Imari's World of Writing

New Release - Snowy Carolina

2011-12-18T10:08:00.001-08:00

NEW RELEASE

SNOWY CAROLINA
BY
IMARI JADE

All song-writer Palin James wanted was to return to Piedmont, North Carolina, a place where she always felt safe. She planned to raise her future kids away from the hustle and bustle of city life. But her dreams could be shattered if construction owner Sean Nichols got his hands on her uncle's land.

Sean Nichols always dreamed of opening a winter resort on a patch of land owned by his deceased neighbor. He'd always thought his younger brother Pete shared his dream until Pete fell in love with the land's new owner. Was blood thicker than water? Or was love more powerful?

http://passioninprint.com/ShowBook.php?CR=IJ_SNOWYCAROLINA

Coming Soon - Twisted

2011-08-29T16:03:00.001-07:00

Coming Soon

Sugar and Spice Press

http://sugarnspicepress.com/

TWISTED

Imari Jade

(Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.)

Release Date: September 3, 2011

Billionaire inventor and entrepreneur, Ballentina Ferrari accidently discovers that her live-in boyfriend, Erik Masters is cheating on her. And despite the fact that her friends have been telling her this for years, sweet and innocent Tina doesn’t believe them until she sees it with her own eyes.

The only thing that has been keeping her sane is her weekly martial arts lessons with the quiet and reserve Kevin Chen, who has now become her business partner. Kevin likes Tina but would never think of interfering in her relationship until one day he too sees Erik cheating and right in front of Tina. Will he just stand idly by and watch the girl of his dreams suffer, or will Tina finally wise up?

http://imarijade.com/

Friday Night Frights

2011-07-22T16:39:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Frights

Imari Jade

What the hell is wrong with the Internet and my Yahoo? I don’t know what’s going on by my virus protector is about to run. I don’t think it’s the computer, I think some stupid person could be hacking Explorer this time.

Anyway, I got caught in the rain at break time this morning. Four of us were outside on break when it started to rain. Three of us ran inside, and one stayed out. The three of us got soaking wet trying to get back to the office before our breaks ended, while the other one waited for the rain to end, not carrying if she was late or not. How come good people get punished for following rules? So I run into the first floor bathroom for some paper towels to dry off with and I notice that I have to matching wet spots on my blouse at the nipple point. One of the ladies laughed and told me it looks like milk leaking. I didn’t think that was funny. So I had to use my hands to cover up the wet spots until I got into my office and put on my sweater. I dried about an hour later.

I got on the bus this afternoon and sat in the first available seat I could find. I put my MP3 buds into my ears, pulled out my Pandigital Reader and pushed the button to turn it on. A man sat down next to me and kept bumping me with his arm. Okay, you’re bigger than me but I paid for this seat so stay on your own side, I thought. Then he turns around and asks me about my reader. Duh? I have ear buds in my ear. I can’t hear you. I pull one of them out. Bad move. He starts a conversation. First of all, he smells like beer. Then he asks me if I work at Taco Bell. I’m dressed in blue dress pants and a blue shirt with blue roses around the collar. The last time I checked Taco Bell workers wore uniforms. Then he starts telling me about this business he has opened, but his daughter is running it. It has something to do with tools, and they’ve decided to split the business 60/40. Then an eighteen wheeler passes on the left side of the bus and he tells me that his grandson wants one and he promised to buy him one. Okay, I’m not the brightest bulb in the world when it comes to some things, but my instincts tell me that he lives in a fantasy world better than any I can create, and I know he does not one, own a tool shop, or two, can afford to buy his grandson an eighteen wheeler.

I have my hand on the reader button the entire while he’s talking. Then he tells me that he’s never seen me on the bus before. I’ve been riding that bus for years, and I have seen him before. The only problem is that I’m usually sitting somewhere on the other side and toward the back reading or writing, but all those seats were taken. Why do people want to tell me their life story? He goes on to say that his wife gets mad at him when he doesn’t come straight home when it’s raining. She accuses him of being with other women…which he denies. You’re trying to hit on me on the bus so you think I’m going to fall for this. He told me that he was going to stop at a bar and get a couple of beers before he goes home, and later he and his family were going out to eat Red Lobster.

He asks me if I have a car.

“No, I don’t like to drive.”

Apparently he doesn’t have a car either so why ask this stupid question if you see me on the bus with you?

Somewhere along the way he asks me if I’m off for the day.

“No, “ I tell him. “My day is just beginning?”

He doesn’t understand or perhaps he thinks I don’t understand his question. “Aren’t you just getting off of work?”

“Yes, but I’m on my way to my second job,” I tell him. I didn’t tell him that my second job is writing.

“You have two jobs?” he asked.

“Yes,” I told him.

“What does your husband think about that?”

“I think he should be damn happy he has a wife whose working?” I told him.

What is wrong with people? I don’t have to ask my husband to allow me to work? One, I don’t have a husband, and when I did have one I didn’t have to ask permission to do anything. The same thing happened to me a couple of months ago when I was shopping in Wal-Mart. An old man asked me why I was spending all my husband’s money on groceries. You see, my basket was running over, as it usually is. I didn’t need to tell him that southern women cook and that their families come to dinner most of the time. It was none of his business but he proceeded to follow me around the store and make comments. Wal-Mart is lucky I didn’t leave the basket and walk out of the store.

Now back to the other story. He finally gets his butt off the bus at the Walkertown terminal. By now I’m pissed because it’s too late to read since I only have about a mile to go (which in bus rider terms that about 15 minus of riding and stopping). And it’s a very good story and I only have a couple more pages left. The writer has one of the leading men in a precarious position and I wanted to find out how it ends. But it had to wait because once I step inside my door I transform into either Maw Maw or Imari, which mean either I’m being bossed around by toddlers or I’m writing.

First of all, please do not entertain me with conversation if you see damn ear buds in my ears and I’m reading. Two. I do not want to talk. Three. I do not want to talk to men reeking of beer. And four, I do not want to date old guys, who don’t have cars, who live in fantasy worlds and who think that I need a man to take care of me.

So I get in and I turn on Twitter. It won’t load. Foxfire won’t load, Explorer is acting stupid, so I decided to get off the Internet and write this blog while I’m waiting for the scheduled virus protector to run.

Now back to the blog title.

I found out today that a book I thought was going to be released on August 1, 2011 was released on July 19, 2011. So here is the new title: Cursed. Publisher: MoonGypsy Press.

Isn’t the book cover gorgeous?

For those of you who don’t know, I don’t only right erotic romance. I also write paranormal and horror. This is the blurb. Yes, the book has sex in it, and vampires and werewolves.

Roxanne Toussant returns to her hometown of Gabriel Corners, Canada to find the whereabouts of the creature that killed her father and best friend when she was a little girl. No one believed her back then but she joined the Royal Canadian Mounties to prove them wrong. Days after she returns women started disappearing, followed by bodies popping up all over the place. Aided by her partner Dominick Bienvenu and the town’s coroner, Alexander Du Monde, Roxanne takes on the town of skeptics while, hobnobs with the town’s elite while slaying all the other monsters that have appeared since she arrived.

Royce Carauld had no idea that beautiful young woman he saw in a restaurant would be the woman of his dreams. But as he falls in love with her he knows that he cannot be completely honest with her because he guards a family secret that he can’t tell her about. All the male members of his family are drawn to her and don’t know why. Royce has ordered them all to stay away from her until he can discover what makes her so different. They all listen except his uncle Simon, who turns out to be a thousand year old vampire who also knows about the monster in the woods.

Genre: Paranormal/Horror | Content Advisory: 3 | 104,046 words

Buy Link:

http://www.moongypsypress.com/jade.php

It’s available at the above website and will be available on Amazon soon.

It’s also available here:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cursed-578041-140.html

You can read an excerpt at both sites.

So what does this mean? I have to stay up tonight to promote it because I think I have another book release tomorrow. Sometimes these things are organized and I know about them way ahead of time, and sometimes they’re not.

Either way I will have three new books in circulation which means I have to get my web mistress to update my gorgeous website. I intended to come into this house and call the cable people to come out, but once again, things never quite work out the way you plan them.

Upcoming Events

2011-07-16T06:15:00.001-07:00

Upcoming Events

Imari Jade

Good morning,

I can’t believe July is almost over. I’ve been very busy so I haven’t had much time to socialize. Five days a week I work as a financial analyst and a month ago our office moved into a beautiful new building in Algiers, Louisiana. The only problem is most of the site is still under construction. We had to wade through mud and water a couple of days last week, and the Internet sucks, but on the good side it’s a much lovelier building than what we were in. One of the downsides is that I have no sense of direction and I get lost trying to find my office every day.

I’d like to remind you all about the release of my new book, “Prying Eyes,” debuting Monday, July 18, 2011 at Total Ebound. You can pre-order it right now at:

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1285

Hopefully it will be available for Kindle and Nook real soon.

Also on Monday, I will be a blog guest at:

Teresa Jones’ Writing on the Go blog:

http://writingonthego.blogspot.com/

and

Interracial and Multicultural Books (IRMC Books):

http://www.irmcbooks.com/

Please stop by and leave a comment.

My upcoming releases include:

August

Curse – (Horror Romance) – A female Royal Canadian Mountie hunts for a serial murderer in Gabriel Corners, Canada.

MoonGypsy Press - http://moongypsypress.com/

Bite Me (Part of the Midnight Thirst Anthology) – (M/M) – A young man falls prey to a sexy male vampire.

Melange Books - http://www.melange-books.com/

September

Rhapsody – (Menage) – A beauty female singer almost destroys a rock band because she can’t make a decision between the two lead male singers.

Total Ebound: http://www.total-e-bound.com/

Will update more later.

Series Notes

In Deep Kimchi – Sugar and Spice Press (Book 1) – (Doing well). http://www.sugarnspicepress.com/

http://www.amazon.com/In-Deep-Kimchi-ebook/dp/B004JHYMWW/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1310820379&sr=8-2

Saranghae (I Love You) – Sugar and Spice Press (Book 2) – (Surprising Everyone)

http://www.amazon.com/Saranghae-I-Love-You-ebook/dp/B0055HYTKK/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1310820379&sr=8-3

Untitled Book – Sugar and Spice Press (Book 3) – Almost finished.

