Moving and Moustaches

As I sit here, I ponder what to blog about this week. I have written little to nothing in about 7 days…my muse is floundering in a wide open sea of procrastination. (Yes, I visit that location frequently. One of the best vacation spots on the planet, except I always end up worse off when I return than when I left…hmmm). So in the past several days I have been…MOVING!

Let me just say, that I think I own the heaviest furniture in the central part of the state. A 1970’s-esck Hide-A-Bed couch (yes, they really named them that in 1974) and a solid cedar chest complete with marble top to name two of the items. So heavy in fact that my best friends’ husband told me that he refuses to move me again, at least for six months. I think that is like child birth, right after the birth a woman says “No More”, but over time, the pain of the memory fades and you look back on the labor with fondness. Yeah? Maybe not.

So I’m moved, unpacked, pictures hung, beds made…all with a three year old. I swear, I am super woman. Or I was this weekend, now I’m just worn out and sick.

I have to give props to my dearest friends and my mom who showed up in full force to help with the transition.

So I have an ‘acquaintance’ whose moustache has become the topic of internet jabs and blogs. Those who know him well are lovingly referring to him as ‘dirt-bag’…LOL…I threw in my two-cents which I will leave out here because this blog really should remain PG. But in the process of making fun of his lip-fro, I did a quick search on Google to find other Famous Moustache wearers. This blog actually made me laugh out loud on TV’s top five famous moustaches. Check it out: http://www.tvsquad.com/2005/11/22/the-five-greatest-tv-moustaches/

The blog got me thinking about ‘alternative’ names for moustaches:
- Soup Strainer
- Lip Bush
- Face Fur
- Chin Strap
- Fu Manchu
- The Neard – The Neck Beard

Oh Lord…and let’s not forget ‘Moustache March’…seriously, someone comes up with these things (and no, it is not me). Check it out to participate: http://www.moustachemarch.com/faq.html. This website even gives directives on when to start preparing for ‘Moustache March’: Most of us try to start growing a full beard in Don't Shave December, then continue with Just Grow it January and Facial Hair February. Then the last day of February our members all over the world gather for shaving parties and trim it down to the Moustache.

Oh my, what will they think of next. I think I’ll go back to writing now…

MY BIRTHDAY

Ok folks, what makes you think phrases like “Wow, you’re thirty!?” and “Well, it’s all downhill from here” actually are appropriate to say on someone’s thirtieth birthday? I mean, the only polite return phrase for those two comments is: “Yeah” as opposed to “F___ Off” or “Thanks, I hope your pecker falls off” (Thanks for that one Carmen).

So I admit, I kicked and screamed all the way to my thirtieth. I really did not want anyone to acknowledge it was my birthday much less how old I was. But alas, who needs enemies with friends like mine…

Last week my girlfriends emailed me “Be ready at noon on Saturday, we’re picking you up.” ...This is the point where I go "Oh Crap..."

Saturday rolls around, my girls load me up in the Jeep. We drive all over freaking Little Rock, the whole time my friends throwing out comments like:

- “I hope you don’t have to go to the bathroom, cause there are no toilets”
- “Is your house clean?”

I’m not kidding you, they messed with me for two hours! (They did feed me Cold Stone Creamery Ice Cream and take me to Victoria’s Secret - fatten me up and then take me lingerie shopping. Good friends, good times.) Long story short we end up at the Ice Skating Rink where my daughter and several friends are waiting to go ice-skating with me. At this point, I had determined my friends were really out to kill me. But ice skating was fun and the ‘how-to’ eventually came back to me. We had some laughs, said ‘toe pick’ a hundred times, and Helen got blisters.

This is a picture of me and my daughter ice skating. She assumed she'd be like Barbie and immediantly skate like an Olympic Gold Medalist. She got pretty frustrated and started whinning "Mom, I can't do it!" Of course, she did pretty well for a three year old!



Now fast forward to Saturday night. About a month ago I managed to guilt my DH into telling me about my party. I pulled out the water works and everything. My friends swear I really am going to hell. Anyways, surprise party is busted. But I arrive at the local pub, to at least twenty of my dearest friends, balloons, a cake, the whole nine yards. It was fabulous! However, they did make me wear a party hat and some ’30 bling’. (See picture).



Best surprise was one of my best writing buddies, Shayla Kersten, made the hour and a half drive to come to the party! My mom tracked down a friend of a friend who knew Cynthia D’Alba (another best writing buddy), who contacted Shayla. She gifted me with an autographed copy of “Masters of Desire”. I practically squealed in delight (not really, but I did drool on the cover).

My mom and friends had gathered old photos of me and made three huge posters (documenting my entire awkward stages) AND I received three wonderful home-made photo albums. One of my posters...



