Big News - Fun Stuff

Hey everyone!

The gang over at Decadent Publishing is having their first ever chat at The Romance Studio on Wednesday, February 2nd, 9PM Eastern! Cool thing is the chat is all about the newest ROCK anthology from Decadent - RUN DEVIL RUN - featuring the authors and band members!

Drop by, chat, have fun and win stuff!!

Just a reminder: next week it's your chance to learn how to speak like a Cheesehead! JUST in time for the Superbowl! Check out A Daily Dose of Decadence the next couple of Wednesdays (well, check it out on other days too!) to learn the ins and outs of 'proper' Sheboyganese!

Happy last week of January!
Wendy

---and yes! -- getting closer to seeing RESPITE on the e-shelf soon!

Wow, where'd January go?!

Holy Crap!

January in nearly over! Where has this year gone?

Here's hoping everyone had a great holiday season and that this month is a great beginning of '11 for all.

I didn't make any New Years resolutions - because if I did, I would have most likely broken them by now....hey, I'm honest!  Instead of resolutions, I make 'efforts.'  I have made an effort to exercise everyday (an easy one) and to watch what I eat (a not so easy one).

Since we last talked: I have a new editor on RESPITE! She's lovingly kicking my butt and making me think, which is a good thing because not only will it make RESPITE better but anything I do from here on out.

I return to blogging at A Daily Dose of Decadence in February. If you ever wanted to learn a 'foreign' language, you might want to check it out beginning Feb. 9th. In the meatime, check out some of my earlier posts either here or there!

Happy ---belated --- New Year!
Wendy

Is that a strip steak in your pants, or are you....

For those of you who missed it at A Daily Dose of Decadence earlier this month here's my blog titled 'Is that a strip steak in your pants or are you just happy to see me?'  Enjoy! Don't forget to check out the Decadent Publishing's blogspot and DP website for interesting blogs and great stories from all the DP authors!

And FREE STUFF -- you can win daily at 30 Days of Decadence - AND a gorgeous grand prize from the DP Authors and the great folks at Decadent Publishing! The giveaways are going on through the end of December.

AND- gosh I'm full of ANDS today --- check out my gal Deanna Wadsworth's new holiday short story SECRET SANTA - it's part of READ FOR A CURE during the month of December.

Check A Daily Dose of Decadence blogspot on Wednesday, Dec. 29th for another WILD WEDNESDAY BLOG w/ME---Wendy Burke!

Wendy Burke’s Wild Wednesday Blog

‘Is that a strip steak in your pants or are you just happy to see me?’

            It’s amazing the things people think they can get away with. (Read that –stupid criminals.)

             In my ‘real’ job (well, if you can call any kind of media a ‘real’ job) I am a TV newsroom assignment manager. Basically, I tell people where to go and what to do. When I’m not doing that, I’m doing research for stories, kissing up to cops on the phone and harassing my favorite US Marshal for fugitives whose mugs need to be plastered on the airwaves.

            But I digress. (Which happens a lot with me…Oh, look a nickel!)

            Please be aware, there is a special section of hell reserved for us media types – my sense of humor has become much less respectful, much more graphic and horrendously cynical in the past fifteen-plus years in the TV news biz. (It was warped by radio, however, WAY before that!)

            I’m sure many of you have heard ‘If it bleeds, it leads,’ a pseudo-mantra of television news. Well, not necessarily. In our newsroom, it may not be the lead story, but if someone is stealing something and is caught with it in his/her PANTS, well then it’s a story to consider just for its entertainment value.

            And, just where do you find people sticking stuff in their pants on a daily basis? ---The police logs.

            I read them every day. Sometimes the reports are boring (the usual copper wire thefts from vacant homes), sometimes they’re interesting (Code 18—that would be a dead body), sometimes you have to ask WHAT?! (like the guy who broke into a home and swiped a light bulb, toilet paper and a guinea pig.) 

            I guess you need to feel sorry for someone who thinks they need to steal from the Dollar Store. ‘PRO –(person reporting incident, usually the victim) states man stuffed shampoo, body wash and a package of disposable razors down his pants and fled.’ But, if you feel the need to be clean, steal away – but why stuff the stuff in your trousers?!

A whole new definition of the word ‘meat.’ ‘PRO reports man and woman trolling the meat section stuffing various cuts into their pants.’ This was a tandem job! Is that a ribeye in your pants or are you just happy…

            Hardware store: ‘PRO states suspect was clearly seen placing a ball peen hammer into the lower portions of his overalls. When approached, suspect threatened loss prevention officer with said hammer.’ Okaaay.

            This one is one of the oddest however. ‘PRO states man left store with a seven inch circular saw blade in his pants.’

