Random things I learned and thought about while taking a social media break:

My kid loves his college… and that makes me love his college.

Self-doubt sucks. I seriously considered not writing anymore. It wasn’t until my husband said “So don’t write anymore” that got my head back into it. Sometimes you need permission to stop in order to go. (Or I just like to do the opposite of what my husband says. That’s always a possibility. … More like a probability)

Joe Manganiello and Scott Eastwood do nothing for me…. even with their shirts off. But Beto Malfacini … that’s a man full of yum. Look at him … Delicious.
(It’s okay…my eyes went there first too.)

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I love the characters in my book. I wish they were real. I would hang out with them. Drink a few beers, eat a few cupcakes. One of the best compliments I ever received was that they were so “normal.” Julia knows who she is… she knows she’s flawed and she owns up to it. She’s a slob and has broken makeup at the bottom of her handbag…. she’s human. She never settles for anything less than what she knows she deserves. I think it’s a great message. Allie may seem  off-the- wall and flaky… but damn, she’s fun and fiercely loyal. And Ben…. Someone once asked me why Ben wasn’t written as one of those Uber Edgy Alphas that’s so popular now. My answer was simple… Julia would never have fallen in love with him. Ben may have his flaws but he’s always truthful, patient and a good man. I love that they feel real to the readers, because to me… they are real.

I can’t curb my Big Brother spoilers’ addiction.

I’m a crappy gardener, but I’m going to do it again next year.

Pinterest is a time sucker… and I’m a sucker for Pinterest.

My fanfiction Late Night Thoughts was featured in an online magazine based in Paris (complete with the English version and French version links to the story). My original intention was to take it down a few weeks after I completed the story, but two years later, I’m still receiving positive and often times, very touching messages about it. So it stays.

I’m excellent at making long lists of things I’m going to accomplish for the day… I’m even better at ignoring those lists.

I should blog more often because I enjoy writing them.

I need to diet and exercise again… as soon as the bag of Pepperidge Farm cookies and the Party Cake Ice cream are gone, I swear.

I plan on prettying up this website and adding a proper mailing list, when I… and by “I”, I mean my husband… has the time.  I’d like to give the illusion that I’m legit and Authory <— yes, I can create words at will. Please subscribe to this blog for the unveiling… in oh, let’s say eight or nine years.

This brief break has shown me that I’m too easily distracted. I want to give The Casual Rule 3 the attention it deserves.  Although I’m not taking another break (I know me too well), I am dwindling my time online. So forgive me if I’m slow to wish you a Happy Anything or answer a PM (which gets lost in my mailbox half the time anyway).

Enough of my babbling. (See how easily distracted I get?) I have a book to finish. Back to the cave I go.

Thanks again to all who have supported me and my writing. Thank you for reading.  Thank you for reviewing.  Thank you for your private messages. Thank you for asking for more Julia and Ben.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be doing this.

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Click on for links to the Books.  The Casual Rule should be read first.

Twenty Things I Hate

Full disclosure before you read this: I’ve been sick for over a week with a killer cold and I’m hopped up on sinus medication while I write this. I make no guarantees it will make any sense. Read at your own risk.

Okay, now that the warnings of medicated stupidity are over…

I’m cranky as hell. I feel like crap. My head has so much pressure I can’t concentrate long enough to write anything for the book or proofread anything already written (hence the warning above). In the spirit of my crankiness, I was mulling over things I dislike. I’m trying to be upbeat by not using the word “hate” even though in my current mood… it may be the better choice.

So here’s a short list of twenty things I greatly dislike most days and hate today (is that better?)

1- Julia Roberts: I don’t know what it is about her that turns me off so much. I liked her in Notting Hill, but that’s because Hugh Grant was in it. Hugh Grant I like. On the off chance that she is reading this… Dear Julia- I didn’t mean to write Julia Roberts, I meant Doris Roberts.

2-Channing Tatum : Sorry, I know the ladies swoon for this guy, but I don’t see it. Yeah, he has a nice body, but the rest… pass. Unless he’s reading this, then I meant Carol Channing (I don’t; she’s a national treasure)

3- Plastic Wrap: It always rips at the wrong spot, sticks to itself and frustrates the hell out of me. I’m pretty certain it thinks it’s smarter than me… and it just may be.

