81-year-old model hired for couture collection

81-year-old model hired for couture collection

Blame Helena Books and Media

Wow! It has been an active three years since I've last posted. In that time, I've published two eBooks, La Rose, Book I Le Baton Chronicles and Dorothy Jones A Jazz Age Trip Through Oz.

I've also started a new blog , blamehelenabooks.blogspot.com, and website,  www.blamehelenabooks.com. Please check them out!

Thank you for following me! I hope you will look me up at my new locations!

Claudia Helena Ross

Haiti

Unbelievable. There is nothing more to add.

If you wish to aid in the relief efforts, please visit msnbc or other news stations for a list of agencies. Be careful of scams, for people are still people in the midst of catacylsmic destruction, seeking to make a buck.

On the msnbc sight, they provide this easy way to give...

For those interesting in helping immediately, simply text "HAITI" to "90999" and a donation of $10 will be given automatically to the Red Cross to help with relief efforts, charged to your cell phone bill.

Here's the link to the sight: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34835478/ns/world_news-haiti_earthquake/

Pray.

Haiti Earthquake and Terror

When I awoke this morning, I did not fully understand the sheer magnitude of the quake and the scope of its widespread distruction.



All I can do is pray for them. Well, maybe I can do a bit more.


Here's a one stop list courtesy of CNN, providing a variety of relief agencies and ways to volunteer:

http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2007/impact/

If you find any organizations offering solutions on how we can help, please pass them along and I will post them.

Little else seems to matter today.

Happy New Year, Guilds and Associations!

Let me start by saying....

Happy Birthday Jordan!

My niece turned 8 years old today. Yeah! Has it truly been 8 years? Well that is what both the calendar and Jordan tell me, so it must be so. Happy Birthday!!!

Yes, I have finally returned. The past several weeks have been insane, and then lump in the holidays and well there it is! Although challenging, these have proven to be some of the best weeks of my life.

After 20 years, I have my OWN apartment. I still feel as if I'm on vacation and that this new reality will pop, disappearing from my life. But it is real. Surreal.

I have finished another major edit of La Rose, and now I am working on the line by line edit. Once completed, I think that we will be ready to go and see the Wizard. I came up with a pretty decent query, but it needs quite a bit of work. Then there is always the daunting task of writing the synopsis. Yikes! But it is well. I will only complete marginal work on the other novels until I complete and polish this one.

Focus....

I have also given a few copies to friends to read. So far, so good. However, some have shared that it is can be a bit violent at times.

I have joined two writers groups. One is the Chicago Writers Association The other is theInternational Women's Writers Guild . I have already enjoyed an outing with Chicago Writers at Sheffield's last Thursday, January 7th for their event Deck the Hall: A Party to Benefit the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame, honoring acclaimed authors Bayo Ojikutu, 47th Street Black; Marcus Sakey, The Blade Itself and Don De Grazia, American Skin. It was great. Each author read from their favorite classic, and then did a second reading from their own work. I got to mix and mingle a little bit, but the free beer distracted me. Everyone had a great time.


Well, back to work. I hope that everything is well with all of you. ;-)

Emmanuel

I have been working so many hours that I have not had the opportunity to update the blog. It is our busy season at work, commandeering every second of my day. However, I have managed to squeeze in some writing time on the train. Usually I reserve train time for applying makeup and taking a quick nap. Desperate times call for desperate measures. The nap looses.

I have been trying to work into my first book the expanded story of one of my characters, but the story is too long. So guess what? He gets his own book! I have titled it Emmanuel, named after the character. He is an angel who chose to 'fall' with Satan so that he could keep an eye on his activities while terrorizing mankind, especially God's Rose, Lela. Emmanuel is a continuation in the series of  novels, spurned by Julian's curiousity regarding his great-great-great grandfather. Intrigued by his name, subliminally remembering their past lives together, Julian asks Lela to tell him Emmanuel's story. She tells him that only Emmanuel can tell his story. Suddenly before Julian's eyes, Emmanuel commandeers his grandmother's body, telling him of not only his life, but their lives together for 200 prior to Julian's current incarnation.

