Happy Birthday, Mom!

Holy shit, my mother is 75 today! I swear to God, I can remember when she was 29. If you haven't read this post yet about my wonderful mother, give it a read--she's an amazing woman.


Have a lucky birthday, Mom!

My next book: 101 Reasons Not to Write a Book

OMG, you guys. You would not believe how much work goes into publishing a friggin’ book. A couple of days ago I said it’s like building a house, and I think that’s a good analogy. When you go into someone’s home, you don’t look at their freakin’ light fixtures and faucets and door knobs and all the other blah, blah, blah decisions that somebody had to make. Well, I don’t notice that stuff, but I guess if you built a house yourself, you’d be more aware of all that.

Now I can’t pick up a book without scrutinizing it. There are a million blah, blah, blah decisions to make when you’re self-publishing a book: the size of the thing — 6 x 9? 5 ½ x 8 ½? 5 x 8? What kind of font? What do you want on the header? On the footer? What kind of font for the header and footer? Do you want the page numbers in the middle of the footer or flush left on the left-facing page and flush right on the right-facing page? Do you want a footer at all, or do you want the page numbers included in the header?

And don’t get me started about the cover. That’s a whole other set of decisions.

I admit, I bit off a little more than I might have needed to. I did hire someone to do the cover and the interior design, but I soon realized that I wanted to learn more about the process and decided to take on more myself. That meant there was software to acquire and learn, and God bless my boyfriend, Mike, because without him I would have taken a hammer to my friggin’ laptop. I’m not the most patient person in the world (in case you haven’t figured that out).

But still, I’m glad I took more into my own hands. This is my creation—every word in that book came from my own brain—and I really want the presentation to be a reflection of my decisions as well. And in order to make good decisions, I had to learn a lot.

I believe that even when you hire someone to do something, it’s a good idea to educate yourself as much as possible; otherwise, how do you know if they’re really doing a good job? For example, I know some writers who have no interest in learning grammar, punctuation, and principles of style and the actual craft of writing; they figure they’ll just hire an editor and their editor will take care of all that. But my question is, “If you don’t know the rules, how do you know you whether your editor is any good?”

Now, when it comes to my car, I admit, I’m at the mercy of the mechanic; I have no idea what the hell is going on under the hood. But I’m not trying to pass myself off as an automotive expert—and that’s my point. If you want to call yourself a writer, you should know how to write, and that means learning all the boring rules and tedious nuances. And I’m not only a writer, I now have my own publishing company, so I feel I sure as hell better learn the ropes.

It’s just that the process is making me mental. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed; I feel like I’m on mile 24 of a 26.2-mile marathon and all I want to do is throw up, cry, and quit. But Mike keeps me going. So does my mother, and my sister and my friends in the writing community here in Las Vegas.

And you, the readers of my blog.

You keep me going. The encouragement in your comments and in the private emails you send—you have no idea how much that motivates me to press on. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Now I’m like, geez, that damn book had better be good.

XOXO

I’m shakin’ my head

Have you ever checked out I’m Shakin’ My Head? It’s one of the blogs I have linked on the left sidebar. You know how things can be funny and sad at the same time? That’s this site. The blogmistress, a 24-year-old student in Missouri, offers her commentary on pictures and videos of real-life stuff that leaves her, well, shakin’ her head. I love this chick—she has her head screwed on straight and tells it as she sees it. Take a look.

Anyway, a few things have made me shake my head lately. Like the other day on the way to work I saw a guy flick his cigarette butt out the window. I have a million pet peeves, but smokers who think the world is their friggin’ ashtray is toward the top of my list. Pigs. That alone was enough to get me going, but the guy was driving a goddamn Prius!

The next item is courtesy of my brother-in-law, Russ. Seems he was approached recently in downtown Albany by a dude asking for spare change. This poverty-stricken indigent had a brand new pack of smokes in his hand and a bluetooth device in his ear. Of course, Russ couldn't say NO fast enough.

The last thing that’s making me shake my head is also a lesson in search engine optimization for all the bloggers out there. Back in May, I had a post entitled “I guess I’ll have to kick Mom’s ass.” Well, you wouldn’t believe how many pervs have landed on that page by Googling things like “mom’s ass,” “sexy my mom’s ass,” and my favorite, “momy ass” [sic]. Almost all are from foreign countries. Imagine their disappointment when they land on a post describing a libidinous Scrabble tournament with my almost 75-year-old mother. In Boise, Idaho. Yeah, that's what we Americans do for a sexy-ass good time--we play Scrabble.

