Well I am traditional

I've never considered myself conservative.  But I've always considered myself traditional.

I believe in marriage.  I also believe there is nothing wrong with living together.  I know contradicting myself a little.  

You've heard me say that I do not approve of the situation my sister is in.  She started up with a married man who has four kids.  It's made the last 2 years of the relationship between my sister and me pretty much non-existent.  
They moved in together this last week.  He's left his wife completely and now really started a proper life with my sister. 

They were over here for a few minutes the last few days bringing me empty boxes and a coffee table. The little bit of "hi how you doing today"  is the most I've talked to this man in 2 years.  I am not sure I will ever be completely comfortable with him, but I also know I need to start if I ever want to get back the bit of relationship with my sister as it looks like he's going to be hanging around.  This is one of the longest relationships my sister has ever had so....

Here's the thing. She was happy!  She was over here yesterday bringing me the empty boxes and she was just glowing she was so happy.  In the 28 years that Ninja has been on this planet I have never seen her happy.  I've seen her hyper but never happy to the core of her being happy. 
Maybe she found her ONE.

Are you loosing sleep over me?

So I'm working on the 3rd draft of my novel, and  need to ask the men reading this,   and I really need some honest feedback; how bad is a break up on your end?

My straight male friends have stopped answering my questions.  It seems I'm getting too personal with my questions. 

Actually one of my favourite songs is "You're the Reason"  by Bobby Edwards (you're the reason I don't sleep at night/I'm betting you're not loosing sleep over me/but if I'm wrong don't fail to call)

I don't know what you want from me

You hide from me when you need me most,
You rip me from myself when I need me most,
Under a pale spotlight of trust, that slowly binds us together,
I'm tired and I can't take it anymore, I need to feed but I'm nothing more then a vampire in a room of zombies, empty and alone
I don't know what you want from me, you have never said, never shown, never explained,
Is it the moisture on my lips, as you lick them sending a shiver up my spine, or is it something else that you've planted in me burning me up from the inside,
You say you are my friend but yet you haven't tried, I'm still stuck walled up brick by brick inside, while you stand there in the cold snow, ankle deep and wet
You hide from me when you need me most,
You rip me from myself when I need me most,
You're not the spirit of the show not the host
I don't know what you want from me, you have never said, never shown, never explained,
Just pointed to your chest telling me your way is the best,
I don't know what you want from me,  and I've cried begged pleaded with you to let me know, to kindly thank you, to open up just a little of your locked door,
But still you hide, like a shadow in the darkened corner of my mind, of my heart, daring me to start over again my song, to hit the beat and drag it on,
I don't know what you want from me, you refuse to say refuse to give me the time of day,
But you expect me to stay, to be waiting for you without love without passion without - you
I don't know what you want from me,


By Ardeth Blood   April 12th 2010

I'm jealous of a 16 year old...

How that happen? And um why?

Well I was out with mom today, and spotted this teenaged couple.  I sat there watching them interact and was very envious of the girl.  Not because her boyfriend was good looking, cause he wasn't, but because of the way he was looking at her.  I've seen this look before, from my male cousins when they've looked at their wives, from my male friends when they have looked at their girlfriends, when my married friend's husbands have looked at them, even once from VLHE's exhusband who came out as gay.  That look of pure animalistic desire.  That look that a man will get when he's thinking he doesn't care who's around or that he's in a public place. That look that is similar to what a hungry panther has when looking at it's prey.
A look I have witnessed  a million times in other people, but have never been able to create in a guy myself. 
So there I was, sitting around waiting for the bus watching these two teenagers cooing at each other like they were the only two people on the planet. Thinking, how did that girl create that desire in that boy?  And I found myself both jealous and depressed. 
Jealous of a 16 year old.  How much lower can I get?

How far are you willing to go?

Working on draft 3 of my novel, and am wondering... would a male masturbation scene be taking it too far?   Would that cross a line that just would destroy the core of the plot?
Hard to say.  Some people have already told me my novel is difficult to swallow.   Yeah, I threw good taste out the window the second I started working on the last draft. 

And what brought this thought on this raining morning over coffee?  

