A Celebrity Picture Story

I know you all have been wondering where I've been for the past week. Not.

Tim and I visited Washington D.C. and met my sister and brother-in-law there along with a childhood friend and her husband. We showed up on the red carpet, under-dressed for the occasion I'm sure. But it was fun and nobody said a word about our attire. As a matter of fact, they were pretty stunned to silence. It was awfully quiet!

Firstly, we were greeted by the lovely Marilyn Monroe, just as gorgeous as ever. What do you mean she's dead? Look at her! She's literally singing Happy Birthday, Mr. President.

And by the way, after she greeted the philandering...er, President and First Lady, I made it a point to encourage the two iconic figures to enjoy our company. They could hardly refuse.

I'll try not to annoy you too much, Mr. President.

When you start mingling with the heavy duty crowds like the political figures, they get a little uppity at times and think they can run you off by making you feel like you don't belong, but Tim fixed that very quickly. You have to treat his wife (that's me) like excellency or you'll be the one high tailing it out of there. Get it?

Beware, I have a lighter in my pocket.

Anyway, egos flared, tempers culminated into a standoff, but soon enough all was well and we moved on. Why? Because, someone got Tim's attention and his man hairs settled into a nice down pelt.

So this is how you're supposed to treat them...

Julia Roberts made sure he felt at home in the star-studded atmosphere. Watch it, Missy. I can assure you he's not going without a fight. I have to warn you, I pull hair and it hurts. Plus, he doesn't like big teeth.

So now I'm forced to lure my man away from the clutches of the tooth fairy and what better way than to have Mr. Clooney propose to me!

Sorry, Amal, but I think he just got tired of your good looks and humble attitude. I promise you, I won't be signing a pre-nup. There's a price for everything, but I'm priceless. Ask Tim.

Why yes, George, but the pre-nup is a no go.

Alas, I cannot compete with these Hollywood types. They come out of nowhere! How do I show Tim that I'm the better catch? I don't have the money, the fans, the looks, the ASS. I mean look at THAT!

He DID put a ring on it!

Beyonce's got all that, plus a mean ass look on her face. Does she have to rub it in so nastily? Men will be men, I guess. A warning to you lovely ladies out there. A cheater is always a cheater. If he does it to me, he'll do it to you. You haven't won anything! You'll see. Karma's a bitch.

Mmmhmmm. Go on, girl!

So what do we do to keep our marriages going? How do we compete in a world filled with people who believe that beauty is the catch-all when it comes to mating? We put our men in the field, that's what we do!

Sharing strategy!

Keep them busy. Allow them to compete and play hard. There are plenty of sports for them to get involved in and to help blow off testosterone.

Sharing jabs!

Soon enough, they will be so busy patting themselves on the back, shaking hands with their competitors.

I thoroughly enjoyed kicking your ass at Mario Brothers.

They will encourage one another, build future bonds, and share fist bumps.

 and all the while...back at the fortress....we're helping out as best we can to make this a better place, opening lines of communication, and sharing knowledge.

You missed a comma. See, right there.

We're bringing our passions to the table and opening our worlds to younger geeks who are eager to contribute!

See that? It's an integral. Amazing stuff!

Seriously, I had no idea this would turn into a "making progress in our relationships" type of post, but there you go!

And, that's a wrap!

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Things Got Ugly at PCB

We're in Panama City Beach this week, so if I missed posting anything for you, you now know why! Actually, I felt an urge to share something with you. Knowing I love to break rules whenever I have the chance, I thought you might enjoy my latest display of rebel awesomeness.

These were my own empties. Multiple rules were broken on this evening.

1. Alcoholic beverages were consumed in the spa
2. Motrin for our aching backs were consumed before entering the spa
3. No adult supervision existed for the lot of us
4. We did not seek consultation from our respective doctors as they were not available

Then we made it out to Coyote Ugly where most of us rode the mechanical bull. I didn't make it onto the bull, mainly because I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I discovered the next morning, I'd found myself on the bar instead. So much for making of the fool.

Here's my son Cameron's attempt at mastering the beast. Sorry, but I have confiscated and destroyed all videos pertaining to the bar.

