Weird, True Personal Facts About Me

1) My first cousin, Marshall, once asked me out on a date.

I said no. Well, I told him he was an idiot because he didn't recognize me and then I said no. I never liked blonds anyway.

2) I once punched myself in the face.

No, I'm not in a self-abusive relationship. I'm just clumsy as hell. I'm just glad I didn't knock myself out.

3) One winter not long ago, I ended up semi-naked in the snow in full view of my neighbors.

That was SO not my fault. BlackDog tricked me.

4) I met Jerry Seinfield.

He's short. Very, very short. And still not funny in person.

5) My Dad invited people to come watch me shower when I was fifteen.

Not on purpose, the old man walked in on my when I was showering. And Daddio being Daddio didn't notice the shower running. He opens his long johns and starts to pee. And he pees. And he pees some more. Just as he's finally leaving, he yells out the door 'Hey do you hear water running?" Everyone runs up and peers into the bathroom, where I'm in the glass door showered holding a six inch wash cloth.

6) I got a goat for my 12th birthday. I asked for a typewriter.

Enough said.

7) When I was 9 and my nephew 4, I taped him to a tree and tried to sell him back to his mother.

I watched a lot of terrorism on television, what can I say. I didn't amputate anything. So, I just cut off a little of his hair, it grew back. Eventually.

8) I once peed on my sister.

Blame my brother, he's the one who burned the house down. Blame my dad for moving us to a converted warehouse to live in. Blame my mother for making me share a bed with my sister. Blame the spider landing on my face in the middle of the night and scaring the pee out of me.

For some reason, my sister blames me. I was seven, I think I can get government pardon on those grounds, right?

9) My mom wouldn't let me cut my hair when I lived at home unless I agreed to get a poodle perm identical to hers. I declined. So I went to college with Amish hair. I looked like I was getting ready to be a third wife to a paunchy middle-aged polygamist.

So at college, I put my hair in a pony tail, braided it, and cut off 8 inches. My mother said I looked whory. Finally, I thought.

10) I never dated Tony Patton.

All three of my sisters dated Tony P., one of them was engaged to him. I escaped the curse due to a slutty waitress with size C knockers and questionable morals. Thank goodness for polyester hos in the service industry.

That's it, bunnies...for now.

LOL.

tirz

BlogTalk Radio

Have you ever wanted to host your own radio show?

Blog Talk Radio lets you listen, participate, or host your own internet radio show for free.

You know I develop the occasional technology addiction...lol, BlogTalk Radio is my latest one.

Have I hosted my own show yet?
Not yet but it's a possibility for the future. It's tempting to have your own show, now isn't it?

What do I do on BlogTalk Radio? I listen to an online poetry reading on Tuesday nights at 8pm. I participate in relationship debates on internet radio talk shows. I'm at times amused, sometimes irritated, other times amazed.

Some times I drop in on the psychic shows just to be amused, hah.

Do you have to sign up to use it?
You don't have to sign in to listen, you can just listen. I usually suggest starting with clicking the 'On Air' button and it'll show you three to seven pages of live shows. Some are awful, some are freaky, others are interesting. Keep trying different stations until you find one you like.

Most rooms start a chat room near the end of the show so you can post questions and talk to other listeners.

You can also call or Skype in.

What is Skype? It's a free Skype to Skype call. Skype is an online program you download where you can call other Skype people in the world for free. Sometimes the sound quality is bad, sometimes it's good. Video is possible but not required.

I'll talk about Skype again some other day.

Don't want to Skype? Just call into your show of choice using your cell phone.

Do you need to call in to listen?
No, you don't need to call in. If your computer has a microphone capability then you can listen to BlogTalk Radio. If you Skype, though, you'll need headphones.

If you don't have sound on your computer, call in using your cell phone. After 9pm, it should be free on most cell plans.

Anyway, BlogTalkRadio is fun. I hope to see your talk show posted soon.

How do I find the site?

Just click the link below:


BLOGTALKRADIO

tired

Some times, most of the time, I dread going home for visits.

Part of is that everyone treats me like I'm a slightly slow ten year old and I know I'm not. And part of it is that I have so few good memories from my mother's house. The few good ones I have are tainted.

