The · chosen · ones

"Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes: find the cause of your problem and eliminate it. Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human."- Anthony Robbins

I'm working on it. For those who don't know, it's for writers who will be seeking publication- to help with polishing, finding markets, discussions based on the industry, etc.

I have it, but the actual LJ name had to be changed because of LJ trying to charge me $15 to buy a "token" so that I could use a name that has been purged and sat unused for years. Whatev LJ. Ain't happenin'

Instead it's flame_fanning  but only as the actual LJ name. I kept the proper order for the title and such.

I'm doing a little on it each day so the profile page isn't done, but it's up.
I don't know HTML well, so I'm a bit limited in making it look pretty but I figure that can be handled later.

It's being kept private and moderated, so I will approve people who want to join...as will other mods when they sign on. This is mostly to avoid all concerns about anything posted to it being considered "published" online.
There is also a disclaimer on the bio that stuff appearing on it is in progress and as such is not published.

I have also dropped one day of Chatter discussion to add in a Platform discussion day, which I think is incredibly important.

M and F will be Chatter days.
T will stay Deadline post
W will now be Platform discussion days.
Th will stay Review days


While it's not actually going to be live until January, I will be posting an intro post there tomorrow.
Anyone who wants to join now is more than welcome, as are suggestions.

:)

And Merry Christmas, pleasant Santa day, whatever you choose...I hope it's a good one.

For me, my first truly wonderful gift came last night at the home of Mark's Dad.  He and his (new) wife had all of us "kids" over. Her two boys, his two boys and Noah and I.  All the "kids" get along incredibly well so we were laughing from the onset clear to 3 hours later.  Mark's dad has been very marginally clued into what's going on with my family.  He pulled me aside twice to let me know how much he loves me. That meant more to me than words can possibly say.

Then he kept up a book giving tradition.  A few years ago I asked for "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" for Christmas. He picked it off my amazon wish list, and after I opened it he confessed to having read it because he thought the jacket was so interesting. I thought it was hysterical.
Last night he gave me another book I asked for (also by Mitch Albom).  I jokingly asked if he'd read this one too. Funny story.  He picked up a copy for me, read the jacket, started to read the book. Became so engrossed in it that he even brought it to work with him. As he left for the holidays he realized the book was locked in his office, in the locked down building he couldn't get back into. lol
He ended up having to go get me another copy all together.  I was giggling so hard.
I told him that I am starting to love the stories that come with the books almost as much as the books themselves.

It was a lovely time and I think I found a hint of the Christmas Spirit there. Finally.

This morning was filled with absolute silliness. I put the (British) crackers in each of the stockings. Watching the guys pull them apart and get out the little toys, jokes and paper crowns was funny.
The excitement on Jimmy's face when he opened the box that contained coffee for him. So funny.
Noah's when he opened his clothes and tv...OMG.
Noah got me a stuffed Wild Thing. That is a book we read together from the time he was born until he was 7 or 8 and read it to me. I love it.

And the best...I bought all 4 boys these foam disk shooter gun things, and 400 disks.  Our home has been turned into a rainbow colored battle zone full of laughter and "I'll get yous!"

The laughter and smiles are my favorite part.  The food will come next, when it's done cooking but it doesn't matter. It's been about the laughter and smiles for me.

I finally found it.

Merry Christmas, may your day be filled with laughter and smiles.

...trusting doctors and one of the reasons I stopped being a teacher.

I was researching a specific form of A.D.D.
What I've found is that "ADD" no longer exists and that it's all ADHD but that it does exist without the H...what?

Quote from a medical site about ADD:
"The symptoms of attention deficit disorder without hyperactivity in children are slightly different from those of the hyperactive form. Children with inattentive attention deficit disorder may actually seem lethargic and generally unengaged at times. Other symptoms include a dislike or avoidance of tasks that require sustained attention as with school work, appearing to not be listening even when being spoken to directly, difficulty organizing their tasks or play, being easily distracted and forgetful, and easily losing personal possessions."

