A KISS IS JUST A KISS... or is it?

Ah, the all-important kiss. Where would a romance novel be without it? That tender, fierce, loving, passionate, happy, angry, long-awaited, she-didn't-know-she-loved-him-till-that-kiss moment. I've read a kajillion of them; some good, some lousy... but they all serve that so-important purpose of bonding the hero and heroine, on paper, in the movies and in real life.

I've been thinking about kissing rather than snarking because a) I couldn't make up my mind about covers this morning and Klimt was just calling me, and b) because my blogfriend Missie commented on last Thursday's TT she wanted to know more about the "good kisser" I mentioned.

Well, (blush) I have a friend. I've known him for quite some time. It's a long story, but despite the attraction factor (he was cute, I'll admit it) he came on too strong at the wrong time and all I ever saw in him was a player--he'd hit on me every time he came into my work and I always felt like he just wanted to score and I so wasn't there (but when he wasn't hitting on me, he was actually a nice guy). Then there was 6 years of me with the FS, I stopped working at that job for a period of time and we fell out of touch. Then, of course, December happened, my house happened, I went back to work part time at the old job for extra money... and I wondered about him. We got back in touch, went out to lunch, and things just sort of... happened. We're not dating, we're not getting serious. We just agreed we both deserve to have some fun. Including kissing. And more kissing. And more stuff.

And man, can he kiss. I haven't been kissed like this in over 10 years. He's one of those long, slow kissers that lock on and don't stop until you're breathless. Ooh. Oh dear. I'm getting breathless just thinking about it. I'd better take a cold shower.

Happy Monday!

THIRTEEN "IF ONLIES"

Thanks to Rhonda, I got an idea for this morning's TT. She's got a post over on her Fictionistas site that talks about "If I only knew then...". Ahh, hindsight is always 20-20, and even if we did know, would we really have done differently? It's a muddle folks, but it's fun to wonder(not worrying, just wondering...).

1. If I'd known at 18 that at 41 I would not only not be a published author but not writing at all I would have told all my naysayers to f*** off and pushed myself to that goal. (Don't fret; I haven't completely given up yet.)
2. If I'd known at 31 that I would want another child at 38, I would not have gotten my tubes tied.
3. If I'd known at 22 how much I loved working in a library, I would have gone on for my MLS right there instead of waiting almost 20 years.
4. If I'd known in my teens that I would know myself more fabulous in my forties, I would not have been so worried about the stupid stuff.
5. If I'd known that damned walnut tree was going to permanently scar me, I would have listened to my dad and not climbed it!
6. If I'd known how many opportunities I would miss, I would have started being braver sooner.
7. If I'd known that skin gets more sensitive as one gets older I would avoid situations in which I might wind up with a hickey about the size and shape of Illinois. Yes, right there in front where it's almost impossible to hide. (Don't get me wrong, I totally enjoyed myself--I'm just sayin', lesson learned!)
8. If I'd known how quickly Son would grow up, I'd have invented a time machine or something so I could go back to about age 3 and rock him, hold his hand, and just snuggle up with him every once in a while.
9. If I'd known that trying to "get along" and please everybody all the time would get me exactly nowhere... I think I would have tried to put myself first more often.
10. If I'd known at 33 that a certain alpha guy who wouldn't stop hitting on me was a fabulous kisser (among other things) I don't think I would have waited until 41 to get to know him better.
11. If I'd known what a nightmare my first real boyfriend would turn out to be, I would have avoided him like the plague.
12. If I'd known how much I'd forget over the years, I'd have tried harder to remember--journals, scrapbooks, etc...
13. If I'd known how much fun midlife could be, I'd have been 41 first!!

Time to share--give me an "if only" or two!

MY KINGDOM FOR A FENCE (rant on)

Okay, what is it about "Private Property" that people just don't get?

My property, unfortunately, has been a neighborhood cut-through for eons. The last owner was probably too old to do anything about it after a while and likely the kids just ran amok. When I first moved in they cut through my back yard--on foot, on their bikes--to get back and forth to school. Yeah, like they owned the fricking place.

So then mean new lady (that's me, folks!) moves in, plants bushes across the back yard and asks the neighborhood kids, very nicely, to please walk around the garage--and to please not ride bikes through. For the most part, the kids in my 'hood have been accomodating. I've only had to speak to a couple of them, and things have been okay.

So I wanted my property back for the summer. My Private Property. After all, the weather is lovely, the sun is out, and folks sure as hell don't need to be cutting through my yard to get anywhere. I roped off my "path" and put a simple Closed for Summer sign on there.

