Happy 2010

Happy 2010. You deserve the best so take it.

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I wonder…

…if I had not been thrown out of the Girl Guides, justifiably so, when I was 11, would I be a different person? Why do I ponder this? Well, I heard on the news that the centenary of the Girl Guide movement is to be celebrated in 2010 in Oz. It’s a very good organization…if you can follow the rules. I often wonder if I was a rule follower would life be different or even easier. I tend to think people who follow the rules have an easier life. Do you agree? Disagree? I just think sometimes it’s better to do as you are told. I just can’t seem to make that a reality. Maybe it’s genetic. My grandfather was a conscientious objector because he couldn’t see the point of war. It made life hard for him and his family but in the spirit of my family he said ‘bugger it, I’m not going to follow what everyone else thinks.’ I agree.

I was also thrown out of Girls Bridge when I was 8. Looking back, I can see why my mother was not really surprised at either dumping. In her words ‘those people/groups are beneath you.’ Whether they were or not is irrelevant. My mother declared they were and frankly that’s all that was important. No one gave her children a hard time. I always remember when we landed in a new school for the umpteenth time and the school nitwit, I mean counselor, said to my mother ‘your daughter will never get far in life’. My mother rose to her 5 foot 3 inches and told him to bugger off. Apparently he had a problem with army brats not conforming. I can’t think why. Any kid – army or not – who has been dragged from pillar to post learns quickly attitude will save your arse every time and school counselors are to be mind gamed.

Why did I get thrown out of the Guides for? I was smoking – no, I have never smoked since – and, oh and we may have used the charity money we collected to buy lollies(candy). And Girls Brigade? Well, at 8 years old I had, and still have, a blasphemy problem. I’m bad…bad to the bone…

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Fate is a bitch…

Just when I’m on fire and all ready to do something, fate stumbles into my life and says I’m going to make this as hard as possible for you, with a staggering degree of difficulty that will endanger and the past worry you felt before will be nothing to what you feel now.

Fate can only be a bitch ‘cause only a woman has the creativity to throw such amazing obstacles in my path. I don’t know whether to admire fate or snot it for being such a cow.

I don’t know…despite overwhelming need, maybe some things you’re just not meant to do…

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Warlock…

I got this email from a gentleman – a male witch - who pointed out the use of ‘warlock’ to a male witch was a derogatory term and I shouldn’t use it as it was offensive. This came about due to my book release called ‘I Don’t Think So’…see blurb below…

When dashing warlock Thomas Darcy suddenly appears in Mariette Jane’s home announcing he needs her help, she knows he is lying. She is a facilitator between worlds. She is used to supernatural beings seeking her aid. But this man is different. His story does not ring true. So what’s going on and why is she suddenly having hot, delicious sex with the suckable warlock?

Thomas is lying. He has been sent to subdue Mariette Jane but he’s not sure why. He was only told of her threat to all warlock kind. But it’s hard to subdue someone you want to have lick all over and slide inside. The more he is with Mariette, the deeper Thomas becomes involved. Saving her beautiful ass becomes his prime objective.

I completely respect the right for everyone to have an opinion that may differ to mine. I love getting emails from readers who feel they can email me about any subject. I’m pleased this gentleman felt he could email me. But – and there always is one – while this gentleman has his views, I have mine. ‘I Don’t Think So’ is a work of fiction. It’s not real. The characters are out of my head. They live in a world I made up. I chose to call Thomas a ‘warlock’ because it fits this fictitious hero. I respect that there are male witches and female witches. But my characters are not real and do not fit into the world real witches inhabit. One world is reality and the other is Amarinda fantasy.

Never stop having an opinion but not everyone has to agree with it.

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Ah romance....

I flicked on to You Tube to look at something and the clip below came up in my “Recommendations for Amarinda” page. I enjoyed it immensely. Romance is a wondrous thing.



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Star crossed lovers…

I’ve been thinking some on the concept of star crossed lovers – you know, two lovers who are passionately enamored of the other but circumstances of fate keep them apart. Think Romeo and Juliet or Abelard and Heloise….of course the first pair topped themselves and the other pair? Well castration and a nunnery put the kybosh on that romance. Yeah, maybe not great examples but you get my drift – you can love someone but it doesn’t guarantee a happy ever after.

So, why are we so interested in star crossed lovers? Is it because you just know in the end they can never be together and we need to have a good cathartic cry? Maybe we want to be all Jiminy Cricket and hope they can overcome all odds? Or maybe we wonder about our own ‘one’ who could never be? Maybe we believe love should conquer all and true loves should be together. Maybe we need to have a reality check.

I worry that we’re too hooked on the need for love to be tied up in pretty ribbons. While I believe star crossed lovers exist, I also reckon life is a crapshoot and sometimes love does not conquer all no matter how badly you want it to. So star crossed or cross eyed – take the blinkers off when it comes to love.

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Hope...

When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time." ~~Author Unknown

I love this line “I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.”



