Not Like the Others

People think I'm weird. I know they do and no, it's not the underlying paranoia speaking. The sideways glances and tiny quirk of the eyebrows give it away every time.

Honestly, they are probably right. I am different and isn't that what being weird is -- not fitting between the parameters which makes a person normal?

Top 5 reasons for my weirdness:
1 - I'm a writer. No explanation necessary.

2 - I hate chocolate. Even through the computer, the collective gasp of disbelief astounds me. Why do people dig that stuff anyway? Sour Patch Kids are so much tastier.

3 - I drive a stick shift. Apparently, this is not normal for a married, thirty year-old woman.

4 - I turn hermit from time to time. Yeah, it's inconvenient, but it is what it is. (cringe)

5 - I despise cliches and over-used phrases (like the end of number 4).

So, what makes you weird?

Rant #1 – Customer Complaints

Why is it when people complain about something they always say:

“Well, I never complain. Really. I never do, it’s just… (insert annoying comment here).”
Um, then why’d you start now? Yeah. I don’t believe you.

OR

“I have decades of service experience. I’ve even run my own company, so I KNOW what good service is.”
Good for you. Now get on with it.

OR

“In this economy, you’d think (insert annoying company name here) would want to keep LOYAL customers like me.”
Uh huh. This is usually the person who spent the least.

Please, people. Saying these things won’t make your case any stronger. All they do is aggravate the person on the other end of the line who is essentially trying to help you. Stop complaining already and no, you’re not getting a free (insert annoying company product here).

A Matter of Trust

I finished reading a book a few days ago by bestselling author Rebecca Wells (don’t worry, the review is coming) and it dawned on me that I didn't scrutinize the words at all. My normal skepticism faded and I just enjoyed her work. I didn’t debate the use of passive verbs. There was no analysis of the repetitive concepts. Nothing.

Then it hit me – I trusted her.

I trusted Ms. Wells to create the right setting. I trusted her to choose the right words. Most of all, I trusted her to carry me through the entire story, letting me believe her characters were living, breathing people with real wants and needs. (How’s that for repetition?)

So, what makes us trust an author?

Is it status or education? What about sales figures – do they factor into our decision?

I would love to believe that if you’ve proven yourself to be a competent writer, readers will give themselves to the story without question. But, alas, that is not the way it is. I’ve read several books by people considered “great” and I still find myself nit-picking the technique. For example, why would they elect to use a “to be” verb when an active one would have been so much cleaner? Or what’s with all the stinkin’ adverbs?

It’s a conundrum really. Any thoughts out there in cyberspace?

King of Pop

They laid him to rest today. Or was it yesterday?

It doesn't matter. I didn't know the man. I only knew his music.

Michael Jackson, whether you liked him or not, inspired people around the world. For me, his songs play like a soundtrack for the memories flickering in and out of focus.

Sitting on a porch step, watching the orange and pink of sunset bleed across blue. Schoolmates run around me while I take refuge in my thoughts. "Human Nature" rings in my ears, emanating from plastic headphones attached to my Sony Walkman -- the yellow one. Only the cool kids have the yellow one.

Hiding at my friend's house on Halloween, anxious to jump out and startle her little brother. He wants to be Batman. We want to be Catwoman. "Thriller" starts, coming from a TV in the back bedroom. We're distracted by the beat. Super-heroes fade and only dancing zombies exist.

My best-friend-in-the-whole-world, Heidi, and I sing "Gone Too Soon" at our Junior High graduation. My throat closes while saying, "Dying with the rising of the moon." Tears burn and I am now aware of time's determination to only race forward. No going back.

Rest in peace, Michael Jackson.

Happy 4th of July!

On a road trip to Mammoth, but wanted to wish everyone a happy and safe Independence Day weekend!

Where liberty dwells, there is my country.
~Benjamin Franklin