tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73725412844976910972024-02-08T12:01:38.028-05:00The Good The Bad The UglyDivulge into the world of elite, substandard, and all that falls in between. Jump into a world where it's not all it's cracked up to be and where the voice of the common people is supreme.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-35507838286461123392012-09-04T11:29:00.000-04:002012-09-04T11:29:29.280-04:00New Projects and SuchHello All!<br />
<br />
I know it's been a little bit since I posted, and I beg your forgiveness! <br />
<br />
Things here have been... strange. Things just seem to be getting in the way of, well, everything. Some of the things, I swear if I wrote a book explaining it all, you'd scoff if you found it on a non-fiction shelf and think it had mislabeled! <br />
<br />
But anyways...<br />
<br />
So, I just finished the "Fifty Shades" trilogy and I have to say I am in love. It was fantastic. I miss Ana and Christian and I wish she would write a fourth book! I went into it knowing it started out as "Twiglight" fanfic, and I have to say, I think it helped me with perspective as far as the plot and characters are concerned. <br />
<br />
Side note: I totally hope they cast Jensen Ackles from "Supernatural" as Christian Grey (a pic my sister sent me with a quote is my phone's background image, I kid you not!<br />
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But alas, the real world has also been knocking on my door, well, pounding really. I let things go which required much attention and to my dismay, I do not know where the summer has gone. I feel quite bereft, I must say.<br />
<br />
So, I am working on hard on finding new clients in need of editing services, I am letting the first draft of "Eternal Chance" stew, and am in the middle of a new project, "The Devil Knows". <br />
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With that being said, if you are in need of a detailed eye to make sure that your manuscript is up to par, please email me at <a href="mailto:jj.felton@live.com">jj.felton@live.com</a> or visit jj-felton.com! Fantastic editing rates and payment plans are available.<br />
<br />
My new project, "The Devil Knows" is one that comes from the heart. After learning about a dear family friend who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, I focused all of my feelings into this single project. I've streamlined it into a readable story in a genre I am most comfortable in writing, and therefore contains a paranormal twist, but I hope the focus remains on the goal at hand.<br />
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#TDK follows Megan in her quest to find a way to cure her best friend Anya from cancer. She searches for conventional methods and after hitting a brick wall turns to an unconventional taboo method in order to give Anya the life she deserves.<br />
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What will Anya do if she discovers her best friend's sacrifice? How will Megan live with herself if she can't save Anya? How will anyone survive and face each other, or theirselves? <br />
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This story is a gut-wrenching tale of hope, despair, and above all else - love. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-75990156166714346372012-04-15T10:07:00.000-04:002012-04-15T10:07:40.694-04:00The Creation Nook's Mini Makeover!Well,<br />
<br />Since I posted about creating The Creation Nook, it has received a little bit of a makeover! It has more of a community feel. You can now have friends, join groups, and have discussions with other members!<br />
<br />
Go to jj-felton.com/creation.nook to join this community full of #AuthorAuthorities and stay up to date on postings about #EternalChance - my debut novel set to be available Halloween 2012! <br />
<br />
Follow me on twitter @bjpunxrox and 'like' my facebook page at facebook.com/jjfelton2012. Join in the craziness today! :)<br />
<br />
~J.J.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-79487191691847048912012-04-06T19:45:00.000-04:002012-04-06T19:45:57.559-04:00The Creation NookHello everyone!<br />
<br />
I have a new blog devoted to my writings and articles for other authors. It can be found at jj-felton.com/creation.nook.<br />
<br />
Every person who follows that blog by NOON EST on Sunday 4.8.12 will receive a FREE copy of Eternal Chance when it becomes available - hopefully Halloween 2012! Also, if you comment on either the Prologue or Chapter One of Eternal Chance, you are eligible for an little something extra! ;)<br />
<br />
Also, I have a new author facebook page at facebook.com/jjfelton2012. Everyone who 'likes' the page by NOON EST on Sunday 4.8.12 will be eligible to win a free digital unedited copy of my short story I am working on, The Storm.<br />
<br />
Spread the word to all your friends, family, coworkers, neighbors, and hell, even your worst enemy! Share some love.<br />
<br />
~J.J.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-64549417909080752622012-03-14T11:53:00.000-04:002012-03-14T11:53:36.331-04:00JJ FeltonCheck out my site jj-felton.com/creation.nook to keep up with my novel, Eternal Chance! Currently the Prologue is up for reading and reviewing! Monday Chapter One will see the first light of day.<br />
<br />
Please keep in mind this is the rough draft which is being posted. I'm constantly making revisions, but I have to keep some material new and fresh for when it comes out! I will be making each chapter Prologue through Chapter Six available online! <br />
<br />
Your comments and feedback could end up being the idea(s) that help shape my future revisions! <br />
<br />
Check it out!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-28892392845194359682011-08-24T12:22:00.000-04:002011-08-24T12:22:31.565-04:00DeadlineThe deadline for The Creative Spark is rapidly approaching!<br />
<br />
11:00 PM EST marks the deadline for the first issue! Please hurry and submit your material to sub.creativespark@live.com before it's too late!<br />
<br />
But don't worry. If you can't make the deadline still submit your material. The next two issues will also have the same topic: The Adventures and Mishaps of Love and Life.<br />
<br />
We are looking for articles, poems and short stories.<br />
<br />
Get your submission in today!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
***Guidelines can be found at <a href="http://thewritinghotspot.socialgo.com/">The Writing Hot Spot</a> or <a href="http://creativespark.presspublisher.us/">The Creative Spark</a>! Don't forget while you are at either site to sign up to become a member!***Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-83296066412964845382011-08-14T16:30:00.015-04:002011-08-14T23:27:00.183-04:00EditingSo, I have offered my services to a fellow author on one of the community groups I am in. He isn't able to afford an editor, and so I have offered to edit it for free.<br />
<br />
