I'm human too, Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness, Real Life, Save me from myself!

A random, somewhat disturbing thought… (you’re welcome)

Last night I had to use a public restroom. The germaphobe inside of me screams and throws a fit whenever I enter one, but sometimes you do what you gotta do…

As I entered the stall, my eyes caught on something shiny on the floor: a quarter. Cringing at the very thought of picking it up, I went about my business and soon realized, there were more coins on the floor.

I counted them up: one quarter, two dimes and a nickel; 50cents.

Hmmm, 50 cents. Do I take it or leave it?

Mentally, I weighed the pros and cons:

PRO–50 cents is 50cents, I don’t care how you get it. It all spends.

CON–It’s only 50 cents, is that worth touching money that’s been on the bathroom floor?

It was at this moment that I realize that if I don’t pick it up, someone else will. Thats just the facts of life. Someone will pick this up–and use it. Which further made me wonder how much of the change that was currently in my pocket had ever been on the floor of a public restroom–or worse.

I’ll let your minds decide the fate of that particular 50 cents (if it went home with me or someone else) and I’ll pose a question to all of you:

Would YOU have picked it up? It is money and it all spends and chances are you’ve unknowingly touched some with a sketchy past…

Or would you have left it alone?

If you’d have left it alone, how many coins would need to be there minimum to tempt you to pick it up?

(Okay, I wrote this very early this morning and my mind went in all sorts of wrong directions! LOL)

Behind the Scenes, draft file, I'm the victim of myself, My own craziness, My readers rock!, Real Life, Save me from myself!

Random Ramblings…

This is one of those “pulled from the draft file” posts.

The Date: November 13, 2013.

The reason for the post: I have no idea! Just rambling.

The reason I didn’t post it: Again, no idea, probably because I got severely distracted and totally lost my train of thought.

So without any further adieu…

Consider yourself warned, this is an updating sort of post that rambles. (Yes, that was my original opening line!)

If we ever meet in person you’ll know right off that I’m odd. No, no, really I am. There are a few regular commenters on here who I’ve met in person and I’m sure they all had some sort of shocker moment that still haunts them. Such as the reader I shared a hotel room with when I forgot my pajamas and to make matters worse I had to wake her up with the news that the toilet had just overflowed. Another reader totally shocked me when out nowhere at a book signing, she just popped right up in my face and said, “Hey, I know you!” I’m certain my eyes nearly popped out of my head as I stuttered through an introduction. Or the first reader I ever met. She walked up to me in the airport while I was looking totally bedraggled after a sleepless conference and holding a giant sea sponge and said, “I think you’re who I’m looking for.”

Of course there have been a few who I’ve met when I was prepared that I probably still totally freaked out with me just being plain old odd me.

I’m okay with that. Really, I am. It’s why I like to pretend I’m Regina Banks and fade into the wallpaper if I can. It’s probably also why I write stories. I live in my own world a lot when I can.

I say all that to say that for those brave enough to have already met me in person, they’ll know that I really DO live in my own little world where sometimes I ramble. Much like I’m doing right now.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

I'm human too, My own craziness, Randomness, Real Life

Adulting…I just don’t wanna!

I don’t know if it’s the weather or the stress from gathering all of these blasted forms and calculating my taxes, but today I’ve worked so much on my taxes that I just don’t feel like doing anything else that’s considered being an adult today AKA I won’t be making my word count. As disappointing as that is, if I look at a computer screen for more than another 5-10 minutes I just might go cross-eyed. Permanently.

So what am I going to do?

Well, I had a reader who raved on and on about her adult coloring book and how wonderful it is for stress and getting away from your screen. Do I like to color? Um, not really. But I’m gonna give it a whirl! I’ll keep y’all updated.

Question: What do you do when you need a break?

I'm human too, I'm the victim of myself, Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness

Walmart woes…and whoas!

I live in a smaller town and the closest store that has both food and clothes is Walmart. Yes, I could fall into the redneck category–but don’t you dare call me a hillbilly!