Then the list of symptoms describe, well, NORMAL CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!!
And the treatment?
Behaviour modification and medication

I saw it for years as a teacher, make up an excuse and drug perfectly normal children into obedience instead of actually teaching them how to get organized, teaching them focus control, just...teaching them...

I am not saying that focus disorders don't exist. Oh boy could I tell you stories about how they do, supposedly I have one (which I absolutely agree I have symptoms of but I also refuse to use it as an excuse for anything. I control how I behave, if I become unfocused, I have the ability to refocus if I choose to use it. Noah has it too, and we're teaching him, not drugging him). I've worked with/known personally honest to gods ADD/ADHD/ODD kids and adults. I can also say most people who claim they have it and need medication/help, don't.  When a person who truly has one of these is in the room, it's pretty evident, even when they are on medication.

I think this is one more example of how we are an over medicated, over diagnosed, controlling, conform-it-to-how-we-want-instead-of-accept it-for-what-it-really-is society.

And it's frustrating as hell to me.
I won't go further because seriously, I could keep going about this.

Let kids be kids.
Learn to deal with them as individuals and as kids.
Grrrrrrrrr....

  This is me...on the way to a Halloween party this year. This is the Thanksgiving dinner I made. I promised a photo, so here it is. It was mad yummy. This is the view on my left. It's the perfect holiday picture I think. Presents beneath the tree. Candle burning brightly. Leg Lamp lit just so.  It makes me smile, which is a nice thing these days. Yes. We own a Leg Lamp. ;-)

I'm no great fan of Britney Murphy *but* I feel for her family. Cardiac Arrest at age 32 and dead.

It affects me when anyone young dies, but especially when someone has served in a position that young girls look up to (and I've known ones who think she is the best thing). Cardiac arrest makes my eyebrows raise and my brain roll straight to her drastic measures to stay thin, which young girls emulate.

I find it interesting that the lives they choose to live are catching up more and more with "celebrities", and thanks to technology it isn't being buried. It needs to happen.

I've had issues with LJ formatting, anyone else?
For some reason, it's been eating paragraphs.

Annnnnnd...I'm having serious issues thinking of names for stories and things.
Anyone else have this?
Anyone have ideas or solutions?

BF prompt- Scratch
Dec 20th, 2009 – 9:50-10:45am
Wds.- 1,070
Music- Jeff Buckley: Lover You Should Have Come Over and Hallelujah
Rating- G
Notes- If anyone wants the recipes for what’s made in this story, let me know.
Edit: Concrit, comments, thoughts always welcome. As always it’s in process.

( Would you like a lesson in the Art of Cooking? )

BF prompt- Scratch
Dec 20th, 2009 8:30-9:35am
Wds.- 1,450
Music- Barenaked Ladies Christmas (because I’ve been listening to it at work)
Rating- PG Notes- Seriously, any woman would agree…it’s maddening!!!  Inspiration from a post by the wonderful jaydecrow  and subsequent conversations with co-workers.
Edit- Concrit, comments and thoughts always welcome. As always, it’s in process.

( Do you have a Burning Question? )( Could you handle the Burning Questions? )

This was taken right after I had it done. It's still just as vibrant, and I'm a bit thinner ;-) I drew this but the gargoyle and knotwork was done in 2002. It was fixed (original artist screwed it up) and the phoenix and tree added in summer 2008.  I have a bit more to add before it's fully done.

BF prompt: Scratch
Dec 19, 2009
Wds: 330
Music: ummm….duh.
Notes: absolute, pure silliness
Edit:  No edit needed, thanks but thoughts and comments always welcome! ;-)

Holiday Home

T’was the holiday season and all through the home
The family was off, doing things of their own.

Ma was in the kitchen with her recipe books.
Turning them this way and that with an odd look.

“If I mix the flour here, add an egg and then
It should be just right for my gingerbread men!”