That's kinda it in a nutshell. I have written the story throughout all of the novels. However, I have finally decided to extract the chapters from the other books, giving the story its own space to grow. We will see what becomes of it.

Busy and Writing

How do we balance life and writing? Both are two pretty dominating forces to contend with. We must work our jobs, take care of home and family. At the same time, we have to satisfy the burning desire to put pen to paper, fingers to key board, and crank out all of the thoughts bouncing around inside of our hearts, minds and souls.

For me, I am now well into the 'busy season' at work, being that the holidays are near. As an Executive Assistant, I must not only attend to my normal duties, but the extra cares of conference planning, mailing lists and gift ordering for my boss's many associates, friends, families and clients. Needless to say, I am already exhausted. But even with all of this, my writing is placing pressure on me as well, constantly bombarded with new ideas, scenes, story organization (or re-org) the list goes on.

But somehow, it all gets done. I am always sleepy, but everything gets done. I dream of the days when I will enjoy uninterupted time to write, but I find when I am granted those few moments of serenity, I have nothing to say. It is an all or nothing situation. I must do it all at once or nothing at all. I am so accustomed to writing under pressure, I do not how not to.

How do you write? Do you do better under pressure or in a relaxed, serene enviroment (if such a thing exists)?

Continual Growth

Since splitting the novel for the umpteenth time, the saga overall has taken on a new life, blossoming, unfolding, growing. I am shuffling storylines around... characters are evolving. Those who had small roles before are growing, sharing more of whom they are and how they came to be.

It is funny, but once I let go of my idea of what the series should be, it has become what it actually is. So now, I am just going with the flow, anxious to see what the story will become.

I guess that I will not finish anytime soon. Ha! But then again, maybe I will complete all sooner than expected.

Names and Words

So, I have begun work splitting the novels. Now I have a new dilemma.

Titles.

I am tempted to continue the with the same naming convention. I believe that I will.

La Rose, Book I.

That is kind of boring. I think that I would like to do a subtitle. I am tempted to name the book after the heroine, but I am not sure if I wish to do it. There is another name that I am considering, but I was saving it for a entirely different book (still part of the same saga, I have only written 20 pages of it). Not sure if I wish to name it after the town.... Hmm, actually that may not be a bad idea. It would certainly catch everyone's attention...

New Orleans

Book I of La Rose

Le Baton Chronicles

Wow, I really like this painting. It perfectly describes Lela Chevalier Roberts who is the Holy One, La Rose.

Shucks, I am not sure what I will do. However, I do believe that I will have time to mull it over a bit. It will come to me.

Anyhow, the word count is really low. It is currently about 85K, but after I fill the story out a bit, it will come in at about 95K. Can you imagine that? Only 95K words? Gee whiz. It seems so short. But, perhaps folks make take more of an interest in it this way.

Splittin'

I'm going to do it again. I know, I said that I would not, but I am going to do it.

Once again, I will divide the book.

Currently, I have it broken into volumes and then books. Why not just allow each book to stand alone? I guess I fear that no one would continue to read the story is not presented all at once. But I have to have faith in the story, that readers would be anxious to read the next book. I must have confidence in the gift that God has given to me. I must have confidence in myself. I believe lack of confidence in myself or anything that I do is the root of the problem.

Fear.

So from one super duper long novel, at least six novels have sprung forth, claiming their own lives. I guess they all may breath a sigh of relief, having room to grow and flourish. Well, it may not be such a bad thing afterall. Back to the writing pad!

Long Hand

Gee whiz. I have fallen into the abyss of writing out inspirations in long hand. This can be very troubling. Now, I must find the time to type everything up. Procrastination treadmill.

