Sunday, June 28, 2015

Go 49ers and a Bday Note to Self

Dear Self,

Birthdays make for good days to reminisce. Remember yesterday, the dinner party? That was fun. We laughed so much about silly nonsense. Those are the best kinda friends to keep in your life.

That cake was so tiny but you did well finishing it off today. I knew you could and would.
Go 49ers! I think the season's over, though I really have no clue. 

And Self, it was a nice idea to take you, Self, to Sacramento for a day of fun and pampering. But Self, please remember next year that Sacramento has things like intersecting and merging freeways that weave into and out of each other seemingly on a whim; and four-lane traffic and signs that lead you only to either Reno or San Francisco, and while either would make a nice getaway spot, that would require more time; and when you've past the Downtown exit for the twelfth time; and when you tell you, Self, "Don't get frustrated, Self. It's your birthday, Self" while some f*r who you flip off -- I can't believe you did that, Self, and on your birthday too! -- doesn't let you merge into the exit lane that it took you 35 minutes to find, and stuff like that, please remember that perhaps it's best to make alternative plans.

But the facial, plus hand and foot massage, were very nice. Don't be too frustrated, Self, that said treatment was delivered by a petite, docile Betty, versus a burly bronze manly Sven. You might have had a harder time hearing, "Robyn, it's over" from Sven.

Regardless, it was a Happy Birthday, Self. Go 49ers!

Dear Everyone Else, 

Happy new week!

I'm Chair again this year of Chico's Out of the Darkness for suicide prevention. For my birthday, I'm asking for $1 from everyone I know towards the cause. (More than that won't be refused.) If you're interested, my story and the link are here. Thank you.

Be well, and I'd offer you some cake if I had any left to offer.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Woman on the Verge of Paradise and Publication

     Happy summer, dear readers. It feels strange saying that, because we've been enduring 100+ degree weather in Chico for several weeks. But summer is officially here now, and I hope it brings pleasant weather and experiences your way.
     I'm getting excited about debuting Woman on the Verge of Paradise. I'll send her into the world next month - near the end of July! I can't wait to show you the fabulous cover that my good friend, Bryan Pedas, ala A Beer for the Shower, created.
   For now, here's a bit from the chapter called Mindless Meanderings (about halfway through the book).

   This scene takes you into yet another lousy date...
   He chuckled awkwardly. “I asked what you do for a living.”
   “Oh, I’m a social worker.”
   “Cool.” He guffawed, followed by a high-pitched snort. “You get paid to, like, be social. I wouldn’t mind that job.”
   “Well, yeah, I mean it’s not all fun and games but it pays the bills. Actually, it barely pays the  bills, with no cushion for a nice pair of socks or a really cool stash of paperclips.” Manny showed no response. “But I like what I do. Usually…” I paused and grinned. “No, it’s nice” —my tone integrated authenticity— “I can end my days knowing I made a difference in people’s lives. It feels good and meaningful. You know?”
   He shrugged.
   “What do you do, Manny?”
   “Oh, I’m a professional student.” He laughed, confidently, as if to embark on a well-rehearsed speech. “I got my first degree in English. Did some small office jobs after that. That’s all I could find. Talk about a useless degree. Now I’m at Cal State Hay—”
   I counted three definitive wrinkle lines crossing his wide, pale forehead.
   I looked down at my plate, now empty. I don’t remember eating those tacos. Damn. I had to find something else to do with my time.
   I looked back up and decided those wrinkles must be a good 4.5, no 4.75 inches in length, 1/4 or maybe 1/8 inch wide. Crap. What if I get major wrinkles like that before I die? And a receding hairline? I’d die. 
   “You know?” he asked.
   “Oh yeah, I know.” I nodded in agreement. “I know.”

Take care, and keep a smile!

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Reasons for Celibacy: # 341-350: My Density

Hi, Friends,

I hope life is treating you well.
Now that I'm back to reading on-line dating ads (both for your entertainment and my...gratitude. Thank goodness for celibacy!), we're moving on to reasons #341-350 for a straight single gal like me to fully appreciate solitude. Enjoy.            

REASON #341: Helpwanted  
Okay, babe. The spacebar is just below the bottom row of letters. Tap it gently with either of your thumbs.

REASON #342: I am your density...
*gripping a hearty roll of belly fat*. Funny, I thought that was all the chocolate I eat.