Well to be honest, I'm still waiting for this weeks TNA Impact to be available so I can do the weekly review, and decided to work on one of the main characters while I wait.  He needs to be given more personality.  That and I had a crazy conversation last night with a buddy about an old match from the Best of the X-Division vol 2.  (June 18th 2006 you can find it on iTunes even, 6 man contenders match)
 
My editor and my friend's mom who read the last draft both feel he's the strongest character in my novel. My Antagonist. My Heel.  So now I am just trying to get a better handle on this character, so to speak.

Is that all I am to you

I once read on Patricia Kennealy 's blog that everyone is someone's groupie.  I don't know if she came up with that or if she was quoting someone else, but I am quoting her.

Well it would seem, everyone else on the planet has a groupie but me.   Though it would seem that according to my buddy Patrick (who I would normally call Buddy #P but since he said he hated that code name and I'm pissed at him right now -his real name it is), I am a groupie for our tag team.   Really?  That's funny, I was always under the impression that groupies either frealed the celebrity or was like a mommy to them.  Last time I checked I had done neither for our tag team.  This label really upsets me. 
It's as if he's saying that I am not good enough to be anything of real value to anyone.
Seriously, if that's how my friends view me, then it's time to pack up completely. 

To quote Lynn Redgrave in the movie Midnight   "like a mouse running up an elephant's leg with rape in mind."  My buddy Patrick said during our conversation  "no one notices that mouse."    Very true, and I am feeling like that little mouse.  Only I've been tossed off landing against a tree shattering my spine and dying in horrible pain. 

All I have to say is if there is if the idea is true that everyone is someone's groupie, if I've got any they better stand up and shake the cobwebs off cause it would be nice to know.

What do you mean you missed the plot hole?

My friend's mom was going over a copy of draft 2 of the novel and she found a plot hole. Large one too at that. My editor did not find this plot hole.
Great wonderful lovely. Like I am not having enough issues with the frealing thing. Now I have to figure out how to fix it, how far back into the story to go and sew up the mistakes.
Someone remind me again why I became a writer? Oh right because it's all I ever wanted to be since I was 3. Right, I knew that. That and well Elvira, and I've already tried and failed at that back in college in the early 1990's.

You know those days when you feel like a fake

Yeah, it's one of those.  I just had to recommend a book that I thought was dren.
Book club journal thingie, with more nonsense then anything else in it.  There are hundreds of these things on the market all designed to make your reading experience more orgasmic then it truly is.
I've got one from a few years ago that is just a basic to the point book club journal.  A section for your to read list, a section for what the book club has read and their comments, with a few quotes thrown in for the cutesy floweriness of it.  
This one today, that I had to recommend,  I just wanted to say don't waste your time or money.  But I could not, so instead I just gave the list of what it offers.  
That makes me a fake today.  I don't like being a fake.

Some evil to your head

Quoting Artificial Joy Club song Psychic Man for that opening title.

Okay, so I have said on this monster mash over a year ago that I had started trying to learn belly dancing. Trying being the key word. Why I am not getting too far with it, and there for no vid of me yet at it, has alot to do with my shoulder/ribs and back.

Remember the car accident I had back on Sept 1st 2006, it mangled my entire right side from my waist to my shoulder. And well I have that nasty back issue since I was 10. But anyway, I started up again with the trying to learn belly dance. Seems when I am not trying I seem to be able to make a hoser out of myself by half way dancing.

Let me set the photo for you shall I. When I think about doing the moves, my zombie eaten brain can't seem to get my stupid body to move, but when I am standing around just waiting for a bus with my iPod on, well I end up having people stare at me like I am having a fit or something.

Yes that's right my Spudguns, I dance when I am not even thinking about trying to. And I'm sure that I make for a fairly interesting - to say the least- idiot of myself without even trying to.

So the message of the day is .... Don't even think about it. Move, groove and be on intuition.

Which brings me to my next little mouth dropping.

I have shown my ability for poetry. I was published years ago when still in high school, and college and a few years after that, in local papers and an underground American mag (Macabre Manse Best of Gothica and Beyond) And I've added bits and pieces on this bloggy-blog over the years.
Well, last year I had written a piece for a guy. I never gave it to him, totally chickened out cause I'm a total coward. But I did show it off to a few of my friends and their husbands. Wanting mostly the opinion of the very straight married guys. The reactions were like this....