And this evening the rope was down, the sign was torn to shreds and flung all over the place. Nice, huh?

I'm trying hard not to get REALLY ANGRY about all this. I'm trying to be reasonable. I honestly don't think the kids directly around me would be so disrespectful; I believe the culprits are kids from outside my little 'hood who come in to visit.

I can't afford a fence right now--a decent one would cost a pile that I just don't have. I don't want to turn into nasty crabby neighbor lady and have everyone hate me. On the other hand, I'm no doormat either and those little f***ers are pissing me off. I've thought of all sorts of Dr. Evil-type plans, but I'll never go through with them because I never get away with anything.

So here I am, ranting online because that's all I can do. Oh--and if any of youall wins the lottery or anything this week and wouldn't mind floating me a portion towards the StarvingWriteNow Fence Fund, I'd be ever so grateful. I'll even inscribe your name on a board!

Okay, rant off.

DON'T JUDGE A COVER BY ITS TITLE

(a.k.a., couldn't they think of anything better than that?)

I didn't realize night had a dark side. Night IS dark, right? Or am I missing something?
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Dude, turn around! She's right behind you!

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I know, this title just asks for it! My thoughts? Just that I'm staying UP wind of Daniel Boone here...
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Happy Monday!
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THIRTEEN PARTY THOUGHTS
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Aren't parties great? People mingling, good cheer flowing... the occasional interruption by the police... Seriously, I'm going to a party this evening and naturally, my TT thoughts have turned to parties in general.
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1. Believe it or not, I prefer hosting parties over attending. This surprises even me because I'm not really a take-charge type by nature. But I love planning, cooking, decorating... all that stuff.

2. Favorite parties? Christmas parties. This is pretty much the only time of year that my house is all decked out and I always have the urge to show it off.

3. Speaking of Christmas, I just heard recently about a new trend: Ugly Christmas Sweater Parties. Oh yes. I think I shall have one this year.

4. College parties always made me nervous. I was (and still am on occasion) a little shy in large groups and being in large groups of drunk horny 20-somethings just put me off.

5. My ex-husband and I threw probably the best housewarming party ever--for ourselves. We lived in a little log cabin in the country and invited friends, family, neighbors... It was a seriously good time--in fact, the ex said that when he died, he wanted me to throw him a party exactly like that one: "Just plunk my ashes down next to the Weber!"

6. "A party's not a party 'til the cops show up." The first year I lived with FS, we threw a heck of a holiday party. Things were in full swing when, ding-dong! Our neighbor (the nutty one) had called the cops because someone had parked on the street. It was the end of the world, to be sure--but we were afterwards heralded as "awesome" party givers.

7. My first party memory was my brother's graduation from high school. It also served as a family reunion since everybody showed up. My dad turned the garage into a bar. It was cool.

8. I never had a birthday party as a child. Birthdays were private family occasions. When I turned 40, the girls at work decked out our office to celebrate. It was so sweet. I just love them all.

9. I think one of the worst parties I ever attended was a kid's birthday at McDonald's. So. Loud. By the end of it all the kids had cried at least once. It was awful.

10. I threw my son a birthday party when he was in Kindergarten. We gave invitations to the whole class, 8 people RSVP'ed, and 16 kids showed up. Can anyone say chaos?

11. Oh, and then there was the bonfire party at my girlfriend's house where my ex showed up in the back of a police car. What a way to make an impression!

12. Then there was the time we had a cookout and the ex wanted to light the bonfire--due to the various chemicals that had been poured on, we had a wall of flame about two stories high for a good five minutes.

13. I think my least-liked parties are the tupperware-tyes, where you feel like you have to buy something. BTW, that's the kind of party I'm attending tonight. (But I'm assured of cocktails and appetizers, so I think I can handle it.)

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Okay, your turn: share some party thoughts/memories with me!

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A PARTING SHOT

So I have a lovely, sexy phone conversation with G last night and not five minutes after I hang up there's a knock at the door.

Well, what do you know. It's the FS. He has mail for me, Son's report card, etc. This man obviously has never heard the "call before you come" rule. Anyhow, he tells me I look good(I have lost weight and toned up some), we make some conversation, I am polite of course, and then as he's leaving:

He: You look good.

Me: Of course I do. I could weigh 200 pounds and I'd still look good.

He gets into his little yellow midlife crisis. And:

Me: You remember how when we were first dating you used to tease that all the guys in Huron(my old residence) must be blind?

