Hi there!! I got my 2nd prize logo from MS. KNIGHT

Angela Knight, that is. Who is oooh so nice. She is, as are many many other authors that I've met on my journey. They've all taught me something, but mostly, they've taught me to be kind and generous.

Now, I have to put this in here so I can put it in my sidebar too. Technical wizardry is my favorite thing.. NOTTTT!

OOHOO!

I got wonderful news today from Far Angel Reviews:

A Five Angel Review!!

This means so much to me because it is the first review of my first book and it says that maybe, just maybe, I do have a touch of talent with words. LOL.

Reviewers have a sometimes thankless job. They slog through a lot of dreck day after day, offering positive comments despite it all. Most are kind, courteous, and intelligent. Of course, the Lady Linda at FAR who it says reviewed my book is a genius with wonderful taste. *grins*

But, it can be hard reading a lot of books, keeping them all straight and then offering up a review that is insightful without giving away end, kind without being a pushover, and above all else, honest. So, hats off to all reviewers, you make us authors happy to face the day, armed with a bit of confidence inspired by your kind words.

To read the full review please click on the link below.






Oh and if I haven't mentioned it before.. WHOOOHOO!! YEAH!


Jenna

PS: That pic has nada to do with this blog message, however, never EVER pass up the chance to look at a pretty set of abs. *sighs*

Small bit of advice.

If you know an elevator is out of order, perhaps when the door is closing on a person INSIDE said elevator is NOT the time to say loud enough for her to hear. "Let her get on it and we'll see if it's not working and THEN we'll call maintainence." *makes a very unhappy face* As the damn doors are closing .. CLOSING I SAY! I being the lazy heifer on the elevator instead of taking the stairs as I know I should, but I don't as my knees suck from 15 years worth of hind catching.. well, to say I freaked out is a bit of an understatement.

The truth would be more along the lines of somewhere in between me stuck to the ceiling of the elevator ala Sylvester the cat when the mice scared him and a lot of nasty words being bellowed while I searched unsuccessfully for my cigarettes. I'd only bought one down with me and had already smoked it. My oral fixation was not going to be indulged during this horrid stay in a tiny little cubicle of steel that could at any minute drop me the admittedly small distance of oh, say 12 feet or so. This would screw up my weekend to say the least.

Old people are evil. I think since they are closer to death, they don't fear it quite so much. They are the ones that decided that I would be the Jennia pig for their little does the elevator work experiment.

Note: The Aerosmith song, Love in an Elevator at no time ran through my brain. 1. because their aint nobody in there with me 2. because, just ew, how unsanitary, imagine all the germs. *gack* 3. I could get fired so why should I do that when I have a perfectly wonderful hubby at home for such a purpose in the comfort and privacy of my own bedroom.

Ok, relative comfort and so so privacy as at any time you can see the cat sticking his paw beneath the door to aggro us. Or the insane teen queen comes to jiggle the door and then screams "EWW GROSS EWW" as she figures out why we have the door locked. She admonishes us, to use something for heaven's sakes as she don't want no siblings before she runs off, noisily. I am so proud to have taught my baby that protection is important if for no other reason than that she will continue to enjoy her only child status within this household and my hubby will continue to enjoy having his testicles where they belong and not in a jar in my mother's jail cell. *blinks*

Where was I? Oh yes, the damn elevator! I am trapped in the frigging thing and I can hear them buzzards out there saying, well, I guess it doesn't work. Lets call maintainence. At least, I think this is what they say as I am frantically pressing the open door button at the speed of freak, all the while consigning their geriatric asses straight to old people hell. I have just decided to sic my grandfather in law on them, he has a walker and he ain't afraid to use it, when MIRACLE OF MIRACLES!! The damn thing opens.

They look surprised.. and if I don't miss my guess, disappointed that I didn't try and climb out the top. Gah!! So, I just give them the crazy eye, which I've mentioned doesn't work as well as it did at one time. One is a former school teacher, nothing phases her, the other is a man, and well, as you know, NOTHING gets through to them at times. When I whine to my boss, he snickers at me.

This could be because of the evil trick I played on him just this morning, however, I am not admitting to anything and C made me do it. He did!


Friday is finally here!!

