An Introvert Expounds

Holy cow, I’m tired. But in a good way. In that I-just-had-an-amazing-time-and-now-I-really-need-to-decompress-before-my-head-explodes kind of way.

For those of you who don’t follow my schedule constantly (so…most of you), Bonnie and I just returned from four days in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware (not New Jersey). It was
Women’s Fest there and I was lucky enough to be included in the events as one
of five authors who took part in readings and signings. Along with Fay Jacobs
(Queen of All Things Women’s Fest and Hostess Extraordinaire), Sally Bellerose
(as quiet as I am in a crowd, but when she speaks, everybody listens…also a
great hugger), Rabbi Andrea Myers (best storyteller on the planet and one of
the most gentle, genuine souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting), and Lynn
Ames (longtime friend and outlet shopping addict), I was treated like royalty.
I’m still adjusting to being back home where I’m not waited on or fawned over,
where I’m just…me and if I want something, I have to get it myself. Ugh.

Our collective readings were perfect in that we all write
different stuff and have different styles, so it was a really great mix that I
think the readers appreciated. Lynn read from her upcoming thriller and had
everybody on the edge of their seats. Fay cracked us all up with her anecdotes
about life. Sally’s style is more immediate, like you’re sitting right next to
the main character as she quietly tells the story. Andrea’s vignettes about
growing up in New York City and deciding not only to convert to Judaism, but to
become a Rabbi, are enlightening and hysterical at the same time. I think the
readers agreed; we sold and signed many, many books and we’re very grateful.
Thank you to everybody who took time out of their schedule to see us. We really
enjoyed ourselves.

The community in Rehoboth is surprisingly tight, yet open at
the same time. We met many residents there, were invited into their homes and
businesses, and never once felt like outsiders. They have a lot of
organizations, clubs, and ways of meeting; Bonnie and I immediately talked
about retiring there. Not too hot, not too cold, easy beach access, and a
percentage of same-sex couples that is the fourth largest in the country. All I
have to do is write that best-seller…

A main highlight for me (aside from my own readings and signings where I met some sweet and kind fans): meeting, chatting with, and dining with Colonel Grethe Cammermeyer and her partner, Diane. I admit to not knowing a whole lot about the military rules and regs aside from the whole Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell thing, but I did see the film “Serving in Silence” when it was released. Listening to the Colonel was fascinating. She didn’t say much, but she watched and listened, and I got the impression she didn’t miss a thing. When she did talk, the entire crowd around her quieted and paid rapt attention. And she’s taller than Bonnie! I can’t say that about very many women.

Suzanne Westenhoefer was another great time. Bonnie and I saw her many years ago and I honestly found her a little rough then, a bit too raunchy for me. This show, however, was absolutely hilarious. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. And I believe she sold out, which was great for Camp Rehoboth.

Fay Jacobs and her partner, Bonnie, are the salt of the earth. Funny, kind, generous, and loving, they opened their home to all of us and allowed us to be mushy all over their dogs while we missed our own. We are forever grateful and plan on visiting again very soon. Fay promised to teach me how to mix the perfect martini. Stay tuned for details on that.

The best thing for me about such gatherings is that I return home with the urgent desire to get writing. Readers invariably ask me when my next book is coming out, so I feel obligated to give them what they want. I also feel creatively energized after being around so many artistic people and I want nothing more than to get writing. So I thank authors and readers alike for unknowingly kicking me in the booty.

That being said, I need to stop writing this blog now and get my ass working on the next book…

My nephew Frankie turns 17 in two days. His party was today. It was the usual family-filled, too-much-food type of gathering my sister Marni always throws, complete with awesome pizza and incredible chicken wings (Marni and her hubby own a pizzeria). The weather has been a little crazy: 65 degrees and sunny on St. Patrick’s Day–so weird! As I sat in the backyard drinking a Diet Coke and watching the various partygoers, I was suddenly struck by how quickly time flies.

As you know, Mikki is new to our family, so I still sometimes need to give her lessons as to whose kid is whose, which grandma belongs to which aunt or uncle, which teen is a relative and which is just a neighborhood friend, and so on (because my family is huge and confusing). As I did that today, I felt a sudden, weird sensation that’s hard to describe. Sort of a combination of feeling grown up, old, proud, loved. My sister Tosca has two sons. Joseph will be nine next month (I think) and Jonathan is almost a year old. I watched her tucking Jonathan into his carriage seat so Mikki could take him for a walk and I had a sudden vision of giving her a piggy back ride when her dad and my mom first began dating. She was eleven. I was sixteen. And now she’s a mom, a really good one. I think the same thing about two of my other sisters. They both have kids. They’re both amazing mothers. I think about Marni and her teenage love of partying, her disdain for school, her 14-year-old boy sense of humor (which she still has). I think about Lauri and how we had absolutely nothing in common growing up, how we used to beat the snot out of each other (until she became a little bigger than me and could kick my ass…I think she still could). But both of them are wonderful women, terrific parents that I’m so proud of.

