Guys, I have been writing like a crazy person! But since my carpal tunnel is really bad, I have been writing by hand in my notebooks instead of on my phone. I am working on transcribing them this week. I’ll get something to you asap. xoxoxo
Hello all! Just wanted to apologize for my long absence. Nanowrimo took a lot out of me…which is funny, because I didn’t finish my book! I did, however, discover a whole new plot line for Grace. I decided to make it about Grace AND her mom. It will be a piece that is more about growth and forgiveness… and I am so excited about it. I just need to schedule more time to do the actual writing. I’ll pick a sample this week and introduce you to her mom. I think you will want to know her story, just as much as Grace’s.
I have another blogpost I just wrote up tonight, but since I am exhausted, I plan on editing it with fresh eyes tomorrow. The blog topics will range from Oprah’s Golden Globes speech, my religion, and the fresh outlook I have for 2018 with new ways I intend on challenging myself. Thank you to any of you who have continued to follow me in my absence! I look forward to getting back into the swing of things.
THE FAIR MAIDEN’S FIRST ADVENTURE: AKA THE GREATEST SADDEST STORY EVER TOLD
Once upon a time in a land, I like to call, stupid effing ever never land; Our fair maiden is the same as before, same long hair, same cheerful disposition. She is called Mandalicious. She was busily cleaning her kitchen and making supper and preparing her meal for the following day when she heard a knock at the door. Slightly annoyed at being disrupted during her Beyonce solo, she dried her hands and answered the door, slightly suspecting it may be her sickly neighbor. Alas, it was her.
“I have to get an emergency cat scan,” she said. “Of course you do,” the fair maiden thought.
“Can you please watch my dog for me while I go?” she pleaded desperately. “Of course I will,” Mandalicious instantly replied, because how was she going to say no. She didn’t mind really, since she is a lover of all furry creatures. The two neighbors decided the best solution would be to leave the sickly neighbor’s door as well as Madalicious’ door to let the dog roam at his leisure.
It was getting quite late for the poor maiden, as she deeply values her rest. She turned on the tv to watch some Beauty and the Beast (for the second time that week) and waited for her neighbor to depart. The neighbor needed to be fasting for four hours before getting the CT Scan and had to delay her departure for another 45 minutes. The fair maiden had taken her nighttime medicine at this point and was indeed ready to fall into some kind of slumber, whether it is deep or shallow, it mattered not. Her back hurt from cleaning and she desperately needed her bed.
At long last, the neighbor took the dog out one last time and departed. The sweet dog loves his mom, so he was very concerned and went down the stairs to wait by the door. Mandalicious convinced him to come up to her room. He seemed desperate to get into bed with her, but he was just too fat to make the jump on his own. So she lifted his portly body onto the bed, said her prayers and turned out the light. As she snuggled into the covers, the dog became restless. He fervently paced on the bed and would not be calmed. So she patiently put him on the floor in the hopes that he would go back to his bed in his mom’s room, and thus saving his poor dear little life.
At this point it was 11:30 pm and the fair maiden fell asleep quite quickly. Between midnight and 2am the stressed out dog would run out of the poor maiden’s room and then into the hall and down the hardwood floor, “click click click click,” went his nails. And then muffled little barks when he would run back into her room. Her sleep was intermittent and the poor lass was unbelievably vexed. At 3am she scooped his chubbiness up onto the bed in hopes that he would just snuggle up and go to sleep. It soon became clear to the sleep deprived girl that this fussy dog needed to relieve his bladder.
This was something not even the pirate eye could keep from fully waking her. She got out of bed and put some clothes on. Wearily she plodded to the neighbor’s apartment and retrieved the leash. Even though she was frustrated she was still loving to the poor creature, but happy she was not.
She gave up on pirate eyeing it when she got outside. The doggie sniffed everything and peed and then sniffed everything else. While she was out there she was thinking about how this was going to make a great story to tell in the morning. And then it came to her, this is the way she should write. And then, She thought of a blog name. Either Manda’sfairytaleinprogress.com or afairytaleinprogress .com.