Coming Soon

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye – Horror/Vampire/Romance – MoonGypsy Press

French Teasers – (Chocolate, Boys and Bed) – M/M Romance - Lethe Publishing

Imari Jade

2011-07-04T08:18:00.000-07:00

Coming July 18, 2011

Total E-Bound

Prying Eyes

Imari Jade

White sandy beaches, crystal blue waters, and beautiful naked bodies. What more can a voyeur ask for?

Fashion model Michael Richards has always liked and admired his female modeling partner Amelia Wilson from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Amelia is the girl next door with the peaches and cream complexion, the type of woman you wanted to take home to meet your parents and nicest person you ever wanted to meet.

But curious by nature Michael feels that there is something not right with this picture. No one can be this perfect and he is bound and determined to find out what truly makes Amelia tick. So when the chance comes up for the two of them to travel to the Bahamas for a photo shoot Michael quickly volunteers to drive the two of them to Florida to board the airplane, figuring a few days in his company is either enough to bore Amelia to tears or get her to shed a bit of her inhibitions.

Amelia Wilson has a dirty little secret and the last person she wants to find out about it is her partner Michael Richards.

Michael is cultured, refined and drop dead gorgeous with all that blond hair and mesmerizing green eyes. What would he think of her if he knew that she had a thing for watching people making love? Or if he found out that she got turned on by watching dirty movies? Would he be so anxious to fly to a tropical island with her to get to know her better? Or would he toss her out of the car and tell her to get back to New York the best way she can?

$2.96

Pre-Order your copy today.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1285

2011-06-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

Let the Celebration Begin

Imari Jade

I want to start this celebration off by saying Happy Birthday to the love of my life Micky Yoochun. Twenty-five years old today. Boy I am going to hell (growl). But that’s okay. I’ll gladly endure the flames for him or with him, whatever happens first. (Smile). I’ll be celebrating for two days with him since it’s actually just the third of June here in the United States but the 4^th in South Korea. Here’s to celebrating it in person with him next year.

Secondly, I’m celebrating finishing the first edits of my upcoming book with MoonGypsy Press, “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye.” You guess it. I’ve written another paranormal and this one is set in New Orleans, the fifth scariest place in the world. It’s got three sexy master vampires, a kick-ass fine vampire slayer, a drop dead gorgeous werewolf and a host of other freaky paranormals. I mean something for everyone.

Lastly and certainly not least, I’m celebrating tomorrow’s release of my second book in the Asian Romance series, “Saranghae, (I Love You)” with Sugar and Spice Press. So get those Kindles, Nooks, Pandigitals and all other readers ready. It’s coming out in a format to please everyone.

I can’t believe that six months have passed since the first book “In Deep Kimchi” was published. It has met with great reviews and has received several five star ratings at Amazon.com. I’d like to take this time to thank my fans for receiving, “In Deep Kimchi” so warmly. And to the few that didn’t like the book, well, I still value your opinion. You gave me some great ideas for the second book. Yes, this one has lots of sex, so open up your hearts and wallets and buy the second book.

Now back to the sex thing. Everyone knows that I write erotica and no one was expecting such a sweet book. The only explanation I can give you is that I wanted to write a love story and that’s exactly what “In Deep Kimchi” is. It’s the love story. These are twenty-four year old male characters and she’s a very young looking and acting fifty year old woman. How could I write it any differently? Shaundra is not a slut and most people don’t fall into bed with a person they barely know and from a different country no less. If you don’t know by now I’m a romantic. I love when two people from completely different worlds meet and fall in love with each other, defying obstacles and setbacks. That’s what makes us human and if you sleep with a person just for sex, more power to you. My characters have more substance than that.

So let’s revisit them.

Shaundra Love Morrison is a fifty year old African American writer. Her husband is dead, her kids are grown and she’s the grandmother of two young boys. Shaundra works for a publisher named Harper Kehoe. He’s a forty year old divorced white man who is in love with Shaundra and asks her to accompany him to Japan to help open a new publishing company in a partnership he’s formed with Mr. Niigata, an entertainment mogul. Shaundra wants to help Harper out but she’s afraid to fly. Then she sees a picture of four long haired Asian pop singers that Mr. Niigata manages and something awakens in Shaundra. She agrees to the trip and accompanies Harper and three other zany writers to Japan with the aid of the drug Valium to help her endure the long trip.

Shaundra survives the trip but is nearly run over in the hotel lobby by a group of young people as soon as she arrives. She is caught by a young man with a beautiful face and long dark hair. Shaundra doesn’t think anything of it at first and then realizes later on in a hotel bar that he is the lead singer of the group Aomori represented by Mr. Niigata. His name is Yori Morika, an arrogant, no sense of humor young man who asks her to dance through one of the other singers, the piano man, Satoshi Hayashi. Shaundra turns Yori down at first because she finds him rude and obnoxious but later discovers that he’s also downright sexy. The next day she is formally introduced to the rest of the group, Ichiro Yoshida and Takumijo Yamazaki, along with four Japanese writers who are also helping Mr. Niigata with his new publishing company.

Through the story Shaundra meets a lot of people, gets blasted on YouTube having fun with the young guys and drive her grown children crazy with what they perceive as uncharacteristic behavior from their mother. They, like some fans I’ve heard from think Shaundra, at fifty should be home helping raise the grandchildren. Wrong. Shaundra devoted her life to raising her kids, working and now she’s finally given a chance to kick back and have some fun. And it’s not her fault that men are starting to come out of the woodworks. One fan didn’t think that all these men can be attractive to this one woman. Why the heck not? Go back and read the book. They do not fall in love with her because she’s a sex kitten, they like her because she honest about her feelings and her sexuality and she’s nothing like anyone they’ve ever met. Typical, no, possible, yes. True, heck yes. Fifty percent of this book is fiction, the other fifty is true. I’ll just leave up to you to guess which part of it is true. Throughout the story Shaundra is posed with the question what would she do if one of these young men actually fell in love with her. You have to read the end of the book to find out. I surprised everyone including my kids with the ending. Sometimes one has to live for themselves and screw everything else.

Now let me tell you about Saranghae (I Love You), it picks up where In Deep Kimchi left off. Shaundra is still involved with Aomori, but I’ve introduced a couple of new characters, Cristal Gentry, Aomori’s new publicist, and Yi-jun Lee a handsome Korean actor and Satoshi’s best friend. The guys of Aomori are still as crazy as ever and are getting crazier. I tried to give them some redeeming qualities but failed horribly. They are what they are, hot Asian guys with gorgeous bodies and faces. And surprisingly enough Cristal and Yi-jun fits right in with the craziness. Its set not only in Osaka, but I’ve dropped them in China, Korea and Paris, France.

I really feel good about this book and book three in the series is nearly finished. It started talking to me before I finished book two. I’m a little nervous hoping that “Saranghae” lives up to and surpasses “In Deep Kimchi”. So please write a review if you like it.

Here’s to the good times. Saranghae everyone. I Love You, Micky.

Imari Jade

http://imarijade.com/

Promo - Saranghae (I Love You)

2011-05-23T17:21:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon to Sugar and Spice Press

http://www.sugarnspicepress.com/

June 4, 2011

Book 2, Asian Romance Series

Saranghae (I Love You)

Imari Jade

Shaundra and Ichiro have returned to Asia after their spectacular wedding, but things are far from perfect. Shaundra still has a fear of flying and Ichiro is worried that she might become addicted to the drugs the doctor prescribe. Shaundra is less than happy that her now successful restaurateur husband is too busy to spend time with her and the Takumijo and Satoshi still hasn’t moved out of the farmhouse. And to make matters worse, Yori and his new bride Amaya has moved in, along with Aomori’s new publicist Cristal Gentry, a striking biracial female who seems to have Satoshi and his best friend Yi-jun Lee, and a popular Korean actor wrapped around her fingers. What’s a poor girl to do to get her husband alone?

Marriage is nothing what Yori Morika expected. His new bride Amaya not only spends money like crazy but she’s back to her old tricks starting mess with Shaundra. He hasn’t helped matters any by continuing perusing Shaundra, who now seems to have a very close friendship with Satoshi. Are there some lines that friends should not cross and was it wise to move himself in the farmhouse with so much temptation just there for the taking?

Cristal Gentry never knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to become the new publicist for Aomori. Satoshi and Takumijo are bad enough, getting her in trouble with their manager Masaaki, but then she meets Yori and Ichiro and she thinks that maybe she’s in way over her head. Things heat up in her life when her boss sends her to get an interview with the reclusive Korean actor Yi-jun Lee, who just happens to be a friend of Satoshi. Although she’s strictly business with him Yi-jun has plans of his own as he whisks her away to Paris to show her the time of her life. Yi-jun is everything she despises in a man, so why does her heart do a double beat at just the mention of his name? And why does Satoshi’s steamy looks leave her simply breathless?

Read Where It All Began

In Deep Kimchi

Available on Kindle at

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/In-Deep-Kimchi-ebook/dp/B004JHYMWW/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1306193852&sr=8-2

Juggling Cotton Balls

2011-05-11T17:55:00.000-07:00

Juggling Cotton Balls in a Snow Storm

How to Multi-Task with Deadlines

Imari Jade

My ex-husband once told me he received an outstanding evaluation at work that said he was able to juggle cotton balls in a snowstorm. I finally figured it out that it meant he could multi-task even under difficult conditions and get the job done. Too bad he wasn’t like that at home then maybe we’d still be married…no I doubt that. He had too many issues. No, I’m not getting sentimental and no I don’t miss him or being married. The topic just came to mind after spending the last week pushing out mass quantities of work that all hit me at one time.

About a month ago nothing was happening with my writing. Oh I still wrote everyday but I hadn’t heard from publishers I had submitted to, I hadn’t had a new release since January and I didn’t find anything new when I Goggled my name. I was beginning to think that I was in a slump.

Being in a slump is different than having writer’s block. Writer’s block is when you can’t think of anything to write about or you’re stumped about how you’re going to get your heroine’s butt out of trouble once you run her into a brick wall. A slump is when nothing is going on in your writing career and you’re not communicating with your fans. It can also mean your fans have purchased everything you have written and are busily reading other writers until you publish something. It can also mean you have failed to come up with a plan to encourage new fans to read what you currently have punished. Either way, nothing was going on. Having fans is like being married, you have to work to keep the communication open. So from now on I’m going to try to keep this relationship working with my fans by taking the time to not only blog but to participate in chats.

