Books, Blog, Buddies

Books, Blog, Buddies
We have a ton of fun around here
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Saturday, October 06, 2012

Fandoms and Pictures



"My fandom has canon bondage role-play."
I found this on tumblr-- posted by fangirlasplosian 
I follow a few people who post pictures with witty comments about some of my favorite television shows. I was pretty young when The Man from U.N.C.L.E. first aired. Still, syndication and reruns perform a service for those of us that took advantage of them. I certainly did. This particular television show had it all. Even a tomboy could ogle these guys and pretend. They're hot (or they were--and probably still are) and the show itself offered a wealth of fodder for an active imagination like mine. 
And look there! It still does * g*  
I enjoy tumbler, not so much because of the cool pictures (which I can't see), but because of the wit and perspective of the people who post things. Sometimes, I surf and find these things on my own. Other times, friends will tell me to go look knowing what sort of things amuse me, or interest me in general. 



Monday, October 01, 2012

So, today, I...


www.stockfreeimages.com


www.stockfreeimages.com
Got some brie and Waffa crackers? How about Triscuits and cheddar? Never mind, Ritz and Cheeze Whiz will do--because I have plenty of whine and I'm about to share it with you. You'll need sustenance. 

First, and I know, this  bit is my own fault, I just couldn't stop researching to go to sleep this morning. After I read some cool freebies by Alyssa Brio, and some crappy freebies by...let's call this author Anonymous, and ultimately got a three second call from my British actor friend --Yahoo is beginning to seriously annoy me--I tried to sleep. (Who DID catch up with me later, as you'll see) 

I was in and out when my sister went off to work. Shortly after that, though, someone else tried to go to work and failed...their car complained strenuously. 

A little later, the big bird--my daughter's bird (I love the guy, and I call him mine when he acts like he loves me back)--well, he likes a little song and dance in the morning. I get that 9:00 AM is actually late for birds to get up. Still, it's early for me. Regardless, I played a few songs he likes but weren't obnoxious to my half-asleep self. I should tell you now that I'm bad company when I wake up, no matter when that is. Doesn't matter to Banana, though. He wants me front and center until he gets sleepy again. So, no going to the bathroom! Only, that's a must for me first thing. A MUST!

So, Mr. Big Green Bird and I settle our disagreement and move on with our day. All is well...until I decide to take a shower. 

I won't paint you a vivid picture here, but let's just say, things fell apart. I use a wheelchair--no leg strength and perpetual dizziness. That chair--nearly new, top of the line, ultra lightweight--started to fall apart. The brake went sideways...I always have problems with brakes. The side guard seemed to shoot forward when I tried to move from chair to shower bench. And then! And then! The whole thing just shot forward in a tilt. Mind you, I'm transferring to a lightweight, aluminum and plastic (think Rubber-Maid) portable bench. It didn't absorb the sudden shift in weight as easily as you'd think. 

I'm so glad I installed that extra gripper thing on the edge of the shower wall. 

Finally, after my shot--hit a vein, of course, so lots of blood *sigh*--the bathroom follies were over.

What follows here are bits and clips from various conversations that took place through the early hours of the morning until now (names have been changed to protect...somebody):


I.M. --4:00AM
BonitaTx: Oh, girl! I knew it! I knew you'd start dating again!
Me: What? Hi. Dating? Me? What are you talking about?

BonitaTx: Tom! You know--that guy who brings you flowers and all. Tom! I saw it on your blog.
Me: We're neighbors. Buddies. Close friends. And why didn't you comment? Are you allergic?

BonitaTx: Guys don't buy flowers for no reason. You're dating. You bought him that cup. 
Me: We've never gone anywhere together. We've never had a meal together. We're friends. It was his birthday.

BonitaTx: Whatever, girl. You're dating. Accept it.
Me: He's a great guy. Considerate, lives nearby--unlike -- oh good grief. We're not dating. it's none of your business, and get a life.

BonitaTx: You're dating.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phone 9:30ish AM:

"Hello, J.! Sleep well?"
>"You woke me up, Ed."
"We start early around here. So...have you given any thought to that article?"
>"What article? No. No thought."
"Oh, come on! It could do us a lot of good. The business would pick up, who knows what could open up for you?"
>"Ed. I don't teach anymore. I don't want things opening up. I want sleep."
"Don't try to tell me you don't need money. You're home all day. What do you do all day? That writing thing can't pay very much. I don't hear your name on the news."
>"..."
"J.? You there?"
>"You know what, Ed? Never call me again. Write your own article..."
"Look, don't be that way. I'm sorry I demeaned your hobby..."
>"Ed. If you're bleeding, call 911. If you're dying, call your mother. Never, ever call me again." 
"J..." click
I went back to sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------------



I.M. (not that long ago)
Bic: All right, GiGi?
Me: :) Bic! What's going on in the exciting world of stage and screen?