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My Grandson Meme - Caption Contest!

This is our grandson, Levi. My stepson Timmy and his wife Kelly brought Levi with them on a visit to Tallahassee. We had a wonderful time showing them around and we even took Levi on his first boat ride ever!

Here he is, on the boat with Mommy and ready for some action. He's always pointing with the one finger and we couldn't understand what it meant. But will you look at the expression on his face?

I've decided to create a meme and capture the moment. This is what I think is being conveyed here.

Please join me for this caption contest. Simply provide yours in the comments below. The prize? An opportunity to post about your work in progress, an upcoming release, or a guest article here at Are We There Yet? I know, I know! Don't get all excited there. [insert sarcastic emoticon here]

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Photo Story - My Vacation in the Bahamas

We're back!


Just a brief lesson to you about traveling outside the United States -- You will be roaming the entire time!

I didn't realize how much I would miss my texting and being able to instantly send photos to friends and family. But, at least now I am able to share a little of the Bahamas with you, because my character of the day is Miss Eloise. Well, that's what I'm calling her as I didn't get permission to use her real name because I didn't know I was going to blog about her until just now. No, really. I didn't.

Miss Eloise is an 82 year old Bahamian woman who has lived her entire life in Georgetown, Bahamas, which is where we stayed (at the Sandals Emerald Bay resort). It's a place I will recommend to anyone planning to make that trip. It's the most popular resort in Georgetown according to our guide, Miss Eloise.

View from our room

When she first loaded us up into her large SUV at the airport and before she proceeded forward toward the resort, she paused and said in her thick Bahamian accent, "Welcome to the Bahamas." Her voice was crackled with age, but she seemed well animated and passionate about her country. It was dark out, so I couldn't see her well enough to tell her age, but the shaking in her voice gave me a little hesitation and I was honestly hoping she wouldn't keel over while driving us to the resort.

She didn't keel over. We made it!

She gave us each a business card with the name and number to her taxi services. We wouldn't pull this card out until the last full day we were to stay on this beautiful island. When we called her, she was delighted to pick us up and take us out to the docks where we would ride in a water taxi to Stocking Island, but first she showed us around the surrounding areas and gave us a little history of the place.

Miss Eloise's accent was so beautiful, and with the age and wisdom in her voice, I felt mesmerized. It was like I was in a movie and the narrator was right beside me walking me through it. Then I realized I wouldn't have wanted anyone else narrating but her.

A small, brown snake slithered between two planks on the walkway leading toward the ancient tombs we'd come to witness. I stopped, "Is it safe to go back there?"

"It's okay, darling." Her accent strung out the word darling and it reminded me of Eva Gabor in Green Acres. "Those snakes won't harm you."

They didn't harm us, but they were everywhere. Even one popped out of a stony piece of ruin at the base of the tombs. I'm not lying. I have the picture to prove it. See, I knew you might question me on this. I was close enough to get some detail.

They should have named the place Tomb of the Snakes!

When we were finished touring the area of Georgetown, Miss Eloise drove us to the water taxis and called out to a large Bahamian man, "Elvis, darling! Take my friends to the island, will you man." And he did. He asked what time to pick us up and we told him around 3:00 p.m. because it was only 10:00 a.m. and we wanted to enjoy all the stuff there was to do and discover on Stocking Island. Then he nodded and left.

Let me share this with you. Stocking Island isn't like the boardwalk of things to do like we have in the States. When you go to an attraction here in the US, there are actually things that "attract" you as in things to do. Remember this, because the only thing to do on Stocking Island is hang out at the Chat n' Chill…when it's open, which it was not.

Stranded with nothing to do!

I think everything would have been fine had we arrived when the place was open. It was as if we were on a deserted island, only there was an audience to watch us as we wandered around in awe that we had absolutely not a thing to do. Yes, there were sailboats anchored in the water, EVERYWHERE! And there were probably people on those boats laughing their asses off at the only two people on the entire island, looking dumbfounded as we certainly felt.