My mother drives me crazy. I use to think I hated her. Now, she just makes me tired and depressed when I'm around her. I know (after years of therapy) that she doesn't mean to make me so hurt, crazed, angry, frustrated, tired, destructive. But just because she doesn't mean it, doesn't mean I don't suffer from her actions.

I feel like an animal in a trap when I'm around her. I just want to get away, anything I need to do to get away.

For days before and after wards, I'm emotionally uncertain, frazzled, easy to weep. My friends avoid my 'mom mood'.

And the town has too many places that make me sad.

The Super Quik gas station is where my nephew drove me on Christmas day because he wanted Freezee Pops and everything was closed. He'd been sick for over a year, on chemo. But damn, he made me laugh. I'd visit him either at home or the hospital and we'd talk and talk and talk. And laugh and laugh. Like me, he kept parts of himself private but I never felt separate from him.

As different as we were, we understood that about each other. He collapsed that Christmas night, never to wake up again. Dead at 27. He was five years younger than me. I miss him.

The house across the street is where my brother, Rickie, second wife lives. I see her there with her new husband, smoking and bbqing on her deck. Every front window of my mother's house faces that house.

The parking lot of the Elementary school is where he tried to teach me to drive a stick shift (without much success).

The drive-through was where he'd have me yell his orders into the box for him. They never could understand his speech impediment. Every beat up, rusty pick-up makes me think of him. He died at the age I am now. And he didn't die easy. He suffered.

The front room couch is where my brother, Eddie, use to tease me with ice-cream cups, it's where my mother told me he was dead. I remember. I had a chocolate chip cookie in my pocket, it was sunny but cool. My aunt picked me and my brother up at school. The sky was so blue. The house was so dark.

He died quick. He was there and then gone. His funeral is one of my earliest memories.

The picture window is where my father lay in his hospital bed, eating cherry Popsicles when ever my mother left the room. His clothes are still in the bedroom closets. His fedora still hangs on the pegs. The couch is where he took his naps and watched CNN for hours on end.

My bedroom is the room my grandmother bled to death in, hemorrhaging to death in her sleep. She wore black rimmed 50's glasses and blue flowered dresses with gum boots. Her favorite meal was fried chicken and red creme soda. She chewed tobacco when she thought no one was watching.

Ever room in that house makes me sad.

The town makes me sad.

My mother makes me crazy.

My siblings make tired most of the time because they still treat me like I'm nine. And no, I can't just let it go. I've tried.

I just hate going down there. I hate the person I am there. I hate I'm so sad there. I hate how those people make me feel. Like I'm small, stupid, ugly, alone. Alone. I never feel so alone as I do when I'm there.

I'm glad to come back to my house.

My dirty, cluttered little house where the static in my head stops and I'm finally at peace if only for a little while.

Why I am telling you this? I'm not really. I'm just being eaten up with words, with memories, with tears and I want it out of my head so I'm pouring in the page. I need it out of me.

Tirz

Poetry Book Website UPDATE

Hi Bunnies!

I know, I know, I've been a bit absent lately. Between my mother's knee surgery, my emotional humps/bumps, the non-stop venting from relatives, and a funeral, I just haven't been giving my blog or anyone else's any attention.

I'll be back soon.

On a happier note, my book website has been updated. I hope you'll drop in for a visit.

http://www.tirzahlaughs.com/

My poetry book, Love and Lighter Fluid, is available on the publisher's website now and it will be on Amazon in May.

No, you don't have to buy it.

LOL.

However, if you'd like to check out my book website or my podcasts, I'd adore it.

My podcasts are linked to the site (and on this one) but if you want something more direct, then go to

http://tirzahlaughs.podbean.com/

Since so many of my friends and family have children, I recorded a few of my kid's poems in with the grown-up poems.

Kids poems are:

Stevie Spinelli and His Fondness for Jelly
Sweet Marie
How to Wash an Elephant
I hope if you have kiddies, that they enjoy these podcasts too.

The other poems are for grown-ups only, sorry! But you can listen to them when you are alone.

Well that's all the time I have for the moment.

Toodles!

Tirz

Feeling Blue (Personal)

I'm feeling a bit wound and unhappy today.