50 year old Female friend : "If he doesn't scoop you up right on the spot he's a looser who doesn't deserve you."
Her husband : " That's beautiful. Send it now send it now. That's just beautiful"
Her 20 something year old son : " You have a nice way with words. I could turn that into a song."
The High Priestess : "KIM!!!! SEND IT!!! He's going to love it"
High Priestesses husband : he had nothing to say cause he cried. I made a 35 year old straight man cry with my writing.

Well, I am a coward and just could not send it. Freal, I don't even know if he's into poetry. That would be a big bad had I sent it to this guy I don't even really know, and find out he doesn't even like poetry right... right?

And the point is still go with your gut on things. My intuition was to write the pretty little poem and send it to him. Here I am a year later and it's just too late. This is one fear I don't think I can face. And no, I am not going to post that one here. It's too revealing, too innocent, too raw, too naked. No, it's not a dirty smutty poem either, just very ... sugary. Not the me I have let you all see on this blog. It's more Kimberly less Ardeth.

I just can't seem to get it out of my head to send it to him. The universe needs to start sending me some clear signs cause I'm as mixed up emotionally as a girl can get.

Missing Photos

Seems photos are missing all across Blogger.

This is a massive issue. I know it freaked me out at first, caused a panic and I even updated my browser but .... Just have to wait it out.

Meanwhile in a messy room across town part 5

I used screen capture for this post

So you heard me say this afternoon that I am having writers block again.
Not good.

Well, I was watching a match from the 2009 Against All Odds ppv and suddenly I had a scene.

Oh yeah, I quickly hit the pause button on the iTunes and opened the novel again, and wrote a scene where one of my leads is sitting there eating cereal.

You're thinking What? how does a ppv match equal you thinking of cereal?

Oh yeah man. True grit on this one. It was the tights. For whatever reason, my brain thought "bright sugary puffed cereal everywhere" Just a big bowl of Fruity-Os. You get the picture?

Between the green and yellow in Mr. Shelley's tights and the neon orange and day-glo green in Mr. Young's tights, I started thinking of coloured cereal.

Why I keep connecting Mr. Shelley with food I have no idea. It's some odd domestic desire or something.
But, yeah, dude I got an entire paragraph written because of that spark of thought. So, um... thanks boys for breaking down my writers block.

Friday Noon :14

I'm sitting here my mind stuck but spinning in circles at the same time.

I need a new ending for my novel and I'm just hitting a blank wall. Well, more like a large grey one with a rocky texture. Or more on the point, a dirty once white one with little thumbtack holes and grease splatters. Cause I am in the kitchen with my laptop as I sit here staring at the last paragraph of my novel.

Help!

I'm starting to begrudge my characters. This might be a problem as I still have to deal with them for at least another year.

My ending sucks. Just blows goat.

I keep thinking of that scene in the movie Stranger then Fiction when Emma Thompson is standing over the edge of the building and you realize she's not really.

Yeah it's one of those days.

Oh my Now My mom is worried about him.

I used screen capture for this post

You all remember this post ... yes?

Well, it doesn't stop there. It should but it doesn't.
I was on the phone with my mother, talking about my day and how the review was finally done for this week, and I mentioned that the fan sites are saying that the show is suppose to be changing time slots in a few weeks. Mom said "That's the beginning of the end for TNA isn't it? Cause when a television show gets the shuffle it's all down hill from there on."
That is the general thought right now on the fan sites/spoiler sheets. I am not thinking that way, trying to stay positive and believe that TNA will make it. Then my mom said something that created a bit of an uncomfortable and very strange few minutes.

Mom: "What will that Alex guy do if the show goes do you think?"

Me : "Where the hoofers did that come from? And what does that have to do with anything?"

Mom: "He'd be out of a job wouldn't he? Think he'd show up on the other one... the other company with Randy Orton " (note mom has a soft spot for Randy Orton )

Me : "I don't know. To be honest, I hope not. To me that would be like selling your soul. "

Yes, my mother was worried about Mr. Shelley's career. My Mom! This just reached a new level of creepy. First my mom thinks Mr. Shelley is cute ( but we can not blame her for that as who with eyes doesn't) now, she's actually worried he won't have a job if TNA sinks. What's going on here?

Does my mom know something about my favourite wrestler that I don't?
Does she have him on speed dial or something? Should I worry? I'm starting to wonder.