To continue, I kept seeing other authors posting new book covers on Facebook, they were blogging and announcing new releases while I wasn’t getting anything in my email except excerpts and promotions from them.

I should have enjoyed the peace and quiet, but to tell you the truth it drove me crazy, yet I kept writing. I opened the email and I had a Facebook note from one of my publishers. In January I won a writing contest and she was ready to offer me a contract but I had to send the rest of the manuscript since I only needed to enter the first three chapters for the contest. Well, to make a long story, the flash drive where the manuscript was located had gotten corrupted which meant I had to type everything but those first thirty pages from scratch. (Thank god for four years of high school typing and two years at secretarial college and thirteen years of being an executive secretary. The original manuscript was 209 pages long and lucky for me I can type a little over a hundred words a minute on a good day.) I was also lucky that I normally print out a copy of everything I finish and file it. I usually back up my flashes too but unfortunately I forgot to do it this time. I should have learned a lesson when this happened to me last year. Normally I learn from my mistakes.

So I started typing last Thursday evening after I got home from work and I typed late into the night until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I resumed typing Friday evening after I got home from work, all day Saturday (while babysitting three grand-children) and all day Sunday. I finally finished around nine that night, so I read over it, spell-checked it and read over it again before submitting it the publisher around eleven that night. I promised that I would have it to her on Sunday and I did everything that I could to meet the deadline. Little things like this happen to everyone some times in their lifetime (to me it happens every other day). I could have given up and said “F---k it,” but I’m a professional which means there is no such thing as giving up.

So, while I typed away on a peaceful Mother’s Day things started appearing in my email box. First two stories got accepted, two covers appeared, two contracts, a ton of forms, and bills and each needing my attention and needed to be taken care of by me. In my head all I wanted to do was get the five new manuscripts I’ve been working on during my slump typed.

What did I do? I worked on the ASAP stuff first after prioritizing them in accordance to importance. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the publisher for the story I had re-typed emailed me that she needed a synopsis of the story, an author info sheet and a book cover info sheet, and as you guess the synopsis was on the same flash that got corrupted so I had to type it from scratch. That’s what I did first; I typed the synopsis, and filled out the author’s form and the cover form and finished around eleven thirty last night. Since it was Monday, I still needed to do promotions, so I found the blurb and excerpt I needed and posted to my Yahoo Groups and MySpace until midnight. My Twitter page wouldn’t load so I couldn’t post there and the link did funny things on Facebook so I just went to sleep.

This morning I still couldn’t access Twitter from home, so I just charged my MP3 player so I could listen to it on the bus while I wrote. I went back to one of the five manuscripts I was working on but I had to keep flipping back through pages to find the heroine’s name. I’m using a three subject notebook to keep up with these five manuscripts. (This is not a very good idea. It’s better to use individual steno notebooks if you insist on writing your novels in long-hand first, like I do. It’s best to use individual steno books, and always put your characters names and descriptions on the first page before you begin.) I thought you should know that I’m buried knee deep in steno books from all the writing I do. I plan to finish all five manuscripts by next month since they all have a July deadline. Two of the manuscripts have taken a life on their own. Two are in the beginning stage and one is just a premise. By the weekend I hope to have their character dossiers and novel blueprints mapped out.

The third book in my Asian series is a little over halfway finished. I got the edits to the second book, Saranghae (I Love You) in the email yesterday. This is my top priority for tonight.

Sooner or later I have to sit down and get my holiday submissions finished. I need to update my Amazon Author’s page and my website. I wish I could clone myself. One of my books needs a book trailer. I need to visit Good Reads and put my last book on it and I need a manicure and a pedicure (that will have to wait until the weekend.)

Funny, people are wondering why I’m not actively dating at the moment. When the heck do I have time? The main reason because the man I want is in South Korea. Well, actually he should be making plans to come to the United States for his concert in two weeks. I still haven’t decided if I want to make the twenty-nine hour train ride to see a two hour concert. Time is running out and I still have to make reservations if I plan to go. I just feel like I’d be missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime if I don’t go.

I can use the excuse that I need to see his handsome face in person for inspiration, but I would have to free up four days and I wouldn’t really get any writing done in those four days except when I’m in my hotel room. And I’d like to at least do the tourist thing for one day while I’m in Jersey, but I hate to do anything like that by myself. I can’t take him with me because chances are he’d get mobbed. I don’t have a problem staying hunkered down with him in a hotel room for a day (smile).

Note to JYJ promoters: Please have them give a concert down south next year in a place like Florida, Louisiana, Texas or Atlanta. We love them but it’s very expensive to go up north.

So what have I been doing the last hour? Besides typing this blog, I’ve washed a load of clothes, cooked meat sauce and spaghetti, baked garlic toast and answered the doorbell. FedEx just delivered my new TB external drive to back up my flashes. (Like I said earlier, I usually learn from my mistakes.) I’ve also talked to my mother on the phone. Now that I’ve juggled cotton balls in a snow storm it’s time to get back to work. Saranghae’s edits are waiting.

Imari Jade

Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy

2011-03-29T18:35:00.000-07:00

Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy

Imari Jade

It is seven o’clock and we’ve lost power twice to a severe rainstorm. I barely made it into the house this evening before it came down. If the bus driver had procrastinated five more minutes at the terminal I would have gotten drenched. I hope the power stays on long enough for me to complete this blog. The severe weather alert I have downloaded to my computer keeps chirping every time there is an important weather bulletin. Let’s see, we’re under tornado watch, flood watch, severe weather watch, and god knows what else. It’s kind of spooking being home alone. I’ve taken my bath and was trying to put some music on my MP3 player but so far I’ve been unsuccessful. I just got the Original Theme Songs to “You’re Beautiful,” and I want to hear it on the way to way to work tomorrow. Darn, the storm just wiped out my television. Okay I got it back on. I need to watch the Weather Channel, or at least listen to it. It’s starting to hail. I have 100 mile an hour wind resistant windows installed. I hope I don’t have to test them, and I hope their hail resistant. I hope I don’t have to get into my walk-in closet because it’s too cluttered to walk in.

Today’s blog title is Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy. True I can say that this blog is about candy…eye candy, that is. I had a doctor’s appointment this morning. I got out about 8:30 but I missed the bus and had to wait another hour for another bus so I could go to work. Five minutes after I arrived at the bus stop a man came up and started a conversation. He started off by discussing the bus schedule and telling me that he used to be a bus driver for the city of Los Angeles before he retired. He was a nice enough gentlemen and before I knew it we were deep in conversation about the state of the city post Katrina, our kids, the kids of this generation and fishing on Lake Ponchatrain.

So in an hour I found out that he was retired, was a widower, had six kids, and was an army vet. He asked me what I did for a living and I told him. I handed him one of my business cards and told him to check out my site.

By the time the bus finally arrived there were about five of six of us waiting. I got on first and then he got on and came sat next to me. We continued our conversation. I was really flattered that he thought I was younger than I am. He is sixty-eight and living in a retirement home. He told me that he was on his way to VA but would be moving in another retirement home soon on the other side of the Mississippi River. He told me that he thought I was a nice young woman, complemented me on my manners and for not being stuck up like most women he’s met, told me I had a beautiful smile and asked if he can take me to lunch one day. I told him sure. I’ll probably never see him again, since my business card does not contain my real name, or my phone number. I don’t expect to see him again or go out with lunch with him. And it’s not because I didn’t find him charming, or intelligent and well-mannered. Okay, you know what’s coming…he’s sixty-eight and I don’t date anyone older than 40. What can I do with a sixty eight year old sugar daddy, except take his money? That’s not me. I’m strictly into sugar babies.

So what exactly is a sugar baby? My definition of a sugar baby is a young man between the ages of 25 and 40, tall, Asian, lithe and more beautiful than handsome. He has to have fashion sense, good manners, and great personal hygiene and can financially support himself, preferably a Korean music idol. Yah’ll know I was going there. Fine black guys around my age don’t fit into that category, (they’re more like Hershey candy bars, delicious to look at but bad for my blood pressure) so this blog is not about them. It’s about my current personal choice.

I really should pen a book on forming relationships on buses. I’ve heard women say that they can’t meet a man or a good man no matter how hard they look. Honey, you should get your butt out the car and ride the bus. Not a day goes by when a guy doesn’t strike up a conversation with me. It is not bragging, but the honest truth. Half the time I don’t want to be bothered, have my face buried in a book or writing, but for some reason they just start a conversation. I won’t say that’s a bad thing because I’ve gathered a lot of character information just by talking to people. It’s one of the basic rules of writing, listen to the people around them, talk to them and pick out the little quirks and differences you can use when you develop a character for a short story or a novel. So far it’s been working.

Okay I’m starving so I have to make my way to the kitchen to get me something to eat before this power goes out. I better save this before I step away and take the flash light with me. It took me five minutes. I had to run past my patio door in case the wind decided to blow it out. I threw some salad fixing on a plate, added salad dressing and dinner is done. Son number 3 will have to fend for himself tonight. I fixed steak and baked potatoes yesterday and he didn’t even touch it. See what I mean about black men? This one is gorgeous but he stresses me out with his poor eating habits. P. S. I pretended I didn’t see those two boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts on the table that he brought home. I had to reset the time and the alarm again on the clock.

Now back to the blog. Let’s compare a sugar baby to a sugar daddy. I’m talking about other people’s sugar babies but not mine. He fits into another category and there’s not enough room on his blog today.

A sugar daddy is an older man who likes to go out with a much younger woman, take her to dinner and then dancing. He shows off in front of his friends because he’s with a younger more attractive woman and his friends are in the bar with much older women…possibly their wives. He dances all the dances from his generations, drinks Jack Daniels and Coke most of the night and falls asleep at the table when the young woman goes off to the ladies’ room.

A sugar baby is a young man who likes to go out with a much older woman, takes her to McDonalds or Pizza Hut to show her off to his friends, takes her dancing at a club versus a bar, knows all the current singers and their songs, can dance their ass off on the dance floor, drinks Hennessey or Patron most of the night. He may get drunk, but not if he has other plans for the evening. He watches you as you walk to the ladies room and is standing outside of it waiting for you when you get out so you won’t go off with some other sugar baby on the way back to the table.

