Steamy Saturday: No Rest for the Wicked

 

Copyright- Artfully Aspiring

Copyright- Artfully Aspiring

*Note: This is Part Three of a continuous Steamy Saturday series. Please visit Part One and Part Two to ensure ultimate steaminess.*

The subtle movement of the bed pulls me out of my sleep, as Mitch lies down next to me. I keep my eyes closed and struggle to keep my breathing shallow. I’m sure he’s too decent of a man to try anything while I’m sleeping, but I partially wish he wasn’t.

The screams of my body, aching for his touch, go unanswered. Eventually, I accept the reality that he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

But then I feel the slight bowing of the bed as he rolls on his hip, moving closer to me. Though we’re not touching, I can feel the heat of his body filling the gap between us. My pulse quickens, and I suddenly feel the jolt of energy to make the next move. Before I can, his arm encircles my waist. Mitch pulls me against him, and there’s a frenzy of excitement in my body, making it impossible to suppress a smile. He buries his head into the side of my neck. The stubble on his chin tickles me, while his sultry breath invigorates my tender skin.

You need to wake up,” he murmurs softly into my hair. I press myself into him further, fusing every curve of my body to his. “Come on, Abby,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I giggle under my breath and intertwine my fingers around his.

Abby, we’ve got to move!”

My eyes shoot open, and Mitch is standing by the door, with the black bag in his hand. My heart drops. I scramble off the bed and try to pull myself out of the dreamy fog. I look down to see that I’m still fully dressed, shoes and all, and I suddenly feel incredibly gross.

Can I shower, at least?” I quickly comb my fingers through my knotted hair.

Not here.” He grabs me by the hand and pulls me against the door with him. “A couple of them just walked into the motel office,” Mitch says in a hushed voice while scanning through the side of the window.

How could you see them?”

They can change into practically any form, and right now, they’re humans so they can track us easier.”

What do we do?”

Well, I’m guessing they’ll get the guy to rat on us, one way or another, and we don’t have enough time to book it to my bike, unnoticed.” He looks back at me, his eyes steady. “They’re going to ambush us.”

So, we’re just going to let them?”

He grabs me by the hand and takes me to the bathroom. “You need to stay in here, and I’ll take care of them.”

Can’t I help?” Is all I manage to ask before Mitch closes the door between us. I hear heavy scraping across the floor and then a thud against the bathroom door. The fact that I’m barricaded-in answers my question. With nothing else to do, I lean against the door to listen.

Nothing but subtle clicking and metallic popping sounds, as Mitch loads whatever weapons he’s kept hidden in the bag….And then, silence. Though I can’t see him, something between us tells me he’s collected and prepared, and that comforts me a little.

The crashing glass and splintering wood rip through the silence. Instantaneously, gunfire pierces my ears. I jump and trip backward into the shower. As I slam into the porcelain, I hear a pause in the chaos. Then, heavy footsteps approaching the bathroom. The ground shudders as the dresser separating us is shoved to the side. I press myself further against the wall and reach to pull the shower curtain closed, but I know it won’t save me.

Mitch!” My voice trembles and cracks.

The doorknob violently shakes, and my eyes lock onto the little button in the middle, praying it doesn’t give way.

Mitch…Please!” I scream, tears streaming down my face.

I watch as the knob loosens, weakening with every rattle. And then a heavy force slams against it. Two more gunshots just outside the door and then a strange sizzling.

Abby, unlock the door!” Mitch yells between labored breaths.

I gain stability in my quivering legs before running to the door. As soon as hit the button, Mitch pulls me out with one arm, wrapping it around me and pulling me through thick smoke. All I can see are the several writhing bodies sprawled across the room and the morning light guiding us outside.

My lungs fight for oxygen as we run to the bike. Mitch promptly sits me on it and intently straps on my helmet. I want to help him, by my fingers refuse to move, and my trembling lips refuse to speak. He presses his hands against my cheeks, as his eyes dart across my face.

Are you alright?”

I part my lips, but nothing.

Abby?” His voice waivers.

