Learning to Use The Word: No

Who are you?  Or maybe I should rephrase to:  Who am I?  Do you ever wonder about that?  Who you are…really?  I know I’m a wife.  I know I am a mother.  But what does that really mean?  Is that the answer to who? 

I like to think I am a good person.  I am loving and giving and extremely loyal.  I will knock myself out trying to help a friend.  I will bend over backwards for people.  I am a bit of a miser, simply because I have been poor and I have been hungry and as Scarlet would say:  I’ll never go hungry again!  I listen and I try very hard to not judge.

These same things that make me a good person are the same things that make me a chump.  I give more than I should of myself and my time and my energy to the point that I run myself down.  I'm not talking money.  I keep giving to people that really don’t deserve my time simply because, I have faith in them that they are a good person…deep down…maybe way deep down.  However the past few weeks I have come to the conclusion that I may be wrong on this. Maybe some people just suck.  They don’t have any good in them at all, and I ‘m tired of trying to find it or wait for it to show itself.

Sounds somewhat sad doesn’t it?  Actually, it’s a good thing.  There is a saying:  Never push a person to the point where they just don’t give a crap anymore.  Welp, I’m there.  And I have to tell ya, that not caring anymore about some things, is a bit freeing.  Who knew?  I sure as heck didn’t.  I always thought that if you aren’t giving to people, you aren’t a good person.  Well, the fact of the matter is, most of the people taking and taking and taking, don’t need…they want.  I had to learn the difference.  I had to grow and learn and realize that giving to the point of being taken advantage of is not what that means.  Giving to people that actually deserves my time and my care is.  Maybe deserve isn’t the right word, but there are plenty of undeserving that are now on the list. 

Does this mean I will stop giving in general?  Nope.  It means, that I will be more “miserly” in my giving.  Do they actually NEED or are they just selfish twits that have no idea or desire on how to be a grownup?  The wallowers, the lazy, the vain and narcissistic.  Does this mean I will not be a nice person anymore or that I will be spiteful and mean.  Nope, it just means that I am learning to use the word:  NO.  It’s such a small word, but oh so powerful.  I think I like it. 

So who are you?  I’m not sure anymore of that answer myself, but I’m learning.  Every single day, I’m learning. 

I’m out next week at a convention.  I’ll catch up on the 16^th.  

Summer of Zombie 2014 SPOTLIGHT ON: Mark Tufo

Summer of Zombie 2014 SPOTLIGHT ON: Mark Tufo

1.         What is your latest zombie release?

Zombie Fallout 7 - For The Fallen - October 2013

Zombie Fallout 8 - Tentative Release is August 2014

 

2.         Quick description of it (no spoilers)

Well there’s zombies.

3.            Something unique about it.

Michael Talbot (that will make more sense once you hopefully get the first book)

4.         Links for people to purchase it.

http://www.amazon.com/Mark-Tufo/e/B002I7PJ68/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1400286341&sr=8-2-ent

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/mark-tufo?store=allproducts&keyword=mark+tufo

5.         Your promo links.

marktufo.com

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mark-Tufo/133954330009843

http://zombiefallout.blogspot.com/

6.         Your short Bio.

Mark Tufo was born in Boston Massachusetts. He attended UMASS Amherst where he obtained a BA (and an advanced degree in partyology) and later joined the US Marine Corps. He was stationed in Parris Island SC, Twenty Nine Palms CA and Kaneohe Bay Hawaii. After his tour he went into the Human Resources field with a worldwide financial institution, after beginning his climb up the corporate ladder he found himself laid off. His wife, Tracy who was desperate to keep him out of her hair dared him to write a book, and the Zombie Fallout series was born.

He wrote the first installment of the Indian Hill trilogy in college, it sat in his garage until July 2009 when he published it on Kindle. Mark is currently working on the continuation of the ZF series and a new book due out in June of 2014. He lives in Maine with his wife, three kids and two English bulldogs.

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The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2014, with 33 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don't miss an interview, guest post or teaser… and pick up some great swag as well! Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #SummerZombie

https://www.facebook.com/events/286215754875261/?ref_newsfeed_story_type=regular&source=1

AND so you don't miss any of the posts in June, here's the complete list, updated daily:

http://armandrosamilia.com/2014/06/01/summer-of-zombie-blog-tour-2014-post-links/

Angry World?

