Is this cute, or what?

Just Call Me A Sucker for Coffee Drink Extravaganzas!

What Does This Say About Me??

First, you need to know that I read the L.A. Times newspaper from cover to cover every day while eating lunch at the office. Very relaxing, very informative. Start with Part I (headline news stuff), then their new "breaking news" edition, followed by Business, Sports, and then Calendar (entertainment).

On Monday, I went through my daily routine, and when I got to the last page of Calendar (which is the TV guide), I paused at the description of that night's episode of The Bachelorette.

Um, huh? Hadn't I already seen this episode? Why would they be repeating it?

That was when I discovered I'd read a week-old newspaper I hadn't had time for the week before.

Shouldn't there have been an earlier clue??

Ah, Yes...Sunny Puerto Vallarta....

Writing? What's That?

Long-time blog readers know I'm one of those people who enjoys HAVING WRITTEN rather than, y'know...the actual process itself. Lately, though, I've been getting the itch again. Maybe 'cuz I got a comp copy in the mail with a story I wrote last year. Or maybe 'cuz I'm starting to get a teensy bit more free time, and I ain't doing nothing constructive with it! (Unless, of course, you count watching endless repeats of America's Next Top Model as a worthwhile endeavor, and hey--I could make the case, if pressed).

Then there's the whole RWA conference thing. MAN, I used to look forward to that every year. I'd come away all inspired and ready to bang out the next best seller--or, at the very least, the next DEBUT--every time. But this year?

Not so much.

Especially since it's in Or-friggin'-lando. Land of the kidlets and human cartoon characters. Do I really wanna spend a precious week of time in 200% humidity and screaming children?

Again. Not so much.

Meanwhile, though, I've been reading. Some pretty good stuff, too! (Although, puh-lease...shouldn't a famous author KNOW better than to include TWO THUNDERSTORMS--weeks apart--in a book set in HOLLYWOOD? HA! Those east coast people always get southern California wrong.

Anyway, so that's where I'm at right now, writing-wise. Mulling ideas over...wondering whether to go back to the WIP I was working on when Life so unceremoniously interrupted (or maybe ERUPTED is the more accurate term). Maybe something new.

Maybe nothing at all.

When does the new season of America's Top Model start...?

Father's Day

Hard to believe that this time last year, they were both still with us.

Welcome, Facebookers

Yes, I shamelessly sent my Facebook friends to my blog in order to answer the burning question: Did Randy Get Married?

HA!

You faithful blogreaders know better than that, right? No, the story's a bit more interesting. You see, that's my mother's wedding ring. My real mother--the one who died when I was nine. For some never-explained reason, my stepmom's been wearing it on her right hand for the past 40-something years. I never asked why. I mean, my father must've given it to her to wear, right? Was it an homage of some sort?

Anyway, Annie's hands have become too arthritic. It doesn't fit anymore. So during a conversation with sister-in-law Polly about jewlery, she suddenly disappeared into the bedroom, returning with The Ring. The one she'd probably planned to give me on the occasion I brought some nice young man home and announced my engagement.

Too bad it never happened, huh? Long wait!

According to Annie, the center diamond was my mom's engagement ring. The two smaller diamonds (not equal in size) on either side were from my grandmother's. (Maybe. I'm not sure she has that part of the story right.)

It fits better on my left hand, but don't worry. I'm not that stupid. When I'm out and about, I squeeze it onto my right lest I scare all those eligible bachelors away (although, yeah...I'm quite aware that married "cougars" are in hot demand).

Gee, ya think I need a manicure? Those nails aren't shaped that way--they're just so long, they're curving around. Hey, who has time for appointments? I'm too busy running the family business.

Only In Hidden Hills

Yes, my children. That's a golf cart in front of me, tooling along at the rate of one mile an hour as a miniature horse trots along on each side, tethered by a leash to the unseen occupants of the cart. Guess that's ONE way to exercise your animals....

Getting to Know Your Droid

Not sure I would've chosen "Droid" as the name for a phone. Just try putting a "hem" in front of it and you'll see what I mean.

Anyway, so naturally I haven't read the instructions. They might have come in handy when I tried taking pictures at the reunion last weekend. Oh, well. So what if they're a little yellow? Yellowed with age, I guess!
Me and Mike Miller (Class of '70)
Yvette Jespersen Robertson
Sean and Sally (Feeney) Conroy
Carol Copsey and Martha McGroarty
Carol Copsey, Jim Hagopian, Salley Powell
Anne Loftin, Melody Maddock

A Blur of Faces, Names...Shared Histories

As a service to those not on Facebook, I've shamelessly stolen photos to upload from last weekend's Agoura High School Reunion. Enjoy. (P.S. They're tiny--I guess because they're filched.)
Debi Williams, Randy Bruskrud
Gilbert Yablon, Carol Copsey, Jim Hagopian
John Votjek
Sally Feeny, Andi Horowitz
Melissa North, Tamy Hagy
Mr. Miller
Ann Loftin, Melody Maddock
Jim Hagopian, Sally Feeny
Martha McGroarty
Yvette Jespersen
Bonnie Chorney, Cathy Reuter, Cyndi Modlin, Sally Feeny, Tina Greggs, Melissa North
Jeff Chamberlain, Georgeann Nichol, Cyndi Modlin
Randy Bruskrud, Mike Miller

New Post, New Blog

Yeah, for someone who's posting infrequently at best, you may be wondering why I've created yet another blog.