4- Empty toilet paper rolls on the toilet paper holder: It’s a reminder of how lazy my family can be. They take out a new roll of toilet paper and place it on top of the empty roll, but don’t bother to remove the empty cardboard roll and replace it.

5- Buying gasoline: I live in one of two states in the country where you cannot pump your own gas. In my lifetime, I have never pumped my own gas (that should probably go on my tombstone: Here lies AC Netzel- Never Pumped Gas). The fact that I never need to leave my car, face the elements should mean getting gas is no big deal. Once the gas light comes on in my car, I’m filled with dread. There’s no reasonable explanations. All I do is hand the attendant my debit card and my participation is complete. But I hate it.

6- When make-up crud gathers in the corner of my eyes. Gross, just gross.

7- People who saunter through the grocery store: The perfect birthday gift for me would be an hour … alone in a grocery store. With no saunter-ers (I made that word up). No chatty neighbors. No aisle hogs. No sudden cart stoppers.

8- Ambrosia: I know it’s dessert, but it looks like a hot mess to me.

9- Aaron Neville’s Mole: The guy is super talented. But his mole: I don’t know much, but I know I don’t like it.

10- People who say “I know how you feel” when they can’t possibly know how I feel.

11- Ball Pits: When my daughter was a toddler, she had a panic attack in one of the tubes in a ball pit playground at a local fast food chain. I was eight months pregnant with baby #2 at the time. I had to climb in to help her out. I wasn’t one of those pretty “just pregnant from the front women”, I was pregnant EVERYWHERE. Once inside, I saw the horrors that no parent should see. Not only were there filthy balls festering with germs, but there was a corner where some toddler peed. Yes, a pee puddle inside. I had to get my daughter out, without disturbing the pee… then I had to slide my fat pregnant ass down a tube slide. Last time we went there.

12- All the Trump men’s hair: Dudes, you have the money. Fork over the ten bucks, go to a mall and ask the barber to give you a proper haircut. And the gel? Lose it. It’s not working for any of you. I don’t know if the Trump Men lost a bet and that’s why they wear that hair… but it has to stop. Donald, Donald Jr., Eric… Please, find a stylist.

13- People who use big words when simpler words will do. You’re not impressing anyone.

14- My hair on humid days. Hot mess.

15- People who think it’s acceptable to walk up to a pregnant woman and pat her stomach. No, no, no, no, no. That crosses so many personal space and respect lines. This is never okay.

16- Loud sippers: You know people who sip their coffee with that “nails on a chalkboard” loud sippy sound? Ugh. My father was a loud coffee sipper. Loved the man, hated that sound. Or the soda gulpers. Cut it out. Drink like a human. Unless you have a medical condition and you have no choice, don’t slurp. Especially in public.

17- One-Uppers: You know these people. You have a story and they always have a better story. They’re so insecure; they have to steal everyone else’s limelight. Asswipes.

18- Highway Drifters: PICK A DAMN LANE and stay with it.

19- The consistency of tofu: Food shouldn’t be spongy.

20- People who try to force me to take a picture. I don’t like having my photo taken. I never have, even when I was a kid. There are probably ten pictures of me in existence. If I say no… I mean no. Respect it and move on. You’re not going to needle me until I change my mind. It will make me hate you more.

~o0o~

I could go on and on…until the meds wear off anyway, but you get the picture. Feel free to share.

My 2015 Foolproof New Years Resolutions

It’s that time of year where we make conscious decisions to better ourselves in the coming year. Ah, the promise of a new year, a clean slate, a new beginning. Like everyone else, I make several pacts with myself to do all the things I promised I’d do on January 1st of the previous year.

I’ll eat healthy, lose weight, exercise, garden, and organize my life. I’ll be the person I knew I could be: a better person, a stronger person… a purposeful person.

After Christmas, I began the planning process. After all, no good project (which is what I consider myself) comes without a carefully thought out plan. I pinned the hell out of Pinterest. I have countless pins of “detox water” recipes (incidentally, 2015 is looking to be the year of the great cucumber/lime-infused pee).

