from Portland, ME

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    • Fact is Better: New Amsterdam II

      9 years ago


      I was at my Dad's house last week to pick up some giveaways for an alcohol promo I had later that night. He wasn't home, so I let myself in. While digging out t-shirts, I heard the front door open, so I went down to say hi.

      *coming down the stairs as my dad is coming into the house with a large white package under his arms, he looks up at me super guiltily*
      Me: "What?"
      Dad: "WHAT?!"
      *Dad nervously shifts the package in his arms*
      Me: "What's in the bag, Mike?"
      Dad: "Nothing. Nothing! Don't ask me. It's nothing."
      Me: *peer at him suspiciously*
      Dad: "No! I can't tell you 'cause you'll blog about it!"
      Me: "I'M NOT GONNA BLOG ABOUT IT. I promise!"
      Dad: "Okay, I bought something else for New Amsterdam."
      *He rushes over to the kithen table and excitedly pulls out a disco ball from the bag*
      Dad: "It lights up! And rotates! AND IT'S SOUND ACTIVATED! WATCH!"
      *he holds the disco ball up to his mouth*
      Dad: "Hah!" *it lights up* "HAH!" *it lights up* "HAH! HAH! HAH!" *it lights up in three different colors*
      Me: "And now you're getting blogged about."
      Dad: "You promised you wouldn't . . . SHWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" *he screams at the ball, and it lights up in a slew of colors, spinning slowly*

      True story.

      Further proof that fact is better than fiction.

    • "Maybe It's Me"

      9 years ago


      Gratitude, or, The Sweetness of Life

      I am thankful.

      For still being able to climb apple trees.

      For polar bears.

      For the smell of the ocean.

      For music that makes me cry and written works that stir my soul.

      For French-press coffee.

      I am thankful.

      For being healthy . . .

      . . . for being healthy enough.

      I am thankful.

      For the great state in which I live in and have specifically come back to and for time after time. I will never not be mesmerized by the beauty of autumn here â€" the way the trees ignite with color; I will never not be hypnotized by the first snow fall â€" the way it looks like a thousand tiny cold diamonds blanketing our pine trees.

      For proving that I didn’t need a degree to be successful.

      For living my dream of being an author.

      For being able to pay my bills!

      For living in a country where I can practice my religion, eat or not eat whatever I choose, wear whatever I want, think however I want, and thrive as an opinionated independent woman without fear of persecution.

      I am thankful.

      For my dad, who, while I think we both spent years struggling to understand each other have given up and now just thoroughly enjoy one another for what we are. I have a great relationship with him and his generosity continues to baffle me. While fundamentally we might not see eye to eye, he makes me laugh, teaches me ridiculously useless things, and continues to provide excellent fodder for the writer in me.

      For my sister, who at some point in time crossed the line from just being a sibling to being a best friend, too. And who better to call a friend than her? She knew me when I was four, when I was fourteen, when I was twenty-four. And through all those life changes, she was right there. She is the only other person to go through most of when I went through, the one other person who knows every part of the comedy and tragedy that made up our family life.

      For my mom. Always and forever, for my mom. The strongest, most courageous, most benevolent woman I know. She is the biggest champion of my cause, and the person who loves and appreciates every quirk about me the most. She has and always will bath me in her love and support. As I look on towards my impending adulthood my only hope is that I can be half the woman, mother, wife, and Child of God she is.

      For my step-parents. I don’t tell them enough how much I appreciate them. They make my parents happy, and that is ultimately the number one most important thing to me: the people I love and their happiness. And while they don’t have to, I appreciate their involvement in my life. They have their own children, they don’t need to remember little things about me, like how I take my coffee or how I get cranky when I haven’t slept, but they do. They are kind and lovely people.

      I am thankful.

      For my pet which, despite my occasional annoyance for his troublesome bunny ways, has become quite the companion. It’s oddly comforting to come home to a large empty flat and find this very small curious creature enthusiastically waiting for me. For me! And to be able to keep him and continue to care for him and his well-being, especially in an economy where daily people are giving up their small critter friends because they simply can’t afford them, warms my heart.

      For friends far and close, the ones who touched my life very briefly yet altered it forever, and the ones who are in it for the long haul and cherish every moment whether remarkable or unimpressively trivial. They’ve supported my every endeavor, encouraged me to jump, kept me humble, and loved me unconditionally in spite of my awful self sometimes.

      For the memories I have of the people I don’t.

      Life and the living of it is imperfect and at times, downright difficult. I think we all need to take a deep breath and acknowledge that in that imperfection there is tremendous beauty. And maybe it’s me, but it seems terribly important as individuals and as a community of people that, even if only once a year, we take the time, we allow ourselves, to simply let our hearts overflow with gratitude and appreciation for everything, for all the things, big and small, that make living life wonderful and worthwhile.

      I am thankful.