I am a grammar nazi, only nicer than those which Hitler had employed. When I read something, even published books, I find parts where I go, but maybe this would be better.<br />
<br />
With that said, along with trying to get my first e-zine off the ground, run my social network and write my book, I decided to pull myself into another direction: Editing.<br />
<br />
If anyone is interested in getting a piece edited, please email sub.creativespark@live.com with the type of piece, length of piece, budget, and first three pages for a free sample edit.<br />
<br />
You will receive a response within 24 hours.<br />
<br />
Thank you,<br />
<br />
JJ FeltonAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-80819759444965313652011-08-12T20:16:00.000-04:002011-08-12T20:16:26.851-04:00The Creative Spark Is In Need!The Creative Spark is currently seeking the following:<br />
<br />
Authors - Both full time (meaning a commitment to contribute 1-2 pieces per month and periodic contributors.<br />
Subscribers- Subscribe to receive The Creative Spark as soon as they are available!<br />
Editor- Looking for 1-2 people to *volunteer* their time to edit the submissions on the website.<br />
<br />
email: sub.creativespark@live.com<br />
<br />
***All positions are volunteer and currently unpaid***<br />
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<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-61853538676652850182011-08-09T16:50:00.002-04:002011-08-10T08:49:16.703-04:00The Creative Spark Submission GuidelinesSubmissions can be sent to sub@creativespark@live.com for The Creative Spark e-zine.<br />
<br />
This quarter (3 monthly issues) will be focused on the adventures and mishaps of life and love. Next Quarter (3 monthly issues) will be focused on horror. The Third Quarter (3 monthly issues) will be focused on Sci-fi/Fantasy.<br />
<br />
You may submit for any of these three quarters at this time. The subject of your email should be as follows:<br />
Submission: Title: Quarter<br />
<br />
Submissions under 2000 words should be in the body of the email. Submissions over 2000 words should be sent in .doc or .docx file. (Anyone whose file does not pass the security virus scan will be considered to have intentionally and maliciously have tried to compromise the integrity of the system and e-zine.)<br />
<br />
Please send one piece per email. Simultaneous submissions are accepted, but if it is accepted someone else, please send another email. At this time we are only accepting previously unpublished works (blogs and critiquing websites are not considered previously published). You will retain all copyrights to your work.<br />
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There is no word or line limits. The only limits are those that your imagination presses upon you.<br />
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Please make sure your work is spell-checked. These should be works ready to be published. Anyone looking for an editor I suggest <a href="http://rebeccafaitheditorial.com/">Becca Faith Editorial</a>. Tell her I sent you! ;)<br />
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At the end of your email please include your name, or pen name and an optional bio of up to 200 words.<br />
<br />
All submissions are due the 24th of each month. If your piece is received after it will be used for the next issue, unless we are on a new Quarter.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-55278459080758715402011-08-09T15:37:00.000-04:002011-08-09T15:37:07.974-04:00The Creative SparkI just seem to be the entrepreneur! I have created a new online magazine which will include short stories, articles, and poetry!<br />
<br />
It is called The Creative Spark and I hope to have the first issue on the site within the next three week.<br />
<br />
If you are interested in submitting a piece of work please email: sub.creativespark@live.com<br />
<br />
Include your piece in the body of the email and include your name or pen name you want it published under. You may also include a short bio of 200 words or less.<br />
<br />
The website url will be: <a href="http://creativespark.presspublisher.us/">http://creativespark.presspublisher.us/</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-83458163084328091652011-08-09T11:14:00.001-04:002011-08-09T11:16:01.151-04:00Not For Me<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Surprise!” Eric said as he took off the blindfold that was covering his girlfriend, Ally’s, eyes. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ally got out of the car and looked around. “Where are we? What’s going on Eric?” Ally looked in front of her and saw a large metal gate and a small building to her right. There was a narrow winding path beyond the gate that she presumed led into the woods.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eric put his arm around Ally’s waist and let her to the gate, where a guard stood. She noticed a lot of people were at the gate and wondered what was going on. “I wanted to do something special for you, since your birthday is coming up.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the check.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ally just looked at him and shook her blond curly hair. “Whatever. My birthday isn’t for another week Eric.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“So, I’m a little early. But it was today or never. And I knew you’d hate me if you found out I didn’t do this for you.” He grinned with anticipation, knowing he was giving her the surprise of a lifetime.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ally stopped and turned to face Eric. “So, where are we? We drove for a long time. What time is it?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eric looked at his watch and replied, “Eight.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Eight?!? Eric! We drove for three hours! Are you insane?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Calm down Ally! What is the matter with you? Jeez, I thought I was being thoughtful. But maybe you’re right. We should just head home. It’s just some stupid concert you wouldn’t want to see anyway. It isn’t not like they’re front row and I put a lot of thought into your present, or anything.” He couldn’t believe how she was acting. She could be so ungrateful. He knew his friends wondered why was with her. She could be really sweet though, when it suited her.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She could tell he was mad, and she didn’t want that. He was too nice to her. She knew she’d have to be nicer.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I’m sorry. Thank you Eric. It’s sweet. Who’s playing?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“That’s the best part! Who is your favorite boyfriend?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ally shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on who is playing,” she teased.