Okay folks, let’s break this whole thing down as succinctly as possible without offending anyone since that seems to be the criteria for friendship these days.

In case you haven’t heard, we had a Presidential Election over here in the good old US of A. It’s something we do every 4 years and it comes with a 2 term limit. (In my opinion, every political position should have term limits but that’s for another day or, perhaps, never)
We The People cast our ballot then we cross our fingers hoping “our” candidate wins. There is a peaceful transfer of power on Inauguration Day and then we all go on with our lives.

Nah. I’m only kidding because it doesn’t work that way anymore.

Now it’s a free-for-all regardless of the outcome. I’ve lived through quite a few Presidential elections, I was a baby when John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated but I have a memory of crying adults and a sense of unity, then again, to my mini-brain, it was the exact day my cousin was born so I felt only happiness and love.
Until a few terms ago, I never paid attention to politics, it was something the adults talked about in quiet tones while my older brother and I would play “The Six O’clock News”, where we’d take turns making believe we were newscasters by coming up with our own news stories. It was one of the few times we’d take advantage and use the bed as a stage to stand on when it was our turn to announce the news of the day. Of course it always turned into an excuse to jump up and down on the bed, a children’s game I never understood but took full advantage of until I jumped so high I banged my head on the ceiling but again, another story for another day.

We The People are now tearing each other apart in the name of politics and it is breaking my heart. I look at the usual suspects of social media, Facebook, Twitter,and just about every comment section in nearly every site that allows comments. Not only is it scary, it’s a bloody blood-filled bloodbath everywhere I turn.

Lifelong friendships are being reduced to rubble, families are falling apart, and I’d wager the “unfollow” button has never been used as much as it has these days, all a result of this latest election.

I am not here to talk about who won, who lost, which Party has power, which Party is right on whatever the issue of the day is, although I believe these things are important to discuss.
What concerns me now is We The People and how we are treating each other.
And how we are treating each other right now is, dare I say, deplorable.

Personally, I have gone out of my way to keep my opinions to myself. I remember a time when who you voted for was pretty much a private thing, much like your religious beliefs. We were lulled into a deceptive sense of free speech meaning just that, freedom to say what you want short of yelling “fire” in a public place when there is no fire.

This is no longer the case in my opinion. Now we must first weigh our options, think about what we want to say, think it over again, and, at least in my case, wind up saying nothing.
Believe me, there isn’t much I love more than a good debate backed up by facts. I even enjoy playing “devil’s advocate” because I want to know all sides of whatever it is we’re talking about. I always thought it was a good thing to discuss different issues because usually, I learn something new I wasn’t previously aware of.
Now? As the kids say, NFW. No f***ing way.

I have good friends on both sides of the aisle. I don’t judge anyone by their vote as I believe we all have our own personal reasons for who we vote for. There is a reason we are given privacy when we cast our ballot. We have an obligation and a right to vote our conscience. There aren’t that many countries afforded the freedoms we have/had. We are lucky to be living here and yes, nearly every single one of us have ancestors who came through Ellis Island seeking a better life. I know mine did, most left Ireland and were greeted with signs that said “Irish need not apply” as well as other things too hostile to say. But that was the way of the world, so they did what they could to feed their family, inevitably working in the bowels of the earth coal mining. Black Lung disease took out quite a few of my people back then. But that was my experience, we all have our own stories.
Every single one of us is different, and every single one of us have different reasons for who we may or may not support.

What I don’t understand is this new test of friendship, if you voted for X then you are a racist bigot. If you voted for Y then you are a racist bigot. If you voted for X then you don’t know what you’re talking about and you are directly responsible for this, that, and the other thing. If you voted for Y then you don’t know what you’re talking about and you are directly responsible for this, that, and the other thing. If you voted for X you are “unfriended”. If you voted for Y then you are “unfriended”.
I’ve been watching silently as friends and family are giving up people they claim to love, but that love is not unconditional, that love is contingent, subject to change at the snap of a finger, that love now comes with a questionnaire that requires 100% agreement or you’re an evil racist bigot and that applies to both sides.

