My Signature Drink [PostADay]

A daily prompt from Daily Post at WordPress

Captain Picard was into Earl Grey tea; mention the Dude and we think: White Russians. What’s your signature beverage — and how did it achieve that status?

Above is my “signature” drink – X rated & Sprite

You can follow along with my “drinking adventures” on instagram

Neighbor [Daily Post]

It turns out that your neighbor on the plane/bus/train (or the person sitting at the next table at the coffee shop) is a very, very chatty tourist. Do you try to switch seats, go for a non-committal brief small talk, or make this person your new best friend?

Make yourself comfortable! / ¡Póngase cómodo!

They’re Not Here Any More [Writing101D4]



Ever wonder about your past lovers? Feeling the loss of them from your life? I have a thing for men. I sometimes wonder if I don’t collect them. There are so many that float through my life. However, there are some that remain. Why? How do they survive the madness of me?Others leave. They’re not here any more.

In the past I had written about my “illness.” The one I like to say is in remission. One of the symptoms is having unstable relationships. Relationships that do not last. That’s true. There have been lots of relationships in my life. Men are curious, wanting to know if what they really see is real & true. However, there are a few types of men who show no interest in me and the type of women I am. They find their excitement elsewhere. Perhaps they have a muse of their own and see no need to have another.

The loss, I feel for some of these relationships depends on how much I have invested into the men. There is one man I think of that I didn’t cry over in a mourning that I missed him. Him, his being, everything that he is. I missed him, just for the physical needs he supplied me. He gave me a physical rush of all those addicting hormones popping off in my head. Completely addicted to the game that only he & I play. That’s what I missed about him, not him as a person.

There are some men that have touched my heart so deeply that thoughts of each one crowd the small spaces of my mind. Each one has given me so much in life lessons, both good & bad. Each one of them has touched me emotionally which lasts far longer than anything physical. Like the songs goes “they’re in my heart, they’re in my soul.” Those men are the ones I miss the most. Men that I actually gave a part of me too. There was one, who I gave my heart to, as he cared for it. He broke it, I broke his. Both of us, unwilling to tell the other what happened. Just like in the movie “Sweet Home Alabama” at the wedding scene Reese Witherspoon says to Patrick Dempsey “

“The truth is… I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart… and I never really got it back”

I believe that’s true, for me it was. I gave my heart away so long ago. Never got it back, until a few years ago.

Writing 101  This post is the first of three.

Writing 101
This post is the first of three.

Three Songs [Writing101D3]

writing-101-june-2014-class-badge-2Yesterday’s writing assignment for Writing 101 was “Commit to a Writing Practice.”

Write about the three most important songs in your life — what do they mean to you?

The first three songs always take me back to the moment the person told me that the song reminded them of me. The memory always comes flooding back into my mind as if it happened just yesterday. I am writing in chronological order.

Sundown by Gordon Lightfoot. I was sitting in his very old 63 or 64 Chevy Nova. I only remember that he would stop holding my hand because the gear shift was on the steering column not on the floor. We were driving somewhere, probably to the movies, when the song came on the radio. He turned it up. This song reminds me of you, he said. I don’t know why, there are just some parts of the song that make me think of you. After reading the verses I can pretty much figure out what parts he was talking about. We dated for a year. My first official boyfriend, had my family’s permission. He taught me about sex, not about love. We never had intercourse but we made out to the point we almost did. He stopped. He said something like he couldn’t. He wasn’t a virgin, but I was. I was only 15 or 16. He dumped me shortly after he told me about this song reminded him of me. Funny, years later he calls me out of the blue, apologizes for dumping while I was on vacation. I remember he said “I was scared, you terrified me, I thought we would end up getting pregnant and having to get married and having 6 kids because you were just too wild for me.” He married the girl he dumped me for, had 3-4 kids with her, divorced her about 15 years later. When this song plays I go straight back to that time in the car with him, then right back to the future with a smile.