After the short walk around the house, The pup seemed content to accepting that his mom was not in the yard as he had previously expected and took up a vigilant watch at the top of the stairs while he waited for her and did not bother the fair maiden the rest of the night. Because the pirate eye did not work, she laid awake for another half an hour and drifted off to some restful sleep. However, despite 4 separate alarms being set, she didn’t wake up until 725am and by some miracle, was in the car by 735am and was not late for work.
Approximately one hour into her work day she had a headache, but her attitude remained positive.
The end…or kinda the beginning.
Once upon a time the fair young maiden decided to finally get her car inspected and registered. This is a great feat, for the maiden loved to shop and needed some new pants, and wanted some other very frivolous things that she’d rather spend her money on. Alas, she did not want a ticket either, so she complied with the law and went on her merry way to The car fixer place.
The pubescent young man who greeted her gave her directions on how to park the car and then led her to the lobby. Well, he didn’t tell the confused girl that’s what was happening so she accidentally went into the employees office. The pubescent young man seemed startled that she hadn’t followed him when he walked away without any indication that she should. “No ma’am, in here,” he uttered and directed her to the proper sitting area. She walked into the claustrophobic room and was fairly certain she had actually walked into Hades.
The sun was at the perfect angle to bake the room to hellish temperatures. Her hair was long and thick and held all the heat in the universe around her neck and back. Immediately she began sweating. The lobby smelled like her grandpa’s shop he had while she was growing up. Mandalicious didn’t mind this part, the smell set off the nostalgic in her and it never bothered her when she was in a car shop. But then a skinny, greasy haired, younger gentleman (not so pubescent) came into the lobby. He sat a fair amount of chairs away from the maiden, much to her great happiness. Normally she liked people of all sorts, but the suffocating heat made her feel irritated that another warm body had come into the room and would then heat it further.
She was sitting there reading about how to pitch a novel to a publisher, when she noticed a strong scent of body odor. In the heat, sweating bullets, she tried to not inhale. This, obviously, was not the answer. The young lady was perusing her phone and minding her own business, but she finally looked up while gasping for air. The man was eating a subway sandwich with onions.
Now,the fair young maiden enjoyed onions; she even ate them from time to time. She was even known to put them on her Subway sandwiches. But the combination of the burning inferno that was that room and body odor onion smell made her feel like she was going mad. She assumed she felt a lot like how Harry must have felt in The Order of the Phoenix when he wanted to strike Dumbledore after he had his dream about Mr. Weasley being attacked (. It took all her effort to refrain from bursting out in anger to ask him if he was under the impression that the lobby we were sitting in was in fact the very deepest depths of hot fiery hell.
The maiden’s hopes were raised when the door opened. As she gulped for some of the outside air leaking in through the open door, a different worker looked nervously at her expectant face, “We will be done with yours in about ten minutes.” he stuttered as her face fell in horror. He escorted the stinky sandwich man out and closed the door. When the onion man returned, she again gulped for more fresh air. To keep her mind off of the hot and the scent she began to write a tale about this adventure. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the worker man came and got her. It is to be certain that the man did not understand why Mandalicious was gasping for breath as they walked towards her adorable Jetta.
Of course, the worker discovered some sort of expensive “safety issue” which needed to be addressed in order to move forward with the inspection and registration. She approved the flushing of the brake fluid for her car and insisted that she wait over on the grassy curb where the air was fresh and definitely lacking in the malodorous department. Her poor nerves had been set on fire by the hellfire that had set off her irritation and began to soothe while she looked up brake fluid to see if it was a real thing. Before she could surmise as to whether or not it was real, she was told the job was done. Happily she arose to pay for the services rendered. The only hiccough at this point was an embarrassing moment when she went to look for her keys to leave and then realized they were in fact in her car. The maiden and the worker shared a good hearty laugh at her simplemindedness. Riding off into the sunset, she thought to herself that it was no wonder the mechanics in the job might see her as a sucker. Shrugging her shoulders and thinking, “meh,” she drove home where she reheated pizza and settled in for a repeated viewing of Sense and Sensibility.