            ---I got NOTHIN’ for that!---

            The last one reminds me of my college days at the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh. UWO…or U-W-Zero as some called it. Anyway, I digress! (Oh look – a penny!) Back in the day  when college kids could drink at 18, (in Wisconsin we grew up with Old Style in our sippy-cups) there was always a beer to be had at the end of a long, hard college school-day. Yep, after three hours of ‘History and Appreciation of Cinema’ (read that, one long nap!) I and a pile of friends certainly needed a beer, or two, or three.

            So, we head to one of the many bars surrounding UWO.

            Bars are a great place to get dorm decorating ideas and glassware. (Trust me, I’m getting back to the saw blade!) After one particularly intense beered study session, a pal of mine decides she needs a set of six pilsner glasses and a pitcher. Those were the great ‘80s (1980s not 1880s!) when Wisconsin gals all had stadium jackets – long, usually large wale corduroy, with pockets everywhere! And, the jacket/coat made for a great vehicle to covertly ease those items out the bar.

            After emptying the pilsner glasses with help from the table, off we went, back to Breese Hall. Too bad said glass-swiper decided to trip over a curb and fall in the middle of the street.

            The tinkling sound of breaking glass was heard only momentarily – then her screams covered the lovely sound.

            So, whether it’s meat, toiletries, saw blades. Guinea pigs or glassware – please, if you’re on an appropriation mission, do it with extreme caution if said appropriated items will end up close to your person!

            AND – I am neither endorsing NOR encouraging any type of criminal activity by anyone! I don’t want to see any of you on the daily police logs! If I do, your criminal butt is mine and you’ll be embarrassed via on air and on line media!

It's a week after Thanksgiving...

....but for those of you who missed it at A Daily Dose of Decadence last week here's my blog titled 'It's the Day Before and I'm Thankful For...Big Kids, Jerry Springer and Pie.'  Enjoy! Don't forget to check out the Decadent Publishing's blogspot and DP website for interesting blogs and great stories from all the DP authors!

And FREE STUFF -- you can win daily at 30 Days of Decadence - AND a gorgeous grand prize from the DP Authors and the great folks at Decadent Publishing!

AND- gosh I'm full of ANDS today --- check out my gal Deanna Wadsworth's new holiday short story SECRET SANTA - it's part of READ FOR A CURE during the month of December.

             Big kids, Jerry Springer and pie.

            (God, that sounds so much like ‘old dogs, children and watermelon wine!’…okay, not really.)

            So, now you’re saying, “What do big kids, Jerry Springer and pie have to do with one another?’

            Well, here goes.

            I always say I don’t have many friends; most people who fall into that category are much too close and too important to have that minor moniker. Those people, at one time ‘friends,’ have become the best kind of family to me – the kind I can completely be myself with. You know, the ones who don’t come in through the front door, but the garage. The ones who will happily sit in their jammies with you all day and drink beer in front of the fireplace and discuss everything and nothing.  Ones who know your house, so when they visit they’re not ‘high maintenance.’ Ones who are easy to travel with.

            From my own experience, the travel part doesn’t apply to most ‘blood relation’...ahem.

            So, back to kids, Springer and pie.

            Hard to believe it’s nearly ten years ago now – a trip to Disney World. Sure it’s great with little kids, the ‘oohs and ahhs’ of all those primary colors and toddlers screaming like Banshees as Mickey or Minnie get close. Yes, those are the things lasting memories are made of.

            Not in this house.

            Memories are made when three forty-somethings and one fifty-something attempt to have an adult beverage in every country in Epcot. I think we were thrown out of Canada after commentary regarding just ‘what does a guy wear under his kilt?’ (The answer is actually ‘socks.’---now that I think about it, what the hell was a Scotsman doing in Canada playing a bagpipe anyway!?...lost, probably, lost.)

            Yes, I’m thankful for the three Big Kids I experienced Disney with. Who can forget brushing the chickens in the Animal Kingdom’s petting zoo – in blatant disregard of the ‘Please Don’t Brush the Chickens’ sign posted at the entrance? (And, I can tell you, brushing a chicken in 90-degree heat is no small undertaking!)           

          While we were having fun, we were also encouraging to our fellow guests. Like the woman, not using her inside voice, grousing loudly about her drenched condition as she exited the Kali River Rapids – at the time she was standing next to the sign which read, ‘You WILL get wet on this ride!’  I think the phrase from one of my cohorts was, ‘Lady, this is the HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH! Shut up already!’ Yes, very encouraging!        

            It was a great Kodak moment in the Magic Kingdom, waiting in the dark, in a large group for the train to other parts of the park. Sometimes, you just don’t know what will hit you --- like the little guy in the stroller puking on the back of your leg. You can tell by the way I’m chuckling, that wasn’t my leg, of course.

