July 8th Challenge

Hi it’s Christina –

Good Morning! I hit the 10K mark for Camp NaNoWriMo! It’s amazing how productive I can be when no one is at home to distract me. Actually, I probably would have gotten even more done, but I did have a distraction which threw me off, and it took over an hour to get back into the flow.

Normally I could care less when folks pop by unannounced or call to chat, but when I’m writing, it frustrates me to no end. If it’s a quick two second thing, I can usually recover, but if the person insists on more than a few minutes, I can’t hold on to the image in my mind.

Picture a soap bubble floating through the air. Inside is a complete and magical world. A gentle breeze may alter the bubble slightly, but it remains intact. However, if the bubble is forced to land, it pops. Sure, you can blow a new bubble, but it will never be the same as the first one.

I confess, when it happens, I come off less than congenial, because I’m fighting desperately to hold on. I know I have hurt some people’s feelings when it has happened, but I can’t seem to make them understand.

If I were a surgeon, would they pop into an operating room to tell me their dog learned a new trick or their manicurist’s daughter was pregnant with triplets? No, they would wait until I was done. However, if they need to tell me something urgent, life threatening, or time sensitive, fine; but someone best be in peril and specifically need my help. Otherwise, it can wait until after 3:00 pm when I usually call it quits. (When you start around 5:00 am, you’re allowed to end your day at 3:00.)

Something strange happened to me yesterday, and I would like to hear your take on it. When Lys came home, we went to ShopRite to pick up something for dinner. While I was shopping, Lys ran over to the Dollar Store, because she wanted to get a water bottle to bring with her to camp, and she did not want to pay $9 for the ones they had at ShopRite (she got my frugal gene).

I finished shopping, and went to the car to wait for her. I was sitting there, windows rolled down, when a young woman walked up to me, with her three year old daughter in tow, and said she needed help. She had picked up her daughter from the baby’s father’s house, and was headed home to Philipsburg (an hour north west). The baby was thirsty, and she needed gas, so she stopped at the ATM to get money. That’s when she discovered she lost her debit card. The bank was closed, so they couldn’t help her. She couldn’t call the baby’s father, because he lost his license and couldn’t get to her to help. She asked if I had any money. All I had was about a $1.25 in change, because I very rarely if ever carry cash on me. I gave it to her. At least she could get the baby something cold to drink.

She thanked me and left, but I felt bad for her. If she was legit, then she needed help. Of course this all happened right around seven, which is when our officers are changing shifts, so there wasn’t a cop to be found. The police station is a couple of blocks from my house, so I made a detour on my way home. See, in my brain I figured if she needed help, our police would help her, but if she was scamming folks, or police needed to know.

So I go in, bump into one of my old high school buddies and tell him what happened. He was going off shift and asked if I would wait for a few minutes for someone who was just coming on duty to talk to me. No problem, end of the day, he worked twelve hours and he wanted to go home, I get it.

Less than five minutes later, I get this officer I have never seen before - which I thought was strange, because our officers are a pretty hands on group, they are always around town, they interact with the public constantly, you bump into them everywhere; so even if you don’t necessarily know them by name, you know them by site.

Anyway, he wasn’t exactly rude, but he was abrupt – again, not typical of our police force – especially since I didn’t do anything wrong. I tell him what happened, and he basically tells me what he’s going to do if he finds this girl is call social services and have her kid taken away because she obviously can’t provide for the child. Are you freaking kidding me? Okay fine, if she’s scamming folks and using the kid in the process, that’s one thing, but what if this poor girl really lost her debit card and is only trying to get home?

He said it wasn’t his job to figure that out. Really? What part of “To serve and protect” is he missing? He even admitted he wasn’t a very compassionate person. Well, I’m sorry, compassion is pretty much a requirement for a civil servant. I can just about guarantee, if I had gotten ANY other officer, this would have been a different experience. They at least would have given the girl the a chance to explain her situation, where this guy deemed her guilty, sight unseen. What, is he so insecure in his ability to read people, he just automatically thinks the worst until proven otherwise?

I have the utmost respect for our police department. You have heard me sing their praises many a time, and I firmly believe one bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch; but this dude need to go back and take a refresher course in humanity.

Was I wrong to think police would be able to help? Do you think there’s a chance the girl was telling the truth? Should I have just turned a blind eye to someone in need like most of society does? Here I wanted to help this girl, but because luck drew me the one jerk we apparently have, I may have gotten her kid taken away from her. I seriously lost sleep over this last night. So what do you think?

Okay, two “heavies” in one blog is too many, so I am going to escape into a HEA ending for a few hours. I hope you have a terrific day, and happy writing!

Your Last Challenge was:

Left, right, left…

“Left…Left…Left, Right, Left!”