Until next time dear readers.
Once upon a labor day, the fair young maiden stayed in her house all day long. She wasn’t being lazy, she was finishing up painting projects, reorganizing her clothes, and even organizing her kitchen cupboards. Mandalicious even managed to take a very long nap, watch two Harry Potter movies, When Harry Met Sally and the beginning of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. After a while, she began to feel claustrophobic and antsy. She wanted to write, but couldn’t think of anything remotely clever. She even felt convinced (for about twenty-three seconds) that she had no more funny to give.
Knowing that was incredibly silly. The young lady had an arsenal of humor and inspiration. She just needed help brainstorming. So she called Gus. “Gus!” she declared, “I can’t write. I have nothing to say, but this blog thing… I want to make it work! Willst thou help me.” Now Gus is a good lad, and he turned off his new tv show to try and help Mandalicious get her creativity flowing. For a few minutes they argued about whether or not the young maiden was attracted to arrogant men, like Sir Robert Downey Jr., Gus was clearly trying to make her ragey and soon they decided to change the subject. Instead of arguing, he suggested she take a walk. He offered to stay on the phone with her whilst she walked.
“But it is 9pm! And alas, I have no footwear nor brazziere on,” she declared irritably. He quickly reminded her that these things were easily fixed, so knowing he was right (even though he is only right occasionally)she pulled herself off of the couch, quickly donned her shoes and undergarment. Somewhere in the background while her telephone device lay on the bed, she heard someone beat boxing while she readied herself.
“Ok! I am ready. I am wearing a ratty Statue of Liberty t-shirt and a pair of Utes pajama bottoms,” she uttered hoping this would get her out of it. He insisted that because it was dark no one would care. And then insisted further that no one would care even if it was daytime. In fact they argued about that for the length of her street. When she turned the corner and started walking east, she noted aloud that the moon was quite beautiful. It was full and bright. Remembering this a walk that intended to get creative juices flowing, he asked her to describe it to him. “Ugh I know not,” she sighed, “it is just beautiful.”
He, knowing how to vex her and push her to try harder, teased her relentlessly until she gave a half hearted attempt at describing the moon. She said, “because it is beautiful and still.” It was the still part that really got her thinking. The moon is so far away and we are so small in comparison. Yet here we are, on this little planet where we are exposed to so many beautiful things. She suddenly noticed how the air wasn’t frigid, but almost a perfect temperature. There was a warm breeze blowing around the scent of a summer that was starting to fade. There were crickets singing. It reminded her of camping adventures she had with her father as a young girl. The whole setting gave her a feeling of comfort and peace.
As she continued to walk and talk about the things which were popping into her head, her anxiety and restlessness released. The fair maiden felt more relaxed, while simultaneously feeling sweaty. Sprinklers were on and she could detect a hint of the wet cement smell, a scent she quite loved. There were roses to be sniffed, while there were lavender sprigs and sunflowers that begged to be stolen; and very possibly were in fact purloined. For the fair maiden was encouraged to “live dangerously” and snatch the coveted delicate flowers. The lass never fails to rise to any challenge and she may or may have not proven her worth in this matter when it comes to the lavender sprig…the sunflower was from a vacant lot.
While this adventure did not set the maiden off on a fervent writing spree that night, it had reminded her what she needed to focus on when writing. She thanked her silly yet amazing friend and gladly stored some fodder for writing on the morrow. She utilized the creativity to write this silly post, but also a few others that will later be published. It is her strong offered advice that if one is stumped with writer’s block, to go outside. Even if only for a little while (18 minutes is all it took for her). The fresh air and the other elements worked wonders on her restless heart and her head which was devoid of any creativity. One must foster creativity by giving it something to expound on. This lesson she did happily learn and did look forward to the days ahead where she would most hopefully come up with other funny and insightful writings for her readers.