            And, then there’s Jerry Springer.

            Nothing says ‘Good Morning’ like a good stage fight on the Springer Show while eating whatever selection of pie is left in the Disney Institute condo’s fridge. (Also known as the ‘Disneytute’ in some circles, the accommodations have since been razed – I think it may have something to do with our stay there – really, you’re not supposed to invite the little white Ibis birds in for chips and dip? Funny, I saw no sign reading ‘Do not invite the wildlife into the condo.’) I’m still at a loss as to who is her babies’daddies – did he sleep with his fiancee’s grandmother – and why was a size 22 bloomer panty found in her thong drawer. Oh – the mysteries!

            So to recap –for a week, four big kids, a refrigerator full of breakfast pie (and beer!), and Jerry Springer to kick off the morning prior to hitting the parks.

            Was one of the best weeks of my life. And, I’m thankful for every second of it.

            Three days after that tremendous time in Florida – Sept 11, 2001.

            I’m thankful I live in the United States. I’m thankful there are people willing to protect me – a total stranger – whether on the other side of the world, or down the street. I’m thankful for more things than I could possibly count.

            But maybe tomorrow, while I’m at work, I’ll start counting all those things. If I’m lucky, by this time next year, I’ll still not have tallied them all!

            Happy Thanksgiving – especially to my husband (aka Ktn), and my dear ‘family,’ Bob & Jules. (Get the Cow cold – we’re comin’ home for Christmas!)

           

      For those of you who missed it at A Daily Dose of Decadence  a few weeks back, here's a blog titled 'Why I'll Never Have a Blue Car'  Enjoy! Don't forget to check out the Decadent Publishing's blogspot and DP website for interesting blogs and great stories from all the DP authors!

And FREE STUFF -- you can win daily at 30 Days of Decadence - AND a gorgeous grand prize from the DP Authors and the great folks at Decadent Publishing!

AND- gosh I'm full of ANDS today --- check out my gal Deanna Wadsworth's new holiday short story SECRET SANTA - it's part of READ FOR A CURE during the month of December.

Now -without further adieu:

 ‘Any color but blue, please.’

                Favorite song – don’t really have one.

                Favorite food – uh, nothin’ there either.

                Favorite movie – I can narrow that down some, anything with Russell Crowe or Denzel Washington in it, or both. (Which leaves me with ‘Virtuosity’ and ‘American Gangster’.) Okay, separately works well, too.

                Favorite beer – Spotted Cow. 

---That's Brad---

                Favorite baseball player – well, duh, anyone who knows me knows it’s Brad Ausmus.

                Favorite car color – ANY COLOR BUT BLUE! (Yes, I know I’m yelling and there’s a reason for that.)

                Oh, let’s go back to 2003 – the lease on my cute little white Sebring was up and it was time for a new one. My dear huz sure knows how to pick cars, so he surprises me in July with another Sebring, in a gorgeous metallic ice blue color. I had complete strangers coming up to me asking me the name of the car’s color. I just called it ‘metallic ice blue,’ because to be honest it most likely had some pretentious, ‘look-at-me-I’m-the-guy-who-invented- the color’ name.

                I loved that car- it was comfortable, got great gas mileage and had an up-and-at’em cajone of an engine.

                That love began to dissipate two months later in September.

                I’ll warn you ahead of time, this is kind of a sad beginning to the story, but I’m sure that person is ROFL near the pearly gates, while completely rolling her eyes at her lone daughter.

                My mother had been ill and was quickly losing her battle with liver disease. I got a call early on a Monday morning that I might want to ‘get home right away.’ Well, ‘getting home right away’ for me is a six hour drive – I live in Ohio, she was in Wisconsin.

                So, I hop in the car, try not to worry, accept the fact that I will soon be sans parents and brace myself for the minutia that comes with dealing with a funeral. I was in a pretty good mood actually – I was prepared for this.

                She passed while I was zipping by Great America (now Six Flags) in Gurnee, Illinois, just outside Chicago.

                As I get to Wisconsin, is where the story gets interesting. As a preface, I have the world’s smallest bladder – and of course, I was guzzling 32 ounce pops and coffee all the way there.

                I’m ten blocks from my childhood home and I’m dancing in my seat – no way is that little receptacle going to hold out another mile or so. I pull in to the nearest McDonald’s and trot to the facilities.

                I’m two steps back into the parking lot when a young man calls my way ‘Ma’am (ooo, I can’t tell you how I despise that!) is this your blue car?’

                “Ah, yeah.”

                “Well, I kind of hit it,’ he said, leaning against a huge loaded box truck.