It's the economy, stupid.

(Ha. A little crack at Hillary.)

Anyway, so Engineer Matt and I were discussing ways to drive more traffic to the company website, and you know me. The only thing I know how to do is create a blog. So, voila.

Besides, Matt knows more about the tech side of stuff than I. In fact, he can actually write about it. (Which he plans to do in the very near future.)

Not sure if he's posted yet, but check it out anyway. Click this link here.

Doesn't It Figure?

So after all of last year's traveling woes...cancellation upon cancellation...dollar upon dollar lost...I figured it was safe to come out and play again. Made a reservation for the upcoming RWA conference in July.

Um...maybe I'm some sort of curse??

Click here to see what I mean.

Random Thoughts on My Current TV Viewing Habits

Survivor is having its BEST SEASON EVER. Russell and Parvati have executed maneuvers you'd have to see to believe.

I can watch a marathon of America's Next Top Model even though I've seen the whole damn season six times before.

Two And A Half Men and The New Adventures of Old Christine make good sleeping pills. (Don't know why, cuz I actually enjoy both shows.)

DVR is everything people kept telling me it was.

Chelsea Lately (aka Chelsea Handler) gets away with saying stuff NO ONE else says on TV. (P.S. For some reason, her relationship with Chuy kinda gives me the creeps.)

The Housewives of (fill in the city here) are ample proof that money doesn't buy happiness...or class (I'm looking at YOU, Countess)...and that age and maturity don't necessarily go hand-in-hand.

Dancing With The Stars has a pacing problem. Can't watch.

American Idol still grabs me, although it's lacking the wow factor this year.

Desperate Housewives gets better and better.

Sad but true. I need Tiger in my televised golf tournaments.

TMZ's Harry Levin hit gold with his creation, but for some reason I wouldn't be surprised to see him show up as the unwitting participant on To Catch A Predator.

I could watch Bravo 24/7, reruns and all. (Does this make me gay??)

Project Runway was better before it went to Lifetime.

HBO has given up its "original series" dominance to Showtime.

Must. Get. Showtime. (So I can watch the Altered States of Tara more often.)

Of all the reality shows, I think I'd do best on Big Brother but Amazing Race looks like a lot more fun.

Those Jersey people should be put out of OUR misery.

Another Life Goes On Post

Hard to believe some people still check my blog every day, especially since I've been less-than-prolific of late. Once in awhile, I even get a call or an email asking how I'm doing because the blog had always been a source of info up until last summer.

Anyway, so yeah. Here it is. I'm alive and well, and...oh, wow...just checked the calendar, and tomorrow it will have been EIGHT WEEKS since my surgery. Seems like only yesterday...

When last checked, my right lung still wasn't 100%. Maybe that's why I don't feel any different from the way I felt pre-surgery. No more energy, no less. Well, sometimes less but I suppose that's just because they cut me open, put me on the heart-lung bypass machine, and...y'know...did all manner of unkind things to my body. Still...I'm jealous of the people on the valve forum who report they "haven't felt this good in years." Or, maybe I'm being greedy? Today I had an echocardiogram. Hopefully, the results will show lots of good stuff.

This past weekend, I went to Vegas (yay!) and was shocked when a minimal jaunt between the Flamingo and Harrah's resulted in aching thighs and calves. And, NO--I wasn't in my customary 4-inch heels--this was in FLATS. {Shudder} I'm TOTALLY out-of-shape, it appears.

So a new commitment to my ever-lovin' treadmill--which, by the way--now resides in my extra bedroom where there's no TV. I'm forced to listen to music on my computer. Yesterday, I walked for five songs worth.

It's still difficult to schedule things since I try to spend as much time with Annie as possible. I hate to think of her being alone, yet I'm not willing to give up my independence entirely.

Meanwhile, life goes on. I've booked a trip to Nashville for the annual romance writers' conference even though I'm not writing at all. Maybe it'll get me fired up again, who knows? In any event, it's always a good excuse to see a part of the US I've never been to. Plus, I get to pal around with old friends Brooke and Elizabeth, so I'm looking forward to it.

There's still so much in my head that I could go on and on about--plenty of fodder for the blog, you might say--but it feels too personal. Hell, I don't confide most of my thoughts aloud to my friends and family, so why would I do it here?

Yet, despite how this entry is probably coming off, be assured I've held on to my positive attitude. I mean, what else can I do, really?

Life didn't make any promises...and I learned at a young age...ya gotta roll with the punches.

Ow.