Bic:  Who's this Tom? I thought he was your neighbor?
Me: He IS my neighbor. SO? 

Bic: What's with all the pressies? Flowers?
Me: Good lord. What, you just read my blog, didn't you? From the beginning, I suppose? and no comment? What's with that? 

Bic: I had down time. It's not like I can ring you directly.
Me: You could. As long as you don't wake me up. I'm not human then.

Bic: Like that cockup this morning, I s'pose? What of this boyfriend?
Me: No boyfriend. None. Tom is a dear friend. He's a great guy, and if I did have a boyfriend, I'm sure I couldn't do much better.

Bic: Are you sleeping with him?
Me: ...

Bic: Well?
Me: In light of our years of friendship, I'll answer that nosy, intrusive, none-of-your-business question. No. We are not. 

Bic: What do you mean you couldn't do better than Tom? 
Me: What is WRONG with you, Bic? Are you having some kind of a tantrum? You and I are friends. Longtime friends, yes. Platonic, longtime friends. No mushy stuff, no boy/girl stuff Friends.

Bic: We've talked about sex.
Me: Yes. When you feel like being gay--because your significant other is annoying you somehow. That's it. And frankly, that's plenty.

Bic: No need to get shirty. I'm just pointing out that I'm equally as good a friend as this Tom. And I would make a fine boyfriend, if the circumstances warranted. 
Me: What a baby! Yes, I'm sure you would make a great boyfriend. As for being a better friend, I can't say. Tom visited me in the hospital, brings me plants and flowers, in spite of the fact that i kill them, every time...and I can talk to him pretty much whenever. You, not so much. Besides, this isn't a competition. I've written you into several stories and a few longer books.

Bic: That last one, Metamorphose? I wanted to be Wynn, but you made me Rand. I thought you were going to change that. 
Me: *sigh* You're kidding right? They're both British, you can be whichever one you wanted. If it makes you feel better, I've never written Tom into a book.

Bic: It does. Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have a headache. I'm going to go write for awhile. And that's it for now.  


J.J. Massa
Stay current & join my Coffee Time Newsletter
Sign up at www.jjmassa.com.
Right in the middle of the page--can't miss it!

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Review Policy



My Review Policy.

This was recently posted by a reviewer whose blog I follow. She doesn't review the sort of books I write, and that's a good thing. I'll never be tempted to ask--she does review books I like, to some extent, and has a lot of cool things to say, just in general. I'm posting her review policy here, because I like it. I'm not sure I'd always LOVE it, but she strives to be fair and is pretty up front about it.


Things Authors Should Know About Bad Reviews 
The True Confessions of a Book Reviewer


Friends of mine have heard me say things like--fair's only fair to the winner, or fair is subjective. It all depends on what your basis for comparison is. So, if you, as a writer, want a review, you have to ask yourself this one question:
My Review Policy

No matter what you think of reviews and reviewers, if you're writing a book, even if it's your tenth book, check out those links. If you're a reader or reviewer, read them and know that most authors, though we don't like getting a bad review, know that not everyone will like what they write.

It's okay to have an opinion or criticism. It's helpful if you use your opinion or criticism constructively.

 That is all.

 J.J.

Friday, August 31, 2012

I think I missed Thursday


Hi!

Every Thursday after this, you will, from now on, find a post from a guest blogger--a starving artist who doesn't write books for a living. Or maybe a not-so-starving artist, as the case may be.

I'm still having the contest for new blog joiners -- it stretches through the end of this month, so anyone who joins or follows one of my blogs is eligible to win a $5 Gift Card--reader's choice. 

This month, there will be two winners. One winner will be someone who was already a member before the first of August, and the second from new joiners. Every week from now on, there will be book giveaways and a Gift Card giveaway at the end of the month.

Okay, that's  the serious info…well, the serious blog news, at least. 

  Well, there is ONE other thing. Jeannie Y. was named  the  J.J. Nagged Me! Winner for this month. For her suffering, she won a PDF of the first book of the  International Worlds Museum Series, Metamorphose.  

Now, enough about all that. I bet you're wondering about the actor that didn't show up today. Okay, the actor whose blog post didn’t show up today. You've got to be asking yourself what happened. Is he okay? Was it some tragic behind-the-scenes issue?

He met up with another of my best friends for drinks. I expect they got smashed. I'm not angry about it, though, I'm pouty. They went to a bar on the beach --in another state, I'll admit that-- but still, I didn’t get to go. They went off and had fun while I tried to fix my deleted email box, scoop the kitty litter, and a plethora of other, not-fun-at-all things.

