oh, how the turn tables….preggers post #2

26 Jul

I was forewarned that it would happen…one day I would wake up and the queasiness and the misery are gone for good. Well, here’s a cheers to day 2 sans quease…there was one day in between with quease but it wasn’t bad enough to warrant misery, and so it doesn’t count 😀 oh happy day! ps. I’m the  one cheers-ing with ice water…..look at me go.


preggers post #1

21 Jul

A friend of mine said I should write about being pregnant…I have to admit it is a bit difficult to focus on a story like Mystery High while holding my hair back.  Pregnancy it is-at least until I can go a day without gagging at some noxious smell.  I have to say though, that the following post isn’t representative of every pregnant woman out there…

How can I explain the extent of fear during early stages of pregnancy?

I’m not sure I can in such a way that everyone who isn’t pregnant, will never be pregnant, or thinks they understand what it’s like to be pregnant, will comprehend. But I don’t mind trying.

Fear: be afraid or feel anxious or apprehensive about a possible or probable situation or event; wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

It would be easier if I likened it to something you feared tremendously: the dark, dying, elevators, airplanes, crowds….and suggested you go embrace exactly that which you feared for at least 3 months.  But it wouldn’t cut it.

Some pregnant women who I’ve talked to about the fear very simply say: it’s a life, and I don’t want it to die.   Me, well, a long time ago I was told that I thought too much. I then took the advice to heart and filled my time with all sorts of activities, jobs, mindless reading (romance novels 😉 ) to make sure my brain was occupied.  But now that I’m pregnant, I find my hormones doing a GREAT job of getting my thought process back up and running (when I’m not queasy).  So I say that the fear runs way deeper than one life. It’s about two, and how worthy one of them is for life-and I’m not talking about the baby.

Let’s look at creation. Evolution or God, either way says that a woman should have the physical capability of being a mother. It’s necessary for life to continue as we know it.  Now, let’s look at another strictly human situation:  Ever have a significant other basically tell you you’re not worth it? You’re not worth the effort to resolve pain, to laugh with, to experience life with? Remember how heart breaking that forced revelation was?  Most high schoolers who’ve dated probably understand what I’m talking about.  There’s always a time, though, leading up to that point of confrontation where your gut churns at every frown from your significant other, and your life lights up in relief with every smile. But that point of being told you’re worthless to another person came, and may have nearly destroyed you.

Now, imagine it was God, or natural selection, telling you you’re not worth it. Your body wasn’t worth reproducing another you. You are not worthy of continuing the human race.

You have 3 months to figure out if that’s what’ll happen. You cringe at every smell, you smile when food goes down. Your heart picks up for every ultra sound. You scrutinize your doctor’s facial reactions and are elated when the news is good.  Fine, most don’t sit around and worry all day every day-but anyone can tell you, yes, it’s a worry in the back of every mother’s mind.

A pregnant woman might worry about whether her body is then fit to bear the title ‘woman’.  If you can’t conceive, what good are you?

But the grand thing about this fear is that, even if the worst comes to pass, we can try again—and chances are, we will.  You see, women aren’t fearless- we’re strong enough to recognize that even the most crippling fear can be worth facing. Sometimes though, we might need a friend to lean on-even if you don’t really understand the fear-I’ve got me some good friends.  So, if you know a pregnant woman in the early stages, give her a hug to congratulate her, a shoulder to ease her burden and a hand to hold in case she needs it.   Nothing shows you’re a friend better than recognizing the good, bad and ugly and being there regardless of what happens.

even other mammals need a bit of lovin’

20 Jul

.i know, but really, how in love must these two be to kung fu fight?.

in response to the classic disney song, I can definitely feel the love tonight

.check it out..soul mates. from: http://pixdaus.com/single.php?id=35952in

God Bless America and Netflix

16 Jul

So, I’m still looking for a theme that really fits “Romancing Pittsburgh”.  This one, all nice and pink, I really thought would do it, but every time I see it I cringe.  It looks like I’m yelling at you “ROMANCING PITTSBURGH! ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” And then I feel like it’d be appropriate to tackle you after you finished reading the title. A good solid hit to the gut.

Needless to say, I’ll probably be changing it a few more times until I find “the one”.

Regarding Mystery High. Well. I’m sluggish. You wanna know why? Oh I’ll tell you why. It’s because I’m….dun dun dun…..pregnant! That’s right folks. I’m at 11 weeks and counting and the little critter is due Feb 8, 2011. I’ve been eating melba toast by the boat load and catching up on TV like it’s my job in life.