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http://www.nightowlromance.com/nightowlromance/reviews/Review.aspx?daoid=5322

How nice to know my suckability factor is negligible. Thanks NOR

http://www.nightowlromance.com/nightowlromance/reviews/Review.aspx?daoid=5322

I wish you peace…

Whatever you believe or feel or think this holiday break – be at peace, do what’s right for you and accept nothing less than what you deserve.

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OMG...

So, I’m sitting at work, doing crapacious stuff and wishing the day away, when Mary the receptionist comes into my office and says “who’s a lucky girl?” I said “the Queen of England as she has never had to work for a living.” Anyway, Mary hands me a bottle of plonk (wine) in stylish bottle holder. “You’re the lucky one.’ I pull the plonk out. Hooley frigging dooley it’s a bottle of Moet! I love and adore champagne. If I had a child it would be called Champagne Jones. Anyway I opened the envelope and for the life of me I cannot work out the signature on the card. It’s male but that’s all I know. I instantly send mobile phone (cell phone) pictures to all the incredibly smart women I know to show it off and then I scan the card to see if anyone can decipher the signature. No one can. Curiouser and curiouser. So I have a bottle of fantastic champagne, which I adore, from an unknown man. Who’s a lucky girl?

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Temptation…

“Lead me not into temptation; I can find the way myself.” Rita Mae Brown

What is it about some people that you just can’t let go of? They’re as wrong for you as they’re right. You want to avoid them yet you keep talking them, in an effort, of course, to prove to yourself how very little they mean to you. And the thing is you don’t want forever with them - it’s the thrill of just now that is so appealing. Oh yeah, I have no problems finding temptation.

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It’s all about passion…

I watched Consuming Passion a BBC production based on Mills & Boon. It was very interesting as it addressed exactly the issues on why women read romance books. It comes down to two things – passion and the need to feel wanted. Romance books are not about undermining women’s rights or making men feel inferior for not measuring up to the Doctor-Sheik-Highlander-Tycoon-Vampire-Cowboy. It’s all about the human desire to need and be needed. I can’t see a problem with that.



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Peace on Earth....

This song reminds me more about peace on earth than any pretty Christmas carol. Pity we still can’t get it right.



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The office Christmas party…

…was today. No, I didn’t go. Why not? Well I could either have gone and watched people drink their weight in free alcohol – this is not possible as I tried that when I was around 19 – 22 or I could have the half day off and do whatever the hell I wanted. I choose door number 2 thanks, Bob. Several people at work asked how did I get out of going to the party. I said two magical words “no thanks.” I cannot understand why people feel they have to always say yes and go along with the crowd even though they don’t want to.

Did anyone get upset with my declining the invite? No. Would I have cared if they did? No. Life is too short to do what you don’t want to do. Two words…no thanks.

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You never know…

...what someone is thinking. I went to have another blood test today. I had my form and I got my number in the queue and waited for my name to be called. It was 7am, before work, and they only had two people taking blood. One woman seemed nice and the other, a complete bitch on wheels. Everyone kept rolling their eyes when she came out and called the next name. It seemed like she had a stick wedged firmly up her arse. She looked cranky. She sounded cranky. The woman beside me said “I hope I don’t get her.” She didn’t. I did. Bitch versus bitch. One cancels the other out.

So I said “what’s going on? You seemed pissed.” Now, if you know me this straight up talk with a stranger is not surprising. The woman said “you’re the first person who has cared enough to ask.” I pointed no one with any sense prods a tiger in a cage…unless it’s me…and also that she had a really sharp needle and my arm in her keeping and I felt I had the right to ask her what the hell was up. Do you know what the problem was? She sprayed hairspray in her eye before work and she was in pain. I could see her eye was pretty red and sore looking. I mentioned it was an excellent time to be involved in the task of finding and skewering veins. She said ‘I just stab and hope for the best.’ I got a lollipop because I ‘cared enough to ask’. She added she planned on scaring everyone for the rest of the day until her eye got better. I said mention the ‘stab and hope for the best’ thing as it was most excellent and scary.

My point? Why don’t we just stop and ask people what’s wrong if there appears to be a problem? Or is it we don’t give a crap about anyone else? There is usually a simple answer to everything and occasionally we have to step outside the square and ask.

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Plaster Obama

I was in Woolies (Woolworths) grocery shopping and I came across a plaster Obama. I love tacky stuff like this. One, because it’s kitsch and kitsch is beautiful in an ugly odd way – a bit like myself – and these things – as ghastly as they are – appreciate in value. It made the whole day worthwhile. A friend suggested putting him in my new office. I don’t want to personalize the office. Why? I want it to be purely for work and nothing else. Work will never be my life.

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Transiting by the side door….

Eternal nothingness is fine if you happen to be dressed for it ~Woody Allen
Yeah, I’d go along with that. It’s a tad boring at the moment. My runes tell me I am in a state of transition. They just don’t tell me when that ends. Ancient wisdom is slow and pernickety.

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It just occurred to me...

...that I'm over romance and sex. What's that called? Oh yes - reality. Reality is good. I recommend it.

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The lemonade stand...