Mitch’s eyes widen, as his hands frantically pull-off my helmet and slide to the back of my head. The soothing rubbing of his fingers as they examine my skull enlivens me. My nerves begin to weave back together.

Yes,” I murmur loosely.

His hands jump to my face again.

Are you ok?”

I nod my head.

Alright, you’re riding up front.” He slides me to the front of the bike before sitting behind me. Mitch places my feeble hands on each of the handles before pulling a combination of switches and levers and placing his strong hands beside mine. We fly out of the parking lot and harshly turn onto a main road. My body jolts around with each bump until Mitch slides further into me and presses his thighs against mine. I feel secure, but I also feel…

Abby? Abby, stay with me! We’re almost there,” his voice cuts through the rambling of the bike.


I hope you enjoyed this week’s Steamy Saturday. I posted it a bit early because I’ll be gone for the weekend, while traveling across the state for my first 5K since my significant running injuries last fall. So, while I may not respond to your comments promptly, I truly appreciate them and would love to hear your input!

Keep it steamy,

Adelie

*P.S. In case you’re wondering, I’ve decided to use personal photographs for Steamy Saturday posts from this point on. I wasn’t finding the photos I was looking for online, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I am by no means a model, so take it easy on me! Also, these images may not be reproduced or redistributed, not only because it is my body and my property, but because no one wants to see that! 😉

 

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Up in Flames

 

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright -Mary Shipman

 

It’s a great fixer-upper…perfect for newlyweds,” the realtor chimed as I scribbled my signature.

With naivety and honeymoon smiles, my husband and I gazed at the crumbling castle that we vowed to make our kingdom.

Only two weeks later, I came home with paint and paste to find him drilling something other than the floorboards.

There comes a point when you can only repair something so much.

Despite his praying and pleading, I knew there was no way to restore this to its original beauty.

No more wasting time with tools.

 

With gasoline and a lighter, I make my final improvement.


 

I truly appreciate you taking the time to read my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the magnificent Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I’ll keep this short, because I’m sure you have better things to do than read my blabbering- like checking out some other stories from fellow fictioneers!

Eternally grateful for your love and support,

Adelie

Steamy Saturday: On the Run

Copyright- Artfully Aspiring

Copyright- Artfully Aspiring

I don’t know about you, but it’s been a while since I’ve steamed up my Saturday- a month-and-a-half to be more specific. It’s been rough, but I think the chaos has died down enough to let the steam roll in again. In case your memory is a bit fuzzy, please visit the first post of this Steamy Saturday series. And if you’re new here- well, you don’t have much catching-up to do!

 

 