She whisked, rolled and pressed while she danced around
Holiday songs blaring. She heard no other sound.

The cat, he was pawing and yowling at the door
Taking a break from playing with dust bunnies on the floor.

Dad was in the living room where on the couch he did camp
Yelling at the Patriots, who lost their chance to be champs.

He guzzled his beer while at his crotch he dug
“Gotta peel the boys from the leg,” he said with a shrug.

Older brother’s in the family room killing zombies on X-live
Occasionally swearing loudly, letting us know he survived.

Sister’s in the bathroom, examining her face
Running nails over zits as she wished them away.

Little brother’s an air DJ, with his I-pod plugged in
Wiggling around and getting imaginary records to spin.

The first cookie-man on a plate is for the little one with Ma
His eyes open wide as he looked at the confection with awe.

He smiled, clapped and laughed as he let out a happy cry
While he picked and gouged at the cookie-man’s eye.

“Don’t you want that candy?” Ma asked with a snigger
He nodded while he licked the frosting off his finger

Little by little he worked and off came the tasty man’s face
Frosting and sugar smeared, cheek to cheek, all over the place.

“Can’t keep it there Mama.” He said in a voice so sweet
“Don’t want him to look at me, when I go to eat.”

He bit the faceless cookie then, as he squealed with delight
“This is my favorite, mama. For an old gal, you’re alright.”

My sister calls. Keep in mind, I don't know her number because she changes it often. If I don't know the number, I don't answer the phone.
Then I get a text asking me to call.
I took the high road, again, and simply said that I am too hurt, too upset and too emotional to talk to anyone in the fam. other than Noah and Mark. Have a happy holiday.

The response:

"sorry you feel this way. You are blaming me and deb for reasons unknown and i just wanted u. to know u are my sister and i do love u and i wish u happy holidays as well."

I decided the list would be too long and I just...I can't do this anymore.

Then I get home to find a note in my dad's particular brand of scrawl. I got him a Dick's card for his birthday. I was thrilled that it didn't come back. I had hoped (yup, that bad word) it meant he had used it and appreciated it.

Inside the envelope is a Wal-Mart gift card with a note

"Lynne
Here is 15.00 back. Hope I won't have to hear about this on the internet anymore.
Dad"


You know what? Screw this. Hear about it!  This is the sad truth of the matter...and that's the point. This is the TRUTH, what they are doing to me. What is this?  A hush card?

No.

I have every right to type whatever the hell I want on here, and since there is nothing in this saga that has been a lie, and I have the notes to prove it, I'm supported by the US Constitution on this.

This reminds me of a court case that came up where the (found guilty) defendants mother tried to convince everyone he was just a misunderstood good boy that everyone saw as bad. If he didn't behave that way, no one would see him in such a light.

I've had it.
This is not friend locked, so note to the little mole who tattles to my parents (since this will be linked to my facebook)

There's nothing but the truth on my side here.
Read it and weep, because that's all I've been doing since you started the lies.

Oh, yeah. Merry Freakin' Christmas. Hope yours is as bright as you've made mine.

Okay, let’s just get something out of the way, shall we? As most of you know, I am not a fan of the holidays. Aside from the forced contact with my family- and dude, what is up with that? Under the Articles of Engagement established by the Geneva Convention, cruel and unusual treatment is prohibited in dealings with prisoners of war, and seeing as my family has been upholding a life-long battle of out passive-aggressiving each other (Shut up, it is TOO a word if I say so) I definitely consider myself a prisoner of said war. But apparently, since we don’t even compare to the weekend population of Lichtenstein – it’s freaking Lichtenstein. You’d go somewhere else on the weekend too- we don’t get official standing with the Geneva Convention, let alone the UN.

So my lack of love for the horrordays doesn’t actually stem from some deep seated emotional trauma, despite popular theory. Mostly, it’s confusion. I find myself spending most of the holidays imitating the RCA dog – head cocked to the side with baffled incomprehension coloring my expression.