Okay, so you make up gallons of lemonade and you think ‘I’m going to set up a lemonade stand and sell my product on the sidewalk.’ People start to buy and you’re doing very, very well. Someone comes along, let’s call them the XYZ company, and says ‘for a commission we’ll help you sell your product to a wider market.’ You think that’s sounds good and you give them the right to do so. They then keep asking for more and more product and they keep putting it on the market at a faster and faster rate. The faster you make the product the faster the XYZ company snaps it up. They are really very, very nice to you. It makes your head spin…ding! Ding! Warning Will Robinson…

Suddenly you start to feel uneasy. Other freelance lemonade stand people start to tell you that their cut of the profits from the XYZ company have disappeared and they are cranky and worried. You don’t want to believe it. Sure, the XYZ company has been going through upheaval but what company hasn’t in the current world economy? So you write it off as other lemonade stand people whining about nothing. Then it suddenly happens to you. WTF. Where is the money? From plethora to dearth in a nano second. You ask questions. You get told it’s all your fault. You’re not sure how it is – because only piss-weak people push blame back without reason - so you keep asking as you come from an accounts background and you know lemons from oranges. Why are you, XYZ company, buying more and more lemonade from me and shoving it onto the market at lightning speed if you’re making no money out of it? That seems pretty fucking dumb business and suspect. They give no answer other than a politely veiled ‘shut up.’ Rarely one to shut up, you persist with questions.

And then naturally, you do the only thing you can. You withdraw product. You request cancellation of all lemonade related contracts as you have no faith in these people running the lemonade stand business. Trust and money go hand in hand. Lesson learned. People will screw you to save themselves.

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From hmm…to…huh…

Hmm…I have a book released today – Decatur the Vampire. I wrote this book in October and whizz-bang-presto it’s being released in December when another book of mine is also being released in December, less than 2 weeks later, by the same publisher. We live in weird arsed times and yes, I did question it but apparently there is no answer that makes sense on this planet. If you know a sufficiency weird/off the wall answer for this - email me on amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au I’ll put you in the draw to win one of two copies of Decatur the Vampire. Contest ends Tuesday 15th December.

Now to huh…I have mangoes on the back yard tree…lots of them. In normal drought free times the tree is full of mangoes at this time of year. We haven’t had normal in about 10 years. I have been holding my breath watching these little beauties. But they look set to survive. In another couple of weeks they’ll be ripe. There are 100’s of ‘em. Yum. Everyone I know will be getting mangoes, mango juice, frozen mango pulp…

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Sex and the stupid....

I overheard two women as I got out of the car at work. They thought it was ‘terrible’ how the media was hounding Tiger Woods over his multiple affairs. Well, frankly the man has spent a huge percentage of his life in the public spotlight so having an affair knowing that he is under media scrutiny if he sneezes…what the hell did he expect? Yes, he is a human being. Yes, he is flawed like the rest of us but for god sake like any other bugger on the planet, if you make a mistake then you have to wear it – famous or not.

This is what I know…

- don’t screw around on your partner if you aren’t ready to get caught.
- Don’t get married if can’t handle monogamy
- If you’re famous and one person announces they sleep with you then another dozen will also claim the same thing whether they have or not.
- You’re partner has every right to kick your cheating arse out the door.
- Sex is not the be all and end all of life.

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I love a good argument…

….no, not the knock down drag out sort or the screaming rage filled kind. And god no, not those psychopathic people who start blog wars for no reason other than their knickers are in a twist. So nope, none of that crap. I like a really good battle of wits where you and your opponent are constantly trying to confuse the other into speechlessness. I really admire people who can argue the devil and at the end of it all just laugh and remain friends or careful enemies. I admire people who mentally make me jump through hoops as I try to think what to say to keep up or be as equally as provocative. If someone can make me speechless, I am annoyed yet pleased. It’s not about aggression – it’s more about passion and attitude and feeling exhilarated after you’ve both cooled your jets. Sigh. There are so few of these people around. I am having argument withdrawal at the moment. Give me one person with attitude and a smart mouth and I’ll be happy. Bring it on.

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Is sex worth the effort?

I was driving to work listening to the car radio – Brisbane 97.3FM – and they had this snippet on….

“Check out what women used to be told in the dark old past about how to be a proper wife in this excerpt from a 1960's Home Economics textbook.

Once you have both retired to the bedroom prepare yourself for bed as promptly as possible. Whilst feminine hygiene is of the utmost importance your tired husband does not want to queue for the bathroom as he would have to do for his train. But remember to look your best when going to bed. Try to achieve a look that is welcoming without being obvious. If you need to apply face-cream or hair-rollers wait until he is asleep as this can be shocking to a man last thing at night.

When it comes to the possibility of intimate relations with your husband it is important to remember your marriage vows and in particular your commitment to obey him. If he feels that he needs to sleep immediately then so be it. In all things be lead by your husband's wishes, do not pressure him in any way to stimulate intimacy. Should your husband suggest congress then accede humbly all the while being mindful that a man's satisfaction is more important than a woman's. When he reaches his moment of fulfillment a small moan from yourself is encouraging to him and quite sufficient to indicate any enjoyment that you may have had. Should your husband suggest any of the more unusual practices, be obedient and uncomplaining but register any reluctance by remaining silent.

