Save Your Sanity Now

Tonight I was reading a forum for readers and came across a thread about where people like to read. It brought to mind one of my favorite tips for remaining sane. I do this probably once a year, and it has kept me from killing several people.

Find a clean, comfortable, but inexpensive hotel. AAA can help. If you have a vacation home this will also work, but do not tell your family where you are going.

Buy a huge bag of novels. Four or five. Splurge.

Buy lots of junk food. If you can't get a hotel room with a coffee maker get a cheap one-cupper at the discount store and borrow a mini-frig.

Pack only clothing you would rather not be seen wearing. (This is important... it will keep you from doing something constructive and potentially spoiling the trip.)

Check in. Pig out. Read til your eyes hurt.

Return home refreshed, renewed, and temporarily sane.

THIS WORKS. It's not even that expensive. It costs far less than a funeral.

I'm Not A Heroine Addict...

Nothing like a first impression. Unfortunately, I am scary as hell right now. My hair is in bad need of a perm; it's dull and lank. My complexion is so white it borders on translucent. My arms are covered with bruises, and the veins are beginning to blacken and pop.

No, I'm note shooting up, but thanks for the vote of confidence.

New treatments, and frequent blood tests, for Pulmonary Fibrosis are proving... well, we'll use the word "challenging," shall we? Chronic anemia, low blood pressure, weight loss, hair loss, and a disturbing inability to breath are starting to piss me off. I've also noticed that my mind gets fuzzy more often than it once did. Lack of oxygen? Age? Who knows.

The disturbing thing is, I had not thought much about it til I got a very disapproving glare at the pharmacy the other night. I tend to hit the all-night CVS in the wee hours, since I dislike lines and love being a night-owl. Discovering I needed a few things, I stuck a baseball cap on my head, pulled on a hooded sweatshirt, and trotted down for some late shopping.

I've always been one of those people who is friendly and chatty with strangers. Sometimes I can be a bit wry. I like to think of myself as being sharp-witted. Funny thing is, when you look like death warmed over people don't think you're funny. They think you're a crack-head. And there's no rude awakening quite so chilly as noticing the cashier staring in horror at the black and blue tracks on your wrists.

Part of me wants to be more careful about wearing make-up and keeping my hair "just so," but when my arms get sore it's a bit of a bitch to curl my hair and buff on the bare minerals. And being "casually cool" is sort of a deeply ingrained part of my personal identity. I was always the gal who wore jeans and a Red Sox cap. I'm a fan.

One of the big bonuses about being a writer was always the dress code: casual. I like being able to wear a pair of clean jeans, a t-shirt, and my keds. It makes getting dressed up in a nice outfit even more pleasant, since it's more of a treat than a daily torment. I don't intend to stop being the laid back woman I am.

But if you know any heroine addicts with great vein-covering make-up tips... give them my email, will you?

A Stunning Violation

Everyone has a safe place, a special place, close to their heart. For writers this is, perhaps, even more significant. We find a quiet spot to rap away on keyboards, to scribble in journals. So when these sacred spaces are violated it shakes us to the very core of who we are.

Ahmed bought us a special place the year before last. Tucked in the woods of Maine on a small lake, the vacation home was a retreat that was not a long drive, but felt worlds away from the clamoring crowd. It was a place of peace and contemplation, a beautiful home in which we planned to retire.

When the call came from the local police, and later from the insurance company and friends who live nearby, we were stunned. A group of young people under the influence of psychotropic drugs broke into the house and had a RAVE. The downstairs was destroyed. The antique stove was torn out of the wall. A huge hole was burned in the hardwood floors and the couch-- antique Adirondack furniture that came with the house-- was burned to cinders.

So deep was the violation that neither myself nor Ahmed can face seeing it. We've simply decided to wait til the insurance adjusters and authorities have finished with the investigation.

