The penis lover...

I was driving home last night after the basketball – which the home team won – amazing, Grace – and I was thinking about life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, men and all that male-dom encompasses, the battle I’m fighting and questions like did I have enough petrol to get home? When did I eat last? Lordy, I’m tired, tired, tired. How much money do I have in my purse? And then, for some reason a person I used to work with, maybe 10 years ago, came to mind. Why? I dunno. Her name was er, let’s say Odette…yes, Odette. As I drove in the dark, I recalled the first time I met her. I was working at Telstra – pukeable telecommunication company – and I moved desks – they did that a lot at Telstra – think Titanic and the deck chairs - to sit next to her. As I dumped my crap on the desk, she turned and said to me ‘”I like penis – a lot and I’m very loud and I’ll drive you crazy.” My response to that was  “I’m happy you like penises. I have no personal objection to them. However considering your ‘very loud’, I’d prefer you don’t bring a penis to the desk and get all excited 'cause I will have to tell you to shut up.” We got on well, me and Odette, the penis lover. I’m not sure what happened to her in the end. There were lots of stories about Odette. I do know the very last time I saw her she had come stomping into work, a plastic bag in her hand and the charred remnants of her work uniform inside. “I set it alight last night,” She said to me in a casual who-gives-a-crap-tone. “Good one,” I responded, because I always enjoy decisive action. She then marched up to management, handed them the scraps of uniform and then left the building, head held high and undoubtedly thinking about the pursuit of penises.

So, what does that all mean in the scheme of things and of me, driving home in the dark, contemplating life? I think it is supposed to mean that it’s okay to set things alight to in order to move on and that sometimes you have to declare your intentions and your desires – be they penises or not – and just get on with who you are as a person without thinking about petrol, food, the arseholes you battle or tiredness because you only get so many chances to burn bridges and to right wrongs. It’s all just about declaring who you are, defying those who don't like that  and then keep moving regardless of what's ahead. 

I run. I think. I am....

So, I’ve been doing a fair bit of running of late in the name of fitness and reasonable insanity. I don't care for running but it’s actually quite a good time to think about stuff. I don’t need iPods or whatever people have shoved in their ears. I actually like to be aware of my surroundings and who’s doing what in the half dark around me so I can act accordingly- and I like to think. A lot. I think about where I am in my life, what I want, what I don’t want, what I can never have and need to build a bridge to get over and how do I shove the ‘what I wants’ into my life as a reality. I plan. I scheme. I pound away down the Cairns Esplanade on my 5km run – which is the same as my jog and my sprint -thinking, thinking, thinking. Money? I want. Fame? Nope. Love? Can’t have. Smaller arse? Doable. Where to go on my next trip? Anywhere. Where will the chooks have laid the eggs today? Who knows. Run 10kms? Oh get real, lovey. Coffee after this? Oh fuck yes.

I don’t believe we think enough. We’ve been dumbed down by the media and apps that everyone must have to be like everyone else. I’m not everyone. I’m unique. I run. I think. I am. I will be. 

She who dares wins…

So, at work yesterday I emailed the head of the corporate beast that is lucky to employ me for a donation to Relay for Life. I was warned not to because he's very, very, very, twelve times over too busy and too, amazingly, stunningly, oh-my-god-wait-a-second-he-could-be-god important to deal with the likes of me and I'd made a HUGE mistake that could get me in trouble and uh-oh spaghetti-o.  

Well, I look at it this way, the Jones family motto is ‘if you don’t ask you don’t get.’ Besides I asked him the same thing that I asked everyone else and that was to donate $5.00 to our team sponsorship. Get it? Everyone else. He’s just a person – an everyone.  

Did I get money? Yeah baby. She who dares wins.   

I was thinking today at work…yes, normally I do try to avoid that and no, it wasn't about work stuff because as I was thinking I was also searching the internet for weekend accommodation at Port Douglas…anyway my thoughts swung to short escapes, escapes plan and mad bust outs of doing random, weird things that people wonder why I’m doing them. See? I was incredibly busy.

So, there I was thinking about random schemes and I also stopped and considered the top 5 things I want in my life.

1. Win a humungus lotto prize
2. Learn how to run better
3. Get more sleep – oh god yes
4. Do something worthwhile – still working on what that could be
5. Find a man who will be besotted by my loveliness.

Hmmm…at the start of the year a man was at the top of my list and now he’s at the bottom. I like men. Really I do. We need them to lift and reach for things. But I was remined once more that I do not need a man to make me happy. Money and sleep will do it. Yeah….that works for me.

Royalties…

It’s pretty bloody simple. You pay the authors first. Then yourself. It’s not rocket science. I believe if failed publishers had considered this philosophy before they started dipping their hands into the till they would not be failed. But then it’s all about life experience – some people are screw ups no matter what they do – and honour – some people were born without that trait and think nothing wrong with screwing others over.

Royalties. You publish books. You pay the authors. You bank the balance. Can it get any simpler?

The lemonade stand...