In Writing News...

Yes, faithful blog readers...remember when I used to fancy myself a writer...??

Well, the last thing I wrote before my whole world went to hell was a story for True Romance. In fact, I submitted it on April 29, 2009 --which I happen to know because I checked my "sent" file.

After that, nada.

Not even on my book-length project which, when last mentioned, was the recipient of a 3-chapter critique from Jessica Faust at Bookends Literary.

Flash forward. And I mean FORWARD...Crap, almost a year!

This week I received both a contract for the True Romance story AND Jessica's critique. Uh, I guess you can chalk this up to the good news/bad news category. Yay about the contract, but Ms. Faust's critique was less-than-stellar. She said that overall my writing was good but that she didn't think I was executing things in the way I should (I'm paraphrasing.) And she TOTALLY misinterpreted my little "women's joke" that starts off the story. Sigh.

In health news, I'm doing fine...feeling more normal every day although most of the time my right boob aches like a sonuvabitch. S'okay. I'll take that ANY DAY over an aching sternum.

One of these days--when I get a breather, HA--I'll write more about the experience. Oh, and post pictures.

I know.

You can hardly wait, huh?

Rest In Peace, Daddy

Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, Give 'er the gun! (Give 'er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one heckuva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame.
Hey! Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!

Minds of men fashioned a crate of thunder
Sent it high into the blue
Hands of men blasted the world asunder,
How they lived God only knew!
Souls of men dreaming of skies to conquer
Gave us wings ever to soar,
With scouts before and bombers galore, Hey!
Nothing'll stop the US Air Force!

Here's a toast to the host of those
Who love the vastness of the sky,
To a friend we send a message
Of his brother men who fly.
We drink to those who gave their all of old,
Then down we roar
to score the rainbow's pot of gold.
A toast to the host of men we boast, the US Air Force.

Zoom!

Off we go into the wild sky yonder,
Keep the wings level and true!
If you'd live to be a grey-haired wonder,
Keep your nose out of the blue! (Out of the blue, boy!)
Flying men guarding the nation's border,
We'll be there, followed by more,
In echelon we carry on! Hey!
Nothing'll stop the US Air Force!

Warren Revland Bruskrud 10-1-22 -- 3-20-10

High Flight

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air,
Up, up the long delirious burning blue.
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew;
And while with silent uplifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Buh-Bye Aortic Valve, Hello Mooooooooooooo

Two weeks ago tomorrow, can ya believe it?? How time flies! Yes, two weeks ago, they wheeled me through what felt like "backstage on the set of Grey's Anatomy." Only it was real life.

Strangely, I wasn't frightened (okay, maybe there was something already in my IV), but then they didn't give me very much time to get scared. My anesthesiologist (both charming and handsome in his turban) said something like, "ta-ta," and I remember feeling first one wave, then a second, then nothing.

Until I woke up with that damn tube down my throat.

Okay, I'd REALLY tried to prepare for this. I knew not to panic, I knew they wouldn't left me suffocate.

And I knew it'd be in for HOURS.

Luckily, I don't remember the specifics of this period--only that I kept thinking it was so much worse than I'd imagined. So. Much.

What I DO remember is that the nurses would ask if I was in pain, and I'd shake my head no, thinking, ASK THE RIGHT QUESTION.

Now, I'm not sure WHAT the right question was, but eventually, friend Kathleen (who held my hand the ENTIRE time), said: "Do you feel like you're choking?"

YES, I nodded.

At that point, I guess they suctioned me, or something, and then...(sorry about this)...I vomited. Well! At least I felt better after that!

The only other glaring memory of this special moment in time was my extreme desire to moisten my mouth. Finally, once they yanked the tube (after four hours), Kath was able to give me ice chips.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My new BFF!!!!!! (In fact, I overdid it a bit and threw up again, but oh well.)

Anyway, this all occurred in the ICU and I don't remember much else except for how peaceful it was there, and how nice and professional the staff was. In the middle of the night, I could look through a small window and see one of the nurses at her desk, and it was so comforting!

More tomorrow...

P.S. My everlasting (and I mean EVERLASTING) thanks to Kath, Ann, and Polly for being there that Thursday. Hugs to you, my angels!

Foiled Again

Is anyone sensing a pattern here?

Doc's office called at 4 this afternoon and canceled. Stay tuned.

If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium

It was a movie, folks. Starring Suzanne Pleshette. Look it up, if you don't remember.

So, the movie's apropos of nothing except the new date for which my surgery is scheduled.

Next Tuesday, March 2nd.

Gulp. Gag. Shudder.

I hesitate to blast this news across the blogsphere, cuz...well, like, ya never know. Things can always change. For instance, tomorrow when I report in (for the second time) at the pre-registration soiree, the nurse may hear me hack (and/or wheeze) and decide my doc's scheduling person is nuts. (I mean, isn't it kind of important to be breathing properly when you have surgery?) Oh, well. Maybe by Tuesday.

Tuesday...................