REASON #343: Born with a Bow Tie 
Did it hurt your Mommy’s nipples?

REASON #344: love a fireplace
No thanks. I don’t wanna get burned. 

REASON #345: Why the hell do u women pucker ur lips up 4 a pic
Oh, sweetie, you’re looking at the tabloids. It’s called botox.

REASON #346: looking for Venus I'm Jupiter!????
Phew! For a minute there, I was afraid you were gonna show me Uranus.

REASON #347: i am he, here i am 
You’re he? He is I? There I is?

REASON #348: he is I and I am him!! 
Wait a minute. The other guy is he and I is there but you are he and he is him and so is I. I’m so confused!

REASON #349: Does "REAL" Exsist............
That I can’t tell you.

REASON #350: Are your standards to high?  
Keep a smile and have a good week!

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Orange is the New Hot: Poetic Erotica

Hi! My friends from Chico's Open Mic scene have been encouraging me to continue with holiday-based poetic erotica. June posed a challenge, though. Father's Day? I couldn't do it. So I went with ordinary erotica instead. This one's based on an "encounter" I had in Big Sur years ago. I'd blogged about it then, and I've made that piece into a poem. I bet Alex will remember the original post. I'm not sure about the rest of you.

At any rate, I hope you're neither miserably hot and sticky, nor terribly cold and frigid. That's never good.
Be well, take care, and enjoy.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Robyn Asks Kris Jenner The Real Questions and Makes her Tantrum: IWSG

My computer went on strike last night. I'm happy that it decided to work for the moment, especially because it's time for the IWSG ~ Insecure Writer's Support Group, the brainchild of Alex J. Cavanaugh. It's a chance to support each other and express our writerly insecurities.I've somehow morphed that mission into interviewing the rich, famous, and stupid. Here we go...
Caitlyn and Kris Jenner: How Can Exes Have Opposite Views of the Same Marriage?
Robyn = black bold / Kris = pink background

Today, my friends, I'm welcoming Kris Jenner, Mom-Manager of the Kardashian clan and ex-wife to the woman formerly known as the man and Olympic Gold Medalist Bruce Jenner, now currently known as the woman Caitlyn Jenner. See photo on the left.

Come on out here, Kris! Kris Jenner, dressed in all black, walks onto the stage tearfully and sits on a bar stool. She notices that nobody is in the audience, and there's no bartender to bring her a drink or seven.
Yeah, thanks for coming, Mrs. Jenner. I mean, Bruce Jenner's ex-wife. I couldn't get anyone here. They're all at the stage next-door. Caitlyn's talking about his, I mean her, Vanity Fair photo shoot. So what's the most upsetting part of the whole thing for you, is it--Kris breaks in while Robyn's talking--Well, he, he, didn't tell--Robyn breaks in while Kris is talking--I bet it's that his, I mean her, breasts are perkier than yours, right? 

Or is it that you weren't woman enough for him to want to stay a man? 
Kris begins to wail.  
I'm sorry. This is obviously a very touchy subject for you. Your mascara is running all over the place. Good God, you look terrible! In fact, that botox lip job is horrid. Caitlyn's mouth looks much sexier. Don't you think? Robyn holds up a huge photo of Caitlyn, placing it next to Kris' face, as if to compare. Kris wails louder.
I know. I know. But is this really about the fact that he's, I mean she's, getting more attention than you now?
No, It's not that. It's, I just don't know what to believe anymore about our marriage and --Robyn interrupts-- Look, b*tch! You were never nice to him. I mean, her, but she was a he when you were married to him, so I think it's okay for me to say him, given the timing of the him-to-her-transition. Now you're acting all, "I'm so jilted because my ex-husband turned into a woman!" I mean, yeah, it's a weird concept to swallow. On that note, did you ever...? Never mind. I have a hard - pardon the pun - time with it too. There's something awkard and creepy about this Bruce-to-Caitlyn thing. If it were truly a private decision, why is he insisting on his, I mean why is she insisting on her, TV show and all the hoopla and...Well, hot damn, her breasts look pretty good. Don't you think? Kris is now face down on the floor, tantrumming loudly. 

Robyn laughs at her and mocks, Baby talk, baby talk! It's a wonder you can walk!  Next, Robyn turns to the camera. 
What do you think, folks?