Signed,

The very low on the food chain
Jenn/Jenna Leigh.
PS, when I'm rich and famous, I'm gonna buy that hospital. I'd say I'd fire them, but they're volunteers.

Local News

I am now a member of the Morehouse Parish Chamber of Commerce. Yes, me, the original anti-establishment redneck. I'm too southern to be a liberal, but I am surely not a conservative. However, I'm now in there with the others that do the tourist type stuff for the town of Bastrop and the parish as well. Why? Well, funny you should ask that question.

My agent, D (this is a joke, but she needs to receive a percentage) decides that I shall be doing a book signing because in her words, "This is an important thing for you. And you WILL be doing this." Take note, usually D is the sweetest of people. However, like most of sweet people, she can also have a tizzy when the occasion calls for it. So, with the help of a wonderful lady in another department, A, the two of them go whisper in a corner and look at me while I am working.

As I am a paranoid soul, this doesn't sit well with me. I give them the crazy eye back, as this usually works. Not this time, they give me identically evil grins back, instead. *blinks* I am losing my touch! The crazy eye didn't work! I can hit someone with that and make em run. Yes, I mean C, who is evil and must be destroyed. T can live, not C. *coughs*

When I come out of my office (or cage as C, who must be destroyed calls it)they nab me and say, "Sign this this and this and shut up!" So, I sign and *gulps* I'm a member of the C of C. And I'm having a book signing in about a month or so, whenever my order of books comes in, I get it reviewed by a lady that works for Bastrop Daily Enterprise and she *double gulps* interviews me.

I am used to being the interviewer not the interviewee. It will be interesting to see how it is on the answering side of the Q and A.

OH DEAR GOD!! I just thought of something. What if ALL my relatives show up for the signing? I'm gonna need some more books. Hit me for a few more hundred!! Ok, fine, a thousand. *grins* Hey, sometimes, it DOES pay to be an inbred redneck with relatives coming out the woodwork. Oh, wait, er.. no.. er.. no. I'm gonna go and have a lie down. Yall have a loverly night!!

And yeah, I do hear that song in my head.

I'm a member of a country club
I do my drankin from a dixie cup..

Love ya,

Jenna Leigh
Who may be associated with the insane redneck that also posts on this board. Especially if the relations buy her..my books.

Mooohaahaahaha Bovinas Locinas, signing off.

I sorta kinda maybe did good.

LOL. Yeah, I may be sure about that statement. Don't quote me on it though. I entered the contest of a wonderfully generous author named, Angela Knight. She ran it on her yahoo group just because she's that nice. She's also one of my all time favorite authors, bar none. So, she put up a contest and I entered and damn if I didn't get second.

Second is damn good! I didn't even think I was going to place, not with all the wonderful people that entered as well. Heck, some of the people I speak with personally almost every single night are better than I am, at least, I think they are.

But, then again, they say the same about me. I mean it, so, I guess they do too. That brings me to the real subject of my blog.

Support

Yeah, I ain't talkin about panty hose, this is NOT a certain insane Russian's blog about pantyhose, dammit. *snickers about that* I mean literary, critical, and yeah, emotional support.

What do you when you need a friend to tell you that you do not in fact suck big rotten eggs? You IM them and whine until they say "FINE YOUR STUFF IS GOOD NOW LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO WRITE!" That would be Nee.. she's soo sweet, lil cheerleader she is, in a pink skirt no less. Yes, I said the p word, dear. MOOUAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Or if it's Karen, she gets all prissy with you and tells you to get real and deal. Love that insane Glamazon especially when she's to quote her, "gettin mushy" LOL

Meems? The one that will actually be sweet to you. She says all the right things and what's more, sincerely means em. Heck, she loves me, I dunno why. Just lucky I guess. Or else she's done somethin reeeally bad in a former life.

Kitta makes this cat face at me over the internet. I can actually see it you know. I'm cyberpsychic or something. The face says only this: "Don't make me come all the way over there just to smack you in the head. If you do, you will be SO sorry. I shall bring hobbits instead of Aragorn." Ok, the last, she wouldn't say, but she'd probably bring me one of those dang mutated grasshoppers they have over there called Wetas. Google em, go ahead, you'll freak just like me. Bugs shouldn't be that large. Jimminy Cricket took steroids aack!