When I was younger I can honestly say I rarely watched tv. Since I’ve been knocked up though, TV’s been my best friend. In fact, not TV, but Netflix. God Bless America and Netflix. It doesn’t exist up in the land when I originally hail from (Canada).



Shows I should have watched while I was in high school but I’m catching up on now:

1. Roswell.

2. Veronica Mars.

I ♥♥♥ Roswell. Not sure about VM yet. See, the boyfriend’s she’s stuck with all have a history of violent behavior. It’s weird.  Like, I know all high school guys are hormonal but gee golly it doesn’t make it okay to date someone if they have a tendency to beat stuff to a pulp, does it? Maybe it does….I’m outta the loop.  Even the ‘good guys’ are bad news.

you should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how…

13 Jul

It’s a big part of romance-the kiss signifying the main character has found the love of their life.  So, Edward and Bella have won (2 years running) best kiss for MTV Movie awards. I say dump on that.  There have been way better kisses in tv and movies…

Ah l’amour.

Here are my top 5 that make my heart thump when I watch them:

1. Movie/Show: Roswell

Characters: Michael and Maria

Surprisingly, I couldn’t find a segmented kissing scene on youtube but this was the one with the least offensive music in the background. You want a good scene, check out season 1 episode 9, Heat Wave.

2.  Movie/Show: Romeo + Juliet

Characters: Tybalt and Murcutio….kidding. Romeo and Juliet, duh.

Danes and DiCaprio were so young! But boy could they fire up the screen.  This scene was their first kiss and I think it really captures what a first kiss is like…

3. Movie/Show: Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Characters: Brangelina

They’re bashed, bruised and beyond sexy.

Couldn’t find a video, so here’s a still from the movie:

4. Movie/Show: Atonement

Characters: Robbie and Cecilia

Here’s the beginning of the momentous kiss…after this it gets heated very quickly…

5.  It took me a while to decide on this number 5. There are a bunch of honourable mentions down below but I’ve decided that this is one of my personal top kisses

Movie/Show: Gone with the Wind

Characters: Rhett and Scarlett.

Rhett Butler=wow and sometimes you just want to slap that Scarlett silly. When they kiss, and she really kisses him back, it makes a tummy go flippy floppy…the clip I found isn’t one of those.  It is one of those moments that makes you say, “Oh no you did’n Ms. O’Hara.”

Honourable mentions:
Movie/show: Titanic

Characters: Rose and Jack

Movie/show: Wall-e

Characters: Wall-e and Eve


Movie/Show: The Notebook

Characters: I actually don’t know their names because I’ve only seen it once and contrary to most females out there, didn’t like it. The kissing scene in the movie that everyone likes is all nice and rainy and whatnot…but anyone notice how her mouth is draped open right before he dives in? Well anyways, I liked their kiss at the MTV movie awards better:

Movie/Show: P.S. I love you

Characters: Holly and Gerry

Movie/Show: The Office

Characters: Jim and Pam

Any of their kisses. End of season 2 was a good one.  ps. this was in strong competition with Gone with the Wind.

Movie/Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Characters: Buffy and Angel

I hunted and was fruitless. No vids of their very passionate kisses. It’s a really old show but here’s a list of favourite kisses of theirs:


Mystery High part 3

7 Jul

I really need a new name for the story…mystery high sounds so, well, mysterious. It’s really not meant to be–I just couldn’t find a high school that fit my description…anywho. Until there’s a new name, Mystery High it remains….

The idea that I had turned into a fully fledged stalker didn’t escape my notice.  To try and catch a glimpse of him again, I lingered in the halls well past second bell so that I was late to every class.   And in every class, I took a bathroom break and wandered, slyly looking into every class window I walked by.  The guy was nowhere to be seen.  I let out a frustrated Argh during my final period’s washroom break. This was absolutely unnecessary.  I really shouldn’t have been hunting the guy down like a tiger an antelope.  He’d turned out to be one tricky antelope.   Arie. Stop. In my last turn of the hall, I bent down to take a drink from the water fountain and heard footsteps approaching.

My heart and imagination leapt into overdrive as I imagined it was he, coming down the hall, because he was looking for me too! And when I stood up I would feel him behind me.  In slow motion, I would turn and see that we’re so close that a kiss was the only possible move.  His breath would smell of spicy cinnamon gum and his chocolate eyes would gleam in the dimming hall sunlight.

“Hey,” he’d say.