However, no worries! After about an hour of wandering around, we went back to the Chat n' Chill and thank the heavens above there was a boat and some people unloading supplies of food and beer and marching them up the beach and into the small building that is the Chat n' Chill.

Nothing to do but take photos

"Excuse me, but what time do you open?" Tim asked one of the unloaders.

"Eleven O'clock," the kid offered as he marched up the steps.

I looked at my watch. Yes! It was 11:15 a.m. so we went inside and got a Diet Coke. When I asked about food, the bartender told me the kitchen wasn't open yet and they needed another hour to prepare. So, there were two things to do at that moment. Hang out with my husband in the Chat n' Chill and drink a Diet Coke. Ain't that fancy. You know me. I didn't care that it was before noon.

"Bartender? I think I'll have a Kalik Light." If there's one thing I know how to do when there's nothing else around is have a good time.

And finally, to drink some Bahamian beer...

Cheers!

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A Valentine For My Readers!

I will be away beginning today, Valentine's Day, for 5 days. We are heading to the Bahamas! But, I'm not leaving without giving you, my readers, this Valentine's Day Note.

Remember this!

1. Without you, I would not be inspired.
2. Without you, this blog would not exist.
3. Without you, I would float away from the blogosphere, because I would have nobody with whom to share my words.

BUT! With you, we will create more magic when I return! Keep the blogosphere on fire (fire being said in the voice of Arnold Schwarzenegger). I will be reading your material at my leisure, while on the beach.


Happy Valentine's Day!


I will miss you all.


With love, Diane

Nom, nom, nom!

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Don't Just Get Drunk - Get Ugly

This is an old post I had to remove because the Facebook embed video functionality broke. Now there's a link instead. Watch, listen, and enjoy.

Today's Character of the Day, The Bull Rider!

Well, I'm heading out on vacation for the next two weeks. I'll still post when I have a chance, but I wanted to leave you with this video. But Diane, it doesn't have anything to do with writing or making progress!

You're right, it doesn't. This guy apparently isn't making ANY progress. But since this was taken at Coyote Ugly in Panama City Beach while on vacation, I thought it a nice reminder of how much fun it will be to vacation again after a whole year! Now THAT's progress.

Anyways, enjoy the video. In case you're curious, I admit, that is me you will hear, laughing hysterically. Signing off and wishing you well!

If the video doesn't display, no worries. See it here.

In case you're wondering why we were recording and laughing, it's not because he wasn't making progress in his attempts to ride the bull. I rode that bull the same evening. Trust me, it's hard! The fun in it all was he claimed to have ridden one in Texas...of which he boasted having held on for 6-8 seconds. Imagine our shock! :D



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The Unreliable Narrator's Uneventful Flight

Most people who know me understand I don't do well flying in airplanes. That's why whenever I'm prescribed Hydrocodone after a dental procedure or any other painful injury, I save those pain killers for days like yesterday, a day that could have been the worst day of my life. That's right, I flew in an airplane...while on dope.

I take a pill just before the security checkpoint where they make you spread your legs and put your hands in the air so all the TSA agents can gawk at you in all their power, glory, and cheesy outfits. After the full body scan is complete, the guard waves me through without a hitch. I giggle slightly because my daughter is pulled aside for further inspection. Apparently, her Miss Me jeans were too blingy.

I have this well planned out, because it's the third time I've traveled in this state of mind. I take a pill about 30 minutes before take off and I'm good to go, usually laying over either in Charlotte or Atlanta. The hour or two delay in either city's airport is not a problem as they have establishments serving up draft beer, which puts a loopy spin on the pain killer.

The second flight boards at 8:15 p.m. and I'm feeling relaxed. Matter of fact, flying is a breeze. Why anyone would have a problem with flying is beyond me. I check out all the nervous passengers and give each a wide smile. Some I wink at, "I got this. Piece of cake." They stare back at me, worry on their faces. I reassure them, everything is going to be fine.

Flight takes off. All is good. My daughter has the seat behind me. The flight will be fifty two minutes according to the flight attendant speaking over the intercom. There must be fifteen babies on this flight, all crying in unison. The more babies on the flight, the less likely the plane will go down. Why? Because God loves babies.