As for my other loverly friends, Mila, WF, The Debster, Livvinator, and so many others I cannot even name them all, they tell me I ain't too shabby. Do I believe it? Eh, maybe. LOL

I hope that readers will like what I do, because, hey, that's what matters. I made you laugh, made you cry, sigh, or say dang baby, ain't it time to go to bed yet? sortsa things. Any of these will make me happy.

Yall have a good one, and lets just not have any more Mondays, like ever!!

Night!!

Jenna
Still not in w/the insane redneck who shares this blog. That woman's nutters. I swear, she ran from a dog today that was no bigger than her foot. What a wuss! *grins*

It's up for sale!! OOHOOO

My book, Braless in the Buick is up for preorder at the site psst, in paperback.
http://www.champagnebooks.com/

Also the pictured left is the bookmark that my friend Donna Hatten made for me! I love it! So, all the good news has helped me make it through another day in the icky work week.

Have a good one and tomorrow is HUMPDAY!! It's all down hill from there, and then we can all do the Friday Fandango..

Love ya,

Jenna Leigh
*In no way affiliated with the insane other person with whom I sweetly share this blog out of the goodness of my heart. You know, that insane redneck that has the Evil Feline Master. Yeah, her. She's scary!

The Q is correct. Cats ARE evil

***warning, slightly icksome***

**NOTE TO PETA** Yes, mice were harmed in the blogging of this blog. I'm sorry, but that is one evil cat.

Ok, so, I have to wait and ride home with hubby today. That means my day lasts from 7 to 5, blah. I did read almost an entire book in the 2 hr wait time, so that's good. Anyways, we come home and I make me an iced coffee. It has to be iced as it was 92 degrees today. I even played the sweet wife and fixed hubby's lunch plate which consisted of porkchop, bbq beans and tater salad. The damn thing weighs about 5 lbs, and he'll eat it all, which is sad, the skinny bastid.

So, I'm all happy and sweet and we sit down to watch Rachel Ray for a few minutes and unwind. Ok, my cat is hopping around on the shoes by the door. We've had a few mice here lately, due to the dryness of the weather and the mowing of the pastures around us. I thought, well shoot, here we go again.

It is slightly funny to see that freaky feline stick his foot in a shoe like some furry demented wicked stepsister from Cinderella. Catarella (shrugs) who knows? So, we snicker. Hubby's on one couch, I'm on the other. Suddenly, with a ferocity of a lion (ess, I know the boy's are lazy) on the African plain, he shoots out of the corner in hot pursuit of one of those tiny little field mice. OMG!!

Hubby has his plate in his hand, he doesn't drop it of course, but he jumps up on the back of the couch and screams like a girl. I laugh, really really hard. And point. *coughs*

**** Dreamie Sequence of Events****

Yep, wild frickin kingdom in the living room! Any minute I expect Marlin Perkins to come flittin in there with whatever unlucky schmuck that he had doin all the heavy work and say. "Yes, the american housecat is one of the most violent killers of rodents of all time! Watch as he pounces on his prey, hear the squeaks of horror. (from the mouse as well. My but the man hit high c that time, I'm most impressed, *blinks*what? Oh yes, back to the cat.) The cat has pierced the mouse's flesh with his canines."

***All pause***

Bean: I am a cat, I don't have canines, I have sharp teeth in the front of my mouth. Let's call em, felines.. *smirks* Thank yew... say I have canines again and I shall pierce your dangly bits with my even sharper claws.

**Back to the show**

"Hans, stand in front of me, yes, thank you. Now watch as the cat lets the mouse think he's gotten away only so he can run him toward his huge chickenshit human male. This amuses the cat to no end as it does the human female the cat calls Meowma to make her feed him. She falls for it too, stupid woman that she is. As if the cat cares not one whit for her except as a food source and a prop for his huge behonkus."

*paws*

Bean: Do not tell ALL my secrets. I am getting you next, just so's ya know.

***Back to the Show***

"Er, it seems that we are too close to the action. Why don't we leave the camera here and come back later? Come Hans."