I clutch his jacket tighter with every bump and curve. He’s driving fast, and I worry that the moment I lose my grip around Mitch’s sculpted body, I’ll fly off the back of the bike and into the claws of whatever might be chasing us.
After following the shoreline of Lake Michigan for nearly an hour, we finally slow down as we turn into a small motel with a faded wooden sign that reads, “Whispering River Motel.” Without saying a word to me, Mitch parks and climbs off the bike. I quickly follow him into the main office. He speaks with an older man behind the desk, who’s warily glancing at the license and credit card Mitch hands him. Meanwhile, I pull my drowsy gaze across the lodge-inspired wallpaper and to a rustic, bear shaped clock that tells me it’s 11:33 pm.
Okay, so maybe we were riding for more than an hour…
Anxiety trickles into my blood as I realize that, wherever I am, I’m a great distance from my home…with a man whose last name I have yet to learn.
“Alright, Mr. Glazebrook. Will this be a standard room or the lovers’ sweet?”
“Standard with two beds,” Mitch quickly responds while tapping his fingers on the desk.
“All we have left are single beds, sir.”
“That’s fine.” He slowly exhales, but it doesn’t relieve the visible tension from his body.
“Here ya go,” the man says while handing a single key to Mitch. “Room thirteen, the last one on the right.”
Before we walk to the room, Mitch returns to his motorcycle and grabs  a small black bag from the hidden compartment. As we walk into the musty motel room and turn on the flickering wall sconces, Mitch promptly closes the door behind us. He tightens all three locks and then glances through the curtain at the nearly empty parking lot. After a few seconds he turns to face me, his furrowed brow softens a little.
“How are you?” His eyes are on mine, but I know his attention is elsewhere.
“I…I’m fine,” I cautiously reply while sitting on the edge of the bed. He slowly paces around the room as if he’s searching for something.
“Look, it’s been a rough night. You should get some sleep.” Mitch walks to the other end of the room and pauses at the large window, looking out into the woods behind us.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what the hell happened back there?”
Still facing the window, I notice the back of his head slightly pivoting as he peers between the trees. “There’s not much to say at this point, Abby.”
“What are you talking about?” I burst up from the bed and approach him. “We almost got killed…by things we couldn’t even see. You blew up the bookstore, for heaven’s sake!”
He quickly turns on his heel and, placing his hands on my shoulders, pushes me away from the window.
“We’re not much safer here than we were back there, alright? You need to sleep while I figure out what the hell to do next.”
“I thought you said this was your life. Why don’t you have a plan?”
“This life is too sporadic to allow for planning,” he snarls. I sit back down on the bed and watch as his skin reddens, his veins surface, and his pacing quickens. “You think I knew they were tracking me? Like it was my plan to get you in the middle of all this?” He runs his hand through his hair before tightening it into a fist. “Any other time, I’d be fine. But now that you’re here, it makes my job a hundred times more difficult. Not only do I have to find out what the hell is after me-us, but now I have to watch both of our backs.”
“Sorry I’m such a burden,” I snap, “Just take me to a bus station, and I’ll get out of your way.”
Mitch stops in his tracks and takes a deep breath before sitting next to me.
“Look,” his voice softens, “I’m not behaving like I should, and I’m sorry for that. Thing is, I wasn’t lying back at the bookstore when I said that anyone that get involved with me and this lifestyle always gets hurt. It’s hard enough trying not to get myself killed.”
“Okay, then I’ll just go home, and you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“That’s the thing, Abby…” He turns to me with a look of defeat. “You’re already in this. The second they saw us together, they branded you with a kill tag. Not just them, but all the other wretched things out there have just added you to their hit-lists. There’s no compromising or exceptions. Once you’re a target, they won’t stop until you’re dead.”
My stomach drops as I realize the deadly reality of everything. This isn’t just some fantasy or weekend fling. My fate is marred and in the hands of a complete stranger. Everything that I thought was myth and fiction is now a haunting possibility. Shivering, I wrap my arms around my stomach. Seconds later, Mitch takes off his jacket and places it over my shoulders.
“Am I ever going home, back to my regular life?”
Mitch doesn’t respond. All that’s to be heard is the faint squeaking of the wooden motel sign, swinging back-and-forth in the evening breeze. With nothing left to say, I move to the head of the bed and slide beneath the covers. Mitch turns off the light and sits in the chair beside the window, still facing me.
“You can sleep in the bed too,” I mention, noticing the faint glow of the street lamp accentuating his stoic features, which I strangely find comforting.
“I’m going to keep a lookout and determine our next move.” His eyes scan the parking lot before returning to mine.
“You’ve got to sleep sometime.” I worry that my persistence is exposing my desire for his body to be next to mine.
“I will when you’re safe.” I know there’s nothing left of this discussion.
“Alright…Goodnight, then.” I close my eyes and replay this awkward, yet intense, sequence of events with this mysterious man. My heart sinks as I settle in to this cold, lonely bed. I’ve always been independent, but this is a rare time in my life where I could really use some support. But then I remember that I’m nothing but a liability to him.
As I drift off, I peek between a sliver of my eyelids.
Mitch’s gaze drifts across my face, the hurricane in his eyes now turned calmed waters.

 


 

Thank you so very much for steaming up your Saturday with me! To be honest, I had to de-steam this post a bit to make next week’s even hotter! I truly hope you enjoyed this, and I hope your weekend is filled with steam, spice, and everything nice!