I was nineteen when my littlest sister Megan was born. She’s going to be twenty-five in a few weeks. Good god, how does that happen? I can still see her visiting me at college, toddling down the hall of my dorm in her little pink jacket and goofy Pebbles Flintstone hairdo that every mother inflicts on her baby daughter. Now, we have great conversations, she’s my go-to dogsitter, and she comes to me for advice. She’s an adult. I can’t figure out where the years went.

My parents are approaching seventy. What?! How is that possible?

I’ve been with Bonnie for nearly 18 years. That’s awfully close to half my life. And for god’s sake, I’m actually middle-aged.  When did that happen?

We had our Westie, Henry, for fifteen-and-a-half years. I still can’t believe he’s gone. And I’ve learned the hard way how very precious life is. If somebody had told me five years ago that in the frighteningly short span of eighteen months in 2009-2010, we’d lose Aunt Joyce, Tracey, Tony, Billy, and Henry, AND we’d be parents to Mikki, I would have told them they were smoking crack. And yet, here we are, minus all those wonderful people (and one dog), and trying our best to raise a teenage girl. It’s been such a whirlwind and I often feel like I can’t keep up. Where does the time go? Can anybody tell me?

I should be learning something from this, right? This feeling, this desire to examine and analyze the passing of time is something I should try to use in my writing; I can feel it. That’s why I do what I do, to share and put into words such life experiences. I thought about that today as I watched Tosca taking care of her son. I smiled, somewhat bittersweetly. Time is moving too quickly; I don’t like it, but it’s okay.

My family is growing up and it’s aging and that makes me lucky.

I am delighted to share one of my friends and fellow authors with all of you. Barrett is kind, funny, intelligent and so much fun to talk to. Her first novel, Damaged in Service, is receiving rave reviews and her second book in the series is soon to follow. Read on to get a taste of Barrett:

Greetings Georgia and Her people,

I am deeply honored to be hosted by one of my all-time favorite
authors. Her latest book, 96 hours, is, in my opinion, one of her
best—although, admittedly, I have not read all of them—yet.

By way of thanks, I will offer a copy of “Damaged in Service” to
one random commenter. (if you have already read it…”Defying Gravity”)

The questions we’ll both be answering are a hodgepodge without
point or purpose.

By way of explanation, I’m what is considered a ‘newbie’ my
first published manuscript “Damaged In Service” was released in July of 2011.
My second, follow-up in the series, “Defying Gravity”, will be released March
15, 2012 by my publisher affinityebooks.com.

So off we go…

What inspired you to write your first book?

I began writing somewhere around 1998 with the idea of creating
a medical mystery. I worked on it sporadically for about six years and by then
it had become an epic Cecil B. de Mille-cast of thousands-multidimensional
monster. 120,000 words, 22 characters, and least six subplots. (It’s actually
kind of a good story, and someday it may become a prequel).

What did you learn from writing Damaged in
Service?

Excellent question. I learned that I was a really good storyteller with no idea what the
‘craft of writing’ was all about. I was fortunate enough to have been schooled
by a wonderful and patient editor who taught me a good number of building
blocks—the most important of which, was understanding Point Of View. That
allowed access to the workings in my character’s head in order to see, hear,
and feel what was happening in every scene. The more time I spend with either
Zeke or Anne, the more real and multidimensional they become.

If you had the chance to do it over, what changes would you
make?

I’m not sure. Perhaps I would have revised the whole series
first before fine-tuning and submitting book one. On the other hand, if I had
not submitted it, I think I would tinker with it endlessly. At some point, I
think we have to let go of them. I would not have changed the story, of course,
but might have rearranged words, sentences, or details.

From the publication of your first manuscript to today, can
you pick three of your proudest moments?

Actually, this is a pretty funny question since my first
manuscript was actually published eight months ago and my second will be
released in a little over two weeks, but okay.

I think the first proudest was seeing the cover. Since I’m
visually oriented by nature, that was very, very tangible and thrilling.

The second proudest moment was the glorious, detailed review in The Rainbow Reader. That was the first moment that I realized that
someone out in the ether actually “got” the story and characters that I
intended.

The third moment was an email I received from a reader thanking
me for bringing the topic of posttraumatic stress disorder to light and
recognizing the damage it can do to people’s lives. It was at that moment that
I realized how powerful the written word could be and that books were more than
entertaining. They were away to connect us with one another.

