Friday's Five

I'm hoping to post every week a FRIDAY'S FIVE -- 5 things that make me happy!



1) Hearing from an old friend after years and years and feeling that instant connection again.
2) Casanova's sighs when he finds his spot on the bed at night.
3) Cooper's enthusiasm of "I made a 110 on my spelling test today!"
4) The anticipation of a writers meeting to renew my own energy.
5) The hope when cracking open a new book I haven't yet read.

Trashy Karma

What a long, long day today. Man oh man! Today was the last day of my first year of Girl Scout cookie-ing and I can honestly say: WHEW! FINISHED! And of course, now that we're done, we have people wanting more. It's like Black Friday -- you don't want a particular item until you see the frenzy of others getting what's left so you go to grab it to make sure it's YOURS YOURS YOURS and oh crud -- it's gone.

Now keep in mind, this is the first time in decades that Girl Scouts have been in Cameron. So this isn't just MY first year as leader or in cookies, but most of us here in town. Our troop alone sold over 800 boxes. I have no idea what the Cameron troops combined sold, but it's impressive. Carly and Sydney were out front on our street holding up LAST DAY signs and it worked down to the last delicious box -- I'm SO proud.

But it's been a... well... a different kind of day.

It started earlier today. Every day after I do the morning school run, I go to the convenience store down the road and get me a big ol' honkin' fountain drink of Diet Coke, and today was no exception. As I'm walking back to the truck, one of the ladies who work there bent over and picked up some trash. As she grew closer to me, I noticed it was a thrown-out scratch off lottery ticket. So I ask her about it as she proceeds to dig through the trash can right outside the door looking for more.

See? Different.

Apparently she's won over $100 in the last two weeks on tickets people assumed they'd lost on when they just hadn't read it well enough. Can you even imagine?? She said she used to buy the occasional scratch off but stopped when she realized she could win without spending a thing! I told her she must have a lot of good karma out there that she's literally cashing in on. *gobsmack moment*

Then, tonight, a lady stopped to buy some cookies. We didn't have the ones she wanted, but she stayed around and asked a lot about the scouts and when we moved here, etc. She moved here about a year ago, and amazingly enough, she and her husband bought a house that Rick and I had looked at a couple of blocks away before we found this one. And it was one of those times where you meet someone and feel like you've known them ALWAYS. She has no children and surprisingly, my herd of heathens didn't deter her at all! (Hmm... maybe I need to requestion her mentality!) She and her husband ended up staying over for homemade pizza and hugs all around when they went to their own house. It was very weird in the grand scheme of things, but felt very natural in the moment. And all because two of my daughters were selling cookies at the curb.

Have I mentioned yet how scouting has changed MY life?

Oh, and the convenience worker who checked tickets there while talking to me? Well, she didn't win a thing today.But I still think about her karma being repaid, and then I think about my new friend made today, and perhaps that's my OWN karma being repaid as well.

And I like it.

Guts, Gore & The Quest for the Magical Solution

In an attempt to blog daily, I have to dig around my real life to find something of any significance and put it out there for the world, unless, of course, I want my blog to resort back to fluff and videos and things of no depth. No thanks.

Today I spent most of it on the phone. In a world of technology as we have it, it was like this flashback to the 90s and a phone to my ear all day. After countless issues with my website -- thankfully it wasn't me, the user (who designed it) but an issue with the hosting site -- and after continuing to talk for about two hours, we came to the conclusion that what I want cannot be done, at least by them. So they refer me to another blogging site which supposedly CAN do what I want. Great. So I scurry my fingertips over there and fiddle around for two hours just to realize that it's not as easy as blogger and I'm not sure I really care all that much for the time and energy it's already taken out of my life especially given that the "five minute download" didn't even seem to take.

Gah!!

So I stop and think: Is what I want so important to me that I'm willing to make myself insane to get it, read a gazillion things and hope it works out, invest unlimited number of hours to make it look like I want (assuming I ever get that far anyway!!!) when I've already invested so much time and energy and love into the blog and website I have. The answer is no.

Disclaimer: If someone can help me easily figure this out, rock on. Otherwise, I'm done with the idea until I sell some books and can hire someone to magically do what I want.

So that's the bottom line: What do I want and what am I willing to do/not do to get it?