In my most suave moment, I’d smile at him in a heartbreaking way and he’d know it was okay to kiss me.  He’d lean in with a dimpled half smile and…

A throat was cleared behind me. I double blinked and realized that I’d been leaning over the water fountain this entire time.  My cheeks flared red and I straightened, turning slightly to see my teacher, arms folded behind me.  If I didn’t say anything, maybe he wouldn’t know it was me? Or maybe it wouldn’t matter that I’d been loitering for the last, what?..I looked down at my watch, holy crap! I’d been out of class for 20 minutes.

“Miss Huston. I think you’ve had enough water this period, don’t you?” my movements were slow and showed my humiliation.   When I faced him, I kept my eyes to the ground and tried to let my wavy hair drape over my face.

“Yes sir.”

“Get back to class.”

“Yes sir.”

But I had a problem following this simple obedience: in my stalk-age, I didn’t even use the bathroom.  And as I just drank a gallon of water, and my bladder was the size of a peach pit, I’d actually have to use the restroom soon. Very very soon-or there would be mortification to pay with.  It would be just another item to cross off of my “humiliations in high school” list: peed myself in eighth period.

Back in class, I groaned as I resumed my seat and spent the next 7 minutes and 38 seconds shaking my leg to distract my bladder from its function in life.  When the leg wasn’t enough, I took to tapping my pencil like an idiot.  I was distracting everyone around me but I didn’t dare ask to be excused again.  By the time the final bell rang there were tears in my eyes from the sting of a crying bladder.  I bolted out of class as fast as my legs would let me and I rammed right into someone.  What the hell.

I excused myself without really registering who it was and I was ready to football it through the hordes of teens spilling out into the hallway when the person’s hand grabbed my arm.


Ugh crap.

“Luke? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for football practice?” I was dancing in place and his blue eyes watched me with some amusement.  For a moment, I was lost in those eyes and as he answered me, the volume of his voice faded to mute.  The tiny voice of my bladder rose to cover his and was urgently bellowing in my brain.  Damn. Couldn’t catch a break today.

“Luke listen, I gotta go pee.” And I ran.


It was the longest pee of my life.  The sensation went from pain to satisfaction and kept going. Soon, other girls filled the restroom, their high pitched or snarly voices intermingling with one another.  After a few seconds and some exiting, I could discern who it was who was left talking.  They were two girls from Tiffany’s cheerleading squad, Ashley and Madison.

“So yeah! I totally heard that Jenny saw Luke, like, all over Arie.”

“Oh my god. No way.”


“Like when?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” My eyes were wide with the news that Luke was “all over me” and I leaned forward to look through the crack of the door.  I watched as Ashley applied lip gloss and Madison fiddled with her bangs.

“What about Tiff?”

“What about Tiff?” In between smacks of her lips, Ashley continued saying, “Tiffany obviously knows something’s up otherwise she wouldn’t have said something to Kayla in aesthetics.” Tiff had aesthetics after lunch.  I leaned back in disbelief as I was bombarded with more information and speculation.  I listened to them debate on how long Luke was cheating on Tiffany with me and if I’d always had a thing for him, and if he was doing it to pity me.  That one hurt. What hurt more was when they said that Tiff was only my friend because she’d known me so long, and it was about time she ‘cut the cord’.  I listened as a few tears made their way onto my cheeks and I firmly brushed them away.  When they’d left I zipped up my jeans and cautiously stepped out of the blue painted stall.

My eyes didn’t betray me with red rims. I was surprised at that, but I still splashed some cold water on my face to wake me up from self pity. I’d lived with the “no self pity” mantra for so long that I forgot I’d need it when it came to things other than hospital visits and bad news.  Self pity could strike even on the best of days, helping add them to your worst. And that’s not where they belonged.

“It’s been a good day,” I told myself, wishing that I actually really believed it.


I was outside, having a staring match with my car. Her name was Daisy.  We were in a showdown, Daisy and I.  She, a white, ‘95 Accord, and I, a 16 year old brunette.  It was a constant battle between the two of us, but I couldn’t help but love her.  She was just as damaged as me, and if I couldn’t love something so damaged, how could I expect someone to love me?  My dad had sat me down a few times to try and get me to get rid of the car, and he even offered to get me a new one. It was a moot point though-why get one when I wouldn’t need it for long and they’d be stuck paying it off?  I couldn’t do that to them.  But today, with the heat being 90 and my AC non-existent, I seriously considered the offer.