I realize that including the phrases above will serve only to perpetuate the problem and is sure to result in more hits to today’s post. So to satisfy these licentious rakes all over the world, I give you… Mom.


Well, she is kind of hot.

I need your creative input!

Hey, my book is making me mental. You would not believe how many decisions you have to make when you self-publish. I've never built a house, but I imagine it's very similar--so many details. And there've been a million lessons learned.

Do me a favor and take a look at the two cover designs on the left sidebar and then cast your vote. I'd love to get your opinions.

Thanks!

No complaints and secrets to aging gracefully

You’ve heard me complain about a lot of things over the past year. My hair, my weight, Mormons, cancer, work, Twitter, feminism… the list is endless. But there are a few things you've never heard me complain about.

One is the Las Vegas weather. So what if it’s 110 degrees? I just think of Albany in January and thank God I’m not freezing my ass off. Plus, the heat keeps me thin. I have to look good in my collection of sleazy little Ross Dress-for-Less tops, so I can’t let myself pork up. And it really is the humidity.

Another thing I never complain about is men. I love them and appreciate them and am thankful for the differences between us. Even Bastard Husband was awesome in his way—I adored him. The only men I’m not so sure about are those Arab guys you see on TV, usually in throngs. Safe to say, it would take them a while to warm up to me. And I said “throngs,” not “thongs.” Eew.

And I never, ever complain about getting older, which is pretty surprising, especially considering how freakin’ vain I am. You never hear me say stuff like, “Weh, I’m getting so old” or “Weh, I’m losing my looks.” When I complain about my looks (which is a stupid thing to do), it’s all about my weight, which is also stupid because in real life I don’t even have a weight problem; I’m just not as thin as I used to be. Weh.

But I have no wrinkles worth fretting over (or maybe I just don’t see them) and fortunately, I have no aches or pains that I hear some people my age go on about. And even at 51, I have yet to experience a hot flash—knock on wood. I somehow escaped PMS, morning sickness, and all the other fun female events, so I'm hoping the big M passes by unnoticed. It's possible.

That's a long way off for most of you. I don’t know for sure, but I get the feeling about 95 percent of my readers are younger than I am, and I’d guess about two-thirds are more than a decade younger. A good portion of my friends here in Vegas are in their thirties—barely older than my kids. Some are younger. I know they look up to me (God help them) and I think it’s important to let them--and you--know that aging doesn’t have to be a drag.

Check out this picture of me and my friend Lisa, taken on the 4th of July. We're almost exactly the same age--just two weeks apart. Kids, this is what 51 looks like! See what you have to look forward to?


(I know, you love Lisa's blouse, huh?) Ha! Granny and Nana gone wild...

And look at this handsome devil I'm with. He's also 51, and he looks like a friggin' GQ model. Damn, I'm a lucky girl! But my point is, guys can look great as they age, too.


I believe there are two things secrets to aging gracefully, and I’m about to offer the same advice I gave last Saturday after my rant about eyelash-thickening Latisse:

1. Stand up straight.
2. Smile.

Stand up straight--simple! I’ve talked before about the importance of good posture; the way you carry yourself has everything to do with the way people perceive you. Want to be treated well? Don’t walk around like a schlub. The easiest way to improve your posture—and your entire life—is to start doing yoga. Don’t assume it’s only for those annoying super-spiritual types. If you’ve always wondered about yoga and would like to give it a try, listen to our Aging Nymphs show, “The Beer Drinkers Guide to Yoga.” Just click the show title in the right sidebar of this site.

And what could be easier than smiling? So do it now! Go out there and have FUN!

So have I convinced you that aging is nothing to fear?

Do you have any secrets you'd like to share?

Take a little cyber trip

I’m going to be sending you all over the place today.

First, you know how the people from Saturn asked me to post something on their website when my car hit 200K and I did and then they said I was a friggin’ blogging rock star and asked me post again, but then my aunt died and I got caught up in preparing my book for the printer and blah, blah, blah? Well, I finally posted again for them; it’s called “Baby gadgets for the car and why some memories are better left repressed.” It’s pretty funny and I think you’ll like it, so if you want to check it out, all you have to do is click here. But then come back because I have other places for you to go.

Good, you’re back. Ha-ha-ha, right?

