We interrupt this navel-gazing…
…to give away FIVE COPIES of my hot-off-the-UPS-truck (literally), July Silhouette Special Edition, WELCOME HOME, COWBOY.
Just leave a comment either here on on Facebook in the comments section underneath this announcement between now and midnight MDT on Saturday, June 12. I’ll pick five random names from all the comments and announce the winners HERE sometime on Sunday or Monday.
Ready, set…go for it!
Bring it on
I’d always assumed the last thing I’d want to do at this point in my life would be to write about falling in love. About happy-ever-afters. That it would hurt too much.
Apparently, I was wrong.
And while I’m still not quite ready to jump headfirst back into tight deadlines and edits and oh-my-God-I’ll-never-figure-this-out-ever-ever-evers, I know that’s due far more to my simply needing to detox from the stress of the last year than any cynicism about romance.
No matter what, I still believe — wholeheartedly and without reservation — in true love, and wedded bliss, and ’til-death-do-us-part. IdoIdoIdoIdo. In fact, I was watching the Tim Burton’s ALICE IN WONDERLAND the other evening (bored out of my skull with it though I was), and there’s a scene at the beginning when Alice’s mother reaches across the carriage and tenderly cups Alice’s cheek, and it was the fab Lindsay Duncan who can make silk purses out of sows’ ears like no other, and I realized…that even though I lost interest in the Publishing Crazies years ago, I can’t quit writing stories about love. Or the stories won’t quit me, whatever. Romantic love, parental love, friendship, the lot.
Because everything I’ve ever written, and believed in, about love being a healing force? Turns out it’s true for the writer, as well.
So Noah and Roxie? Bring it on, guys. I’m ready.
Who am I now?
Don’t fret, this actually isn’t going to get particularly deep. At least, I hope not. Because obviously I’m the same person I was before, even if perhaps I’ve gleaned a tad more insight into what’s real/worth worrying my pretty little head about and what isn’t.
But I did notice an oh-so-slight style shift in the weeks after Jack’s passing. Not that I was in fuddy-duddy mode before (perish the thought!), but as I was looking for sorely-needed new clothes I found myself gravitating toward flippy little skirts and floaty dresses with ruffly hems. Sky-high sandals with whimsical flowers over the toes. In fuchsia. Sequins. (My new summer handbag is bedecked with a glittery pineapple.)
I cut my bangs again.
Make of that what you will. I’m just glad it’s summer because glittery pineapples really don’t cut it in the dead of winter. 
Your joy is my joy
Something that’s struck me — in a very good way — during these past months is how, no matter how crazy/sad/stressful things got, my soul remained mercifully impervious to bitterness or envy whenever I heard someone else’s good news. This wasn’t anything I forced, or a mindgame I played with myself, it simply was. And God bless the Internet for being the medium by which I’ve been able to share in the joy of babies’ births and engagement announcements and daddies returning home from deployment…of people falling unexpectedly in head-over-heels love. If I could have been there in person, I would have given everyone such hugs. (And/or done the Happy Squee Dance. Which maybe is better left to the imagination.)
Because you know what? Joy and love and happiness are the most contagious things going, infecting us with the assurance that good always triumphs. Always. Whether it’s “my” good or “your” good is immaterial, if you subscribe to the idea that this is all about one big ol’ collective consciousness.
Okay, so I’m getting all metaphysical/touchy-feely on ya. It happens. 
A bit of backstory: Way back in the days when John Travolta was still skinny (as was I) and Jack and I were doing the ping-pong thing with our relationship, I’d finally reached the point where I realized I either needed to ditch worrying about the are we/aren’t wes? or go crazy. Oddly enough, I picked Door Number One. But what enabled me to do that with (relative) grace, was realizing that if this was right, then nothing could stop it. If it wasn’t, then there was something better for me.
Then I blew out a breath, dusted off my hands and got on with my life…and within a short time we were engaged. Whoa.
In any case, part of that epiphany was that the “this” wasn’t necessarily Jack, the person, but the qualities he embodied, qualities that could only bless, not hurt, me. Now that he’s gone, I’m still good with that — that those qualities cannot, could not, have not been taken from me. And all along I’ve seen soooo much evidence of that continuity, in others’ generosity, kindness, humor, strength, wisdom. Love. Joy. Happiness.
Yeah. Take that, Death.
Because those qualities, they’re all around me. In me. In and around all of us. The world is positively flooded with them. So each time someone shares their joy, I’m reminded that good may shift and change, and sometimes even seem to disappear for a while, but it never stops.
What blesses one, truly blesses all. 
Twitter Updates for today
- Don’t even wanna know how hot it already is. Off to Lowe’s before temp reaches incinerator levels. #
- Did my 10-15 min Vit D thang in the sun, thx to walk to Lowe’s. Will now hiberate inside for rest of day. Or at least until sunset. #
- Nothing stopping me from doing kitchen painting touch-ups. Except my own sloth. Can’t even blame heat, since it’s a nice 75 inside. #
- Did some cabinet touch-ups. Almost painted couple of ants. Apparently entire city infested. They scoff at spray, but Diazinon no-no w/pets. #
- Current temp: 100 degrees F. Humidity: 6%. May as well marinate in moisturizer tonight. #
- Still 97 at 7:16. Would like to go for walk, but might have to wait until…midnight? #
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