And then there's my beautiful and brilliant daughter who is in that god-awful age of truly still-a-kid-but-really-an-adult in college crisis. She wants this, but fears that. She needs this, but is told that. She's spinning. All I can do is stick my hand out and attempt to slow down the speeding merry-go-round she can't seem to get off of and hope that my slowing it down is enough so she can jump off and get back on track to the future that's waiting out there. But part of her issues are what others say, what others think, and granted, they are significant in their stance in her life "as others". Their words and opinions carry a great, great weight. But in the end, it's her life. It's her future. The decisions she makes are hers alone.

I'm thrilled when she calls for my opinion, and I'm even thrilled when she calls The Others for theirs. But I'm not thrilled when she calls me even more confused than she had been after I'd slowed the spinning, even temporarily. Nor do I like the sound of defeat and indifference in her voice when she hits the "I really don't care anymore, I'll do whatever." When she loses her passion, it ups mine to feverish degrees. As her mother, I have to verbally cattle-prod her into believing these dreams are still viable, to transfer some of MY tenacity back into HER passion.

But at the end of the day, her choices with school -- although much, much grander and heavier than my webpage ones -- are the same: Where's your bottom line? What do you refuse to compromise on? What must you have and what are you willing to give up? Every path we wander down, whether creating a webpage for a hopeful future or deciding college choices for a hopeful future -- well, they're ours. We have to claim them, own them, nourish them, so we have to make sure the details are worth the pain and gore to get to the magical solution of The End.

Whether The End of a novel or The End of the college education, it's a bumping, gory road, but the pain will so be worth it.

I promise, baby girl. It will be.

Puppy Love and other Bodily Fluids

With all great things comes a bit of ewwy. I think that's what keeps us grounded in reality as opposed to the fantasies we all wish our lives were, at least to some extend (there's a REASON why romance sells so well, people, even in recessions.) And with those big, big puppy eyes comes little surprises from the other end.

Somewhere in this six month old puppy's life, he was abused. I'm definitely not saying it was the owners right before us -- they'd had him a short time, from my understanding. I'm just stating with absolute fact that some human out there -- beyond any inkling of a doubt -- abused this precious animal. He's horribly afraid of feet. If we move, he ducks, although NOW he ducks with his tail wagging. So someone has kicked him. And his first night home, Rick went to hand me some papers and Casanova tried to climb into my head to get away from the source, so someone has hit him with papers.

There's a special, horrific circle of hell for animal abusers.

But he's made such huge strides. Oliver, the black pug, is teaching him how to be a PUPPY and not a quivering mass of nervousness. He pounces now, jogs after Oliver, tries to wrestle away toys. Oliver, being just one year old, is still a lot of puppy himself, but instead of jealousy, he's taken his role of big brother and is taking Casanova and showing him how it's done, what it's like to live in a house where being a puppy is okay, even with occasional accidents, where you're cuddled to pieces and coo'ed at until you wish those long, long hound dogs ears had an OFF switch. It's been just four days, but to see the changes in this animal feel like so much more. And just think: Only 12 more years or so for us to drown out the violent months of his life and replace them with more love then one dog could ever hope for.

He's snuggled down on the couch next to Rick while big, fat, wet cotton snowflakes fall outside our window and it looks like a postcard as I sit here and watch.

Then I realize it is: It's a post card of my new life.

WISH YOU WERE HERE!
~Bren

Times Are a'Changin'

So let's see -- it's been since September since I updated my blog. I could easily blame this on Facebook. I mean, let's admit, those tiny and not-so-tiny details of your life, including photos, are so easy to put there and everyone from grandma to your first friend at five years old to writing buddies and online friends can see it instantly. Makes updating this a little less -- well, frankly, necessary. But, having said that, I'm doing it anyway.

First change, of course, for those who noticed: NEW BLOG LAYOUT! I wanted it to match the website a little better but also, I needed a change of all things from attitude to life in general to even how my blog looks. Don't knock the small stuff.

So what's happened since September? Well, the divorce was completed at long last, and remember that post I made in January 2009 about watching the world through the windows and how I have to make changes to my entire life to fix that little issue? Oh man oh man, have I made those changes.

I have no doubt in my mind at all that there are a few toxic individuals I've had the displeasure of knowing who still come here to see what I'm saying (one of the reasons I haven't posted in so long -- don't feed the hyenas) but then I realized they really have zero to do with me and my new life anymore, and that includes releasing any power they think they had/have by doing what I want, when I want, INSPITE of their constant presence. To those people, I hope one day you can find your own peace without it being at the expense of someone else. You truly do not have to lie, manipulate, and lose all morality in order to be "better". Promise.