For hours on end. My voice is going to give out soon. Why is this so difficult? Eight steps to ten yards, it’s not rocket science for God’s sake. It’s walking people, the only difference is you need to do it together. You’re just walking now, what are you going to do when you have to play while you’re walking? Oh ho, and just wait until you have to make actual formations and not just straight lines.

Oh no, there he goes. Every year there’s always one. A drummer trips over his pontoon feet, rolls over his base drum, ends up flat on his back, then resembles a turtle while he tries to regain his feet. I’m getting too old for this.

“Much better that time. Let’s try it again, from the top.”

Your Next Challenge is:

“You can’t marry him/her!”

(The love of your life is about to marry someone else.)

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

April 15th Challenge

Hi, it’s Christina –

We’re having a slightly soggy Tuesday here in central NJ, but at least it’s warm. Then again, what better weather to have on tax day? That’s right folks, it’s the dreaded April 15^th. To all my non-US friends - April 15^th is the deadline to file your state and federal income tax returns, a day all Americans hate.

Today is the last day for the raffle that’s running on my blog, so I spent precious time trying to locate where I put the ad, so I could post a reminder in all the zillion social media places I seem to belong. I have to be at work early today, and then I have my critique group tonight, so for the first time since NaNoWriMo started, I’m concerned I won’t make my word count for the day.

Although yesterday was productive, I only finished one chapter, and I was hoping to finish two. Where I left off, things were heating up between Kieren and Logan, and Sebastian, the cat, was MIA; but you have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about because I have been so bad at posting chapters this time around. I owe you several at this point, and I will remedy that situation tomorrow. (I don’t want to have three blog posts in one day.)

I know you have no way of knowing this, but I just had a momentary detour from this blog post. I needed to take a break to bring Dani out to the bus. I realize she’s fifteen years old, and it’s not like I walk her to the bus stop and wait with her, but I do go outside. We usually wait at the top of our driveway, then when we see the bus round our corner, she gives me a kiss goodbye, and walks to the end of the driveway to get on the bus.

Well, this morning, I noticed a can on the lawn, so I handed it to her and asked if she would toss it into the recycle bin at the end of the drive. Today is recycle pick up day. Then, because my stomach has been a little funky for the past two days, I had to run in to use the bathroom, so I left her outside alone. No big deal right? She’s fifteen. What could happen?

I’ll tell you what could happen. While she was waiting, a van pulled in front of our driveway, and stayed there until they saw my daughter pull out her phone and start to back away. Then they sped off. It was me she was calling, and I ran outside, but the van was gone by the time I got out there. I only got about five seconds of explanation before her bus pulled up, and she left for school.

I hemmed and hawed, then decided that since she was so rattled by what had happened, I called our local police. I told the dispatcher I didn’t have many details, but I wanted them to be aware of what had happened. She said she was sending an officer over. Oh joy. There I am, in my nightgown and robe, hair sticking up on end, and she was sending someone over to my house. I asked her to give me ten minutes. I hopped into the shower and got dressed.

As soon as I walked out of my bedroom, my doorbell rang, and of course, Colby started barking his head off. I cracked the front door and told the officer I’d meet him outside. The last thing that poor man needed was to be covered in Colby fur for the whole day, because Colby would have jumped all over him, and kissed him, and would have wanted him to play. Crazy mutt!

On a side note, not for nothing, but we have the nicest, and best looking, police force anywhere. All of our men and woman are exceptionally good looking, and any time I’ve had to deal with any of them, they were so incredibly sweet.

Anyway, back to my story. I go outside to speak to the officer, tell him the minute amount of information I know, then he says he needs to speak to Dani. Sure, not a problem. I run in and get my phone, call her, and tell her he needs to speak to her. She wigs out. She doesn’t want to talk to him. She has told me everything she knows. The officer must have heard the tone of her voice, because he said she didn’t have to talk to him directly, and that I could ask the questions.

The van was a purplish blue. It was smaller than our van. It was older than our van. It had a snubbed front end. The windows were blacked out, even the front ones (which is illegal in our state). There was a roof rack. The license plate was white, but she didn’t get a number. There was movement in the front seat, so she was able to determine there were at least two people in the van.

Guess she didn’t quite tell me everything, huh? I was glad, after she calmed down, she was able to give quite a few details. Even though it still wasn’t a heck of a lot to go on, it was better than just “a van”. The officer said he would tell the other patrol cars, just in case the same van stops at any other bus stop, but he was pretty confident we had nothing to worry about.

Dani is not a little kid, and could, at a distance, be mistaken for an adult. There is construction and a detour at the end of our street. The person could have been stopping to ask for direction, then pulled away when they realized they had scared Dani.

I’d like to think it was innocent enough, but honestly, Dani doesn’t spook too easily, and something put her guard up. That, and the illegal blacked out windows doesn’t sit well with me either. Needless to say, I will be diligently watching my daughter, every morning, until she steps onto her bus.

