Give Me Liberty...or a Vacation

va·ca·tion   [vey-key-shuhn, vuh-]


noun
1.
a period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel; recess or holiday: Schoolchildren are on vacation now.


2.
something I haven't had for years and years.



Is there anyone that doesn't agree that we all need a little time off?  Certainly not me.  And make that a chunk of time off for me, because at this point in time, a "little" just isn't going to cut it.

You see, I haven't had a vacation---of any kind---since the summer of 2007, and even that wasn't a real vacation.  It was a working vacation.  I attended RWA's National Conference in Dallas.  Fun, yes, because I got to spend time with my friends.  But believe me, a lot has changed in five years.  I'd just sold and finished my first book for Harlequin American, and I've just contract to write books eight and nine.  No, working vacations, even when spent in the company of the best of friends, are not real vacations.

Even when I was married and especially AK (after kids), there weren't a lot of vacations.  For a few years, before the youngest of the four girls was born, we drove to Missouri and spent long weekends at my aunt and uncle's home on Table Rock Lake.  Two to three days of Silver Dollar City was fun, and the girls enjoyed it.  But staying with relatives and trying to keep 1-3 boisterous girls contained proved to be stressful and very UNvacation-like.


Then there were the then-hubby's softball tournaments that I --and sometimes the girls-- attended.  Vacations are not meant to be spent on hard, butt-numbing bleachers or being tied to a tight schedule of games-to-be-played.  In Savannah, Georgia, I put my foot down and insisted the girls and I visited the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts in the U.S..  In Battle Creek, Michigan, we'd hoped to visit Kellogg's and watch cereal being made, but visitors were no longer allowed.  (Makes one wonder just what they put in those cereal boxes...)  And those were the only two national tournaments the whole family attended.  He said they were vacations.  Uh, no.

My last eight "vacations" haven't been.  Vacations, that is.  Something is wrong with this picture.  My oldest daughter works for Royal Caribbean.  Her working vacations are spent on cruises and in places like the Galapagos.  I've rarely managed to get out of the hotels, except to attend dinners with editors (somewhat stressful) and the always fun Harlequin parties.  But there have been times when I've tried to turn some of those working vacations into more fun than work.  In 2000, I took the Washington, DC metro---alone---to the Washington Mall to see the Vietnam Wall.  In 2003, a writer friend and I traipsed through NYC and I mastered the subway enough to get myself and even others to Ground Zero, the Harlequin offices, and yes, all the usual tourist-y spots, then back to my hotel...more than once.

So here I sit, with no chance of a vacation in sight.  Not this year, at least.  Whether it's time or money, it seems there's always something keeping me grounded.  If I could sprout wings...  Sadly, I can't. But I can DREAM, and if that's all I can do right now, then so be it.  I'll take that vacation...that dream vacation...in my mind.

Islands as yet unnamed in the Caribbean, here I come!  Greece, here I come!  Historical places, here I come!

What and where is your dream vacation?  If you could go anywhere and do anything, what would it be?

A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in. - Robert Orben

I Wish I Had More Time To...Read

Let's face it.  I miss reading.

Ever since I was a small child, reading has been one of my favorite things to do.  Like breathing, I can't do without it.  But for the past few years, I haven't had as much time to read as I've had in the past.

Oh, I still read.  And my Kindle is loaded with books, just waiting for me to find some spare time.  I finally took the time to create categories for all my ebooks.  There are 16 of them.  Romance has the most, and Classics comes in at a close second.  That's just my Kindle and doesn't count the multiple bookcases I have or the boxes of book that are stored at my ex's farm. I even have a large box of books I've been carting around in the back of the trunk of my car for well over a year.  My plan was to take them to the Art Museum for the book fair at the annual river festival.  They still haven't made it there.

I'm a sucker for used book sales, no matter where.  I use the library, especially during the summer, when I take the grandkids each week.  I can spend hour upon hour in a bookstore, and would spend a fortune, if I had one.

