I am a writer. This is not negotiable.

I read a lot. Books and blogs primarily. I have an excellent attention span but little patience for bad writing or information that doesn't add to my life. As you can see from my blog roll, I focus on writing blogs. There are some amazing blogs out there, offering sound advice, voices of experience, and challenges to readers. And, of course, some blogs offer nothing more than what Steve Martin calls "Pure Drivel".

Charlotte Rains Dixon over at Word Strumpet is one of the amazing bloggers who nourishes my writing appetite. Several days ago, she asked her readers, "What are your writing non-negotiables?" Normally I respond right away but something about that question caused me to pause, reflect on my beliefs - not just as a writer but as a person - and inventory my negotiating skills.

Let me stop for a second to confess that I am not good at confrontation. Scares me to death. I have a visceral reaction to it. Red face, increased heart rate, cotton mouth, itchy palms. However, when it comes to writing, I am the Karate Kid in crane stance, facing Johnny Lawrence of The Cobras, saying, "Bring it."

C'mon, Johnny. These legs pack heat.

I haven't always been this tough about my writing. For years, I cowered under the blanket of bullying, believing my "little hobby" was a waste of time. But after 39 years of living, I'm done with submitting to the voices of ignorance, jealousy, and control. It's personal. And I'm willing to take names.

So, Charlotte, what are my writing non-negotiables? 

1. I don't negotiate with terrorists (those critics - inner and otherwise - who aim to terrorize me into an inert, catatonic, non-productive state).

2. Write when I can, because I can.

3. Remember that what works for others may not (and probably won't) work for me.

4. Write until the end...of the sentence, paragraph, page, idea.

5. Write for me. Audience is important, too, but I write to breathe and fly in the blue skies of freedom.

 

Whew. I did it. 

39 IS just a number. Right?

Last week I celebrated my birthday. Not quite a milestone, but the big four-oh is rapidly approaching. Birthdays tend to put me in a contemplative, reflective trance. Time's sweet, scary passage bodes its relevance through birthdays rather than a New Year. Resolutions weaken my resolve. But as I celebrate my birth, I think about my life - what I've done, where I've been, and where I'm going.

Flowers from my dear friend

I sat down with a few dear friends this past weekend, discussing everything from Facebook and perceptions to writing and the beauty of grey.  Our conversations stimulate hours of contemplation, and often prompt an afternoon nap (due to deep conversation overload!). However, this particular day prompted a to-do list. Not the kind of list that sits on a counter collecting dust but the kind that simmers on the heart and mind for years.

My pre-40 list (of the non-bucket variety):

1. Feel better physically and mentally
2. Get to Plot Point 2 in my novel
3. Attend a writing retreat
4. Strengthen my relationship with God
5. Write daily (blogging, WIP, journaling)
6. De-clutter my life and mind (prune away the people and things keeping me from being true to myself and God's call for me)

I can do this. Forty isn't that scary...

Memorial Day, Freedom, and Writing

I know, I know, I'm late, but I have an excuse. Honest. It's a good one, too.

I saw Rascal Flatts in concert Monday night. I know, I know. You=jealous! Can I just say that Gary LaVox is one of the most talented singers on the planet? The man doesn't need instruments to sound better. His voice is the instrument and it is fine-tuned.

The man can SING

The concert served as the finale in the Folds of Honor Foundation's Memorial Day celebration. Not only did I take part in honoring our troops and fallen heroes, but I cried and goosebumped my way through Rascal Flatts performing the National Anthem a capella.You know you wanna watch it...here... Of course, it's not quite the same as seeing it in person.

Maj. Dan Rooney, who founded Folds of Honor in 2007, said that Memorial Day is the most important holiday, because without it, we wouldn't be celebrating any others. So true. His words have scrolled like a news ticker across my mind, reminding me what it means to be American and free. Do I truly value freedom, or have I become complacent? Can I really understand how lucky I am to live here, how truffle-sweet my life is? I went to bed with a full tummy (after an evening at Stonewood with friends where we celebrated my birthday with talking, writing, coffee, and cheesecake!), crawled into clean sheets next to a hubby who sleeps with the assistance of a Bi-Pap machine, had a book on my lap, a cat at my feet (and two on the floor), and a bottle of water next to my reading lamp. My biggest worries: upcoming bills, taxes, and the rumbling thunder outside. Every day I rise and fall in peace.