From across the lot, I begged her silently to start and take me home with no complications. But when I stepped out onto the scorching pavement, I knew there was no way in this infernal heat that she would do me a solid and start.  It was too damn hot.  I jingled my keys in my pocket and continued towards my car.  As I grabbed the handle and swung the door open, a blast of heat escaped, laughing at my misfortune. Dropping my book bag on the cement, I gingerly seated myself in the driver’s seat.  Inserting my key, the lights all flashed on and as I turned on the ignition there was a simple whine that told me she wasn’t going anywhere.

I hung my head, letting it touch the steering wheel when I felt the little hairs on my forehead burn away. It was scalding hot, and I jerked my head back, letting the headrest catch me.

I didn’t see him approach so when I heard his familiar voice sound, I jumped a mile into the tiny space of my car.

“Sorry I, ugh, didn’t mean to scare you,” Luke said, a worried frown on his forehead.  I scoffed back, “yeah right.”

“You need a ride?”

“Not from you-don’t you have anything better to do? How about football?”

He got intense there, for a second, like there were serious thoughts running through his head.

“Shut up Arie and get in my car.” He was exasperated, from what I had no idea, but I hadn’t heard that tone in a long while so I gave up my fight and said,


oh these days are long….and FABULOUS!

24 Jun

it’s been one whirlwind of  a month! There has been an abundance of celebrating including my husband’s band’s cd release party…


check out their CD sampler here: http://otrov.info/mp3/OtrovCDsampler.mp3

….my birthday…

…and our 1st anniversary!

It’s been a year filled with love, laughter, understanding and awe, as I’m pretty much the luckiest gal in the world to have him by my side.

ps. I had the most fabulous comment from a friend who happened to read Mystery High. Her wedding is quickly approaching in 86 days, everyone cross your fingers for her…. Thanks for making my day Patricia!!!

Oh, but you don’t know of what a woman dreams…

8 Jun

I haven’t been reading as much as I usually do…but now that I’m reading a romance by Eloisa James, Desperate Duchesses, I’m inclined to fall back on a memory of a man I once dated.  A Casanova to be sure, he claimed that he learned everything he knew, about what women wanted, through reading romance novels.  Purely for informational purposes I was assured.



Aside from mulling over his curiosity in a bestselling worldwide genre of books, I thought, ‘is that really what women want?’

Yes. At least to a point.

Since that fateful conversation, I’ve tried to coerce any man willing to listen into cracking open a romance, to really learn the mystery behind What Women Want-at least in bed that is.  But which one would I recommend? From what time? A short harlequin? The Flame and the Flower? Gone with the Wind? A modern romance? The truth is, romance novels have evolved.

It seems that the century we live in is quite taken with history and bungling up historical figures to suit our own imaginations.  A fact that is fine by me.  So, from the perspective of historical romances (my favourite) one main theme that runs through more recent romance novelists is the idea of engaging in sexual intimacies (pre-marriage of course) usually pushed for by the virgin woman.   However, the man, usually a member of the aristocracy, being so head over heels in love because of that one blissful encounter, demands to have her as his wife.  Well, it’s either that or honour pushes him to do the right thing.  In which case, the woman takes her due and makes sure, through words or heroic actions, that he loves her first.  For what is a marriage without love?  Of course, she gets her way in the end. And they live happily ever after.

The 70’s, those first turbulent spirited days of historical romances, honed in on a different side to women.  This one, led by authors such as Kathleen Woodiwiss and Rosemary Rogers, tapped into a more primal level. One which recognized arguing as an integral part of passion; one which showed a side to men including infidelity; one which allowed for human, especially the women’s, folly.  But in the end, the rocky couple get married and live happily ever after.  Usually with a baby neatly in tow a few months later.

So what do women want?  For me, after reading a more recent author, I find satisfaction lacking when I reach the end.  That’s not to say I wasn’t greatly disturbed and intrigued reading Woodiwiss’, The Flame and the Flower, either.  A balance between the two maybe? Who’s to say? Each woman is different. But even a dimwit can’t help but notice the end result is always the same….marriage and maybe a baby….hmm…perhaps we’re not so mysterious after all….

thank you!

24 May

yay!!! thai cuisine is featured on cavewriters.com…. 😀

a little austen lovin’ can go a long way….

24 May

I’ve been really busy editing a book I wrote (WOW.  Strange to even have that officially down) so I’ve been slacking on continuing the Mystery High Series and adding general other love related stories.  Hopefully, with this gift of a scene from the latest rendition of Pride and Prejudice, I’ll be forgiven.