But reading time is limited, what with my own writing, website design, family and friends.  I've tried to build in some reading time by leaving early to pick up my grandkids at school each weekday.  It gains me about twenty minutes, but that's really only enough to whet my appetite.  Sometimes, if I haven't had to stay up late working, I'll read in bed.  But too often, that leads to that drowsy feeling, and after reading the same paragraph more than three times, I know it's time to put book away.

Not only do I love to read, but I've tried to instill that same love of books in my children and grandchildren.  Not everyone is a reader, but I believe everyone can become one, if the right books are found to read.  And if reading is problem, there are always books on tape, so anyone can enjoy the world of words.

Maybe someday, when life slows down and there's time for the best things in life, I'll have the chance to read more.  Until then, I'll simply have to find a way to carve out another hour or two...or three or four...a day to enjoy my favorite pastime.  One can dream, right?

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.  ~ Charles W. Eliot

Love is All You Need

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. - Charles M. Schulz

I'm cheating a little today.  I used the photo on the left on Bits & Bytes, my writers' group's blog, last week.  Why not?  I like it.  And since today is Valentine's Day and this is my blog, I get to choose. ;)

If honesty is the best policy, then I may be in trouble before the day is over.  You see, I don't put a lot of stock in the holiday being celebrated today.  Why do people need a specified day to say I love you?  Why must there be a holiday to give gifts of love?  Why should expressions of love--whether a whisper, candy, a kiss, dozens of roses, or precious jewels--be given on one day a year?  Shouldn't those be things that happen every day?  Okay, maybe not the dozens of roses, but the rest, for sure.

And another thing.  Why don't we have an I Love Me Day?  After all, one should learn to love oneself before setting out to shower it on others, right?  Or have I just become jaded over the years?

Maybe it's because I have a problem with expecting a gift on a day when not giving one is almost sinful that sours me on the holiday.  Thanks to the flower/candy/negligee/jewelry/greeting card and you-name-it industries that make a bundle on a day drenched in red hearts and mushy sentiments, women have come to expect gifts from the men--and others--in their lives.  (Not trying to be sexist, here.  The same holds true for same-sex couples.)  And men, bless their forgetful hearts, sometimes feel the obligation of going out and finding the gift to buy their way into the good graces of the women who truly love them anyway.

Now, someone out there will probably feel the need to point out that I'm probably this way because I've been soured by divorce and all the angst that accompanies it.  Uh, no.  I was soured before that happened.  Gifts given freely and from the heart are a treasure.  Gifts given because it's expected on Valentine's Day are nothing more than commercialism.

If you've managed to read this far without shouting expletives loud enough that the neighbors have alerted the police, calling me all sorts of names and sticking pins in a doll that mysteriously looks like me, or generally swearing never to read another word I've written, you'll realize that much of what's above is not about love, but about one day a year that's been set aside to make sure it's given the honor it deserves.  One day is not enough, folks.  Love isn't heart-shaped boxes full of calorie-ridden chocolate, flowers that the cat may eat, or a piece of jewelry given because it's expected.  Love is about caring enough about someone else to let them be who they are and loving them for it.  Love is being happy because someone else is happy.

I hope this Valentine's Day leaves you with, not only chocolate, flowers, or other glittering gifts, but a reminder that love really is all you need.

“When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman.” Spike to Buffy (Joss Whedon)

Ch-Ch-Changes

I'm a Gemini, and those of us who are under the sign of the Twins are traditionally not comfortable in a rigid, static, seldom changing environment.  That pretty much describes me for much of my life.  If asked, I would say I lose interest in things quickly.  I have a habit of dabbling.  I know just enough about a myriad of things to be dangerous.  That doesn't, however, mean I'm like Ziggy Stardust aka David Bowie over there.  What it does mean is that I can get bored more easily with things than others do.

So there you have it.  Except it isn't so true anymore.  You see, I've caught a case of metathesiophobia.  What's metathesiophobia?  It's the fear of change.  Yeah, really.  And believe me, it took a while to find that word.  Even longer to learn how to spell it!

I'm not exactly sure when this metathes--  uh, fear of change began.  Was it after those four moves in two years that occurred during and after the divorce?  Or is it just a by-product of getting--  uh, maturing?  Whatever it is, it isn't good.  Not good at all.