He: Yes.

Me: Guess who's the real blind guy?

~zing!~

Oh, yessss. Man, that felt good!!

Happy Tuesday, all.

MY DREAM MAN (the rough & ready version)

In lieu of a romance cover on Monday, I decided this little song would suffice.



PS: In other news, I got lucky on Friday. (I feel so much better now--thanks to G--who should be gloating, and deservedly so, since I think I told him once (or 2000 times) I'd never go out with him)

THIRTEEN THINGS I'VE LEARNED IN THE PAST SIX MONTHS
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Yes, dearest friends in blogland, the day has come. Today marks six months since my breakup. I've been contemplating things, deciding, changing my mind, overthinking (read yesterday's post below) and learning much about myself and life and the world in general.
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1. I've learned that the end of the road isn't the end of the world. It's just the end of the road. You need only open your eyes and look around yourself to find a new path.

2. I've learned it is physically possible to cry for a solid hour and still be able to produce more tears.

3. I've learned it is unwise to deny your true nature; misery inevitably follows in some fashion.

4. I've learned that expectations can quickly become misleading and tiresome.

5. I've learned that support from family and friends is invaluable, a precious gift to treasure.

6. I've learned that men are a pesky, unstable bunch; more sensitive and frail, more cold and callous than we "mere" women. Unfortunately, since my personal tastes run in that direction, I'll probably take up with another one. Someday.

7. I've learned it is possible to survive without sex. It's not as much fun, but it's possible.

8. I've learned that I'm better at living alone. Does this mean that down the road when I meet some fab guy I won't be tempted to cohabit again? Decisions, decisions...

9. I've learned that I prefer truth (steel) to honesty (silly putty).

10. I've learned not to put too much stock in appearances.

11. I've learned that overthinking (one skill I excel at; read below) doesn't really do anything but stress you out more.

12. I've learned that I must accept certain tenets in order to restore peace to myself. Chief among these is that I will never know what really happened--the FS was lying to himself long before he met me; I don't believe he even could say for certain what happened.

13. I've learned that despite grief the sun rises and sets like always, that life goes on within you and without you. That even though the heartbreak is still there, the pain is starting, ever so slowly, to recede. That at the end of it all, I'll be okay.

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THINK, THINK, THINK...

(a long and rambling post--please refill your beverages and take your bathroom breaks before you begin reading)

I'm one of those lucky types that thinks too much. I'll give you an example:

About a week before Memorial Day, I sent a card to an acquaintance of mine. A male acquaintance (let's call him MA) who just happens to also be an acquaintance of my FS, and who just happens to sail out of the same marina as the FS.

The reason I sent the card was simple: I miss sailing and I wanted to know if MA would take me out once this summer. He takes lots of his friends/acquaintances/associates out, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.

Now, understand that I was raised by Depression-era, stiff-upper-lip, socially strict parents who had sayings for just about every situation. Add a heaping tablespoon of Catholic on top and the astrological mixed blessing of being a Pisces and *presto*! You get a Manners-Conscious Guilt-Ridden Second-Guessing Highly Imaginative Worrywart (but quite charming, so I've been told).

One particular stricture that was hammered into my brain from the cradle was: "Ladies do not pursue gentlemen." Probably my mother despaired of me ever turning out right; I was quite the tomboy and had far more boy friends than girls. (And I'm sure it didn't help that she hit menopause full-on during my teen years.)

So, back to the point--I really miss sailing. MA is the only other person I know besides FS who sails, and he has always been a likeable sort, so I figure I'll contact him. I don't have his phone # but I do have an address, so I decide I'll write to him.

Think, think, think...

Oh, agony. The card has to be friendly but not too friendly, because I don't want him to think I'm coming on to him although he is kinda cute but he's friends with the ex so that might be kinda weird and I don't think he ever thought about me like that; and don't make it too formal, but not too casual because I'm not a complete ditz and I have to make sure I tell him it's okay if he doesn't want to take me out because I can totally understand how awkward it might be but I really need to convey how much I like to sail and how appreciative I would be for a chance to go but I don't want to beg, or seem like I'm just in it to get laid or something because Ladies do not pursue gentlemen and I don't want him to think I'm some kind of a hussy.

It took me days to configure that stupid card to say what I wanted to say without saying the wrong thing. So I dig up MA's address and send the card. And wait. And wait.

Think, think, think...

