RedHead Confetti

I love to cook. I treat recipes like vague outlines (except for baking, you gotta follow those pretty close!). I try a little of this, and a little of that, and "what if I add this". Sometimes it doesn't work out, but usually I get something pretty damned nice. When you experiment with food, you have a good idea for what will be good together, and what you should avoid (like chocolate and orange is always good, but orange and mint is gross!) I never did like cooking before, because my ex was very combative about food. If it wasn't ramen noodles spiced with so much chili pepper that your nose ran breathing in the same room, or spaghetti with meat balls, or take away pizza, he didn't want it. So my experimentation with food had to be done on a smaller scale, me and the kiddos. Now, however, I can throw something in the crock pot, and my Love will nod to himself, and usually eat it-- unless there are a lot of veggies in. He really doesn't dig veg. He cooks w...

Trigger Warning: This post is about the purity myth, the protection of virginity at the cost of a girl's self-esteem and self-worth, it's about my sexual experiences as a teen, and how it warped shit badly for me. It's also how I got through it. If sexually active teens offends, or talking about a non-consensual sexual experience will set off your triggers, please don't read this. I'm OK now, and I will unpack rape later, I gloss over it here, because it isn't important to my central premise. If you haven't heard of it before, I urge you to read the book by the same name by Jessica Valenti. She talks about how difficult it is for women in today's society, either we're Madonna or Whore. We're either virgins, or have “lost something precious”. It's fascinating, horrifying, and there's even a short docu that I watched.  What got me thinking about this, though, how it touched me, was nothing more than a random thought last ni...

I wrote this for a class assignment back a few years ago. We were asked to concretely describe an abstract emotion or situation in our own lives. Given that I am a depressive, this is something with which I'm intimately acquainted: explaining what the fuck is wrong with me. Explaining how depression works is difficult; no, I don't lay in bed, and no, I don't want to kill myself-- but yes, I hurt everywhere, and can't even get up the motivation to read a take-away menu, that's pretty hard stuff to explain to world that doesn't experience it. I don't think this piece will be triggering for anyone. It's very descriptive, almost a fictional feel to it. If it ends up triggering something, let me apologise now! I would hate to cause anyone to fall down that hole of self-hatred. This is my explanation to you, my readers: this is what my Depression is like, and how no matter what it looks like, I'm not cured . I never will be cured. I will feel bet...

This one is going to be short because I just don't have words enough to describe how I feel. Let's start with: " An Oklahoma lawmaker files a bill to ban the making and selling of food or products that use aborted human fetuses ." No, this isn't an Onion story, although the abortion-itorum/fun park was a good one. Some guy, in Oklahoma just ruined my hope for Southerners, and made me glad my state hasn't done that. "At least we're not Oklahoma" I can say-- and given that I live in a state that is run by troglodytes, well, it's usually, "At least we're not Mississippi". Yeah, not good when someone in Arizona says, "At least we're not..." The story continues,"State Senator Ralph Shortey says he's done research and found reports that companies have used stem cells in the research and development of food. “I don’t know if it is happening in Oklahoma, it may be, it may not be.  What I am saying is ...

Today was a toss up, I wasn't sure what I was going to write about until I got up and started perusing the news. I try to write one day ahead, so I can get it spell checked, but I was at a loss. I kinda wanted to write about my decision to go into the Army, and I wanted to tell a funny story about one time when I was dancing, but I also thought I would talk about the State of the Union address that was on last night (Tuesday, 24 January) because the Constitutional, “From time, to time” always makes me smile. Or I thought, maybe about Representative Gabrielle Giffords officially resigning today; she was my Rep until we bought the house. So I've followed her rehab closely and bawl like a baby when I see her smiling. So I resolved not to think about it, and go about my morning; get the kids off, get my breaky (toast with honey, yum!) take my Pill at 8, brush my teeth, and hair, you know, the usual things. To be completely frank, if I don't do the morning exactly the same w...

I participated in NaNoWriMo last November (National Novel Writing Month). I wrote my fingers off, and actually came up with a decent story. I took a couple months off, and then went back and edited it. There are always little formatting glitches, wrong usage, and words like "not eh" that ought to be "no the" but the spell checker doesn't catch it. It should be available though Pay As You Exit Publishing by Valentine's Day, or the week after, and I'm super excited about it.  So, without further ado, a sneak peak from my novel, Journal Into Madness, a detective noir/Lovecraftian horror set in modern time. Prologue She walked into the small loft, fairly wreaking with curiosity. No one had ever called her, specifically, to a crime scene before. Stepping daintily over the stacks of books, and around the boxes, she was drawn ever closer to the center of the room, this office at the top of the stairs in an old carriage h...