    • Fact is Better: Eternal Damnation . . .

      9 years ago


      is Better Than a Theater Full of Teenage Girls

      Recently I attended a midnight showing of the premier of a teen angst movie, which also happened to have some vampires in it. Knowing full well that I was going to be bringing the medium age of attendance up by six or so years, I prepared myself for what I knew was going to be a ridiculous evening.

      My friend, The Cake Maker, and I stood in line, drinking our energy drinks (because it's hard to stay up 'til on a work night; where do these kids have all this energy?! Ugggghhh *gulp**slurp**gag*), and when the cinema let us in she and I briskly walked to our designated theater to get good seats. And, despite the fact that our tickets read "152" and "153" of the two hundred tickets available, we managed to get the best seats in the house.

      Me: *texting my mom* "We totally elbowed the teenagers out of the way and got the best seats!"
      Mom: *texts back* "You have become a frightening old bag."
      Me: "My mom says we're frightening old bags. So hey, while I was waiting for you in your room, I noticed that you were playing some farming game on Facebook."
      The Cake Maker: "Don't judge - look where we're sitting right now! Besides, it's the best thing to do at when you can't sleep. You make sure the cows are good. CHECK! Make sure the pigs are happy. CHECK! How's the corn doing? GOOD!"
      Me: "A lost baby turkey was apparently trying to be a part of your farm, but I denied him. Was that okay?"
      The Cake Maker: "Fuckin' right it was, who wants a bunch of turkeys running around like little bastards?"
      Me: *choking with laughter*
      The Cake Maker: *laughing so hard, she tears up* "Shit, I don't even know what that means."
      *a group of teen girls walk in front of us*
      Angsty Teen Girl: "Like, OMG, I hope my mom isn't all like a douche tomorrow morning trying to wake me up for school."
      Me: "I'm gonna kick someone."
      The Cake Maker: "Screw that, if these teeny boppers try to do the slow unified clap, I'm gonna punch someone in the throat."
      *more teenage girls walk by in PJ pants and slippers, wearing "Team Edward" shirts*
      Me: *in business casual attire I'd been in six* ". . . well, I'm underdressed."
      The Cake Maker: "AND YOU KNOW THEY PLANNED THAT! Like, they called each other up to see who was wearing what colored PJ pants and changed eighty-five times to find the right PJ look. Ugh."
      Me: "The funny thing is that the idea of being lusted and lusting after a vampire seems exciting to these kids. It ignites some part of their imagination getting to see that there's a pretend world where imaginary creatures, like sexy vampires, fall in love with ordinary girls. What they don't realize, is that this is a completely attainable thing when you're older. You just look at your boyfriend and tell him 'Tonight we're gonna play vampires. So bite me.' Annnnnd, with that you don't actually have to worry about eternal damnation or the sacrificing of your soul for immortality, which none of these kids realize isn't such a glorious end."
      Theater Operator: "Ladies and gentleman, we're about to start the movie, please turn off all cell phones."
      *a slow clap unified starts sporadically through the crowd*
      The Cake Maker: *cracking her knuckles* "Eternal damnation doesn't sound to bad compared to this. If they cheer when the lights go down, I swear . . ."
      *the lights go down and all the teen girls squeal with glee*
      The Cake Maker: *perks up in seat and looks all around her* "REALLY!? REALLY!? Cheering because THE LIGHTS WENT DOWN?! I DON'T WANT PEOPLE LIKE YOU RUNNING THE WORLD. OR TAKING CARE OF ME WHEN I'M OLD . . . OLDER. YOU'RE NOT A GOOD GENERATION!!!"
      Me: "Thanks for coming with me."
      The Cake Maker: "Hey, sure, anytime."

      True story.

      Further proof that fact is better than fiction.

    • Today's Grocer Book Review

      9 years ago


      Today's Grocer wrote a book review on The Ice Cream Theory!

      I was really happy that my new friend, Dennis, went out of his way to show so much support and love for the book!


      (No, but seriously - if you haven't learned to hang a spoon on your nose yet, do it - it's how I win all the fella's hearts!).

      Anyway - YAY! for good people helping us little indie artists!

      Read the whole article here!

    • Fact is Better: Medical Students . . .

      9 years ago


      Don't Understand the Importance of Carrots

      In June of 2009 I was rushed to the hospital because it seemed I was having a stroke. It wasn't a stroke. It seems it's actually some kind of brain disease in which no one can figure out. They've been calling it "brain anesthesia." Trying to make the best of the situation, I go into every doctors appointment looking to be entertained.

      My most recent follow-up, I was very entertained.

      I was brought to a room by a nurse and shortly thereafter the neurologist showed up. This time with another doctor. Usually there are never that many people in these examination rooms.