Let’s start with the decorations. I just don’t get it. I understand where they come from. It’s the arse end of the year. It’s cold and dark and the weather, especially around these parts, sucks donkey balls. Your skin itches and your nose runs and the damn furnace is always making funny noises. We need to hang up green things to remind us spring will come and bright lights to drive back the darkness and maybe, to borrow a phrase from Mr. Pratchett, to remind the sun to do a proper day’s work.

But a nine foot tall inflated Santa Claus, that seems to always be running at half-mast? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? So a couple strands of lights in a tree, or maybe some battery operated candles in the window – not my type of battery operated device but to each their own, I always say- sure. I can even stomach those white-lighted reindeer and the weird spiral things that are supposed to be Christmas trees but in all honesty, if your lawn is so filled with multicolored objets de bad taste, to the point the local airport is considering contacting the FAA because you’re causing pilots to divert from their flight plans, something is wrong with you. Like, the mall Santa touched you in the no-no wrong. Daddy dressed up as St. Nick and climbed down the chimney to deliver presents and got stuck and DIED wrong.

And people, please- lighted candy canes? In a row or even circling a tree? At best, it looks like they’re holding the tree hostage and worst, like a cemetery for tasteful decorations.

And don’t get me started on the music. Okay, too late. I know that the majority of Christmas music was thought up by some hack on Madison Avenue to sell candy and for the most part, I can stomach it by basic avoidance and application of alcohol. There is a very good reason why they started putting restaurants with bars in the malls.

It’s not really the music, per se, but the people they get to sing it. I mean, Kenny Rogers singing “Mary, Did You Know?” It’s bad enough that I can never decide if that song is intentionally maudlin and pathetic or truly a sweet and touching homage to the relationship between the King of Peace and his mortal mother - and really, guys, Mary knew. She didn’t exactly get handed a message reading “ Angel stopped by, messiah due in nine months” she spoke with Gabriel. Face to face. He said, hey you mind bearing a child by a supernatural, absentee father who will one day ritually sacrifice him in order to purportedly save the entire population of the world, without even the side benefit of sex first and she said- it’s documented- sure, whatevs. In what strange and terrifying hell-verse was that concept birthed? It’s just ... creepy. I mean, have you seen Kenny Rogers recently? A man who looks like he’s walking around with a pineapple liberally spiked with lemon juice lodged in his rectum has no business singing about the Virgin Mary.

And what sticks in my craw is the way everyone gets this image of the perfect life shoved in their face nonstop. You’re finally an adult. You’ve survived your parents and high school and possibly college and you’ve got a wife (or girlfriend or boyfriend whatever) you’ve got a house or at least a roof over your head and a job and you’ve done it. You’ve accomplished the big three. And some marketing plan is determined to show you, in explicit detail, how very much this is not good enough. You are not living a life comprised of big screen Tvs and high def what-nots and vacations to Vail or Aspen and what if you don’t have children or are single on New Year’s? You are totally missing the big picture. There will be no pitter-patter of little feet rushing toward the tree Christmas morning in wide-eyed wonder to proclaim you the best mom or dad in the world and even if you do have children, what if you’re not really comfortable with lying to your kids about Santa Claus, that good old Peeping Tom? You have obviously scarred them for life. Like some dickwad somewhere has the right to invalidate all your life choices because he’s not really comfortable with his own.

And Santa Claus- the ulitmate cult icon of consumerism- is definitely part of it. The very concept of Santa Claus is psychotic. He’s a jolly old elf- WHO SPIES ON CHILDREN. Who watches, apparently, their every movement and then judges them on some arbitrary personal scale of worth and value, setting them up for failure from the very start. You better not pout, you better not cry? Dude, they’re children. I’m over thirty and I want to pout when the President bumps my favorite show for an address on the state of the union, and I not only care about the state of the union, I love listening to our current President speak. It seems glaringly obvious to me that the whole thing was established by someone who obviously didn’t get his Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas one year and is determined someone, if not everyone, share his pain.