When the fair young maiden was in high school, she wanted to travel the world and be a spy. There was something incredibly enticing about something so dangerous and let’s admit, a tiny bit sexy. Some of her favorite movies outside of the Rom-Com genre were The Saint, Mission Impossible, and The Bourne Identity. This could be because her fine father raised her on action movies with heroes played by Arnold Schwarzenegger, Bruce Willis, and Mel Gibson. Her exposure to this obviously taught her that the coolest and bravest men were spies, police officers, CIA agents, FBI agents, and hard core military men. They were in fact, the BEST kind of men. They led the most thrilling lives, with danger, and oftentimes, romance. It didn’t hurt that the leads in these kind of films were all incredibly attractive. So obviously if she wanted to be a spy, she was more likely to find a handsome spy husband. The maiden was a hopeless romantic and has even been accused of being optimistic from time to time.. Not to mention spies knew several languages, and the girl wanted to learn at least five.
Mandalicious was 17 and in the counseling office staring at the overwhelming bulletin board. There were flyers from local schools, schools in far away lands, and schools she had never heard of. Where was she even to begin? And there it was, staring her right in the face. It was a tiny green piece of paper that said something along these lines: “Want to learn multiple languages and work for the CIA? Call this number for more information.” Now, she doesn’t recall the exact wording, but it truly did reference the CIA and learning all sorts of languages. She excitedly jotted down the digits. Her heart leapt while she thought, “Oh my gosh! This is it! I am going to try and get into the CIA!” She hurriedly raced home. With bated breath and trembling fingers she dialed the numbers and waited. She thought she was going to get some pretty exciting information about how to work towards this amazing lifestyle she had convinced herself she had truly wanted.
Alas, it wasn’t to be so. Instead of a receptionist, she got a recording. It didn’t tell her she reached a number that had been disconnected. It said she reached a number that DID NOT EXIST. It was trickery! She double, triple and probably quadruple checked the numbers she had written down and called again. Same thing. The maiden even went as far as to check what she wrote down with the flyer in the counseling office. They matched. Mandalicious called the line a few more times, hoping it was some kind of screening process that she was failing for some reason and maybe with some persistence they would let her talk to someone. Eventually the disappointed lass gave up. Ands she is certain that it was two things: either it was a cruel guidance counselor’s idea of a great joke or the CIA somehow knew she would never do well as a spy.
Well, practice at anything can make anything perfect right? While this is true, some flaws and traits are so ingrained in people that they can’t ever really shake them. For our heroine, she happened to be a terrible liar. In fact, she could barely handle keeping a gift or birthday surprise from someone. Let alone some terrible state secret. If she had to assassinate people for a living, the girl would currently be in a padded cell. Mandalicious has had people ask her to keep secrets and can keep them, but if the pressure is on and someone is asking about something she is not supposed to say, they always knew by the expression on her face that she was not telling them the truth. Eventually, she was able to keep her cool whenever someone tempted her to tell a secret. But honesty was her virtue to a fault. It was as if keeping someone else’s confidence was a crime and she was terrified when someone caught her keeping another person’s secret from them.
Being unable to lie is not a bad trait, but in the spy world it would have got the poor girl killed. For one thing, torture is so not her thing; Mandalicious would have cracked, “Please no! Please, I’ll tell you anything!! Just don’t hurt that poor helpless puppy!!!” To this day she firmly believes that it is entirely possible that the CIA knew her number and that she was a terrible liar. As fortune would have it her career as a spy was never launched. She had a sensitive heart and was not cut out for the hardened life of a spy. She has never forgotten the experience, but still sometimes wonders what could have been.
The fair young maiden, whom will sometimes be called, “Mandalicious” (this name having been bestowed upon her by dear friend, Gus) never claimed to be a “neat freak”, as one might put it. In fact, she was a tiny bit of a slob, or just a plain slob. However, she preferred the term “messy” thinking it sounded slightly less slovenly. While she knew how to clean and was capable of creating a clean living space, there were always more important things to do. Sometimes a visit to the pool and catching rays were more important, while other times one of the many projects she had going on (scrapbooking, painting, writing, netflixing, reading, snuggling with a niece or nephew, etc.) would draw her attention and putting the clothes away just didn’t seem a priority really ever. While this caused much embarrassment throughout her life, as she got older, she began to accept that being a cluttered lass was part of her existence. (Aren’t there hundreds of articles on the interwebs that state a creative person is often messy?) So instead of being offended when people made comments, it was a tad easier to simply accept this character flaw and learn to love herself in spite of it, for creativity is what she thrived on. Acceptance of oneself is incredibly important if one is to live happily-ever-after under any circumstances, and Mandalicious was on a path of self acceptance and appreciation. It was unfamiliar territory, but it was a wondrous journey.
