I remain myself…

To thine own self be true – William Shakespeare.

He who trims himself to suit everyone will soon whittle himself away. ~Raymond Hull

Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else. ~Judy Garland

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~Dr. Seuss

I said something the other day that upset someone so much they called me a ‘bitch.’ Golly gee. Here’s what I think. You don’t have to like me. You don’t have to agree with any opinion I have for it is just that–opinion based on what I believe. You don’t have to read the blog if it’s going to upset you. That’s okay. How boring would the world be if we all agreed on everything?

We all have choices in life. I’m not about to stop saying what I feel or think or believe just because someone doesn’t like it. I am me. I am a woman. I am a bitch. I am an individual. I am a nonconformist. I am a sinner. I am a piece of work. I am a commenter. I am okay. I am myself. I will not change to suit someone else. I will not hold my tongue for fear of not fitting in. And, as always, I will remain true to me.



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Saturday in Oz...

Have a good day

*****************************

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I am lucky…

A SUDANESE journalist facing 40 lashes for wearing "indecent" trousers vowed on the eve of her judgement that she is ready to be whipped 40,000 times in her bid to change the country's harsh laws.

http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,25874951-32682,00.html

When I first started fulltime work at 18, I was employed at a major department store. The rule was women were not allowed to wear slacks/pants/trousers – call ‘em what you will. They had to wear skirts and dresses and pantyhose. This was around 1982. Save yourself the math – I’m 45. Anyway, I always thought this was dumb because I had been working at Maccas (McDonalds) since I was 15 and the uniform included slacks. But, in 1982, the department store job was just about getting a bit more money before I went to go overseas to work so the trouser rule while stupid, I put up with.

Police arrested Hussein and 12 other women wearing trousers at a Khartoum restaurant on July 3. Two days later 10 of the women accepted a punishment of 10 lashes, but Hussein is appealing in a bid to eliminate such rough justice.

http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,25874951-32682,00.html

"We are here to protest against this law that oppresses women and debases them," said one of the protesters, Amal Habani, a female columnist for the daily Ajraas Al Hurria, or Bells of Freedom in Arabic.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,536590,00.html

How lucky am I? I can wear trousers every day at work without anyone telling me it’s unacceptable or obscene because it reminds men I have a vagina and an arse. I am free from being flogged just because I am different, outspoken and myself. I am free because I can chat to a man in a gym without it being considered dishonorable to my family. I am lucky because I can go to a gym and wear form fitting track pants. I am lucky because I earn my own money and I can pay for a gym. I am lucky that I can give back as good as I get from men at work without being punished. I am lucky that men have to ask me permission to do something. I am lucky I can speak freely and piss people off and risk nothing but someone disliking me. I am lucky I can pick and choose and that I rely on no man. I am lucky I am not considered an outcast as I see no point, for me, in marriage. I am lucky I have a car and a house and no man makes me feel like I should be grateful for him providing it. I am lucky I can write what I do without having to justify or explain it. I am lucky that I am not governed by archaic religious laws that if even a higher power existed would have considered a load of crap. I am free to do what I want, be what I want, say what I want. That is a power that I know I, and a lot of other women, take for granted. We have so much powerful when other women have so little.

Shame on the religious bigots and over-zealous authorities in Sudan. I admire Lubna Hussein and every woman in any oppressive regime or country who says “I refuse to take this shit from you any more.” The risks you take for freedom humble me.

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Uh oh....

“…you’re buying a cold one.”

“Damn straight, Skippy. I’ve had the day from hell.” I placed the icy cold bottle of Aussie Chardy (Chardonnay) on the bottlo (liquor store) counter. I never buy cold. They know that. I drink a bottle of wine a week…a glass here…a glass there. Gone are the days when I was dumb and twenty and could drink people under the table…’probably still could…but I digress…the day had been shitful. Even best friend Ethel, across town at her job, added the word ‘scrotum’ into her email subject line that indicated how crapacious her day was. If Ethel uses ‘scrotum’ in a sentence, it’s a bad day.