A sugar daddy will call you every day to see how you are doing, tell you that he had a good time on your date, and wants to get with you again. He tells you when his retirement check is coming and wants to spend it on you in return for you going to bed with him. He’ll pay your bills, buy you pretty little baubles and let you drive his car. Then if you’re foolish enough to fall for this he’ll probably fall asleep or have a heart attack while you’re getting busy and you’ll be scared for life because you think you’ve kill him with your feminine whiles.

A sugar baby will call you when he’s not playing on his X-Box or he doesn’t have any of his friends around to play basketball with. The subject of money won’t ever come up in conversation unless you’re peeping over his shoulder at the ATM machine, but he’ll tell you that he want to go to bed with you because he likes a mature woman who is more experience than girls his age. If you’re foolish enough to fall for his line he won’t be the one having the heart attack because men that age can go on and on like the Energizer Bunny. You’ll be the one scared to get him with again until you recuperate or at least have your heart checked by a doctor.

A sugar daddy wants to introduce you to his kids and his mama and take you to church to show you off to the pastor and the deacons. He wants to see if he can make the women his age drag your name through the gutter for dating an older guy and probably won’t invite you to their home to dinner for fear you’ll either steal their husbands or make their husbands think they can be sugar daddies even though their married. A sugar daddy will even put money in the collection plate for you to show the rest of the congregation that he still know how to take care of a lady.

A sugar baby won’t try to introduce you to his kids because he’s trying to hide the fact that maybe he has a baby mama somewhere in the picture. And he also won’t take you to meet his mama because you and she are the same age and he doesn’t want the two of you to get into a fist fight. He certainly won’t take you to church because he’s afraid he’ll be struck by lightning since he hasn’t been inside one since he attended Sunday school. If he does manage to take you he’ll live in the confessional confessing to all the things you and him have been doing to get your freak on.

A sugar daddy is more affectionate that a sugar baby. He wants to hug on you and kiss you and touch your stuff in public and he definitely have it in his mind that he can still perform in bed now as he could when he was in this twenties.

A sugar baby might hug you if no one’s looking, but kiss you passionately when you’re alone. And he’ll never touch you stuff in public, but will check out your butt if you’re walking ahead of him. And he’ll definitely perform better in bed than a sugar daddy, even if he’s a virgin. And since Sugar Mama’s are more experience in love-making than sugar babies she is willing to teach him what it takes to please here, which is easier than trying to teach an old dog a new trick.

Lastly a sugar daddy will respect you in the morning if he survived the night of passion, while a sugar baby will thank you every morning for just surviving and probably treat you to breakfast at Denny’s to show you off to his friends and his employer.

Okay enough being silly. I have to read over a synopsis and submit a manuscript to my publisher. It’s still raining cats and dogs.

Imari Jade

Jury Duty/No Luck of the Irish

2011-03-17T19:20:00.000-07:00

Jury Duty/No Luck of the Irish

Imari Jade

Today I had to do my civic duty and report to jury duty. I had to get up at the same time, catch the same bus I normally catch each morning (those of you who are not from down South, don’t ask me how I can catch a bus. It’s something like making groceries), but instead of crossing the Mississippi River I got to stay on my side of the river and travel to the Gretna Terminal to catch my second bus to take me to the Gretna Courthouse. Sounds simple doesn’t it?

I want to reiterate that if I am diagnosed with Alzheimer when I get older, remember it started somewhere around this time.

I contemplated not taking my high blood pressure medicine because I didn’t want to spend the day in the restroom, but I woke up with a headache so I had to nix that idea. It was in the high 50s when I walked out of my front door, and dark. The dark part made me very nervous because I couldn’t bring my usual protection with me because I had to pass through a metal detector when I got to court and I didn’t want to have to explain to several big men in uniform, with badges and guns why I had it. (For those of you who don’t know, I don’t look good in prison orange, or Saint Patrick’s Day, green).

I only had to wait a few minutes for the first bus. That wasn’t so bad. I got off at the Gretna Terminal and sat down on one of those cold cement benches and froze my tail off waiting for the bus that was scheduled to arrive in seventeen minutes. The first bus pulled up, but it wasn’t going toward the ferry. The second bus pulled up, it was going to the ferry, but not the Gretna Ferry. “There hasn’t been a bus going back that way since Hurricane Katrina,” a bus driver told me. He also told talk to one of the Jefferson Parish drivers.”

So I walked to the other side of the terminal and the first Jefferson Parish driver I saw was the one I normally catch in the evening. First, he asked me, “What is your name?” Stop laughing Tracee. No, he wasn’t asking just to be nosey. I seem to be drawing the attention of a lot of bus drivers lately. “You ride this bus everyday and I don’t know your name.” (Apparently, everyone who grew up on this side of the river knows each other. I didn’t grow up on this side, I grew up on the New Orleans side, so of course, he doesn’t know my name even though I’ve been riding that bus for over twenty years. So now he knows it. He told me I had to get back on the Westbank Expressway bus and get off on Derbigny and then walk to the courthouse. So I walked back to the Westbank Expressway bus stop and waited ten minutes for the bus, which is the same bus and the same driver I got off earlier this morning. She had done a complete trip across the river and came back. “Maybe I should have asked you if there was a Gretna Local bus earlier,” I said to her. She nodded. “Let me know when I get to Derbigny,” I told her. About a block before Derbigny another lady boarded the bus and she and the driver got into an argument. (We’re talking about 8 am in the morning here). Luckily I was looking for the street because she passed it up without stopping. I rang the buzzer and walked back a block. Then I walked ten blocks to the courthouse, through a neighborhood I didn’t know, but luckily I was wearing my Dr. Scholl’s walking shoes, had my MP3 player playing, and I probably could have outrun anything that got behind me. I reached the courthouse in about ten minutes, signed in and went straight to the bathroom because my high blood pressure medicine had kicked in. Then I entered the jury room.

You can grow gray quickly waiting for something to happen in that place. I didn’t eat before I left home so my stomach was making that empty wild animal sound, so I had to drink a cup of their free coffee and spend sixty cents for a pack of Lance Vanilla Cookies. I’m surprise this didn’t kill my stomach. A clerk came out and gave us instructions. We had to watch a video and then the wait began. There were only four cases on the docket today. Good, I thought. Maybe this won’t take all day. I don’t mind doing my civic duty, but I hate sitting there all day and then at four o’clock they tell me to go home. I brought along two steno tablets and two ink pens but I left my E-reader at home because I was afraid that it would be de-programmed when it went through the x-ray machine. (I should have bought it). But my plans were to write two scenes for “Cherish,” that had been sent back to me for edits and continue writing on the current WIP (work in progress).

The television set was on Channel Four and after the Price is Right went off an NCAA Basketball game came on. Have I told you guys that I hate sports? Well, I do. So I pulled out one of the steno notebooks and re-wrote the two scenes for “Cherish,” began this blog, and then started working on my current WIP that I have steadily been working on for the last two weeks. It’s due to the publisher in two weeks. I’ve been writing on the bus in the morning and on the way home in the evening, on lunch and both my breaks because I’ve been editing “Cherish” at night when I get home. (Yes, a writer’s work is never done, not even when we sleep. I’ve dreamed some of my best premises while slumbering.)

I started getting sleepy and it was freezing in the room, so I put up my writing, signed out and went outside. Another cup of coffee was not an option, because I ran into the restroom again before I stepped outside.

Two trials had been settled without needing a jury so they sent us to lunch until 1:15. I wasn’t in the mood for walking to a restaurant after that long walk this morning, so I stopped at the snack bar and purchased a chicken salad sandwich on wheat bread, a bag of plain Lays Potato Chips (which I know I should not have) and a Pepsi. So no doubt I will be expecting that headache to return because of the salt in the chips. The soft drink was also a no-no since I had been living in the restroom, but I figured the bottle Pepsi was better than the watered down soda from the fountain.

I was trying to wait around to hear the President’s announcement about the radiation crisis in Japan but it was too cold in the snack bar too so I went outside in the warm courtyard. This is the second good thing about jury duty in Gretna; you don’t have to sit in the jury room for the duration of the wait. I would have sat out there all day if I could have. They should put a little speaker outside and call us when they need us. The courtyard is really quite nice with little silver tables and chairs, small sapling trees and a mixture of shade and sun. During this time, I wrote, checked my email on my cell phone and listened to my MP3 player. I went back into the building at 1:05 (after I went to the restroom again) and then back into the jury room. I wished I would have heard the President’s announcement because I can’t watch the news or read the newspaper for the next couple of days. (Explanation below)

At 1:30 the door opened and the bailiff entered and the clerk announced that they needed a jury. They called twenty-four names and mine was not one of them. Those twenty-four people followed the bailiff out of the jury room and I went back to writing, figuring I would be going home soon if they didn’t need any more jurors. This is how things have normally worked since I’ve been doing jury duty in Jefferson Parish.

The door opened again at 2:15 and all of the remaining people in the jury waiting room looked up in shock when another bailiff walked in and said he needed a jury. I guess I wasn’t the only one expecting to go home since we’d been sitting there all day. And wouldn’t you know it my name is the first one they call.

To make a long story short I have to go back tomorrow morning with the possibility of serving on a trial that could have me sequestered for two weeks or more. I don’t know what kind of trial it is and they didn’t tell us. After filling out a very long form, and receiving my new subpoena, they sent me home. I went to the restroom again, and left the building and walked the ten blocks to the bus stop. I called my job as soon as I got to the bus stop and told them that I wouldn’t be in tomorrow. It was so hot outside I thought I was going to faint, but the bus arrived about ten minutes later and I finally made it home around five. I called my mother to tell her that she might not hear from me in a while, explained why and told her I’d call her when they let me use my phone again.

Funny story – We were asked to turn off our cell phones before we entered the court room and I didn’t know how to turn off my phone. Do not laugh Tracee. Everyone knows I hate my cell phone because all I can do is the basics and go to Yahoo for my email. The bailiff had to turn the phone off for me. (Yes, I know now it’s the red button). And it’s not that I’m stupid, I just haven’t had time to read the instructions (they are too small any way) and I haven’t had time to go to the Internet for bigger instructions. Hell, I have mail falling off the dresser because I haven’t had time to read it.

2^nd Funny story – The other day I told you that my brother called me and asked me to call AT&T to get them to send someone out to their house to fix their wires because they are having bad connection problems. My guess is that they need new phones, but anyway, I didn’t have time to call yesterday or today, so when I talked to my mother earlier I told her that she needed to call. She politely told me that she wasn’t going to do it and she was going to wait until she talked to me again (which I interpreted that she is going to wait however long until I am off of jury duty so I can put in the service call from them. There are three adults in that house so if they can’t transact their own business they can just do without a phone.)