What are you working on now?

I’m waiting for the final proofs for Defying Gravity. And this
weekend I pulled up the drafts of books three and book four of the Damaged
series to get my head back into the story and the arc of the four books. Although
I am not a plotter, the storyline is very clear in my head for the series and
for each book.

I’m toying with a short story about Zeke at the beginning of her
career. By doing that, I hope to learn more about the enthusiastic young woman
just starting a career in a heavily male dominated organization. I’d also like
to learn more about her first relationship, wouldn’t you?

What kind of relationship do you have with you main character?
How did it evolve and was it difficult or did it form easily?

These two questions belong together. Let me start by saying,
I’ve cobbled together about nine manuscripts, eight of which contain strong
romantic elements. Four of those books center on Zeke Cabot and Anne Reynolds.
Of all of the characters, Zeke Cabot has been the most challenging—bar none. On
the surface, she’s an attractive, capable, professional, and engaging young
woman. (that’s where easy ends.)

Because of her job, her undercover assignments, her head injury,
her PTSD, and some old stuff with her father, Zeke is pretty closed off.
Remember, I’ve been working with this character for almost 14 years and I can
honestly say there are still parts of her I don’t understand. She is about as
complex a human being as I’ve ever met. I say that with the confidence of someone
who has served as a medical professional for 35 years. Zeke is a tough nut to
crack. As a character, she is engaging and highly functional. She is a private
person, needs to control, highly intelligent, and a polite, gracious southern
woman. And she carries a gun. All the time. I can’t say more, you’ll need to
read about it. Plus, I don’t have all the answers—yet.

What do you find challenging about writing?

Hmm. I. Love. To. Write. It’s
one of the reasons that I participate in NaNoWriMo every year. I write better
with accountability. When I know I have to produce 1669 words a day—I do it. If
I have a deadline—I do it. Unlike many writers, I do not have distractions or
other obligations. I can write whenever I want to and I do. But that much time
and freedom also means that I can fritter away hours a day and still get a lot
of writing done.

Additionally, the reason I set out to publish was to improve my
writing. I want to be a better writer and the more I write the more I learn.

Is there anything specific you’d like to ask your readers?

I am curious about some reader’s general reluctance to provide
feedback. (I know Georgia did if a blog about writing letters to authors a
while back.) As a new writer, I have found reader feedback to be amazingly
helpful—both positive and negative.

I never used to comment on books or articles I’ve read, but I’ve
tried to do it now because I realize how important it is. I would like to know
the kinds of stories readers would like to hear are there interesting
characters or storylines that have not been addressed. I’ll be attending the
Golden Crown Literary Society convention in Minneapolis this summer and would
love to see a panel or open discussion or readers could provide feedback to
authors.

Okay, I’ve said more than enough, but would like to
thank Georgia for the opportunity to share her spotlight. And although I made
mention in the acknowledgements of my book, I would like to thank
Georgia for being one of the very first to encourage and support me when I
decided to follow my dream.

Planning a wedding is a seriously stressful event. Seriously stressful. Holy crap. Location, food, attire, rings, flowers, cake, procedure, guest list. And we haven’t even gotten to the money yet.

Eegads, the money. Did I say, “Holy crap?”

I was feeling the pressure and I think Bonnie was, too. I was doing much of the planning on my own, using my mother and sisters as wedding gurus. We’d visited and decided on a venue and placed a deposit down to reserve our date of September 22. We’d picked out rings we liked that we could incorporate into the rings we already wear (Bonnie’s request). The guest list was pretty close to final at a little under 200 people (gulp!). Mom was in charge of flowers and the Italian cookie cake. Sister Lauri was helping find a dress and keeping the binder (the Wedding Bible, as I called it) with lists of everything that needed to be done and when. Dad put the deposit on the venue and was ready to help with the open bar. We’d found a judge to perform the ceremony. The stress was mounting, but we were hanging in there. Barely.

And then it all came to a screeching halt.

I’m still not quite sure why, what pulled on my brakes. My enthusiasm began to wane as my stress increased. Bonnie seemed to be participating from the sidelines (of course, I knew we were doing this mostly for me…she’d be perfectly happy skipping down to the courthouse and signing a piece of paper, so all the tradition was my request). I started to procrastinate even more than I usually do. Lauri kept trying to set up times to meet with me and I continually ignored her texts. I got a weird feeling in my gut and for a while, I wondered if there was something else going on with us, if we shouldn’t be getting married at all (after 17 years??? Come on…!). I started to panic. Quietly, but panic just the same.