"Yes marstar... " Shuffles off.. *runs like hell when the cat feints at them*


***
Ok, the cat played with the mouse. And yeah, I know that cat and mouse is a saying for a reason. But, just, ew. That was icky... Finally, after my hubby jumped the coffee table and sat on me, I convinced him to dispose of the thing.

He took an empty saltine box and flicked it inside it with the dustpan. The stupid mouse immediatly jumped back out into the cat's arms. *blinks* Is he a .... hee hee.. Mousachist? *yall knew I was gonna say this at some point, so shut up!* Hubby, making that adorable squealing noise the whole, entire time, flicked it back in again and yelled for me to open the door. I did so, and he chucked box, mouse and all, out into the front yard.

I look down and there is a bit of gray fluff on the dustpan (cat hair the bane of my existance) and I jump and say OMG is it on the dustpan? At which point he screams again and throws the dustpan at ME..

Well, I retaliated by shoving him aside and running in the house. By this time, I've figured out it wasn't the mouse and I am ROFLMFAO. Literally. I lay on the floor and just hooted for about 20 minutes. I figure I've gotten my cardio workout for the day. *sighs*

So, here I am, safely ensconsed in my room with the door shut.
Hubby's twitchy.. (I've been helpin it along with the point and scream trick)
Cat's pissed as his toy is gone AGAIN! Humes are vile.. pah...ffth!.. (woe to the hubby that thinks he can sleep nekkie w/out suffering the consequences.. aka perforated penis)

Just so's ya know? This aint a Disney friendly household. If Mickey's lil weird cartoon self comes through the door, Bean shall open a can of Redneckus Felinus Woopus Arsus upon him like you wouldn't believe. It'll be a smack down. All bets are on the cat.

This episode of
Wild Jenndom
is brought to you by,
Redneck Willie
Badass Bean
and
Really Stupid Rodents

Ahhhhh.. At least Monday is over now.. *grins*
Jenna Leigh

Happy Easter!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday with lots of food, family and friends. Hunt the eggs, eat the chocolate, just be safe traveling to and from.

Someone asked me, "What does Easter mean to you?" Besides those flowers shown, which are my favorite, a lot of different things.

When I was younger, it meant church, new dresses, a basket of candy and then Easter Dinner. Now, I can also add, the southern Easter has all those things, but one thing it has to have to be complete is, Ham. Yep, it deserves to be capitalized. The Easter Ham is one of the best things you can eat. The potato salad, beans, devil eggs, and pies all help, but without Ham, the holiday just don't mean as much to me.

That got me thinking on regional foods and what they represent to the people of the region. For me, food means a lot. (looks at butt) Ok, a WHOLE lot. But, nothing brings back a memory like food. Turnip greens(w/bacon) and cornbread, peas (w/bacon) and cornbread, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. You note there is a theme here. Grease, cornbread and/or bacon LOL.

But, just the taste of my own biscuits or cornbread takes me back to my mother and my two grandmothers. These three women were cooks of varying degrees of expertise. My maternal grandmother(Mamaw) was the fry queen. She liked to fry be it chicken, chicken livers, or salmon patties, that was her thing. Otherwise, you could forget it unless it was a dessert from a box. And, I won't get started on the nasty koolaid (blech)

My own mother learned to cook from her mother-in-law (Meemaw) Yes, the names are confusing to the outsider, but I had it down to a science! My mother's mother is Mamaw, and my daddy's parents were Meemaw and Peepaw, I had no maternal grandfather so, eh.

The point is, you'd think that the MIL teaching the DIL to cook is an 'accident' with sharp implements waiting to happen. Not so, but only because of the personalities of these two wonderful individuals, I'm sure. Meemaw was a patient woman, sweet, and a Christian of the best sort. This meant she felt it her duty to spread the word of God by living right and being kind and er.. teaching those less fortunate to cook cardiac on a plate sorts of dishes we all know and love.

My mother is just a little pig that wanted to know how to make her own dang biscuits and gravy, by golly. She did love my Meemaw and the feeling was mutual even after my parents divorced when I was 12. She improved on all these dishes with her own little extras and now is THE cook of 'real' food in the family. My aunts make sides and desserts, the ability of which still eludes Mama.