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Well, in that case, I think it will be because it’s your favorite band.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At that moment all of the color drained from her face.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“That’s right! The one and only…. UNUSUAL! Isn’t that great? They’re front row!”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Unusual? Front row?” Oh no, Ally thought to herself.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I don’t feel good. I think it’s food poisoning. Maybe we should go home.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Home?” Eric asked with astonishment. “Nonsense. It’s just excitement,” he said as he grabbed her arm and half dragged her toward the path that led to the arena.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">***</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Meanwhile, the guys from Unusual-Jack, Michael, and Brent- were backstage preparing for that night’s concert. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“This is going to be the most awesome show of the millennium guys!” Jack exclaimed, bursting with energy. “I’m so excited!”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jack looked over at his best friend and fellow band mate, Michael. He knew Michael wasn’t in a good mood, but didn’t know why.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Are you O.K. man?” Brent asked.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Shut up Brent!” Michael looked like he was about to kill someone, and at that moment, Brent was looking like a pretty good target.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Brent looked at Jack, but he just shrugged. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled, leaving Jack and Michael alone.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“If you wanna talk about whatever’s eating at you Mic…” Jack said and looked away.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I think she’s cheating on me,” Mic mumbled.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jack looked quickly at Michael in shock. Shocked at the announcement, shocked he admitted it. He almost looked scared at the admission.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Allison? Why?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Michael looked sheepish. “She’s been acting weird.” Jack nodded to show he understood. “So I looked thought some papers on her desk. There was another guy’s number on a slip of paper.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jack stood up and walked over to Mic and put his trembling hand on his shoulder. “How do you know it’s a guy’s number?” he asked fearfully. “Do you know whose it is?” Jack closed his eyes nervously anticipating Mic’s answer.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“She wrote ‘Eric’ above it in bubble letters.” He looked up at Jack, to see a look of relief wash over his face. “Why?” he asked suspiciously, but Jack just shook his head. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Come on Mic. Let’s get ready. We have to get on stage,” Jack said, “We wanna check out the crowd,” he assed as they walked out to meet Brent. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">They all walked to the corner curtain and Jack looked out. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He stared in shock and amazement. “Maybe we should skip scouting the crowd this time,” Jack said in a nervously quiet voice, as he turned around.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“No way! It’s a ritual man!” Brent pushed past Jack to take a look. “Um. Maybe you’re right. Let’s go.” </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“What’s going on? “ Mic asked suspiciously. He pushed past his band mates and looked in the crowd. He stared at his girlfriend, who was in the front row with another guy. “The little…When I get my hands on her I’ll….”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Brent grabbed Michael’s shoulders and said, “Look at me. She is nothing.” Mic just shook his head and walked away, muttering, “No, she was everything.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">***</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Eric, really. Why can’t we go home? I don’t feel well.” She felt like crying. This couldn’t be happening. She knew what was about to transpire. The inevitable was about to take place right in front of her, and now was the time to pay for her sins, and deal with the consequences of her choices and actions.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Why are you getting so upset? Why do you want to go?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I wish I could explain Eric,” she said with tears in her eyes, and looked away.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
Eric grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her back towards him. “Honey, what’s wrong? What’s going on? Tell me, please.” He looked at her, his green eyes pleading not to be left in the dark.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I’m sorry Eric. About everything. Really. I just…I…I don’t know. You’re a real sweet guy. I’m sorry.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“What are you sorry about Ally? Tell me!” He looked at the tears in helplessness and confusion. He hated to see her cry. He knew she’d been unhappy, and he hoped the tickets would make her smile and be happy, but it seemed to have to the opposite effect. “Please tell me,” he gave her a final plea as the lights began to dim.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Can we leave? Please Eric? This is the last chance. We can get out of here and everything will be fine.” She knew it wouldn’t but she didn’t want it to be like this.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He could see that she was close to hysterics, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. His suspicions that she was keeping something from him intensified. “Sure. As soon as you tell me why,” he demanded.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I’ll tell you in the car, I promise.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Not good enough.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Eric, please.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He didn’t know what to do. He looked up and saw Unusual come on stage. The one guy, Michael, looked mad, and the others looked afraid. Afraid of him or afraid of what made him angry, he wasn’t sure. They walked out to the middle of the stage. Everyone screamed, except Eric and Ally. Ally looked up and saw Michael looking right at them.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Oh, God,” she whispered under her breath.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name is Mic Ginuese.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ally was scared. She knew that he knew. How could he not? He looked right at them. He wouldn’t say something, would he? She hoped not. Maybe she and Eric could leave before he said anything. Please don’t let him say anything, she silently pleased. Luck, as it turned out, was not on her side that night.