Finally, one night Bonnie and I were sitting in the living room. Mikki was at practice. Out of the blue, I turned to Bon and blurted, “What if we grabbed my mom and dad and stepdad, my sisters, your sister and nieces, Mikki, Steff, Jackie and Julie and a handful of others, went down to the courthouse, and got married there?” Then I held my breath.

Bonnie’s instant response: “Oh, my god, I would love that!”  Me: “Yeah?” Her: “Yes! Could we do it on June 12?” (which will be our 18th anniversary) Me: “Why not?”

And just like that, it was better. I finally knew what the problem was. Everything was just too much. Too much stress, too much money, too much pressure, too many decisions, just too, too much. A weight seemed to immediately lift off both of us and we felt lighter and more relaxed than we had in months.

We’ve since done a little tweaking, but it’s been in tandem, very much a partnership. We want to get married here at our own house, hopefully in the back yard if weather permits. Yes, June 12 is a Tuesday, but it’s an important date to us, so I know the people who are able will be there. We’ll have the ceremony among a small group and send invitations to the rest that basically say, “We’re getting hitched. Come on by any time that night and have a celebratory drink with us!” We’ll have drinks and munchies (and I still want the Italian cookie cake, Mama!). And we don’t have to leave. And we don’t have to worry about the dogs. And Jackie and Julie live across the street, so guests can use their bathroom, too. And we won’t have a new anniversary date to remember. We’re still getting our rings. I’m still counting on my sister to help me find the perfect dress. The judge is coming here instead of us going to her. It’s going to be awesome.

I fly off to the GCLS the next day, so we’ve decided to honeymoon on an Olivia cruise the following February. I can’t even begin to describe how much better we feel.

I know my mother and sisters were a teeny bit disappointed, but I also think they understood. The bottom line is, it’s what works for us. And isn’t our wedding supposed to be about us?

In the Bad News Department, I’m trying to grow my hair out for my wedding and I’ve just cut my growing time down by three months. Crap…

Okay, the first thought out of the gate as I prepare to type up a new blog is this: if I got as many legitimate comments on my blogs as I do spam comments, I’d be one of the most popular women online. Wow. The Ugg Outlet really wants me to buy some boots.

I was trying to write today (working on my very first short story collection) and it’s just not happening for some reason. And Netflix is tempting me. So I promised myself if I updated my blog, I can reward myself with a movie before I have to run errands. And since I don’t have one specific thing to discuss, I thought I’d do another stream-of-consciousness blog and just say what’s on my mind regarding any given subject. It went over well the last time I was lazy and did it…

1. I don’t miss meat. I’ve been an almost-vegetarian for two weeks tomorrow, and I still haven’t had a meat craving. I also cut out most dairy (I do miss cheese) and I discovered that neither soy milk nor almond milk are bad. In fact, I kind of like them. I’ve cut out a LOT of refined sugar and I’m trying hard not to eat processed things. Big thanks to my friend, Lisa Ronquillo, for sending me guidelines and answering all my silly questions. She’s been an amazing help and I’m pretty proud of myself. I feel healthier and I think I’ve actually dropped a couple of pounds. And when Bonnie made bacon the other morning, I did not end up rocking and crying in a corner.

2. All that being said above, I am sucking in a big way at exercising on a regular basis. Oy. I’m doing things sporadically, but it needs to be more scheduled. I really need to do something about that before I become a fat blob of goo that just oozes around the house. I blame winter.

3. Yoga pants have ruined me for all other pants. I have jeans on right now, and though it’s not excruciating to wear them, they’re not nearly as comfy as my yoga pants. Which I will run upstairs and change into as soon as I finish this blog. Also, note to the people who continue to make mostly “low-waisted” jeans: most women have hips. I do. And low-waisted jeans and hips do not go together. The only thing cramming me into a pair of those does is make me look like I have a muffin top. It makes me hate you. And oftentimes, myself. Stop it. Make me a regular pair of jeans, would you? One that fits comfortably and gives me a cute ass? Am I asking for so much?

4. It’s never too late in life to make new best friends. I have a new friend who is wonderful, kind, understanding, a fellow writer, and we just click, we just get each other; I’m psyched to have her in my life (hi, Karin! *wave*). You’d think at my age, developing a precious new friendship would be difficult and time-consuming, but it’s not. It’s pretty cool. Who knew?

5. I have a love/hate relationship with winter. I like it, especially as it relates to Christmas. I think snow is beautiful and I adore the change of seasons. However, I hate being cold. I like to walk, but not when I’m freezing. I don’t enjoy walking the dogs when it’s cold; therefore, none of us is walking as much as we should be. Is it April yet?