Think about it, imagine you were in a life threatening situation and needed a blood transfusion, or perhaps an organ donor.
Would you thank whoever that someone is willing to donate whatever it is you need to survive, or would you first ask their political affiliation and if it wasn’t the same as yours, would you turn down their offer to help save your life?
If your next door neighbor fell down in front of you, perhaps suffering a heart attack or a stroke, would you help them only if they voted the same way as you or would you step over their body and leave them to possibly die because they voted for Y when you voted for X?

What has become of us? When did we allow personal points of view to transform us into this mob mentality?
There is nothing in this world that 100% of people agree on. We are all different, we all have different needs and different ideas. The world is burning and We The People are being controlled, not by politicians as much as by the media.
The media is stirring up as much turmoil as they can in the name of money, going so far as to intentionally lie to further their own agenda, and their own agenda sure as hell isn’t We The People.
Celebrities, being paid obscene amounts of money are lecturing us, chiding us, encouraging civil discourse and who is suffering the most for this? We The People are, innocent Mom and Pop stores being set on fire, looted, destroyed just because people are riled up and taking their anger out on whatever is nearest to them, both sides of the aisle rumbling like they’re acting out West Side Story, not caring that this is real life being destroyed. Not seeing that we all bleed the same color. Not caring that we are being used, distracted by a media who no longer report facts without bias, and somehow all media outlets use the exact same buzzwords, the exact same phrases because they believe they are all knowing. They are the ones sitting in their expensive towers looking down at us, patting each other on the back because they’re stirring the pot so much we are reverting to primates, beating people to a bloody pulp on nothing more than an assumption that if you love your country you are a racist bigot.

Let’s face it, for the most part, people in power do not care about us. We The People have been reduced to voting blocks to further the agenda of the powers that be.
They don’t care that we are fighting amongst ourselves, in my opinion they are happy, the more discord, the more “news” they can report, leading to more discord, more fighting, more separation, more hatred and I’m sorry, but this is not who we are. They are controlling us and we are letting them get away with it.

Do you want to be politically involved? If so, it begins at the bottom. It begins with your local government. I live in a town where we have had the same Mayor for 16 years. Sure, he cares for the people so much he is driven around in a limousine everywhere he goes. He has bought up more than half the town, owning a good portion of local businesses but you have to dig deep to find out this information. We can’t just wake up every four years for the Presidential election, we should be involved from the bottom up if we truly care about the political system.
But most importantly, we need to stop the hostility towards each other. It’s ugly and accomplishes nothing but more division, more hatred and zero tolerance.

We The People need to realize we are one family. Yes, we can disagree, yes we can get frustrated, but I see nothing good coming out of the behavior I see grown adults engaging in, what kind of example are we setting for our children?
School age kids are fighting each other over politics because that is what they are seeing around them. Parents, teachers, neighbors being nasty to each other, these are some of the examples being set for young minds unable to completely understand the complexity involved in making that decision we make when we enter a voting booth.
They will have a lifetime of worry ahead of them, but we are taking away some of the pleasures of childhood and frankly, scaring the hell out of some of these innocent young minds.

When did we become so unaccepting of other points of view?
Are we going to continue down this path until we kill each other because we may disagree on one issue?

I used to believe we were a tolerant, accepting people. I used to believe we could have vigorous debates without being blacklisted, discarded, unfriended, ridiculed by people we thought were friends.

You may have noticed I have not stated who I voted for. Why? Because I am not here to endorse anyone, I am here to express my disappointment in We The People. You may think you know who I voted for, but you may be wrong.
You see, I personally don’t care who you voted for, you voted your conscience, you voted in your best interest as it should be. I will never judge you for who you vote for.
All I ask is that we all try to do the same.


My name is Joanne Best and I approve this message.

writing woman

I’m just the instrument in this one, I’m honored to post Maryanne’s leg of the Writing Process Blog Tour, so with no further ado, take it away Maryanne!

1.What are you working on?