Why was it bad? Because it was all my fault…no, really. At work, I try and balance/juggle money and banking all day and deal with people who’d rather balance a pen on their nose than consider for a moment what happened to cheques, or credit card payments or vital information I should know before I ring someone and find out an answer I should have known two weeks ago and now it will take hours to sort the problem out. Hence the wine….and the bag of chips…oh and the chocolate mud scone. And no, it’s not part of my diet. And no, I don’t give a rat’s bottom.

I saw this picture – see above and thought – yep – ‘should have been a stripper – probably would have been easier. Now, don’t get me wrong. I admire strippers. They are gutsy people who have seen it all and wouldn’t have to reach for the chardy and chips to de-stress. That’s why in my next life I’m coming back as a stripper. I have the attitude but not the body which probably accounts for not being a stripper in this life. I’m also very good with money so shove a hundred bucks in my knickers and I would bank it – not wait for some cranky person to ring to demand where it was.

Fear of Being – has been released – let the pigeons loose…

The blurb…

Spencer Grace is living her nightmares. No longer content to haunt her dreams, an evil creature called the red man invades her world and turns it upside down. He knows things about her that no one else does. He feeds on her fears. He wants her for his own. Spencer is fighting for her life. She will not let this bastard win.

But this creature is not the only one new to her life. Two men, each with their own agenda, come to her. Both want her body and her heart. Both are prepared to share Spencer to allow her a long dreamt of desire. But in the end only one can have her. Who is stronger?

But can Spencer believe either man? Hot sex and fantasy is one thing but trust is another. It’s no coincidence that evil and love have come into her life at the same time.

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Whip me...

..and I’ll smack you in the chops. No seriously – if a man tied me up and did things to me, I swear to god the minute I was loose he’d be a dead man. And dominate me? Forget it. It ain’t gonna happen.

What am I rambling about? After I finished my gym training session with Hugh, I was talking to a friend on my mobile (cell phone) as I staggered to Patrick, my car, all hot, sweaty and red faced. She indicated that training was like a BDSM session with Hugh making me do impossible, hard, hot things that made me ache and sweat and moan…hmmm…this led us on to a discussion on the whole BDSM thing. While I respect some people are into the whole bondage-you-will-do-as-I-say-and-pain-is-pleasure thing – I don’t understand it. No, I don’t believe I’m a prude but I doubt – actually I know – I do not have a submissive bone in my body so BDSM strikes me as odd. Odd is not bad…generally I like odd… but this? Seriously?

Do you think allowing yourself to submit to the pain/pleasure thing is a strength? Or is it more of a need to be wanted and a chance to permit yourself to be out of control? Is it about trusting someone? Is it a power trip for the dominator? Or is it something they need to do to feel strong? Is showing weakness a good thing? Is it sexually titillating or sexually abusive? While is all seems rather tiring to me, it interests me why people do it and read it. I have never tried to write it. Oh sure, occasionally an Amarinda heroine gets herself tied up but on the whole I personally suck at being submissive so I can hardly write something I can’t do. But if you have the answers – let me know…and no, the Hugh thing is all about fitness and I call him a lot of bad names when he is training me so I’m still in control baby. That’s how I like it.

Lickety Split is released today at Ellora's Cave. It's part of the "Creamy" range of specialty books released by EC. Essentially it's about ice cream - how it brings people together and all the lovely, yummy things you can do with it.

The blurb...

What do sex and ice cream have in common? Waverly Astor is about to learn the hard way when she finds herself trapped in a freezer with the hottest hunk she has ever seen. Can lust compete with her true love of ice cream? Is having sex with the hard-bodied god a good idea when they have nothing but hot bodies in common?

Tor Arnett is more than happy to heat up Waverley’s life. She is sex on a stick and he wants to lick every part of her delicious body. The lady is most definitely willing. He has two things on his to-do list—catching a thief and sex with a beautiful woman. Not necessarily in that order.

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He did what to her on page one?

I was blog hopping – checking out who was thinking what about various things. One blog, that I hadn’t read for a very long time made me think one thing straight away – and that was huh? The writer, who is a writer, was complaining about erotic romance books and how these books always have the hero and heroine having sex in the first couple of pages. Hmmm…while I’m a great believer on having an opinion, why would you set out to read an erotic romance knowing there’s a bloody good chance that sex is going to happen in the book and more that likely, from the erotica books I have read, in the first chapter or in some cases the first sentence?