All three of my grandparents are gone now, leaving behind a lot of memories, some character traits, a dimple in this one's cheek, a twinkle in this one's eye, the volume of this one's voice *points at self* and big bones *oh yeah this one too, lucky me, THANKS MEEMAW!*. But I also got the ability to make fried chicken, peas, cornbread, mashed taters and gravy like nobody's business. Plus many other wonderful southern belle dishes that make Paula's Home Cooking look like a dieter's delight. (except mayo, yeck, Paula, just yeck)

So, tomorrow I go to my mama's looking forward to the friends, family, kids hunting eggs and all of that. But, I'd be lying if I didn't admit to really looking forward to the food she's got cooked. Like Homer Simpson once said.. Mmmm, Ham *drools* HAPPY EASTER!

Now if I can get Mama's ability to make sweet tea, we'll be set.

Jenn
Proud to be a redneck gourmand.

I am ze blogmistress

Ok, not really. But, I do help out a few now and then. Where there are broken links, I'll be there, where there are funky pics, I'll be there. When Charissa's blog is pink.. It tweren't me! *grins* Here ya go Debster, either one of these will do. I made it smaller, so you can use it as your proffie pic. (hugs)



If you can use this one, do so, if not the one above will work better. Yes, it is strange to be blogging link instructions, yall leave us alone!

Uh, publicity?

Do you see that picture? *points* That's me. I know that I aint an ogre or nothing, but seriously, I don't have the face and form ready for prime time! Sheesh!

So, imagine my surprise (read shock, angst and horror) when my coworkers begin to smirk at me. I corner the weakest link (yes, Debbie, YOU) and ask her, what's the deal?

She smirkily replies.. We're getting you interviewed by the local paper aaannd.. she pauses for dramatic effect (oh, yeah, it did work) a book signing.

*takes deep breath* Ok! well then.. er.. I thought I had it bad with my mama standing up in her work place home of many kith and kin of my hometown and screaming 'MY BABY IS GETTING PUBLISHED YALL!!' at the top of her lungs. This loud (I do get it honest) statement was followed by the taking down of the website

http://www.champagnebooks.com/ with pens and papers. *gulps*

Now then, that's fine. Mama loves me and she is entitled to brag as she pushed me out her hoohah thirty *mutter mutter* years ago. Not that she felt it or nothing cause she unlike myself got the good drugs PFFTH!

Anyhoo, so er.. Debbie et al are going to do a book signing for me in town. Nothing big or anything, but I'm sort of floored, freaked and yeah, humbled that they all love me this much. One of the insane radiologists is helping to set that up too. I'm gonna cry you know, they're gonna make me cry and then, well *sniffs* I dunno what's next.

However, try to explain to those that don't deal with it often, the difference between epress and print.

It goes like this:

Me: You can buy the cd and read it on the computer, Mama.

Mama: I can read it on the computer? What do you mean read it on the computer? I ain't readin on the computer, you are gonna fix it so I don't have to right? Make the print really big too. Send Morgan to the house, she'll fix it!

Me: Yes, Mama.

Mama: I mean it, REALLY BIG! My eyes are NOT going bad, my arms are getting shorter.

Me: *smothers laughs as she doesn't want a wuppin* Urm.. yes.

Mama: Is this DIRTY? I am not sure I can read dirty stuff.

Me: Yes it's dirty really smutty and nasty and all. (no it aint but she is insane and it is way fun to aggravate her)

Mama: You nasty wench.. *snickers evilly*

Me: I told yall I got it honest, and now you all know.. *sighs*

Mama: Are you talking to people about me *looks out onto the cyberworld and blinks* YOU ARE! Just wait til I get my hands on you.. mmhmm. I am gonna tell your Aunt Cindy on you too.

****

So are the days of my life in the spotlight of my family, friends and God only knows who else before the things done.

Now, while I'm on the subject of family, I'd like to thank my daughter, Momo for making me a really kewl banner out of my cover. She's the best. I can't put it up here as it moves and shakes, but you can look at it on my website, the links over to the right.

Have a good one! And today is humpday for me. It's all downhill from here! WHOOHOO!

On second thought though, if each relative buys a book, I'll be a flippin millionaire, ok, a thousandaire. *grins*

Jenn, Proud to be a Redneck

Breathe.. Just Breathe

Yes, it is real. It IS. *points* There is the cover for my first release.

