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Accountability

When I sort of accidentally began this journey, accountability was a big thing for me. I talked about it. Owned it. Showed it. Through daily full body Instagram photos, I am holding myself accountable to myself and to (I’d like to think) the world for my fitness and health, whether I do or don’t meet my goals for that day, week or whatever.

Just recently, I’ve begun adding food pics to the mix, which I had been doing from time to time before, but that’s when I was flaky about it all and could easily have had a salad for lunch and fried chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. You’d see the pretty picture of the salad, but you wouldn’t see and I wouldn’t speak of the fried chicken.

I guess it’s like the proverbial tree in the forest. If I eat it and no one’s around to witness it, does that mean it didn’t happen? Well, I knew that couldn’t last because even if I didn’t post pictures of every meal, I repeat, I post full body shots of myself every single day, so you would know something went awry, somewhere. I wouldn’t be telling the truth. I wouldn’t be telling my truth. And there are many parts to my truth.

The truth is, if this were five days ago, I’d have either a vodka cranberry or a glass of wine in my hand. And if I’m going to tell the truth, five days ago, I DID have a vodka cranberry in my hand, and followed it up with several more. And let’s just throw a couple of shots of tequila in there for sport, because that happened, too.

Also, a hangover happened, and though I’ve posted a vicious hangover selfie on Instagram, I made sure I got myself together before I posted my daily shot, and I still went walking/jogging.

I haven’t had a drink since Sunday and that’s in part because I’ve been thinking a lot about this accountability thing and also because a friend challenged me to a strict seven day fitness thingy that doesn’t allow for alcohol.

It’s been easy. Unbelievably easy until today, when my day wasn’t so good, when my relationship isn’t glowing that perfect glow, when I’m so annoyed/pissed/mad/sad that I just want to numb myself with a vodka neat or a whole bottle of wine. And yes, I can take down a whole bottle…and a half.

So, far I’m resisting. Sipping iced water and channeling this negative energy into new words and promoting Can’t Get Enough. And I think I’m able to resist mostly out of stubbornness and a small part of me thinks it may be an around about attempt at sabotage because my husband of course lives with me, knows my habits, my weaknesses and unfortunately, my triggers.

It’s good to get that off my chest. I’ll let  you know how it turns out tomorrow. Honestly.

Easy like…

vodka

…feel free to take it from there, but let me tell you, nothing about this Sunday is easy, not for me anyway. I knew it had been a few days since I updated here, but a whole week?! Wow, I had no idea. And in the meantime, so many readers, blogger and reviewers were happily participating in the Can’t Get Enough blog tour, including the Trollop With A Laptop herself, Alison Tyler, who posted this colorful interview with me on her blog yesterday, while I was busy shuttling the twin to the sitter, driving to a book signing…

booksa

…signing one (tee hee) book and driving back, picking up twins, picking up dinner then coming home where it began storming and the power went out.

And that was just yesterday. Today I planned to stay in bed all day and rest because I was bold, no foolish enough to wear heels yesterday, and apparently I must atone for that today. However, instead of resting and recovering peacefully, I’m having to deal with the difficult tenant I’ve been avoiding mentioning to much over the past year (because I’m such a fucking lady) because after avoiding being served with a notice of eviction, she finally got served, then tells me that she needs more than ten days. Not because she doesn’t have anywhere to go, mind you, but because she doesn’t feel like moving her stuff.

Really, she doesn’t feel like it? Well, you know what I don’t feel like? Paying mortgage on a home that I’m not living in and not being reimbursed for it and having it torn all to hell to boot. So, yeah, that’s going on right now, but I’m trying to put my energy elsewhere.

Like this creative spurt I’m going through right now. While the power was out yesterday evening, I entertained my husband by reading him the beginnings of some things I’m working on. One story is a comedy in addition to being erotic, and the first paragraph made him laugh out loud. That was cool.

But speaking of Alison Tyler, one of several things I did on Friday (indcluding having tires changed, ugh!) was visit the Atlanta bookstore Charis Books where I spotted her Dark Secret Love on display on the shelf. I couldn’t resist snapping this picture and tweeting and tagging her.

darksecret

She wrote about it on her blog today.

I know this is a super long post, but I had a lot of catching up to do. I haven’t even mentioned that Rose Caraway announced the winners of her give away on Friday! And she did it in such a unique and clever way!

Thanks, Rose, thank everyone, and thanks if you made it through this post!

I’m Coming Out

Luckily, I’ve been too busy online promoting the book to think about upcoming face to face promotion. And to fret about it, which kind of blows because the stress weight loss would have done me good.

Anyway, here it is, where it all begins. I have two readings/meet and greets/signings this week alone.

And for the first time it’s occurred t i me that for ten + years I’ve been in hiding, well, not exactly hiding, but not promoting other than online,

online, and in other people’s books where showing my face wasn’t a requirement.

And I’m excited, I really am. Interacting, reading, signing. Easy peasy. You’ll find that after a cocktail or two I’m a real people person.

But what to wear? What about my hair? What if I’m not what everyone expected?