Okay, he must have gotten the card by now and he's not hopping right on the phone or stopping by the house or writing back so maybe he doesn't think it's a good idea after all or maybe he's totally embarrassed by me or maybe he's really one of those guys that just never communicates or maybe he didn't get the card at all or maybe he told the FS and they're having a good yuk at my expense right now...

So a good ten days go by and I've settled to the idea that he just didn't want to get involved. I'm moving along, doing my thing, etc.

And then I get out of work the next Friday, turn my cell phone back on (because I have to turn it off at work) and what do you know? There's a message from MA apologizing very nicely for his tardiness and saying sure, he'll take me sailing this summer. He rambled away at my voicemail for almost a whole minute, he sounded very pleased about the idea... and I sensed he was also nervous. I know, there's that whole Code of Behavior thing amongst men, and some guys do get a bit anxious when women take the lead. But being the MCGRSGHIW that I am, and considering that I have no real way (aside from another card/letter) to get back in touch with him because I don't have his number because I have to turn my cell phone off at work, and considering I have not heard from him since then, well...

Think, think, think...

Okay, maybe he changed his mind or I came on too strong even though I didn't think I did or maybe he does like me like that and he's currently flipping out but no I'm sure he doesn't because wouldn't I have sensed that at some point or maybe he's one of those guys that doesn't ever plan ahead and a month from now he'll call me at the last fricking minute to go and I'll already have something planned so I won't be able to go or maybe he's waiting for me to call him but I can't because I don't have his stupid phone number and I don't want to write him again or be a pest because after all, Ladies do not pursue gentlemen and...

You get the idea. I just love being me.

(and if he ever calls back, I'll let youall know. I'm sure you're just hanging on the edges of your seats!)

IN A WORD...

...EEUUWWW!

(Is eeuuwww a word? 'Cause that's all I got here.)

Happy Monday!

THIRTEEN SUMMER CAR TRIP SHENANIGANS
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Oh, yes... school's out for summer starting today! It's time for fun, sun and... road trips! That all-American institution designed to kill kids from boredom and parents from insanity with the same four words: Are We There Yet?? Below is my list of remembered Car Trippiness:
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1. The Station Wagon. We had one of those giant, wood-paneled Country Squires with the big bench seats up front and two little rumble seats in the far back. That baby could haul 7 people, enough luggage for a trip to the moon, a gigantic cooler AND my Barbie collection with room to spare!

2. Personal space. My sibs and I absolutely COULD NOT be touching one another.

3. Games. The license plate game was tops, followed by I Saw It First--road signs, mileage posts, whatever... the whole purpose was to see it before anyone else did. And, when all else failed, we'd spot roadkill and do impressions. (yes, we were little ghouls)

4. Reading. My brother was the only one who could do this, for hours on end, while we were driving. The rest of us didn't dare because of #5:

5. Getting car sick. My tummy was pretty solid unless I started staring down at the road lines or something. My middle sister was Carsick Queen and I never wanted to sit next to her.

6. Sleeping. One trip I figured out I could make a sort of head sling out of the shoulder strap and I was in nap heaven. Unfortunately, I could never make it work again after that.

7. "She's looking at me!" After about three hours in the car. Too much of this signalled time to stop for a break.

8. Getting lost. This didn't happen often because Dad had Rand McNally imprinted on his brain. However, there were some memorable occasions, accompanied by a cuss or two and a "Well, how the hell should I know where we are?" from the front seat.

9. Roadside lunches. I believe my family holds the dubious honor of having picnicked in nearly every rest area in New York State.

10. Shortcuts. Dad loved his shortcuts. Of course, they usually turned into...

11. The Scenic Route. You want a 30 minute drive to turn into a 4 hour excursion? Just leave it to dad!

12. Traffic Jams. Granted, we were usually on the Scenic Route so we missed most of this, but any kind of jam would immediately spawn sweating, squabbling and smacking in the back seat because we had...

13. No Air Conditioning. In the middle of July, rolling down the windows only lets more heat in!

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What's your favorite memory of car trips? Share!

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HMMM...

I'm not sure exactly what it is about this cover. Maybe it's the white getup with the pointy hat that makes me think lover boy here is late for his local Klan meeting. Maybe it's his shield that reminds me of a big button. Maybe it's how seriously unhappy that horse looks to be cover modeling(my dog looks the exact same way when I'm about to pill him or clean his ears). Either way, this just doesn't say "life altering romance contained within" to me. What do you think?

PS: A big "thanks" to Robyn for her great guest blogging idea of last week. I had lots of fun, and hopefully we can mix up some more great bad covers down the road!

Happy Monday!