I am now tweaking a fictitious chick lit love story that takes place in the 1980s called “Love Cats.” I’m thrilled that Cynthia Santiglia will be copyediting. She’s worked as copy editor with an author I highly admire, Lisa Carver, so it’s an honor that Cynthia took an interest in working for me!

2.How does your work differ from others of it’s genre?

For my first book, “On the Guest List: Adventures of a Music Journalist” it’s different than other rock ‘n’ roll memoirs because there’s no downward spiral into drugs and depression. (That’s how one of my endorsers, columnist and author Judy McGuire, put it!)

“On the Guest List” is an upbeat book with many fun stories. I don’t knock anyone. It’s just my perspective on life as a music journalist and it’s written to inspire other writers to tell their stories too.

For “Love Cats” it’s different than other chick lit fiction, I think, because it has the lead male role taking on the sensitive part and the female lead screwing up the relationship only because of her insecurities. The characters are real to life and I’d like to believe the story is unpredictable with first-time experiences and a slight element of danger that most 20-somethings experience.

It’s a fun and fast moving love story with growth. The moral is that people do change!

3.Why do you write what you do?

For my memoir “On the Guest List” – I was always told that I should write a book. I had a bunch of great stories and wanted to share the best of them that I thought others could relate to. I saw a similar book that was very negative. The author put down most of the people she bragged about meeting; which, to me, was very sad. My book comes from a place of admiration for not only the musicians I wrote about but all the people I’ve experienced some of the adventures with, those who were my “plus one.”

For my upcoming fictitious “Love Cats” I simply write what I know and then let the imagination run wild. But to make it 1980s authentic I did a lot of Google searching, as my memory is great but not that great!

4.How does your writing process work?

I write from my heart, then go back and edit. With “On the Guest List” I went through years of paper diaries and online diaries to pick out the best stories. I also consulted many of the people I wrote about, asking for their blessing. There’s a brother and sister in the book that were a grand part of my youth. They never answered my emails about whether or not I could use their names, so I just gave them fake names – either way, it’s an honor, they were cool kids!

For “Love Cats,” since it’s fiction, I just grab a glass of wine and then go for it! Since the book is also from a male perspective, I asked a friend for advice on the dialogue – “Is this how a guy would say something?” My friend is a screen writer from Massachusetts, Todd Gordon, and he’ll definitely be thanked in the book.

Maryanne Christiano-Mistretta

Author of “On the Guest List: Adventures of a Music Journalist”

Pear Tree Enterprises

HOURS: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (Mon. to Fri.)


In continuing with the Writers Process Blog Tour, I am honored to (re)introduce you to someone I look up to, someone who inspires me every day in every way. Maryanne is as beautiful inside as she is on the outside. Here’s a little bit of information about her to be followed by Maryanne’s leg of the Blog Tour.
Maryanne Christiano-Mistretta has been writing professionally since 1995. She’s a self-employed award-winning writer and public speaker. Her work has appeared in The Paterson Press, Westfield Alternative Press, Millburn-Short Hills Alternative Press, South Orange Alternative Press, Maplewood Alternative Press, Suburban Essex, The Patch, The Montclair Times, The Jersey City Independent, Skinny News, NJ Health & Fitness, The Aquarian Arts Weekly (which was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, April 2012), The West Sider, The Chelsea Clinton News,, Tattoo Review, Punk Magazine, and Exit, to name a few.

Her first book “On the Guest List: Adventures of a Music Journalist” is available on Amazon.

Maryanne lives in Union County, New Jersey, with her husband and cat, Derick. Other interests include: music, health/fitness and public speaking.

Her website is:

Maryanne Christiano-Mistretta

Author of “On the Guest List: Adventures of a Music Journalist”

Pear Tree Enterprises

HOURS: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (Mon. to Fri.)