But, it is not necessarily a bad thing. I find that I rarely type word for word what I have written. I moreso use it as a guide to create the story. It is strange. They become my notes, as if I have just returned from lecture hall, now required to transcribe what I have heard.

A strange presence has come over me. I cannot describe it. I wish to write, and I do, but something is there, not blocking me... I cannot describe it. It is as someone standing in the distance. Are they approaching me? Am I approaching them? LOL It sounds as if I'm on some sort of 'trip' but I am not. Perhaps the novel is about to turn a corner that I cannot see. I am not sure what it is.

Enough of my bizarre ecsoteric ramblings. Off to work!

Catching It All

I awoke at about 4am this morning, my mind teaming with scenarios for the novel (s). It played out before me as if a movie.

Dilemma: Do I get up and write it down?

Sometimes I do, but sometimes I don't, rolling the dice that I will remember all in the morning. Well guess what?

ZERO!!!

I did not get my lazy so and so up to write it down. "You should leave a pad and pen beside your bed, so that you can jot down ideas." Yeah, if I was smart! LOL Before I moved, I did keep a pad and paper close by. However, I do not have a private area anymore, so I try to keep my things put away. In any case, I bet if I leave my pad out tonight, nothing will come to me. LOL Funny.

Good news! As I write this blog, some of the storylines are beginning to come back to me. That was it! I was thinking about scenes for the final book. Weird huh? I cannot even get the first one finished/published, but I am writing the final book. It just goes on and on. I am not complaining, though. As I have said before, I could write their stories for the next ten years. This is how I have written all of the novels, well over 1 million words total, if I had to guess. The stories come in flashes and dreams...

In any case, I will stop blogging now, so I can jot down a few notes to expound on later.

Happy writing!

Blah! Day Two

LOLLOL... What is going on with me? I am sitting here at my desk, my notes open, eating a Jimmy Johns Roast Beef Sandwich (not bad) and I cannot buckle down! It is not writer's block, all I could do was think of the book last night (as always). I am not quite sure what the problem is. I'm just kinda bored and tired. Well not really. Ugh! This is so frustrating!!!

Maybe I have overdosed on it all. Hmmm. Not sure what to say. I probably should take a break. I have been working on this novel for nearly three years, every day. Yup, probably a little burnt out. Perhaps I should take a break from it all and read the works of others. The only books I have read throughout this process are the Bible and Time Traveler's Wife. I stopped reading Time Traveler's because I feared that her writing style was beginning to intermingle with mine.

The experts say that writer's should read the works of others, but should one do it while working on their own stuff? Any thoughts?

Well, I'm nearly finished with my sandwich. It was good!

Happy Sweetest Day to all.

Blah!

Blah! What else can I say? It is the end of a pretty busy work day. I now sit here at my computer, wondering what to do. Not that I don't have plenty to do, but no desire to do any of it. I don't feel like writing (although it is all I think about), don't want to go home, don't want to go and hang out, don't want to do any backoffice work. Blah!

I am bored to tears. Not unhappy, just bored. Not sure what to do or where to go. I'm sleepy but I cannot find a place to rest. I dream of being on a island somewhere in a big fluffy bed... But then I would be irritated because the sun would awaken me. Perhaps not. I would be fully rested, ready to engage a new day!

Hmmm. I don't even feel like writing this blog. What do I wish to do? Something different, but I am not sure if I have the energy to do even that.

I think that my problem is that since I cannot live my dream, I do not wish to do anything at all. I want to go out on a date with a guy. I want the guy to like me. I want to have a good time. I want it to grow into something more. I don't want him to be crazy. I want him to like me and pursue me (not stalk me). LOLLOL And yes, I may even have someone in mind. Yup I am sure of it. In the words of Hannible Lector, 'You covet what you see everyday.' Creepy but true.  But hey, it is all in good fun. I expect nothing from it.

But, these are just dreams. You know, the stuff that novels are made of. ;-)

Well, I shall return tomorrow to write another day. Have a great weekend!