Against all Odds by Phil Collins. This song takes me back to 1984. When my first love returned to me for that summer. We had spent the day having hot & sweaty sex. I had difficulty walking without looking like I had ridden a horse for 5 hours. We were in the car driving to his sister’s house, when this song played on the radio. We had been apart for about 3 years or more. We had just arrived at her house when he said “this is my song to you, it reminds me of us. I don’t know how or what to say to you, but I’m leaving.” My heart sunk. I never got out of the car, like we had planned. I remember him leaning in for a kiss while openly the door. I never said anything more to him. In fact I didn’t speak to him I just drove away. The following year he returned, but it was too late and I was too afraid to leave. I let him go again. Even now, my eyes fill with tears as the song plays in the background as I continue to tell you about what this song means to me. The one I loved most in the world left me while this song played on my car radio. He never really explained if the words for him to me or for me to him. Either way, I hear this and hear him, see him in my memories. I did reconnect with him about two years ago. Finally giving closure to a very deep cut, yes the first cut is always the deepest.

She’s Always a Woman to Me by Billy Joel. When my Beloved & I started dating, I was guarded. I trusted no one. Independent single mother, working three part-time jobs. One evening at my apartment in the kitchen, we were washing & drying dishes. I had done something to him, that made him start singing this song to me. He laughed & smiled “yeah that song is totally you!” Now every once in a while he sings me that song. It’s a song that will remind me of him singing in his best (worst) singing voice, and I love the man for trying. I will go back to that old memory of the kitchen and that apartment with us just starting our new life together.

There ya have it. Just a few songs that are important to me. Runner’s up are “Behind Blue Eyes” by The Who. That song reminds me of my oldest son. “Forever Young” by Rod Stewart reminds me of my middle child, my daughter. I don’t have a song (that I can remember or think of) for my Manchild. Which I do feel bad, but there isn’t a song that reminds me of him. Maybe one day I’ll find or hear one.

Finally, my life theme song is “Amazing” by Aerosmith. It says it all for me.

Stream of Consciousness [Writing101]

writing-101-june-2014-class-badge-2It’s was one of those days that I love so much. The gray skies with a hint of sun. It’s gonna rain, yet the rain never comes. You can smell it in the air when the breeze is blowing. I watch the tree tops sway with the breeze. Bright green leaves, rustling with each breeze. Sitting on my bed watching the curtains blow from the strong wind coming through the screens. I breathe deep. The anticipation of the weather change at any moment has me a bit jumpy. I will have to move fast when it starts raining to close the windows so the rain doesn’t come in. Looks ominous , the dark clouds, yet the sun is attempting to burst through those clouds.

I sit here typing thinking of what to write, listening to songza app “easy & mellow” tunes. Al Green playing in the background. I wonder about the story of his life, don’t know much about his story. Do you ever wonder how some artists got their start? I do. Was it difficult? What lessons he learned, how difficult this road to fame was. Now a days the artists seem to be built in a music studio. It’s not like blood, sweat and tears of years of hard work. Late nights in clubs for only a few hundred bucks to perform. Living in a van or not knowing when your next meal will be. Trying to get a record deal. Artists of today have no staying power. Do you remember most of the top artists of the 1990’s? Besides the heavy hitters like Nirvara. That was the first band to pop into my head. I really stopped listening, I mean really listening to the music & lyrics in the 90’s. Music was mostly disappointing to me.

Guitar gently weeps

When did music become so weird? I watched some YouTube star on GMA (Good Morning America) last week. Some punk kid with his dancers looking like they popped out of a FlashDance reject video. He sang, playing no instrument, just prancing around and looking cute. What happened to those artists that really had talent? I think the universe stopped creating people like that. Stars like Justin Bieber, god. WTF is that?!

There hasn’t been any bands like Aerosmith or The Rolling Stones or The Who. Why not? Shit. So is that all we have left? What happened?

“Leaving on a Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul & Mary. I have a feeling that folk music will be a new fad for the younger generation to discover. Folk music wasn’t not one of my favorites, however I did enjoy listening to some artists.