It is likely that your husband will then fall promptly asleep so adjust your clothing, freshen up and apply your night time face and hair care products. You may then set the alarm so that you can arise shortly before him in the morning. This will enable you to have his morning cup of tea ready when he awakes.”

http://www.973fm.com.au/misc/unfiledarticles.asp?articleid=6018

Yep. I’m sure we all do this… I like the “small moan from yourself is encouraging to him and quite sufficient to indicate any enjoyment that you may have had.” Hmmmm…all that hard work doesn’t seem worth it. Probably this is why in some of those old TV shoes the married couples always had twin beds…in fact, I think I’d insist on it if these rules applied.

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Leaping....

Leap and the net will appear ~ Zen proverb

....I'm really going to try and believe this today

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Lustful dilemma…

Supply and demand…it’s a pretty simple concept isn’t it? There is a need and the need gets fulfilled. You want something? Someone will supply it to you for a cost. It’s a no brainer. But what if suddenly there is an over supply of the market in, for example, romance books. Let’s say Lustful Literature – no, I have no idea if they exist – decides to shove as many titles as possible onto the market as they can. They even double up with some authors appearing twice or three times in the same month/s. Do you think – ‘wow – those authors are good to be releasing so many books so fast’ or are your thoughts ‘gee, they must have lots of great books to show us’ or maybe you ponder ‘what are they doing? Why the rush? What’s going on?’

Supply and demand always intrigues me. Too much product and you can look desperate and overloaded. Too little product all shoved on the shelves with no back up for following months also indicates desperation. Do you think it’s better to save face and space Lustful’s book releases out hoping to keep the market steady and reliable or is it better to push everything you have out to the public in a smoke and mirrors boy-aren’t-we-busy move? I love smoke and mirrors but blowing smoke is pretty obvious.

Supply and demand – in the current financial global mess – is a balancing act that should be a well thought out move and not an act of desperation. After all, less is more.

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Do all men think with their dicks?

We had quite the discussion about it at work – male and female – about men and cheating in the light of a celebrity being caught out screwing around. Yes, you’re right – celebrities are just people and they stuff up like the rest of us but it gets announced on a global scale. Anyway one man confirmed what we women always knew – men spend a great deal of time thinking with there nether regions and sex rules a great part of their lives. There’s nothing wrong with that….unless you’re a cheating scumbag and upsetting a woman.

I’ve learnt a hell of a lot this year. I’ve come to accept that monogamy is just not possible for some people. I’ve listened and understood their point of view. It’s a choice. If both partners are in an open relationship where they can chose to love other people then that’s up to them. But cheating when the other party is unaware sucks big time. And being dumb enough to have the evidence of it around? Oh please – of course any woman with one ounce of female hormones is probably going to take a swing at you. The male colleague who confirmed the whole blood rushing from brain to groin theory did point out something we also knew. Not all men are stupid. That a vast majority of men respect their partners and would never cheat no matter what body part was in charge.

‘Thinking of cheating? Your choice - but you’ll get caught out eventually and if you get koshed on the head with the odd golf club or two who’s fault’s that?

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The Secret Santa Clause…

….once again I have to wonder about the whole Secret Santa deal. If you have no idea what it is – lucky you – it’s when the office staff place names in a hat and then the names are drawn out at random and you buy for the person you randomly pick. Easy huh? Hell no. What it means is that those who randomly chose then spend the rest of the day trying to swap names as they don’t like X or Y. Ah – the spirit of Xmas. Hate someone? Get them in a Secret Santa? Negotiate all day to get rid of them until you get the name you want. Lovely. Peace in Earth and goodwill to all.

I went to have a check up on my last tatt. It needs a slight touch up so I booked that in. They told me they put a pic of it on their website – bizarro world – click here to take a squiz.

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Thigh High by Amarinda Jones - A Night Owl Romance Review

Thigh High by Amarinda Jones - A Night Owl Romance Review

Pulled a hammie…

…hamstring – I’m a complete whiner at the moment…I leave you with this from Attitude Angel, out now at Whiskey Creek Torrid, while I whine on….

“Does he have to belch like that?”

“I believe he does it to annoy you,” Aballach murmured in amusement.

Loretto sighed in frustration. “Well, it’s working. I still have no idea how he got in to Heaven. He has an earring! This is an exclusive place after all.”

Aballach looked at the “he” in question. While it was true he was hardly angel material, there was a mischievous, bad-boy edge to David Falconetti reminding Aballach of himself in his mortal days. “There’s a reason he’s here.” Nothing in Heaven happened without careful planning. As for exclusivity, that was only in the minds of some. Heaven took all kinds, judging only on merit and heart.

“It would have to be compelling. He’s anything but angelic.” Loretto dusted an imaginary piece of fluff from his pristine white sleeve.