Writing Again... A Little

I slept for about an hour last night, awakening at 1am. I lay there in the darkness for awhile, and then I would give the TV a try (checked out a History Channel presentation on the planet Mars). I turned off the TV and tried to fall asleep. I began thinking about the novels all of them. Watching them.

Damn

Finally at 4am, I give up on sleeping and jot down some notes. By 445, I turn off the light and the TV.

I hear my Father making coffee. It had to be at the latest 515

A bit of light filters through the heavy cloud cover. Somehow my eyes detected what found its way into the family room through the blinds. 715

Time to go to work.

After a few glasses of ice coffee once arriving at the office, I am on my way. I refused to allow anyone to upset me today. I stayed away from those who only seek to suck up my energy.

Today, I chose me. I liked choosing me. I felt good about choosing me. I believe that I will choose me from now on.

I checked out some spa treatments for my severely neglected body and spirit. Maybe I will by a new top.

Alas, it is time for me to return home. Let us see how long my good feelings will last.

Oh yeah. I did not type up my newest inspirations today. I wonder why? They are still scribble on my notepad. I guess I'm a little tired in a way. I think that all the drama at home has tapped me out a bit. Not sleeping last night did not help any. But, it will get better. Why? Because I'm going to make it better.

I am tired of being unhappy. Why should I be? I have no reason to be unhappy. God has blessed me with everything I need, yet I give it all away, keeping nothing for myself. Why do I do that? Is this the Christian thing to do? And when you give it all to someone who has a 'what have you done for me lately' attitude, what is the point?

So much to consider.

Life Goes On

Well, it has been a week since my life changed. I'm ok, still a little emotionally and spiritually numb, but I'm making it. In order to maintain peace, I was encouraged to eat crow, cowtow and reinstate the status quo.

Fine.

So what now? Take it as long as I can before I explode. See I am a tad bit passive aggressive. I hold shit in, and then I burst. So one day, they will look up and I will be gone. I shared this with my best friend (since high school). "I will tell them why you left," she laughed. I laughed with her. It is all very ridiculous. It is time for me to leave. I will return one day, but I do need to but some miles between us for awhile.

It is strange. I am not angry. I am a little afraid, but overall, I'm ok. Who wants to loose their family? But they did not choose me, so why am I concerned? I feel strangely at peace about it all. It will resolve itself according to God's will. I know that my time here is short. Soon, I will be free. Not sure how (hmm, be careful what you ask for) but I would pray that God would not devastate our lives.

I just want to be free, that's all. I want to be happy. You know, I have never been happy? I think that the last time I was happy was in 5th grade. Yes, I was happy in 5th grade and the first few weeks of 6th grade, before transfering to a new school. I have not been happy since. I would be nice to be happy again.

Concede

Last night, I went home and apologized. Do I believe that I am wrong? No. I won't go into it, but sometimes we just need to bite our tongues and eat crow to make peace in the house. That is what I had to do. Do I feel better? No. But it does not matter. Everyone else is happy.

Although I read my horoscope daily, I fail to read my Bible verse of the day (backslider). I am a brat with my Brother. Sometimes I feel that He has forgotten me, when it is I who has turned my back on Him. So Jesus, I am sorry for being a bitch. I guess that I am tired of always having to settle and concede. But You did it for us willingly. So who am I? Am I better than You now? Don't thinka so. So I apologize for behaving with You as other members of my family have treated me. I am no better.

Oh. So anyway, I read my bible verse for today (www.biblegateway.com):

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”- Jeremiah 29:11

God is funny. Even after I have been a drunken chain smokin, cussin, selfish, fist fighting bitch, he would still consider me? Well, maybe he is talking to someone else. I don't deserve it.