3^rd Funny story – My granddaughter Autumn came here after nursery school this evening and wanted to eat. First she wanted yogurt, so her father gave her a cup of yogurt (which she didn’t eat). Then she noticed that I had grilled chicken on the counter and was cooking. I offered her the grill chicken, which she didn’t want. She wanted some of what I was cooking. I told her that it wasn’t ready because I had just turned it on. (1) A three-year old doesn’t understand that food has to cook, (2) A three-year old who likes Italian food knows by smell what Maw Maw is cooking when she smells tomato sauce she does not want Spagettio’s out of a can (well she does sometimes), (3) A three-year old will throw a temper tantrum when she doesn’t get what she wants, and (4) a smart daddy takes her home before Maw Maw puts her out in the backyard (smile).

4^th Funny story – My room had an awful smell when I opened the door this evening. I had turned the air conditioning off this morning because I was cold and Brandon never turned it back on so it probably had a stuffing smell. I didn’t know what it was so I decided to mop the house. While doing so my legs and back started to hurt and then I hit my left knee with the mop handle and saw stars. So after mopping myself into the kitchen I walked over to the table while the floor dried and turned on my computer. I tried to prop my leg up in the chair and I not only got a pain in the knee but I also got a Charlie horse in my foot. Walking twenty something blocks today wore my butt out.

5^th Funny story – Did I mention I saw Stinky Cutie on the bus yesterday? I can’t remember if I posted a blog or not. I missed my second bus home yesterday because I couldn’t cross the street to get to it because of traffic, and the 5:00 bus driver didn’t see me so he pulled off, which meant I had to wait for the last bus going across the river. While waiting one of my princesses (blond-haired guy I’m using as a reference for a yaoi story I’m working on) walked up to the bus stop but boarded the Lapalco Bus instead of the Westbank Expressway. I thought this odd because he always catches the same bus as me but I figured he had a stop to make before he went home. I didn’t see his younger, blond partner (also used as a character reference in my yaoi manuscript). The Westbank Expressway bus arrived a few minutes later, and I boarded, pulled out my MP3 player and my eBook reader and began reading, of all things…Dracula.

The bus stopped on Poydras, and something told me to look up. Stinky Cutie boarded the bus and I started to smile. To refresh your memory, Stinky Cutie is this guy who got on the bus with me one morning about a month ago. What caught my fascination is that the guy appeared to be Korean (which if you don’t know is my soup of the day), had thick neck-length straight black hair, but he was thinner than I liked a love interest to be. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt like he worked in constructions and he sat down next to me. The problem is he stank (be it from not taking a bath or sweating from the construction work, but it nearly knocked me out.) You have to read back in my blogs to find the entire story) Needless to say I didn’t smell him yesterday. Either he took a bath or he passed by me too quickly. Of course I couldn’t concentrate on Dracula knowing he was seated somewhere behind me, and the cougar in me still insisted that I take an interest in him. I think the cougar has this thing for his hair and will probably end up doing something stupid that she will regret the rest of her life just because the guy hair turns her on. Anyway we crossed the bridge and made it to the first terminal and the blond who got on the Lapalco Bus was waiting at the terminal and got on the bus. I don’t know if he just didn’t realize that he was on the wrong bus but it didn’t matter because seeing both of them made my day.

The only thing that made my day today was that there was a new picture on Junsu, Jaejoong and Yoochun on Twitter. (Yes, JYJ still rocks my world). Come on Yoochun, I’m getting desperate any time I’m looking at Stinky Cutie. Yoochun is still husband material for me.

I finally received my TVXQ CD from Korea today, but it wouldn’t rip to my MP3 player. This is the second CD I brought that wouldn’t do it. I paid a fortune for that thing and it took almost two months to arrive because it’s so popular and it sold out on the pre-order, and I can’t carry a CD player around with me. I use my MP3 player not only to listen to but to write by. And UPS also left me a note that I had to send someone to pick up a package tomorrow. The only thing I ordered was a Korean drama (You’re Beautiful). Why someone has to sign for it is beyond me, but Adrian better not lose the receipt and go pick it up tomorrow when he drops the kids off at the nursery because I’m planning to that that DVD with me to Alexandria next month.

So you might not hear from me for a couple of days if they don’t eliminate me tomorrow as a juror. Out of the forty of us, I think they only need twelve. (Like the title of this blog today states, I don’t have the luck of the Irish).

Imari Jade

Bootilicious Buns

2011-03-15T18:18:00.000-07:00

Bootilicious Buns

Imari Jade

Like a fool I thought I’d give an exercise show by this name a try. I previewed it yesterday to find out what equipment I needed to use…nothing but an exercise mat. But before I could start, my grandson came down the street and asked Maw-Maw to fix him something to eat. Me, being me, couldn’t refuse. He, like his father is a very finicky eater. He only wanted sausage, of all things. I can’t get either of them to eat anything nutritious even if I paid them. So I fixed the sausage. And just like typical Elijah, he ate and left.

My feelings are not hurt. He’s always been this way. A few minutes of Maw Maw is all a four year old can tolerate.

Lunch today consisted of one ounce of tuna, five crackers, and a cookie. It was not filling. So I ate a rice cake. That didn’t work either, so I ate another one. I felt full. The two guys in the office had something from Popeye’s, and the other young lady, Tracee is trying to diet too. I don’t know why we even bother if the office smells like fried chicken. You think they would have had the decency to spray some deodorizer. Gentlemen, women can put on weight just by smelling this type of food.

The day was pretty much screwed. Our computer programs were still dragging because of server problems and that made the day very long, so I was looking forward to going home and doing aerobics. My other plan was to mop the house. So, I brought in the garbage can, brought in the mop and bucket, swept the floors, fixed Elijah his sausage, and then turned on the exercise show, and then the phone rang. It was my brother. He wanted me to call the telephone company and tell them to come out to look at their lines. To make a long story short, he lives in Mississippi and I live in Louisiana, so it’s only natural that he makes a long distance call to me to call AT&T to fix their lines when it’s easy to call himself. And while I’m at it he wants me to call Direct Television to find out when they are going to get local channels out there in the boonies where he lives. Sometimes it does not pay to (1) answer phones and (2) have relatives.

So of course I had to talk to my mother too, to tell her I saw her double on the bus. It was like looking in a mirror. Spooky. I hope that’s not a premonition.

So I’m actually exercising while I’m talking to them. And I’m dying in the process. My thighs and legs were hurting two minutes into the exercise but I stuck it out for the full ten minutes. I walk every day but I’ve never been able to do leg or ab exercises without being in pain. Well, you know the floors aren’t going to get mopped now unless they magically transform like in the animated version of Disney’s Cinderella and clean the floor themselves.

I didn’t even sweat…not one drop. To me it’s not accomplishing anything if you don’t sweat during exercise, and I probably would have chosen another show to do but it’s hard to exercise if your legs are out of commission. And it almost made me feel bad about eating dinner because I didn’t earn it…almost. I ate it, but I didn’t enjoy it. What good is eating vegetables if still have to take Beano and Maalox? I’m probably doing more harm by doing this than good. Acid reflux and indigestion sucks.

It’s eight o’clock, which mean I have only two hours to dedicate to editing my book tonight. I still have about four pages to type on my current WIP, but there’s no way I can get to that tonight.

The day wasn’t a total loss. I smelt night jasmines on my way to work. It brought back memories of being a young girl.

Imari Jade

Out with the Old/In with the New

2011-03-06T16:47:00.000-08:00

Out with the Old/In with the New

“Lessons in Buying New Clothes”

Imari Jade

The time to shop for new clothes isn’t when there’s a clearance sale or at Income Tax time. It’s when your grand-daughter tells you, “Maw Maw, cover up your belly. Ugh!”

Although Maw Maw is considered petite because of her height and frame, Maw Maw has an unnatural passion for bagels and Hershey’s Kisses and she hasn’t done aerobics in two years. She has a sit down job so now she has one of those Buddha bellies going on and she can pinch more than an inch at her waist. So the first step in buying new clothes is:

(1) Convincing oneself that you’re not going to get into those bikini hugging jeans in your closet even if someone greases your ass with butter.

(2) Remove all temptation from the closet – Hidden 3 Musketeers, Almond Joys and Kit Kat Bars. This also includes clothes you haven’t worn in a year because you can’t button, zip or squeeze into them without your friends talking about you. Fold the clothes you plan to give away in a neat pile and toss anything torn, stained or missing a button away. I tossed a brand new blouse into the trash bag because I couldn’t figure out how to put it on. (Don’t ask it had strings and a halter and I just gave up.)

(3) Remove everything in your closet that’s not yours. Grandchildren, their toys and clothes, and ex-boyfriend’s stuff. You don’t need any reminders of past, bad decisions or judgments staring at you in the face every time you open the closet.

(4) Turn on some music – It will make the task go faster and give you an excuse to dance and exercise. You don’t have to worry about any one seeing you because kids are never around when there’s work to be done.

(5) Get rid of unnecessary shoes – If it didn’t fit when you bought them and you haven’t worn them ever, get rid of them. I have this bad habit of ordering shoes and clothes over the Internet. If I order a 7 ½ it will arrive with a 7 ½ tag but they’ll either fit like a six or an 8, so what good are they? Toss the crap out or give them to someone who really likes wearing heels (which I don’t.)

(6) Don’t answer the phone – This is the second biggest distracter next to kids. I talked to my sister for three hours yesterday and now she’s calling from Winn Dixie where she is grocery shopping. I already know that everything is expensive. Either buy it or leave it. It’s not a hard choice. We got off the phone three hours later. Since then I’ve talked to my brother, my daughter-in-law and one of my sons.

(7) Use other closets as a place to put out of season clothes. This might have worked but when I opened the closet I found a huge speaker and a baby stroller. The babies now walk better than I do. When the nest empties they should take everything they own with them. Maybe I should charge a storage fee since the closets and garage are still overflowing with their things.

(8) Watch DBKS’s Mirotic video. There’s nothing like seeing nice abs and pretty faces to give you energy and motivation. Set a goal. I’m going to get rid of this belly fat before I meet them.

(9) Clean everything off the top shelves of the closet and move boxes to the top shelf. Don’t just pile boxes on top of the stuff that’s already there because it’s just going to fall on your head when you open the closet.

