I get this question a lot it seems, and I'm not sure why. What is is about romance novels that make those who do not read them, question me as to why I read them? Is it because they contain *gasp* sex? they whisper. Am I trying to escape from something? they ask knowingly. No, actually I'm not, thanks. Are they serious? These lovely people cannot fathom why I want to read "smut". It's as if they don't consider it literature, and so I quickly tell them that many, if not most romance novels are very well written, and the stories are full of romance, angst, history, fabulous plot lines, and yes, sex. That always gets an eyebrow raise! Usually these conversations are funny, and it ends with me recommending an author for them to start out with if they're interesting in taking the plunge. I have no idea if they actually read the book I recommend, but I've done my part for the good of the genre. I remember when I first began getting into romance n
You all knew it was coming...the much 'anticipated' school rant. I call it a rant because despite the semester being over December 13th, I still do not have all my grades, which were due in the 20th, and because I don't have all my assignments back from two professors. So far, I have two A's and one A- out of six classes. The group internship was ridiculously unorganized, despite any attempt on my part to get it situated. I finally conceded leadership to another student, mostly because none of them responded well to my tries to get us going. This girl, who was very nice, had an annoying habit of waiting until a day before something needs done to let us know which parts we need to do. They were all campus students, of course, with part time jobs and ample time to do homework. Add to this a non-profit that also dumped content on us at the last minute...imagine my frustration. The work--meaning building an entire website--was completed, and a manual for the comput
Tonight, around 8pm, we lost Piper. I have to get this out, so please forgive me for the rambling. Piper was 9 years old, but never acted like she was an older dog. She was full of energy and life. Piper was probably the sweetest dog I have ever had the privilege of having in my life. She always wanted to be where you were, whether it be in the bedroom, or in the living room--she was there. At the beginning of this month, I noticed she was breathing funny. Her entire stomach was going in and out, along with her chest, and I knew something wasn't right. She wasn't eating well, but we had just changed foods, so I thought she didn't like what we had bought. We went back to the old food, and she still wouldn't eat. She sounded like she had a cold, but I couldn't shake the feeling there was something else going on. Our vet confirmed her diagnosis of blastomycosis, a fungal infection that coats the inside of the lungs with a thick yeast, making it difficult t
I said I wasn't going to post or blog about it, and I'm not. This could be about any situation. I love being purposely vague!
ReplyDeleteI know, sorry! It's better this way, trust me!
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