6. Passion is an important part of life. Whether it’s passion for your job, a charity, your lover, whatever, it’s essential to a happy existence. This is something I’ve only recently begun to understand. If you have it, good for you. If you don’t, search for it. It’s there. You just have to find it.

7. Duncan has a huge bark for a little dog. Somehow, it suits him. And right now, as I type, he is running in circles around the dining room table, nipping at Finley as he runs by. Finley, standing still, barks at him at each pass. It’s adorable and annoying at the same time. I wonder which one I’ll end up killing first…

Now…what should I watch…?

Bett Norris says I don’t blog enough. She’s right (and I hate it when she’s right), so one of my goals this year is to be better about that. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I really mean it. No, really. I mean it. I swear.

How about that title? “A New Year, A New Outlook.” Is that cliche or what? But it’s true. I’m trying, trying hard, to tweak my outlook on life, even if it’s just a little bit. It won’t be easy, I know this. But I want to try. I’ve been ranting and raving lately (and if you follow this blog or my Facebook page, I’m sure you’ve heard it) about how much I hate my forties. I feel like my body is falling apart, my lady parts are starting to do weird things to my body chemistry, I weigh more than I’ve ever weighed in my life. I’m too old to be considered young and too young to be considered old. I’ve got a sixteen-year-old girl who’s now my responsibility, even though I never wanted kids. I have a puppy I was totally against (but with which I’ve fallen in love) and I mentally curse the kid and the wife every day because my life was so much easier with one dog. I work from home now and I am currently writing a short story collection that I want to finish by the end of April, but I feel like I’m dragging my feet. I’ve never felt like such a lazy slug.

That’s the majority of my Bitchfest material. What do you think? Could I be more negative? Is it possible for me to be more of a downer? Yeah, I thought so, too. And it’s not like me, believe me. I’m a pretty happy and positive person in general, so this is as unpleasant for me to feel as it is for you to read. As I was walking my dogs this morning in my dorky winter hat (I’ll have to post a picture), I got to thinking how absolutely ridiculous and ungrateful I’ve been feeling/sounding lately. I can’t believe nobody’s slapped me yet. So, let’s take those things and spin them into my new outlook. Wanna?

Yes, my forties have been rough, physically. I think they are for a lot of us girls. I’m not as active as I once was. I’m happier being home watching a movie or reading a book or cuddling on the couch with Bonnie than I used to be. I don’t get out as much because I don’t want to go out as much. And you know what? That’s okay. The bottom line is that life is short and I am healthy and I am HERE. I of all people should be painfully aware of that lesson. Life. Is. Short. We lost five loved ones in 18 months and only two of them were what we’d consider elderly. The other three were gone way before their time. I. Am. Here. That alone is something to be grateful for. So, I’m going to do my best to stop being so negative and so down on myself (negative energy is life-sucking…believe me, I have family members that I can only be around in small doses because they do nothing but complain and I do not want to be that).

First things first: I’m packing away the scale. Getting on it only depresses me and I keep reading that it’s not about the number anyway; it’s about how you feel. So, bye-bye, scale! Enjoy the bottom of the bathroom closet. Second, I’m going to do my best to take care of this body. It’s the only one I’m ever going to have and I think Bonnie would appreciate it if it was around (and healthy) for a while. So, no more meat, no more animal fat, lots of veggies and fruit, lots of whole grains, lots of water, lots of tea. And the occasional cocktail. (Come on, I’m not a saint.) Regular exercise. Lots of dog walks. I discovered recently that there’s a little-known park within walking distance of my house that has some incredible hiking trails. I’m going to hit that regularly just to be among the trees; I love trees. (I’ll post pictures next time I’m there.)

Okay, what’s next? Oh, yeah. The kid. You know what? It’s not so bad and it’s getting better every day. I think she and I are starting to get each other, mostly because we’re trying to get each other. We’re making the effort. I’ve done my best to stop raising my voice (which is what I do when I’m frustrated that she’s not hearing me) and she seems to be easing up on the snippy comments (which she makes when I raise my voice).  I think she’s starting to feel like this is home and I’m starting to feel like she’s our kid. No, we never wanted this, but neither did she, and the best thing for us all to do is make it work. Does she try my patience? Of course. But she’s sixteen; that’s her job, isn’t it?

The puppy. Duncan. He’s lucky he’s so damn cute because he’s an enormous hardhead and he’s relentless. When he wants something, he wants it and he does not give up. He exhausts me. But he’s also a cuddler, which Henry never was. And he loves his big brother, Finley. And he’s smart. If I can just be patient and keep working the methods that Laurie Salzler taught me, I think he’ll get it. This is really more about me than him. Deep breaths. That’s all I need to remember. Deep breaths, stay calm, don’t get frustrated. It’ll be okay. Plus? I love the little bastard.