Last night as I sat next to and across from my friends, I realized how I experience the feeling of freedom when I write. It's a feeling I love and never want to lose.

This old dog has learned new tricks

I went to my favorite coffee bar last night with some friends. Good conversation. Good coffee. Writing (I won't qualify my writing as good because it was "writing with velocity", as Charlotte Rains Dixon calls it). But I got words on the page. And that, my friends, IS good!

Bottomless cuppa joe, great pens, a corner booth, mood lighting. Yes. You=jealous.

I used to write scenes, mostly random, never knowing where to put them or how they would fit together. But now I have a plan, or structure. Ever read "Story Engineering" by Larry Brooks? Well stop everything and go read it. Now. That's good stuff, peeps.

I owe it all to my good friend over at Ars Longa, Vita Brevis, for holding up a mirror and that book. She woke me from my self-induced slumber of ignorance. If you haven't read her latest post "On Magpies and Art", then I HIGHLY recommend you mosey over there and prepare for brilliance.

For the first time in a long time, I am excited about writing. I feel like I had a puzzle in front of me but all the pieces were upside down, and pieces from several different puzzles littered the mix, making the task of putting it together seemingly impossible. The light is on now. The puzzle pieces are right side up. And I've got my Mod Podge on standby.

I can always count on Buddy to keep me in line.

It's too much to hope for a weekend of writing, so for now, I pine for a few hours of writing bliss. Perhaps tomorrow...

Weird Fortunes

I love Chinese food. Not too keen on fortune cookies (I prefer REAL dessert), but I do love the little gem of goodness inside. Sometimes I get poignant, thought-provoking nuggets. Sometimes I get Jack Handy-esque sayings. And sometimes...I get just plain weird ones.

Ahh...yes...

 

This one threw me. Well, the comma threw me. Had the comma been remanded to its proper place in Separation Street, the fortune would have made perfect sense...AND been true!! Heh. But that comma...

Yesterday, after lunch, I unwrapped my fortune, broke open the crumbly cookie and revealed...

Ok...I get the whole deceptive appearance thing. But that second bit... "Endurance makes gold." Hmm...what does that mean?

I asked around - my smartest friends had NO idea. I even tried rubbing Squeaky's belly.

Master Squeaks

Four years ago someone posted a question on Yahoo! Answers and this was the response:
It could mean "You'll never know until you get to the bottom of the matter" for "Appearance can be deceiving" and "Remember endurance makes gold" could refer to the struggling of an athlete to get a medal like in the Olympic Games.

Interesting. But still not buying it.

The way I figure it is this: Either there's a leprechaun named "Endurance" who has a gold-making factory, OR, if we have patience and endure the trials we face in this life, God will reward us with riches greater than gold...not HERE, not with the meaningless baubles we collect and wear, but with the eternal gold of Heaven.

Your thoughts?

Do you have an odd fortune you'd like Squeaks and I to analyze?

Absence

So. Yeah. It's me... I didn't fall off a cliff, join a cult, enter the witness protection program, or spend time behind bars. Squeaks didn't hold me hostage in my own house, and I haven't lost my passion for writing (if anything my passion has increased...more on that later!). Nope. I didn't even run off with Jason Statham OR join the circus. Of all the aforementioned things, the circus is the least plausible. Me. No. Likey. Clowns. I think I am allergic to their brand of happy.

I won't bore you with a sequential list of "here's what I've been doing" or even offer excuses for my absence. I will, however, offer some morsels of goodness that I have discovered this past year...

1. My mom is a fighter. She kicked cancer out of the playground. This strong, resilient woman is new...and I like her.

2. Life is too short to read bad books. I used to give a book 50 pages. Now, if it doesn't hook me by the first chapter, I am done. By "hook", I don't mean the books has to jar me with a thrilling plot. I want to care about the story and the protagonist.And I certainly don't want to read sloppy writing.

3. It's OK to admit you don't like a person...and even to their face. I am trying on this new outfit called truth. For too long I've lived under the stifling assumption that I can't be honest with my feelings. Let me tell you, truth is freeing. I participated in an activity for too long, simply because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Meanwhile, I was sick inside. I listened to a sermon on facing your giants and realized, this person was a giant in my life and it was time to move forward and move on. So I did. Confrontation is NOT easy for me, but I did it. And survived. I sloshed around in the muck of self-doubt and self-pity for awhile, but God pulled me through, and I am stronger now. What or who are your giants?

http://thechurch.at/teachings/giants/

4. Reading the Bible in chronological order pretty much rocks my socks. And some of my husband's comments as we read together give me the biggest laugh I've had in weeks. (Perhaps I will share some of our discussions...)