The world is changing, sometimes at what seems like the speed of light.  Change or the need to change can sneak up on you, then, like a cat, pounce with claws extended to force you to recognize, acknowledge, and accept it.  Yeah, sometimes it is painful, especially if you're not paying attention.

While someone reading this might think that I believe change is bad, that isn't true.  I may be a blonde, but I understand that change is inevitable and, in most cases, good.  Without change, we'd still be living in caves...if we'd survived as humans...and drawing crude pictures on walls while we grunted at each other.

For me at this point in time, it comes down to the changes occurring in the publishing world.  (You can read my thoughts on this at Diary of a Mad Romance Writer.)  Here's where I am with that.

• I recognize the changes.  In fact, it would be hard not to.  
• I acknowledge that they're happening.  To not do so would be foolish.
• I accept the changes.  I understand that these changes can be beneficial in some (or many) ways.

But embracing these changes as my own is where I'm stuck.  Believe me, I dislike being stuck even more than I dislike change.  Even more, I hate not being able to find one of those nifty names for it.  I've been dragging my feet about stepping into the world of indie publishing.  There is a name for that, although it doesn't come from the laboratory.  It's FEAR OF FAILURE.  The biggest symptom?  PROCRASTINATION.  

Being the Queen of Procrastination, I'm personally acquainted with what that's all about.  I also know that I'd like to abdicate my throne so I can move forward into this new millennium while I'm still around, not only to enjoy it, but to do it.  And since I've already mastered those three steps above (recognize, acknowledge, and accept), it's time to take action.  

I've agreed to help a friend indie publish one of her books.

Obviously I haven't take that leap of faith in myself enough to do this myself.  But I am working on it.  In fact, as soon as I post this blog, I plan to face my metathesiophobia and start working on my own project.  Hey, what can I lose except the time it will take?  And at my age, putting things off (procrastination) because of fear of failure (or change), is really kind of pitiful.

So if there's something you've been avoiding for whatever emotional reason, come join me in my battle against this crazy fear of change.  Together we can rule the world!!  Or at least make some headway in our own lives.

It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed. ~ Theodore Roosevelt

Where Do I Sit? or Is This Some Kind of Sign?

 Last night, while I was on the phone talking to fellow author and friend Kristi Gold,  I leaned back in my office chair.  To my surprise, it and I kept going, until chair and I were in a reclining position.  It isn't a recliner.  Normally.  It might have tipped on back completely, if it hadn't been for a large plastic bin that awaits a trip to the attic...or storage shed, whichever comes first.

Maybe it was my fault.  Earlier yesterday evening, I'd sprayed WD-40 on the squeak that was driving me crazy at the base of the chair.  While it wasn't my throne--and far from looking like the elaborate chair on the left--a few months ago I'd given some thought to replacing it.  Still, the chair and I had become comfortable with each other and it wasn't in such bad shape that I desperately needed a new chair.  That has changed.

But a new chair isn't a part of my budget.  My bad for not getting one when it might have been, but who knew?  I'd passed on the old office chair to my youngest, and it wouldn't have been right to repossess it.  As if she would've let me.  There's also an oak captain's chair that I purchased at an auction, long, long ago.  I tried it this morning, first thing, but my desk sits high, and I had to reach up for the keyboard.  Not good when there's some CTS involved.

And then I remembered that I'd recently given some thought to using an upholstered bar chair with arms that I used years ago with a drafting table.  So after taking the broken chair out to the shed to await trash pickup day, I brought in the tall chair from the kitchen where it wasn't really being used, except to hold the dishtowel and an extra roll of paper towels.  It's a tad bit narrow and will probably require using my keyboard on top of the desk, instead of on the pullout keyboard drawer, but adjustments are sometimes necessary.  It's comfy, too, which is a requirement when sitting at a desk all day.  And while it doesn't lean or tilt, that may be a good thing.

Even if I don't have a throne and haven't figured out yet if any of this is some kind of sign--such as the need to lose weight--the question of where to sit has been answered.  At least for now.  Maybe a change in chair will bring a change in luck.  I do like that idea!

Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine. ~ Robert C. Gallagher