Okay, if I have any hope of getting any work done on Faerie Tale Queen today, I had best get going. I hope y’all have a fabulous (and safe) day, and happy writing!

Your Last Challenge was:

Does this taste funny to you?

I’m going to preface this one by saying it is completely fiction. There isn’t an ounce of truth to it. It never happened, and if you know me, the chances of it ever happening are slim and none, and slim just left the building. Okay, here goes…

So, the other night, I went out with my girlfriends for a few drinks. Tammy had just landed her dream job, and we all got together to celebrate her good fortune. Now, I’m not much of a drinker. If it tastes like alcohol, I’m not drinking it. I have however, found a drink I enjoy. It’s a sea breeze, or bay breeze, or madras; I can never remember the right name, but it’s the one with pineapple, orange juice and cranberry juice.

We finish our first round of drinks amongst a lot of talking and laughing and carrying on, and then Tammy buys the six of us another round. I take my first sip of my second drink, and it tastes strange, but I figure it must be from the handful of bar snacks I had just chomped down. I take another sip. Nope, there’s something not quite right. I turn to Lisa, who’s sitting next to me, and ask her, “Does this taste funny to you?” She takes my drink and smells it, then asks if it has pineapple juice in it. When I tell her yes, she tells me she’s allergic to pineapple. So, I tell her not to worry about it. I take one last sip, then push the drink to the side. No sense in drinking it, if it doesn’t taste good.

After a few minutes, things started getting a little bizarre. The music and noise in the bar started to get really loud, and then muffled. The girls at my table became cartoonish, their mouths gaped as they laughed and their teeth became freakishly large. The last thing I remember is Tammy’s face melting off and a skeleton speaking to me, asking if I was alright.

The next thing I knew, it was the next day, and I was waking up in my own bed. I don’t remember anything else from that night, or how I got home. Oh, and did I mention the new Tweetie Bird tattoo on my butt?

Your Next Challenge is:

Write a story about a day in the park – but here’s the twist, you can only use dialogue…

You have 10 minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

December 16th Challenge

Hi, it’s Christina – 

Only nine days left until Christmas, and I’m starting to stress over how much I still have to do; and I won’t get much accomplished today either. At ten, I’m supposed to be at the Somerset County Home for Temporarily Displaced Children wrapping donated gifts. Hopefully I’ll be finished by two. Actually, I have to be finished by two so I can make it in time to pick up my daughter when she gets home from school and get her to her chiropractor’s appointment. I’ll have just enough time to pop a chicken in the oven before we leave so we’ll have something for dinner tonight.

Yesterday’s cookie exchange was postponed to Thursday night. Even though the roads were clear, my driveway was not, and it was far too dangerous to allow folks to try and walk on it. We couldn’t get the snow blower working, but I doubt it would have mattered anyway because the snow was probably too icy to blow.

My husband started shoveling by hand around noon. By three, he was about half way down the driveway when a truck with a plow on the front pulls up and the driver yells, “Get out of the way, I’m tired of watching you.”

My “big brother” Kenny drove by on his way to plow out his sister Sharon’s drive and saw my husband shoveling. After he finished his sister’s house and was headed to the next place he had to plow, he saw my husband was still shoveling and pulled in to the drive. He could have just driven past the house, gone on to the next appointment – which he was late for, and we would have never even known he was in the area; but he didn’t. How sweet was that? So, Kenny Ball, you are my hero of the day!

Okay, as I said, I have TONS to do, and I would like to get a jump on them before I have to leave, because from 9:30 on, my day is pretty well shot.

I hope you have a wonderful day, and happy writing!

Your Last Challenge was (I thought this one would be a quick one for you):

 

Since this has inadvertently become the season of wishes, tell us your one most outrageous wish from Santa, one you know would never happen, but it is still fun to wish for…

 

Have any of you heard of the band Trans-Siberian Orchestra?  They are this group who do the Christmas classics as well as Tchaikovsky on electric guitars, keyboards and such. Trust me when I say, even your kids would love classical music if they heard TSO playing it. They are incredible and they put on an amazing show. I have been to a couple of their concerts, and I can’t wait to see them again when I can afford the tickets.

Anyway, their first album was Christmas Eve Sarajevo, and the title song from the album is the first thing I put on to get me in the Christmas spirit. It is a powerful piece, and it has always been my secret wish to someday be allowed to conduct it. Actually, I don’t know how “secret” my wish really is, because EVERY time it’s played, I can’t help but conduct – even with full gusto when there’s no one there to watch.

Your Next Challenge is:

 

Write a story containing the following three things: A Gingerbread Man, Candy Cane(s), the Police

 

You have 10 minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.