En Gedi

Embed from Getty Images

Happy Friday to you! I’m so excited to finally publish this lyrical poem. Over a month ago, I was challenged by a fellow Friday Fictioneer, Kent Bonham, to write a poem, based on a love story that took place at the oasis, called En Gedi. Furthermore, Kent sent me a link to a song titled “En Gedi,” whose tune I had to match with my lyrics. First off, I was (and still am) sincerely honored that Kent thought I had enough potential and skill to pull this off. It meant the world to me to be taken seriously as a writer and to be challenged to further develop my skills. However, with this honor, there was a significant amount of stress. First off, I didn’t want to disappoint Kent and humiliate myself with subpar writing. Secondly, if you’ve read my “Please Forgive Me” posts, you’ll know that May was one hell of a month for trauma and stress, so even after it all settled down, it took me some time to clear my head and get back in the game. They say, “Better late than never,” right?
So I really do hope you give this a read, and your feedback is always appreciated.
***But wait, there’s more! I’ve included the link for you to actually download the song from which this was inspired. So I strongly urge you to listen along with the poem, so you can get the full experience! 🙂

En Gedi

En Gedi
Once I saw your emerald eyes across the way,
What I knew as life had dulled beneath your shine.
Your melody made it impossible,
To leave this world without your hand in mine.

And when you spoke, each sacred word I cherished,
Fearing someday that’s all I’d have of you.
For En Gedi was all that would endure,
After hearts drowned in dead seas of blue.

En Gedi, En Gedi, an oasis of eternal love.
En Gedi En Gedi, where my angel graced before she rose above.

En Gedi, En Gedi, had I known what the waters foretold,
I would give my life for her to blossom old.
I would give my life for her to blossom old.

Days are long and bereft of any purpose.
All that remains are the dark tides of regret.
Footprints of your life, stolen by time’s greed.
Your pure essence, I refuse to forget.

The ocean holds all the tears I’ve shed for you,
And En Gedi weeps for you as well.
There’s slight comfort, knowing you’re in heaven.
My despair has nearly damned me straight to hell.

En Gedi, En Gedi, it gave life to us, then seized it back.
En Gedi, En Gedi, it drained color from my heart and turned it black.

En Gedi, En Gedi, had I known what the waters foretold,
My love would still be mine to have and to hold.
My love would still be mine to have and to hold.

Thank you so much for reading this, and I really hope it wasn’t too much of a disaster, being that I’m a poetry novice. It’s ridiculous how many times I’ve rewritten this, completely from scratch, before I came up with something I was finally satisfied with.
A special thanks to Kent, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity to better recognize my strengths and weaknesses. I apologize that my personal issues and perfectionism led to a bit of procrastination, and I hope I didn’t stray too far from the original story. This is just where the multiple attempts led me- What a journey this has been!

My deepest gratitude,

Adelie

On the Lam

 

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Ted Strutz

The bloody bandages reluctantly tug and tear, as Dr. Goldstein peels them from my skin.
Liberated from the mummy wrap, my pores drink in the musty office air.
He holds up a tarnished mirror, revealing a face whose only resemblance to mine are the wary green eyes.
“They won’t recognize you.” Beaming, he admires his handiwork before glancing out the window. “You’re going to miss the boat!”

I hustle down the stairs and to the dock.

Peering over my shoulder, I board the ferry.

Sedated by the blaring horn and salty breeze, I silently vanish from my family, the mafia.

 


 

Thank you so very much for giving my Friday Fictioneers story a read. Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (“The Boss”) inspires her clan of highly imaginative fictioneers to sharpen their skills with 100 word flash fiction stories. You’re more than welcome to join the fun- our family is always looking for fresh meat. Please click on the link to see the handiwork of my fellow mobsters!

Are YOU up for a challenge?

 

This morning, I got up extra early to squeeze in a run before work. I was lucky enough to have fifteen extra minutes after my run, so I sat on the front porch and did something I haven’t in a long time. I admired the beauty of the freshly planted lilies around me and enjoyed the melody of my neighborhood. At 5:15 am, the only melody was that of chirping birds.

