Some people are born with the keys to the kingdom.  Their lives are replete with wheels and cogs that move with laser-like precision.  They’re always in the right place at the right time, and seem to blow up for little more than the uncomplicated act of being. This isn’t to diminish their work or effort, because quite often, these people are loaded with drive, talent or an unstoppable combination of both.  I marvel at them.

I know nothing about that life.  While in the midst of a conversation with a dear friend, she shared with me that such a life is foreign to her as well.  Just as there are those who seem to be charmed.  There are others who exist in a world where they perpetually grind it out, dragon chasing as it were.  This is the life that I know, as does my friend.  I’d be dishonest if I were to say there weren’t some breaks along the way, but they often come with a weighty back story.  It’s not that they aren’t appreciated, because they are.  I give thanks for my blessings every day.  But the accompanying struggle can still wear at the spirit.

It is said that when your will is at its weakest, and you feel that you can’t go another step, your breakthrough is right around the corner.  I’ve lived that.  I know what it’s like to put my kids to bed, lock the bathroom door and cry because I don’t know what the next move might be, only to receive the thing that I need to push me a little further.  Sometimes the “thing” is tangible, other times spiritual or existential; it’s always welcome.  For years I’ve been fueled by the adrenaline of promise.  The high of what will be is what launches a thousand beautiful beginnings: spiritual, secular, and yes romantic.

As my friend so eloquently put it, “I’m just tired of being on the edge of good things.” I see a soul just as weary as I, a true kindred spirit.  She speaks of cracking under the weight of the struggle, yet I see her as being stronger than she even imagines.  I see a person who, despite whatever may be going on around her, pulls determination out of her butt and creates magic.  But everybody has their point where they need an extra push, and that is today’s reality.  The struggle makes for good stories, but there is an urgent need for results.

Every morning, I quote my favorite line from the Chili Peppers’ “Scar Tissue,”  “I’ll make it to the moon if I have to crawl.”  It reminds me that I’m not there yet, and speaks solely to my determination to get there.  I wear my battle scars like badges, and I don’t mind putting in the grunt work.  I’m not an ingrate.  I simply want my patch of earth and sky to make my mark.  There’s a hunger that promise can’t satiate.  After looming over the chasm of the almost and the unknown, I crave my destiny.  I’m jumping.

God, I’ve built my wings.  Please bless me with the wind to soar.



Postcards from the Amethyst Rockstar

Yeah, I’m digging the name.  is it disturbing that I’m completely comfortable with this multiple personality thing I’ve got going on?  Eh well.

Anywhoo, Buenos Sabado lambs!!!  Guess what?  it’s November 1.  You know what that means?  You are now at the beginning of the most kick ass month EVER – the month of my birth!  I’m 21 days from the b-day throwdown, and 23 days from turning flirty-two.  I can’t tell you how smokin I look in my outfit for my party.  Truth be told, I would give MYSELF some.

So, today marks the beginning of the highly anticipated NaNoWriMo, and I will be participating this year. To stay on target, I must write 1,666 words per day (to attain 50,000 by November 30). I have written, uh, zero. Fear not loves, tonight, I’m not going to bed until I write 2,000. That’s right. I’m an overacheiver when I want to be.  For those of you not interested in novel writing, today also marks the start ofNaBloPoMo. I’m attempting to participate in both, using the blog as a warm up exercise, however, if you see chunks of time where I have not posted, I’m probably getting my novel on. Or out somewhere breaking hearts. ;-P

just b

No rest for the weary

One would think that they way I wear myself out during the week, I wouldn’t have midnight blogging sessions, and yet, I do.  Last night when i went to bed, I purposely did not knock out until I was on the verge of a coma.  The kids and I had a “camp-in” where we pretty much ate and joked and watched wrestling until we passed out.  After my blogging session, I noticed Finge was tossing and turning a lot.  I thought maybe he was awake, and so I asked him what he was doing.  “I’m saving you mama.”  My kid dreams about being a hero, lol.  That’s pretty cool.

It’s so gorgeous outside today, I’m going to rush through my errands and then bring them to the park.  They can run themselves crazy while I write.  I desperately need a laptop so that I can write anywhere.  Yes, i plan to be one of those people that set up camp in various public places as they work on their “next big thing.”  Until then, I’ll have to get a couple of good writing tablets.  For those who are interested, Borders has notebooks of the sort for fairly low price.  Purple ones.  (Author’s Note: Purple anything is always a way to get on my good side.  Also note that I have a b-day coming up in a month, so…yeah.)

My writing has been SO much more intense these days.  Even if the story that I wrote doesn’t win the grand prize, it is definitely among my best.  So, if you ever read something about an author to watch…yeah…that’s me.

Off to Target lambs.

just b


I didn’t get to bed until after midnight.  I was up at 6.  I was here around 8ish.  I did not take a lunch break.  I peed for the first time at 3:48.  I had one cup of disgusting coffee, and I was tempted to throw it on someone.  Sadly, no one in particular.  This week has been hellacious.