But what if he would consider me? After so many years of suffering, would he remember me? Why would you? There are people out there who have endured and suffered far worse and have maintained an exceptional level of hope and faith in You. I cannot stomach attending church. I will attend Mass from time to time. Why would you consider an ungrateful, jelly backed bitch like me?

But I would be forever grateful if you did. ;-) For only You can release me.

Surrender

I thought it over. I am wrong.

I have not put my family first, seeking to satisfy my own needs and desires. But it is not about me, but the family. I must work with them to overcome obstacles and shortfalls. So, I yield to what the family has decided is right and wrong. I will stop being selfish.

I am selfish, you know. I drink too much and it effects the bottom line. I just enjoyed hanging out after work with 'normal folk.' I guess that everyone has their problems though. In any case, stopping off after work is taking me away from my family. Alcohol makes me complacent. It enables me to live in another realm, where I can experience my dreams without ever doing so in the present. I do not question what is going on around me. I accept all. That is probably why I got out of control. I woke up from my stupor (I have not had the money to drink, gotta pay the bills) and I began to think. I began to add up the expenses and charges. I began to remember the past and how I was treated. I got mad. I am wrong. Now, I must learn not to be selfish with the aid of alcohol. My parents are distressed by my drinking. I don't come home drunk every day(at least I do not believe so, but I am probably wrong about that too) but I guess they can tell that I've had a few and they don't like it. So when everything exploded, my drinking was blamed. It was 7am, and I was not drunk. I had two beers the night before. In any case, it was the perfect time to point out that stopping off everyday was a problem for everyone in the family.

So I will surrender my only comfort. I will surrender smoking too. You say, 'Hey smoking kills.' Not fast enough! LOL Just joking. You are right. It is an expensive and painful way to die. I will stop. I must buck up and endure the pain of life as does everyone else.

In any case, it is time to go home and help around the house, helping my family to complete any needed tasks. It would save a lot of money too, which I can give to them, were it would be better utilized. It is time to grow up and put away childish things. I cannot do what others do. I have responsibilities and it is time that I accept them and deal with them. Instead of giving all of my attention to my dreams and worthless non-paying projects, I must give my attention to my family, address their needs and concerns. I must learn to be a part of the community. I must do what community deems as prudient.

I will no longer go into the office on the weekends. It was an escape for me I suppose, sheltering me from the everything going on at home. I would come in and finish up items that I could not get to during the week. It was also my time to work on my writing. But as my sister told me, it is a waste of time and energy, working on books that no would ever read or have an interest in reading. I originally believed that she resented it because it took the focus off of her. I'm not very chatty while writing. But after thinking it over, she is right. When I write, I do not focus on my responsibilites, attend to household tasks, interact with others. I just sit at my laptop and write. It is all vanity and ego. It is pointless. So I will put them away. I will let it go.

I have wasted the past 3 years of my life on nothing. I always fall into traps such as these. In 2003, I believe that God had called me for some special purpose. I quit my job and followed Him. I became fanatical. I believe that God would come and save me from my life. I would stand in the window watching for Him. What did my sister remind me of? Oh yes. I believe that God would send limo's to gather us up, to save us from our foreclosed building. Never happened. Hmph. We would not have required saving if my fool ass had not of quit my job. We could have made it if I had not allowed my sister to convince me to evict the tenants (she could not stand hearing them walking around upstairs and a variety of other infractions they committed). But as always, she was just and right in her decision. It is pointless. It is in the past anyway. I only have today.

Life is not about living dreams, but doing what is required to help those around you. Our only value is what we are doing for others right now and what we can do in the future. It is all about giving. Giving is the only thing that matters. It is Godlike to give. There is no past or future, only now. Our only worth is what we have to give in the now. So, I surrender my dreams. They do not come to pass anyway. They were only just a vehicle to convince me to live another day. A little mental entertainment before going asleep at night.

The future seems exciting. I now understand what is required and can execute it. No more misconceptions or false hopes. No more ego. Now I understand what I must do and I accept it.