The intercom system activates again and we are promised  refreshments shortly.

Perfect. I order a Miller Lite. The attendant is super nice. Positive vibes rub off.

The lady next to me orders apple juice for her 10 year old son and a Diet Coke for herself. Her son spills both, but I'm cool as a cucumber and drink my beer.

I feel a couple bumps and drops and people around me look at each other and all around. But I'm good. I smile and nod at a few. They turn away, holding the arms of their chairs a little too tightly. The babies even stop crying and it is as if everyone is holding their breaths. Not me. I'm cool as a cucumber.

Then my daughter touches my shoulder from behind, "Mom, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

A few hours later, the alcohol leaves my system and we're in our hotel room. My daughter is bewildered and appears animated while talking about our flight. Apparently, the plane had an unusual amount of turbulence and people on the plane were freaking out. I would have been one of those people had I not saved up my pain killers like a squirrel creating their stash of acorns for the winter.

What on earth does this have to do with making progress? A year ago, we would have wasted 12 hours driving to our destination. I've learned to be more efficient with my time. Though I do not condone the use of prescription medication for purposes which they are not prescribed, on occasion, I put the finger to such policies for the sake of my own comfort. To me, that's progress!

P.S. This is a fictitious character telling the details of our flight to Roanoke. I refuse to incriminate myself. It's fiction with a little bit of truth. Call it the unreliable narrator. ;)



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Halloween in Salem Massachusetts

I wanted to celebrate this Halloween season by sharing a spooky story, but instead, I decided to make a trip to Salem, Massachusetts and visit the Witch Trial Wax Museum. I’ve been asked by many, “What’s in Salem?”

History!

Did you know that the damning evidence used in the Salem Witch trials to convict these innocent men and women who were then condemned to hang at the gallows was this thing called spectral evidence? That means young girls (witnesses) accused certain people of casting evil spells upon them and the way they identified the person is they testified they saw the person in a non-physical state. It was thought that the only way they could present themselves in this form is by making a deal with the devil.

These witnesses would be on display in the courthouse, possessed, screaming out that they were being targeted in the very room where the accused stood trial. Anyone familiar with the Manson trial and the gaggle of young women who claimed Manson spoke to them in their minds from where he sat while they testified? Spooky.

Spectral evidence alone in many cases ensured the so called “witches” hung for their crimes. The fear spread quickly throughout Salem and 20 people were executed for practicing witchcraft before the governor ceased the trials. Why did he put an end to the trials? Because his wife, as well as a few other prominent citizens, were accused. Imagine that.

According to a local museum, to this day, only one judge has made apologies for this unfortunate historical tragedy, and only one of the “witnesses” expressed sorrow for her part in this fiasco. Amazingly enough, we find out this all started from the isolation of three women, Sarah Good, a homeless person, Tituba, a slave, and a woman named Sarah Osborne, who remarried to an indentured servant.

Local magistrates tossed the three accused women in jail and the folks of Salem discovered the power wielded in the accusations of witchcraft. Thus began the wildfire that spread from the underlying family feud between the Putnams and the Porters. Fueled by fear and mass hysteria, things had obviously gotten out of hand, especially when prominent citizens had fingers pointing at them.

How did you spend your Halloween? Trick or treating? Giving out candy? What about haunted houses? We went through this one.

I never screamed so loud in my life. Spooky scary! No lie.

Labor Day Mission and Mishap

I woke up this morning, Labor Day 2013, to find I'd neglected to share my experience with you of my visit to the wonderful city of Savannah, GA. While attempting to compile a post and provide pictures from my wonderful vacation, I noticed the warming temperatures in my home. Yes, the air conditioned atmosphere I'd been privileged to know the entirety of my life has been taken away, though temporarily (I hope). I'll have to call a technician tomorrow, during non-holiday hours, of course.

In the meantime, while I sweat profusely in my newly transformed 1,630 sq. ft. oven, because the thunderstorms are preventing a nice, cool dip in the pool, my husband approaches me with the question, "Can I get you to help me with something?"