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Next week is my girlfriend’s birthday. I see she was able to come to the show after all. I’m so glad,” Mic said sarcastically. “I’d like to dedicate this first song to my lying, cheating, conniving, now ex-girlfriend, Allison. Enjoy. Oh, and um, unhappy birthday.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Oh no,” Ally said as Unusual started the song “Not For Me”. They just stood in front of the stage, stunned, as the band played, not knowing what to say to each other.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eric looked at Ally as the band started their second song. “You lied to me,” he accused.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I’m sorry Eric, really.” She couldn’t even look at him. She couldn’t believe Mic just did that to her. She knew that she just lost everything, and more than likely, everyone.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“We’re leaving,” Eric said, grabbing Ally’s arm, pulling her along behind him. Once they got to the parking lot, he stopped. His abrupt halt made Ally walk into him.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Jerk,” Ally muttered, wiping her eyes. Eric quickly looked up at her. “Mic, not you,” she clarified. “I can’t believe he did that. I admit I deserve it, though.” She leaned against the car, put her head down and cried.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eric ignored the urge to go over and hug her, to do anything that he could to make her pain go away. He just wanted to comfort her and make her tears stop. “How could you do this?” Eric asked instead. He was angry and fighting back his own tears.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I was going to break up with him, I swear.” She bit her lip, knowing that it wasn’t really an excuse for her actions.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“But you didn’t. And do you honestly expect me to believe that? You’re gonna break up with a pop star for a nobody?” He didn’t believe her. Did she think he was stupid?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now it was her turn to be angry. “You’re not a nobody. I meant what I said before. You’re the sweetest guy I ever met. Mic didn’t even ask me to tonight. And if he did, I would've said no so I could be with you.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He didn’t know what to say. A part of him agreed with what Mic had said, but he knew she was hurting. He didn’t know if he could believe her or not. “I need time, Ally,” he said as he walked towards her. She looked up and nodded.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">They got into the car to go home. They talked enough to keep them sane during the long ride home, but it was a tense conversation.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">***</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The weekend after the fiasco of Ally’s love life, Mic was trying to get a hold of Jack to see if he wanted to go clubbing.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mic called Jack’s house and the machine picked up. He left a message and tried his cell. It rang four times before he heard the click of someone answering it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Jack, let’s go clubbing. It’ll be fun. Brent really wants to go,” Mic said before the person on the other end could even say ‘hello’. “Jack, are you there?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“No, he’s not,” a female voice replied.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Allison!” Mic almost screamed her name in shock. “What? I would’ve…I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number.” Mic felt so humiliated. He couldn’t believe he did that.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“No Mic. You didn’t dial the wrong number,” she replied in an almost-whisper.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“What? Then how…?” Mic sat down on the bed, not knowing what to do or say. “Where is Jack?” he finally demanded.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“He went for a walk,” Ally said, willing herself to stay calm. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Why didn’t you answer the house line?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
“It didn’t ring,” was her shocked answer.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I just called.” His skepticism grew about the situation that had unraveled before him. It continued to grow the more she spoke.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Which number did you dial?” she asked.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Jack’s house number,” was his reply.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“That’s why. We moved and have a different number.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“We?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Yes Mic. We.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mic’s mind was racing. He thought back and remembered how weird Hack had been the night of that fateful concert. He remembered how Jack had acted scared when he mentioned the number and how he thought Allison had cheated on him. It was all coming together now.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Jack and you are living together?” he asked, amazed he didn’t see the clues earlier. They had been right in front of him this whole time.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Yes Mic. I have to go. I’ll tell him you called,” Ally said, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Don’t bother,” Mic said as he hung up.<br />
<br />
<br />
This is something I had done up in my creative writing class. Let me know what you think! :)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-4698862484763191342011-08-09T10:38:00.000-04:002011-08-09T10:38:10.821-04:00Better Than Ever<br />
I know I was gone for a bit. :( But I am now back in action! :) WOOHOO!<br />
<br />
The story is going pretty well. I did some major renovations on it already, and it's not even compete. hehe. But all the changes were for the better. :) So I'm excited and quite pleased.<br />
<br />
The social network is going to be a huge success! At least that's my prediction. When I launched the site on Saturday I was hoping to have 10 members by the end of the week. I am pleased to announce that I made the goal in UNDER 48 hours! There are currently 15 members including myself!<br />
<br />
Holy smokes Batman! :)<br />
<br />
Visit my social network at <a href="http://thewritinghotspot.socialgo.com/">The Writing Hot Spot</a><br />
Follow me on Twitter @bjpunxrox<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-86521246833341136842011-08-07T14:02:00.000-04:002011-08-07T14:02:57.873-04:00New Social NetworkHello everyone!<br />
