Sunday Blog Share: 30 Signs That Your Significant Other Is Clearly Trying to Drive You Insane

Time for a little more hilarity from Brian. I think he’s spying on my life.
Comments are closed here on Sundays. Click over to Bonnywood Manor to continue laughing.

30 Signs That Your Significant Other Is Clearly Trying to Drive You Insane

by Brian Lageose

Note: Change the pronouns around however you like to fit the dynamics of your own relationship. This is an equal-opportunity whine-fest, and all variations of love are fully embraced here at Bonnywood Manor.

1. He changes the car radio right in the middle of a song that you really, really like. (“I can’t stand that song,” he mutters, apparently forgetting that you danced to this very song at your wedding. Twice.)

2. She stares at the restaurant menu for 37 minutes and still cannot find anything that remotely interests her. Yet she wanted to go to this place. (“Madge says they have the best seafood here,” she had chirped in the car on the way over, apparently forgetting that Madge was convicted of fraud in the 90s. Twice.)

3. He doesn’t understand that inviting his friends over for dinner at the very last minute might be an issue in any way. (“Can’t you just kill another chicken?” he asks, wrongly assuming that humor will defuse the tense situation. It does not. But it does give you an idea of what else might be served for dinner.)

4. She makes fun of the fact that you can’t parallel park. (“Honey, the dog could do a better job. Hop out and I’ll scooch over.”)

5. He eats the last yogurt in the fridge that you picked out and leaves the crappy one that he chose. (“They all really taste the same, don’t they?” No. No, they do not. Never speak such blasphemy again.)

6. She insists on going down every single aisle in the grocery store. (And she insists on sniffing every single candle in the home décor aisle, even the candles that you know damn well she sniffed last week. They still have her nose-print in the dust on top of them.)

7. He doesn’t have a plan in the grocery store, and he runs from one end of the store to the other at least 26 times. (On his fourth jaunt down the dog-food aisle, a bell rings and there is a brief ceremony wherein the store manager hands him a frequent-flier award.)

8. She thinks it’s okay to answer her phone right in the middle of the Immunity Challenge on “Survivor”. (“Oh, hey girl!… No, we’re not doing anything… Joe is watching some beach sport thing… Say, honey, could you turn the sound down a little bit? This is an important call. Thanks!…. So, girl, tell me more about these sandals you just got… uh huh… really?…”)

9. He lunges to close a window on his computer screen every time you walk into the home office.

10. She starts any conversation with the phrase “I was talking to Mom the other day…”

11. He starts any conversation with the phrase “Why are you dressed up like we’re going somewhere?”

12. She abruptly ends a conversation by saying “whatever you think is best” and then leaving the room.

13. He makes that soul-killing sucking noise trying to get food out of his teeth. It takes all of your strength to not whip out the shop-vac and shove it in his mouth.

14. She sneezes like somebody stepped on an anemic mouse.

15. He sneezes like an elephant getting a rectal probe, and then he insists on following it up by hollering “DAMN!” like he has no idea what just happened to him.

(Continue onward: 30 Signs That Your Significant Other Is Clearly Trying to Drive You Insane)

Sunday Blog Share: Equality

A stark poem about the pain of alienation.
Beautiful and raw, it reads like a plea.
True equality won’t come with a law but with an open heart.

Equality

by Candice of The Feathered Sleep

 

The day I came out … all my girlfriends took one step apart

it can’t be they collectively agreed

she’s too pretty, she’s too feminine, she’s not a dyke she’s one of us

didn’t she enjoy sex with that boy in the garden? you know that party the one where

they turned the lights on and saw them straddled in tall grass?

What happened? Did you get raped? Was it because you grew up without a mom?

What happened? Did you get bewitched? Is she a sorceress? A genie? A devil?

Soon after the invites to go out on the girls-nights

dwindled

the newly minted lesbian sat alone with her shadows and her eye make up

growing stale in their plastic boxes

virile boys wondered why they hadn’t kept her straight

cleavage girls wondered if she had looked at them in the shower the wrong way

why didn’t you try it on with me? her bi-curious mates inquired, offended

as if loving a girl was loving the entirety of the species and jumping…

(Continue Reading: Equality)

Sunday Blog Share: Dreamer

A tender and beautiful poem for the morning.

Dreamer

by Sue Vincent

 

If I could dream a dawn
Into existence
It would wear your face
In its sleep.
If I could dream a morning
It would wake to your breath,
A pillowed silhouette against the dawn,
The space between filled with warmth
And the tenderness
Of tangled legs…

(Continue Reading: Dreamer)

Sunday Blog Share: How to explode with ideas for your sequel

 This is the best article I’ve read on how to come up with ideas for a sequel or series. I highly recommend it for any authors toying with the idea!