I get these moods where my skin is too tight and my scalp is crawling. Tonight is one of those nights when I wish, I really wish I drank. I just want a vacation from my life, my thoughts. I just want to be out of this skin.

And I know that it's self-indulgent and whiny and self-destructive.

But you feel what you feel.

I know alcohol wouldn't fix anything, except that for three or four hours I could just be blank. I want to be blank. I think emotionally healthy people probably jog or meditate. I never claimed to be emotionally healthy.

Instead, I'll eat a bag of potato chips and listen to romantic comedies on television. It's not the fake Valentine holiday that has me down. I'm just disappointed in myself.

My writing is important to me. I've poured years into my work. I've written it, polished it, rewritten it. Then torn it apart and written it again. But it's not good enough. It's just not good enough.

Why do I lie to myself? I don't know.

I wonder if artists or musicians all feel like this. When they've bled and sacrificed everything only find out that they're the chorus, the piano bar, the advertising ink person, not the star. When they realize they'll never be the best or even one of the best. They're good, better than average but not good enough.

That hurts.

It's awful to know you're never going to reach your dreams. To know you've given up so much to get a chance of achieving your dreams only to find you've given it up for nothing.

To find that you're never going to fantastic.

That you'll be just slightly better than average no matter how hard you work or how much you desire it.

Gee, thanks. Exactly what I want engraved on my urn when I die..."Slightly better than average".

I've worked and worked and its for naught.

Should I just accept that this is all my life will mean? That this is it. A beige mediocre life where the only contribution I make is to fertilizer heap when I die?

Shouldn't there be more?

There should be something more.

I'm tired of being not enough.

Tirz

Love Yourself (Personal)

There's nothing wrong with being happily single. Valentine's Day seems to make so many people sad because they think they must be in a relationship to be happy. That isn't true. If you're in a wonderful, loving relationship that makes you feel good, then that's great.

But if you're happy with your own company, if you like spending time with your friends and by yourself, you may not miss having a significant other. Don't let a fake holiday make you miserable. It is better to be alone than in a bad relationship.

So many of my girl friends and even guy friends think that if they aren't in a couple then some how they failed. They constantly jump from one bad relationship to another because they're afraid to be alone or they think to be happy they must be in a relationship. This just isn't true.

It's not that I'm against romance or coupledom.

I'm against feeling miserable because I don't measure up to the Jones. No one should be made to feel less because they are romantically unattached. If you're happy as you are, be happy.

If you're not happy, figure out why you're miserable, and take steps to fix it.

Finding any random person who'll be your 'date' or boy/girl friend just so you have a body to attach yourself to is idiotic. If you find the right person, yes, it can make your life even sweeter. But most don't wait for that, they grab onto anyone who shows up and then complain the person isn't what they want.

Everyone seems to have this fantasy that there is a soul mate out there waiting for them. For some people, this might be true. But for others, it's not.

Not everyone finds their soul mate and that is okay. You can be blissfully happy just being alone. You can be happy being out with your friends.

If you really feel your life would be enhanced by sharing yourself with another person in a romantic relationship, then look for that person. Take your time. Find the RIGHT person, not just any person who'll say yes.

I'll tell you this, if you're broken or miserable, a relationship will not fix that.

You have to fix the broken parts of you first, THEN find someone.

Otherwise those broken edges will just scrape you both raw.

Work on you. Work on being happy. Make some new friends, get out, develop hobbies. Live your life. Give yourself the permission not date for awhile.

Don't worry about Valentine's Day and it's over reaching expectations.

Because when you're satisfied, happy, and keeping yourself open to possibilities, good things find you.

And if you want to date then do it from that position of knowing you are enough by yourself. If your a complete,content person who finds someone who make their life even sweeter, then go for it.

Love works when you are secure in yourself.

Then if the person isn't the right person, then you'll be confident enough to let them go on their way and not settle for 'Mr./Miss Right Now.

Love starts with loving yourself.

Sex With Your Mother...(Writing)

Sex with your mother...

You may wonder why I'm writing such a horrible title at the top of my blog. The thing I’m trying to convey is that a title is important to your book. A bad title, a boring title, or an inappropriate title can kill your book on the shelf before a reader even looks at it.