                ‘Kind of hit’ is relative. If my metallic ice blue, two month old Chrysler Sebring had been a full size Hummer, yes, ‘kind of hit’ would have worked, but because I didn’t…the front driver’s side quarter panel was gone, the cowl was in pieces and my hood was badly crimped.  The car was a mess and would not be Interstate worthy.

                As I sat down in the car and started pulling out insurance info, I laughed, yes, laughed. This incident was a tiny pebble in my shoe compared to the magnitude of reason I was in Wisconsin to begin with.

                He apologizes and we begin exchanging information.  

                “Oh, and you’re from out of town,” he says.

                “Yes, I’m here to bury my mother.”

                I thought he was going to pass out. He mumbled, he stumbled, he couldn’t figure out why I thought this was so funny. He apologizes over and over. I assure him it’s all right and we finish our business.

                Then, I call my husband, who is still in Ohio.

                “What did you do?!” was the first thing out of his mouth.

                “I was peeing!”

                “What do you mean you were ‘peeing’?”

                “My pants were around my ankles and I was in the McDonald’s bathroom peeing!” Why do husbands always seem to think automotive trouble is due to their wife’s operator error!?

                “Well, get a police report, for the insurance.”

                “Okay.”

                So, that’s taken care of. I eventually get the Sebring cable-tied and strapping-taped back together well enough to make her Interstate worthy again.

                I bury my mom and head home.

                That was just the first incident with the metallic ice blue Sebring.

                A summer later, my metallic ice blue friggin cursed Sebring is parked in the parking garage at work.

                I get a call at my desk from building security, “Do you have a blue Sebring?”

                Dear Lord, now what?! “Yes, I do.”

                “Could you come to the office, some one hit it.”

                I’m seriously thinking I’m beginning to hate this---BLUE--- car.

                So, I wander downstairs, first to my car, which has an enormous dent in its back passenger side bumper.

                It’s explained to me by the man who owns the brand new, convertible, racy Fiat roadster that, “My car must have jumped out of gear, rolled down the garage ramp and…”

                “…Was stopped by the back end of my car.” I interrupt.

                “Well, someone could have been run over,” he snipes.

                “Yeah, but thankfully my car prevented that,” I smile back.

                “Uh, this usually doesn’t happen. This is my summer car.”

                WTF?!  “Oh, good for you, this is my only car!”

                He pulls out a check book, “How ‘bout I right you a check right now, we’ll be done with this.”

                “How about you cough up your insurance information and we’ll be done with this.”

                “Oh, that’s not really necessary.”

                “Oh yes… yes it is.”

                Did I mention he worked for one of the largest legal firms in the city?!

                I’m really beginning to hate this ---BLUE --- car.

                It was fairly quiet for about two years. (Yes, to top it off it was a SIXTY month lease –never again)

                Until Christmas of 2007.

                My brother was in town from Wisconsin and had a flight back home. We have breakfast and head out to the airport where he has a hopper to Detroit connecting to Milwaukee. It had been foggy and rainy. The ticket agent mentioned the connector up to Detroit was running ninety minutes late, which would put him in DTW after the flight to Milwaukee left. Two other people were at the counter in the same predicament.

                “C’mon, it’ll be faster if I just drive you to Detroit Metro.” (…in the metallic ice blue cursed Sebring.)

                “Are you going to Metro?” I’m asked.

                “Sure, wanna ride?”

                So, off we go – my brother, two strangers and more luggage than has ever been in the car.

                Three miles later, WHUBBA WHUBBA WHUBBA…

                C’mon, you want to guess!  FLAT TIRE!

                So, there I am, on the side of the road, in the rain. I had to unpack the trunk to get to the donut wheel. You know what, I’m pretty darn good at changing tires! So, after the change and praying that I got the lug nuts on tight enough, off we went.

                The remainder of the ride to Detroit Metro was uneventful, thankfully! And, we arrived with enough time for my brother and the two stranger-passengers to make their connections.

                I’m parked at the curb, unloading luggage again when the vehicle parked in front of me, a pickup with the giant cab on the back decides to back up without looking.

                BANG!

                $1,700 hole in my front grille.

                You know what, I laughed!

                A bid adieu to my brother and passengers, exchange information with the offending driver and hit the road back to Ohio.

                I call my husband, “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

                “Don’t tell me,” he says, “…you were peeing.”

                And, that’s why any car I ever have again will be any color but blue!

               

               

               

WIN STUFF!

Check out 30 Days of Decadence for great stories and your chance to win a beautiful gift from Decadent Publishing!

Follow the directions, leave a comment and WIN!

It's that easy!

Wendy

Big Kids, Jerry Springer and Pie

...find out why I'm thankful for these three things, WEDNESDAY, 11/24/10 at A Daily Dose of Decadence.

And, RESPITE is still in the editing phase, but I'm hopin' it'll be available before Christmas!