The sweetest alien fell to the earth and man, can she write! Last week Ali asked me to participate in a Blog Tour. I said yes before I knew what I was saying yes to, that’s how much I love Ali. I didn’t realize what an honor it was to be asked until I realized I was going to be writing about my writing process. I am very honored to involved in The Writing Process Blog Tour, and delighted to be able to pass it on. Here’s a link to Ali’s blog, and with no further ado, let us commence.

1.) What are you working on?
Too many things at once! Oh wait, sorry, I think I’m supposed to keep that to myself so I don’t sound scatterbrained and unorganized. Ahem.
Truth is I have a few irons in the fire right now, I’m spending a lot of my fiction-writing time fine tuning a novel length urban fantasy about a girl and her Muse who get caught up in an Apocalyptic war amongst the Djinn. I’m also working on a vampire romance as well as my own version of the Persephone Myth but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to keep myself away from writing poetry/prose. I just love to write, and writing here, on my blog, gives me an opportunity to play with words. Ok I cannot tell a lie, my most serious, now off-line project I’m working on is The Tower Story, about a girl surviving the apocalypse in Cape May NJ and I was afraid I’d jinx it if I said it. I think there’s a special unjinx thingy if you’re being honest though. Did I mention I’m unemployed and allocate my time? Still sound scatterbrained? I’m more organized than I sound. Really!

2.) How does your work differ from others of its genre?
In my opinion, regardless of what we write, we can’t help but be influenced by our own life experiences. Does that mean I’ve had experiences with vampires or Djinn? While I’d love to answer that with a resounding yes, unfortunately I haven’t, so that’s where the making-stuff-up part comes into play. I know that there are countless excellent books out there written in the same genre that I’m drawn to and it’s important that my own style shines through. I believe the sum of my parts have given me a multifaceted unique view of the world, therefore I believe I have a multifaceted unique voice. It’s important to me that the words I write be relatable to each reader, so while I may be writing about vampires or Djinn or crazy mad Muses, I try to humanize them to a certain degree.

3.) Why do you write what you do?
I guess for the most part I write what I would like to read. I’ve been an avid reader from the start and was lucky enough to have access to an endless amount of books. Most of my employment history consists of managing bookstores but even as a kid I always had a book with me wherever I went. I’ve been known to sit alone in a corner reading while a loud band was playing in a club. Those novels later turned to blank books as I began to write song lyrics. A lot of what I write comes from observing anything and everything, then filling in the blanks, but I’ve always been drawn to all things paranormal and apocalyptic. Maybe it’s partly from being a Baby Boomer who remembers getting into position under my school desk when we had Air Raid Drills, or some of the apocalyptic images burned in my brain from Catholic School and Revelations. I still remember being a kid and dreaming about the end of the world and thinking about surviving it, going so far as to dig myself a little shelter in the clay pits up the street, complete with shelves, tables, and a sleeping area. When I was really young, maybe 7 or 8 years old I would kneel on the backseat of the car on the drive back from Grandma’s house and pretend the car lights behind us were dragons or monsters chasing after us and all the cars ahead of us had already gotten away safe and we were the next in line. In my tiny little mind I knew the only way we’d get home safe was if I kept watching them so I wouldn’t take my eyes off those monster-lights till we got off the Parkway, for some reason, off the Parkway was the safe zone. I’d dream of Angels and then I’d dream of vampires. One vampire dream was so real I actually checked my neck the following morning as the dream took place in my room with me dressed in the same clothes I fell asleep in, and I woke up feeling drained. I was only 16 when I had that dream. Although I would read anything about anything when I was a kid, I gravitated towards the paranormal direction, so I guess it’s only natural that my writing is influenced by my favorite books. If I had to pick one book that influenced my writing choices/needs, it would be The Stand by Steven King; it’s got all my favorites, an apocalypse, a battle between Good and Evil, mystical magical happenings… yeah, that book left a big impression on me.