Is it just me, or does it feel like the world is just a whole lot angrier now, than it used to be?  People have less patience, and seem to be more demanding.  I think of all the people that you see railing at the poor McDonald’s worker.  “How hard is it to push a button!?”  Well, it’s easy to push a button, but that one worker, that is being screamed at, did nothing but place the order and take your money.  There is a bagger, the person that grabs it all up and stuffs it into a bag.  There is the “chef” (which I use the term loosely), who makes the main products, such as the burgers or chicken sandwiches, or whatever.  Then you have the frier, and the drink maker.  If one person gets it wrong, in the entire line of people trying to get your order together, the only person getting yelled at is the one that has basically nothing to do with it.  Whenever I see the irate, I always wonder, did they never work fast food?  I think that should be a requirement in life.  Everyone must work a fast food or customer service type job while a teenager for at least one year.  I think the world would be a nicer place if you realized what a crappy and thankless job it is. One full of angry people over a burger that cost but a few bucks.  It’s not a national crisis people.  Take a breath. 

I drive to and from work, daily.  I can’t tell you how many times in one day that I see that one furious driver screaming out their window, flipping people off, honking horns, and weaving insanely through traffic.  Why are they so angry?  If they are late, how is that my fault or the fault of the little old lady up in front, that is just trying to get to her doctor’s appointment.  She by the way left a half an hour early, just to be sure she wasn’t late.  People say, you just don’t understand.  Oh, believe me, I do.  I schedule my day in minutes.  It takes me 20 minutes to get home, if I am lucky 18.  It takes me 15 minutes from there to the dance studio and then 12 minutes from the studio back to work.  That means I can use my lunch hour to work around dance classes.  If I can time it right, I may just end up with 5 whole minutes to scarf down a bologna sandwich to get through the day.  As I said, I schedule by the minute.  If I get behind the little old person that is going 35 in a 55, well then I most likely wont get my sandwich, however, I will still be on time and I will still have my daughter where she needs to be, all the while enjoying the fact that I have a car and that I am able to do it. 

I have been called “Pollyanna” more times in my life than I care to admit, however, I am a whole lot happier, thinking on the bright side of things, rather than sitting in the stew of the bad.  Am I always the happy person?  No.  Of course not, but I refuse to let the things I can’t control rule my life.  I refuse to ruin someone else’s day, because mine isn’t going so well. 

This is what is on my mind today.  Nothing to exciting, but there you have it.  

Summer Vacation

Welcome to the first real day of summer vacation…well not for me as I am an adult and have a job, but for all the school children in my area, it’s eleven weeks of freedom!  This is both good and bad for a parent.  It’s good, as you don’t have all the: “Is your homework done?” “What do you want for lunch?  Are you buying or packing?”  “Is your activity bag ready for after school?” moments.  However now you have the: “I’m bored.”  “Can I …?”  “There’s nothing to eat in this house.” “No, go outside and play!” moments instead.  Not to mention that you still have activities such as summer dance, or tennis camps, or library events, or swimming lessons.  I love summer for the sunshine and the warm and the days of the smell of fresh grass and dirt.  I hate summer for all the stress and unscheduled days of anxiety.  Chaos is not my friend. 

The fact that I do not thrive in an unscheduled real world is quite strange for me, as I definitely thrive in a unscheduled novel writing atmosphere.  When an idea hits, I don’t sit down and outline it all out.  I sit down and start writing and figure out along the way where my characters want to go.  If I get stuck or have to do a bit of research, I stop and get done what needs done, then I go back to writing full speed ahead.  I like the chaos of writing.  I like being as surprised as the reader with regard to where the story goes and who dies and how it all ends.  I have said once or twice or fifty times, that if I sit down and figure out all the action and events that are to come, what’s the point of writing the story then?  I already know how it ends. 

In life though, my real world, bill paying, laundry doing life, I need the schedule.  I don’t want to be surprised.  I want to know where I am going, at what time and who I need to make sure is with me, along with how much money I am going to need.  Don’t get me wrong; I am still good with a bit of spontaneity.  Such as, I don’t pre-plan our vacations other than where we are going and where we are staying.  Other than that, the days are free to unfold, as they will.  Or free weekends.  I get up, shower and dress and wait to see what will happen.  However, in the every day scheme of things, yeah, I need the schedule.  Go figure.