“Not everyone has to be.” Aballach was constantly amused at the “holier then thou” attitude of the white-suited Loretto. It wasn’t a requirement to wear white in Heaven yet Loretto made sure he did and that it was spotless. If wings were more than a fairy story, then Loretto would have them—bigger and better groomed than anyone else’s.

“But—”

“Are you questioning the man in charge?” Aballach knew Loretto was too rules oriented to voice his queries to the boss.

“Certainly not.” He looked indignant at the accusation. “I just wonder, why him of all people? He’s arrogant, rude and smug.”

“Hey! I can hear you.” David Falconetti was lying on the green grass, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. He looked completely relaxed as if he no longer had any worries.

“Eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves.” Loretto’s voice was so pious that Aballach had to stop himself from laughing.

“And a stitch in time saves nine—but who gives a rat’s ass?” David closed his eyes as he enjoyed the warm sunlight on his face.

Loretto stamped his foot in anger. “Well, really!”

“You invited me to this shindig, bossy britches. I sure wasn’t expecting to end up here.”

“There must be someone else we can use?” Loretto turned imploringly to Aballach. “We’ve a reputation to uphold. God knows what he’ll do.”

“Exactly.” And that was why God had looked at those in Heaven and picked out David Falconetti. He had a plan. Aballach rarely questioned the boss. “And he is the one.”

“But why him?”

“Oh, he’s a hell-raiser all right, but he’s going to be given another chance. We need him because he’s flawed and human.” Because he’s destined to change the world. But that was something only God and Aballach were aware of.

The man in question responded. “Actually I’m dead—that’s why I’m here—and as for ‘flawed’, I prefer to call it ‘possessing interesting character traits’.” David didn’t sound at all offended at Aballach’s words.

Aballach held onto Loretto arm to calm him. “Mr. Falconetti…”
“Yes, Mr. Aballach?”

His lip twitched. Aballach liked the dark-haired man immensely. He was a law unto himself and didn’t care what others thought. Since his arrival in Heaven his lazy charm had shocked some and endeared him to many. “Would you be so good as to join us please?” He watched as David got to his feet and sauntered lazily over to them. His sleepy green eyes were full of amusement and the brow ring above his left eyebrow accentuated the ‘bad boy’ look. Oh yes, I can see exactly why he was chosen. To save the world, but strength and charisma were needed.

“So what’s the deal, boys?”

Aballach smiled. He’d liked David from the first moment they’d met. “We need you to do something for us…”

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Minutiae…

It was month end at work today. What that means is everyone runs around trying to get figures together in order to balance the books. There’s pathos, hysteria and drama as people shriek ‘will it balance?’ Anxious looks are shared…I, personally, was just worried about the coffee van coming on time – I let others worry about the boring adding up stuff. I did my bit towards that. I needed coffee more than correct figures for god sake. The good news is the coffee van came – and oh yeah, the books balanced. Duh, the always do. The coffee van is less reliable as you never know if another workplace will hold them up with their unreasonable demands for coffee. How rude.

After this non-action packed day, I went and got another lot of piercings in my ears. I went for emerald green studs. Why? I have green in my eyes and green always looks good on Kermit – that’s reason enough. I discussed where and who pierced what with the piercing person – I’m not sure of their actual title - Piercest? Pierceologist? Anyway she said ‘oh hell no – I don’t pierce boobs or genitals.’ Well, I had to ask, that’s who I am. She said doing those areas would be icky. I had to agree on the icky factor. People should keep their bits and pieces private and away from needles…but that’s just my opinion. She said she watched a woman having her nipples pierced once and they used this long needle and…god, it pains me just to remember what she said. Why would you do that to your boobs? Aren’t they annoying enough as it is without metal implements attached?

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Say no to fashion…

"This woman who had everything is dead because she wanted to have a slightly firmer behind…"

J-Lo's rear is rated number one by plastic surgeons’ patients seeking to remake their buttocks.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/us_and_americas/article6938538.ece

A woman dies due to plastic surgery to make her butt look better. It’s not a joke. It’s not funny. It’s just plain sad. Yep, no one can ever question or understand how another feels about their looks or what they need to make themselves look better, but this is just wrong. Society and the plastic diva-like echelon who decree who is hot or beautiful or sexy have a bloody lot to answer to. While Jennifer Lopez may have an enviable butt, I don’t want it cause I was never meant to have it nor would I allow myself to be pressured by peers or society to be anyone but me. Average is okay with me. How bloody hard it must be for someone who thinks – like this model – that they have to maintain the façade.

Wouldn’t it be bloody fantastic if we all said no to fashion and fashionistas and just accepted that perfection does not exist and whatever fads, be they body types or clothes, are not as important as your health and your life. Say no to fashion.

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To pierce or not to pierce…

I’m contemplating getting another set of piercings in my ears. I have two in each lobe already. The first happened when I was 14 and got ‘permission’ from Mum and the second I got when I was 20 at a chemist (drugstore?) in Pismo Beach, California – fantastic place Pismo Beach. We had the best time.