5. I love spending time with people who encourage me in my passions, who push me to search for truth in my life, who will share a cup of coffee and a laugh, who give me free reign over organizing their life's work, who feed me simple solutions to my writing dilemmas, and who won't let me pull away when that's all I want to do.

6. I love Stonewood Coffee and Cafe. I am a regular. I love meeting my writing friends there to chat, eat, sip coffee, write, and eavesdrop. Don't judge...you know you've done it, too.

Tuna salad sammie yumminess...

7. My cats Gizmo and Snickers are getting old. Fifteen, in fact. I cried when I lost my goldfish that I'd had for ten minutes. I'm pretty sure it was an accidental murder. I don't know what I will do when the time comes to make THE decision for Giz and Snicks. Squeaks has kept them young these past few years. She has brought joy into our home. Is it weird for a cat to do that? Look at that belly...

Did someone say "tuna"?

8. I am a writer. There...I said it. It's in my bones, veins, cells, hair follicles... A dear friend of mine, who you can visit here, gave me the BEST writing advice EVER. Now I am not writhing under the assumption that there is a magic pill somewhere that nobody will sell to me. There's actually a plan. A simple one. And if I follow it, then those four books I have swimming in my head can reach fruition.

9. I've edited papers, stories, articles, other people's writing, and now...I've edited my life. And it was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. I don't recommend you do this on your own... In fact it's nearly impossible to do on your own. Grab a friend, spouse, sibling, and read Dan Allender's To Be Told. But DON'T, I repeat, DON'T expect to go through the process unchanged. Awesome book. About killed me...but it was awesome. 

That's it for now... Off to writing and working...

A bit of Independence...

Yesterday was emotional for me. I kept thinking about the idea of independence and what it means to be free. It's a glorious, miraculous, beautiful, scary thing to be free. But I am not. Not truly. Not anymore.

Some of my fondest memories are of driving home from college for long weekends and holidays. That six-hour road trip meant hours of quiet reflection peppered with my favorite music and stops along I-35. A girl and her car. Nothing better.

Even now, after 14 years of marriage, my hubby wubs knows I need the freedom to hop in the car, go to a bookstore, a friend's house, a coffee bar, or even - up until recently - out of town.

The 30-minute trek to work every day is not easy. I am acutely aware of each mile that separates me from safety. With Meniere's Disease, driving can be scary. Attacks sometimes come suddenly. A once-clear road appears blurry and the traffic melds into a kaleidoscopic crayon soup on blacktop.

Thank God, my attacks have come in "convenient" locations: work, home, a friend's house, in public but surrounded by friends. I haven't experienced an attack while driving. Yet.

That "yet" shackles me to fear, keeps me from true freedom. No key exists to release me.

A couple of weeks ago my mom was experiencing stomach pain - bad enough she had my dad take her to the ER. She's a tough, strong woman, so I knew the pain was excruciating. Doctors ran tests and found tumors on her ovaries. They loaded her with hydrocodone, sent her home, and scheduled her for a hysterctomy. Like most of the women in my family, she is allergic to hydrocodone. After dry-heaving for several hours (and exacerbating the pain), mom had dad take her back to the ER. The hospital admitted her and rehydrated her, then took her into surgery. When the docs opened her, they found cancer on her ovaries. Two of the tumors had burst spraying cancer into her abdomen. After tests, the oncologist said it is stage three ovarian cancer.

She sees her doctor today for the four-week post-surgery check-up. Tomorrow she gets her portacath. Monday she starts chemo.

I want to be there. Would give anything to be there. But I can't go. It's a 4 1/2 hour drive and one I can't make alone.

Independence: America = 1; Me = 0.

Meniere's Monday - A bit of blah

Today is definitely not a good ear day for me. Buzzing, fullness, pressure, eyes burning, headache, distortion, and...wait for it...dizziness. Woo-hoo.

Yeah - it feels like this...

I am praying that all of these symptoms are a result of being gone for the weekend (in a higher altitude) and not a precursor to an attack. I don't have time for an attack. Nor the patience.

So this is it. Short. Simple. Not sweet.

Until tomorrow...