No, I'm not bitter, why do you ask?

I have a lot to get done and I'm getting nowhere at all, so I plan to install one of those meters (or several) so that you can keep up with how much or how little I've gotten done on various books. Don't worry if it looks like I've got a long way to go. As soon as the guy upstairs turns his music down below 124 dB, I'll be able to hear myself think. You wouldn't think that would be important, but trust me, it is.

The birds, the dog, and the cats would agree with you. Just look what it's doing to the bird!
 
I thought that guy was evicted. Why do the quiet ones always move and the loud people stay until they get dragged off? I'm not actually that loud, it's just too much trouble to move. That's all for today, folks!        

J.J. Massa

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Awkward Much?



I don't know why the universe takes perfectly normal, reasonably well-adjusted people and throws them into horribly awkward situations. Some of those moments aren't always horribly awkward, but uncomfortable nonetheless.

This topic came up recently when a group of us were sitting around just chatting. I, of course, write for a living, so I don't go out all that much--which is not to say that I've never suffered an awkward moment.  I used to be out and about constantly. But we'll get to that.

One of the ladies present--we'll just call her Corin--was talking about her workday. All of her co-workers are men. That comes with its own plethora of uncomfortable moments, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Anyhow, someone had turned the air conditioner up a little too high that day. As an aside, she was quick to say that her bra was one of the thick sort, not padded, just thick. Corin suffered in silence for awhile, but eventually, she couldn't ignore chill.

When her arms broke out in goose bumps, she turned to the two men with her and said, "Is it cold in here to you?"

 Two sets of male eyes immediately jumped to her breasts where, yep, you guessed it, her slightly padded bra betrayed her--her co-workers could see the universal proof.



She might as well have been wearing a wet t-shirt.

 The very next morning, stopped at a local 7-Eleven to pick up a cup of coffee before work. This time, she was wearing her slightly padded bra underneath two hip-length, pullover t-shirts. Nobody was going to read the temperature from her chest this time.

While she was preparing her coffee, an older man walked up to pour one for himself. Out of the blue, he turned to her and said, "Now, there's something you don't see anymore."

Attempting to be polite, Corin asked, "What's that?"

 "Not many young girls have outtie belly-buttons anymore," he told her, then walked away.


She immediately looked down to check out her belly-button. Two shirts should have made her bellybutton impossible to see. It turned out that her belly piercing showed through just enough to masquerade as an outtie. She couldn't decide which was worse--knowing that her piercing stuck out that much, or that someone had stared at her midriff long enough to picture what her bellybutton looked like.


I had a moment earlier that day.  Last week, I'd found my favorite, hard-to-find shampoo and soap, both in my favorite scent. The shampoo wasn't cheap, but things happened just right, so I ordered it online.

The first chance I had, I naturally used the shampoo and soap, happily enjoying the scent after I dressed and my hair was brushed. (I don't usually blow dry my hair--I let it air dry)

When my neighbor called and asked to pop in, I agreed right away. He'd been gone several days and had had a recent death in his family. We've been neighbors for almost seven years, always there when the other one needed a chat or cup of sugar. (That really happens. It's not just a cliché)

As always, he came on in, stopping first to pet my sister's dog and dispense treats. After that, per usual, he made his way over to me for a hug. Folks tease me about him being my boyfriend or him chasing me--I just laugh it off. I'm not looking for that, and presumably, neither is he.

This wasn't on the calendar for today...
The hug, however, went on, and on, and on…well, we hadn't visited in several days, and had been away at a family funeral. So, it follows that he needed a hug, right?

After awhile, I said, "Hey, I bet my hair is still wet."   I was not at my conversational best, needless to say.
He didn't move for another thirty seconds, at least. If you don't think that's a long time, count out loud and imagine there's a bomb somewhere nearby.

When he did pull away, he said, "Damn, your hair smells good." 

That'll teach me, won't it?

I'm sure we know that women aren't the only people who end up in awkward social situations…Poor Jordan. He works at a dojo where various martial arts classes are held every week for children. This week, it was time for the intermediate class (blue or green belt -- in this case 6 and 7 year-olds) to have their summer picnic.

Jordan, being a stellar summer employee was front and center for the picnic. It was held at a local park near a lake. He's a nice guy and patient enough with the kids, many of whom only understand the word "no" because they say it so much. He liked his job, could handle the kids, and it paid all right.

There was another reason he made sure to attend that particular event, though. Apparently, one of the mothers--we'll call her Mrs. Money-- liked to mingle with the other moms unfettered by such nagging responsibilities as watching her children. Not only that, Mrs. Money was usually busy on class days, so she had a sitter for those days. That way, she could do something else while the sitter, Zoë,  looked after her budding Karate star and his toddler sister.