I guess it’s the literary equivalent to stage fright, and something I’ll have to get over rather quickly because in three days I’ll have my first appearance.

I joked about practicing my signature, and I really should have because my handwriting is rather shitty.

And reading, I haven’t selected a story and haven’t read anything a loud since before my kids could read themselves.

Damn… ill prepared much?

Either way, see you (and me) there.

 

“Can’t Get Enough” is featured on Sex In Words!

Today’s stop on the Can’t Get Enough blog tour brings us to Sex In Words where the editor of Best Sex Writing 2015, Jon Pressick gives a nice little write up and a hot as fire excerpt from Medea Mor.

It would behoove you to skip on over there and check it out (and maybe I’m just a little biased).

I think this particular excerpt is the epitome of what Can’t Get Enough is all about, and what I strived for it to be.

You can get there from here.

Change and stuff.

We’ve been in our new home in our new state now for five + months. My lips want to form the words “I couldn’t be happier” because that’s mostly my answer when people from back home ask how I’m doing, how I like it, how we’re all transitioning. And honestly, I am happy, very. We live in a nice, quiet neighborhood, the twins attend a wonderful school where they are thriving, and the hubby has seen immense change from his old facility to the one he’s at now.

And I have gone from being a mom, wife and writer who also worked full time to only being responsible for shuttling the kids school and activities and well, taking care of home and stuff, and of course, writing. It was the dream. It was what I always wanted and never thought I could have and now that I have it, I guess it just feels unbelievable.

For one, there’s the self-inflicted guilt that not only am I not generating any income, I’m also not taking full advantage of the many hours I have to myself. I’m doing better about it now. I’m actually writing a novel. I know, I’m always writing a novel, but this is the most dedicated I have ever been to it and I have an actual outline that I’m following. I’ve never done that before, now have I?

Also, the release date for Can’t Get Enough will be here before I know it (July 14, 2014, if you didn’t know) and I’ve got to step up my promotion game. Transitioning from just writing to writing and also editing, that extra responsibility is pretty new to me, but it is very necessary if I want this book to be a success and if I want publishers to want me to edit for them again.

I will be blogging more frequently (famous last words, eh?), here and also over at Can’t Get Enough’s blog. There are some short story calls that I’ve started stories for and I want/need to finish. I just want to be a more dedicated writer, a better me, and that itself will take more change than the big move ever did.

It’s time…

…that I said something, did something, finally after what… a month or so…let my own words appear on my own blog. I’ll admit, I’ve gotten a little comfy in my new life. My only responsibilities being to wake up, get the husband and kids off to work and school, cook meals, and keep the house in some sort of order. And, now that we’ve been in our new place for nearly three months, daily maintenance takes maybe an hour.

No reason I should be napping, or watching every show known to man on demand. No reason I should have stacked all my notebooks in the closet where they wouldn’t be sitting there mocking me, reminding me that I haven’t completed a story, a blog, an essay, nothing since I’ve been here.

I feel pretty bad about that. Which reminds me, I also feel bad. I’m in the midst of a Lyme flare up and just for shits and giggles, depression decided to pull up a chair as well.

These shouldn’t be excuses. And when I think about the fact that I could have written a whole novel during the time I’ve been sitting here napping, watching t.v. and drinking beer, I want to well…crawl under the covers, watch t.v. and have a beer.

But enough of that.

I’m at the writing table right now, typing these words. I’m reminding myself that I have a book coming out next July, an actual book with my name on the cover which is hold in my hands proof that writing is what I do, or at least have been doing, and damn it, I need to get back at it.
cant

So…here goes.

Instinct

tummy

This was a telling tweet. But I sent it out as I send most tweets, light heartedly, once it’s gone, it’s forgotten. Yes, it had started with a tummy ache, which with kids, is just another day at the office for a parent. I rubbed it, hugged him to make it all better and watched him sleep.

Then he couldn’t make it through the day in school the next day, and began to lose his appetite. And when the low grade fever appeared I figured was a stomach big than would just have to run his course.

But my boy who normally runs everywhere he goes couldn’t stand up straight. He walked hunched over and moaned in pain. He lay in my bed while I put up groceries, and then he let out a scream I will never forget. I dropped everything and drove him to the first hospital I could find, his twin sister in tow.

After six hours of labs, scans and tests, he was diagnosed with the one thing that I had pushed to the back oft mind as one of my outrageous hypochondriacal fears. It was his appendix, and it was ruptured.

It was the first time I felt the weight of being away from family and friends. The first time that I realized that my mom was now more than three hours away as opposed to just around the corner.

But mostly I realized that for two days I had dismissed my son’s pain as something far less serious than it was.

Not that I or anyone could have predicted or prevented it, but still, there’s that old mommy guilt. There’s the what ifs and the woulda, coulda, shouldas.

So today here we are, an emergency surgery later, on day six at the Children’s Hospital. He’s much better than he was before, but not well enough to go home.

I’m trying to make the best of it. Caring for him and reading and writing and keeping my fingers crossed that I can take him home soon.

And I guess that’s it. All I can say and all I can do. I appreciate the well wishes.