Ahmed, in a reaction that I now realize is quite typical, was more upset to think that perhaps I, or a female friend, might have been alone in the house on a writer's retreat. What if a lone female had wandered down the stairs to be greeted by a crowd of drugged people bent on destruction? Though this was not my first thought upon hearing about the incident, it will be my last, lingering fear.

Is anyplace safe anymore? Probably not... and our beloved retreat is probably still safer than Cambridge, or even Green Harbor. But I wonder if, thinking about the violation done to that beautiful place, I will ever feel completely safe again.

Clan Destiny On the Web

At long last, Clan Destiny has its own blog. The group is very important to me, and has been my life raft as a writer for many years. We are a dozen women who live in New England and New York, writers all, who stay in touch via cell phones, email, and -- now-- a blog. We get together in person several times a year.

Clan Destiny meet-ups can be bull-sessions, critique parties, plot book clean-ups, or anything else. There is generally coffee and cheesecake involved.

So Clanswomen-- check your emails! You will be receiving an invite to become a logging members to the blog soon.

Blogger Tips and Tricks, Too!

OK, so I promised, and now I deliver! Call me DOMINOES, baby... the Blogger Tips and Trickspage is up and running at WebSong.

Included...

The Big Font trick (seen above).

The Cool Image Aligned Beside Text Trick (see below).

My Mom ROCKS!

I know I need help, but come on... my dog ADORABLE? WHOSAPUGGYBABYDEN? WHOIS? YOUIS! Silly example, I know, but this looks rockin' in a review with the book cover.

The Cool Magazine Floaty-Text Trick:

yeah... oh yeah... that looks wicked! like New Yorker magazine!

Ever wish your blog looked way cooler than everyone else's blog? Well... what are you waiting for? Get over to WebSong!

And those are just a few examples. Go, jump a link, hop a page, surf a wave...

Maria's Got a Brand New Blog

My sweet MariaChica has got a brand new blog, and she's very excited. I'm pretty excited, too... not just because she hired me to design her template and set it up. I'm excited because she is a member of Clan Destiny, one of my closest friends, a reviewer and writer for Romance News, and a tremendously talented lady.

So why not get herself out there in the blogosphere? Now if I could only con her into becoming a Romance Diva...

Technorati Profile (finally)

How is it possible that I have been blogging all this time without Technorati? I haven't, but I was tweaking forever, and never added the profile. It's available now: Technorati Profile.

Helpful Tips and Tricks for Blogs and Websites

I've been promising everyone who sends me frantic emails asking "how the hell did you do that?" to create a tips/help page on WebSong Designs with some easy, copy-and-paste code. It's up, finally. I apologize for the delay, but things have been a bit crazy with T-Cell transplant negotiations and whatnot. <G>

If you would like to visit and pick up a few clever bits, here's the link:

TIPS and TRICKS

I plan, very soon, to have a similar page specifically for blogspot users. It will include code for the LOGIN, the big font (also below), and simplified instructions for building a basic template from scratch.

Stay tuned...

Cali Calisto and her magical blog

Recently several members of Romance Divas, Romance News, and Romantic Times have been getting spammed by a person calling herself Cali Calisto. She begins with an initial email claiming to have been asked by Kengsington Publishing to create a blog in order to get feedback on a book. Since this not only sounded unlikely but actually quite stupid, I ignored the first email. The second round was an e-greeting card. Polite requests that she desist have resulted in a flurry of sophomoric blog spam.

If you are a member at Romance News, please be advised that NOBODY on our site gave your email to this creature. We don't participate in any lists, but members who choose to make their emails visible or public run a risk in doing so. The flip side, of course, is making yourself more accessible to friends on the actual list.

My advice is to put the person on IGNORE, report the spam, and feel sorry for the folks in this world needy enough to act in such a manner.

The coolest idea anyone has had in ages...

This month's issue of South Shore Living Magazine features a brief article on page 10 about a terrific idea for local teens. The Southeastern Massachusetts Regional Library System (SELMS) has created My Own Cafe, a website that offers a better, safer, more useful alternative to MySpace for local teens. My Own Cafe is such a fantastic idea it's amazing anyone had it.

