Where oh where did that little idea go?

Have you ever counted how many ideas you’ve had in a day, week, month, or year?  Maybe you’re not quite sure exactly how many ideas you’ve had at any given time because you had no way of keeping track of them.  We get them all the time—while we’re lying in bed at night and waiting for sleep to grace us with its presence, while we watch our favorite TV show, and even when we’re stuck in the 405 traffic nightmare.

In the past, when I used to get ideas (whether they be for stories or for inventions), I’d seem to get them at the most inopportune time—driving … always while driving.  In any event, I may have remembered I had said idea once I parked and got out of the car, but because work was vying for much of my brain capacity, I ended up telling myself that I wouldn’t do anything with the idea anyway and I should just forget about it.

I look back on that attitude and say, “What. The. Fuck.”  If I could go back in time and slap myself, I would.  But, no one has invented time travel (that I’m aware of), so instead I changed the way I dealt with ideas.  I actually took the time to write them down even if I don’t know what to do with them yet or have the time to dedicate to bringing them to fruition.  Because I don’t carry around a pen and paper everywhere I go, I use the note function on my phone.  I often get the best ideas for new books when I’m doing things other than writing:  sleeping (dreams are awesome for new book ideas!), watching TV, cleaning, you get the point.

I digress … where I’m going with this is to say that no matter who, what, why, where, or when, you should always write your ideas down.  Even if you don’t think you have time to deal with them or put them to action.  You might and you should write them down to remind yourself that you thought of that idea in hopes of taking some action sometime in the future.  

Back in 2011, when we were test driving our new Toyota Tundra, I remember sitting in the backseat and watching the Nav screen while Bryan drove.  As we travelled down the road, points of interest popped up such as gas stations or places to eat.  I was still working at Expedia and the company was working on mobile apps (among other things) for booking travel.  I remember thinking how great it would be if Expedia was able to contract with a company like Toyota to incorporate a booking engine in conjunction with the Nav system so you could search up hotels or activities nearby to book through the Nav on your way there.

That was 2011.  Although I thought about the idea from time-to-time, I didn’t write it down and it never went anywhere.  Fast forward to present day where I’ve recently traded in my 2008 Toyota Highlander for a 2015 model.  We’re checking out all the features and guess what?  You can voice request the nearest Starbucks, or Hyatt Hotel, or whatever and it shows up on the Nav.  I’m sure there’s Internet access on there, too.  Many cars have all these things that now tie into your phone’s network to go online (think:  Facebook, Pandora, you name it) and I’m sure there are some cars out there that already have apps that allow you to book travel (they have an app to book a restaurant reservation, so why not a hotel?).

So, the moral of the story is this:  write that shit down.  As soon as possible.  Post it in a prominent place where you’ll see it every damn day because it will serve as a reminder that you need to get off your ass and do something with that idea.  If you don’t, you’ll be like me … kicking myself for not exploring a really great idea.  Don’t be like  “this” me.

One step away from the banned book list?

I’m an author because I love to write and to share stories with my readers.  When I first ventured into this creative world, I didn’t want to be limited in what my stories included.  I wanted to write without fear of being censored … I wanted to write about things that happen in real life … I wanted to include situations in my stories that people could relate to.

Apparently, though, if you do this, you have an opportunity to be turned away from a seller because of what they consider “questionable or prohibited content.”  You might even find yourself landing on the “banned book list” simply because you chose to be yourself in your writing and to share your creativity in the way that mattered to you.

This recently happened to me:  a company that shall remain un-named refused to sell my second book on their site because they felt it contained prohibited content.  Aside from the fact they aren’t consistently applying this lens to all the items on their site, it’s frustrating that I’ve worked so hard on a story only to have it not available to my readers through a popular medium.  What happens when my readers look me up and only find books one and three there.  Do they wonder where the heck book two is?  Do they think I just didn’t write the second book and the story skips from freshman year straight to junior year?

I understand that companies have the right to refuse what they sell on their sites.  Fine.  If that’s the case, then be consistent.  What I don’t understand is the bigger picture of why prohibited or questionable content is even an issue?  It’s almost like we’re living in the 1950s again and topics like nudity and sex are a subject that people would rather keep locked behind closed doors.  