The writing. It’s a part of me. It’s who I am. So feeling like I’m losing it a little sends me into a panic. But I have the collection mapped out. I know where it’s going and how. I’ve met some amazing fellow, local writers this year and Rachel Spangler lives within an easy drive, so I think I may need to connect more with women who do what I do. I’ve always sort of pooh-poohed writers groups because I’m not big on sharing my work until I’m sure I know where it’s going (and frankly, I don’t want it picked apart before I’m ready). But now, I think sitting down with like-minded women might help get the creative juices flowing and inspire me to work harder. In fact, I’m meeting my new writer friend for coffee this afternoon and we’re going to talk about our current projects (among other things, I’m sure). I’m looking forward to it.

There. What do you think? Is the new outlook worth it? Is it going to work? Like I said earlier, I don’t want to become one of those women who hits middle age and does nothing but complain. I’m a very lucky girl and I need to remember that. Life is good. Yes, there’s tragedy. Yes, there’s pain. Yes, there’s self-doubt and anger and worry. But there’s also love. And kindness. And humor. And beauty. And nature. And did I mention the love? Find the positive, my dear readers. It’s not always easy, but it’s there. Find it and hold on tight.

Life is good.

I love the spirit of Christmas. As I said in an earlier blog, I’m not at all religious. And I don’t for a minute mean to take away the religious meaning of the holiday; I totally respect it. I’m just saying that, even though I’m not a religious person, the spirit—the joy and love—of the season infects me every year.

Unfortunately, the commercialization of the holiday causes stress and that stress often overshadows the spirit. I end up running around like a crazy woman for a good six to eight weeks before the actual holiday. My lists are ridiculous and seem to get more so each year. Now that we have a teenager, there is much more to be done and so many questions to be answered. What gifts do I buy? Did I buy Mikki enough? Did I buy her too many? Did I neglect Bonnie’s gifts because I was so busy concentrating on getting enough for Mikki? Can I do all my shopping without setting foot near a mall? (Surprisingly, yes.) Who do we see when? Can we fit everybody into three days? Who will watch the dogs? Is it okay to let Mikki drive herself to Oswego? Am I a nervous mommy if I worry? Did I get enough stocking stuffers? Do I really need to make cookies if I’m pretty much the only one who’ll eat them? (The answer to this one is yes.) Do I have time to send out Christmas cards? (This one is a no.) If I don’t, will people think I forgot them? Did I tip the paper delivery guy? Is $20 enough to give to a man who does a great job, but whom I’ve never seen? How do I teach Mikki that Christmas isn’t about the presents you get, it’s about the love you give, without making her roll her eyes? Is there enough alcohol to get me through the next two weeks? (No, not in the entire world.)

As I’m sure my friend Fay Jacobs would say: Oy.

However, I have something I’m trying to teach myself (and I’m not very good at it yet, but I’m working on it). It is the simple process of stopping, taking a deep breath and spending a moment to remember how lucky I am. There are people who are totally alone on this most loving of all holidays. I am lucky (those of you who are religious would say I’m blessed) that I have so many people to love, so much family to visit, a home to decorate, and the ability to buy gifts to show my loved ones what they mean to me. In the chaos and nuttiness of baking and wrapping and shopping and decorating, it’s important to remember the love.

So, my holiday wish for all of you is that you find a moment. Just one; that’s all you need. Take a deep breath. Look around you. Take in the snow or the sun or the trees or whatever is near. In that moment, allow yourself to just breathe, hear your heart beat, your lungs fill, and let all the love and spirit of the season flow through you. Just for a moment. Remember the love.

Corny? Maybe. Sincere? Most definitely. Thank you to you, my readers, my friends, and my family for all the love and support you give to me throughout the year. It means more than you know and I hope to always be worthy of it.

Happy Holidays to you all from the bottom of my heart.

I’m not a religious kind of girl. Not even a little bit. I was born Catholic and I like to consider myself a “recovering Catholic.” I only go to church for weddings and funerals and I’m a little freaked out the entire time.

Because of this, you’d think Christmas wouldn’t mean all that much to me — and it doesn’t, not in a religious sense, anyway. (And don’t send me letters telling me I’m going to hell or you worry for my soul…I’m not worried, so you needn’t be either.) But in the spiritual sense? I adore Christmas. Adore it. And since you’ve all been so great about my list-y blogs, I’m going to give you another. Here are the things that make me adore the Christmas season, in no particular order:

1. I love that the majority of people are a little nicer in general. Nice rocks. There’s no reason not to be nice. Rude is so unattractive and so unnecessary.

