Thread: Chanti's Little Piece of BRM (Comments are loved)

Ugh, it has been stupidly busy at work these last few nights. I am hardly able to get any writing or reading done. Eveningnight shifts are usually pretty quiet, but when it is busy it is BUSY because there are far less people to take the calls coming in. Thank God I have tomorrow off. I plan on getting all my responses caught up I am behind on an email one!, working on a few more ideas for stories, playing some hearthstone, and generally doing everything I can to stay in bed or close to it. My schedule is wacked this month, with NONE of my days off being together, which I am not a fan of. I don't mind it when it happens once in awhile, but its happening all the time now. I got to talking via PM with one of my RP partners last night eyes Saul and some things were said that reminded me of some of my escapades as a young adult and a child. I reminisced a bit tonight about some of them too, and decided to tell a few in this little journal of mine. WHY I DO NOT LIKE ALCOHOL! I blame my brother. I cannot stand the taste of achohol, even though in my late teens I TRIED to get drunk. But the only thing I can tolerate is a screwdriver, easy on the vodka. It just tastes like bitter orange juice. People keep telling me try this, you can't taste the alcohol!. They lie. I can taste it. Back when we were kids, my mother who is as crazy as a hit dog as we say down here in the south refused to have a tv. These days I thank her for it - it helped inspire my love for reading and writing and my over-active imagination. But back then me and my brother considered it right next to child abuse. When we went to my grandma's she had a tv, but we were only allowed to watch old westerns or shows my mom watched as a kid. SO! We were watching some ancient western show, dunno what one, while my mom and grandma visited. Then we went home, and my mom made her first mistake - she went to take a nap, leaving me and my brother to play. I was about five or six. He was about eight or nine. We decided to play cowboys and indians, of course. So we were in the bar living room planning our attack on the indians swarming the back yard. But it was a bar, and we had no whiskey! So we went hunting. We found my mother's plum cooking wine. The closest thing we had to shot glasses we didn't even know what they were called was her teacups. I remember standing at the table, barely able to reach it. A teacup of plum cooking wine in front of me. My brother alongside of me... Now don't sip it. Just toss it down like they did in the move. You first. I was a gullible child. Next thing I remember was being on my hands and knees crying and puking, and my brother hanging over me whispering, STOP! You're gonna wake up mama! And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate the taste of alcohol. Speaking of reading...I WAS speaking of it earlier! I mentioned it once!....I love to read. I think most writers do. I read a LOT...everything from fiction and novels to nonfiction to biographies to history books to textbooks to cookbooks and everything in between. I recently read a book about the Vikings, and as many books do for me, it led me to other books. So when I finished it I picked up The Sagas of Erik the Red, Frithiof, and Gunnlaug. It is some fairly heavy reading though, so I break it up by reading novels. I read Hidden Moon Bay by Vickie McKeehan, it was alright. Nothing spectacular. A sweet sappy romance. Then I read The Black by Paul Cooley. I had low expectations, especially after the first couple pages. But I am glad I persevered, because it got pretty damned good. It would make a b rated horror movie, but I actually enjoyed it. Then I picked up an erotic romance that has been sitting on my too read shelf for WAY too long, Surrender by Melody Anne. Again, I had low expectations and was pleasantly surprised. It is all a bit cliche in a 50 shades kind of way, but I still enjoyed it. Cliche is cliche for a reason, it works. I don't always demand realism and believable characters and plot in what I read. I demand truth and facts in my nonfiction, not my fiction. When it comes to fiction I confess my standards are fairly low. But then again I don't focus on newer fictions. I read everything from new stuff to The Wide Wide World by Warner, and The Girl of the Limberlost...I forgot the author but that was a damned good book. On my desk right now I have Gray's Anatomy, A Patriot's History, A Modern Herbal, Dictionary of Law, and Home Comforts The Art and Science of Keeping House. I have sifted through pages of them all. In my too read pile I have Civil Disobedience and other Essays, George Muller, The Contrary Farmer, Shadows of the Almighty, The Collected Essays of Augustine Birrell NO idea who he is, Foreign Devils on the Silk Road, and the Collected Works of Joseph Conrad. That's not even mentioning the too-read list on my kindle and nook which are WAY longer. Some people might think I am religious of they looked at my bookshelf. I am not. I have family who is, but I personally am not. I know of some people who are religious and only read religious books. I know other people who are not religious and only read anti-christian stuff. I read both. I enjoy christian fiction and nonfiction. I have read the Quran, the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanashids. I have read books on Tao, Buddhism, paganism, and atheism. Doesn't mean I follow any of those beliefs, I am, if anything, agnostic. But I am a firm believer in learning about both sides of issues, whether it is a political issue or a religious one or whatever it is. I am wary of anyone who declares truth to be truth, whether it is a religious figure, CBS, the american government, or ISIS. My, haven't I been in a rambly mood tonight? Heading to bed, night everyone!