Finished

I am finished on so many levels. The first is with about the 10th edit of the newly named La Rose (formally La Fleur). I guess that the book is ok. I like it. It is long. I was recently told during an argument with a family member that no one would ever read it, mainly because no one is interested. Perhaps it is true. Nevertheless, it means something to me. A friend has read a previous version which contains both books (or volumes). She liked it quite a bit. She is brutally honest person, so if she did not like it, she would have stopped after the first 10 pages. I will accept her testimony.

It is funny. Those closest to you have the least faith in you and what you're working on, your passion. This one person in particular resents it (and nearly all that I do) because it takes attention away from them. If I am writing, it is a solitary task, leaving little time for socializing. With the recent events, I believe that I have chosen wisely. It is good that I did not waste my time with them.

With that being said, I am finished with my relationship with this person. I can no longer stroke them and make them them focus of my life. Sadly, when I stood up for myself with them (which I rarely do) they did not hesitate to demonstrate to me how little I actually mean to them. Other family members wish for us to reconcile, but I have no desire to do so at this time. In fact, they took their side, imply that drinking spurred my actions. I was not drunk. In fact, I have been sober (at least for me) for some time now. If I had been properly medicated, I would never have had the courage to stand up to them. Sometimes things happen for the best. I believe that this is one of those instances.

So now, it is just me and my writing. Everyone has left the office for the evening, off to enjoy themselves. I will sit here for awhile, read and then head out to a friends to sleep.

I am not sad, but I am. I am not depressed. I am angry. These feelings shall pass. Maybe I am wrong. Probably so, since the other party is ALWAYS right, even when they know that they are wrong, skillfully spinning the facts to justify themselves, conveniently forgetting information that disputes their point. I have seen them do it to so many of our other friends and acquaintances over the years. Now it is my turn. Did I believe that I was above the law? Not really. I knew in my heart that this day would come.

Yes, I am free from their tryanny. It is time to walk out into the unknown.

Home

I would rather go almost anywhere but there. But, it is time to leave work. My father has already called to see where I am. I wish that they would just let me come home on my own.

Short leash.

Sweet Potato Pie and Nachos

Last week, my father brought damn near a bushel of these humongous sweet potatoes. When I came in from work on Thursday, he told me about them. I could see where the conversation was headed. "Hey, if you have some time this weekend, you mind makin' me some pies?"

Not that cooking is ever the highlight of my day, but how could I resist a request from my Daddy? "Nope. Not a problem," I smiled.

So, early Sunday morning, while everyone else attended church (as I should have) I threw 5 prehistoric size potatoes into the pot to boil them. Gee whiz, it took over an hour for them to soften. When Mama and Daddy came in from church, he smiled. "What are you up to in here?"

"I thought that you wanted some pies?"

"Alright, alright!" he grinned, returning to his bedroom.

"I had a feeling while in church that you were going to start on those pies. How did you find the potatoes?" Ma asked me.

"I don't know. I found them yesterday while looking for something else."

So after hunting and pecking around for about 45 minutes I finally gathered together all of my ingredients. I barely had enough vanilla flavoring. I grew irritated when it came time to make the pie crust. We had neither lard nor shortening. "My crusts are going to be tough," I sighed. But I decided to make due with what I had. Once I added the water to flour and butter mixture, I knew then. The dough was not as soft and fluffy as I would have liked, but it would be ok. I assessed the finished ball of dough. "Ma, this is not enough to make four crusts."

"That is plenty. You make your pie crusts too thick anyway. I like a thin crust."

I frowned as she walked away. Ma likes her pies on crackers. I wrapped the dough in foil and placed it in the refrigerator to rest.

"What are you making Auntie?" my niece asked, bouncing into the kitchen from church.

"Sweet potato pies for Grandpa."

"Ooh!" She stuck her fingers into the mixture.

"Wash your hands!" My sister yelled at her. She rushed to the sink, washed up and resumed her task of licking the beaters dry.