2. I am by no means a rich woman, but I’m thankful that I had an extra dollar to put into the Salvation Army’s red kettle yesterday. And I’m thankful that there are people willing to stand in the cold and ring a bell for hours on end just to help somebody else. You bell ringers are inspirational.

3. I love wrapping presents. I don’t mind shopping (especially if I can avoid the mall and still get it done — thank you, online ordering!), but I really enjoy wrapping and putting presents under the tree. I have no idea why. Sense of accomplishment? Maybe. Seeing eyes light up when presents are noticed? More likely.

4. I love that we have a fireplace (albeit an artificial one…for now) over which to hang the stockings. I’m all about tradition, you know.

5. I love my grandmother’s calamari in the spaghetti sauce. We only have it at Christmas and it’s my favorite. And I love that my grandma is 92 years old and is still making it. And I love that half my cousins don’t like it so I get theirs, too.

6. I love snow. Not blizzards, but snow. And not -10 degrees, but snow. I’m a northeastern girl and Christmas without snow just doesn’t feel right to me. It snowed this morning (finally!) and the ground is white. Now, it feels like Christmas.

7. I love my crazy family. I have four sisters, nine cousins, and twelve nieces and nephews. All shapes and sizes, all personalities. I don’t always like some of them (and they probably don’t always like me), but I love them all and I realize how lucky I am to have them.

8. I’m glad Mikki is here with us this Christmas. It’s a rough time of year for her in general, and this is her first Christmas without either of her parents. I’m trying hard to make it a happy holiday for her, while accepting the fact that I probably can’t. But regardless, she’s here with us, she’s safe, she’s warm, and sometimes, she’s even happy. And we love her. I think that’s a pretty good list.

9. I have the most amazing readership in the whole world. Just about every day, I get an e-mail, a letter, or a Facebook message from somebody who was touched or affected in some way by my work. Nothing means more to me than those correspondences. I got an amazing one just yesterday (hi, Sarah!) that blew me away. You guys are the best and I couldn’t possibly ask for better.

10. I love Christmas movies and shows. I watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer faithfully every year, even though I’m now painfully aware of the fact that Santa is a sexist bigot. I love Elf. I love Scrooged (“It’s a TOASTER!”). I love It’s a Wonderful Life. I love the feel-good, love-everybody tone of them all. They make me mushy and I like feeling mushy.

11. I love my mom’s Christmas cookies. I’m going to help her make them this year. We’ll have wine and spend the day together (and then we’ll hide the cut-outs from my stepdad or he’ll eat them all). It’ll be great.

Mostly, the holiday season helps to remind me how lucky I am to have what and who I do. There are so many less fortunate than I am, so I send love and warm thoughts their way, donate what I can, help where I can, and hope that 2012 turns things around for them.

To all of you who have helped to make 2011 a wonderfully memorable year for me, I simply say thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I am forever grateful for your faith and loyalty and I hope to continue to be worthy of both for a long time to come.

Happy, happy holidays and Happy New Year with lots of love from me and mine.

~Georgia

My brain is all over the place today (thus the title of this blog). This is not unusual. My brain tends to work more like a ping pong table — or maybe a pinball machine is a better analogy — than anything else. I bounce from one topic to another to another to another with very little break in between. Believe me, it’s exhausting. My therapist says I’m “edgy.” Ya think?

So, today, I’m thinking about many things.

First and foremost: Why can’t I update this blog more often? It’s been over two weeks since my last new blog. Not good from a marketing standpoint. My publicist probably hates me. I’m a godawful blogger and I don’t know how to fix it. I have nothing interesting to say. If you make it all the way to the end of this blog, there’s a good chance you’ll keel over from sheer boredom. Beware.

Second, I’m happy to say that parenting is going well lately. Mikki and I haven’t had a screaming match in a couple of weeks now. Yay, us! I’m trying to keep myself from raising my voice when I get frustrated and she’s trying to be more respectful of the rules we’ve put into place for her. Dare I say we’re doing okay? I’m sure I just jinxed myself…

Third bit of trivia: Duncan’s favorite game is now putting his racquetballs underneath things like the coffee table or the liquor cabinet (which he is doing right now, in fact). In other words, things he can’t reach under and therefore needs my help for retrieval. I thought it was a fluke or accident until I started paying attention and noticed he’d go right back to the exact same spot every time and Oops! My ball is stuck again, Mommy! Help! He’s lucky he’s so damn cute. And I hate to admit that he’s growing on me, given that I DIDN’T WANT A PUPPY. (I have to keep saying that in order to cause the most guilt for Bonnie. I told her these are the consequences she must pay for setting me up. She’s accepted that. Because she knows I’m right.) I just made an appointment to have Duncan neutered in a few weeks. Bonnie sent me an e-mail asking if we should take a photo of his hairy little balls for our archives since, “they are sort of cute.”