I can make pizza with a cauliflower crust and bake cakes without shortening. I have playlists to walk, jog, and dance to. I’m holding onto cardboard toilet paper rolls to organize my phone chargers. I’m going to recycle and repurpose every pallet Costco is trashing and build a new house with the wood, complete with indoor and outdoor pallet furniture.

Plans for the garden? Let’s just say the head gardeners at New York Botanical Gardens and The White House Rose Garden will seek my advice once they witness my living works of art.

Like most of you, everything on my usual resolution list will be a complete and total failure. None of these things will happen. By January 3rd (I’m being generous here)… this will all be a laughable memory.

So I’ve come up with a solution. A new list… a fail-proof list. Instead of listing all the things I’ll do… why not make a list of all the things I won’t do. (I know, it’s brilliant in its simplicity). Come December 31st, 2015, I will proudly say that I saw all my 2015 Resolutions through.

So here it is. The list of 2015 Resolutions I will keep.

– I will not have dinner on the International Space Station.
– I will not marry Neil Patrick Harris.
– I will not win Jeopardy (unless it’s teen week, then I think I have a shot.)
– I will not share lip-gloss with Vladimir Putin.
– I will not have my prostate examined
– I will not tower over Shaquille O’Neal.
– I will not lay naked on a banquet table while sushi is served on top of me.
– I will not be The Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker ballet.
– I will not perform open heart surgery
– I will not be a sister wife.
– I will not win The Amazing Race or The Voice.
– I will not check my mailbox looking for a letter from Shaun Cassidy thanking me for the fan letter I sent to him when I was twelve. ( I’m Da-Do-Done-Done with you, Shaun!)
– I will not stare at the crotches of the Men’s Olympic swimmers anymore. (This is a lie. I will… and you know you will too.)
– I will not win an Olympic Gold in Curling.
– I will not not drink wine (that’s a trick resolution- double negatives rock!)
– I will not sing a duet with Tony Bennett (unless I’m drunk and you convince me you’re Tony Bennett.)
– I will not win Miss Nude 2015.
– I will not say “Yay! It’s snowing!”
– I will not date Sugar Bear… Momma June scares me.
– I will not star as a love interest in Sharknado 3.
– I will not take George Clooney back when he realizes the mistake he made marrying “that woman”.
So there ya go… Fool Proof Success.

There is just one thing I will do. Enjoy life and remember every day is a gift.

I wish you Happiness, Health and Peace in 2015.

 

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Here’s some very cool news to end the year. My book, The Casual Rule (the link is to your right) was listed as “One of the Best of 2014” by Natalie at Love Between The Sheets.

Here’s what she said:
The Casual Rule by AC Netzel: This book was pure gold. Adorable, witty, heartwarming, sweet, sexy. I had such a fun time reading. Author AC Netzel was able to take a topic that we have all read before, ‘friends-with-benefits’, and turn it into something all her own. The characters felt genuine and were easily likable, the dialogue made me laugh and the romance was just perfect.

Link below:
http://romanceatrandom.com/best-of-the-year-2014/

A huge thank you to Natalie and everyone who has read my book. From the bloggers who took time out of their busy lives : Love Between the Sheets, Three Chicks and Their Book Blog, Nerd Girl, Live and Breathes Book Blog, Hooks & Books, Romance of Daydreams, and G & The Book Divas Blog ( I apologize if I forgot someone) to my fanfiction fans to someone who randomly took a chance on an unknown author.   It’s truly humbling to know that Julia, Ben, and Allie put a smile on your face. I love them and I’m thrilled you do too.

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Fanfiction friends: I updated A Different Way on Dec 27th. Here’s the link in case you missed it.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8737857/25/Fifty-Shades-A-Different-Way

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One last thing:

Starting in January, it may be harder to see facebook posts on my Author page (the page you “LIKE”). If you want to be sure you get updates from me (and who wouldn’t … I’ve met me — I’m delightful) here’s how to do it.