Meanwhile, I started thinking of how ridiculously self-conscious I am. I have literally never met (or heard of) anyone who lives so carefully as I do. Someone who tries not to fit in, but to be completely invisible. I didn’t inherit this trait (if that’s what it is), and I certainly didn’t catch it from my friends or even my husband. However, I have a strong conviction that it stems largely from being bullied in junior high, as I remember being a much more fearless Adelie before that.

Isn’t that stupid, though? That the words and actions of my classmates, from over ten years ago, still dictate how I live and how I express myself?

Aside from my writing here and my relationship with my husband, I live my life as an enormous apology. I tread softly as to not hurt others or make them upset. Also, by keeping to myself, I’m safe from ridicule for how absurd my dreams are. Living a safe life may not be fun or gratifying, but at least I’m the one inflicting pain on myself.

Yes, even I realize how faulty that logic is.

So, I told myself that today was going to be different. In case you’re a new follower or you haven’t noticed, I switched my blog’s tagline about a week ago. I did so in the hopes to inspire myself and to hopefully inspire you as well. Recently, I’ve made a habit of asking myself every morning, “How am I going to make today a masterpiece?”Today, I’m not going to hide anymore. I’m not going to walk around with my eyes down and silently mutter “sorry” to every car that tailgates me in my Prius. I’m not going to apologize, either with words or actions, if I haven’t truly done anything wrong.

So how did I do with this challenge?

Well, this morning, my close friend, and coworker, asked what I’ve been up to. I told her about my writing.

I never tell people about my writing.

Surprisingly, she told me how much she admired that I could write, as she couldn’t imagine having the drive to write more than a short email, let alone a book. So, by opening up this (very significant) part of myself, I deepened a friendship and received some helpful feedback.

Thus, my challenge to you, my dear friend, is to do something today, no matter how big or small, to express an essential part of yourself that you often keep hidden. I would especially love hearing about your experiences, if you feel comfortable doing so. No worries if you don’t come across this post five days or five years after I’ve written it. It’s never too late to challenge yourself!

If you happen to be one of the people who leave no aspect of yourself unseen, then I truly admire your courage, and I hope you might share your wisdom!

*It might go without saying, but I’m going to add this anyway, as a reminder to myself. It takes more than just one day to banish a habit of hiding. The point is to challenge yourself, every day, until living authentically no longer becomes a challenge.

To living fearlessly and passionately,

Adelie

 

My Failed Attempt at a Brief Award Post

Alright, so I feel like a very bad blogger. I was nominated by the wonderful Scent of Rina for the Liebster Award in Mid April, then by WhatSassSays a few days later, by Kevil a few days after that, and then by Splendid Empress in Mid May. First of all, I’m tremendously grateful that these lovely bloggers thought to nominate me. Though, with the chaos of my life recently, I’ve struggled to find the time to adequately express my gratitude.

Scent of Rina, I’ve been a follower nearly from the time I first started my blog. Your poetry is very reflective and has great depth, beyond words. There’s nothing but truth to your writing, which makes it irresistible and very intense! I sincerely admire your courage and talent.

WhatSassSays, your blog is where I travel when I’m on the quest to reconnect with my feminine side. You have this tremendous energy and charisma that flows from your writing, and you have wonderful aspirations. I see several similarities between us both, and I always look forward to seeing what goals you achieve next. I regret taking my college years too seriously, so it’s nice to live vicariously through your adventures!

Andrea and Kevil (Michelle) at Pretend to be Nice, I think it’s AWESOME that you two have collaborated to create such a fascinating blog. Your writing is full of wisdom, whimsy, and wit. Although I’m a very new follower of yours, I’ve already found so much joy in your pieces.

Splendid Empress,Though I’m a very new follower of yours, I’ve already found much entertainment in your writing, both fiction and nonfiction. Your voice is authentic and entrancing, and I’m in awe at how easily you can transport me into different worlds!