(10) Get rid of cassette and 8-Track tapes or convert them to CDs – This fad is not coming back.

It is now 6pm and I’ve finally stopped trying to clean the closet. I ended up putting the bag of clothes I took out of the closet back in the closet because I don’t have anything to do with them at the moment. Maybe they might make it out to the garage or to the Salvation Army in a couple of days…probably not. But I’m getting new clothes anyway because I don’t want to hear, “Maw Maw cover up your belly” ever again.

My brand new television set is messing up and I don’t have On-Demand. Of course I have a call into the cable company. Surprising enough I’m really not too upset since I have YouTube.

Imari Jade

Sexed up Great-Grandmothers - Rated R

2011-03-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

Sexed up Great Grandmothers

Imari Jade

Yes, the title does come with a story, but I have to set it up first. Happy March 1, 2011 everyone.

Today’s blog has an R rating. So if you’re easily offended please stop here.

I left work early so I could go buy my bus passes for the month and like most of my life nothing goes as planned. I had to go get the money out of the ATM machine and of course, it was broken, so I had to use another machine and pay a fee. I’m not bitching about the dollar fee, but doing so made me miss the bus I was supposed to catch. So I had to wait on another bus for 25 minutes on the first hottest day in March, carrying a coat because it was in the 50’s when I left home this morning. And wouldn’t you know it I had on something black again today and it felt like the sun was only beaming on me and no one else.

Here’s the deal. I live in one parish in Louisiana and work in another. This means I need two different types of public transit passes. You would think they would sell them at some midpoint, but no. So first I had to ride the Saint Claude bus up to Canal Street, get off, and walk two blocks to Walgreens to buy the bus pass for New Orleans. I had to wait for the cashier to call a manager to bring one up to the registers. Neither woman was very friendly. Neither one of them smiled and I felt like I was bothering the cashier but she had no problem taking my $55.00 for the pass. The entire transaction took about five minutes but it felt like a life time.

I left Walgreens and walked back two blocks to the Westbank bus stop. I hopped on a Terrytown bus, traveled across the Mississippi River and got off at the bus terminal to buy the second pass. It was so hot in that office I wonder how that cashier could sit in there, but I guess you can put up with anything when you need a job. This also took about two minutes and the cashier was on her cell phone talking to someone and she never got off the phone, she just took my $60.00 and gave me my pass. I left out of the door, looked at my watch, it was 4:30.

I seen the outbound Westbank Expressway bus leave at this time, which meant another one should have been pulling in the terminal going inbound, which was the bus I needed. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and a lot of busses came and left but no Westbank Expressway. These two little old ladies walked up and started talking to me. I don’t know I think I have one of those faces that says, please come up and talk to me because I don’t know why but people seem to talk to me wherever I go. I didn’t want to appear rude so I spoke back to them.

One of the ladies sat down on the cement bench next to me while the other one stood and continued to talk. The conversation began with her telling me that both of them were Creole and that she was born in Thibodeaux and lived on a plantation. The conversation should have ended there, (it would have if my mother had been with me) and it really should have ended when she told me that she remembered slavery. Black history month just yesterday and I wondered why she decided to talk to me about her heritage. It didn’t seem to matter that I was an African American female and I might be insulted by her talking about sugar cane and watching the slaves worked the fields, but I wasn’t born in that generation, never been a slave and didn’t feel that I had to comment since it didn’t really bother me. So she continued talking. It didn’t take me long to figure out the one next to me was nearly deaf. The standing woman had to ask her a question three times before she answered. Well, the standing one told me she was 89 years old, opened her jacket to show me her slim and trim physique. I complimented on how good she looked and she proceeded to tell me that both of them lived in a retirement home close to where I live and how she hated it because the women were a bunch of gossips.

Somewhere in the conversation we began discussing our kids and she told me she didn’t think I was old enough to have kids. She told me she thought I looked sixteen. I took the compliment but assured her that I have grandchildren. Then I wondered why she would be having a grown up conversation with me if she thought I was a kid.

I don’t know how we got on the conversation about crime and then she told me everything from how her grandchild was molested, how she got mugged and then she started talking about she didn’t like the way the way the young men wore their pants riding down on their behinds. When I tell you there wasn’t a subject we didn’t discuss during this time and then all of a sudden she began to talk about her deceased husband and how he cheated on her and came home with “crabs”. He left her for another woman who lived around the corner for them and they hung out in a neighborhood bar. Apparently she went to the bar and started kissing on some man to make her husband jealous and he got mad. She told me that this other guy was a good kisser, but she wasn’t a flirt. And of course I’m laughing as she telling it to me because I’m figuring she must have been quite a hoot as a young woman. She told me that every time she walked past the cemetery she told him “thank you for the check” (she was referring to his social security check that she now collects) and that’s one of the reasons she was at the bus stop with me was because she had just come from shopping.

Next she started telling dirty jokes. What kinds of foods does a priest like to eat? Answer: Nun. Why is there a gate around a cemetery? Answer: Because people are dying to get in. There was another one about a man telling her how long his penis was. She asked him if it could touch his butt and he told her yes, so she said, “I told him then go f__k yourself.” I could have died at that moment.

Okay, so I’m appalled and laughing at the same time with this old woman.

Then she gets on the subject about going to church and the hypocrites that are in the church with her. She has a problem with how many times they pass the collection plate, especially since she ran into her priest and two nuns in a casino in Mississippi. I told her they were probably putting her money to good use. That got a laugh out of her.

You might have noticed that we talked about quite a few things. We didn’t have anything better to do since the bus was an hour late. When it finally arrived they got on first and I was one of the last to board. The bus was packed with riders. The standing woman patted her lap and wanted to know if I wanted to sit down on it. “No, I’m cool,” I told her as I walked to the back of the bus where I found an available seat. That kind of ended my conversation with them. Ah, senior citizens. You have to love them.

I had just enough time to turn my MP3 player back on before some woman set next to me and crushed me half to death. Ladies, if you butt if bigger than the average sized bus seat down try to squeeze into it.

As you can tell this blog is about characterization and I had a couple of winners today. I could probably use her in a story and might one of these days. Some of my old teaching came back to me. Listen to the people around you. This afternoon I got an earful.

Imari Jade

Adventure in Friday Evening Bus Riding

2011-02-25T19:16:00.000-08:00

ADVENTURE IN FRIDAY EVEVING BUS RIDING

THE CRAP YOU HAVE TO PUT UP WITH IF YOU DON’T DRIVE

I’m all decked out in vampire slayer black on one of the hottest February days in New Orleans, and of course the sun is bearing down on me while I stand at the bus stop. It’s 4:35 and the bus is scheduled to arrive at 4:40. The sun I can deal with. The old geezers ogling me while I stand at the bus stop, no!

There is always a group of people congregating on this corner. Every now and then I see a female, but most of the time its men. Some of them I suspect are retired and have nothing better to do, but the rest are unemployed, disabled or just lazy. This afternoon all of them are drinking beer and the youngest in the group must be about 40. A couple of them have walked past me once or twice, smile and then go back and sit down on the seat on the side of the building where I’m standing. And even though I’m wearing dark sunglass I’m not blind so I do see one peeping at me from around the corner. Needless to say I want to bus to arrive on time. Yippee here comes the bus.

Its parade season here in New Orleans and it’s a Friday evening which means there are probably three or four parades scheduled to roll. This also means I’m going to catch hell trying to make it home from the east bank of the Mississippi River where I work to the west bank where I live. I have to ride two buses. So we make it to Canal Street and I get off the first bus and walk a block to the second bus stop. First of all they are filming a movie on this street and they have turned off the traffic lights and they are blanking red in four directions. I have to get across this street without getting hit. Luckily they have stopped the traffic coming from the left. So I make it across the street and hope the second bus will be able to get through. There are a lot of people milling about and police directing traffic. It would be much easier to just close off the streets and re-direct the rush hour traffic, but no, they want to do things the hard way.

The bus arrives and we board. The police have stopped the bus until after a scene is shot. Well, that’s good for the director and the actors but I am ready to go home. After holding us for about fifteen minutes they finally move one of the police cars and the bus turns the corner. Of course I look out the window to see if I recognize any of the actors. No, they are all dressed in black trench coats and it looks like either it’s a gangster movie or a vampire flick. In my head I’m wishing that the sun is burning up their behinds like it did me since we were all foolish enough to wear sun-absorbing black today.

So now we finally get on our way and I pull out my reading glasses and my book, but actually I’m concentrating on the two guys who are probably going to be staring in my next book. Let me set the scene, or introduce the characters. I have been riding the bus with this one guy for a couple of weeks now and have actually had a conversation with him. Even though it seems that I’m reading I am totally aware of what’s going on around me on the bus. He always manages to sit on the same side of the bus I do, maybe a seat or two away. And every now and then he sits across the aisle from me. Occasionally I catch him staring at me. Maybe it could be my imagination. He’s not exactly the kind of man I’m usually interested in. He’s tall, blond, has green eyes and has an average size build. He’s not hero handsome but he has an okay face. I guess his age to be in his later 30s or early 40s.

Character number two – I’ve also been noticing this young guy every evening. His blond, thin to the point of anorexia, but not a bum or a street urchin. He’s usually dressed like he works in an office, and he can’t be any older than 20. I would say 18 but I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. The first thing I think when I saw him was that he’s would be a perfect semi character (Semi is the more feminine male character in a manga), because of his lithe build. I never noticed him on the bus with us before, but two days ago he gets on with the other blond and of course my imagination just went wild. They sit next to each other and then I begin to wonder if they are gay. The two of them get off the bus together and I think if they’re not gay they could possibly be related because of their hair color, but my instincts tell me that this is not the case. Yesterday morning the older one gets on the bus, but I don’t see the thin one (at first). Then I see him crossing the street and walking back in the other direction like he walked the older one to the bus stop to see him off to work. So if he’s gay, then why is he staring at me, I wonder. Maybe bi-curious?

So today, I notice a third blond. This one is in his twenties too, but more stockier and attractive than the other two. He’s carrying backpack and he’s sitting next to the other two on the bus. A possible ménage? Maybe! Or maybe he’s just a friend who lives in the neighborhood.

A young black woman walks past them to get off the bus and I notice that the older one is checking her out. A young Hispanic woman gets up and walks past him and he doesn’t give her the time of day. Hum, gay, bi-curious and he has jungle fever. Okay, I can work with this.