 

How to explode with ideas for your sequel

by Alecia Akkalon

 

I decided to write a sequel for my WIP, and in days I went from having no idea what it might be about to having dozens of ideas. Here’s how.

I try to avoid writing “how to” posts because I’m generally of the opinion that I know nothing about anything. This post is more “how I got lots of ideas for a sequel”.

(Sorry I deceived you with the title. I feel awful about it.)

I’ve always considered my work in progress to be a “stand-alone with series potential”. That is, the main story question is answered by the end of the book, and at least one of the main characters survives the climax to potentially appear in a subsequent book.

Rats, now I’ve let a spoiler slip. Well, what did you expect from me? I like happy endings and for people to get what they deserve.

The problem was that until recently I had no idea what might happen in a sequel. I thought maybe I’d used up the possibilities of this world and set of characters.

But I also had no concrete plans for a new world (except that there will be unicorns).

Then I looked up and realised I was within a month (okay, maybe two months) of sending my draft to beta readers. And when I do that I want to start writing my next book.

Now, I spent six months planning this book before I started writing, and I don’t think I could have rushed the process.

So cue panic…

(Continue Reading: How to explode with ideas for your sequel)

Sunday Blog Share: an ordinary day

A stunning, heartwarming poem about parenting a young child with diabetes. Love and play and wonder in an ordinary day.

Comments are closed here. Please click through.

an ordinary day

by Sarah W. Bartlett

For ten days I lived the learning curve
of diabetes, partnering with my beloved son
to help his through maternal leave,
given the grace of time to relish
each extraordinary moment.

The first hour’s sing-song babbling
lifts from crib to giggled hugs and undercover
hide-and-seek en route to the day’s first blood glucose test
followed by calculations of insulin and carbs,
breakfast planned to even out
the hours to come.

This child, so gentle and joyful of spirit
accepts each poked finger and prodded thigh
with grace, a lesson I cannot fail to notice sets
the warp of our day through which we weave
our patterned way, each hour
a new adventure.

From Grandma’s blocks we build
to hold what he loved at the aquarium –
octopus by the elevator climbing glass walls,
his giant purple sac blowing up bigger then smaller
carefully reconstructed through his two-year
old imprint, giant tank within winding
ramp, sea lions sunning beyond.

(Continue Reading: an ordinary day)

Sunday Blog Share: Let’s go to the place where the sidewalk ends

Happy Mothers Day! What better way to celebrate than to share a heartwarming story by Allie Potts who routinely captures bits of wisdom from her children. Comments are closed here, so click through to Allie’s wonderful blog and smile.

Let’s go to the place where the sidewalk ends

By Allie Potts

LT sat on the tire swing in our backyard, alone. His brother had gone to play with a friend leaving LT to amuse himself while his father and I completed our chores. His legs were curled up as they wouldn’t touch the ground even if extended. As a result, the swing was nearly motionless except for a gentle sway with the breeze. I watched as his mouth move and wondered what the conversation he was having with himself might be about. He looked content, but it was a lonely image.

The last of my cleaning could wait. “Do you want to go to the park?” I called out, thinking there might be other kids he could play with. LT beamed, eagerly accepting my offer and soon we were walking down the street to our local playground. LT chattered about things like clouds, giants and other friendly monsters, smiling at everybody we passed along the way. Never once did I have to tell him to hurry up, or stay with me, or explain why he shouldn’t be carried. Who was this child?

Continue Reading: Let’s go to the place where the sidewalk ends

Sunday Blog Share: The Flower Girl

This flash fiction piece by Richard Ankers was so poignant and beautiful that I asked for more… and he acquiesced and gave me Part 2.
Comments are closed; please read part 1 here and click through to part 2 below.

The Flower Girl

by Richard Ankers

She’d braided daisies into her hair with the skilled fingers of a seamstress.

“How old?” I’d gasped.

“She’s five.”

“Where did she learn?”

“Not from us. One day, she just wandered into the meadow behind our house and started picking flowers. We watched from the garden gate with smiles from ear to ear. She left us dumbstruck when she began weaving them into her hair.”

Colleen placed her cup back on its saucer as the little girl laughed and danced and sang her chirping songs.

“Well, I’m staggered,” I said. And I was.

“Everyone says the same. She’s a very talented child.”

“You must be very proud,” I commented.

“Oh, we are. The best thing that ever happened to us was planting her.”

“Planting! I’ve never heard it called that before.”

“She still sleeps in the same pot,” Colleen continued as though in a dream. “We fear for her every frost.”

I don’t know what it was about the little girl but whenever the weather grew cold, I feared for her. The sun never seemed warm enough after that.

(Continue Reading: The Flower Girl, Part 2)