So, here are the rules of the Liebster Award. The recipient must:

-provide a link back to the blogger(s) who nominated them

-share 11 facts about yourself

-answer 11 questions from the blogger(s) who nominated you

-nominate 11 other bloggers and ask them 11 questions of your own


Whew, so along with my life pulling me in twenty different directions at once, you can see why I was slightly overwhelmed to tackle this thing. Being that I’ve been nominated by four blogs, I won’t bore you with 44 facts about myself and 44 questions. First of all, I know you have better things to do with your time than read my life story. Secondly, I’m not that interesting of a person, and if by some chance I happened to be that riveting, I would save all of that captivating info for an autobiography. So, I shall share eleven facts about myself, but as for the 11 questions, I’m going to pick and choose from all of the questions my fellow bloggers sent me. Is that cheating? I hope not!

So, on to the 11 facts about myself…If any of you have read my Acceptance of the Versatile Blogger Award, you’ll find that my deepest, darkest secrets can be rather dark indeed. My intention is to keep this list light and less intense. However, since I took so long to write this post, I want to give you some high quality stuff here. So, let’s see where this goes!


IMAG0414

  1. I have a tattoo. I was (and still kind of am) a “good girl.” Let me clarify, I was a band geek, a book nerd, and am a rather quiet introvert. So, I never thought I’d be the “type” to get a tattoo. However, for my 1st wedding anniversary, I decided to show my eternal love for my husband by getting a tattoo with our wedding flower, the stargazer lily on it. Lilies are very symbolic, and their meanings range from devotion and wealth to romance and purity. Personally, I chose this tattoo to express my devotion to my husband and our companionship. I did a tattoo taboo and had his name tattooed on me as well, though we found a way to make it blend in rather artfully. My intention is to have our future children’s names tattooed along side as additional flowers or leaves. That being said, I need to forget how terribly that needle hurt before I can have their names carved into me. Then again, after childbirth, it’ll probably be a walk in the park. 🙂

  2.  I scare quite easily. My husband and coworkers find it amazingly entertaining to pop out at me and stuff. The worst part, I don’t let out a cute little girl scream. No, when I’m scared, I mean business. I yell expletives in a voice lower than the average range of the female voice and I move in a way that is best described as interpretive karate. It’s not a pretty sight, and it has proven quite dangerous for any bystanders within the range of my flailing arms.

  3. I have a terrible habit of picking my nails. I’ve had this ever since I can remember. It’s not just anxiety symptom either. I do it whenever I’m watching anything on screen. I’ve tried several things to kick this habit but no luck yet.

  4. I was assaulted by Ramen Noodles. When I was thirteen, I made a pot of them, and instead of pouring them into a bowl and draining the boiling liquid, I just decided to eat it right out of the pot… in a rocking chair…wearing *only*skimpy underwear. In my defense, it was a scorching day and my house didn’t have air conditioning. So I wore underwear or swimsuits basically 24/7. Anyway, you see where this is going….The pot completely tipped over into my bare lap. I can’t explain the pain (much worse than the tattoo) and then the horrifying sight of watching my skin bubble and fall off,<-unfortunately, this is not an exaggeration. To make matters worse, at the hospital, my nurses and doctors were all male. So, being a thirteen year old girl with a crotch covered in second degree burns and men looking at the area and talking about it was a humiliating cherry on top of the experience.

  5. I was in a child modeling agency for a VERY brief time in my life. I recorded a commercial for Boo Berry cereal, but the thing never aired. Modeling wasn’t the life for me. I remember them instructing us how to open and close doors (I kid you not, there was a step-by-step process) and how to sit and stand and such. Good things to know, I suppose, but it was all too artificial to me. The final straw was when they told me, “Your finger nails aren’t tools.” ← I don’t have a degree in biology(changed 2 years into it), but I’m pretty sure that’s the entire purpose of homosapiens having nails….Yeah, not the life for me.

  6. On a related note, I’m too short to be a model. Tuns out I stopped growing (height-wise) when I hit high school. Since then, I’ve been an intimidating 5’2.” Sure, I still have to climb on counters to get things from the top cupboards, but I have no complaints. Except, that people tend to think I’m still in high school. Thus, I’ve been treated as naïve and ignorant…Kind of like a kid in the workplace.