The Thursday Three - A culinary treat

This has been a strange week. If I were Bill or Ted in an excellent adventure, I might even say that, "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K." Is it sad that I enjoyed that movie? I digress...

The dark clouds brewing in the Tulsa sky cast a pallor of portent on the day. Since I am traveling to Arkansas with my bestie tomorrow to visit my parental units,  I am praying for clear skies. Even though we need the rain. I simply want it to wait until I'm done driving. Just sayin'.

I have learned crazy things this week by listening, watching, reading, and praying. Sometimes by osmosis. But only when I'm in an alternate universe where things like that are the norm. Heh.

This week, some interesting culinary tidbits for you. My hubby-wubs was a chef at one point in his career, and I have learned a lot from him about cooking. Not that I do much. I'm a simple gal. A Pop-Tart and a glass of milk and I am good to go. But he uses every pot and pan in the house. Cooking is a production. So I watch. Mostly.

I read this week that beetles taste like apples - I'm not sure if they are more like a Granny Smith or a Red Delicious. I prefer a nice Gala.

This? Or...

This??

Also, wasps - stinger and all - taste like pine nuts. I'm thinking I could save money on my pesto recipe since I have a wasp metropolis in my backyard. Might have a bit of a bite to it, though. Sorry. Had to do it.

Will Augment Special Pesto (W.A.S.P.)

Finally, worms offer the essence of fried bacon. Mmm... Scrambled eggs and worms. Gulp. These are the only kind of worms I'm willing to consider...

I offered to make a nice beetle, wasp, worm salad last night but hubby-wubs declined. What's that about?

Next time you are running low on grub, head out to the garden and rustle up some critters. Then let me know if you liked it.

Space - The New "Writing" Frontier

I read a great blog post today on The Writerly Life called Finding Your Writer's Space. Check it out. Go on...

Blair's post made me think about several things:

The space I devote to writing
The time I devote to writing
The distractions that keep me from writing

I visited a new church this past Sunday (shhhh...don't tell Alex!) and the pastor discussed 1 Corinthians 7:25-39. Something Paul said really hit home...and has been haunting me ever since Pastor Mark said it out loud: "I want you to do whatever will help you serve the Lord best, with as few distractions as possible." 1 Corinthians 7:35 NLT

As few distractions as possible? Did Paul have any idea what it would be like to live in a world of cell phones, TV, the Internet, blogging, Facebook, 60-hour work weeks, traffic, etc... Everything is a distraction to me these days. My laundry. Dishes in the sink. A new book. An old friend. Squeaks.

After the sermon, I was in a daze. Have been since then. What are my distractions? Are they keeping me from serving the Lord to the best of my ability? Try answering those for yourself. Not easy.

Most of you know I have been working on a Young Adult novel. The tides have changed and now I have to write it. God is urging me to share my main character's story. So writing her story is a way for me to serve. But that means I actually have to sit down. Write. Not fuss. Not dilly dally.

My writing space at home is a combination home office and library. It is not ideal. PLUS, I have another furry distraction.

Wish I could be that happy about MY belly...

But I'm done making excuses. It's time to write. I'm not going to think about the mess in the closet or the pile of laundry. Those things can wait.

If I had magic lamp with a genie, this would be the best writing space on the planet - It's Laurie Halse Anderson's Writing Cottage. Me = jealous.

So...ask yourself:
What are my distractions?
What is my ideal writing space?
What am I going to do to eliminate the distractions and write?

Meniere's Monday - A bit of history

It's Monday. Yes - the dreaded beginning of the work week. No fear, gang. We can get through this.

Since I have chosen to use Monday as the day to update my Meniere's condition, I thought this might be a good time to let you know a bit about the hard-to-explain, difficult-to-diagnose, ridiculous-to-treat, all-consuming, unpredicatable disease named after a French doctor, Prosper Meniere. In the late 1800s he concluded that vertigo stems from issues in the inner ear. Essentially, the inner ear produces excessive amounts of fluid, causing a host of annoying symptoms. Since Dr. Meniere's initial discovery, doctors, scientists, researchers, and pharmaceutical companies have tried - without success - to treat this disease.

One of the biggest issues with treating Meniere's is that it affects each individual differently. Some people experience mild symptoms while others suffer daily and have to relinquish anything resembling a normal lifestyle - including driving. Imagine a dizzy person on the road... Not pretty.