This blogger then went on to criticize the fact that romance cannot come from sex, that these books were unrealistic, that the words authors use were ‘inappropriate’ and she would never read any of them again. First up, that’s absolutely her choice to not read erotica again. I respect that. But I gotta’ say that the whole thing about romance books, whether they are mainstream or erotica, is that they’re first and foremost romantic fantasy. That’s what people want to read. A book allows you a couple of hours to kickback and not think about all the crap going in your life or has the laundry been done or can I serve up cereal again tonight for dinner or do I pay the bill on the reminder notice or can I push it ‘til the final demand? Reading is a break from real life. Most readers recognize that. While they would like a hero, maybe wearing a kilt, to kick open a door, storm in, snatch them up in his arms and take them to some wildly exotic place and shag their brains out giving them repetitive mind blowing orgasms, I gotta tell ya’ it’s a pretty fair bet it ain’t gonna’ happen in real life. It’s fantasy. Readers know that.

As for the romance not evolving from sex, well here’s the thing, it can and it does and if it’s never happened to you then don’t declare it can’t happen. How do you know? Inappropriate language….really, what is inappropriate anymore? ‘Fuck’ is used constantly as is ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ and ‘arse’ etc not only in books but on TV, music, film and in the street. If you find those words offensive then you have every right not to read an erotic romance. Those words, and much worse, are going to be in there and I would have assumed a writer, in the romance writing business, would understand how different genres work.

Yes, I respect her opinion. No, I don’t agree with her dismissal of an entire genre. That’s dismissing the readers who love it.

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The abnormality of being normal…

Once more I have been blessed by the Ellora’s Cave cover gods with a beaut cover for Pet Me. It’s exactly – right down to the splashing goldfish in the bowl - what I asked for. Ask – specifically – and you generally get what you want in covers. What I love most about this cover are the smiles. They are just perfect for this story. It’s about a couple who meet and fight over a goldfish called Arthur. Why? It’s involved and kind of silly. What happens? Lot’s of stuff. It’s due out in April next year.

I did get a couple of comments about the man’s body – specifically his chest. One comment was “my boobs aren’t that big”. And the other “that’s not normal for a man.” Ah, I love it when people try to argue the perception of ‘normal’ with me. What is normal? Stuff all#. Are we all supposed to look the same? Have the same chest, boobage and arse per square inch? I don’t want to look like every other bugger^ on the planet. I’ve lived hard, messy and enjoyably to get this body. I don’t want to be perceived as normal. How bloody boring. “Normal” to me means that you are so preoccupied with worrying about fitting in and not thinking outside the box that you become boring. Hence – normal = boring. I have this bizarre notion that we should view people as actual people and not replicas of what we think is 'normal'. And, just throwing this out there, but we should also consider focusing on someone’s words or eyes or smile and not worry if they are a size 4 or have a body that every clone has.

Speaking of bodies and perceptions, I showed the Lickety Split cover – eyes left, pan down - to a male acquaintance. The model has a gorgeous body which I am sure he worked his arse off to get. Anyway this male said to me ‘that’s the body I want’ - no, not in a sexual way – in a way that only a dreamer does. Now, I don’t want to call him superficial – he is – but his life revolves around the way people look. How tiring is that? And the chances of him getting to look like Mr Lickety Split by wishing are Buckley’s* and none. It scares me what twaddle comes out of people’s mouths. Why wish for something that is not going to happen? Be happy that you’re healthy and employed and can put food on the table and pay the bills. A lot of people can’t and I bet they’re not worrying about how their body looks.

So, in summary – be abnormal and enjoy it. All the best people do.

# Stuff all = nothing
^ Bugger = in this case means person – though it is an amazingly flexible word that can mean almost anything in Aussie-speak.
*Buckley’s – Aussie expression – meaning Buckley’s Chance - meaning no chance. Who was Buckley? William Buckley (1780-1856), a convict who escaped in Victoria in 1803 and lived among the Aborigines there for 30 years (survival in the bush was reckoned no chance).
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Buckley's_chance

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