Although I try to avoid cooking at all costs, the pies came out pretty good. Even my sister ate a piece. She hates sweet potato pie.

"I'm making nachos for Jordan. Do you want some?"

"Hecky yeah!"

"Good. You can help me fry them."

Damn! I had been hoodwinked. As my mother reclined at the kitchen table reading the paper, my sister and I set about the task of making nacho chips. I fried them as my sister balled up the dough and then flattened it with the cast iron skillet, cutting them into triangles. 1 1/2 hours later, chips overflowed the cookie sheet.

"I wonder how's Daddy's wine is coming along?"

"Good!" Dee said. She went and got the big pail of fermenting wine, scooping out a few cups, mashing the grapes, its nectar escaping. "I'll put the 'yum yum' back in."

"Just give me the wine," I said, holding out my glass. My mother swooped in, taking the freshly harvested wine and pouring some into an old barbecue sauce bottle. She put it in the freezer. "Hey, who is that for?"

"Your Father."

"How come he gets a whole bottle and I just get a little glass?" She ignored me as she poured yet another glass for my father and one for herself. "Dang, now we're gonna hafta dip some more," I whined.

"Stop being a lush. Besides, drinking too much wine will make you fat," she said as she returned from the family room, retaking her throne at the kitchen table and reading the paper. I think that she gets off on watching my sister and me cook. I know that I would. The tastiest meals are always the ones that you don't have to prepare. "Ooow!" Grease popped me.

I saw a little hand stealthily move out of the corner of my eye. "Jordan, stop stealing chips!" She giggled, running to the protective custody of Grandpa. He was not in the mood to provide sanctuary, for her squeals broke his concentration on the Bears game. "Whoa Jay! Stop all that hollerin'! What are you all doing to her in there?"

"Nothin' Daddy. She's in here stealing chips!" I told him.

"Leave her alone." Jordan returned to the kitchen and made a face of me, letting me know that she had bested me yet again. I lunged for her.

"Leave her alone Claudia! You're going to get her in trouble with Grandpa," my mother scolded me. "Come here Jor." She melted into her grandmother's arms, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out at me.

"Grandma?"

"Yes baby?"

"Do I have to eat the broken chips?"

"What?"

"Auntie said that she's gonna give me all of the little broken chips. I want some big chips too!"

"What? Give her some big chips."

"Ma, I said no such thing!" I fumed. "I'm gonna git you little girl. Your day of reckoning is fast approaching. Once you turn twelve and start doing things that you have no business doing, Auntie will have her due!" Leaning back against the sink as the nachos browned, I smiled pondering the glory of it all.

"Yes, those will be days... My shoes will be polished, my clothes ironed and pressed to perfection. You will wash my car and clean my room. And depending on the seriousness of your infraction, Auntie may even convince you that it would be in your best interest to surrender your allowance." Jordan looked at me, confused. "Oh, you do not understand now, but you will. I'm going to catch you doing everything that you have no business doing. If you don't want me to tell your Mama, you will certainly opt to accept many of the settlement plans that Auntie will present to you at that time."

"Your going to hide her sins from me?" D'mona asked, amazed.

"For the right price, yes."

"Stop blackmailing her Claudia!" Grandma snuggled her close. Jordan primed her crocodile tears. "Pay no attention to Auntie. She will do no such thing." Jordan sneered at me in victory. Leaving Grandma's arms, Jordan passed her little fist before each eye, threatening to blacken each of mine. She grabbed two chips and ran into her bedroom. I ran after her little tail. She had it coming.

"Claudia, I said leave her alone!" Mama said, rising from the chair.

I ran into the family room seeking refuge in my Daddy's arms. "Bobbie, leave her alone. Dawg! What are ya'll doin' in there? It's the fourth quarter!" I made a face at Ma. She walked away.

There is always a higher court.