Teens can log in using the barcode from their library card, get access to homework help, college information, message boards, and chat. There are quizzes, polls, and perhaps the most impressive stroke of genius-- free downloads of MP3 files from local teen musicians and bands. Beat that with a stick!

The website is monitored by SELMS youth services. It has been active since the fall of 2005 and is growing in popularity as news spreads. Because the site is watched, and because access is granted by way of library cards, kids are safe from internet predators using fake identities. Information is relevant to locals, since it is run by the local library system.

If you are in Southeastern Massachusetts, get your kids hooked in. If not, perhaps a note to your local librarian with a link to this great site would spark something in your own community.

T-Cell Transplant -- New Breakthrough?

They call it a "mini transplant." Purified T-Cells from a donor are transfused into a sick person. What happens, hopefully, is a rebooting of a damaged immune system with a "supercharge" from the purified, healthier T-Cells. Basically you are "training" your immune system to work properly by introducing T-Cells that know what to do.

This is a relatively new procedure for patients with Pulmonary Fibrosis and isn't done quite the same way it has been for those with Cancer. Family members or other highly compatible donors must also do some pre-treatment. But new statistics are showing some good numbers as a result.

I am currently on a list for funding the procedure. Cross your fingers and say a prayer!

Big Font Secret

I've had a bunch of email from people who want to know how I do the "big font" in the first letter of my posts. It's a simple CSS style tag that I am happy to share here. Copy and paste the HTML below, and edit it accordingly:

<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="float:left;font-size:100px;line-height:80px;padding-top:1px;padding-right:5px;font-family: geneva;">A</span>note the A to your left before the span tag. Change that to the first letter you want blown up, and add everything else here.
</p>

Romance News Contest

WIN THIS GORGEOUS, 14K WHITE GOLD DIAMOND ETERNITY NECKLACE! Romance News is launching its new forum with a wonderful contest. Join, post 10 times before the end of April, and win a beautiful diamond necklace OR one of three $25.00 Barnes and Noble gift cards! There is no cost to join, no catches, and we will never give out your email address. No other obligations required-- just join, post, have a good time, and at the end of the month all posters with at least 10 posts will be added to the drawing.

Free Dialup Info for Tank Members

Any and all members of The Sceptics' Tank who live in New England are welcome to participate in the free dialup program in our area. Information is available at the home page in the MEMBERS area. Log in and you can pick up all the necessary configuration information.

WIN a Diamond Necklace!

This Friday Romance News Magazine will be launching its new Reader Forum. To celebrate the new community we are going to e giving away a genuine diamond eternity necklace, plus a few great gift certificates.

All you have to do to enter is become a member, log in regularly, and post. Anyone who is an active posting member will be entered at the end of April, and drawn in the big give-away lottery.

The site will publish, as always, on the first Friday of the month, which will be this Friday, April 7th.

Come on LUCKY 7!

The Day My Small Heart Grew 10 Sizes

Recently I came across an interesting discussion on the Dimensions Magazine Forum. A member there began a thread titled "When I Knew it Was Okay to Be Fat."

Not many people who claim to be "okay" with their size are. I have been over 200 pounds (I'm 5'6") for most of my adult life. I have belonged to the Fat-Acceptance movement for as long as I can remember. I have always dated. I have always claimed to accept my size as a natural part of myself.

I was lying. Until June 27, 2001 I was really a fat woman in fear of rejection, one who wanted to be accepted and loved, never truly believing it would happen. Until that date I felt it was RIGHT and FAIR for me to accept the shape God gave me, but I had absolutely no real hope that anyone else would accept me in it. Then I went to the Barnes and Noble cafe in Braintree, MA to meet an endocrinologist with whom I had been chatting and emailing online for over a year.