Braless in the Buick is a romantic comedy, something I've been told I'm good at, the comedy, not romance. Who knew being called a smartalec all my teenaged years would lead to something so wondrous, so marvelous, so wow!

The story is about a single mom, trying to start over again in a new neighborhood with her son. She's got support, in her nosy neighbors who are more than a little bit inspired by some of my insane friends.

In fact, the whole thing came about because of another insane friend, who I picked on about an incident in her real life. I guess they're right, being a writer is taking things from your life and making them into a story that maybe, hopefully someone else will want to read.

Meet Allie and Jake, or ok, fine! First the supporting cast:Yes, Neeley, you are a wonderful president of the Neighborhood Inquisition, I mean, er.. Watch. Kay is THE Divine Diva of all that is trendy, Merry's the intuitive, supportive 'sweet' one. (yes, we laughed too) Sharlene is Jake's partner, quiet, scary and very good at being bad. And then there is Dana, the Sex Educator of the Soccer Moms. MJ, the son who wants his mom to be happy especially if the man is as cool as Mr. Donally. Will Allie forgive Jake when she finds out the real reason he's been hurking off her back porch? Do Allie and Jake have a chance at love with the above cast of crazies milling around? Do they have a choice is the real question..
***
Excerpt:
Moms Gone Wild: The Early Morning Edition?
Allie was sure she was three different women. There was Public Allie and then there was Worry Wart, the phobia queen, each day she got a little louder. But there was also Inner Slut. She’d been asleep since college, but this guy woke her up with a vengeance.

Worry Wart squealed for her to run, run from the potential serial killer. Then Inner Slut suggested a few things she could do to make him holler instead. They involved chocolate syrup, whipped cream and if she wasn’t mistaken, a feather duster.

Inner Slut almost won the battle with the last little volley. It was a close thing for a minute there, but Worry Wart was a dirty fighter, plus she had Mrs. Lisbon on her side.

“Get in the car, M.J. I’ll handle Mr. Donally.” She intended to drive off before Mr. Donally reached them. She would bring him some money later, when she was properly dressed. But when she pulled her own door open all the papers fell onto the ground. “Well, shit!” She scrambled to pick them up.

“You broke my Bonsai.” He stood over her, looming like a vulture. Guilt swamped her at his hurt tone.

She started to stand, only to have his hand on her lower back stop her. “How dare you?”
“No, wait. You–.” He began but she didn’t listen, just pushed his hand away and reared up intending to give him a piece of her mind.

Unfortunately, she slammed her head on the edge of the door and lost what little mind she had left after this morning’s debacle.

Allie hit the pavement and waited for the stars swirling overhead to subside from her vision. A pair of strong hands picked her up and turned her over.

Mr. Donally lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all and part of her sighed over that. But then she remembered how stupid she’d looked and decided it was a fruitless fantasy, despite Inner Slut’s suggestions to the contrary.

Coming May 2006 from Champagne Books

So, Friday comes along and..

I've been looking forward to it all dang week, you know? But, Murphy is apparently a redneck and he loves to visit me.

Case in point....

We let the daughter drive, therefore, as I'm shortest, I get to be in the backseat. Fun!! Ok, so, I'm reading and lying down, as I'm lazy and tired and have had a week from hell. Anyhoo, we get to the mall to pick up the hubby's glasses and I feel it.. the dreaded sensation of leaving reality behind for what I call.. Seizureville.

Yeah, I lost it. I began to see things, hear things, smell things that just don't exist outside the strange twisted existance that only crops up from time to time for me. I take meds for this problem, but lately, they aint' working out.

This entire week, I've had a lowgrade fever and combined with the time change, this has thrown me off my game. So, there ya go. Me in the back seat, hubby in the front, daughter driving, all of us freakin the hell out. Especially hubby. Mo's just driving the car. Me? I've gone into that special la la land reserved for me where I speak perfectly clear in my head, but what actually comes out my mouth is more along the lines of Martian via The Redneck Star.

My head spins, my eyes flicker, the world tilts and then.. blackness. Utter and complete darkness that no light can penetrate. Only the soft, soothing sound of my hubby informing that he has everything under control and it's all gonna be alright. *snorts* It would help if he wasn't havin a cow at the time too.