Saturday

Another Saturday of hanging out at the office, editing the novel. I need a second job. I am not making it on my salary. I detest not having money to at least go out. Once again, a few days before payday I am flat broke. I cannot do this anymore.

But otherwise I am in a decent mood, isolating myself from others who are not. I need to figure out what to do. I know what I should do, but I do not have the heart to do so. I must figure out a way to free myself. I have to be free. I have been locked down for so long. I would like to travel, have a place of my own, perhaps even move to another city or country. But how can I?

Well, I will return to work, escaping into the world of my characters.

2012

I just saw the trailers for the new movie, 2012. I'll be damned if it was not a scene out of the final novel of my chronicles, Le Baton. In the trailer, a man races his home to save his family from he end time destruction, driving them to the landing strip, taking off as the earth engulfs Los Angeles. Wow. In my story, it is New Orleans, along with much of the Midwest which is destroyed, in order to consume Le Baton. In my story, it occurs in 2010. A little different, similar premise. Plagiarism but not.

I have spent the last few years of my life telling a story that has already been told. What was the point? Once again, I come up short with nothing to show for my efforts. It is all pointless.

Better Day

I am finally beginning to come out on the other side. Although a little irritated when leaving home this morning, my agnst has dissipated. Hopelessness is departing. Don't get me wrong, nothing has changed. Still bored, broke and frustrated. However I am hopeful today. I think that the sermon and the word that I received yesterday truly helped me.

I just wish to thank everyone who has prayed for and supported me over the past week. I still have a way to go, but at least I am better for today.

Charles Blanton

I would like to begin by extending my condolences to Raquel Blanton and her family concerning the loss of her Father, Charles Blanton. He was a longtime employee and union man for Electric Motors, since 1969 I believe. But more importantly, Mr. Blanton was a good man, a true provider, father, lover and friend. Raquel and I would always muse that God did not make men like our fathers anymore, who believed in taking care of home and raising families. But I suspect that there are few golden nuggets out there within our own generation, but I fear that they all may have been snatched up!

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
Matthew 5: 4

In any case, God rest your soul Mr. Blanton. Raquel, our prayers are with you and your entire family. The pastor gave a great eulogy for Mr. Blanton, honoring him while inspiring the living. Dare I say hope is trying to take ahold of me? What is this old soul coming to?

Anyhow, Mr. Blanton enjoyed wrestling. His love for the sport brought reminded pastor of Jacob wrestling with 'a man' all night until he blessed him (Genesis 32:24-32). Although 'the man' crippled his thigh, Jacob continued to hold to him, holding on to hope and faith. Finally, Jacob surrendered to his hope and faith, no longer struggling and wrestling. It was then that God blessed him. Mr. Blanton wrestled to the very end, overcoming Cancer and Diabetes. Although he surrendered to pnemonia, he wrestled to the end, refusing to let go until God blessed him and his family. Raquel I spoke about the moment he gave up(without realizing it), receiving the blessing that he had been waiting on for so long. Once God granted it to him, he let go, surrendering to the Peace, Comfort and Love of Christ.

I should take a note from Jacob and Mr. Blanton.

And to Mr. J Marshall who overheard me griping on the bus to my friends, thank you for the word that you gave me today. I will hold God to his promise. Wow, spooky. Kinda ties into the whole Jacob message. OK... Wow. God, did you really hear me in my time of despair, sending your angel to laugh with me and comfort me? Really folks, he told me to 'hold God to his promise' to make him accountable for what He promised me.

I've been down so long, I am not sure what He promised me anymore.

I do remember He promised a Love for me. A Son for me.

He promised a home for me.

He promised to save me.

He may have promised a ministry for me, but I was not real interested in becoming a preacher. I am sure that I blacked that part out. LOL

Mr Marshall, thanks for sitting in front of me and enduring my foul language today. I praise God that He brought you out of your valley within 6 months.

Perhaps I should lose the bitterness and anger and surrender to God, to hope and faith once more.