Anyway, I went and talked piercing with a multi-pierced individual. She was quite fascinating and very helpful. She advised the third piercing could happen but I’d have to wear less dangly earrings in the middle holes. Bummer. I always wear dangling earrings. The longer and stranger the better. I have to decide whether I de-danglify the earrings I wear in the second holes and have a third set or not. Oh hard. She did give me another option – pierce my nose. Hmmmm…I could do that…or I may just dangle more and get used to the drag. Decisions, decisions...

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I’m soooo hot…

….and oh god no, not in a sexually, exciting way – more in a schlepping around from fan to fan in an old bra, faded shorts and ratty-haired way. Quite ghastly to look at but there it is. Summer in Brizzie. Humidity makes you strip. I could say I look almost exactly like Marilyn above – I do sorta – we’re both female – that’s where the similarity ends. I’m a goddess but in a more complicated way…

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Renewal…

I had been on auto pilot with an establishment for such a long time that I had never realized how much I was sick to death of them and their rules. Something happened a couple of days ago – see the angry post – that made me realize that I had lost faith in them – and worse - I no longer trusted them. When you lose trust, you know it’s time to move on.

Anyway push came to shove over something and I thought – “Walk away – you don’t trust them – what are you doing with them?” The answer, of course, is we all get complacent, lazy and go the easy way. I was but I’m changing that now.

So, I’ve cut ties and I feel damn good. The best thing is I can write the way I want to write without hoping it fits the ‘rules’. Condoms? Gee no, if they don’t fit the story, I’m not going to write ‘em in. Readers don’t like ‘em anyway – they’re passion killers. The heroine getting preggers or even the hint of a baby? Again, if it fits the story – it will go in the story. And now, I can actually use ‘baby’ as a term of endearment and not have it deemed as something sinister. And sex? I’m not going to worry how much I should write. Is it hot enough? Or, more to the point – is it weird enough? Yep, I've finally been kicked in the head enough to realize I can do so much better without compromising on who I am.

Rules – I always knew they were fucking stupid.

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Most peculiar…

….I have two book releases out in the same month – December – with the same publisher…hmmm…we live in curious times.

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Oh, what I would like to say…

I think Peter Finch summed it up nicely when he said, in the movie Network, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Oh, I’m angry. I could spit chips I’m so mad but unlike Peter I can’t publicly say why - yet. I was going to write a blog about exactly what had made me so angry but someone I respect and admire very much may get in trouble for it. Friends are more important than the actions of wankers. I can’t drop kick a friend into a shit-fight. So I won’t. I’m gagging myself for the moment. But oh god, what I would like to say and will say as soon as I am free to.

Amarinda Jones
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Lots of stuff happening...

…none of it I can talk about. Bummer. So I leave you with my new pink Doc Martens…long story with these as well…seems to be the season for complicated stuff…

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Britney in Brizzie…

Britney Spears is in Brisbane. So is a work colleague of mine from up north. Let’s call her Sabrina. I speak or email Sabrina nearly every day at work so it was nice to put a face to a name. Sabrina is in town to see Britney Spears. Old Brit has been getting a bad rap in Oz due to her lip synching. Some people feel that if she hauled her arse all the way down to the Antipodes then she should at least sing live. Others like Sabrina, and the fans, know she lip synchs but they don’t care. They want to see the show and woman. Me? I think no one on the planet is that good a singer, dancer, writer or candlestick maker and everyone fakes it somewhere along the way so what the hey – give Brit a break. Take a moment and think about what you fake.

We brought Sabrina back to the office. She wanted to see it – god knows why as everyone was in a reallllly baaaad mood due to all the changes and they were quite pissy to Sabrina. I said to her ‘and you want to work down here with these hormonal harpies? Please…run…flee…and pray you never enter the dark side again.’

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I don’t think so…

There’s this woman at work – in another office – who many people don’t like – in fact they hate her and wish all sorts of terrible things upon her – plagues of locusts, boils, paper cuts and no change for the vending machine. I don’t hate her. You only hate what you fear. I don’t fear her. I do, however, find her to be extremely aggressive in her language and attitude. I don’t like the fact that she makes others cry or she sets people up to take the fall to make herself look good. Not on my watch sister.

Basically, this woman is a bully and for some reason only known to herself every so often she tries to put the frighteners on me. I believe it’s a challenge to her. It starts with the aggressive ‘you will do this phone call’. Hmmm, I don’t think so. I’m always exceptionally even toned when I speak to this woman because I know it pisses aggressive people off. I explain to her coolly and succinctly that I’m not her employee that she is dabbling in a realm where I am Queen and that I can, metaphorically speaking of course, kick her arse from here to next Sunday. Generally by the end of the conversation she has shut the hell up and I always end it with a pleasant goodbye and a very well-structured, polite, professional email to her and all interested parties about the ‘issue’ she raised. There is no blame or angst it’s just a quiet, ‘don’t fuck with me email’ aimed specifically at her.

I actually find this woman sad, pathetic and plain nasty. No one should make another cry or fear for their job in order to make themselves look good. I refuse to back down when it comes to bullies. I will not have people fear for their safely. The day I allow a bully to win is the day I stop being a bitch. A true bitch never backs down from a fight. Say what you like about bitches, but we’re awfully useful at times like this.

