Sneak Peak of my Mystery Novel: Someday I'll finish and you can read the whole thing!!

I began a novel during National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) last November. It's the first book of a cozy mystery series, and my goal is to have it available on Amazon sometime this Spring. In order to make myself keep writing, I need a bit of harassment, so I'm asking you all to hold me accountable.  Here is the first chapter of the novel. Enjoy!...

Chapter 1 (of the Annie Zimmerman Mystery Series)

I sat at the foot of my late Aunt Edna’s wrought iron bed with the remnants of my beef and broccoli, chewing on my plastic fork, and beating a rhythm on the bed frame. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had decided to treat myself earlier and had called up Wok With Me, a local Chinese delivery place to order takeout. The delivery boy was the first person I had seen all day and I may have scared him a bit with my mindless chatter. I’m pretty sure he thought I was hitting on him. Could have been because I asked him if he wanted to come in…

I remember standing at the doorway with my hair yanked up on the top of my head in an unflattering bun, wearing a sweatshirt with the neckline torn out…very eighties-throw-back style…and Hello Kitty slippers. (Don’t judge me. They were a present from my well-meaning mother... I swear.) I was feeling a bit sleepy from the Benedryl I had taken earlier to help curb the sneezing from all of the dust I had kicked up in the packing process, and I think I may have said “Hey, you want some?” while holding up the take-out bag, which would have been fine, but my eyes were watering and I’m pretty sure he thought I was winking at him. I could see the discomfort in his face, which of course, made me uncomfortable, always a dangerous emotion for my communication abilities. I tried to back-track. “No, I was just looking for company…” This was not better. The tearing got worse and not I probably looked as if I were crying. I tried again. “It’s just that I’m new in town,” I stammered as he fled to his beat-up delivery car. It was embarrassing, and I couldn’t help but hope that he was to uncomfortable to share this story with anyone in town.

Who doesn't want to hear my opinion? ...Possibly the cashier at the Fresh Market.

I have realized that I am in the wrong profession. Sure, teaching kids is noble and rewarding (less if your "kids" are between 18 & 20 and occassionally hit on you in the middle of a lesson), but I have come to discover that teaching may not be my true calling. What is, you ask? Sales.

Seriously, I should be selling stuff. When I like a product, I talk about it endlessly (just ask the Hubs who is tired of conversations about my fabulous shoes and my new favorite nail polish or hair product).

Today, I provided free adversing for the Honey Crisp Apple.

 Growing up in Western New York made me an apple snob. Every fall, we'd climb in the car and drive for an hour and a half to go apple picking in Victor, New York. We'd hop on a wagon pulled by a tractor and drive back into the trees. We ate apples straight from the branch (because we had to compare the product to choose our favorite). We usually bought so many apples that we'd have them straight through the winter.

In NY, apples are crisp. The skin practically pops when you sink your teeth in, and the fruit is juicy and crunchy. In  Georgia, this is not the case. Here, the skin gives as if it's been sitting too long. It's tough and stalky tasting. The apple is mealy and has lost its tart, snappy crunch. The juices have mellowed into a disappointing soft sweetness. Georgia apples are no good for apple crisp or homemade applesauce. Or so I thought...

But a year ago, I discovered the Honey Crisp apple at the local Fresh Market grocery store. Honey Crisps could have been picked in New York. They make me unnaturally happy. I may occassionally bust out a jig in the middle of the grocery store. The Hubs may point out that my very excited voice tends to carry through the store and that people might be staring. My celebration might look something like this:

Only I'd be rolling around, or rubbing the apple skin against my cheek in a creepily sensual way.

When I went to get more flavored coffee this morning, the Fresh Market had Honey Crisps. It was officially fall in my eyes. And when I went to the cash register, the cashier made the mistake of commenting in my apples. The conversation went a little something like this:

Cashier (who was extremely short, by the way): Everyone is buying these today!

Me: Have you had them? They're amazing.

Cashier: No, I'll have to try them.

(At this point, I'm pretty sure she thought the conversation was over....it was soooo not!)

Me: No really, they are the best apples you can get in Georgia. I grew up in New York, and I used to pick apples every fall. The apples there are so much better than anything you can get here.

Cashier: Really...(feigning interest. At this point the couple in their fifties standing behind in line me started looking uncomfortable.)

Me: The Honey Crisps are the closest thing to the apples you get in New York. They're the only ones I will eat down here. (Then I turned to the couple.) Have you had them?

(The wife looked nervous, and the husband looked at the apples they had picked up.)

Husband: Uh...yeah...(he looked at his wife weirdly. He must have thought I was judging him for buying cheap apples).

Me: They're great, right?? (The cashier handed me my receipt)

He muttered something that sounded like it could have been agreement.

Me: They're just so crips and fresh!

It his point I was still talking to the cashier, but she was now ignoring me and greeting the couple behind me. The wife had turned her back to me and I stood there, collecting my bags and feeling unappreciated.