What are the symptoms, you ask? (I'm assuming, of course, that you asked...)
1. Dizziness: This happens if I stand too quickly, turn my head in a certain way, see flashing lights or flickers, get too hot, am in a crowded space, ride as a passenger, fly in an airplane (as opposed to using my own wings), am in high altitudes, exercise vigorously, have a cold, or sit/stand too high.
2. Ringing in the ears: Mine is intermittent and ranges from a high-pitched squeal to a guttural train sound. I get this more frequently at night or when my ears are full.
3. Hearing loss: This fluctuates and is annoying. Some days, I can hear just fine. Other days are dreadful and I can't hear a thing. Then there are the days when things are too loud. I carry ear plugs, have a hard time listening to music in the car, can't sit in noisy restaurants, and have issues with loud voices. BUT - I use the closed captioning on my TV and prefer texting to talking on the phone because I can't understand the words.
     a. Distortion: This is a byproduct of the hearing loss. To me it sounds like everything comes through a busted speaker. Think Charlie Brown's teacher buzzing in your ear.

     b. Autophony: Another byproduct. This one is loads of fun. It's when the sound of my own voice bothers me. OR - even better - when I can hear my heart beat or my breathing sounds extremely loud. This symptom alone has kept me from singing - something I have been doing since childhood.
4. Fullness and pressure in the ears: This is constant for me. I always feel like I need to pop my ears but can't. This, too, adds to the hearing loss. If I switch sides when sleeping, I can actually hear the fluid dripping from one ear to the other.
5. Migraines: Yep. You guessed it. Headaches are dessert. I get them. Not often. But when I do, I need to sleep.

Two years ago, an audiologist diagnosed me with severe Meniere's in BOTH ears. I am taking this thing one day at a time. My prayer is that I can share my experiences so that others with this disease know they are not alone, and those who know someone with the disease will begin to understand what it's like.

The Thursday Three

So it's a little late in the day to post my Thursday Three, but I'm a working woman. And I'm doing a Beth Moore Bible study with my friend. God, friends, and work. THEN blog.

This has been a fruitful week for me on the learning front. Interesting things percolate and simmer in the knowledge-sphere, enticing me, tantalizing me, zombifying me. My friend Flea did something very evil. "Really evil. Like so evil, that you would say it was E-VEEL, like it's the FRU-ETS of the DEV-EEL. E-VEEL." She told me to Stumble. It's bad enough that I have Meniere's Disease and stumble involuntarily, but NOW she expects me to Stumble voluntarily.

Consider this a warning. Creating a StumpleUpon account will evaporate hours in your day like an afternoon sprinkler on a Tulsa summer lawn. I arm myself with a mantra: "Six Stumbles. That's it." Two hours later, the mantra cackles at my lack of willpower.

In honor of the Thursday Three, here are three things I learned this week while stumbling:

1. While sitting in my inglenook, praying for petrichor, I listened to the susurrous purr of Squeaks and the ceiling fan. Squeaks is my talisman. Some would say I am just an ailurophile - a crazy one at that - but I know she has brought me luck.

Like my purty words? Visit this site to learn the "100 Most Beautiful Words in the English Language".

2. I stumbled onto another fantastic site. Especially for bibliophiles. It's called GoodReads. Visit it soon. One of my favorite features is the ability to search for author quotes. I stumbled upon a page of C.S. Lewis quotes.

Here's the quote: "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else." Think about that. Let it sink in. Now breathe.

3. I love popcorn. It's a weakness. Microwave popcorn = BAD. Popcorn on the stove in my grandma's Magnalite pan with REAL butter, sea salt, and lots of napkins = GOOD. Dang. Now I want some. Where was I? Oh yes. Popcorn. Interesting fact: Pilgrims ate popcorn at the first Thanksgiving dinner. 


Hmm... Perhaps...

Forget the turkey! Let's have some popcorn.

Mmmm. Popcorn. And Stumbling.

Of Thievery and Memes

I stole this meme from my good friend Flea. She, of course, stole it from someone else who I am sure stole it, too.

We are all just a bunch of thieves - the crazy Band of Bloggers. Steal away. You know you wanna!

With this Meme I will ask you 5 question which could be book related or not so we can get to know each other better! The only rule is you can't use the same answer twice!

1. What new book coming out soon do you plan to buy?
2. What upcoming book are you dying to read?
3. What series is a must read for you?
4. What new author have you found so far in 2011?
5. What little known author are you a fan of?