Best night EVER!But that’s not all folks! Today I walk into my 'evil-day job' office to a life size MUMMY! (See picture). My co-workers have a great sense of humor. Tomorrow they are taking me out to lunch – the fun just won’t stop.

But like they say, “If it’s all downhill from here, it should be smooth sailing!"

No Good Deed...

Does it seem to anyone else that 2008 has been a total WITCH of a year?

Now wait, here comes the good stuff…

So Tuesday I'm sitting in my office, skipped lunch because I'm swamped…I am eating yogurt and graham crackers for lunch. On about the fourth graham cracker I start thinking that something doesn't taste right…so I look down at the top, it looks ok. I turn it over and it has little green, furry mold spots ALL OVER IT! Don't believe…look:

I run with my toothbrush to the bathroom (gagging all the way) and there are GREEN chunks stuck all in my teeth. As I'm brushing my teeth, I remember a story about my mom eating moldy donuts, so I get cracked up. So now I'm brushing my teeth, gagging AND laughing.

Later that day...every year (regardless of what I say when all is done) I volunteer to buy for Salvation Army Angel Tree kids. This year I had to go buy for 8 – yes, that's EIGHT – Salvation Army Angels.

By myself.

At Wal-Mart.

In the rain.

Had to make two trips through the checkout and to my car. On my second trip through the checkout, the store rejects my credit card. Apparently my activity was 'suspicious'. When the cashier hands me my card back, she drops it INTO THE SLOT between the bags and the register. So then we've got to get maintenance over there with screw drivers and wrenches. The card is finally rescued, but now I'm late picking up my daughter at daycare. I finally get to her at 6:06PM…6 minutes late. The daycare charges $10.00 a minute after 6:00. So now I'm out $60 bucks.

No good deed goes un-punished…Merry Christmas...until next year.

NEW SALE to Black Lace

ANNOUNCING MY NEW SALE!

'Twelve Steps' By: Shada Royce

in

Seduction: A Collection of Naughtiness From Black Lace!
Short story anthology, Available February 2009 - UK & April 2009 - US
Available for Pre-order at Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com

The main character of this story is a woman who sets out on a path to sexual self discovery by developing a twelve-step program which leads her to seduce a stranger and thereby release her inner vixen. The threat of having a tryst in a public location, with a stranger, only heightens her desire. In the end, she finds letting go of the reigns may be the ultimate step to any seduction...

SQUEEEE...Isn't is AMAZING!?

Photography

So I haven't been totally useless...in the midst of a major upheaval right now, in the tornado of chaos that has become my life, I have hit a good ole hard writers block. I know, you're not supposed to talk about it when you do - what if someone hears you have suddenly stopped typing!

I haven't stopped altogether, I just prefer to think of this time as 'vacation' for my characters...grumble, grumble, hope they return soon.

In this time of quiet reflection, I have reverted to my other favorite pastimes: Reading, photography, poetry, and music.

Reading: I am reading anything I can get my hands on right now. I've always been told that is the fastest way to work out writer's block. So currently on my nightstand: "The Other Boleyn Girl", "Doghouse Roses", and "Cherry Bomb". All of which hopefully don't give me nightmares, but is kind of like eating cold pizza and pickles before bed.

Photography: Check out 'S. Roberts Creative Photography' (go to http://www.shadaroyce.com/, then look under the 'links' tab), this is what I'm doing on days when I need to escape beyond the pages of a book. One of my favorite pastimes is to jump in my car, turn on my tunes, and drive around until I see something interesting to capture. Hey - its something creative, right!?

Poetry: That's write, I'm back to writing those toe-curling prose that make even me want to vomit, but sometimes you just have a bunch of emotional dribble you need to dispel - so I have been dispelling all over my newest composition notebook, of which I am SURE will have to be burned after the use of the last page (<---- really bad stuff {gagging})

Music: I have a new toy! (No, pull your head out of the gutter! NOT that kind of toy, sheesh)...dun, dun, duhnnnn: an iPOD - woohoo, welcome to the 21st century Ms. Royce, glad you could finally join us after almost NINE years. (Oh, and have to throw in my newest skill - TEXT MESSAGE - it's a necessary evil - some twitter, I text). So my iPOD has become the soundtrack of my life. I think that'd be a great iPOD commercial - you see this soccer mom (al la moi) in the grocery store and all the cashiers and bag boys are dancing with the fruits and veggies, then soccer mom blinks and takes off her headphones and all is normal again - but it's because she's jamming to her iPOD that she 'visualizes' this much more interesting reality. Do you get me here? You could have scenes where she is cleaning the house and she's all decked out in leather and singing then the kids walk in and she's in her yellow gloves and singing into the mop handle (has never happened to me, uh-hum). You could have scenes in traffic or on the subway or at the bank. The catch phrase could be "Make life a musical" - or something totally not that gay but catchy.

Ok...I just went off on a tangent...wonder if the muse is back? Hmmmm.....