4.) How does your writing process work?
My writing process is pretty simple, I just write. I write what I want to read for the most part. My blog is a big part of my writing process because I can experiment, try different things as I search for my voice. I try to push myself to do things I’m not comfortable with, for example, dialogue: it’s been a fear of mine so I force myself to write dialogue as much as possible. I’m also grateful for the theater classes I took throughout high school because I’m able to step into my characters shoes, so to speak, it helps me especially with dialogue and enables me to look at things in a different way than the actual “me” might. I’ve heard writers talk about whether the plot drives the character or the character drives the plot, I try to let the characters move the plot along rather than the other way around. Oh who am I kidding, the characters usually don’t give me a choice! When I’m doing some of my best writing it’s like the characters are just using my fingers to tell their story. And when things like that happen, it’s a very good thing.

5.) Say who is on next week (up to three people you would tag), and provide a bio and link to their website).
I hate to be a copycat, but as with sweet Ali, I’m still on the waiting part with my fellow hoppers, and will unfortunately have to add them here or write another post tomorrow. I didn’t want to wait to post this so I’m looking at it this way; now we have more time to read sweet Ali’s post, as well as Silverleaf’s, and hop around their blogs before hopping around some others 😀 Although it may be a day late, I guarantee it’ll be worth the wait.



Real life has been in my way lately, as well as an awful lot of no internet from this stupidly beyond cold winter, so I haven’t been around these parts too much lately, not like I don’t want to be, just lifestuff. Anyway, timing and fate led me to The War In My Brain’s blog (I suck at links, forgive me)
where I found this fun list of 50 questions about yourself. There’s a link there to where the questions originally (I think) came from. So I thought I’d play along, and highly encourage everyone to play along. It’s a fun little way to get to know each other a little bit more, just random questions, nothing earthshattering but it was kinda cool playing along.
Here’s to a round of Getting To Know Me (a bit) in 50 Questions, so with no further ado, I present to you, Answers to 50 Questions About Me. My regularly scheduled schedule will return soon, if the winter starts to cooperate that is. In the meanwhile, why don’t you give it a go? I’d love to read your answers, plus it’s fun learning more about people, yes? I don’t know what ‘pingbacks’ or ‘trackbacks’ actually are, like, are there rules and stuff? I just want to make sure I don’t miss anyone’s answers and I think they’re all connected somehow and stop laughing at me ’cause I don’t know, I just type.
My Mom came from an Irish Catholic family, seven siblings and as they married and had kids, every child born before me was
a boy. When I finally came along I was the first girl amongst a bunch of boy cousins (and brother) so my Mom named me after
my Grandfather Joseph and my Grandmother Anne. Middle name Bridget, was my Mom’s middle name, Grandmother’s middle name and Great-Grandmother’s name.

I’ve always been a crybaby, tears would flow over anything and everything. But the last time I really cried was when my Mom
died in April. Since then, I’ve been pretty much frozen and unable to cry. I wish I could.

Sometimes. I went to Catholic School for eight years, back when penmanship was part of the curriculum and we were graded on
our handwriting. I’m capable of writing beautifully if I take the time, but my handwriting changes when I’m in a hurry. I’m
also able to replicate other people’s handwriting easily enough to have kept myself out of trouble when I was in school and
had to have something signed by my Mom or Dad. But I always felt guilty about it and would end up telling on myself. I mean
after enough time had passed.

If I can only pick one I have to go with thinly sliced roast beef, the bloodier the better. Add some mayo and a pinch of
salt on either a hard roll or one slice of bread lightly toasted (toasted so I slice it down the middle and poof, two
pieces of bread out of one because, carbs)and there ya go, a perfect sandwich!

No kids, just three cats; two tabby sisters- Drusilla and Anyanka, and one male Siamese Lynx Point named Mr. Big.

Yes I would actually, I’m kinda cool while remaining humble about it. 😉

Who? Me?? Sarcastic??? That would be a big fat yes. I’m also drawn to people who are blessed with the gift of sarcasm.

Nope. I had my tonsils removed when I was around two and a half years old and for some reason I still remember what I was
wearing on the way to the hospital; a blue plaid skirt and a blue fuzzy sweater. I don’t remember much more than that other
than standing up in a hospital crib/bed thingy crying and eating ice cream.