However, for as small town/redneck as I might be even I am amazed at times when I go into Wally World. I do try to be polite and keep my head down when I walk through the aisles but sometimes the kid wearing wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt finds you. As does the man dressed like a chicken. Or the woman with the bungee cord holding her pants up, yet her very…uh…generous middrift is in full sight. Of course a trip isn’t complete without at least two toddlers having a meltdown (no judgement here, one of my boys provided that ambiance more than once). 

Oh, Wally World wherever would we be without your low prices, temperamental cashiers and a clean up on aisle 4 that’s been there so long it’s become part of the floor?!

In case you can’t tell, I only go when I must. Yesterday I had to. Remember that flyer I posted up a few weeks ago, the one my boys thought would help them better with sports? Here’s a reminder:

IMG_3231
Well, on the backside was a coupon for a free box valued up to 6.99. This might be tmi but my pride only goes so far. Like most women I don’t enjoy having to buy these. Moreover, they’re rather expensive–especially when you consider what they’re used for. 

I digress. 

The coupon had an upcoming expiration date, so I decided: “It’s now or never”. My wallet screamed, NOW!!!! So I made a little list and off I went. Hey, I might be screwing up my courage to use such a coupon but that isn’t the only thing I’m going to the register with!  I grabbed my items and and headed to the register, but not before seeing theses:

  
Seriously?! It’s January!!! And 25 degrees and they’re displaying (and selling???) bikinis! Again, it’s Walmart. With that such reasoning, I start to look for a register. We have the self checkouts and I typically prefer to use those so I don’t have to deal with the crabapples who run the others, but I wasn’t taking a chance on the machine not scanning my coupon and me having to wave someone over to explain what’s going on. My luck would be that she’s be deaf and not know what to do and call a CSM over–and while waiting 20 minutes for one to meander over, she’d insist on carrying around my tampon coupon to every other station she helped. Then, when the CSM did show up, the lady would have no tact or volume control when she said, “That lady wants to use this here coupon to buy her fancy tampons but the machine is…blah, blah, blah…” Of course this would be followed with, “Ma’am, I’m gonna need to see your tampons…”

NO THANK YOU!

Instead, I walked down the row of cashiers and looked for one who looked to be a female who was older than me, but not my grandma’s age. When I found the right one, I stood in line and waited while she scanned the groceries in front of me. Then it was my turn. She scanned it all and gave me my total. I said, “I have a coupon, too.” Then handed her my strategically folded massive coupon so the bacode was visible but thr picture was not. She scanned it–then her eyes got huge. She unfolded it and started looking it over on both sides. “This just came to your house?”

I nodded. Yep, my address was right there on the back. 

“I gotta check the mail when I get home. I need this for my granddaughter.” Then, the unthinkable happens. She opens it fully and shows it to the lady behind me! “Isn’t this cool? She just got a free box of tampons.”

Without missing a beat the lady behind me goes, “Oh cool, those are the kind I use too.”

And at that moment all I wanted was my receipt and a getaway car! 

changes, I'm the victim of myself, My own craziness, Updates

Rose’s Romance Ramblings is Now Rose Unscripteed

For 2016 (and beyond I hope unless I’m thrown off of this thing), I’ve decided to change the direction of my blog just a little bit. Instead of focusing on romance novels (mostly mine *grins*) I think being more candid about my life and things as I see them is the direction. Oh, wait, I already do that…plus, I never really rambled on about romance anyway–it was just a somewhat catchy title with all the words starting with the letter R.

So, if you get an email from ROSE UNSCRIPTED in place of where Rose’s Romance Ramblings used to be…it’s just me stalking you legally. No worries it’s still the same crazy content with a new name.

In short: new name, same crazy. Open if you dare!

Oh, and be on the look out soon for a new “look” to the layout.

~Rose

I'm the victim of myself, Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness

Because it’s Monday…

Because it’s Monday and we all need a little pick-me-up (and because I love you all so much I had to share this, of course), I’m posting this.

Like most kids, my boys like to check the mail. Usually, they’ll bring it in and sort it into two piles: Mom and Dad. To them, there’s no junk.

