The Next Generation

Mother's Day was a mixed bag yesterday. Sort of a really nice time bookended by suckiness. I woke up with a migraine and had to beg the SO to take munchkin for while. That while turned out to be 6 hours while I moaned and groaned and tried to sleep my headache away.



When I finally emerged from the cave we wasted no time. We were on a mission. We had to begin the immediate indoctrination of the next generation of Trekkers. For Mother's Day my SO (who is not really a Trekker, but enjoys the series) and Z took me to see Star Trek. The movie was good. Not "blow me away" awesome, but above average. *Spoiler Alert- skip to next paragraph if you don't want a spoiler* Though as usual, Star Trek did the old fall back: When in doubt-time travel. It was rather ingenious the way they left it at the end. They can now write a whole new line of Star Trek adventures.



Of course in the process we have now taken Z to his first Star Trek movie. He was quite good. With the help of a bottle he slept his way through the first half and then sat on one of our laps the second half alternating between playing with his feet (his new favorite toy) and watching the moving images on the screen.



As I said, though, bookended by suckiness. My mother is back in the hospital. The woman doesn't listen to anything or anyone. We told her she wasn't ready to come home from the nursing home, but she was not to be persuaded. She lasted less than 24 hours and is now back in the hospital and my step-father is not sounding so good. The man had diabetes, emphysema, and has had multiple back surgeries. Add to this he's trying to also raise my 12 year old brother and tell me how she ever expected him to "take care of her." But this is a very long rant that goes on and on and is essentially down to the fact that I live 600 miles away from them all and I have multiple siblings in the immediate area that need to get off their collective arses and take care of this.



We went to my favorite pizza place after the movie and I had an allergic reaction to something. I have no food allergies, but suddenly my mouth got numb and my face started swelling. I took a load of antihistamines and ended up back in bed to sleep that off.

Yep. Bookended by suckiness. The good part is I'm pretty sure I'll only remember the good stuff.

The Great Escape

Seeing Me got two nice reviews.

One from Simply Romance Reviews said: "...the heroine who at times exhibits a remarkably strong case of “foot-in-mouth” disease that is charming. The erotic scene is poignant for its sweetness. The hero for all his hype and reputation is endearing for his modest, almost shy personality in private. Seeing Me is an enjoyable read for those that aren’t looking for kink, but instead a satisfying romance."

And Romance Reviews TodayErotica rated it multiple O’s (which has to be good) and said it was: "An enticing short story, ..." Seeing Me is a Quickie from Ellora’s Cave.

The Great Escape.

No, I’m not necessarily talking about my escape from headgear bondage…let me rephrase that, from my medical bondage…that doesn’t work either…ah hell, I don’t mean getting this thing off my head. Though I’m counting the hours to freedom and dreading the drive back home to wash the gunk out of my head. I have my trusty hoodie ready to go. I tried a scarf, but I look like I’m smuggling something and I really don’t want to meet the Cobb County drug dogs.

By the great escape I’m referring to a tactical error I may have made yesterday. Okay, I’m not the world’s best housekeeper. I have four dogs, there is dog hair on my floor. I have paw prints on my carpet where the red clay has stained it. I don’t dust nearly as often as I should. So I got a little behind on the bird cage this week.

Yesterday I took the cage outside to clean it really well. The birds were still in it, and I cleaned it while they sunned themselves. The only problem is I think they liked their taste of freedom a bit too much. Now they are plotting escape.

No I didn’t bump my head and I haven’t received a nasty shock from my battery pack. I know the two criminals are plotting their escape. Don’t be fooled by their innocent look. Every time they think I’m not looking they start testing the cage for signs of weakness. Even now, when they think I’m busy making the clacking noises, I can see them. Pip, the blue one, is climbing the wall of the cage and pecking at the wires with it’s beak. Green-bird, yes that’s it’s name, is standing on the food dish pecking at the little door that slides up to take the dishes in and out. Earlier I saw them hanging to either side of the door pecking at it.

I’m telling you they tasted freedom and now they want out. Next thing I know they’ll be dragging their little metal bell across the bars screaming, “Let me out you stinking screw.” (Yes, my mother watched Cell Block H when I was growing up.) In fact right now Pip has started wrestling with the bell. I tell you one of them is a little birdie MacGyver who is figuring out how to blow the door off the cage with bird seed, a small metal bell and a mirror.

You know, that was two television references in the space of a single paragraph. Odd if you consider the fact that I haven’t really watched television in almost five years if you don’t count occasionally watching American Idol. I am hooked this season. I love little folksy Brooke with her whole Carol King-ish persona and David Cook. I like that he causes controversy and think he’s actually very talented. Chris Cornell can shut up. The dude from Crowded House was doing an acoustic version of Billy Jean way, way, way back.

But the hometown dude Michael Johns, the Australian who claims to be from Buckhead (not the town, mind you-this is a neighborhood in Atlanta) has got to go. He’s the guy who ends up singing on the Love Boat because he can’t get any other gigs. He annoys the crap out of me and if he tries to do one more Queen song Freddie Mercury is going to rise up out of his grave and smite the dude.