My answers (via Squeaks, of course!):

1 and 2. I have a slight problem. Books for me are like potato chips for most people. I can't buy just one. 

For SURE I want Steven James' The Queen (pre-sale right now). It's the 4th book in the Patrick Bowers series and I am hooked. I am always anxiously awaiting Lee Child's newest Jack Reacher book, The Affair (also on pre-order). Finally, I will be running to buy Flesh and Bones, the newest Temperance Brennan book in the Kathy Reichs series. Patience isn't my best virtue either, so pray I make it until August and September...

3. Yikes. Seriously!? Jonathan Kellerman's Alex Delaware series, see all three in #1 and 2, John Sandford's Lucas Davenport series, that snarky P.I. Isabel Spellman of Lisa Lutz's Spellman series, and I really enjoy Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar series. 

4. I have discovered some phenomenal writers in 2011. I loved Nancy Rue's The Reluctant Prophet and can't wait to read the next book in the series. I had the opportunity to meet her and learn from her at the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writer's Conference. She is an amazing person and fantastic writer. My good friend Flea also introduced me to some Christian writers: Dee Henderson, Kristen Heitzmann, and Liz Curtis Higgs. 

5. Little known author? Hmm...Gabriela Mistral. She was a Chilean poet. Diane Wakoski. Phenomenal poet. I also love Chitra Divakaruni. She entices you with her words. Her novels AND poems are excellent. 

Your turn. Steal from me. Put it on your blog or just share the questions with friends. You never know what you will learn.

Meniere's Monday

It's Monday and that means it's time for an update on the Meniere's Disease.

Last week proved to be a "good" week. I use the word "good" loosely as my barometer of good has changed since getting the "Severe Meniere's Disease in BOTH Ears" diagnosis two years ago. Good for me means pressure in the ears, issues with hearing - either I can't hear or things are too loud, and no dizzy spells.

I woke up last Thursday with my right ear completely closed. I tapped the side of my face and couldn't even feel my finger. It was an odd sensation. Not quite numbness. A little like being swollen. Friday - after sleeping all night on my left side - the fluid switched to my left ear. Hey - I'm all about balance. No double standards for these ears.

I have a new tool in my Meniere's-fighting arsenal.

Definitely NOT high fashion but VERY useful in fighting nausea!

I feel a bit like Wonder Woman when I wear them. Only not as cool. Or awesome. But the Sea Bands work. They are cheap, come in a variety of colors (even fun ones for kids), and aid in the suppression of nausea. Initially, I assume they were intended for travelers. Now, however, pregnant women wear them to prevent morning sickness, and cancer patients use them for all the dreadful nausea associated with chemo. Crazy, huh?

They are simple to use, come with a nifty carrying case, and are washable. I highly recommend these for anyone experiencing nausea from any affliction. Now...if I could just find some cool gold cuffs to stop the dizziness (and bullets...mwahahaha), then I could be the Meniere's Maven. Yes. I like the sound of that.

You inventors out there get crackin'.

Until we meet again. Or I write again. Whichever comes first.

Pretend Post, the third

Here's my post. It's all pretty like.

Squeaks on my pillow

Meniere's is not my friend

I haven't posted in a long time. Mainly I have been wallowing in self pity. Try it sometime. It won't get you anywhere, but, hey, everyone needs to wallow. I actually like that word. Wallow. It sounds like something birds say when they are congregating in a park. Wallowallowallowallow. C'mon. You know you want to say it.

Anyhoo...Meniere's disease is changing my life. Not because I am allowing it to. It just is. It's unavoidable. In the past 30 years, scientists have not advanced the treatment at all. Nobody knows what causes it. Each person reacts differently. Some people have it severely or mildly. Some people experience it in one ear. Some in both. Some people stay dizzy, throw up, lose their hearing, and suffer from depression. Some experience mildly annoying symptoms. Predictions are impossible.

My doctor - the third one I consulted - told me that patients who have an attack or episode experience the same level of depression as terminal cancer patients with less than one month to live. Fabulous.

I am in a funk. Every day I discover things Meniere's is taking from me. I don't want to be this person, though, who wallows in self-pity. I don't want to let the disease change who I am. I just don't know what to do.

For now, I will wallow. With a Klondike bar and a bowl of popcorn. And Squeaks in my lap.