<br />
I wanted to let everyone know of a new social network I created located at thewritinghotspot.socialgo.com.<br />
<br />
This is a great new site for both writers and readers! Authors feel free to join and post your work *or snippets* and have other authors and readers leave feedback.<br />
<br />
Join now<br />
<br />
thewritinghotspot.socialgo.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-81426551754474253632011-03-20T12:03:00.000-04:002011-03-20T12:03:18.230-04:00In NeedMis Amigos, <br />
<br />
I need your tremendously brilliant minds to come up with some ingenious plotting! I need some ideas for my story as to what obstacles a young woman would face were she stranded alone in an abandoned church. There are traps set up in order to hurt and maim her, but not to kill her. I already have had her crossing a threshold of glass and encountering acid on the floor and railing of steps. <br />
<br />
I need at least two more encounters that she may face. Remember, she is in utter darkness and unable to see anything.<br />
<br />
Danke!<br />
<3Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-30689981876859834422011-03-19T09:52:00.000-04:002011-03-19T09:52:26.425-04:00Phantom EFXHola!<br />
<br />
I thought that I would share something with you that I love. It's a wonderful interactive game that I spend way too much time playing. It is called Reel Deal Casino Live from Phantom EFX. It is the first fully interactive casino, which you pay no money for, unless you subscribe. The slots are totally cool and completely free! You earn achievements on the slots, complete quests from different areas and from NPCs. If you subscribe you can either get one or two free slots per month. <br />
<br />
There are loads of slots or table games that you can play, if you are more into tables than slots. There is definitely something for everyone. So come and join the fun by downloading RDL at <a href="http://www.phantomefx.com/">www.phantomefx.com</a> today!<br />
<br />
Enjoy!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-20622448650660438992011-03-09T11:01:00.000-05:002011-03-09T11:01:21.971-05:00Eternal ChanceAh, mi amores, <br />
<br />
Here is the prologue of a book that I am *attempting* to write, along with my BFF! Exciting. This is the first project that I've started that wasn't a short story that I actually feel confident I can finish (there have been short stories pushed aside LOL). <br />
<br />
This is the project I referenced earlier. It is about vampires and demons and gods, but down here on Earth. Actually, it takes place mostly in a hospital psychiatric ward. Female patients from the hosptial (all different floors and units) and a girl who is half vampire/half god goes undercover at the hospital because there is a vampire who is working there as a psychiatrist and she believes that he is the one responsible. With the help of a fellow patient, a teenager who can see the deaths of the recently deceased, she embarks on the quest for truth.<br />
<br />
I hope that you enjoy immensely, and be generous in feedback! <br />
<br />
<3<br />
<br />
<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Prologue</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="left">Darkness, that's all there was, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Not a glimmer of light was let into the room, if that's even what it was. Although it might be plausible that there were not even be windows to let in the light. Was it daylight already, or was the moon still high in the sky? Too many questions, with not nearly enough answers. Dark panic is all that surrounded her, like a velvet coat, wrapped tight like a second skin. Maybe I went blind, she thought to herself. The thought wasn't nearly as comforting as she had hoped. The automatic blinking of her eyes told her she still had that functionality, so it wasn't a problem where she unknowingly still had her eyes closed. Maybe the hospital had lost power, and the generator wasn't working. That would explain why the emergency back up lights hadn't come on. Someone would come in and check on her soon, she just had to sit tight until then.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">It was at that moment when she realized that she was indeed in a sitting position, which was strange. Shouldn't she be laying down, if she were in her hospital bed? She reached her hand out, to see if she could feel the edge of the dresser. There was nothing to grab a hold of, no bed rails or dresser. In fact, during her arms length exploration, she felt underneath her, and found that she wasn't even in her bed. Instead her fingertips grazed hard cold stone. It felt gritty and coarse, like concrete or cinder blocks. She was propped in the corner, on the floor; she was able to feel the two walls meeting at her back. </div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">She strained her eyes and ears, hoping for something that would give away her location, but it was just as silent as it was dark. With the walls at her back, she knew she was in some sort of structure. Buildings have doors, which means that there was a way out. She had been surprised that she wasn't bound and had been able to move her hands and arms. She wasn't sure why someone would go to the trouble of taking her from the hospital, and then leave her in a room unties and able to escape.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">Upon attempting to stand, she realized that there was a sharp stabbing pain in her head. Did someone hit her over the head? Had she been drugged? Using the wall at her back for support, she slowly slid her body upright. Unfortunately, the new perspective of her prison didn't provide her any more light in which to see.</div><div align="left">With the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she pushed away from the wall, propelling herself a few steps forward. Screaming, she stumbled back into her corner, collapsing back on the ground. With tears streaming down her face, she reached towards her feet. Biting her bottom lip, she felt along the sole until her fingers gingerly bumped against a jagged edge. Feeling her way against the protruding object she realized it was small. After taking a deep breath to brace herself, she pinched her fingers together along the smooth surface and pulled the shard of glass away from her skin.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">With a cry of victory she threw the glass to the side. Her triumph was short lived however when during further exploration of her feet, she discovered at least a dozen other pieces of glass had been embedded into her feet. They ranged from slivers to large shards. In defeat, she slumped back against the wall, slightly rapping her head on the wall. "Just great," she muttered with a sigh of resignation.