Okay, the next thing I want to tell you about is www.SheWrites.com. This is a friggin’ awesome social networking site for women writers of all kinds. I cannot believe the sense of community that’s developed in such a short time. They have a million different online forums—I joined the ones for memoir writers and bloggers. (All you girls who have blogs—I expect to see you there.) There’s so much great information about writing, I kind of hate to see the site so slanted toward women. Writing is writing, and everyone can benefit from the same information, you know? So you guys should check it out, too, if you can stand all the estrogen. (But if you're reading this, you must have a high tolerance.)

The third place I want to send you to is a great blog for classic rock lovers—Classic Rock for the Soul. What makes this site unique is that it’s put together not by some dude my age, but by a very cool 19-year-old girl in Texas. I dig this kid and I don’t even know her, but I totally want to adopt her. I’d love to send some traffic her way—she does a nice job.

What else? Oh, yeah, back by popular demand, the boyfriend’s formulating another guest post (you read his first one, right?) I don’t know what he’ll come up with this time, but it’s sure to be more fascinating than the smarty-pants stuff he’s got on his blog.

One more thing: if you’re so inclined, do me a favor and click the Follow button at right. I’m seriously investigating corporate blogging gigs, and it’ll help me if they see that I’ve been able to con people into believing my writing is worth following. I know, it’s little like selling your soul, but I’ll very much appreciate it.

And don’t make me get mushy, but I really, really appreciate all of you stopping by to read the crap I unload here. I love you all, even my crazy stalkers who leave comments that I end up rejecting—you’re still family.

XOXO

Linda

New shoes and great advice for the men!

OMG, yesterday at lunch I went to the outlet mall on Las Vegas Boulevard to find a present for my friend’s 50th birthday, but instead I bought the cutest. shoes. ever! Look:


Cute, huh? I knew they were cute, but just to be sure, I asked a couple of eighth graders in the shoe store and they said, “Yeah, they’re totally cute” and with that confirmation, I marched myself right up to the register. I totally wanted to wear them back to work, but I saved them for today, which was a smart strategy because for the first time in ages I didn’t murmur an obscenity when my alarm went off this morning. Nope, I sprung out of bed because I have cute new shoes to wear today!

I have been in kind of a shitty mood lately, too. I thought the grand opening of the new Ross Dress-for-Less near my house would do the trick, but no… every cute little blouse I looked at was already on a hanger in my closet and nothing else brought me joy, so all I got was underwear.

I thought this Marilyn Monroe thong was funny because… well, do you think Marilyn Monroe actually wore a thong?


I hope I become a famous author so 45 years after my death my image will grace products I've never used. Imagine the Linda Lou kitchen apron?

But whatever... new underwear didn't quite do the trick. The fact is, nothing, nothing lifts my spirits like cute shoes!!!

And here's my great advice for the guys: Don’t worry, there’s something in this post for you, and it’s important. I’m going to let you in on the secret to getting laid. It's simple; all you have to do is say this:

“OMG, your shoes are so cute! They totally elongate your legs and make them look very slender. Did you lose weight? Please don’t lose any more; you’re perfect as you are.”

And then, I guarantee, the response you get will be:

“Why, thank you! Now, let’s have a romp in the sack, shall we?”

What could be easier? Try it, you'll see!

Yet another thing that can kiss my ass: Latisse

Okay, I know I’m the most vain person on earth, but even I’m not falling for this bullshit.

I’m talking about an article I just read in the Las Vegas Weekly, our weekly (duh) arts and entertainment magazine, about something called Latisse, “nightlife’s newest secret weapon.” Latisse is an FDA-approved prescription treatment that’s supposed to make your eyelashes long, thick and luxurious. It’s being hailed as a cost-effective alternative to “laborious and expensive lash-extension applications, which are being performed at boutiques and spas everywhere.”

Whoa, whoa, WHOA!

Are you telling me that now we’re supposed to be worried about the thickness of our f*cking eyelashes???

Evidently Brooke Shields is touting this stuff (insert sarcastic comment here). Look at the “before” picture.


Can you believe she had the nerve to leave the house like that? Well, thank God for Latisse—her career is sure to get back on track now. Lindsay Lohan, there’s hope for you, too!

Seriously, I find this ridiculous. Have you ever, ever looked at a pretty girl and thought too bad she's cursed with those stubby eyelashes? Guys, how many times were you on the brink of asking a woman out and then backed off because of her meager lash inventory?