According to Jordan, Zoë is hot, has the patience of a saint, and funny as hell. In short, she was everything a twenty-something woman should be, and he'd been flirting with her non-stop for sixteen weeks, solid. She always smiled at him and spoke to him when she saw him. She had a dry wit that cracked him up; he made sure he was nearby whenever the intermediates were in class.

At the picnic, he spotted her near the lake with another woman and the toddler Zoë chased around while the boy was in class. As he watched, trying to decide on a casual approach, the little girl tugged at the hem of Zoë's shorts and then did her best to peel the young woman's shirt up above her navel. That was all the invitation he needed.

When he was close enough, he said, "Hey, how come she's trying to rip your shirt off?"

Zoë blushed and laughed it off, but he hung around as long as he could, trying to score some points with her. Mrs. Money wandered over, along with another woman. Not one to miss an opportunity, he hung out with the group, teasing and laughing for nearly an hour. By the time he was called away, Jordan was pretty sure he'd made good progress..

 Before he got very far, he heard Mrs. Money say, " Zoë, you know he was flirting with you, right?"

 He stopped, waiting to hear what she'd say. The women were all facing the lake, so they didn't know he was close enough to listen.

 The other mother jumped in and assured Zoë, saying, "Oh, yeah. He was flirting like crazy--not just now, but for months."

 "Really?" Zoë answered. He could picture her face as she said it. The rest of her response really took him by surprise. "Huh…That was flirting? Wow. I had no idea."

 And that was pretty much how the rest of his day went, too.

 So, those are a FEW awkward events. But we know there are countless more, don't we?

Let's make Sunday into AWKWARD MUCH? Day-- Either post it as a comment or send me a note at jjmassa@gmail.com with your awkward moment. I'll put them on next

Sunday's blog. The most awkward moment will win their choice from these Ashlyn Chase erotic, awkward moment stories:        





Giggles by Gabby 
 Heaving Bosoms 
Vampire Vintage  
                                                                                                                                                                                       Next Sunday, we'll do it again with a different erotic, or  romantic awkward-moments prizes. You know that life will always be awkward. Why not win from it--it's a double win if it's someone else's awkward tale you're telling ! *g*

Saturday, August 18, 2012

My bird bit me



You've heard the old idiom: that was the straw that broke the camel's back?

I don't know anything about camels (okay, they spit, have humps, and don't live around here)   What I do know is that my morning has gone badly, people were mean to me...rude, at least, and well, then my bird bit me.

This is the guilty party I mentioned

It was all I could do not to burst into tears.

It hurt, but really, not enough to cry over. Baker is only a year old, and he is normally pretty lovable--with bouts of manic lunging and biting thrown in now and then. Breeders and other bird professionals call it "nipping."

Yeah, right. Chomping would be a better word. That little beak can be painful!  He sometimes does it to protect his territory, and sometimes, it's just general principle. Like I said, he's pretty cuddly otherwise.

he his what he appears to be--a bird with
attitude
I know you've heard (read) me refer to Baker and Banana:

So, naturally, you would assume that Banana was the one who bit my finger. If that were true, I wouldn't be able to type at all. That beak of his is deadly. Luckily, he likes me these days. I play Euro- Rock/Pop for him, the one Brittany Spears song he likes (Oops, I Did It Again), crooners when he's in the mood, and his personal favorite--Harry Belafonte. (you guessed it, he loves the Banana Boat Song, Dayo, best of all)

Hey, he likes to dance. Don't mock him for it. Manly men are secure enough to dance. And bob. Trust me, he gets into it. And let's face it, it's a rare bird indeed who can dance to Calypso music.

Baker, poor soul, his rhythmically challenged. He does this cool thing where he revolves slowly in a half-circle. My daughter calls it his "Around Town" move.

Just so you know, he was sorry for the bite pretty soon after. I covered his cage because I was upset and didn't want to yell at him. He started going "Pssst, pssssst!" a minute after I covered him. He talks, but quietly. He likes to mimic sounds, though. I made the mistake of blowing him a kiss once...you can imagine where that went wrong.

As upset as I was, the very bird that bit me eventually made me feel better. He cracks me up. They both do. And really, it's hard to stay upset when one bird is boogieing along to Belafonte's Jump in the Line and the other one is pecking away (off-beat) on the wing of his little plastic airplane perch?

Anyhow, that was my day, pretty much. I have since written a few thousand words, helped put away groceries, and basically, gotten on with life.

Oh, and I'm a writer, so if you'd consider buying a book of mine at some point, that would be great. *g*

That's it for me. Back to the book!



www.jjmassa.com
join me on Twitter, Facebook, my Blog,or my NCP Space