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">Above her head, she heard a slight crackling noise. Cocking her head to one side, she tried to discern what could be its source. A few seconds later, it became more a loud buzzing. To her, it almost made the room appear to be vibrating. The sound began to pierce her ears and make her want to crawl out of her skin.</div><div align="left">As suddenly as the sound had started, it stopped. She was panting, with her hands pressed tight against her ears when she shouted, " What do you want from me?"</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">She wasn't really expecting an answer when she heard a voice reply, "I want to see how long you can survive."</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-13715081034229317712011-03-08T10:39:00.002-05:002011-03-08T10:39:42.943-05:00Away<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You say it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I don’t love you”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I don’t believe you</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You won’t look at me,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Can hardly say it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t believe it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I know the truth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I walked away</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And you let me go.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yet I have my doubts</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maybe it’s the same for you too</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hear your softly spoken words</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They won’t leave my head</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And now I’ve gone</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And messed it all up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But it had crumbled</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fell down long before.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t believe it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I know the truth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I walked away </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And you let me go.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now you’ve walked away.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-87443602399444104712011-03-07T08:28:00.000-05:002011-03-07T08:28:42.753-05:00The Truth of the Matter<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s not easy walking in this world, pretending to be something that you are not. Even when you have gone your entire life with the people around you only having met this façade that you have created. Let me tell you, it is hard living up to the standards and expectations that you put on your fake self. Everything has to be just right. Heaven forbid the real you peek out ever. It would lead to disastrous results. Who would want you then? You can never let the world you have created slip, for even a second. The zombie can never be revealed for what it is. The empty shell that you are, which nothing can fill, can ever be cracked. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It would be akin to someone cracking an egg. What happens then? What is expected? I think the world would go mad if suddenly one Sunday morning, you were standing at your stove in the kitchen, frying pan abuzz, and you cracked that shell, and nothing. No yellow yolk surrounded by that filmy clear meniscus sliding out. You would be left there apron and all, stunned. Absolutely astounded by the fact that what you have come to expect after all of these years, suddenly ceased to exist.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What would you say then, if you were to know the truth about me? How would you react knowing that I am as equally hollow as that egg shell you cracked that Sunday morning for your breakfast? I was no longer dependable. I was different. The illusion, the magic, is broken. I’m a fraud. I am not, nor have I ever been, what I appeared to be. I’m not that quiet, shy 26 year old girl that you met back when she wore pigtails in elementary school, or braces in high school. She wasn’t even the boisterous and creative person that you met in drama class. I am none of these things. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t get me wrong. There are people who have seen glimmers of me. My family, when I was young and not as skilled as I am today, saw pieces of me growing up. They know the truth, or at least, a version of it. Albeit, a more accurate than that of which I have painted to most people since my adolescent years. But, even they have let their minds deceive them into thinking most of what I was is behind me now. Their minds betray the reality of that which stares them in the face. They are unable and unwilling to look past the lies and the assurances for the signs of the truth which they know lurk in the shadows beside me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a reality that is real only to me. I live a life that no one is privy exists. The fear, the sorrow the emptiness, it is mine alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you were able to see into my world, I fear that you would not find your way out of the twisted bowels that I call my mind. You may wonder, and ask yourself, what could be so terribly wrong with this seemingly normal girl. What afflicts her so terribly? Why does she feel the need to hide and shield herself? But, my friend, it is not I that I am shielding. The world is not ready for my reality, so in essence, it is the world which I shield and protect. For there are some that I have gentle feelings towards, and I believe that if they were to ever know what lies inside of me, it would leave them forever altered by the darkness. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The darkness isn’t always there, but it is never far, and on occasion finds me when I least expect it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s always lingering, so it isn’t necessarily a surprise. But I have found that when things are going exceedingly well, that they diminish over time. The darkness and emptiness will not let themselves be forgotten and be put on the back burner for long. So in the end, they are my only companions, the only constant in this ever changing world. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I used to believe that I was just making a series of bad decisions and that the choices I made were in bad judgment. But, sitting here, I have come to realize that it could not be helped. It wasn’t that the decision was wrong, or that which I believed turned out to be incorrect, but merely my true self revealing itself and telling me that it was once again time to embrace the darkness. When I would take a good hard look, I would realize then that my shell was still empty. That which made me laugh and sing didn’t even scratch the surface or make a mark on who, or what, I am. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I sit here, almost afraid to reveal myself to you. I know your curiosity about my darkness has been piqued. Almost on the edge of your seat aren’t you? I am afraid that the big reveal would be something of a letdown, on both our parts. It isn’t terribly exciting or unique. But, it is who I am and how I live my life. </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-50311475449996565582011-03-06T10:36:00.001-05:002011-03-07T15:37:49.551-05:00The Good and Bad of Buying a HouseLike many working class American people today, I am currently in the market to buy my first house. I can afford a decent house, although the amount that I can actually afford to spend each month on a mortgage brings my buying price slightly below the average in the area I am looking at. But, I am the eternal optimist and believe that if I do whatever necessary, I will be in a new house (new to me, at least) within the next 3-4 months. <br />