No thank you. Not unless it’s a life-saving situation but never would I jump for fun.

Captain Crunch or Sugar Pops if we’re talking cold cereal. Hot cereal would be farina or blueberry crème instant oatmeal.

I rarely wear shoes with laces but when I do I usually untie the laces first, unless I’m too tired or feeling lazy.

Physically I’m a lot stronger than I look, emotionally, I tend to waiver depending on the situation.

If I have to pick just one I’d have to say vanilla but only if we’re talking ice cream. Breyers chocolate or Ben and Jerry’s
Cherry Garcia are right up there with vanilla.

Usually their eyes, but also their general posture, as in whether or not they feel comfortable with their own damn self.

Unfair! Red and pink.

My inability to stand up for myself, I am much too tolerant and have a tendency to let people get away with treating me like
garbage yet I would go through hell to stand up for others.

Without question, my Mom.

Nope. Nothing against them but not for me.

Hmmm, depends on your definition of “hobbies”; I write, I read, I take photos… I guess singing in a band is sort of a
hobby, collecting Christmas ornaments is a thing, going to Cape May has always been my dictionary definition of a hobby
but now that my Mom is gone I can’t imagine going without her. Oh! I know! Collecting all things Buffy The Vampire Slayer!

At the moment, black Uggs.

Raviolis leftover from last night but I’m about to eat a gigantic Angus-burger which I’ll be lucky if I eat half of it since
it’s a half pound burger from the new burger joint down the street. It’s takeout Friday, they deliver, and I’m hankering for
a good medium/well cheeseburger.

The sound of three drunk men drifting up the stairway as they listen to recordings of their last rehearsal. Loud. Drunk.

Blue. Or red. Maybe pink. Or black. Can I just go with the whole box? The large one with the most colors.

The ocean, coffee(love the smell, hate the taste),autumn, snow before it falls, dirt after it rains, grass after it’s mowed,
pine trees, cinnamon, the candles my Mom used to burn.

My Father.

Beach house all the way, contrary to popular belief, despite that damn show The Jersey Shore, the Jersey shore really is
gorgeous, beautiful, magnificent, and where I belong.

I don’t really watch sports, although I used to like watching baseball. The only thing sports related I like watching is ice
skating and maybe gymnastics sometimes but only when the Olympics are on.

Red, as red as I can possibly get it; to be fair, I was born blond and as I grew up it began to turn an auburn/brown. I just
helped make it more red. Truth? I once bleached it blond and I mean blond because I wanted to see if it was true, if
blonds really do get more attention (it’s true), then took advantage of the blond by playing with colors (blue, purple, and
other shades of red) until I got back to my original red.

Varying shades of blue, sometimes almost green.

Ack! I just can’t with the whole sticking in the eye thing so I stick to glasses when I have to wear them to drive, but
usually wear sunglasses just because.

Hot sweet milky tea, I could live on tea. But a plate of fried scallops from The Lobster House in Cape May is Heaven on a
plate. And have you tried their chocolate peanut butter brownies with chocolate icing, a swirl of peanut buttery
crème and a peanut butter cup on top?

Scary movies with happy endings. Like Joss Whedon-happy endings.

Either Much Ado About Nothing or CBGB:The Movie, I watched them both around the same time in the comfort of my bed.


Autumn really, but better hot than freezing so, summer.

Hugs that turn into kisses.

Chocolate mousse. No, crème brulee. Maybe cheesecake.

Umm… I’ll have to get back to you on that.

Really??? Television. On my computer.

About 3 or 4 different books because I’m a lunatic but let’s go with Up From The Grave by Jeaniene Frost because I bought it yesterday and couldn’t help myself, I’ve been waiting for this for so long I had to dive right in but I haven’t read much more than a chapter so far.

Don’t use a mouse so no mouse pad.

The right voice saying the right things. And the ocean.

Used to be the Stones but I recently realized it’s The Beatles.

Chicago, when my younger brother graduated from boot camp.

Oh yeah…

Montclair New Jersey USA

Carteret New Jersey when I’m not in Sayreville New Jersey

White with blue shutters.