*Subscribe to this blog
* Friend me on Facebook at AC Netzel ( for fanfiction snippets, original writings and whatever crosses my mind) : Here’s a shortcut: http://tinyurl.com/ou5urcq
*Find Me on Twitter at @ACNetzel
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*Find Me on Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/m47qqg5
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*My Amazon Author Page : http://tinyurl.com/mchxsah

*Find me on TSU: https://www.tsu.co/AuthorACNetzel

‘LIKE’ my facebook Author Page. Here’s a shortcut: http://tinyurl.com/kkbnfcl

How do you grow a vegetable garden?

Beets me! < —  See what I did there.

I thought I’d bring you up to speed on this year’s vegetable garden. Like every backyard farmer, I start off with grand plans. My family will live off the land. The initial investment of vegetables, soil, etc. will be offset by the bounty my garden will produce.

You get the picture. Anyone who has tried backyard farming feels the exact same way… in the beginning.

Buckets filled with fresh-picked green beans. A bounty of tomatoes. So many tomatoes… I’d have to learn how to can them for all the sauce (by the way, it’s sauce… not gravy… I’m not budging on that topic) I’ll make and eventually freeze. Oh, and the zucchini. The plant that produces so much, you’ll only need two to provide enough to feed not only your family, but your entire neighborhood. Mmm, I can smell the zucchini bread. I can just taste the zucchini sautéed in garlic and oil over a plate of linguine. And the cucumbers… cool and refreshing. I had the perfect plan.

My facebook page is always littered with photos of my friend’s vegetable harvests. I was looking forward to doing the same… participate in a little farmer bragging.

So, I prepped the garden. And I worked my ass off, weeding, tilling… the whole she-bang. The sun was hot, the work was hard and tedious… but the end result… the glorious bounty my garden would produce would more than make up for it.

Most home farmers know there’s always one crop that dominates. One plant that produces more than you can possibly handle… but happily accept. Your pride and joy crop.

Here’s mine:

Weeds.

We were hit with a ton of rain over a five-day period in June. A ton. Although I missed some beach/writing time, I found my silver lining… no watering the garden and fighting the mosquitoes that always seem to latch on to the scent of my Sicilian blood.

When the rain finally stopped, I went outside to survey my farm. And this is what I found. Like someone dropped a giant bag of weed seed directly on my vegetable beds. I couldn’t determine what were bean plants and what were plain ol’ weeds. Ends up the bean seeds drowned… not one plant sprouted. Not a single one.

I tried to pull them, but I’m not exaggerating when I say it was a carpet of weeds. I have never seen anything grow so incredibly fast. I can’t get the grass on my front lawn to grow as lush as these weeds had. I couldn’t keep up. I’d pull one and three new weeds would spring up. It proved to be an impossible obstacle to overcome.

Here are my green bean and cucumbers. Awesome, aren’t they?

Okay, let’s move on to my zucchini plants. The one crop I was sure would be my pride and joy and the envy of the neighborhood.

Yep, there it is in all its glory. I have another one. This is a picture of the healthier plant.

Here’s my cucumber… No, your eyes are not deceiving you; there is an actual cucumber on that plant.

It’s smaller than a marshmallow. But it’s something. I’m not counting that as a total failure. We’ll say it’s failure-ish… with a tiny sliver of victory.

And lastly, my tomatoes. You know the giant harvest I planned on transforming into gallons of the best homemade sauce (once again… not gravy) ever made.

You may have to squint but they are there, in the midst of the weed jungle. And I managed to produce a few tomatoes. A few the damn chipmunks got to them… bastard vegetable stealing critters… but I picked a good four tiny tomatoes. I guessing it’s a safe bet that I can return the case of canning jars I purchased.

So there you have it… my crop of weeds. Such a proud moment. < — Sarcastic Bitch Comment.

Some of you may remember my husband’s “Glamour Crop” from last year. The watermelon the size of a quarter. Well, he’s at it again… tackling yet another watermelon glamour crop this year.

Here’s a picture of it today:

Yes, that is climbing up a very light weight screen from a screen house wall.

Yup, this is going to end well.

I’ll keep you up to date in whether that plant actually produces anything or tears down my screehouse in the coming weeks.

