What Could Have Been

The latest round of American Title III voting is underway. Go to Romantic Times and vote for your favorite dialogue. I've read through the remaining four entries and have to say it'll be a tough choice. Dang, I want all these folks to win, including those of us who have been voted off, of course : )

A couple of folks have asked what I entered for the dialogue portion. Well, here, take a look.

First, a little set-up. HAUNTED is a paranormal chick lit/womens fiction. Whatever you want to call it. It's about two friends, Georgie (aka Peach) and Min, trying to learn the details of Min's supposed accidental death. Had I not been exiled, had I made it to this round, this is what you would have seen for my entry:

“That’s why I’m still here, Peach. I thought it was the shock of the accident that held me back. You know, the spirit wasn’t ready to leave its earthly body, blah blah blah. But it wasn’t just the accident. I need to find out how it happened. Why it happened.”

I didn’t like where this was going. It was my turn to get up and pace. “And what happens then? What happens when you find out?”

“Then I can go on,” she said so softly, so hopefully I could have wept for both of us.

I stopped beside her chair. I could see individual hairs on her head, even the few gray ones only her stylist would’ve noticed. Threatening tears scraped my throat as I swallowed them down. “Go where, Min?”

She stared out the window as if all she’d ever wanted was in the breeze dancing through the willows. “I don’t know what to call it. Heaven. Nirvana. But I know I’m supposed to be there with Zayde Joe and Aunt Li and the others.”

My knees wobbled and I sank into a chair. “You want to go to them.”

She gave a small laugh. “Not that I have a choice.” Her eyes met mine. “But yeah, I do. It’s like there’s a knot of rope in my stomach, Peach, and on the other end are all these people from my past tugging and telling me it’s time to come home. But I can’t go. Not yet. I have to find out what really happened that night.”

“And when you find out--” My voice caught and I took a shaky breath. Tears pricked at my eyes. “When you find out I’ll lose you again.”

Girl's Day Out

Today was a "me" day. I don't have many of them, despite the fact I don't have an outside job and my two kids are in school. But see what kind of "me" days I tend to have and you'll understand why I'm not terribly upset by their low frequency.

I did my workout after dropping off my youngest at school (I'm STILL the same weight I was when I started 4 months ago, but I've lost inches and body fat percentage. Woo hoo!), came home to shower then went for my mammogram. Though I've heard tell of women having mammogram parties (where a bunch of them get their appointments together and make a day of it), I don't have a circle of friends with cooperative schedules, so I went it alone. After that, I went shopping. No, not shoe shopping or clothes shopping (*snort* Are you kidding? Here?). I bought dog food, glass cleaner, a rear view mirror adhesive kit, and laundry soap. I took myself to lunch where I did run into a friend and we chatted for a bit. Then, off to get my shaggy mane cut into submission. Now that I have laundry soap, I can finish up the week's laundry. Oh boy!

So I guess I did do one girlie thing today. Two, if you count the mammogram. Which, BTW, was fine, thank you.

A Not So Gentle Reminder

I received a notice in my mailbox the other day that said I had a certified letter at the post office. Apparently the mailperson attempted to deliver it, but I wasn't home. Or was in the shower. Or yelled at the dogs to shut up from up in my room/office when said mailperson knocked on the door, assuming the dogs were, once again, barking at the wind and not the door.

But I digress.

So I go to the post office and wait in line. I had a package I needed to send out anyway, so not a big problem. Oh, did I mention it was near blizzard conditions? It was. Anyhoo, I'm standing there, wondering who had sent ME a certified letter. I mean, that has never happened. Ever. Yes, I've led a sheltered life. My turn comes up. I hand over the package I need to send and my little buff-colored slip. The window person has me sign the thing twice. This must be some important letter, I think. She disappears in the back and emerges with my letter. I thank her and as I walk away I read the return address. The local hospital.

Oh, crud! Did I forget to mail in some bill or something? That's the only reason I could think they'd need to send me a letter I'd have to trundle to the post office and sign for to retrieve. I tear the envelope open and read the single page.

A reminder that I need to schedule a mammogram. They spent $4.64 to send me this missive. Four dollars and sixty-four cents.

Not that I don't appreciate the attention. I do. And I know how important mammograms are. Trust me. I'd received the first reminder a couple of months ago and, I admit, forgot to schedule one. I am usually very good about such things, but it got away from me this time.

But did they REALLY need to spend that kind of money? Really?

I was a bit miffed and made my feelings known to my work-out buddies. They were as stunned as I was. On the other hand, I scheduled my appointment that afternoon, as did another woman at the gym.

Okay, so it was worth $4.64.

And now I feel guilty for "making" them send the letter in a manner in which they'd be sure I'd get it.

Go make your appointments, ladies. You know you should. Don't "force" your health care provider to spend over $4 more than they should to remind you.

Happy New Year--Go Check These Out

I hope everyone has a Happy and Successful 2007. I, however, can't seem to come up with a blog topic just now so I'm passing you on to others (who are probably the only ones who read this anyway).

Go to Sharron McClellan's blog and check out the YouTube videos she's getting chuckles over. They are fuuuunny.

Then head to Tracy Montoya's blog where she lists things from 2006 she wishes hadn't been. I pretty much agree with her on every point, and hope her hubby gets to stay home.

Last, but far from least, visit Jody Wallace's livejournal blog. She's recently posted about untimely knocks upon the door and what she's read over the last year. I'm amazed at her organizational skills, plus, she's funny as hell.

Go. Read. Laugh. Start the year off right.