So, they’re sorting through their stack and my husband walks up just as they find the following:

IMG_3231
On the back is a coupon.

Before he could say anything to them about what to do with this piece of mail, Henry in all of his eight-year-old innocence says, “Look! These help you with sports!”

There’s just nothing to say to that. However, in case you, too, want to improve your athletic ability, you can order your box here and have it delivered to your home in a discreet package.

Now, I’m going to try to get about my day without laughing every time I look at the counter and see that stupid flyer.

I'm the victim of myself, My own craziness, Randomness

Grumpy Mama–That’s me!

As a disclaimer, I got the term Grumpy Mama from one of my friends–that story to come sometime soon.

I’ve mentioned that this year my boys are into sports, Eddie does basketball and Henry is attempting wrestling.

Certain days a week one has practice, on other days it’s the other. Living outside of town like we do it’s really not convenient, but it’s important to my boys so we make it work. What doesn’t work is when you pick them up from school at 3:45 and the one who doesn’t have a scheduled practice for that day greets you with, “Mom, we have practice tonight at 4:30”.

Now that would make many moms, including me, want to groan. I did not. I wanted to, but I stayed nice. For now. The fact is, 45 minutes isn’t a lot of time to do anything. Good thing we live 20 minutes away from the school if I haul you-know-what so we can drive all the way home, they can both grab their sports clothing and we can play beat the clock to run by Sonic and inhale a grilled cheese and fries and get to the gym before 4:30.

Why eat first, you might wonder, because last time we had one of these impromptu practices (only two nights earlier I might add), the thing went on and on and on and on and on. I’d feel better about feeding him a little something prior to practice then letting him eat again when he gets back home which wouldn’t be before 6:30 at the earliest.

While dropping Eddie off at basketball, I run in and ask the coach how long practice is anticipated to be. “About and hour, hopefully not more.” Her eyes tell me a different story. It’s going to be a long night.

Okay… Well, as much as I’d love to stay for it, I really need to go feed Henry (Sonic might be considered fast food, but it’s not, and I didn’t dare order more than a single grilled cheese) before wrestling. Off we go. The child wants to eat at Taco Bell. And not a taco, either. No, he wants THREE bean burritos. He’s eight! And about to go wrestle.

Hesitantly, I pull up at the drive through and order his burritos and then watch in amazement in the rearview mirror as he eats all three of them. Now, like every good mom, I have a decision to make here. I could have stopped him from eating so many, or I could pray about the results. If I choose to pray, should I pray he’s able to hold them down…or that if they must come up that it happens on that spoiled, little twit–Reynolds. He definitely deserves such! I did neither. I just ate my own burrito and decided whatever happens, happens; and if Reynolds gets sprayed, well, what can ya say? Stuff happens.

Eating as slowly as we could didn’t seem to gobble up an hour–only half of it. So we took our time driving over to the gym with about 10 minutes before 5:30. My hopes weren’t up that Eddie be done anyway and I hate being spotted talking to another parent or heave forbid, the coach, because then I get the “Mom, what did you talk to so-and-so about? Did they say anything about my playing?” Honestly, I don’t talk about my son’s playing with anyone at practice. None of the parents do. All the kids’ play is about equal: terrible. (And so would mine be so I can say that.) Instead, I opted to send my younger son in, saying, “When Eddie is done, you two come straight out. I don’t want to have to come in there again and hunt you two down. It’s cold. I’m tired. And doing that might make me cranky.”

Two minutes later two little boys came trotting out. And I do mean trotting. Both were dressed in their sports attire: t-shirts and shorts…in 30-degree weather. Hello, Pneumonia!

“Thank goodness you’re here, Mom. Practice finished ten minutes ago and I thought I was going to have to wait until after you dropped Henry off at six.”

My jaw could have hit the ground. Seriously, the ONE DAY I don’t straddle-the-parking line and haul the whole crew inside is the one day practice only lasts 45 minutes?! Usually, it’s supposed to be one hour that turns into closer to two. In disbelief, I look at the clock, it’s only 5:25, leaving us with 35 minutes to do absolutely nothing before I can drop Henry off at wrestling.