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Now on to Business:

 

The Casual Rule:

If you haven’t downloaded a copy of my book The Casual Rule… what are you waiting for? If you don’t own a Kindle, you can download the free Kindle App from Amazon and start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer – no Kindle device required.

Amazon US link: http://tinyurl.com/osl87fb

Amazon UK link: http://tinyurl.com/nx374jq

Amazon AU link: http://tinyurl.com/ntcasyb

Amazon CA link: http://tinyurl.com/nf3yt56

And many other countries…check out your Amazon links.

Here’s the three newest Blurbs:

As many of you know, I’ve been writing book two to The Casual Rule. (Allie and Marcello… they do make me laugh). I’ll keep you updated on it as I go.

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Fanfiction:

My intention was to have A Different Way chapter up weeks ago. What I forgot is how insane the summer can be. My and my husband’s birthdays were in July. Both BIG ONES. That meant family over the course of a few days. Then there’s college visits for my kid. That meant travel and time. BBQs, Birthday parties, Engagement parties… you get the picture, the summer turned into a long unscheduled time-sucker.

That said, I have about half of a new “A Different Way” chapter written… and if all goes according to plan, it should be up within the week. I had to enlist the help of a fanfiction reader for this chapter and she very kindly agreed.

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End Notes:

If you have read my book and have the opportunity to post a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads… it would be very much appreciated. Reviews are what help Indie Authors get seen.

One more thing… feel free to say “Hi” to my mother in the comments on this blog. She claims she doesn’t read this blog.

Uh-huh… I believe that. < — Sarcastic Daughter Comment.

Hi Mom!

One Last thing and I promise I’m done babbling:

It’s been a very sad week with the passing of Robin Williams. Please seek help if you or someone you know is depressed.

Sometimes we need a reminder…

 

Coming Out of the Author Closet

Publishing a book has been an interesting experience for me. It wasn’t something I saw on my radar…it just happened. I kept my secret author life under wraps from people in my “real-life.”
This was something I did for me…something I didn’t have to share, explain or defend.

The first person I “came out” to was my husband. He would watch me furiously typing on my laptop while we were watching TV together. Whenever he’d ask who I was writing to, I’d answer “No one” and continue on. He’d tease me about my secret internet life, occasionally asking me if I had a virtual boyfriend. He was kidding…at least I hope he was kidding.

Finally, after about two months, I came clean and confessed. I think he figured it out at that point. He knew I was reading fanfiction. I’d bitch and moan about all the awful things my beloved characters were doing. He knew when I read a cheating story by the side-eye he’d get from me after I read it. And he certainly knew when I read a lemon…. You can fill in the blank there.

One day I get the bright idea to write a book. This was an interesting change from fanfiction writing. My characters weren’t based on someone else’s ideas. I wasn’t bound by the personalities already written. These were my characters and mine alone. And I grew to really like them… occasionally wishing they were real so I could hang-out with them. That’s the nice thing about writing your own characters; you can make them anyone you want.

In my imagination they felt real…if they did something funny, I laughed with them. If they felt pain, I felt it. If they did something stupid, I wanted to smack them up side the head. But they were locked inside my head…just for me.

It wasn’t that I was afraid that anyone I let in on my secret wouldn’t support me. My family is awesome. My friends are awesome. They may make fun of me for writing a story that had some snark and smut… but they will always have my back.

My fear was “the blur”. I knew if I told anyone who knows me in “real-life” about publishing my book …and they took the time to read it…most would not distinguish between my own reality and my character’s reality. My characters are fictional… relatable, cool and a lot of fun…but still … fictional. (Not gonna lie…I’m relatable, cool and fun too, but still… real. Every time I step on the scale, I’m reminded how very ‘real’ I am).

My husband encouraged me to share my “Big News”… After all, publishing a novel is a big friggin’ deal (there should be a special candy or wine for such occasions). I was proud of my book. Sure, I had my moments of insecurities …okay, many moments… but I believe I accomplished the end result I was hoping for… a story that makes you smile…mostly.

The first people I confessed to were my mother and sisters. And it pretty much went as expected.