Maroon and not my awesome dark green Cadillac and I don’t care how fast it goes or that it’s newer and makes that vroom noise I love so much and it’s sportier blah blah blah, I want my green Cadillac back! Curse you Northstar engines!!!

Sure, give me 50 more, this is fun!

So there you have it, 50 questions asked and answered, all about me. How ’bout you? And you? Up for it? C’mon, tell us 50 things about you. Please and thank you.
AUTHORS NOTE: I’m not an actor nor do I play one on TV, but the Prompt wants me to answer these questions as if I were Inside The Actor’s Studio, so here ya go!

1.What is your favorite word?
I have quite a few favorite words but my current favorite word is ‘alignment’.
2.What is your least favorite word?
My least favorite word is ‘no’
3.What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
The little things in life, love, humor, my cats, Cape May, encouragement from people who truly care about me.
4.What turns you off?
The division and seemingly intentional destruction happening in my country (USA) and the lack of respect running rampant, especially toward the elderly.
5.What is your favorite curse word?
My favorite curse word, like my favorite word, changes from day to day, today my favorite curse word seems to be ‘fucking asshole’.
6.What sound or noise do you love?
I love the sound of silence, as well as the sound of certain voices able to make me melt
7.What sound or noise do you hate?
I hate the sound of ignorant people arguing about things they don’t know about, people who think that if they talk louder it makes them right
8.What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
If I had to pick something that didn’t involve creativity in some form I would like to be a politician, to prove that politics can be ethical
9.What profession would you not like to do?
Anything that involves heights or bridges
10.If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
When I arrive at those Pearly Gates I would like to hear God say “Welcome, all your friends and family are waiting for you to join them. And go see Michael, you need a haircut and he’s great with the shears.”

AUTHORS NOTE: When we last left our Catt in the desert she was tied to a chair being blamed for the coming apocalypse by a hyena-turned-woman, possibly a dominatrix of the Djinn kind, who, like everyone else, wanted something from her. Also, in honor of my 300th post, a random challenge for no reason: what song did I steal borrow  the title of this chapter from, anyone? ;-D
She continues to stare at me unflinching.
A frozen furious Djinn stare increasing in intensity as each soundless second ticks slowly away.
I’m petrified, I want to be anywhere but here. Even though she’d released the tight ropes from my wrists and ankles I’m too scared to move yet, what’s a few more moments in the un-comfy chair?
Her stare is unnerving, both diabolical and seductive.
I start to squirm but not in a good way, the diabolical is overruling the seductive so I do the only thing I can do, I babble.
It’s a nervous habit I have and it’s going to be the death of me. Death by babble.
“Umm, yeah, so uh, about that door you mentioned, the one I accidentally opened? Really, really sorry about that by the way… so the thing about that door is, I uh, well, actually I have no idea what door you’re talking about, like at all and are you sure I’m the one who opened it up because I don’t remember opening any weird doors lately, uh, not that your door is weird, what I mean is I don’t even know how to open a door, I mean I can open a regular door like in a house but I think you’re talking about a magic door or, umm, I, uh….”
My voice fades and she is not amused at all.
I hear Jann standing next to me mumbling “don’t you ever shut up” in my direction and shoot him a dirty look.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She leans in closer to my face, her long sin-scented hair tickles my mouth as she continues to stare at me with those swirling Djinn eyes of hers. Her voice is surprisingly soft, husky, deceptive.
All I can do is swallow audibly.
She is the definition of frightening. She also has a kick-ass fashion sense.
Oh no, I’m developing Stockholm syndrome! Where the hell is my Muse when I really need her?
“Whose side are you on? What side do you work for?” She snaps out the words, her breath smells of restrained lust and she’s angry.
Shit, now what? “Work for? I don’t work for anyone.”
I can see by the sudden flames in her eyes this is not the answer she wants and my babble comes back.
“Well I was laid off a few months ago so I don’t really have a job right now…the economy is pretty bad the last few years, there aren’t too many jobs out there, this healthcare thing is very confusing, but I’ve got my resume all over the place and, uh…” By the look on her face, this babbling thing wasn’t working. “Oh, you weren’t asking about my employment status…”
“Tell me.” She grabs one of my hands very ungently, her nails drawing blood.
“Who sent you? Where did you get those bottles?” Her beautifully delicate hand is pretty fucking strong as she grips mine tightly.
“Answer me.” Her voice drips a lusty condescension as she squeezes so hard I swear I can hear the cracking of tiny finger bones. Mine.
She’s right in my face and I’m petrified, but does my fear stop my mouth from disobeying my better instincts to shut up?
“Hey! You’re gonna break my fingers bitch!”
It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Jann, now standing behind her, gasped at my outburst.
Shit, I really pissed her off this time.
“What did you call me?” She actually growled at me.
“She called you a bitch, want me to spell it out for you?”
I never thought I’d be so happy to hear that voice again.
Especially when my Muse was sporting her pre-ass-kicking voice.
~to be continued…