I forget about them for a minute and the bus turns on Poydras where we run into obstacle number 2. There are police officers and food vendors everywhere, setting up for the six o’clock parade. Oh gawd, let me get across the river before all this stuff start rolling. Traffic comes to a halt. Fifteen minutes later we turn on Convention Center and I’m praying that they are not moving the floats out of the barn and blocking up the streets. Fortunately, this does not happen and we make it to the bridge. We run into obstacle number 3, the same scenario on the west bank side of the river…another parade. We only sit in traffic about five minutes while they block off the entrance to the interstate ramp.

My suspicions are confirmed. The three blonds get off at the same stop and walk away together.

Now there are some other things going on aboard the bus. It is crowded with Hispanic and Haitian women who work in the Central Business District. And believe it or not, I can hear them talking rapidly and loudly while I’m trying to read and trying to listen to my MP3 player. I have the volume up so loud that it’s hurting my right ear, but I don’t lower the volume because JYJ is singing, “Be the One,” and the song is too good to turn down.

I must note here that I haven’t seen stinky cutie in a couple of days. Maybe he’s given up bus riding or he has his car fixed. I still can’t believe I’m still looking for him every day. Maybe I have a death wish. For those of you who don’t know who this is, he’s this really cute Korean guy that I noticed about a week ago, but he had B.O. which is a total turn off for me. I mentioned him in my blog last week so if you want to learn more you have to check out that blog entry (Every Man is not a Hero).

It is about 6:30 when I finally get off the bus, walk the three or four blocks to my front door. I open the door and hear “Maw Maw,” above the MP3 player song I’m listening to. Its number one grandson and his baby girl from hell sister (Loving known as Adrian and Autumn). I haven’t seen them in a couple days and they are there with their father who is putting together the new television stand and television. Autumn is entertaining me with tales of McDonald’s chicken nuggets she just ate and hadn’t saved for me. She makes up by giving me a plastic muffin from her tea set. In return I got the honor of giving her a Popsicle.

The mini monsters start arguing over the desk top computer. He wants to play games on Nicholodean and she wants to see the Willow Smith’s video on YouTube. Finally their father takes them home fifteen minutes later. I jump into the shower, fix myself something to eat and sit down to Twitter.

A new Korean girl group, Bella is rocking EnVogue’s, “Don’t Let Go.” I don’t usually listen to the girl groups, but I can give mad props to them for this song, and for the fact that they are balancing themselves on some stellar high spiked shoes and boots. And then finally Super Junior M, has a new mini-album. Well, looks like I’ll be investing some of my hard earned cash in two new CDs. Now it’s time for me to write.

Chat with you later.

Imari Jade

Not Every Man's a Hero

2011-02-17T18:18:00.000-08:00

Not Every Man’s a Hero

Imari Jade

It’s no secret that I have this thing for pretty Asian guys and my chance of finding one in Marrero (or so I thought) was slim to none. Even though we have a Korean church in walking distance from my home, I’ve never seen one. But two days ago this gorgeous Korean guy boarded the bus when I was on my way to work and my eyes automatically moved from the passage I was reading in the novel to him. Hmmm, he’s slim, but he’s not tall and he doesn’t have a butt. But his jeans were riding low on his hips and the shoulder-length black hair and bangs was a plus in his favor so I thought I could forgive the fact that he’s not six feet tall and have a bodacious booty. Not perfect, my devious little mind calculated but workable.

He didn’t sit next to me but instead chose a seat across the aisle and a row behind, but I could see him move out of the corner of my eye. So I settled back into my seat and got back to reading while we crossed the Mississippi River Bridge into New Orleans. The guy gets off the bus on Poydras Avenue, which is the central business district which means he’s either about to transfer to another bus, working in the area or going to court. By the way he’s dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt I’m thinking he’s probably a laborer, not that that’s a bad thing. But I am looking for someone to wine and dine me now and not the other way around.

Later that evening I look for him on the way home. If he works an eight hour job he should board the same bus I do to go home, since it’s the last bus going over the river. But he didn’t get on.

Fast forward to yesterday morning. I got on the bus and a lady in front of me smelt like she took a bath in cologne. And not the good stuff…the old lady stuff that automatically sets off my allergies and I cough until I dug a cough drop out of my book bag. So I got as comfortable as I could get and the bus pulls off and we head toward Harvey where the guy got on yesterday. Alas, he didn’t get on at his stop so I figured his riding was just a one ride fluke. Maybe his car broke down and that’s why he had to ride the bus.

So we arrive at the terminal several minutes later and a lot of other people boarded. A guy sits next to me but I don’t see his face because mine is buried in a book. Then something catches my attention. Out of the corner of my right eye I see this long jet black hair. It’s him. I try not to seem too excited and just go on reading and listening to my MP3 player. The bus moves from the terminal and into traffic and then it hits me…a smell. Him. He stinks. Oh my gawd. He smells like he hasn’t had a bath and like he’s been drinking all night. Why me? He gets on his cell phone and I can smell his bad breath. Okay so now I really can’t breathe between him and the lady with the cologne. I try to discretely cover my nose, but that doesn’t work, so I try to shift my body to the left and pretend everything is okay. But there’s nothing I can do because there isn’t another empty seat and we’re about to cross the Mississippi River Bridge again. So I just had to bear it. Lucky for me he gets off at Poydras again.

When I get to work I tell my co-worker Tracee about my experience and she just laughs. I have to agree it was hilarious. At lunch I talked it over with another friend of mine and he says that not all countries have the same standards of bathing as we do in the United States. True, but ass is not in the another country, he’s in the US and sitting next to me on the bus. I have to admit, I set my standards way high when it comes to men, and let’s face it no one is going to come close to those three gorgeous Koreans I have lost my heart to (JYJ), but why put such a temptation in front of me? Believe it or not, I look for him on the way home but he doesn’t get on the bus.

I tried to find a rationale for my fascination with this guy and try to find excuses for his deplorable shape. I think maybe he works at night and he was just getting in and hadn’t have time to change. Or maybe he could be homeless, and I think it cost $2.00 to ride that bus and I’d seen him twice and if I was homeless I wouldn’t be wasting money on a bus.

The cougar in me still thought he was cute beneath all that stank. Maybe I could take him home and scrub him up, I reasoned. That’s what one of my heroines would do in a story. No, even I have my limits and I don’t pick up stray men or dogs on the street and I’m not about to start just because all that black silky hair has caught my attention. I’d probably have to delouse him too just to get to that hair. He has leading man potential, but I’m not willing to work that hard to uncover that diamond in the rough.

Funny thing happened last night. There was an article on the Internet about Micky and his younger brother. Someone asked the younger brother to talk about Micky’s bad points, and the first thing he said was that Micky liked to clean and would fuss at him for leaving a cup on the table. He said his brother was more feminine than he was and was interested in fashion. I started to laugh. Believe me little brother, it could be worse, he could not take a bath. I’d gladly swap stinky cutie, as I named the guy on the bus for his big brother, who by the way I still feel is husband material and the object of many of my dreams at night. If I’m going cast a hero, it would be him.

Imari Jade

Chilling

2011-02-13T17:54:00.000-08:00

Flower Lady Song

Chilling

Imari Jade

I spent a splendidly wonderful day writing even though I’m suffering from a bad back ache and a wicked foot wound caused by an over-zealous young woman giving me a pedicure. Running on about three hours of sleep my eyes opened at seven and refused to close. “But its Sunday,” I protested.

“Get your lazy butt out of bed and get creative,” was their response.

So I rubbed down with Aspercreme, took two Tylenol and got dressed.

The first thing I did was turn on my computer. It struggled to life, which meant there was a problem but a few minutes later I was able to access Twitter. Micky Yoochun was chatting today, but it is Korean. Pooh. English baby. Mama needs English. Oh, well, I surfed, catching up on my J&K Pop friends and then meandered my way over to Facebook and friended a couple of folks and wished a few others Happy Birthday. Nothing exciting happening there, so I decided to do some editing on the five manuscripts I’m juggling at the moment. Then the computer froze.

After cursing it out for freezing right in the middle of something I was typing (and I hadn’t saved), I got myself out of the program and shut down the computer. It restarted slowly. The computer expert in me told me that it was a virus. Bingo, I found the little bugger once I ran the virus scan. I logged back in and had to retype what I was previously working on.

Somewhere after breakfast I decided to take out my CD player and my Pandigital Reader. Lately I’ve been overrun by electronics. My kids gave me the CD player two Christmases ago and this was the first time I took it out of the box. Normally I played my CDs in my DVD payer but lately it’s been acting up, probably because I shouldn’t be playing CDs in it. So after figuring out how to work it I slipped in my Beyonce CD and got empowered. Then I went back to work for a couple of hours.

The Pandigital E-reader was a different story. It has been in my possession a little over a week and so far it has not performed up to my expectation. Basically it’s a piece of garbage and it’s going back to Best Buy in a couple of days. It took four days to charge and it took two days for it to accept my Barnes and Noble password and login. And I still haven’t been able to download the Nook Book I ordered from Barnes and Noble earlier today. It is history if it doesn’t work tomorrow.

So right now I got DBSK blasting in the room while I’m waiting for the Grammys. It better be good this year or I might stop watching. I already know my boys JYJ won’t be there. They’re still in Korea probably freezing. They should be there accepting all the awards for their fabulous album. It would make my night to finally see them perform on television. Lately I’ve been going blind watching their performances on YouTube and other computer shows. It just doesn’t do my six-feet babies justice. Okay, I’m through salivating. I’m just waiting for the CD to end. Then it’s into the shower and I need to eat dinner before I relax for the evening. But first I need to check my email.

Someone joined me to their writers group and it’s been blowing up my mailbox all morning. I think I have then turned off of Facebook before Yahoo takes away my account, which will be bad since I’m waiting to hear from some publishers.

Just a friendly reminder, “Someone to be Thankful for” is being released tomorrow on audio book from Total Ebound.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1136

It’s a very good story and I’m not just saying it because I wrote it.

Ooh, DBSK is singing “Flower Lady.” I just love that song. Boy I can’t wait until they stop this silly dispute and get back together again. I hope they do it before I visit Korea. This would make the trip totally worth it. Well, surviving the twenty-five hour ride will also make it totally worth it. More later.