  7. In my second semester of college, my favorite professor died *literally* right in front of me. His name was Dr. Matthew Hilton-Watson and was an amazingly inspiring man and only 41 years old. They never determined what the cause was. Here’s where the story gets even creepier. That day, we were finishing a lecture on Emile Zola’s L’œuvre (The Masterpiece). At the end of that novel, basically, every character dies. So when Dr. Matt began the lecture, he said something to the tune of “Ok, today everyone’s going into the ground.” Later on, he was talking about how you never know when “yourtime,” will come. He explained how nothing is guaranteed, and even if you’re the healthiest person, you could get hit by a bus and be gone the next second. In the middle of the lecture, Dr. Matt stoped speaking before falling to the floor and convulsing. Being the nerd I am, I always sat front row, dead center. So….it happened directly in front of me. It was a highly traumatic and devasting experience, as all of us tried to figure out what the hell to do. Some tried to steady him while others called the ambulance and campus safety. I was stunned, and even though I called for an ambulance, I still to this day wish and wonder if I could’ve done something else. From that, I was diagnosed with PTSD, but I’ve since worked through it. Nonetheless, it’s a memory that never fades.

  8.           I broke my left humerus (by flying off the side of a curly slide) the day before my eleventh birthday. It was a clean break, so I only needed an immobilizer, as opposed to a cast. To this day, whenever I’m standing or walking, I uncosciously carry my hand still like it was in the immobilizer. In other words, I look like half of a T-rex, whenever I’m doing somethng that doesn’t require the use of my left hand.                            

  9. I’m incredibly awkward with children, or at least I feel that way. For instance, when I was sitting at the Secretary of State today (DMV), there was this adorable girl (I’m guessing she was two or three). She kept walking over to me, pointing and smiling. I wanted so bad to hug her and have a nice discussion, but I didn’t know what the heck to say. I started telling her about Liebster Award and trying to get her input on my 11 facts, but she laughed and walked away. Warning to parents: Don’t let your kids talk to me. This awkwardness might be contagious.

  10. I’m a vegetarian (and mostly vegan). Whenever people ask me why, I simply tell them that my choices come from my passion for animal welfare. I leave it at that, unless any more is asked. Maybe it’s weird that I’m so passionate about this, but I never preach it to people and look down on them because they choose to do something different. Yes, it would be amazing if everyone decided to use other food sources that are kinder to our planet and the creatures on it; however, it’s not my place to press or guilt someone into viewing the world I do. I’ve had several people try and provoke me as to why my choice is wrong, but I simply smile and let them speak their piece. I believe that if more people stood up for these unpopular beliefs, the world would be a better place. However, I don’t feel the right to condemn others for their choices. I’d much rather inspire others to make more compassionate choices by setting a positive example and providing support.

  11. My favorite sound in the world is that of the Sandhill Crane. When I lived in a more rural part of Michigan, I would always hear them flying overhead. Somehow, their call just makes me feel so peaceful. I wish I heard it more where I live now!

Whew, are you still with me? Good! So now I’m supposed to answer 11 questions from my nominators. I’ll do my best to keep these short, at the risk of appearing blunt!

  1. 1. What are the subjects you could never write about? Though I strive to write among a wide variety of genres, Iwould never want to write (in depth) about history. I never enjoyed the subject in school, and I might sound ignorant, but I’m extremely skeptical about what I read in history books. The thing is, some people can’t keep stories straight from the day before. Everyone remembers events differently, and who’s to say that someone didn’t alter the “facts” due to personal or political reasons. I know, I’m a downer. 😦

    2. If you could go to dinner with a famous person, who would it be? Well, could I just host a huge luncheon and invite a heap of famous people? There are so many people (famous and non) whose brains I’d love to pick and company I’d love to enjoy. However, Elen Degeneres would be one of my first because I admire her humility, humor, and generosity. I can’t imagine a dinner with her being anything short of entertaining and inspiring.