I'm pretty sure 'Sex With Your Mother' hits most of those.

The only thing worse that a bad title is using 'Untitled'. Even a work in progress needs a working title. Calling your book 'The Worst Book Ever' is better than Untitled. 'Spam' is better than ‘Untitled’.

When you’re talking your book up to agents or future readers, do you want to say ‘Yeah, Untitled will be done next year'. You can explain a name change better than not knowing your story well enough to name it.

But picking an eye-catching title isn't the only consideration. If you're writing a humor novel, you’re going to want to try to reflect that in the title. This is so shelf browsers will know by glancing at your book that it's a funny book.

You might call your funny book about social networking sites something like "Stop Twittering Me, I'm Facebooking!" or "Go Tweet and Die" depending on your tone.

Both of these titles reflect the content (social networking sites), the tone (funny), and garner attention (readers will browse those titles with interest).

Although you wouldn't think so, the title and cover of your book are almost as important as words inside the cover. Don’t believe me? Just ask the major car company that tried to sell a car called 'Nova' in Spanish speaking countries. Nova in Spanish is 'no go'. Who would buy a car called 'no go'?

Exactly. They titled the car wrong.

To help you pick a title, try the following exercises:

A) Reduce you plot down to one log line or a single line introduction. This isn't always possible but get as close as you can. What is important in that line? Then try to capture that in the title words.

B) Think of important dialogue or descriptive phrases from the book. Do any of them reflect the idea, feeling, or tone of the book? If you're character is prone to rolling her eyes and saying 'So What', that may be your title.

C) Avoid titles that are too generic or over used. Have you ever looked at a grocery shelf of formula romance titles? Do you remember a single title? No, you don't. Because almost every one of those titles is similar to eight other titles. "Seduced at Midnight' is not that different from "Seduced by a Duke"" or a "Duke Came at Midnight". They all smoosh together in your head into one big jumble.

D) Let some workshop friends read a few chapters and give you some titles they would pick. You may not use any of these titles but it'll give you an idea of how your book impresses on readers. It may inspire you. I don't suggest you use regular friends or family. Members of your reading circle or workshop group usually have a better idea of what works as a title since they are involved in the industry.

E) Lastly, try to pick a title that has something to do with your book. There is nothing worse than picking up a book thinking you have one thing (drama, comedy, erotica) and realizing you have something else (western, horror, religious).

And just to clear up any confusion, no one slept with your mother. Just ask her (go on, I dare you).

Podcasting

I did my very first podcast today for my poetry book. I know, I know I made you listen to my blurb about Windows Media Player but this is different.

(Well, actually, it's not all that different but I'm interested in it so there you go).

I've never done a podcast before. I've always thought it was one of those things that only radio personalities and technical people did. I was so wrong.

A friend of mine turned me onto the My Podcast website. I downloaded their recorder, bought a cheap microphone, and I was in business.

Check out the website at:
www.mypodcast.com

Cost: FREE

I'm horrible with new technology so I was surprised that within the hour I had recorded my first poem and had it loaded.

And I didn't even swear. Miracles never cease.

I recorded Mister, I Aint' Afraid fairly easily except for the dog constantly barking in the background. But how do you tell a deaf dog to shut up? I dunno.

I will probably re-record this poem again because it's a bit pitchy at the end but overall, I thought this first attempt was a success.

Mister (POEM)


What I liked about My Podcast:
*Easy to record.
*Ease of uploading.
*Quick to do.

What I didn't like:

*I couldn't adjust the recording when I got pitchy.

*Directions for subtle changes were a little vague. By this, I mean that on the recorder, I would drag the button back to re-record but what it didn't tell me was that I'd have to hit the rewind button to get the last 20 seconds. Several other small things like that ran me in circles for a bit. However, I quickly figured out the problem on my own and a solution.

*The files are ONLY offered in MP3 files.

Overall Score: 3.5 out of 5
If they add some sound editing this would easily be a 4.5 or a 5.

Technical Skill needed: 1.5
0 being no skill at all
5 being a technical genius

Time Needed: 1
0 being done under a ten minutes.
5 being five days later I'm still trying to figure it out.