      *looking from the nurse to the new doctor to my neurologist*
      Me: "You didn't tell me we were having a party."
      Neurologist: " . . . we're having a party."
      Me: *eye roll*
      Neurologist: "This is a medical student. He is excellent at figuring weird things out."
      Me: "Are you calling me a weird thing?"
      Neurologist: "Yes. But that's not new news."
      Medical Student: *chipper* "So what's wrong?"
      Me: "Are you kidding me? I have to explain everything all over again?"
      Neurologist: *smugly nods before taking a seat in the back of the room, leans back and closes his eyes*
      Me: *quickly explains everything that's been going on*
      Medical Student: "Wow . . . this is an odd situation, hunh?
      Neurologist: "Yes, she's a conundrum. Enough questions . . . play with your subject already."
      Me: *stands up and begins performing sobriety tests*
      Medical Student: "Done this before, hunh?"
      Me: "Yep."
      *medical student touches my face and asks me where I can and can't feel him*
      Medical Student: "Patient is numb on her right side."
      Neurologist: "That's her left."
      Neurologist: "Check her heart. It seems a little frigid today."
      Medical Student: *puts stethoscope to my throat*
      Me: "I'm not impressed with this situation."
      Medical Student: *pulls back real quick* "Ow! Loud!"
      Neurologist: "CLOSE YOUR MOUTH. STOP TALKING."
      Medical Student: *puts stethoscope back*
      Neurologist: "I don't want your sass today, Beer Model."
      Me: *eye roll*
      *they run more tests*
      Neurologist: "So, what's wrong with her? No pressure, just . . . give us a diagnosis."
      Medical Student: "Umm . . . this is a very exceptional situation. She's lost her sensory nerves it seems. I don't know, maybe she's . . ."
      *at the same time* - Neurologist: "Hysterical," Me: "Crazy"
      Medical Student: "Maybe we need to run an EEG and an EMG?"
      Neurologist: "Maybe another spinal tap. She loves spinal taps."
      Me: "And carrots. Love carrots."
      Medical Student: "Carrots? I don't get it."
      Neurologist: "You wouldn't it, and what did I tell you about sass?"
      Me: *eye roll*

      True story.

      Further proof that fact is better than fiction.

    • Fact is Better: New Amsterdam

      9 years ago


      I went over to my dads the other day and found him and my step-mom sitting in their new hot tub - which looks like the Barrel of Monkeys barrel.

      It's in their garage, and my dad rigged straps to the ceiling to act as handles when getting in and out of the tub - the straps look suspisciously like a sex toy.

      My dad also changed all the lights in the garage so they're red - he told me its so people can't see him from the streets that way.

      I told him it looked like the Red Light District in his garage and I would no longer be inviting any of my friends to meet him.

      When I showed up, this is how I was greeted . . .

      Dad: "Welcome to New Amsterdam!"
      Me: "You're calling it New Amsterdam?"
      Dad: "Yes!"
      Me: "I'm really uncomfortable with this."
      Dad: "Do you wanna get in?"
      Me: "Do I wanna get in a hot tub with my dad in what looks like a soft core porn movie set? No. I don't."
      *my dad stares at me*
      *I stare at my dad*

      Me: "But, hey, do you think I could use the hot tub on Sunday?"
      Dad: "DURING THE DAY?!?"
      Me: " . . . yes."
      Dad: "No."
      Me: "Because?"
      Dad: "Because only creepers use hot tubs during the day. Cool people use the hot tub at night."
      Me: "Fine, then can I come over to eat and do laundry."
      *my dad gets out of the hot tub and starts walking with me back to the house*
      Dad: "Okay, but you're not allowed to eat in the hot tub.'
      Me: " . . . what?"
      Dad: "There's no EATING in the HOT TUB."
      Me: "Oh. Well. Shame, too, since I was definitely going to find the messiest thing I could consume and eat it while being a creeper in your hot tub."
      Dad: "You're not allowed to pee in the hot tub."
      Me: "Well, that sucks, 'cause there's nothing like bobbing in your own urine."
      Me: "Aww, man! I just bought him little water wings, so he can float!"
      Me: "Alright, I'm leaving. Nice board shorts by the way."
      Dad: "Yeah, they're pretty sweet. Unless they're wet and its cold outside."
      Me: "Some shrinkage there, Dad?"
      Dad: "I'm not gonna be sword-fighting anytime soon, if that's what you're asking."

      True (disturbing as it is) story.

      Futher proof that fact is better than fiction.

    • I'm an Award Winning Author!

      9 years ago


      "The Ice Cream Theory" won it's category - Wild Card - at the 2009 Nashville DIY Book Festival!

      I never heard back from them, so I assumed I had lost. I went to scope out the list of winners last night to see who my competition was, and - BAM! - there was my name!


      Let's hope I can win something at the New England Book Festival next month - winning wone "at home" would mean the world to me!

      To check out the full list of winners, visit!

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