    3. What is one quirk that very few people know about you? I’m a chronically suggestible yawner. When someone (even animals) yawns in real life, on screen, or even if I read about or think about yawning, I honestly cannot not yawn. It’s terrible, embarassing, and dangerous when people find out because they find it amusing. I kid you not, I’ve yawned so much simultaneously that I’ve thrown up, on several ocassions. Maybe I should get this checked out? If you’re wondering, I was yawning throught this entire paragraph, and I will again when I have to edit it. Now, on to a different topic! Oh, there I go again…

    4.What is your favorite time of year? Easy, Fall. Apple cider, crunching leaves, and pumpkin everything- What’s not to love? Darn it, I’m yawning again!

    5.Do you believe in ghosts? I believe in spirits moreso than the common concept of ghosts. I swear on my life I looked out a window one night and saw a ghost- He was a middle-aged man in a track uniform with a racing bib, and he was getting ready to longjump into my window. It was terrifying. Though, I’ll chalk that up to being young, imaginitive child and say that I do believe our spirits or energies can reside on this planet. I’m not sure if they ever show up in the form of Casper though.

    6. What was your favorite Television show as a child? Sailor Moon. You can read more about my childhood obsession here.

    7. What would your dream job be? It would be an eclectic lifestyle. I’d love to be able to express myself creatively through writing and performance, but I also want to pursue global philanthropic efforst as well. Not to mention, I have a strong entrepreneural drive. I’m still figuring out how to balance all of those desires into a sustainable “career!”

    8.What advice would you give to the younger you? I would tell my younger self to stop worrying about what everyone thinks, to pursue my deepest passions instead of trying to please others. Also, I would insist that I need to love myself instead of searching for other people to love me.

    9. The world would be a better place if_________________? We gave up the need to be “right,” and we respected everyone’s differences. Also, if we could put ourselves in eachothers’ shoes (and paws) and realized that everyone deserves health and happiness.

    10.Do you believe in second chances? Absolutely. I believe it’s never too late. If it weren’t for second chances, I wouldn’t be married to such an incredible man. Life is about learning. Sometimes we don’t always get it “right” on the first shot.

    11.What is your day to day inspiration? The promise of what could be. I imagine how, if I put forth enough effort and dedication, I can give back to all of those who’ve helped me and make a positive difference in our world. I know that if I just float along life where I am, I’ll be sacrificing the chance to express my gratitude. One of the most powerful quotes I’ve found is, “Don’t die with your music still in you.”- Dr. Wayne Dyer.

My Questions:

1. What is one thing you have been meaning to do but haven’t seemed to find the time yet?

2. Are you more motivated by fear or hope?

3. If you could invent an ice cream flavor, what would it be?

4. What is the one word you would love people to use when they describe you?

5. Who do you most look up to and why?

6. If you could master one dance style, what would it be?

7. If you were a super hero, what would your name be?

8. What is one thing you’ll regret never doing?

9. What’s one word you always second-guess yourself when spelling it out?

10. What’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about you?

11. Fill in the blank: In a perfect world, ____________ would be everywhere.

Alright, so now I’m supposed to nominate 11 bloggers for the Liebster. Because this award seems to have gone mainstream, and I’ve taken a ridiculous amount of time to publish this post, I can’t guarantee that these bloggers havent already been nominated. Regardless, here are just eleven of the wonderfully talented blogers I follow, in no particular order:

****And, if you didn’t happen to pop up on this list, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t LOVE to learn more about you and read your answers to my questions. Thus, I might be breaking the rules here, but it’s my darn blog so….I nominate EVERYONE for the Liebster award.

X ALL THE THINGS - Nominate all the bloggers!

*(My first meme ever generated)

Properly Ridiculous

Victoria.K.Gallagher

ChattiNatti

The Wadering Poet

From Paradise to Eden

Hostess At Heart

Ripples of Truth

U Be Cute

A Cup of Noodle Soup

Words from Wellie

Diary of an Optimist

Whew. Did you make it? If so, I send my deepest gratitude for finishing this marathon of a post with me. And I would absolutely love to read a gargantuan post of yours filled with such juicy details!