Do women really need to be told that there’s one more area of inadequacy to worry about? I stopped logging into my MySpace page after being greeted with this:


Yeah, thanks.

Perhaps the most disturbing line in the Weekly piece was, “Latisse is letting cost-conscious ladies (and increasingly, men) stay competitive in an appearance –obsessed city…”

First, hold on, men are doing this? Sweet bearded Jesus, tell me they’re not straight. Because straight guys are getting into some pretty gay grooming habits these days, like going crazy with the eyebrow tweezers and over-trimming “down there.” Please, stop that shit. Women like men to be manly. We’ll have second thoughts if we’re unsure that you’ve actually made it through puberty.

And second, what the hell are we competing for? Whose attention are we trying to gain, and if long, thick eyelashes are the criterion for acceptance, do we really want to be a member of that club?

Imagine feeling so satisfied with your looks that you’d spend $1200 a year on this?

I’ve attained such a level of perfection, I’m afraid the only thing left is the eyelashes. I didn’t have anything else to spend that $1200 on… every vase in my house is in place, my charities are no longer accepting donations… thank you, Latisse!

Recession? What recession?

Hey, there’s no denying that only four days ago, I wrote “I think women should make every effort to look pretty.” Yes, I said that. And while I do believe we should take pride in our looks, I’m now taking back the “every effort” part. Enough is enough. Skimpy eyelashes aren’t going to make or break your looks.

To anyone who wants to appear more attractive instantly, I offer this simple advice:

1. Stand up straight.
2. Smile.

And to the drug companies, I say this:

Stop preying on people's insecurities and start finding a cure for cancer!

My blog anniversary and 20 things my old self would wonder about

Hey, tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of my first blog post. As I’ve been looking through this collection of crap, I’ve been thinking how surprised I’d be if the Linda Blackwell from 10 years ago were to look into the future and read the posts of the past year.

Man, I’d have a lot of questions and commentary:

1. I live in Las Vegas? How the hell did that happen?

2. What??? I’ve done stand-up comedy? In front of people?

3. I wrote a book called Bastard Husband: A Love Story? Wait, Chris wasn’t a bastard… oh, no! Did I get married again?

4. I had essays published in books? Oh… one of them is Chicken Soup for the Divorced Soul. Shit.

5. Beautiful Aunt Joyce is dead? No! No! NO!

6. Guiding Light has been cancelled? Bastards!

7. Hey, I don’t look too bad for 51.

8. I weigh 138.5? What the hell? (Note: “WTF?” wasn’t invented yet.)

9. Oh, so Mom and Jim got married… cool. But they live in Boise???

10. Wow, I sure have a good looking boyfriend.

11. Courtney plays the guitar and is a singer-songwriter, too? Like Christopher?

12. Oh, I see I haven’t gotten over my bird phobia.

13. Oh, I see I haven’t gotten over my obsession with Beverly D’Angelo.

14. Oh, I see I still hate going to work every day.

15. Yay! I finally got to see Leonard Cohen in concert!

16. I lived in Laramie, Wyoming? And UTAH?

17. I knew I’d still have my Saturn!

18. We have a black president?

19. Who the hell is Sarah Palin?

20..What the f*ck is Twitter? Is that Sarah Palin’s nickname?

Whew!

How about you? What would your self from 10 years ago say upon looking at your life today? What would be the biggest surprise?

What it's like to do stand-up comedy? Find out tonight on Aging Nymphs!

Hey, my sister Lori and I have a great radio show on tap for tonight, when our guest will be Albany-area comic Dave Kanyan.


Pretty, huh? I know--he has a body for radio. He'll probably want to kill me for posting that, but what can he do? I'm on the other side of the country.

I met Dave a while back when we did an open mic at the Lark Tavern in Albany—he’s a great guy. We’ll be talking about the in's and out's of performing stand-up--how to get started, how to keep motivated, dealing with stage fright… and whatever else you want to talk about. Join us for a lively conversation!

To listen, simply go to our Blog Talk Radio website at 7:00 Pacific/10:00 Eastern and click on the show’s title. Call the number on the screen to join in.

Remember, you can listen to the show archives anytime, so if you missed Hurricane Mikey two weeks ago, simply click the link on the right sidebar of the site you’re reading now.

Talk to you later!

P.S. We're always looking for fun topics and interesting guests--let me know if you have any ideas!