Me: Ok, have a good day!

Them: no response at all!!!!!!

This is what I wanted to do to them:

Who throws an apple? I do, bitches. Take that!

I just hope they try the apples. They will not be sorry!! And I will make it my mission to sell these apples to anyone who will listen!!! (I just hope that sales don't go down because of it!

Mmmm...it's delicious, see?????

Don't Flash the Taxi Driver: A Lesson in Group Think

I recently went to Myrtle Beach  for a week-long study on group think. Ok, it was actually an all-girls trip, also known as "Meghan's Last Hurrah." The concept of the trip was that Meghan's husband wants to start having kids and may have at one point told her that "he no longer cares if it's consensual," and while he was kidding...he was serious about wanting to start a family. So, as a good college roommate, I felt it my duty to attend her last hurrah. There was a very nice condo...there were Doritos...there were t-shirts.

As the week progressed, I suddenly had an understanding of how "Girls Gone Wild" can actually happen. Group think is dangerous...especially for women. Now, I want to share my knowledge with you.

When men gather, there is often beer, sports talk, a possible strip club trip for a bachelor party.

When women gather, there is no telling what will happen.

Here is what I learned:

1. In the age of post-feminism, five women in their late twenties and early thirties will turn into men when vacationing together, and not just regular men, but extremely crass convict-types. As the week progressed, the belching and bathroom talk got progressively worse. The mild insults suddenly morphed into uncomfortable knock-offs of what you might hear in a federal penitentiary. It has been weeks and still can't stop swearing.

2. Dawson's Creek is still relevant...for Meghan and I anyway. We went to North Carolina on a pilgrimage to see where the show was filmed. No one knew much. But we did find magnets (which are now on my fridge):



See the dock? We were totally there! Stop judging me.



3. Group think will make it seem like a good idea to explain the purpose of the last hurrah to everyone who thinks you are a bachelorette party. Then drunk people may say things like..."Oh you're pregnant, congratulation!" (yeah dude, she's pregnant, buy her a shot) or "have a great baby!" (thanks lady, I will!)

4. Tourist traps are for amateurs. A seasoned group-thinker will suggest something like "we're going to the first bar on the right!" And, no one will argue. They will instead think that this is a fabulous idea. This will start to be a mantra. You may end up at the first bowling alley on the right. You probably won't know the name of it, because all you saw were the giant letters painted on a decrepit building that labeled it "Bowling Alley." You may then make friends with a bar tender and accidentally insult one of the guys in the two-man band who is telling a story that involves his dead wife. But you don't care, because you are with your fellow group thinkers who will later suggest flashing the taxi driver for a free ride home. Things may quickly spin out of control.

5. There will be clowns

Her nose was sparkly.

4. Someone will buy a hermit crab and then spend days trying to figure out how to sneak it home on a plane. She will name the crab "Myrtle" and will spend money on ridiculous hermit crab accessories. Myrtle (the crab not the beach) will become your "last hurrah" mascot.

Myrtle taking a nap with pirate in a hammock.



Myrtle's first Ultra.



This hurrah-goer will continue to send updates (Kerry...where's my latest update?)



Myrtle makes a new friend at home...the airplane sneaking was successful.



But the worst part of group think? When your kidneys and livers have recovered, suddenly you will be calling each other deciding that you should do it all again.

Cheers to Meghan's Last Hurrah!

What has group think led you to do? Share your stories!

Things I Thought While Watching Obama and Boehner

As I watched the cockfight over the downfall of the economy, I realized that I am a pathetic excuse for a conscientious American. How do I know this? Because these are the thoughts that went through my head (or erupted from my mouth until the Hubs shushed me into submission). Feel free to judge me:

No!!!!! The Bachelorette! What happened with Constantine??? Obama's always ruining my TV nights!

Man I need a new cell phone background (I then proceeded to take multiple photos of ridiculous things in my house, ending with a slightly off center photo of an owl greeting card):



whoo...whoo is actually watching this voluntarily...oh...the Hubs is...



Good thing the US doesn't have a Capital One credit card...those bastards are unforgiving! They must be republicans.

Oh...super long pause while we stare at the newscasters...don't blink, don't blink...uncomfortable.

Nice tie Boehner... must be trying to reach those young whipper-snappers with the fresh and feisty tie. Nice try Boehner, nice try. You're still an old dude, even with your yellow polka dots!

Oh! Bitchslap! Big government = bad! Here's what I REALLY want to see Boehner!!

I wonder what Obama and Boehner's love child would look like? And then I took the time to create a composite on www.morphthing.com.  Here it is:



Now that baby can pull off a green tie with yellow polka dots. What have we learned? Compromise = coolness



3 Things Guaranteed to Warp Your Child: Makes 'em Tough

Since I posted about the monkey backpack leash, I have found myself obsessed with things that can cause children long-term psychological and/or emotional trauma. Instead of working, I have spent inordinate amounts of time thinking about things that scared me as a child. And I have been painstakingly searching the internet for things that creep me out or make me giggle uncontrollably (I'm told they actually have medicine for that), and I have compiled a list for your viewing pleasure.