Now, I know it seems like a lot of whining and it is. But really what do you do in the freezing cold for 35 minutes? Nothing. If we go to any kind of a store, we’ll spend a good 20-25 of those minutes driving to the store and then back to the high school gym. Not enough time left to actually buy anything (unless I had a list–with a list, albeit a small one, that could easily be done, but not to wander and look around).

So I opt to go get gas and try not to curse whosever idea it was to throw an unscheduled basketball practice in the middle of my afternoon/evening! Right after school would be fine. Or even at say…5 would have been fine. But 4:30?! Totally dashed any plans of going home and eating a simple family dinner before going back to town.

Pushing aside the unkind thought, I pull into the gas station and suddenly I have something new to grumble about: the first bay of pumps I go down have plastic bags over them. I look down at the other end and there are four cars parked at the very last cluster of pumps. Getting my hopes up, I cruise over there only to see those pumps all have the little plastic this-pump-is-out-of-order-take your-business-elsewhere bags.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I drove all the way across town to a different gas station and hop out of the car wearing my yoga pants, t-shirt and a coat (hey, I thought I was just going to pick up my kids from school and go home not be in town all afternoon!). My hands shaking with cold I slide my card in the machine and enter my zip code before turning my back on the machine and unlocking the gas cap. I hate this thing by the way. The key is no longer than about an inch with only a quarter of an inch as the part you hold onto. I’m always terrified I’m going to break the key off in the lock. Then what would I do?!?!

Turning back to the pump, I select my grade and insert the nozzle and squeeze.

Nothing.

I pop the lever and try again. Nothing.

I must have taken too long to remove the cap and put the nozzle in.

Canceling the transaction, I reach for my card again. Surely these pumps will work, there’s not bags out here and the light is on in the store. Buy why aren’t there any other cars…

Oh, look there’s one now.

Like a shivering idiot, I watch the guy get out of his car and go inside. He must be prepaying with cash, I think as I run my card again and start going through all steps again. About two seconds after I pull my card out and it asks for my zip code, the guy comes back out and says, “Pumps aren’t working.”

Seriously? How many times was the gas station attendant going to let me try to buy gas before telling me this? They have those little speakers above the pump. All he has to do is press a button and tell me the pumps aren’t working. Instead I have to hear it from another customer. I guess the clerk is some sort of sicko who enjoys watching people freeze in their yoga pants!

If he was already laughing, I’m sure it continued as the stupid pump wouldn’t let me cancel my transaction without first entering my zip code. Reluctantly, I did, then hit cancel. It wouldn’t cancel. It wanted me to select a grade. Irritation flooding me. I select a grade and wait as the thing wants me now to remove the nozzle. It’s already in the truck, so I squeeze that stupid lever like I’m TRYING to fill the tank with gas so the stupid machine will let me cancel my transaction. Then it freezes. I can’t cancel. I can’t do anything. I can’t even call in for help. If it wasn’t illegal to beat the gas pump with its own hand pump/nozzle part I would have done so! FINALLY the thing resets itself and my transaction is cancelled. But no receipt spits out.

At this point, I get back in the truck and look at the clock: 5:45. “Henry, we’re going to wrestling. If they say something because you’re this early, they’ll have to deal with me. And I don’t think they want that.”

“I don’t think anyone wants that right now,” Henry agrees. “Oh, look, Mom. Your receipt just came out. Want me to get it for you?”

“Sure. Thank you, baby.”

A moment later, his little head pokes back in the truck, “It won’t tear.”

SERIOUSLY?! Have we become part of National Lampoons or what? Why didn’t Alex Banks invent a time machine so I could go back to when I left my house and come to town better prepared for the chaos that was about to ensue?

Needless to say, we arrived at wrestling at 5:52 and I was out of the parking lot less than 60 seconds later, praying Bob would indeed be back in town by the time it ended to pick him up because I wanted nothing more than to go home and take a nice warm bath to regain feeling in my toes.