<br />
The downside, when I started, my credit was oh-so-less-than-perfect. I had credit cards from when I was in college and not working, and some from when I was in the middle of a divorce and jobless and unable to make my monthly payments, plus those ghastly medical bills that appear out of no where because I had insurance that should have taken care of everything minus my co-payment. Trust me, all of these things amount to a low credit score. Not to mention, not understanding all of this, and applying for credit, even when I was pretty sure that it wouldn't be granted, yes those inquiries really do bring down your credit score.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, I recently found a company who seems interested in helping me. So, back when I first gott in contact with my mortgage consultant, he pulled my credit and sent me a copy so that I could see what was being reported to all three credit reporting agencies. That allowed me the ability to see what I needed to fix and dispute. I made a list of all of my collection accounts, amounts, and what/when I thought I could pay them.<br />
<br />
This fueled the fire to my quest. My quest was to get as much of the negative items off of my credit report as possible. I went to all three websites and just disputed EVERYTHING. Even if I thought or knew it to be valid as belonging to me. Thankfully, I got results in that 80% of the negative items either deleted or status changed to show all payments were received on time. Once everything was in, and it went to the underwriters, the only issue they had were my collection accounts that were non-medical. With the items being deleted or paid, it brought my credit above what it needed to be in order to get approved for a FHA mortgage.<br />
<br />
Now onto the hunt for the perfect house. So, just remember, do not despair, and think positively. I was able to go from too low to even be considered to mortgage worthy in a little over a month. You just have to put your mind to it, and look for the right lender who is willing to take what you have to offer. They are in the business of wanting your money, they aren't making money if they don't get mortgages approved. So, dispute everything and pay off any remaining collection bills. If you are going for an FHA mortgage, pay your non-medical collections and keep your receipts that show they are paid in full, just in case they aren't updated on your credit report!<br />
<br />
In the end, you may have a smaller down payment, but as long as you have at least 3.5% then you should be in business.<br />
<br />
Happy Hunting!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-48266729043808746762011-03-05T13:42:00.000-05:002011-03-05T13:42:02.734-05:00UpdateSo I have some new information regarding the story currently being written. There are going to be girls held, one at a time, in an old abandoned church. Their job is to try to escape the maze in total darkness, and avoid the traps left for them. The glitch? The madman holding these female prisoners has no intention of them ever leaving, dead or alive...<br />
<br />
Gotta love the creative juices flowing! ;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-46236539566722920992011-03-01T16:33:00.000-05:002011-03-01T16:33:23.336-05:00InspirationSo, my best friend and I are writing a book and I need a little bit of inspiration. There is going to be an abandoned building where girls are left to try to find their way out, in complete darkness, but there are traps all over, leading to injuries. Some help as to what type of building it should be and different things that could be set up to happen to the girls would be AWESOME! :)<br />
<br />
mucho amore!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-12185052496313719552010-12-31T13:28:00.001-05:002010-12-31T13:28:30.346-05:00A New's Resolution To Accept<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Year’s resolutions. We all make them. At the brink of a new year everyone looks around and finds things within their life that makes them unhappy. I know but you want want to shed ten pounds, find that new exciting career opportunity, go back to school, or be able to afford to buy that new dress you’ve been eying at Chico’s. I know, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you know that if you buy that new dress then you will also want the matching shoes and purse! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, I have made a new kind of resolution, one of resolve and acceptance. This year I am not going to resolve to change anything. That’s right! Those pesky ten pounds can stay right where they are, because let’s face it, I like to eat, as do you. Nor am I ever going to be happy buying just the dress. This year I am just going to accept the fact that wher</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">e I am in life and what I have is the way things are supposed to be and are going to stay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In a year and a half my boyfriend still hasn’t filed for divorce from his wife. Why work myself up about it every other day? He makes me happy and he doesn’t love her, so why should I care? It’s not her that he lives with and wants to be with together. He doesn’t want to get married again, and I do despite my saying “Been there, done that” because I know it’s what he wants to hear. Nothing I say is going to change what he is going to do and therefore I am not going to waste my time and energy trying to change him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Am I thrilled with the job that I currently have? No, I am not. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to quit my job and just hope that something else comes along in the meantime. Yes, I will continue to look for something that will increase the meaning of my life as well as the money in my pocket. But as I’ve said before, I am in this position now for a reason. Do I know what that reason is, absolutely not but I’m sure I’ll know what it is when it presents itself. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My point is, why do we spend every December 31<sup>st</sup> agonizing over what we don’t like and want to change about ourselves and our lives? Instead we should be celebrating the new year by appreciating what and who we have in our lives. Because the truth is, even once we gain what it is we wanted, there will always be something more that we wish we had. Let’s face it: We want what we can’t have, and once we have it, we don’t want it!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Go out with your loved ones, celebrate the time that you have together. Be happy for your family and your job and your significant other. Love those ten extra pounds, because they are what makes you, well, you! Trust me when I say that you look fabulous in those jeans just like that! Things and money won’t make you happy and wishing you had it will definitely only have the opposite effect on you. Live your life to the fullest and enjoy every moment of it with someone that you love.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7372541284497691097.post-72308551056539330852010-12-31T13:27:00.000-05:002010-12-31T13:27:32.389-05:00The Truth About Working In Special Education<span style="color: red;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I no longer had the temporary position that I held on an insurance company’s technical support team, I found myself floundering. Here I was with a household size of five with no job. The job that I thought was perfect and dreamed would turn into a permanent position was over. There was no going back. Sure, I had unemployment benefits coming in, but not at the $13.00 an hour I had become accustomed with receiving. So, it was time to find my next dream job. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With the way that the economy is going, I’m sure most of you can relate to the cut-throat world of job applications and interviews. You scour the internet and the local newspaper for that perfect job. What happens though when you don’t know what your dream job is or when you don’t find it? You end up taking the first opportunity that either sounds like fun, or just plain will pay the bills.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I accepted a position that had been extended to me from my current employer, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It took me all of a half of a day to realize that I may have gotten myself in over my head. The position I accepted was that as a teacher’s assistant, or paraprofessional. You may wonder just what is wrong with this type of position. The answer is simple: Absolutely nothing. What you may fail to realize at this point is that the school in question is a private special needs school. The classrooms consist of emotional support and autistic support students.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My brother-in-law’s daughter has Asperger’s, a type of autism. Having been around her for a large portion of her life, and with my associate’s degree in education, I thought myself to be well suited and equipped to handle this type of environment. One problem may be that for most of my working career, I either A) worked in a hardware store or B) worked at a desk all day. I never worked with kids, let alone a classroom of multiple children who all had some sort of special need.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To say I was in for a surprise is the understatement of the year. While I love the kids that I work with, they are a challenge to my sanity at times. There are days where I just don’t know how I am going to survive the next day. They push my buttons, they scream for no reason other than they think the louder they are the more they will get their point across, and then there is the violence. I can’t count the times that I have been spit on, bit, punched, kicked, and had objects chucked at my head. The worst though, is when the violence is directed towards each other. When two students just have it in for each other and you have to be on top of at least one of them all times is difficult. When it comes time for gym or recess, keeping two students apart and not letting them play together is tough. Even though they know that it’s best for them to stay away from each other, it’s like they are magnets drawn to each other.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The most challenging aspect of my job has nothing to do with my job what-so-ever. It’s what happens when the kids go home. Even though they are in an educational setting, a lot of what is done while they are in school is trying to get the negative behaviors to decrease and showing replacement behaviors. But it seems that a lot of the times, when the kids go home it’s the parents or guardians of the kids who are completely undoing everything. It’s though they understand that there is a problem, and they send their child to our school because they want their child’s behavior to improve, yet they lack the capability to follow through with the plans set up. In the end, I sometimes believe that they are their child’s worst enemy.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I took this job for several reasons. The first was that I have a degree in education and I felt that I could finally put it to good use. The other reason, the BIG reason, is that every job I have ever had was in a customer support role because I wanted to HELP people. I thought this was great, now I have the opportunity to help some kids. But now I question who is being helped, if anyone? Is anything really going to ever change within these students? Will they ever actually live a normal life? Or are we all just fooling ourselves because in the end they will only have as much of a chance as all of the participants within their world will allow them?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The unfortunate truth is I think this job has left stripped of my disillusionment. It’s like being a child who has seen too much, and knows too much at too early an age. I ended up taking the first job offered to me, as I’m sure most of you have done when you have found yourself in this type of bind. I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing either, as I have responsibilities and people who depend on me to bring home a paycheck. The downside though to my decision is that I am making the same as I was on unemployment- the only difference is now I am a position which my physical safety has been endangered on more than one occasion. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the end of the day though, I have a job and am thankful for it. But I have learned that it does indeed take a special kind of person to be able to deal with special education children on a daily basis. Am I that type of person? I think the jury is still out on that one. But for now, it’s where I will find myself for 40 hours a week, 5 days a week.</span></span></div></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11010338738895767655noreply@blogger.com0