But, there ya go.

Then, I wake up and it gets a bit comical as I am singing some song that only makes sense to me, I cuss out the passing cars on the highway loudly.. and perhaps shoot them a sign or two with my hand. They call my mother on me (gasps) how dare they? She fusses, I fuss back (cringes) and then, I don't really remember if I even said goodbye. I think my stepfather was even called at some point. With those two, who knows?

And then, there is Walmart, as I am so not leavin town until groceries have been bought.

Note: the Hellmouth and I don't get on in the best of times, but hey, going through it in the throws of post seizure drunk is not so damn bad. I don't recall but about 1/4 of it, I didn't kill anyone, they even let me push a buggy, tho, I now recall they kept a hand on it with me at all times. I wonder if perhaps they thought I'd run peeps over. Nah, not me. I'm the sweetest thing all the time. *snickers*

Hell, I just hope I didn't cuss anyone out in the Hellmouth.. if I do that, I want to remember it clearly and with much relish.

Then, we came home and I took a three and a half hour nap only to wake up to Degrassi Jr High or what the hell ever it is now. Sheesh.

*sighs* So, here's to a f*cked up Friday. *holds up her meds and a cup of coffee*

Jenn, who would have been burned as a witch in olden days.. *pauses* Sometimes, it's still a close thing. Too bad for them that Rednecks don't burn well. Bar B Q'd Redneck .. nah, if you have some pork though, then we'll talk.

Friday Eve

Oh dear Lord, who are in heaven, hallowed by thy name. The weekend comes, thy will be done, make Saturday last an eternity..

The Weekend comes, if I stand on tiptoe, I can almost see the shining beakon of Saturday coming up over the horizon. When your weekday job sucks big lemons, you begin to look upon the two days of the week you have off as your salvation. The one thing that keeps you from taking a gun and becoming the next big thing on the evening news.

Unfortunately, the largest calibur I have is rat shot. While that is appropriate for some of my most favorite targets, it wouldn't do the damage I'd want it to. If I am gonna get put in jail, I want it to have been for something, you know?

So, here's to Friday, flying past. Then, all time stopping on Sat. and Sun. I hope the weekend drags on so slowly that it will seem as if Monday will never appear. *gasps* I said the M word. Damn, call the FCC.

I'm the Friday Goddess Baby.. lets do the dance, yall.

Did I mention Deb's Evil? I didn't? weelllll mm!

20 years ago-ish I...
Was in high school
2. Dated a damn dopehead idiot
3. Spent a lot of the time wasted and listening to metal music

10 years ago-ish I...
1. Was a single mom2. Had a ‘friend’ with bennie’s *grins*
3. Was a cafeteria lady

5 years ago-ish I...
1. Remarried
2. Moved to another city
3. Got a new job; oh, it sucks too. Pah
3 years ago-ish I...

1. Starting writing for an RP group
2. Got sucked into it
3. Discovered that maybe I am pretty damn good at it.
1 year ago-ish I...

1. Thought hey, I might as well do this shit for a profit and not for free
2. Sent in the first submission..
3. Got accepted WHOOOT!

So far this past year I...
1. Been offered a contract to publish a story
2. Got offered a 2nd then a 3rd contract
3. Have been freaking out ever since.

Yesterday I...
1. Had the Fever
2. Cried watching old ass Country Music tunes
3. Read a book..

Today I...
1. Wrote a review
2. Worked my ass off and wondered why I have not switched jobs yet (ditto Deb)
3. I stayed at work despite the fever of 100 degrees (they so owe me I hope they catch my damn cooties)

Tomorrow I will...
1. Get up and do this shit again.
2. Make sure Bill gets my damn ciggies and my meds..
3. Be one fucking day closer to .. Yeah, you guessed it, FRIDAY! WHOOHOO

In the next year I will...
1. Get more of my work out there
2. Maybe write some under a pseudonym
3. Will WRITE lots of hot sweaty sex (less messy more profitable)


In the next minute I will tag...
1. Meme
2. Mila

Time is on my side.. NO IT AIN'T!!

Why? Tell me this. Why in the world would you screw around with something so basic, so much a part of a person's life as the time?