(Ha, like that would actually happen–it didn’t. No, instead, I had to go home and do this…adulting thing. You know where you have to wash the dishes so the whole family doesn’t have to eat off paper plates and plastic spoons in the morning.)

Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness

Don’t Poke the Bear–the Mama Bear, that is.

As I was happily blogging away about my oh-so-wonderful experience last night, I came to a screeching halt when I realized that in order to understand part of my inner struggle as a parent, you needed to know a little background information.

So here it is…

For anyone not keeping up with all the important details of my life, my boys are now 10 (Eddie) and a sneeze away from nine (Henry)–and yes that makes me feel old because when I first started blogging they were 4 & 5…

This year, they’re into sports. Naturally because life is never simple they don’t want to play the same sport. Eddie is into basketball and Henry likes wrestling.

Great.

Not so great is that they both lack something very important: athletic ability. I try to be positive with them, but I’m also a realist. When we talk about how great they are, I try to stick with things they really are good at: Your dribbling was awesome today! or Good passing! I try to steer clear of praising his shooting because frankly, I don’t think the boy has ever made a basket. And that’s okay. We’re not all good at sports, and the team needs someone who can dribble the ball down the court–half the kids can’t.

With Henry, it’s different. Wrestling is a one-man team. You either beat your opponent, or put up one heck of a fight losing. He does neither. He loves to go and the child is taller than average and as strong as an ox, but for whatever reason–mainly due to lack of proper technique–he rarely comes out the victor.

I dated a wrestler in high school so I tried to give him some ideas of what to do. He wasn’t having it. He only wanted to hear what the coaches told him to do, not his mom. Most of what they’d told him to in practice was to let some of the other boys do a 2-legged take down on him because of his size compared to theirs. Fine, I get that it’s practice, and in practice in order to learn technique you have to let your opponent win. What they didn’t say was when he could STOP allowing the other boys to beat him. (In defense of the coaches, my child has some genuine hearing problems, so likely, they did and he just didn’t hear it.) So his first few wrestling sessions, he lost every time because he didn’t put up a fight and he wasn’t learning to use the technique OR what could block it.

Unfortunately, all the others kept progressing and he didn’t because of this so when they’d do free wrestling, he’d almost always lose. Well, one of the boys there goes by Reynolds. Now, Reynolds is about the same age, just a little smaller. Of the four boys Henry has ever won against, Reynolds makes up a quarter of them. Now Reynold’s dad has a chip the size of a Ruffles Potato Chip on his shoulder because he saw Henry get taken down by several of the other boys in their age/weight division and told his son he wasn’t allowed to wrestle against Henry anymore that he wasn’t good enough.

When this news traveled back to me that this was said, the coaches honored his request and now my child had to stand out a few rounds to wait for other partners, I reacted like any other mother would: I Facebook messaged an old wrestling friend of mine (not my old flame, I’m not that crazy) and said, “Can I hire you to come teach my son how to wrestle–specifically, I want him to be able to pin this other kid’s ass in front of his dad over and over again?”

Judge me if you want, but hell hath no fury like a Mama Bear!

I'm human too, I'm the victim of myself, Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness

New Year’s Confessional

Okay, I must come clean…

But before I go any further all I can say is, don’t judge me–you know you’ve either done it or at least contemplated it.

I have two boys, one is 10 and one is a sneeze away from nine. Neither are what anyone would consider night owls. Sure, they CAN stay up late,but it makes the next day totally miserable. (I’m sure those of you who’ve done this know exactly where this is going…)

Yesterday, prior to kickoff of the Oklahoma/Clemson Game I announced that from now until midnight it was family time and there were NO electronics and asked my kids to go bring me their Kindles.

And then it happened…

While engrossed in the Sooners vs Clemson game, I may have…uh…moved the clock ahead after the first quarter in the name of getting more snacks. At halftime my kids marveled at how long this game was to which I said, “Yep, it’s the big one!” Then hurried them on to make their New Years’ Hats.

This game was SO big in fact that after it got dark, I might have…well, I moved it ahead again!