I'm still on the lookout for a program that is as easy to use as this one but has better audio tools.

I'd also like one with better descriptions of what I'm doing before I do it.

Overall, this was a fairly easy way to podcast. If you want to try your hand at it, start here.

Or don't.

I'm easy. I won't make you do it.

Honest.

Tirz

Unused Book Titles (Humor)

Several of my writer friends have claimed there are no good titles left for their novels. So being the good friend that I am, I created this list of unused titles. I assure no one is using these novel titles.

Feel free to borrow one for your book.

Wild Rumba Bunnies
Enemas For El Salvador
A Different Flavor of Asshole

Letters to My Second Husband: Don't Screw This Up Like the First Guy
A Boob of A Different Color
Love Crunchies

God Called Me Stupid
A Knife In My Eye: Ouch
Big, Fat, and Fired

Naked to the Cankles: A Fat Girl's Need For Love
Stabbing Your Mother 149 Times: Ways to Deal With the Holidays
Drinking Piss: A Story of Survival in My Own Backyard

ChemoNation
I Love You For Your Brain: A Zombie Love Story
Your Baby's Ugly: And Other Truths about Motherhood

Toe Suckers Anonymous
Murder in the Missionary Position
Forked Tongues and Big Tails: A Guide to Being a Devil Chick

Praying for the Bomb
Prayers to Elvis' Banana
Love Letters To W.: A Tale of Political Enlightenment

A Gynecologists Guide to Finger Licking Foods
Tongue-Kissing The Dog and Other Bad Habits
Rich, Well-Hung, And Happy: Hollywood Lies

Plaid Panty Lines
Nippled: The Trap of Breast Feeding
While the Maid Vacuumed


And if you entitle your book any of these, I'll give you a dollar (Swear on my Elvis Bible).

Amazon and E-Book (Opinion)

I'm assuming you've all read about the Amazon and Macmillan Publishing brouhaha. If you haven't, let me summarize it for you.

Amazon sells e-books for $9.99. Macmillan Publishing wants Amazon to sell their e-books for 15 dollars. Amazon said no because they are trying to build their Kindle business and Amazon doesn't think their customers will pay fifteen bucks for an e-book.

(And they are right)

Amazon actually takes a small loss to post e-books for 9.99. Macmillan makes the same profit either way. So basically, Macmillan is trying to dictate to Amazon what the 'AMAZON' price for the book should be.

They've been negotiating and it fell apa rt so Amazon pulled all of the Macmillan books off their website when the talks crashed.

My Opinion

I think $9.99 is too much for an e-book. I think fifteen dollars is utterly ridiculous. You don't own an e-book. You can't transfer them to other readers or formats. You don't own the book. As you know from the problems with the 1984 book in 2009, your e-copy can be revoked at any time by the publisher.

I'll pay ten dollars for a paperback book because I can loan it out, keep it on my shelf to read later, or sell it. Once I read an e-book, it's worthless. Why should I pay the same amount for less?

And Macmillan Publishing has no right to tell Amazon what price to sell products for. Macmillan can price the content to Amazon at whatever price they like, but what Amazon sells it for is their business.

But I also think that yanking all of the Macmillan books off the electronic shelves is petty and the act of a bully (But that's another issue).

For me, it all boils down to this, I won't pay more than ten bucks for an e-book. I just won't. I don't want to pay ten bucks. I think six dollars is about the right price. After all, the publisher isn't printing anything, shipping anything, or storing anything.

As a writer, I know the writer gets very little from the e-sales. Plus, most writers just want to be read, many would sell e-books for less than print.

So where is all this money going? To bolster the failing print sales and line the pockets of publishing companies.

Everyone knows the Jobs just came out with the iPAD. Macmillan is trying to get Amazon to increase their prices to match they cost the iPAD will sell the e-book for. Gee thanks.

For that, I get a reader named after a sanitary product and I get to pay more for a book I don't own.

That helps Macmillan and Jobs, it doesn't do a thing for me.

I've been wanting a Kindle or a Sony e-reader but now I'm reconsidering. Do I want to invest that much into something that will end up costing me more in the long run?

Tirz