Come on, Corporate America.  You’re more mature than that.  Get with the program and understand that what you consider “prohibited or questionable content” happens on a daily basis in this fine country of ours.  Why would we want to shroud it in darkness and push it off the shelves and lock it up in the “do not touch” wall safe?  I have a novel idea…slap a sticker on it that it contains adult  themes and let the general public choose whether or not they want to buy and/or read it!  You do that with music, so why not books?  

Until this organization is able to bring its thinking into the 21^st century, you can still find my second book at those retailers that do support creativity such as Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com.  Yay for some companies that still believe an author’s creativity shouldn’t be censored or put on a “do not touch” shelf!

Friend, interrupted

Recently, I did my first unfriending of someone on Facebook.  It was the first time I had done so and I didn’t do it lightly.  I’m not one to go through and purge my friend list because I don’t talk much to this person or that person has different views from my own, and I’ll admit that I do get a little hurt when I see a friend has decided to unfriend me, leaving me wondering what I did to end up on the D list. 

In this particular instance of my own version of unfriending, I got to the point where I just couldn’t handle the bigotry and the negativity about everything that wasn’t this person’s view.  After reading some of this person’s posts, I was left scratching my head and wondering why they seem so hateful and unable to accept that there are different people in this world.  In real life, I never had an inkling this is how they were.  In fact, they were quiet, unassuming, and seemed open to hearing everyone’s views.  Online; however, this person is completely different and I’m left wondering if that’s how they actually are in real life.

I understand that people will have different opinions than I will and I accept that.  As I said earlier, I don’t unfriend people just because they have a belief that I don’t share.  However, it becomes a problem when they aren’t willing to reciprocate with understanding and listen to what others have to say.  It also becomes a problem when they come to the table with unsubstantiated half-truths or say, with conviction, that something has occurred when in fact it’s quite the opposite.  Do your homework, people, lest you make yourself look like an idiot.

This is what I was privy to for months before hitting that “unfriend” button.  I thought about it long and hard before I did it and would often tell myself, “Maybe I just need to give this person another chance.  They have different views and that’s okay, isn’t it?”  Truth is; it wasn’t just about having different views.  It came down to bigotry and complete disregard for the idea of equal rights for everyone and I just couldn’t deal with it any longer.  And, why should I have to? 

For those of you still on my list and wondering if you’ll ever find yourself on my D list...I’m not quick to remove a person from my list and to be removed you have to do something pretty heinous or hateful, and even then I will probably give you several chances before deciding to end our Facebook friendship.  I love that I can connect and keep in touch with old and new friends alike on Facebook.  However, I realize I shouldn’t feel bad about deciding to remove toxicity from my life, no matter where it may lie in real life or online.  Just like we choose to watch a different television channel or listen to another radio station, we can choose to turn off or change the people we associate with.

Rest in peace, my furry friend

Tiggy enjoying his favorite pastime, sleeping in the sun.

It’s day three since I lost my cat soulmate, Tigger.  I cry at the drop of a hat because EVERYTHING reminds me of him, so much so that I find it hard to stomach being in my own house; my own house that used to be my sanctuary where I could relax and be inspired.  Now, it’s just a constant reminder of the one I’m missing the most, and even though my house is full of cats, it still feels empty because 

Tigger was the biggest personality in our home and he has left a very large hole.  My heart is broken. 

Tigger had lung cancer and it likely spread beyond that because it took him fast.  The first time the shadow appeared on his x-rays was back in March when he had a bout of breathing heavily and we took him in to see the vet.  Back then, we thought he just had pneumonia so we gave him a shot to help him fight it.  He got better and we didn’t think anything more about it.  Life went back to normal and he continued to eat, play, and snuggle with me albeit a little more than normal.  I had read somewhere that when cats get older, they tend to spend more time with their owners.  I had thought that was all it was.  Looking back on it now, I truly think he knew something was wrong and that he wouldn’t have much time so he was spending as much of it with me as he could because he knew I would take his passing hard.

We had so many nicknames for Tigger, among them:  Wooty, Bubby Woot, Tiggy.  He was very special.  He was so damn intelligent you could see the gears turning in his head as he looked at the world.  When he was a kitten, he figured out how to open the drawers in the kitchen to make stairs to the countertop and he was the only one of our cats to figure out how to open the doors in our house.  After we had Nyah and put child locks on all the cabinets, he figured out how they worked by pulling the cabinets open with his paw and watching where they caught so he could push the button down with one paw and pull the cabinet open with the other paw.  He got so good at it that he could open the cabinets with one paw.  We eventually had to take the locks off after he showed Nyah how to get around them. 