Okay, so you make up gallons of lemonade and you think ‘I’m going to set up a lemonade stand and sell my product on the sidewalk.’ People start to buy and you’re doing very, very well. Someone comes along, let’s call them the XYZ company, and says ‘for a commission we’ll help you sell your product to a wider market.’ You think that’s sounds good and you give them the right to do so. They then keep asking for more and more product and they keep putting it on the market at a faster and faster rate. The faster you make the product the faster the XYZ company snaps it up. They are really very, very nice to you. It makes your head spin…ding! Ding! Warning Will Robinson…

Suddenly you start to feel uneasy. Other freelance lemonade stand people start to tell you that their cut of the profits from the XYZ company have disappeared and they are cranky and worried. You don’t want to believe it. Sure, the XYZ company has been going through upheaval but what company hasn’t in the current world economy? So you write it off as other lemonade stand people whining about nothing. Then it suddenly happens to you. WTF. Where is the money? From plethora to dearth in a nano second. You ask questions. You get told it’s all your fault. You’re not sure how it is – because only piss-weak people push blame back without reason - so you keep asking as you come from an accounts background and you know lemons from oranges. Why are you, XYZ company, buying more and more lemonade from me and shoving it onto the market at lightning speed if you’re making no money out of it? That seems pretty fucking dumb business and suspect. They give no answer other than a politely veiled ‘shut up.’ Rarely one to shut up, you persist with questions.

And then naturally, you do the only thing you can. You withdraw product. You request cancellation of all lemonade related contracts as you have no faith in these people running the lemonade stand business. Trust and money go hand in hand. Lesson learned. People will screw you to save themselves.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

The big win...

The amazing characters in Thief of Mine kept me engaged throughout the fast-paced story. Resident bad boy, Kit Kincaid was not humble or modest. He was a self-serving thief who could charm the draws off any woman. Getting to know him was a delicious experience and one I want to repeat over and over again. I pictured myself in Stella’s place and immediately headed for the bedroom. The woman knew what she was dealing with when she signed on for gratuitous sex involving Kit. When they first met, he was pounding a bride on her wedding day. Stella had to give in and I was right there for the mind-blowing ride. The story was sensual as well as erotic, the combination brought goose bumps to my skin. On top of the novel containing hot sex, it had a plot that kept me on edge. There was a plethora of heart stopping action scenes and several dramatic climaxes. Adrenaline swept through my veins. Thief of Mine deserved five stars and an orgasmic rating. I applaud Ms. Jones’ talent and recommend readers buy a copy right away. www.justeroticromancereviews.com - Thanks JERR

Okay, tonight I will win the $10 million Powerball. Yes, I know I have said that before but hope springs eternal and desperation and greed goes on forever. Apparently there is a one in nine million chance that any one person will win it. Who makes up these odds? Is it some mathematical boffin who comes up with them to confuse or depress us so we won't play and then they win because the odds shorten? Anyway I cannot see why I cannot be the one out of nine million others. My first action, once I am sober enough to speak clearly, will be to quit work. I don’t understand people who say they will continue to work after winning a gazillion dollars as they would be bored. Bored? How can a gazillion dollars be boring? My friend Svetlana, no, not her real name, said she wouldn’t know what to do if she stopped working. I find it sad that she has nothing else in her life to turn to. Why does work become so important to some people? Yes, I know its all about paying bills but why do we define our lives by our jobs? I deal with a woman who signs all her emails with the title “Executive Sales and Marketing Manager.” She’s not. She’s an office manager like me. But she said it sounds a more important sign off than my normal “Is it Friday yet? best wishes, Amarinda.” She is the sort that will win lots of money and then go back to work. Fate, if you are listening, let me win the money and I swear I’ll appreciate it and only do good things with the money.

Every Thursday morning the garbage bins get collected in my street. And like many Thursday mornings it is only when I hear the sounds of bins crashing against the side of the truck that I think holy snapping ducks! I haven't put the bins out. I then have to race outside in my pyjamas and look up the street to see what bin I should put out. Recycling and normal or just normal? The angst of modern life. I then drag the bin to the curb in time for the garbo(guy in the truck) to roll up to empty them. I always wave at him and he shakes his head. I think he shakes his head because he secretly thinks I am a vision of loveliness in my flannelette pj’s, bed socks and thongs (flip flops) - and not that I am like every other dumb homeowner who forgets bin day.

Anyway, today after the bins were emptied, I looked down and saw a big blue cross spray painted on the grass nature strip in front of my house (grass I don’t own that is on public property).Hmm…I looked up a bit further and saw another cross. No, it was not an alien landing or religious phenomena (I could have made money out of those) - I was going to get two trees out front of my house. I love trees. My front fence is made up of native trees and the back yard is full of them. I have so many trees it affects the reception on my mobile (cell phone). Anyway, as I headed off to work I saw the man with the trees. I stopped the car and applied some charm and got to pick the trees I wanted out front of my house - a Jacaranda (purple flowers) and a wattle (yellow flowers and Australia’s flora emblem). Hey, I pay my council rates. I own those trees and a bunch more I reckon. And what is the point of being a hormonally charged woman if you cannot put those hormones to good use?

Speaking of hormonally charged women - did you read www.kkirch.blogspot.com? Well of course you did. Did you see what Kelly has done to out blog serial? As for Anny – www.annycook.blogspot.com - the Zen queen leads Grasshopper astray and then I have to pay for it. But, never fear, I have an idea in mind.

Blue Ribbon rating – 5. Thanks Romance Junkies - This is my first book by Ms. Jones and I suspect not my last. THIEF OF MINE was a great read, well thought out with plenty of layers that kept me guessing till the end. I hope that Ms. Jones writes more stories like THIEF OF MINE it in the future. http://www.romancejunkiesreviews.com/artman/publish/contemporary/Thief_of_Mine.shtml

amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au
www.freewebs.com/janetdavies
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?