And then, for good measure, just as it was wrapping up…I moved the clock ahead by an hour ONE MORE TIME.

Longest game ever. Started at 3pm ended at almost 10pm! (As a side note: for my husband it truly was a long game and not because of my maneuvering of the clock.)

At “10” (or to everyone else in my timezone 7) we rushed to finish our hats and so we could start a movie to watch until midnight.

To help assuage my guilt, I offered to make some milkshakes–and yawned a few times for good measure.

By 10:25 the movie was on and by 11:50 the movie was over and it was go time.

Rushing around like maniacs, we all donned our barely dry party hats and grabbed a cup of confetti. I set the timer on the stove and at midnight we tossed the confetti and cheered. When the cheering ceased, I heard the words, “Wow, it’s already midnight, I’m not even tired.” Followed by, “Yeah, I didn’t even yawn once!”

Tamping down my guilt, I promptly sent the children to bed and went to my room where I sat anxiously in my bed for who knows how long waiting for one of them to barge in and declare I’d tricked them!

Fortunately, nothing came of it and I must have fallen asleep because at the real midnight, I was awakened by some fireworks and crept to the kitchen to fix the clocks.

It’s sure a lot of work being devious, I should really give Lady Olivia more credit than I do…

Okay, now that I’ve come clean it’s y’all’s turn!

(By the way, as I’m typing this, my kids are running around and I’m typing this in a 2″ window so pardon any typos, I’m too scared to go back to the top and re-read…)

 

Behind the Scenes, Contests, Gentlemen of Honor, Giveaway, Happenings, My own craziness, My readers rock!, Passions of a Gentleman, Randomness, The Perfect Lady Worthe, Updates, Writing

Updates!!!

I’m sure it has not gone unnoticed that roughly a year ago my blog postings came to a screeching halt. Several times in this year, I’ve tried very hard to re-start them, but had so many stumbling blocks. Unfortunately, I cannot share the details of my hiatus, but I can give some updates!

1. I am getting ready for a trip to Phoenix, AZ where I’ll be presenting a workshop at Buildin’ the Dream–a writer’s conference. 

The workshop is titled Write with your Heart, Sell with your Brain. This is definitely author-focused so if you’re a writer or aspiring author, or even an assistant or publicist, and you’re in that area or planning to attend the conference, please come see me!

Speaking of conferences…

2. I just got home for RT in Dallas!

I drove myself to and from the conference this year so any crazy travel shenanigans were my own doing… Which admittedly, did happen, but I shan’t divulge details and incriminate myself! I had a ton of fun while there and met many new authors. I also picked up TONS of swag and books (some signed, some not) that I’ll be giving away soon! Stay tuned.

Oh yeah, giveaways…

3. I currently have a super giveaway already up on Facebook.

For the past few months I’ve been giving away a box of books and swag to a random fan who likes the post. Comments are awesome and totally appreciated, but you don’t have to leave one to be entered.

Click here for the post.

Also, I have a 0ne-day giveaway as well (this will end at 12pm CST today). This one is a little more involved. I just need a comment with your favorite book quote (doesn’t have to be one of mine). Click here and see top post (pinned).

4. The book featured in the second giveaway is my new novella, The Perfect Lady Worthe

I hope you all knew I put out a new novella in March, but just in case, here are the details.

Lady Worthe Cover for HJ

The last thing Jane Cavanaugh would ever expect is to be married—she is an invalid, after all—but that doesn’t mean she can’t help with her sister’s husband hunt! (Even if it is with a wee bit of reluctance.)

The last thing Gareth, Lord Worthe would ever want to do is to fall in love with his closest friend’s younger sister.

But fate just might have something else in store for these two…

Please note, this novella is approximately 23,500 words and is on sale for .99 at the following places:


5. And finally, Passions of a Gentleman

Still making progress. I know I’ve said that multiple times, but I really am. It’s just slow progress. I’ve had more re-starts than I could have ever dreamed about having. I just want to make sure it’s right. That’s what’s fair to you all, to me and well, to the characters, too!

 

Have a blessed week!