Tigger was a loving soul.  He took care of me whenever I was sick, always sleeping close by.  He insisted on sleeping in my nook, oftentimes waking me up in the middle of the night with head bumps against my cheek, whisker tickles on my face, and a soft meow if those two didn't work.  Sometimes, he’d turn on the purr to wake me enough to pick up the blanket.  Over the years it became second nature that he’d ask and I’d hold up the blanket, even when I was asleep as I often woke up with him snuggled in my nook with no recollect of how he got there.  When I changed positions he would climb out from the blankets, walk around my head, and insist I let him back into my nook.

Tiggy was also brave, athletic, comical, and many other things I can't even begin to describe because he was truly one of a kind.  I have so many memories of him that I have been recalling these past few days, helping to dry the tears.  I’m devastated and sad, needy for comfort; I’m an emotional mess.  But, I’m also angry that cancer took my Tiggy away.  Fucking cancer.  I hate it and I don’t understand how or why it could take my Bubby Woot away.  Along with the anger, sometimes I’m a little in denial that he’s gone.  It doesn’t feel real.  Often, I expect to see him greet me at the door when I come in or to watch him come trotting in that funny, floaty way that was all his own style to the food dish when I opened a can of wet food.  I think I’m probably hitting all the stages of grief at once and it’s overwhelming for a person’s psyche. 

People try to give comfort and some struggle and end up saying things that make the sting of losing Tiggy worse.  The best thing said thus far was probably from my friend, Nancy.  She recently went through this same thing and after saying she was sorry, she was honest and said, “I don’t know what to say.”  Because often you don’t know what to say and it feels like you have to say something.  But, being honest and telling someone you don’t know what to say to help them feel better about a shitty situation is the best thing you can do for them.

As Tiggy got older these past few years, I used to tell him that he needed to find the fountain of youth so he could live forever.  Tiggy has taken a piece of my heart and soul with him and I hope he knows how much I love and miss him.  I’m not sure where we go when we die, but I hope he’s happy and out of pain and I hope he knows just how much he touched our family when he was with us these past 17 years.  I hope to see you again on the flip side, Wooty.

Are you there deity? It's me, Megan

Recently, the topic of religion has been circling my head.  In discussion with a friend surrounded by horse whinnies, a conversation with my husband as campfire smoke swirled around us, and even in dreams where I’m among friends attempting (mostly) in vain at explaining where I stand as an agnostic.  I don’t go to church and worship, I don’t pray, I believe if there is some kind of deity out there everyone can find their own way to reach that person (if it even is a person), and I don’t believe in requirements to live by a certain set of ridiculous life rules.  Of course, these are just my own opinions.

It wasn’t as if I was raised in a really religious household where we did not work whatsoever on Sunday or prayed to God every night although I did have to attend Sunday school and sometimes go to church after.  I was raised Lutheran and tried my hand at Methodist for a few years before deciding none of it was really for me.  Truth is, I abhor the very idea of organized religion.  It’s become so commercial, selfish, and expectant of how we should live our lives to the point it’s left a very bad taste in my mouth.  In any event, I’ve been done with church, religion, and all that jazz for a long time.  Years even. 

What I’m not done with is the idea that there may be something out there, I just don’t have the answers nor do I really feel a strong need to know.  I honestly just want to live my life to the best of my ability without someone peering down their nose at me through black-shade glasses coming from a world where gay is a state of mind, you are born the gender you are meant to be and you better stay that way, and marriage should only be between the opposite sex.  With all the recent media surrounding Christianity beliefs and gay people, same-sex marriage discouragers, transgender issues, and molestation and rape among the God-fearing Christians, it’s no wonder so many people have begun to question why the hell they’re praying to a deity that thinks it’s okay to treat other people that are different like shit or to pick and choose whose sins are forgiven and which of us are going to hell.

It’s both funny and interesting that most of the negative and hateful shit comes from those that claim to be religious.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an atheist or an agnostic spew the same garbage we hear from staunch believers/worshippers of Thee Great Almighty.  Okay, I will admit that not all religions are on my shit list.  I recently saw a billboard that hit home for me, which read something like this:  A loving atheist is better than a hateful Christian.  Believe it or not, this actually came from a church.  Now I ask you, why can’t all religions have that same outlook?