Yeah, I hate that movie, and I’m not exactly a fan of A Charlie Brown Christmas either.

I freely admit to being a misanthrope and internally focused. But I strongly dislike watching, every year, the Season of Lights be continuously strip-mined for financial profit. As misanthropic as I might be, I do believe in taking time to make sure the people I let into my life know exactly how beloved to me they are, and how valued and truly cherished. And I refuse to take just one day out of the year to do it. Too much value is taken in December 25th.

I hate to sound so naive, but the spirit of Christmas should be a year-long event.

So I challenge you. I challenge each and every one of you who read this to do a random act of compassion on the people you carry affection for. Next time you are out and see something you know will delight someone you know, get it for them, for no reason other than than it will delight them. Send a letter to an old friend, out of the blue. Donate to a charity they believe in, in their name. Remember that love is a year-round event and sacred, not because Jesus was born in December- well, he wasn’t. If he really existed, he was born right around the same time he died- but because without it we cannot fully understand the human experience. Donate your time or gently used clothing or money to something you find worthwhile and do it not for this ridiculous concept of Christmas, but because human beings, even the isolated, misanthropic ones, need other human beings.

Even if only for someone else to look down on.

And while you’re at it, if you truly wish to gift me this Yuletide, take a moment to be kind to yourself as well. That’s all I can ask for.

Through the year we will all will be together.
If the fates allow.
Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

I collect quotes, as many of you know.

I came across this in a new story about an athlete, but it's so true across the board.

"Too many times, a gifted person comes along, and we automatically make them a role model. Inevitably, they end up doing something to let us down. The truth is, though, that those were never the role models we needed. The role models we need are the people who let us down first, and then show the strength and character to fight back from that."

I slept last night.

I mean, I slept. I went to bed around 10, woke once at midnight to pee and then did not move until six in the motherfucking AM. The side I was sleeping on was asleep, that's how asleep I was.

So naturally, the universe decided to make everything just a wee bit more surreal for me.

I woke, quite abruptly as if I had exactly reached the point of Too Much Sleep, clearly thinking, "But Darla's body should have rejected the fetus the moment Dru turned her, because vampires aren't living organisms and therefore, cannot be proper hosts for parasites."

Then I fell back against the pillows thinking in abject relief, "Oh, right. Prophecy."

The episode of Angel TNT was running at 7 this morning?

The one where Darla turns from the bar in Mexico to reveal her heavily pregnant belly.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot, brain.

Worse? Now all I can do is wonder if Angel wore heated BVDs or something, cause that is some super strong sperm.

Murphy sucks. It's not anything major but a series of small things have just twitched my tits. So...I looked this up to share with a friend and thought I'd spread the happy. Come peasants, DANCE!

random thought:

Loading my pez into my pez dispenser is a lot like loading bullets into a revolver, but with a much tastier outcome on my end. Made me laugh.

Next, a few of your comrades in pens have mentioned loving prompts and not having enough.

Here's ones I was given by people*, or that I have thought of, that I've not written on yet. I will.
Do with them as you like ;-)

Even Gods Bleed

Fire Walk*

Off The Cuff

As it was yesterday, painted on the wall*

So taking into consideration what revsphynx and leenerella suggested about my account being hacked, I investigated a bit more last night, especially knowing that lacombe was hacked last week.

I know my family aren't tech savvy enough to hack anything. They asked us for computer help, troubleshooting and cleaning up...even on things relatively easy (shutting down multiple task bars, for example). So while a good theory, there isn't much support for it.

Someone else? But then why those posts?

Those posts were all ones that were linked through the Facebook/LJ connect, which has been experiencing issues. They are nowhere to be found on Facebook either.

I believe mystery might just be solved, and in a less piss-offy way.