1.  Sing this as a lullaby (my mother actually did  sing this as a lullaby...and I usually requested it....hmm.....)

2. Fun for a little while...until they look back on their formative years...why was daddy wearing a saddle? And why did mommy like to ride too?

3.  Expecting a new brother or sister for your child? Trying to figure out how to explain where babies come from? Now you can use anatomically correct birthing dolls like these!

What can you get free on Craigslist? Oh...this!

I like to browse craigslist occassionally, just to see what kind of amazing stuff is out there to buy or barter. Today did not let me down!!

What can you get for free on craigslist? Oh....this!

Vegetarian Starter Kits! (Warner Robins, Ga)

This cool little starter kit features easy recipes like blueberry pancakes, fried "chicken", enchilada bake, chocolate mousse to die for and many more! Everyone and anyone could be vegetarian because it's that easy, especially with all of the options we have in local stores like Walmart, Kroger and Aldi. Get started on everything you need to eat right for your health, for animals and for the Earth.Shoot me an email and i'll mail you a starter kit or drop one off depending on where you are located.

Stay happy, healthy and strive for greatness!





•Location: Warner Robins, Ga

•it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Babyland General: Childhood Cabbage Patch Fantasy Meets Creepy Consumerism

As a socially conscious blogger, I feel the need to disclose certain information even if it's uncomfortable and disturbing. Today, I need to introduce you to Babyland General Hospital.

The Hubs and I met his family in north Georgia for the weekend, for some rest and relaxation. His nieces, as always when in north Georgia, wanted to make an afternoon trip to Babyland General Hospital, in Cleveland, GA. I agreed more excitedly than I probably should have because I love weird things.

For those of you who have not heard of this magical place, Babyland is where the cabbage patch kid is born. That's right, mother hill pushes out multiple babies a day from her little cabbage with a little help from some "imagicillin" and a CPD (Cabbage Patch Doctor). I have put together a little photo-journalistic collection of the experience for your viewing pleasure, in order that you might get the full experience.

Imagine this: you drive up to an immense white building on a hill. It has white columns and looks like a Gone With the Wind revival.




Not kidding...that is really Babyland General...intimidating? I feel under-dressed. 



Welcome to babyland. I will be your guide for this amazing journey into the American childhood experience!

When you enter Babyland, you make your way through the preemie ward, and various nurseries...

Overcrowding leads to unhealthy living conditions. With ten babies or more per bed, they're just asking for a Rubella epidemic. (p.s. What is Rubella?)

Um...the incubators in the back contain severed heads sprouting from cabbages...and yet none of the children are crying.

Here is a close-up

 Then you reach the center of the complex...the mecca...the hill of life from which babies are spawned:

Once here, you get to witness a "live birth." Let me break it down for you:

Everyone at Babyland is summoned over the loudspeaker to gather around the cabbage hill. It is like a cattle call of screaming and excited children and nervous-looking adults. Crystals light up suggesting that "Mother Cabbage" is in fact, ready to give birth (crystals will also change color to indicate if the cabbage is having a boy or a girl. The CPD announces that Mother Cabbage is "ten leaves dilated."The CPD gives mother a "shot of imagicillin" which hangs from the tree of life in an IV drip. This doctor then proceeds to pull a baby had first from a cabbage (glad that it is not a "branch" delivery), smack it on the bottom and then ask the children in the audience to name the baby. This results in the excessive screaming of children and ridiculous name combinations like Ebony Samantha, or Keyanna Jane. Children who did not speak up fast enough are crying. Then the doctor announces that the baby must have his/her first check-up at the nurses station, but after that Teague Benjamin will be available for adoption to one lucky child. (He does not mention that this newborn will cost $400 dollars.)

Want to get the experience for yourself? I found an amazing video on YouTube. I realize that it was filmed sideways, but it is the clearest and best video I could find to capture the weirdness:

Once the birthing is over, children run rampant through the cabbage patch store, grabbing item after item: the preemie, the newborn, the cabbage patch stroller. Parents suddenly are dropping ridiculous amounts of money on this paraphernalia. But tell me this, how could you not want to buy something to commemorate such an amazing experience? I could not resist the urge. I bought an imagicillin pen (shaped like a syringe...can't wait to take that through airport security!) and a small travel companion:

Travel chicken, meet your competition!

Meet Wilhemina! I chose the Asian doll because she had the coolest outfit...plus she was sporting a socially conscious breast cancer awareness stripe in her hair. Show you care...be aware!

Don't worry, this is not the last you will see of Wilhemina! She's bound for great adventures!!

Want you own fabulous Cabbage Patch memorabilia? Have at it!
Search Amazon.com for cabbage patch dolls