When describing her living quarters, she often described them as “messy, but not filthy” because no one obviously likes to walk on a floor covered in sticky crumbs or use a nasty lavatory, not even she. There came a time however, when she had to admit she could no longer let her depression and laziness rule her life. She needed to be more diligent in her self care if not for her mental health, but for her bottom. The story that changed the maiden’s perspective goes as follows:
Once upon a time the mid single maiden came home to a message from the proprietor of her lodgings. The message stated, “I need to speak with you this evening, Much obliged, Lord Fox.” -Or something in that manner.
Instead of trudging her weary self up the stairs to her quarters of the manor, she knocked hesitantly on the proprietor’s front door. “Come in! Have a seat!” he boomed. All the while, straining to keep his beautiful dog named Hazel from attacking her with all the love in the poor beast’s heart. As she sat down she greeted Lady Fox and her husband let her know he was having a pest control man come out to spray for the non existent bugs in the house (that is for a later post, because there is in fact no infestation of any kind). “You will have to move the furniture away from the walls, ahem, all the walls will need to be clear so the bug man could attend to his duties.” Mandalicious innerly cringed as she recalled that she hadn’t put clothes away in- well, not in a long while. The idea of having to clean instead of write was rather disappointing, but she thought to herself, “what an excellent catalyst of motivation.” The three of them discussed the non existent bug situation and then the maiden took her leave.
She summoned courage and desire to clean and then sat promptly down to do a puzzle. Do not worry reader, she did not stay there all night. No, Mandalicious got up and decided to do the dishes and pull everything into the center of the rooms. Her poor back was very angry with her, but she persisted. Soon enough she moved on to her clothes, (thankfully she had cleaned the living room and kitchen on Saturday). She did not manage to get much of that done. After deciding to finish in the morning (honestly what was she thinking? For anyone who truly knew this fair maiden knew getting up early was also not one of her strengths) she cleared her vanity and put the garbage full of papers that needed to be taken out in the morning close to the door, but out of her path. (It is most important to mention she did in fact accomplish taking the trash out, but not until it was too late; which I will more fully explain at present).
To cure her inability to get out of bed in the morning she had also started putting her phone on the vanity across from her bed. In order to turn off her loathsome alarm clock, she had to sit up and actually get up to turn off the phone. On this particular night, she did her nightly routine, set audible to play exactly 8 minutes of The Order of the Phoenix, and placed the phone on the vanity and retreated to her cozy bed. She drifted to sleep as soon as Jim Dale stopped speaking.
At approximately 4am, the urge to use the ladies room aroused her from her slumber. Well, the fair young maiden wasn’t going to approach this task without knowing precisely how many more hours or minutes she had to sleep before the dreaded call of the blasted alarm would let her know it was time to wake and ready herself for another day at work. However, as she got up to reach the phone, she stepped on the garbage bag and tripped forward, caught herself and fell onto the floor. This promptly caused her leg to cramp and evidently gave her an awful knot and bruise on her bottom. But no matter, at least she knew the time now.
While she was a tad sore, she knew this was quite hilarious and proceeded giggle to herself about how utterly lamebrained she sometimes is. In any case, the fair maiden vowed to do better in this department. Alas, the clothes did not in fact get put away, but rather thrown onto her bed. Temporarily they were back on the floor, but she had high expectations of herself and the floor is almost clear in her bedroom…almost. Tripping and falling in the middle of the night may make a great story, and while embarrassing to some extent, it really just made her more determined to better herself. She cut herself some slack and then she started a daily chore plan. So far ( it only being two nights since the fall) she has been progressing. Which is really what she perceived this life to be about, progressing.