Imari Jade

What to Do on a Cold Rainy Day

2011-02-03T15:52:00.000-08:00

What to Do on a Cold Rainy Day

Imari Jade

I’m sitting here waiting to call into work. It’s not something I normally do. I debated for quite a while as I lay in bed listening to the rain fall about five this morning. It’s really cold in New Orleans today and the weather is expected to get colder and rainier with sleet.

First of all, I don’t drive. This means I have to ride the bus to work…two buses to be exact. This usually takes about two hours so I have to get up with the roosters. I don’t mind the ride, it’s the walk to the bus stop when it’s pitch black outside that’s spooky. I put my life in the Lord’s hands most mornings and hope he’ll get me to work and home safely. He hasn’t failed me yet. Yesterday evening I stood in 30 degree temperatures and the bus was twenty minutes late because of heavy traffic. I can accept this but it still pissed me off. This morning I’m reaping the rewards, my back is hurting and I’m walking around like Quasimodo. So I decided to not be stupid and try to go outside on the icy cold sidewalks where I might slip.

People who know me know that my mind is trying to talk me out of staying home. I don’t know why I feel like I have to go to work every day. It’s not like the world is going to end if I don’t go in. My mind is just programmed to just get dressed and go in. I’ve gone to work so sick I can barely walk or breathe. This year I promised myself this was not going to happen because that job will be there even if I’m dead and gone.

So how did I start the day? How else? On Yahoo. I just need to clean out my email boxes a couple of times a day. This morning a publisher confirmed that she received my manuscript, and I found two new promo opportunities. I’m also watching the news and weather. It might be cold here, but luckily we’re not buried under snow.

Next I visited Twitter and Facebook. Not much going on there. So I pulled out my scissors and coupons. It’s time to clean out all the January coupons that have expired and cut out the new ones. This is the best time to do it since the grandchildren are not here trying to help me. That is an experience a couponer does not want to go through. Usually they have coupons flying everywhere and they argue over the baby scissors.

Okay, so I made the phone call. My back is still hurting so I think it’s time to fix breakfast so I can take arthritis medicine.

Justin Bieber is supposed to be on Regis and Kelly this morning. Finally I’m going to see what the fuss is all about.

Breakfast is finally ready. I’ve taken my arthritis medicine, my allergy medicine and my high blood pressure medicine. While I was waiting for breakfast I finished up with the coupons, put last night’s wash away and tossed towels into the washer. Why are I doing this since I’m obviously in pain? Well, if the back goes out completely I won’t be able to do anything including lift my legs so it’s best to get things out of the way. I just walked back into my bedroom and there’s a kid on the news who has been volunteering at the local SPCA. He has a snake with him. Time to turn the channel. Imari does not do snakes.

The big thing I need to accomplish today is to retype a novella. The reason I have to retype it is because my son borrowed my precious red flash drive and for some reason everything on it is now missing. I thought I had most of it backed up on an external drive but I haven’t been able to find most of the stuff. Luckily I always print out a copy of everything. Speaking of which, I need to order a new external drive today. Now if I can only remember where I put the folder with the manuscript. It was in my file cabinet but I took it out the other day and I think it’s on my desk. It’s a known fact if it goes on my desk it gets lost. Found it. It was inside the desk file. Okay the boy with the snake is gone and I can resume watching the morning news. Before I begin typing this monster I’m going to check all of my flashes and drives just to make sure. No such luck. I love my son like a play step cousin but it he touches my flash drives again I might have to punish him. Wait. Good thing my brain is still functioning. I found the manuscript in my sent file. Good I don’t have to retype it.

Justin Bieber just finished on Regis and Kelly. I hope I'm spelling his name right. Hmmm, no sweaty palms, no palpating heart, no wet panties. Nope, not cougar material. He’s cute but I’ll leave him for the tweens. JYJ’s position is still number one in my heart.

Oh gawd my stomach is dying. Why do doctors prescribe stuff that make you feel worse than the original ailment? So I’m lying flat on my back typing to work on the proposal.

I snuck over to Total E-Bound. Just found out that “Something to be Thankful for” is going to be released on audio tape on Valentine’s Day and the book is going to be released on February 28, 2011. More on that in a future blog.

Just submitted new M/M novel to publisher. Boy, that was easy.

I have three things I know I have to work on for March submission …2 short stories and 1 novel. I have one of the short stories outlined (and then I deleted it because it sucked, so I started on another one), the second short story I need to think about and the novel, well, I have all the ingredients, I just need to get my butt in gear because submission date is just three weeks away.

Did I mention that one of my sons brought me a Nook for Christmas? It’s still sitting in a box. I did order a cover because my Nook is naked. It should be arriving Monday. Okay, the Nook is on my bed now and I think I need to open the box and at least charge it up. Okay, Nook is in the charger. Needs to charge for 4 hours. Number three son is up. He doesn’t look surprised to see me home. Next task.

My MP3 player is on the fritz. It just saying Initializing. It was doing this yesterday but the screen won’t clear. Might as well add a new MP3 player to the list. Found the external drive and MP3 player. Took the external drive out of my cart after reading reviews. (Remember: Just because it’s on sale or has a coupon doesn’t mean it’s a good thing. Always read the reviews). Just ordered the MP3 player. I had a $25.00 store credit because they lost the television I ordered at Christmas time. (Don’t ask). I’m buying a new television tomorrow.

Got some promotions done. Now I have to see if I have a book to submit for the Stroke of Midnight Contest. Got the story but too lazy to write the synopsis. So I tossed it aside and started working on the short story. Midway in between writing I decided to watch episodes 24-26 of Ouran High School Host Club. Damn, things were just getting good and it ended. I still have part three of Vampire Knights to watch, but I wanted to watch parts one and two again since it’s been nearly two years since I saw them.

Towels have washed dried and been put up. Dinner is finished and it’s four-thirty in the evening. One of my sons and his wife stopped by and brought me some tennis shoes. I’ve been complaining and limping on a callous for several years now. I won’t go away and I’ve having the hardest time walking in shoes. So hopefully the tennis will make a difference. It’s time for me to check in on Twitter and Facebook. Jaejoong has tweeted pictures of his dog and two birds. Cute. I would like to see more pictures of him.

Came up with another premise for a historical novel. I think I’ll work on this one and forget about the call for submission novel for March. See how quickly I can change my mind. People often wonder where writers get their ideas. Mine just pop into my head. After today I figured out that I could possibly work as a fulltime writer. I don’t know if I could make enough money to pay my house note, but at least I know if I get furloughed or fired from my job I do have something to fall back on.

There’s nothing exciting on Twitter at the moment but some ass tried to hack my Facebook account. People get a life. I need to take out the garbage. It is so cold outside and I have to go to work in that tomorrow. So this is how I spent my day. Back to work tomorrow. That is, if I can stand up.

All GoodThings Must Come to an End

2011-01-19T18:56:00.001-08:00

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Imari Jade

I wrote four whole pages yesterday while I was at lunch. Not bad for thirty minutes. But when I got home I put a big X through all the pages because what I wrote didn’t make sense, even to me. So I knew it wouldn’t make sense to my readers. It was a pivotal love scene and it didn’t slide into transition easy enough and it just got pretty stupid.

It was in the heroine’s Point of View, so I tried to rewrite it in the hero’s POV and it still didn’t read right. So I just tossed the tablet aside and went on to something else (Watching pretty Asian boy bands on Twitter). Like fine wine and cheese some things just have to age to get better.

Woke up this morning and was watching the early morning news before leaving for work. I heard a “pop” and a “sizzle” and looked to my left only to discover that my television had died. I unplugged everything to make sure no fire would start and then I went to work. The first thing I thought about as I walked to the bus stop was, how am I going to get to sleep tonight without a television?The last time this happened was about fourteen years ago and I had to plug in a sound machine so I could have noise to lull me to sleep. Tonight it will probably be my MP3 player. But let’s back this story about the television up and start from the beginning.

On December 17, 2010 I ordered a television from Florida and paid for three day shipping. By December 21, the television hadn’t arrived so I checked the tracking and it was in Texas. I checked the UPS site and it had the same thing. On December 26, 2010 I called the company where I ordered the television from and was told that the last thing they had on it was that it was in Texas on December 21, 2010 and nothing else. I was told that either it had been stolen or lost in transit. Okay I was pretty cool about it. I asked her were they going to get any more in stock. She told me, yes. So I told her to just ship me out another one when the shipment came in because I didn’t want a refund and I wanted the television at the same price. She told me, okay. Note: I ordered it from Florida and the last place it went was to Texas. I live in Louisiana and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that UPS never stopped in Louisiana with it.

I couple of days later I got an email that they had done an investigation and that I would hear from them soon. I did hear from then. They returned my money. I checked the site and the television was back in stock but now it cost $300.00 more and the shipping was more expensive. Apparently they thought I wanted that television bad enough to pay that price for it. They were so wrong. What happened to good old customer service? I think it has come to an end. They did give me a $25 gift certificate which I plan to use before the 90 days expires.

My grandson spent a night with us on Monday night so he came into my room and I turned the Cartoon Network on for him to watch Family Guy before he went to bed. He asked me, “Maw Maw, what is wrong with your television?” The people were all red and splotchy. I told him, “Maw Maw needs a new television.” He politely told me that he was going back in the den to watch television with his father. “You’re not hurting my feelings, little boy,” I told him. “I got to get up at five in the morning, anyway.” Apparently television is more important to him that I am.

So now I’m back to square one…an unfinished story and no television. Of course I can cry like a big baby and ask why everything happens to me. But I was never one to sit around and wallow in sorrow. My objective is to rethink the scene of the story. I think I’m having problems with it because my mind is trying to come up with a creative way to describe the sex scene and make it interesting. I thought about just ignoring this scene all together. The story is about voyeurism and I just had a scene where the couple was watching another couple get busy and this turned them on so naturally they had to get busy. How do you follow one great sex scene up with another one? Is it possible?

I was outside talking it over with an editor friend of mine and he was laughing at my crazy behind as usual. I’m telling him I have the characters in the bedroom and it’s so boring. He told me that making these characters have sex in the bedroom is so normal, and he knows I don’t do normal. So now I have to find some far out place to have them make love and to do this I have to back them out of the bedroom and get them to this other place. Now that I don’t have a television I probably have time to concentrate on it and get it right. I’m going back to the tablet. Chat with you later.

Imari Jade