Fourth in the ping pong game: we’re all winterized. While Mikki was at practice last Saturday, Bonnie and I cleaned up the garage, made room for the cars, mowed the lawn one last time, mulched the leaves. We’ve be so busy being new moms lately that it felt like we hadn’t done any house projects together in ages. It was nice. I now understand how important it is for parents to create something like date night so they can have time alone together. That’s been something I’ve had a tough time adjusting to. I’ve had Bonnie all to myself for more than seventeen years and now I suddenly have to share her. It’s been hard and though I’m very glad Mikki is with us, I don’t think there’s any shame in saying I miss the way things used to be. Bonnie always reminds me that we don’t get her for very long. She’ll go off to college in a year and a half and we’ll be sad and miss having her around. I think she’s right.

My creative life shouldn’t be way down in fifth place, but today, it is. I finished two short stories last week (one for an anthology and one that will be posted for purchase on my site very soon), so I’m feeling creatively accomplished. Which doesn’t happen often, so I need to bask. This also means I’m ready to start focusing on the next novel. I have the bare bones of an outline, but it’s time to sit down and really get to work. This part of the process always has me both excited and nervous. You’d think after eight novels, it would be different, but it’s not.

Sixth – I’m having lunch with my mommy tomorrow. That’s another thing parenting has done: sucked up all my time. I don’t see my family as often as I used to and I actually have to make appointments to meet up with them. So, Mom and I are going to lunch tomorrow, just the two of us. I can’t wait.

I’ve got a Twitter account now (@GeorgiaLBeers). It’s kind of boring, if you ask me. Is that bad? I need to learn how to use it properly and most effectively, I suppose. My friend Erin Cummings is fun to follow; she’s always witty. But me? *snore*

Okay. I think I’ve sufficiently vomited my thoughts onto the screen. If you’re reading this last line, bless your heart for staying with me. Next time, I’ll try to be more interesting. No promises, though.

I’ve said many times in the past that I need to keep my blog updated on a more regular basis. I’ve also stated that my problem with said task is that I don’t often have something to say that I feel is interesting enough that you all might want to hear it. So I stay quiet. Which doesn’t help me update my blog on a more regular basis.

See my dilemma?

So, recently, I saw a link to a tiny little article on my girlfriend, Sara Bareilles. It was called “25 Things You Don’t Know About Sara Bareilles” and it was fun and playful. Bonnie said I should do that for my readers. I thought it was a bit “me, me, me,” but then she asked if I enjoyed reading Sara’s list. I said absolutely and Bonnie simply gave me an expression that said she’d made her point, which left me with no choice but to proceed. My apologies…

20 Things You Don’t Know About Me

1.  I played softball and volleyball for 17 years. And I was good.

2. I changed schools for my senior year of high school.

3. When I feel the need to relax, I have my own coloring books and a giant set of crayons.

4. I like my dogs more than I like most people. They’re honest and they don’t judge or criticize.

5. Along the same lines as #4, I can watch countless numbers of people get killed in a movie, but if the dog is in any danger, I have to leave the room/theater/computer. I can’t do it.

6. Milk is my favorite drink in the whole wide world.

7. I had back surgery for a herniated disk three days before my 31st birthday and I have the sexy scar to prove it (thus, the end of my softball/volleyball days).

8. I have no fashion sense whatsoever.

9. I put myself through college.

10. When I was a kid, my parents couldn’t afford to get me braces for my teeth, so I got them when I could pay for them myself. I was 30. I didn’t get my very first filling until I was 43. (I’m kind of a freak about my teeth.)

11. I am the eldest of five daughters. I have a sister, two step-sisters, and a half-sister.

12. I had a boyfriend and a girlfriend in college at the same time because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

13. My favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip.

14. I hate math because I can’t grasp it. Numbers can frustrate me to the point of tears (ask my junior year trig teacher).

15. I watch the Oscars faithfully every year and do my best to see all the nominated films.

16. I laugh very easily. Bonnie says I’m a stand-up comic’s wet dream.

17. I think I have a touch of OCD.

18. I like to bake. I’m not very good at it, but I enjoy it.

19. If my mom didn’t make the best chicken cutlets in the entire world, I could easily be a vegetarian. I even like tofu.

20. I’d rather be alone than around other people. I’m not comfortable in a crowd. My idea of utter hell would be Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Or Mardi-Gras.

Okay, I think that’s more than boring enough. But at least my blog is updated. Yay, me!