One of my life theme songs is “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” I could relate to the words, even thought I knew that’ the song had a different meaning that what I was relating to. I disappoint those that love me unconditionally. I always want to bail on those who love me. I think people like me shouldn’t be in long-term relationships. The mental illness part of me kicks in and I always feel like I have to run for cover. What hurts is disappointing those who trusted me, those who loved me and cared for me. Sometimes I can’t return any of that to them. I feel such guilt for not being able to express the same emotion they feel for me. It’s like when someone says “I love you.” I’ll only say it if I mean it. I can’t just say it. I won’t just say it. I won’t apologize either. People get upset, expect to hear it from me and I just stand there with a look of “What?”

So here is my 20 minutes of “stream-of-consciousness” for the Writing 101 challenge. Not sure if I will continue with this challenge, I really wanted to try this exercise to see what I came up with. What is floating around in my mind. There are many challenges this month. Plus I have a few reviews that I really need to get finished.

The End.


I Love My Woobie [Daily Prompt]

SassyCat3000 sleeps with her woobie.

SassyCat3000 sleeps with her woobie.

What kind of sleeper are you? Do you drop off like a stone and awaken refreshed, or do you need pitch black and silence to drift off to dream?  I am a bit of a light sleeper. However, there are times when I wouldn’t wake up if the house was on fire. When the kids were little I felt like I was sleeping with one eye open. I got remarried, I would cross one leg of my beloved to wake me up if he got up. Why? Because I had always heard horror stories about step-fathers. I would have never forgiven myself if something ever happened to one of my kids under my very roof. Once I learned my beloved sleep pattern or middle-of-the-night pattern I could sleep a bit better. We laugh about it now, he doesn’t blame me or hold my behavior against me.  

There was a time when I needed to take Ambien to help me fall asleep. That was after my motorcycle accident. The nightmares caused from the flashbacks were awful.  I would take the pills to get me over the edge. I stopped because I hated the way I woke up in a fog, besides I kind of freaked out while under the influence of the drug. I was done with those pills. I now take my BP medication about an hour before I’m ready for sleep. This medicine makes my drowsy and works well with getting me to fell asleep and stay sleeping. 

I really tend to be a person who can’t get relaxed enough to get to sleep. My thoughts just keep my going and going. I can’t get them to shut off or shut up. There are times when I will wake up from a dream, got to the bathroom and then I am not wide awake, but wake enough to not be able to sleep. I will admit the it is a very bad idea to have your cell phone next to your bed. This makes it too easy to grab it and start surfing, emailing, etc. I should really invest in a simple alarm clock and put my cell phone in another room.

When I was young, I needed the radio (with a timer) to go to sleep. Just to keep my thoughts drowned out, so I could drift off. I remember my mother said “one day you’ll embrace the silence.” NEVER! I thought quietly. I also needed a hallway light on or some form of light without causing to much shadow, door open. Closet door closed, my bed shouldn’t face a mirror. If I wake up in the middle of the night I will not look into any of the mirrors in the house. Also, I needed my woobie. I’ve had it since the late 80’s when my grandpa bought it in Mexico while we were on vacation. I still sleep with it, just not wrapped up with it. If I am sick or feeling blue, I need my woobie. It’s worn, has a few holes in it, but its soft against my skin. It’s too thin to really keep me warm if my freezing, just a throw over. Now that I’m older, the closet door still needs to be closed. I need dark & silence. No noise. Mom was right, silence is needed for sleep. 

 Post A Day


Ten Minute Timer

Ok. so here I sit typing a post for the daily prompt that has me setting a timer for 10 and just typing whatever comes into my head. I just keep typing although I wonder if the typing hinders the thought process because I keep thinking about the spelling of words and not the thoughts. I remember taking typing class in high school for two years and then an office class for a year. Do I use any of that information now. Not really just knowing what home row is. My typing words per minute sucks in a major way.  God even my forearms hurt from the pressure of typing something – anything. I think back to when I was in high school.  Thinking I could and would work as a clerical person somewhere in an office. Never would have thought that i would have my CDL now, driving for a living. I can make the bucks verses sitting office somewhere typing for 8 hours. I’m outside. I’m inside. I’m able to see things, not looking at four walls and a keyboard.