OH, LO AND BEHOLD! That means he's done started something which must be completed by the end of the day or I'll not get any sleep, let alone any writing done.

I follow him to the bedroom, but not before making a brief stop in front of the oscillating fan we'd set up in the living room. This gives me some relief, but it doesn't tame the rising temperatures produced by the blazing Florida sun.

When I finally arrive at the door of the master bedroom, I am witness to piles of 15 years worth of historical relic, which has been displaced, meaning everything which occupied our walk-in closet had been transferred into our bedroom and onto every available surface you can possibly imagine: bed, floor, windowsill, dresser, name it.

He places hands on hips and says, "I need your help. What can we toss and what do you want to keep?"

ARRRRGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm talking everything from 1995 letters of recommendation from old bosses, old text books and book club membership collectibles, to pictures, report cards, closed accounts, five purses filled with receipts, missing social security cards (2), and my old passport I never declared as lost when I got my new one. What is wrong with this man? Doesn't he realize you don't start this sort of mission on LABOR DAY and WITH NO AIR CONDITIONING??!

Am I angry he asks...

Yes, but I still love you. Happy Labor Day!

So, how did you spend your Labor Day? Did you work? Did you sweat? Or, did you actually relax and enjoy your time off?

On Vacation in the Keys

We will soon be returning from our vacation in the Keys. It was in celebration of our 26th wedding anniversary. A great time it was too, and I’ll have pictures to share this weekend. Miss you all out there in the Blog-o-sphere!

See you real soon. A teaser for all my writer friends out there: we visited Ernest Hemingway’s home.

Another Picture Story With Oil Paintings

Tim and I visited the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens last weekend while on a short getaway hiatus. Sometimes you have to break from the humdrum of coming up with new material and just let it come naturally. So please excuse my latest digression with my Xtranormal hack last week. Though it came about naturally, it was a bit gratuitous.

I now present to you the beauty I found in Jacksonville Beach. I will comment briefly on each piece of art and why I liked it. Forgive me, but I did not document the artists' names for each of these. Some are from the same era, others you will know they were created by the same artist.

Here we go!

These are oils on canvas, which garners a great deal of respect being I used to paint with oils. The artists here depict so much in their paintings, it's impossible for me to get it right, not having been part of the different eras. But, doesn't it look like the women and the animals are doing all the work? What's up with the two men relaxing and enjoying this leisurely ride? Get off your asses and do something. Holy crap.

This is a lovely picture below. Is it vanity? I guess if she were in the presence of others, this might be considered a bit off color. Wait, this reminds me of the present day. Yes, she looks like every other person in a restaurant obsessing over their phones.

Seriously, I immediately felt like the painting was of a prostitute because back in these days, I wouldn't think that hookers would be out on the street. They would be hidden away like this, in their rooms, waiting on the gentlemen to come calling. Is this not your impression?

The portrait below haunts me for some reason. Tim says it's her eyes. I'm convinced it's the flowers. It's like she's barely holding onto them, and they're wilted. She's happy, but sad. Freaky combination, but it works.

The ladies in the painting below are not prostitutes. They are wealthy women.

But, how do you know this, Diane?

Because poor women would be at home cooking dinner for the family, and prostitutes are hidden upstairs in pink, frilly garments.

Another prostitute? I'm not hung up on ladies of the night, it's just that women are depicted differently in social situations or when there's work to be done, in which case their breasts are exposed (go look at that first painting again if you don't recall).

When alone, they appear sad and reflective. I'm starting to develop a theme here and it's not the type of theme I'm liking.

This girl ain't having that. Just look at the expression on her face. Doesn't it look like she's seeing the same theme? Is she trying to tell me something here? Is that little girl tired of doing all the work while her little brother runs off to the streets to play stick-ball or to the river to fish? Indeed!

Well, I hope you enjoyed these pieces of art as much as I did. Whatever story they tell, it would be different each time. Try it, I think you will have fun. Start with the first painting. What's going on in that picture? Then with each picture that follows, what do you see?

The title of this picture story? Admit First, Liberate Second.