Now that those issues have been addressed, where was I? Oh right -- January '09 Watching Life Through the Window Thingy. Right after I'd typed that post, I met an amazing individual named Rick Sanders, and despite my huge, huge issues and my huge, huge amount of offspring, something insane inside him decided to love me anyway. He moved to Cameron (can you even believe it?!) and we bought a house and now we're working on our own happily-ever-after, and over a year later we're doing a damn fine good job of it. Then, in September, Syd Vicious joined Girl Scouts -- first time in like 20 years GS have been in our town -- and lo' and behold -- I'm the Junior Leader, and I have to tell you, I LOVE IT. It has changed my life beyond words, and only those who truly knew me could appreciate how much of an impact these two things -- Rick and Girl Scouts with Sydney and Carly -- have changed me as an individual and mostly as a mother.

And now that so much of my personal life is finally obtaining serenity (did we EVER think this day would come?!), I'm writing again. *gasp*shock*omg-you're-lying!* Nope, it's true, and just recently even entered a contest again. And Rick is determined I make it to Nationals again having missed the last couple of years. AND, in the manner of support-his-woman that he is, he's going to drive me to Nashville himself. Now my goal is to write on my blog as much as possible, even if it's not all sunshine and rainbows, and to be ME. And if there are those out there who support me and what I write here, FANTASTIC! And if not, there's an X at the top of the screen. Feel free to click it.

And for those who ever read 100 random things about me, Rick just fulfilled another one off my list: I now own a basset hound puppy.

And I named him Casanova.

Temporary reassignment

For the next few weeks, my usual website is down and moved to a new location, a dot info instead of my usual dot net. This is because I received conflicting emails, saying my auto-renewal had posted, then another one saying it was due, blah blah blah, and when I finally called them today about it, lo and behold, those emails were for two different things. I'm sure if I was a bit geekier in my knowledge of All Things Computers, this wouldn't have gotten mixed up as it did. And, of course, being that I'm a huge loser, my website hasn't even been finished or updated since January. Okay, so I've had a few huge, life-altering things occur this year... sue me. No, don't really sue me. Humor.

Or, ya know, a pale attempt at it.

So... for those who may occasionally wander onto brendabradshaw.net, and can't find it, you now know to go to brendabradshaw.info.

In bigger and more exciting news today: SEASON PREMIER OF NCIS! WOOT!

That's all.

As Ms. Julia Quinn said it best...

"This is why I write romance."

For those who follow me on Facebook as well as this blog, sorry for the double posting, but I wanted it on here too!

Let me hear that BOOM BOOM POW -- Wait, in CAMERON?!

1) This is not a joke. The following events are true and accurate and experienced by yours truly.

2) Cameron, TX: Population approx. 5300 (yes, really)

3) Time since moving into the new house: two weeks

So, for those who are familiar with the blog, it comes as no surprise that I'm writing about this Sunshiny Town called Cameron, which I sometimes (lovingly...*cough*) refer to as God Spit, Texas. This is another of those posts.

It's a gorgeous June Tuesday night (nope, not even a WEEKEND! Can you even believe it?!) and I'm sitting outside on my beautiful deck while my four babies frolick in the new pool. They have Shan's laptop playing music to which they've choreographed this odd pool-dance thing to. I'm standing on my deck, watching the refreshing shimmering blue of the pool, the beaming smiles of my amazingly talented children when all of the sudden...

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three gunshots in rapid succession. We all freeze then instantly jump into action, herding the smaller ones out of the pool and up the deck as another three

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

explode in the air, sounding like they're RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE!

The kids are screaming and Carly scurries them all into the bathroom (smallest window, like this is a tornado or something) while I snag my cell and dial 911 while opening another drawer and pulling out the Constantly-Loaded-Walther, also known from hence forth as WALT. I dash back out the door onto the deck and I'm telling dispatch that I heard three shots in rapid succession, about a 30 second pause then three more shots. She kind of puts me on hold and takes another call of someone else reporting it, but apparently this guy went out his FRONT door and got a look at the car as it sped away, and noted that the gangster was right-minded enough to turn on his stupid left blinker when he got to the four-way stop two blocks down. How socially conscious of him. JERK!

I hear voices from the deck. Our house sits on a full city block, a total 0.51 acre, so our side neighbors share their backyards to our backyard. Two neighbors to our one backyard. Make sense? So we all start comparing notes.

THEN! I see from the backyard that going down the road is someone on a GOLF CART! HUH?!?! Oh wait... it's the HIGH SCHOOL PRINCIPAL! No, I'm not kidding.