Anyway. If I think about it, it’s odd that I don’t watch television any more. My family could not function without a television. It was the center point of our family. Tonight we watched this, tomorrow night it was that. And heaven help us on the nights the Dukes of Hazzard was on because you had to tiptoe around so my stepdad could hear it.

Even now the tv runs night and day as long as someone is awake. It is a constant drone in the back ground. Recently on a visit it was driving me crazy. Everyone was in the dinning area playing cards so I turned it off. About ten minutes later someone looks up and says, "What's that noise." I swear it was straight out of a sitcom. They actually made me turn it back on even though no one was watching it. My mom said the quiet was creepy. I know I'm so adopted.

My stepdad and I bonded over television. We were both Trekkers, the only thing we had in common back then. We could sit down in peace and watch reruns of the original series and The Next Generation. This was our truce, our neutral territory in the war. A war that lasted until we both realized that in fact we were pawns in a much more devious game. Neither of us were generals, we were hostages in my mother’s Machiavellian quest for supremacy. Divide and conquer.

It worked until we saw through her plan. Together we now make her pay for her treachery. It’s amazing how much damage a second universal remote can do. Not to mention technology she can’t figure out. “You want to watch what, Mom?” I say innocently. “Well I know the tv guide says it’s on, but look for yourself, this is the right channel it’s not here.” *evil laughing ensues*

Don’t feel sorry for her! Do you have any idea how many times she’s made us watch the Barbara Streisand version of A Star Is Born? Do you know how many Elvis movies she’s tortured us with? I get nauseous just thinking about Charro.


Friday is the deadline for the contest. I’m looking forward to going through the entries. The contest is to celebrate the release of Mating Stone by Ellora’s Cave. The hero of Mating Stone, Mark Ursine is a Were-Bear as is his twin brother Luke the hero of the upcoming July release, Lovers’ Stone. The Ursines present their lady loves with stones rather than engagement rings. For Mark and Sarah it’s an amethyst. So to win the 17” freshwater pearl and amethyst necklace here’s what you need to do. Write a brief answer to the following question and send it to ElyssaWrites@aol.com with “Mating Stone Contest” in the subject line. I’ll pick the best response as the winner, and two honorable mentions to receive smaller prizes. The winning entries will appear in my blog on April 13th.

In Mating Stone, Mark falls in love with Sarah. Sarah, a young human woman who has no idea that Were’s even exist beyond novels and movies. Strictly fictional. As a human woman, how do you react when Mr. Yummy tells you he’s the one with claws and may just leave fur on the sheets? So tell me: What type of Were is Mr. Wonderful and how does he break it to you?

MeMe'd x3

Okay my friends, I've been meme'd three times over. For those of you who don't know what this means, it means I've been "blog-tagged" and have to give out six random facts about myself. Well, you're only getting six, not 18 because...well...frankly, I'm not that interesting.

1. I love peaches. I will consume almost anything with this flavor. Tea most especially but certainly not excluding alcoholic drinks. Imagine my delight when I discovered a sparkling peach wine to celebrate at New Years. Yummm

2. I'm a nerd. Yep, I can nerd-out with the best of them. I get excited about diagramming sentences, Star Trek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and even more embarrassing things which I refuse to reveal. I have multiple costumes not used for Halloween but for things like Cons and Ren Fests. (YeeHaw folks, an excuse to have picture of Spike two days running makes me a happy girl.)

3. I'm afraid of alligators. No, you don't understand, not just afraid--phobia afraid. My SO is from Florida and I hate going to visit the in-laws. Not because of the in-laws, but because this requires going to the land of the alligator. I tell you they are lined up at the Georgia/Florida border waiting to get me.

4. I know several children's books by heart. The SO is a Youth Services Librarian and I am often the practice dummy for story times. So certain phrases have been altered in our house. "I don't care," must be immediately followed by "said Pierre and so the lion ate him then and there." "Me too," must be followed by "said the chick." And the word "terrible," cannot be said in isolation but must be followed by "horrible, no good, very bad day. Mom says somedays are like that, even in Austrailia."

5. I have OCD and ADD so I HAVE to lose interest in what you're saying... (I so need someone to make that into a tshirt. I'd buy one for every day of the week.) I can loop on things until my darling one looks at me and asks if I've taken my medication. This OCD manifests itself most particularly in my books. I have books on my shelves and they are organized by author and then in chronological order of the series. If one of my books is out of order I must fix it. Right now. The SO will torment me at times by moving books on the shelf. If a book I haven't read yet is on the shelf of books I have read I must fix it. NOW!

6. I live in a zoo. We own four dogs, a cocker spaniel named Shiloh who is literally insane, a Brittany named George who thinks he can cook and subsequently almost burns down the house about once a week, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Gracie Sue who is unaware that the breed standard says "not for rough play," and a miniature dachshund named Wendell who believes he is human. We have two birds, a blue parakeet named Pip and a green and yellow one named Green Bird. We have three neon tetras who do not have a name except for fishies and a snail my SO now has us all calling Snailie-po.

I have delayed in resonding to my meme'd stated because I cannot think of six people to tag in return. I do promise to do so, but that must come at a later time.