My friend Flea's writing contest

My good friend Flea started this wonderful writing contest. She plans to continue it once a month. It started from a great idea I read here. Basically, go to your favorite thrift store, find the cheesiest, tackiest knick-knack and write its story. Write about the history of the thing or write from its perspective or write about its owner and why he/she purchased it. Use the object as a symbol in a WIP (work in progress). You are only bound by your own limitations.

The first object Flea used for her first contest was a ceramic dog statue. I decided to write something for the contest...it gave me a break from working on my novel and grad school and paying bills. Please visit her site and vote for FLEA'S story...NOT mine. Only four people have voted. The voting tab is in the top right corner of her blog. Then join in the fun next month. I plan to write a story for each object. I figure if I have twelve stories, that's better than nothing.

So visit The Good Flea, read through her wonderful posts, and vote...for HER story.

To Learn is to Live

1. Making eggrolls is relatively easy. I cooked some ground chicken with a bag of cole slaw. I seasoned it with soy sauce, pepper, and garlic. I set that off to the side and then laid the eggroll wrappers on a cutting board. I loaded the wrappers with a spoonful of the chicken and cabbage mixture, and then rolled them according to the diagram on the packaging. Alan got the canola oil to about 350 to 375 then dropped in the eggrolls until they were a beautiful golden brown. Alan made an AMAZING dipping sauce with pineapple and soy sauce that pretty much rocked my socks. Life was good last night in the Jenkins household.

2. The United States produces more tobacco than it does wheat. I don't even know what to say about this other than grrrr....

Sure it's a pretty plant, but once it's dried and mixed with nasty carcinogens, it does ugly things to lungs and the atmosphere...not to mention clothing, skin, and hair. Just sayin'.

3. Each year, approximately 250,000 American husbands are physically attacked and beaten by their wives. I wonder if these attacks happen after the husband answers the question, "Does this outfit make me look fat?"

Learning a la mode

Since I have spent the past couple of days in a classroom filled with graduate students and PhDs, I have encountered just a few pieces of new information. A lot of it is quite, um, boring and nothing I would reiterate in this forum. I would like for my readers to return. I will narrow down my focus to a few interesting facts.

1. I found an interesting quote today by Ernest Hemingway. He said, "Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know." It made me think of Ecclesiastes 1:18: "He who increases knowledge increases sorrow." The more we know, the harder it is to for us to be happy with the state of things... Maybe that's why there are so many ignorant people in the world; they are afraid to learn because it might make them think and thinking might make them sad.

2. I love milk. Mostly with cereal, but I also love a glass with a freshly-baked chocolate chip pecan cookie (or three...). I had no idea that if you were to pop in Mozart's Greatest Hits or even "Mmm Bop" while milking a cow, it would give more milk. It's true.

3. When I was in high school, I wore a lot of black. Ok...I still wear a lot of black. What? It's slimming. I am also short. The combination of my clothes and height landed me the nickname "Penguin". I didn't mind because I like the tux-wearing, life-mate loving creatures. I love to watch them, too. One thing I didn't know until today is that penguins can jump as high as 6 feet in the air. Who knew? (Apparently the elephant is the only animal that can't jump.)

Lessons learned

Today has been a LONG day. I was up at 7:30 for an Ink Slingers meeting. After the meeting, I ran home, packed, cleaned the bedroom, picked up a prescription, and drove four hours to Denton, TX. I have to meet for three days for one of my grad school classes. I am exhausted and have to be up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow morning (this morning) for my first class.

Here's what I learned today:

1. Comfort Inn and Comfort Suites are not the same thing, but the information operator can't differentiate. Imagine my surprise when I called the operator, she connected me to my hotel, I got directions, parked, grabbed a couple of bags, waited for ten minutes in the lobby with three screaming kids running rampant (not my kids...), handed the receptionist my rewards card, and then she handed it back to me (shaking her head) and told me I did not have a reservation. She told me I was staying at the Comfort Suites. When I asked where it was she said, "You will have to call them and ask them as I am very busy." There was nobody else behind me in line. Thirty minutes later I found my hotel. Grr...

2. Even though a hotel claims it is "non-smoking", if some of the rooms have been smoked in within the last 20 years, then they still reek. My room smells like the bottom of an ashtray. But it's non-smoking, so I guess that makes it all better.

3. Hotel rooms are either bordering on Arctic temperatures or are reminiscent of the fiery pits of Dante's Inferno. There is no in-between, Spring-like temperature. It's winter in Russia in my room right now. I prefer that to a summer in Phoenix. Just sayin'.