I have a theory that since I was born in the fall, October, that I am more attuned to the Fall Back time that they do. So, when this freakin Spring Forward thing happens, it throws off my biorhythms and some junk.

I'm grumpy, dizzy, bitchy and angry. How is that different than any other time you ask? (Yes, Quacka, Cheesie, Kiwi, Bean and SweetieMeems I hearad yall) Because I bloody well say so that's why!

Stupid time change, stupid losing an hour in the a.m. damn well explaining to mother over the phone. Sheesh! Grrrr!! Auuuggh! I feel and sound like one of the adults on Charlie Brown until at least 9 a.m. and now with this crap, it's noon before I can contribute anything worthwhile without killing people. Okay, noon-ISH. *mutters* Fine, 4 p.m. but, really. Leave the time alone.

I am not a flippin farmer, I don't NEED to get up with the chickens. And if I ain't mistaken the damn chickens were still sleeping when I got up this morning at 6 a.m. which was 5 a.m. by my very pissed off body.

There oughta be a law. *sniffles* To top it all off, I'm still sick with the fever. I am now blaming the time change for that too! Neener!

I'm through ranting for now. Too dang sleepy.. pah!

Jenn

Country Road Take Me Home

To the place where I belongggg. *coughs*

Ok, be advised, mixing old time country music with a fever and cough meds is not a good thing. However, I will admit that my sinuses are at least a little looser now than they were 2 hours ago. I have been in the bed, lying down to recuperate from the feverishness that has plagued me for the past week. As always it gets worse in the early evenings. I don't know why, it just does. I'm a low temp type of person, so when it does go up, I go down for the count. Good thing that I had entertainment in the form of glittering Rhinestone Cowboys and all huh? Urm, yeah.

The thing is this: I'm a country girl, a redneck woman, all of that. Raised on Country Sunshine does not even begin to cover it. I've spent the last two hours on an emotional rollercoaster going high up into hysterical giggles with Harper Valley PTA only to fall way down low in the weepy slumps with Crazy, I Fall To Pieces and hell, just about any song Patsy Cline ever opened her mouth to sing.

When this is what you remember during the innocent times of your life, the time when your daddy still was THE king of your world and you were the lil princess, when mama was the bomb, the know all be all end all of your existence, then it cuts you down. It regresses you to a place where you never thought to revisit ever again. Then you hear it; He said I'll love you til I die.. She said You'll forget in time, and just OMG! I'm squalling my eyes out.

My father and I don't speak any more we haven't for almost four years now. It's something intensely private that I don't talk about, however, I can still remember riding in the big gray truck and him singing this song. See, my father has a wonderful voice. Our whole family on is a musical one. His brothers all play instruments, his sisters can all sing; its what southerners do, you know, for church goings. His voice is his instrument as he, like myself, was too stubborn or flighty to sit down to actual lessons. It's a beautiful one, rich, deep, and full of the pathos of living. So, when I hear Charlie Pride, Kenny Rogers, Marty Robbins, Hank Williams, Willie, Waylon, all of them, I hear my daddy. But, not the one I don't speak to anymore. No, I hear the daddy I love, the daddy I miss, the daddy that I still keep close in my heart.

This was something special he and I shared, the ability to carry a tune well enough to catch the notice of others. People comment on myself and my daughter now, jokingly saying that we are the Judds or whatever. So, we sang together, I can do harmonies because of this man, I know what an alto, tenor and a bass is, because of him. This, along with humor, and a love of the Grinch I can't shake.

So, here I sit all sniffly, and grumpy as old wounds have once again been ripped open by an old country tune and the sight of dead legends moving across the screen. Tammy, Johnny, Ray, Charlie, Waylon and now, Buck. I'll miss them all, and in the missing, I will also reminisce about my daddy.

Like Tricia Yearwood's song says: The Song Remembers When. It does, and it will reach out across decades to grab you and pull you right back to where you were that day. The day the sun was shining, the day you never even imagined it would all end. Ignorance? Maybe. Innocence, surely. Both are bliss.

So, *lifts glass* Here's to the daddy I once had, may he and I meet again one fine day. May the Circle Be Unbroken. Daddy sings bass, I sing tenor. Little bro takes after mama and is not invited to join.