{July 2, 2013}   What I Learned Yesterday

Yesterday we were inundated with non-stop seemingly never-ending torrential rain here in my little part of the world.
New Jersey isn’t known for tornados but yesterday one of those suckers swept into town, lucky for me it was a few miles away. Not so lucky for the folks who were taken unawares but thankfully nobody was hurt, just a lot of trees down and that sort of thing.
I’ve already had my fill of natural disasters, between Hurricane Irene and Hurricane Sandy my tiny little state has seen enough destruction to last a lifetime and the approaching hurricane season does nothing to calm my nerves.

So what did I learn yesterday?
Well, my internet was outernet all day long.
It sucked.
Not even my fancy-shmancy computer-in-a-phone responded to my constant caress which started out lovingly and increased in intensity until I was tempted to throw said phone through the nearest window I could find.
But I didn’t.

In summation:
1.Weather sucks when it knocks out the internet.
2.Without the internet my writing slows to a complete halt.
3.My email continues to pile up and there’s nothing to do about it until the internet comes back on.

The lesson?
Don’t waste time when the internet is working properly. Write always whenever you can because even the harshest Muse can not control the internet or lack thereof.
Here endeth the lesson.

{May 21, 2013}   Spam

What’s up with that spam stuff?
Not the kind that comes in a can, but the comments that appear in my spam folder thingy.
I don’t get it.
There’s these comments saying ‘whoo-hoo! you’re the best writer in the entire galaxy and I love what you wrote blah-blah-blah-cakes’ but these so-called ‘comments’ are in the spam file next to little bubbles that say ‘you’re a loser because you had zero views on this post ya big loser’. Or something to that effect.
Believe me, I’m not a numbers kinda gal, I tend to write for myself and if somebody else reads my words that’s a bonus, bigger bonus if someone likes what I wrote obviously but why this thing called spam and why tell someone you liked what they wrote when you didn’t even read it?
Am I that internet-un-savvy or what?
And for the record, I don’t even like spam in a can.
Although I do like that Monty Python bit about spam but who doesn’t?
I’m casting my vote for a spam-less world, cause I just don’t get it.

Now can I get back to my regularly scheduled word-spewing?

{May 19, 2013}   Cup Of Reaction

where did you come from
where do you go
what was your outcome
do you think that it shows
it’s not complicated
just hard to explain
uncalculated with a brain new refrain
the answer is easy, desire or fear
a cup of reaction with a drop of sincere

were you doing the two-step
dancing on ice
was there the usual roadblock on the way to paradise
a deer in the headlights
slam on the brakes
multilevel pileup or an icy mistake
did you swallow desire with a chaser full of fear
how ’bout a cup of reaction with a drop of sincere

so pull up a chair and let me pour you some tea
gotta couple of questions you can answer for me
they’re not complicated, when the highway is clear
when you’re going full throttle
and there’s no puppeteer
just rev up the engine and slam it in gear
and have a cup of reaction with a drop of sincere

et cetera