My mom is not even a wrestling fan, she can point out who she thinks is cute and that's about as far as it goes. So for her to make a comment about wither or not Mr. Shelley will have a career in the wrestling business if TNA ends... I am not sure what to say on that, other then Mr. Shelley you have done something no one else on the planet has been able to do. You've made my mother give a damn about something that I'm interested in. Hands down, you're the man.

Told you it got to a whole new level of creepy.

There's no happy ending

*deep sigh*

There is no happy ending.

My friend's mom, whom I respect completely, hated my novel. It made her uncomfortable.

Characters I created, that I spent the last year working on, pouring my soul into made her want to puke.

There is no happy ending. I put my lead character- Protagonist- through hell. I put my Antagonist through hell. The same hell actually. And one character I was told is redundant. The character of Cole, who is based on my buddy Joshua, my friend's mom and my editor by the by, feel that the story is being blocked by having him in there.

I can't seem to win.

Okay here is the deal. I'm not as creative as I wish I was. I need a guy in my life to feed the creativity. I need to be in a relationship, or at the very least crushing on someone. This blog over the past year proof of that. I mean, man really the most interesting posts on this frealing thing have nothing to do with me and everything to do with either the bad dates I had over the summer or my addiction to Mr. Shelley and Mr. Sabin.

So what do I do now? I'm trudging through the re-writing of draft 3 and my heart is no longer in it. I have been working towards this point for the last 15 years.

15 years! Since the first time I had some of my poems published in high school. Yes, I am that old. Most writers have cranked out four or five full length novels by this age and not still struggling to get noticed.

I got asked today ironically "what would Jane do?"
What Would Jane Do? Well, I think Jane Austen would have laughed. She would have laughed and then dug up a pile of potatoes. Cause by this age, she had 4 of her novels published and had already turned down one offer of marriage. See, massively ahead of me in a time when women couldn't own anything.

What did I do? I drank 3 glasses of wine and cried.

You upset my mom

The other day when I was at mom's, she was on Facebook. As always. And got very upset.
My cousin Jessica wrote something on her status.

Now, I know I normally give people a stage name for this blog, but damn it, this little snot faced (I so want to use the c -word right now ) deserves to be called out.

She keeps talking about taking pills, stealing, drugs and sex with her older boyfriend. Did I mention she's 14.
No?
Yeah, she's driving my aunt insane, and scaring the dren out of my mom. What kind of moron posts photos of herself on Facebook with a bottle in one hand and a massive joint in the other when it's clear they are an under aged child.
Oh right my cousin.

She's acting out.
Um yeah. The question is why?
And the answer to that is... my aunt just moved them out of Winnipeg.

Her brothers all had the same attitude and one even landed in jail. So my aunt moved the family out of the influenced area. Now, my cousin is 50 times worse.

So, I wrote the little ... an email in Facebook. Told her that she's freaked out my mom which was bad enough, and that she is a self centered selfish spoiled brat.

Okay, I just needed to vent. I know giving her blog time is counter productive, but maybe my aunt will see this and get Jessica into rehab or something.

Dishes?

I have a temper.
I tend to act sometimes without thinking.

I threw out the dishes.

Yes Spudgun, the sink was backed up, and instead of grabbing the bleach and plunger I just grabbed garbage bags and tossed them.

I did end up using the plunger and bleach to clean the clog. I don't have Draino. But now I have to go to the store for more dishes.

Maybe I'll just buy paper plates this time?

If any man ever fell in love with me, he would be very smart to buy me a dishwasher instead of a ring.

Do I Tear You Apart?

Last December I posted a poem on my gonzo blog. I 'm in the mood to post it here. I wrote it for the hopes a particular male reader would reply. He never did.

DO I TEAR YOU APART?

Locks and keys are made for each other.
Are you the key to my dreams?
Am I the missing piece to yours?
Do I rip you from your own reality when you need it most?
Do you think I should?

Crying in the night only brings misery and headaches.
Do I cause you to weep over the thought of me with someone else?
Did you miss what you thought was your way to me?
Are you anything when I am not beside you?
Do I hold the key to your future?
Do you think I should?

We melt into each person who we are meant to be with.
Have you given yourself over to the idea of me ?
Are you willing to try?
You believe that I am yours body and soul?
Do I hold the key to your future?
Do you think I should?
Do I rip you apart, does it hurt to know we're miles and days away from each other?