I have always joked that I was planning to ditch him for good, and on some level I was. It was my secret belief that he, an educated man from an affluent family, would take one look at me and begin finding polite ways to make our first date our last. So confident in his rejection, I was unprepared for what actually came.

As I've said, I dated. I had a boyfriend throughout high school, even wearing a size 16/18 in those hard, formative years. I dated men in college. They did, I knew, find me attractive. Perhaps I was unaware of it then, but a small voice buried beneath the louder, brasher voice with which I spoke to the world, had always been whispering that they didn't really find me attractive so much as attractive enough. I was, I thought, most certainly never anyone's first choice.

All of that was rattling around inside my full-figured, faux-confident self when he walked into Barnes and Noble. We had seen photographs of one another. I knew him to be handsome. He insisted he found me beautiful. The little voice snickered. Wait til he sees how gigantic your body is, it said. You were always careful to send pictures of your head and shoulders.

It happened very quickly. I looked up, saw him, and saw him see me. He knocked over a book display just as I noticed how extraordinary his eyes were. This was not just a handsome man. He was not conventionally handsome in an American way. He was exotic, with eyes the color of sunlight through cognac. He had a hawkish nose and long face, but it was a thoroughly beautiful face. And he was trying to catch dozens of paperbacks while stabilizing the cardboard display he'd just leveled. I wanted nothing in the world as much as those eyes lifted to mine once more; yet I dreaded the moment they would reflect his disappointment.

Then a funny thing happened. He made a defeated gesture with his hands as a manager rushed to help him and looked up once more. But it wasn't disappointment or dread I saw. It was warmth, frank admiration, and an honest connection I don't think I'd ever experienced with a man. It was like the wonderful, instant comfort I had so often found with other women in friendship, but it had so much heat behind it I felt myself blush down to my toenails. Without meaning to do so I uttered my first words aloud to this man I'd known through written words for over a year.

"You're going to be trouble."

Had I said it out loud?

We fell in love.

At the time-- June 27, 2001-- we were not aware that love was the thing happening. I suppose that's the real debate about love at first sight. Does anyone ever look at another human being and fall instantly, irreversibly in love? I think we do, sometimes, but can't process what this whirlwind thing is until much later. I know with a certainty that by the end of that evening-- in which this big, magnificent, sexy creature knocked over a glass of water, backed into another car's bumper, and had me forgetting things I'd known my whole life-- I was on a path from which there was no diversion or return.

That night, when we returned to the book store parking lot after dinner, a movie, coffee, and a lot of talking, something astonishing happened to this fat girl. A man straight out of my dreams looked at me with heat, with wonder, and with a clear escape route. He could say he'd enjoyed himself, shake my hand, kiss my cheek, and walk away. He didn't. That night, in the parking lot, Ahmed asked me if he could kiss me. It was formal, polite, and utterly charming. It seemed somehow appropriate to his character in spite of his forceful and clearly overtly masculine demeanor. I felt almost as if he were warning me, and it sent fireworks through me. I gave him permission. He kissed me. He smiled, began to walk away, and came back.

"I can do that better," he said in the sexiest voice I'd ever heard. "I was nervous."

The second time his arms came around me, when he kissed me that second time, tumblers in the universe clicked, rattled, and fit together with a solid, prophetic clunk.

And as they say down in Whoville... well my heart, which had been cowering a bit for all its brave posturing, grew ten sizes that day. Oh, I know-- the Grinch's heart only grew three sizes. But I'm bigger than him. I had more chest to fill.

I'd been spouting the tenants of fat acceptance, of embracing one's body image, for years. I'd been a professional, paid, respected writer on women's issues and body image. And I'd been full of fear, self-rejection, and crap. I wanted to believe there were men in the world who found the roundness of a woman's body beautiful, but I doubted it.

There is nothing like hard evidence to turn a girl's head.

So there it is. June 27, 2001. That was when I learned it was not only "okay" to be fat, but quite lovely. My mother told me I walked through the door in a daze. "Your feet were not touching the ground," she said.

They still aren't.