Living Proof

One of the best perks about blogging in my opinion is coming across interesting people and making new friends. Of course writing is a huge part of it, but along with the writing comes the reading. I love reading other people’s blogs. In fact, I’d rather read someone else's blog, rather than a famous author’s book. It’s more “raw” and it shows you a little peek of someone else’s life whom you’ve never met before. You start to get to know them, as you would a character in a book. I love that. In the five years that I’ve been blogging, I have met wonderful people through their writings, and I have also met quite a few in person as well. I don’t believe I have ever met a blogger friend I didn’t like or get a long with. I’d like to think that I’m a pretty good judge of character. I don’t think I have ever come across a blogger I have met in real life that I didn’t like. If I like the writing or your creative flow on your blog --I’m sure I’m going to like the person behind it too. ...

Anytime I wake up and see the streets and buildings packed up with snow, my mind automatically fills with excitement. It’s certainly not because I want to run out there to clean off my car and then move it so the plows can do their thing, --it’s because it triggers some wonderful memories of when I was growing up. Snow meant the possibility of having a day off from school. My sisters and I would go outside and make snowmen, or we’d just watch my dad push a shitload of snow onto a mound with his backhoe and make a 20 ft tall snowman himself. He even packed it with the plow to make it somewhat 'round'. We’d climb up the giant snowman with carrots and little stones to finish up the face. That snowman must have stayed well into the middle of July - he was so big! We would come running inside, tracking snow everywhere until mom stopped us at the end of the hallway to take off our boots and jackets. I always had to wear this hideous snowsuit that made it impossible to move my arms,...

The other night, I decided to head over to the bookstore and park myself in their cafe, grab some coffee and maybe pop a chapter or two out for my second book that I’m working on. I wasn’t getting much inspiration at home and needed a different atmosphere. Madelene was with me, off searching for books then periodically coming back to my table to discover disappointing finds. She must have gone back and forth about ten times before parking herself for good, ending up purchasing a magazine as well as a calendar. We work well together when we go to a bookstore/cafe, because she realizes I’m not there to browse around - I’m there to possibly pick up books for research, people watch, drink my cafe mocha, and possibly gain inspiration in a different setting. Sometimes other people in there are way too annoying in order to muster up any type of content. There was one guy speaking so loudly into his Bluetooth over at the counter while waiting for his order, that I nearly threw my coffee at hi...

A true friend will stick by you no matter what. They don’t use the past against you and they don’t use vicious words to attack you. Although they may argue with you from time to time, to insult a friend is to surely lose a friend. I’ve found in my past with a few select people, that there are some who are very envious over what other people have, or what they think they have. Envious friends are never “real friends”. They strive upon what you have ---even if it’s not much. Today a friend got angry with me and felt cornered enough to say, “Well, you’re not a real writer.” So I asked her, “What is a ‘real’ writer?” She explained how a real writer wouldn’t self-publish a book. I guess she meant an “accomplished” writer to where they are well off. Of course I am not accomplished. ..yet. I can hope to be accomplished one day and my writing may not be perfect, but I’d like to think that I’m a “real writer”. She accused me of ‘making myself out to be successful’. Well, what do...

In some cases, I feel like I tend to psychoanalyze people more than a shrink. Sometimes, I have to stop myself and bite my tongue over what someone had just said. I used to say pretty much anything that was on my mind, even if it was very offensive. These days, I’m finding I just sit back and watch the madness flow like a bad comedy show. I’ve come to the conclusion that whenever someone says something in bad taste: it’s not my problem, it’s theirs. Whether they have ulterior motives or not, I let it ride out like a runaway train. Have you ever had a friend or relative say something so “neutral” sounding, but was a hidden insult instead? Or, have you thought to yourself, “Hrmm, maybe I took that the wrong way”, and got confused over whether or not it was an insult or just a remark said in bad taste? In cases where people say things in means of “constructive criticism”---that I don’t mind, in fact I love it. I remember in one case (which is funny), if my mother didn’t like what I...

Some people get tired when their significant other says, “I love you” one too many times. For me, it sounds like the first time you have ever said it. Then you ask, “Do you feel it?” I do...I do. Not only do you say it --you show it. Love may be a feeling, but it is also an action. “To love someone” is to “show someone”. Words are meaningless sometimes. You never have to prove to me that you love me. It’s evident.  It’s the way you always kiss me when you come home at night. It’s the way you always kiss me before we go to sleep. It’s the way we both get excited for our days off together. It’s the way you take care of me when I’m sick. It’s the way you make me laugh when I’m in a grumpy mood or do something silly just to get a smile out of me. It’s the way you’re so fascinated by my work and look at it as if it’s your first time seeing it. It’s the way you listen to me when I need someone to talk to. It’s the way you truly understand why I’m sad or why I’m feeling frustrat...

Isn’t it funny how some people view us? Have you ever thought what someone thought of you, whether it be a friend, acquaintance or merely just someone who knew who you were? It’s amazing to see the truth seep out by the words they say to others. I think everything-- every wall, every room, every source of information on the internet all have “ears”. And what I mean by that is: whatever you say to someone about somebody else, will eventually trickle into the ear of the person you have spoken about. It never fails. During the past couple of years, I have heard so many stories about “who I was” or “how poor or rich” they assumed me to be, as well as other well fabricated stories that went through mouths-to-ears and back around again a million and one times. Some of the stories are downright hysterical. Hey, let em’ think what they want. At first, I was bothered by what others thought about me, but now, I am highly entertained because each story is so different from another. Where do ...