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Bizarro world…

Synchronicity is an ever present reality for those who have eyes to see ~ Carl Jung

In the last two weeks, the strangest things have been happening in my life – people have turned up at the precise moment I needed them – even though I didn’t know I did, opportunities have thrust themselves in my face and an old friend has wandered back into my life to point out some bleeding obvious things to me as only he can.

I’m a great believer in synchronicity. There are no coincidences and everything happens for a reason – and okay, yes, there are times when I’m stuffed if I know what the reason is. Now, I’m not saying that everything is peachy keen in my life and that all my problems are being solved by the cosmos but it’s certainly a bizzaro world period in my life right now. I can hardly wait to see what today brings.

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Giving good back…

I’ve seen this man’s back on so many book covers that I am beginning to wonder how he got paid. Is it a one shot sum of money for ‘back’ or is it back to back payment for every time his back gets used? Does he own his own back? If a book has copyright can he trademark/insure his back? How much would that cost? What does his face look like – yes, I know facial features are not important but I would like to look at the whole man…but then, is this just a simulated back made up in a studio somewhere? Maybe it’s not a real, live back at all. Does he smile and tell his friends every time his back is on a cover? Do ex-lovers go “I know that back anywhere. I want that back back in my life.” What if a lover scratches his back during sex? Or do you think he has rules on that – ‘do whatever you like to me darlin’ but no nails on my back I’ve got a back gig tomorrow.’ Is there steady work in the ‘back’ industry? Does he have front he can use? Is the back industry competitive? Is he challenged by younger backs? How old is this back anyway? He seems to have been around forever. What happens when he can’t give good back anymore? Are you only as good as your last back shot?

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Toe-cutters….

We’ve been undergoing a shake up at work. There’s a toe-cutter in the building. What is a toe-cutter? A man who has the ability to see problems quickly, cut down those who are dead wood and institute policies that piss some people off left, right and centre – no, not me. Why not? I’ve met toe-cutters before. They’re charming, charismatic men – 95% of the time men – with eyes that see everything yet give nothing away until they’re ready to. They sound scary don’t they? Nah, never sweat the small stuff. Toe-cutters come and go and life still goes on for the experienced and the resilient.

Our current toe-cutter came in and charmed the pants off everyone. Yesterday, some people decided he wasn’t so charming after all and they liked the office, with all the bitching and moaning, the way it used to be. I can hardly wait to see what next week brings. Oh the angst, ridden drama.

New cover…I love it…I bow down to the cover gods at Ellora’s Cave. They never let me down.

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Weird arsed week….

First up I must mention that Attitude Angel is out at Whiskey Creek Torrid. I forgot it was released – bad author-hand-slap-hanging-head-in-shame. I was supposed to promote the arse out of it until you were all sick to death of it and said ‘bugger off, we’ll frigging buy it if you shut already.’ Ok – so that’s done – click on the cover below to buy or read on MacDuff…It’s been a week out of the Twilight Zone. Weird things have happened left, right and centre and I’ve been left thinking ‘huh’ and ‘what the?’

So, here’s the thing, suddenly I’m a manager with my own office – picture musical chairs and you’re the only one who’s playing. The music stops and you look at the chair and you think ‘should I sit?’ But you do and it starts off this amazing chain reaction of responsibility that you think ‘well fuck, I’m a grown up.’

Then there’s the gossip at work. X stormed out of the office because Y is a ball breaking cow – no, I’m not Y this time – and there is uproar and drama and hours are spent trying to determine the facts of what may or could have or did happen. No work gets done because well, how can it? You have to discuss all the possible variations of what could have happened to ascertain 79% of the truth. I’m completely exhausted from all that. Then there’s the staff who are pissed at the sudden office changes, someone took all my black pens – I only write in black – extremely annoying – how does anyone write in blue - and I only got to have one coffee and because of that how can I be expected to stamp things with the right date and not upside down?

And then there are people you want to hate and ignore and you just can’t ‘cause they get all puppy dog on you and well…you know…sigh…its’ hard to be a bitch sometimes…

I think the most normal thing of the week was planning a bank robbery with author Anny Cook and the Frog Queen…thank god for rational people like this.

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Rack off Lancelot….

So, I had this man tell me today that he basically saved me. Uh huh... really? How so Lancelot? If you believe his dramatic take on events – which I don’t but I am thinking of using in a book – he fell on his sword for me. Oh honey, if you fall on your sword you’re just plain clumsy and don’t tell me it was in the name of gallantry. I never needed saving and frankly I was just doing fine without you.

This man had his own agenda and for some reason he thought I would be all grateful to him for this piss weak venture into soap opera fiction on my behalf…hmmm…I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong – if someone helps me or stands by me I have this mafia like loyalty to them forever but try to dazzle me with bullshit and I’ll call you on it – which I did today and gee, no, he didn’t try to save me at all….but that’s another blog.