Locks and keys are made for each other.
Are you ready to find out if we are a perfect fit?

love always Ardeth Blood

Let me tell you about me

I was just having a chat with Buddy #P and the topic turned to photos. I have only ever seen a photo of him once over a year ago and it was not the greatest.
I just saw one new one of him. Buddy #P does not have a good self image.

He had visited one of my websites the other day and said he really like one photo I have up.
Cool.

I've talked more then once about how I view myself. I believe I am realistic in my self image. But it took alot to get to this point.
Most women when you talk to them, will have the same comment, that the older they got the better they viewed themselves. That's so true of me.

You read on this blog me asking what is wrong with me, and the next day I'm telling you how adored I am by the X-Division. The truth of the matter is somewhere in between. As I am sure it is for everyone.
This is a blog. A mirror to hold up to ourselves at later points in life. Some days are rocking others not so much. I know my self esteem is mirrored back at me that way. Think about it, yours most likely is too.

Where are you going with this?

I always felt like I was nothing. Frankenstein's monster. Well, give me some neck bolts then. I embraced it and smile. Smiling, laughing and just enjoying the idea that someone at some point will look at me and say "You're such an Addams" cause honey, Lily Munster ain't got nothing on me.
Dude, I'm push another decade soon (36 in 2 weeks) I have no time for self doubt.

Cheap Skywriting

Communication.

It seems to be the topic de jour.

I'm sitting here listening to my Artificial Joy Club cd Melt, with the song Skywriting on repeat.
My favourite track on the album. And it got me thinking about some of my poetry. I ended up going through some of my scrapbooks looking for a few pieces I did back when I was still with Trainwreck. My most creative time for poetry actually.
Most of which I have forgotten about. Why, well because they are all about him. Yeah, I am that cliched and pathetic. When I am in a relationship or have a crush, I communicate to the guy by making him the center of my art.

Not on purpose.

No shocker there eh? as my blog is living proof of that fact.

Also no shocker that men and women communicate differently. Take for example, I had done a drawing of Trainwreck and photographed it. I gave him the photograph of the drawing. He tossed it into the glove compartment of his truck and did not even acknowledge it. I was crushed for days. Then one night at the bar when he was djing, he rigged the door prize of the night for me to win. I was insulted.
Our communication styles were so different. I think in art and he thought in money.

I think that's why so many women are drawn to romance novels/movies. It's the idea of the grand gesture.

What made Percy Bysshe Shelley such hot dren? You know, I have read his poetry and I find it lack luster. But yet, he was considered, and still is considered, one of the greatest poets ever.
It was part of what seduced Mary Shelley. No surprise when you think about it either, that both of their most popular works shared the same title. Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus and her husband's Prometheus Unbound .

I'm still searching for that kind of creative connection. But the message seems to disappear just when I think I have found that soul collaborator.

Can you share such a deep intimacy like that without falling in love? When someone opens the floodgates of creativity in you, what do you do when they close the door?
I think Mary Shelley got off lucky. Percy died on her. She lived her whole life knowing he was the One, knowing she had been his soulmate, his muse. There are some of us who still have to turn the corner down the street and hold our breath that we do not bump into our ex.

Least you step in that dog dren again and the stink never comes off.

We have come along way since the days of Mr. and Mrs. Percy Shelley. Maybe too far. Not only do we have a million ways to decode the communications we developed, we have just as many ways to block out the noise.
Men see a caller id and choose not to answer. They text cause it is less stress for them then actually picking up the phone. Webcamming has replaced a walk as a first date.
All this makes the face to face time that much more confusing when we do get there.

I guess it's time we got back to saying what we mean and meaning what we say.

Another song on the Melt cd has a line that goes "I say what I feel it gets me into trouble I feel what I say "

Miscommunication or what?

Because of my fears

This became an interesting night.

Because of my extreme fears of rejection in every form, and therefore my inability to do something as simple as send an email to Mr. Shelley; I ended up in a 4 hour conversation with Buddy #P about men and women and who should make the first move.

Even with all the society breakdowns we have, there is still a stigma on a woman making any kind of first move. Yeah, even one my age.
Worse if you are not on the same level as the man. As in, not as good looking or wealthy.

My buddy said and I am quoting him "Screw that. Go for it."
I laughed then panicked some more.

One of my favourite quotes is from Trading Up by Candace Bushnell "A woman is limited by the men that desire her."
It does not say anything about a man being limited. You choose us, we do not choose you.