photo credit: Ѕolo via photopin cc

I think I would rather be outside doing what I do now than sitting in an office somewhere. The down side is not being able to dress up. I wear leg warmers, jeans, sweaters. A different kind sexy that’s for sure. Today it’s snowing outside, blowing 30 mph winds and I’m actually looking forward to driving in this type of weather. It’s challenge and sometimes feels scary, but it’s still one of the best feelings for me. I love it. Is the timer up yet? Wonder how many corrections I will have after I look at this. I just keep typing not actually looking at the screen. I wouldn’t mind it as something temporary, but my hands are starting to hurt. damn i feel old. nothing like feeling old ing simple tasks. great. i see where the mind is 100% however the body has been neglected.  No wonder why old people are grumpy. They think like a young person with the body of an old person. That’s gotta bite weenies. Speaking of weenies, I think there are two left in the frig from last night. Never been a hot dog person. Always a hamburger person. Can’t wait to read this crazy blog post. Aren’t you glad you take those few extras minutes you could have been doing something else and here you are reading this. The end.


My Bad Reputation

Do you have a reputation? Yes, I do. I have since I was little. I was shy up until middle school. I overheard one of my dad’s friends tell him “your daughter’s get moxie.” I was turning into a spunky smart ass little girl. Raised by my father, with a partial maternal influence. I viewed the world as rough & tough. Even more so if you’re a girl & a minority. I began to rebel against authority. Always questioning “Why?!” And “Who says?!” I rebelled at work, home, everywhere and at anytime. I “push.” It’s who I am.


What is it, and where did it come from? My “bad” reputation has been known to be a

  1. Dick-Head: this rep was given to me by a former high school class mate, who I eventually fucked for about 7 years waiting for him to get his head out of his ass. He explained it to me like this  “you’re just like a guy, thinking with your dick (if you had one) and just being an asshole.” He added “you are not a bitch, cause you act/think too much like a man!”
  2. Hard-ass: just being tough. Being able to work three jobs, being a single mom and no time for bull shit. At work, just being a hard calloused person so that I didn’t have to feel. At the time in my life I was too busy to have emotions.
  3. Bitch: I was the spoiled little bitch for the longest time. Because I’m an only child. Spoiled by divorced guilty parents. I learned early on, how to get what I wanted. I never felt a sense of entitlement, just that someone will handle it, so that I don’t have too. My cousins mostly called me a spoiled bitch.  Funny, because I  got most of their “hand me down” clothes. I didn’t get it new like they did. Geez! Currently at work, I have heard “bitch” said behind my back when I am enforcing the rules.
  4. Slut/Whore/The Other Woman: Ever since I started having sex. I stopped counting my sexual adventures. I make no apologies for this behavior. Knowing (now) about my “illness,” knowing that risky impulsive sexual behavior is one of the major symptoms. I don’t feel as ashamed as I used to.  I was using those men, to satisfy the void. To get me high. The rep never went away. Even now, there is a man (at work) that I have developed a close friendship. Sure there is some sort of attraction, not so much sexual, just we get along really well. I watch the other woman’s faces, the other men’s faces. I can read what they are thinking. Sometimes I do stuff on purpose to give them a subject to talk about. Half the time, they are wrong about what they think. It’s always easier to believe the bad stuff, right?!

Is it accurate? Yeah, pretty much.

What do you think about it? In the words of Joan Jett (I wouldn’t kick her out of my bed for eating crackers!)

…I don’t give a damn ’bout my bad reputation 
You’re living in the past it’s a new generation 
A girl can do what she wants to do and that’s 
What I’m gonna do 
An’ I don’t give a damn ‘ bout my bad reputation…

… I don’t give a damn
‘Bout my bad reputation
I’ve never been afraid of any deviation
An’ I don’t really care
If ya think I’m strange
I ain’t gonna change
An’ I’m never gonna care
‘Bout my bad reputation… 

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