Now, for the record, I grew up in Dallas/Ft Worth. I lived in Cove for awhile where we did have some stabbings at the schools. But in CAMERON?! Gangs?! Uh... okay.

So, in the end, it's a block party. And I'm not kidding. 10:30pm and the intersection is filled with cops and detectives searching for casings (they found four of the six) and all the neighbors gathered together. So, I got to meet some new neighbors I hadn't met yet. That's nice, right? Then more people start to show up who HEARD IT ON THE POLICE SCANNER and came to check it out, all saying hi to each other and blah blah blah and "How is your grandmother doin'? She good? Good to hear it!"

I stand there, godsmacked.

The police and the neighbors all reassure me that in all their lives living here on "this side of town", they'd NEVER heard gunfire or any gang activities. Yeah sure. Not only did it sound right in my front yard, but it was in the street literally in front of it. I'm kinda thinking they were aiming at the the principal; he lives next door about 1/2 a block down. HE, of course, thought my house was the target. The casings were found right between us, so I'll go on thinking they targetted him and he'll probably keep thinking that they targetted me and we'll both revel in our denial.

About a year after moving here and living out in the country, I'd heard a gunshot then too (I'm pretty sure I blogged about that too). The cops came out and said it was someone shooting snakes. Eeep. But this wasn't snakes. This wasn't the country. This was a few blocks from the schools in the middle of "the good part of town". Very scary in this odd surreal way of everyone hanging out, and all that was missing was a bonfire and marshmellows on sticks.

The weird part? Yes, I mean weirder than the above. Shandie's friend was telling her some details, and get this! It was members from this gang: Eighteen and a Half.

I'm not kidding.

This town has "half" streets. So like 401 N. 15 1/2. So they have a GANG named EIGHTEEN AND A HALF?!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Better hope 15 3/4 doesn't raise up to take you on! And you better really hope you don't ever meet the gangs in Austin or Dallas where they're not named after HALF STREETS.

This has been your newest Cameron update. A shout out to my new neighbors, especially the across the street neighbor Mr. Hooker, the high school principal and owner of the golf cart. You rock!

I hate April

The following conversation took place via text messages with my oldest daughter, Shandie, who is currently at Texas State University.

Shandie: Mom, I have to be out of my dorm by 5pm tomorrow.

Me: What?!

Shandie: Are you going to be able to come and get me?

Me: April Fool, huh?

Shandie: I wish. They did a search of my dorm and found alcohol and cocaine in my dresser.

Me: Cocaine.

Shandie: I've been suspended for a full semester. I'm losing all of this semester's credits with no refund. (Side note: That really is the school policy...)

Me: Sucks to be you then. (She lost me on the cocaine. Bad drug choice on her part.)

Shandie: Thankfully they didn't find the prostitutes under my bed.

Me: I just hope they were MALE prostitutes.

Shandie: You know they weren't. I had me a tranny. As Hannah Montanna says, "You get the best of both worlds."

Me: Hit Mimi (my mom) with this next.

Meanwhile, I'm trying not to wet myself in the van while laughing hysterically at the Hannah Montanna quote. Mimi does not have texting, so Shandie had to do it all via telephone and have NO DOUBT that she did, indeed, make that particular call. I think there was an odd glee Shan got when hearing the distress in my mother's voice as she wove her little tale of lies. And my parents thought I was bad. The worst I ever did to my mother was the "Mom, I'm pregnant." Every year for years and years, I did that call, even two years after I had my hysterectomy. Welcome to the new world generation with people like Shandie with their Hannah Montanna and tranny prostitutes.

Monday's Music

Say your sorry
That face of an angel comes out
Just when you need it to.
As I pace back and forth
All this time cause
I honestly believed in you.
Holdin' on
The days drag on
Stupid girl I should have known, I should have known.

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you sweep off her feet,
Lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now it's to late for you and your white horse to come around.

Maybe I was naÎve, got lost in your eyes,
and never really had a chance.
my mistake, I didn't know to be in love
you had to fight to have the upper hand
I had so many dreams about you and me.
Happy endings, well now I know...

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you sweep off her feet,
lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now its too late for you and your white horse to come around.

And there you are on your knees.
Begging for forgiveness, begging for me.
Just like I always wanted but, I'm so sorry.

Cause I'm not your princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm gonna find someone some day, who might actually treat me well.
This is a big world.
That was a small town, there in my rearview mirror disappearing now.
And it's too late for you and your white horse...
Its too late for you and your white horse to
catch me now.