You know, I like men…they’re this odd species that we deal and live with and find strangely compelling to watch and listen to sometimes. But no woman needs a Lancelot. We can save ourselves. If we need help we’ll ask. And no woman needs a man telling them he charged in to save her cellulite arse when there was no danger to it at all. Is it a need a man has to receive gratitude and be praised? If so put the toilet seat down, Lancelot...good boy.

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I came second for bold embroidery….

…at the Avenell Show…'can’t remember the year. So yep, I was on a list once. It was all to do with cotton and thread and lots of wild colour. Actually I wasn’t even aware I had been entered in the show until I got the certificate. I think I was 13. Ah, those were the heady days…

What am I crapping on about? Several days ago I wrote a short, simple blog for Whiskey Creek Torrid and I asked a question along the lines of how important was it to readers whether a book was on a best seller list. It was to do with some heated emails I read from a group of authors who were upset that a bestseller list had gone to god.

Anyway I got quite a lot of emails back on the subject - some from authors but most from readers. Authors think it is vitally important to be on a bestseller list as readers pick from the list and it provides publicity. I don’t necessarily agree with that but I respect those opinions.

Readers didn’t see the list as being important and that they liked to make their mind up by reading blubs, excerpts, looking at covers, blogs and recommendations from friends. It appears that a bestseller list is not deemed as important. They also liked to pick lesser know authors to expand horizons – free reads being a good way to do it. A couple of readers brought up something that never occurred to me and that was - how do we know the bestseller list is right? Is number one really number one? Hmmm… stuffed if I know and an interesting point. I believe reputable publishers would have no fear in running a true and accurate top ten list without fear or favour…dodgy pubs may re-jig a list to make some authors happy...who knows? It’s the answer-is-blowing-in-the-wind kind of deal.

To me, 2nd best champion embroiderer at the Avenell show, the bottom line is readers read books and influence the market according to their needs and beliefs. Pretty damn simple huh?

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Good news…bad news…

Good news is my scarlet python Doc Martens arrived! They are most lovely. Bad news is it’s too frigging hot to wear them…bummer.

Good news is Flower Power by Sandra Cox is out today. Click on the cover to buy.

When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other.—Chinese Proverb

Through the ages flowers have delighted and empowered us. Shakespeare talks about the sweet smell of roses. The Koran tells us that flowers feed the spirit, while Henry Beecher thought they were the sweetest things God ever made without a soul.

And who could forget the flower children of the sixties with their message of love and peace or the mysticism of oil and incense?

We pay tribute to births and deaths with sprays of these delicate beauties. A bride carries flowers down the aisle and, at the wedding reception, tosses the bouquet, a symbol of eternal love, for someone to catch.

We embroider them on our hand towels. We add them to our lotions and perfumes. We press a rose from a loved one between the pages of a book. We dry lavender from a garden so we’ll have its sweet scent in the dead of winter.

Flowers boost our emotions. Wouldn’t Mondays be easier to deal with if someone sent us a bright, scented floral bouquet to set on our desk?

Besides their intrinsic appeal, they are valued by the homeopathic community for their healing qualities. They are used for purification and rituals.

Myths and legends abound around the eternal flower.

In Flower Power, you will discover the wonders and uses of flowers such as gardens, aromatherapy, edibles, crafts, their personal language and the carnivores of the plant kingdom.

Bad news? Did I mention it’s too pukeably hot to wear my scarlet pythons?

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I have this belief…

…that the most powerful person in a room is the one you don’t notice straight away. They’re usually quietly observing everyone, taking mental notes and sussing out each person. These people are generally average to look at and there’s nothing flashy about the way they dress but when they open their mouths to speak – oh man – look out. They are the most eloquent and fascinating people. And smart? Oh yeah. They use they’re so called ‘average’ looks almost in a chameleon way. You never know what will happen next. These people fascinate me.

Look at Mona. She’s not conventionally beautiful and yet we have been captivated by her for years. What is she thinking behind those eyes and that half smile?

You can have all the beauty in the world but smarts and quick thinking kicks beauty’s arse every time. So, if someone indicates you’re not beautiful take it as a compliment. You have more power than you imagine. Watch, look, listen and learn then when people least expect it make your move. That’s true power.

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Run the Gauntlet by Amarinda Jones

Run the Gauntlet by Amarinda Jones

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Finding the madness within…

“That rush of adrenaline as you know you are doing something totally insane but you are pretty sure – sort-of-sure - you can pull it off.”

A friend said this today and I thought to myself I cannot remember the last crazy, adrenaline filled thing I did. You know what I mean - something that was so mad that you wondered how you managed to get out in one piece or without being booked by the cops or being able to walk straight. I’ve gotten so staid and boring. But then that happens, doesn’t it? In the pursuit of trying to be a grown up and make sure you set yourself up for life, you tend to misplace the madness within. We get so busy, busy, busy with boring life things we tend to forget to do some silly, dumb arsed things to make our pulses race as we then try to extricate ourselves from the situation we thrust ourselves into.

So I’ve resolved to do something really outrageous to get out of the rut I’m in. I just have to think what. Any suggestions…that are fairly legal…

I am here today...spruiking on as I do...

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