Mom: I love it. It’s so funny. The sex is good too. That husband of yours must be a lucky man.
Me: Please don’t say anymore.

My mother now uses the term “hot-sex” when speaking of my book, frequently. It makes me feel so dirty. Don’t get me wrong, my mother is no “little old lady” but still…she’s my mom…and the term “hot-sex” uttered from my virginal mother of seven’s mouth…Umm…no thank you.

~o0o~

Let’s move on to my sister… here’s the email I got from her:

So…… how do I keep you & your husband out of my head while reading?

Yup, that’s about what I was expecting.

~o0o~

Next…some of my friend’s reactions. I love my friends. They can tease you and it’s okay. … because you know karma is a bitch and one day you’ll get them back.

These are my childhood friends. I’ve know these wonderful ladies since I was seven-years-old. They know too much about me… and I know too much about them. It’s nice having enough dirt on each other to secure lifetime friendships. Oh, the stories we could tell. I’ll save that for another book.

Here’s their reaction when I “Came out of the Author Closet”

Friend 1: What an awesome accomplishment!! I always knew you were a writer, way back in high school, you could always dazzle the teachers with your work, even if you didn’t even start the assignment until an hour before it was due! I have started your book and gotten to chapter 6, I am enjoying your smuttiness!!

Friend 2: Wow. Always knew you had it in you. I’m expecting to lol when I read this – I still remember those great stories from Rivlins class

(Rivlin was our 10th grade English teacher… I don’t think he appreciated my smart-aleck mouth, but he begrudgingly liked my writing. My friends in his other classes would beg him to read my work to their class. I liked to write funny then…I remember a character I wrote named Venetian, a blind prophet (we were reading Greek tragedies at the time)… I created him all because I wanted to write the line “Venetian’s blind.” I thought that line was hysterical.

I tended to write all of our assignments in the hallway on the way to class on the day it was due. And still pulled off A’s. Pissed off my friends. What can I say? I worked better under pressure. If I was still in high school, I’d probably do the same.)

Friend 3: started yesterday afternoon and just finished……..loved it!!!! Who knew you were such a dirty girl!!! LOLOLOL when’s the next one coming out???

Okay, that went better than expected. Although I see them in person in a week. After a few glasses of wine…I’m sure the conversations will be much raunchier.

~o0o~

Everyone naturally assumes that the sex I wrote about was my own. I cannot confirm or deny this assumption.

However, my husband has no issue if my readers choose to believe that the Ben character is based on him.

So, it’s been an interesting experience all around. First publishing a book. Waiting for feedback (which thankfully has been very positive). Then unveiling my secret author-life to a few of my nearest and dearest.

All in all, I’m glad I came-out to my selective few. I cringed and blushed while confessing to the smut portion of my writing… but didn’t hurt a bit.

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A bit of business:

Here’s a few links to my book, The Casual Rule. If you haven’t already bought it… what are you waiting for? One-click it! It’s the perfect beach read… and if it’s your winter…it’s the perfect sit by the fireplace read. Covers all the bases.

If you have read it and feel so inclined to leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads, it would be greatly appreciated. (It helps us Indie writers get seen). I’ve taken my magical multicolored gel pens and blank notebooks to the summertime home-office (the beach) and started writing book 2.

Amazon US link: http://tinyurl.com/osl87fb
Amazon UK link: http://tinyurl.com/nx374jq
Amazon AU link: http://tinyurl.com/ntcasyb
Amazon CA link: http://tinyurl.com/nf3yt56
And many other countries…check out your Amazon links.

~o0o~

FSOG Fanfiction:

I updated Fifty Shades- A Different Way last week. Already working on the next chapter. I have to say, I have changed direction on the original intended storyline and I’m enjoying writing this new direction. It’s been a lot of fun (CG’s thought process has made me laugh out loud a few times while writing it) and I know many of you will never look at Jeopardy the same way.

~o0o~

 

How to Find Me:

1- Subscribe to this blog

2- Facebook: I have two accounts:

    A) ‘Friend’ me at AC Netzel (I talk fanfiction snippets among other random thoughts. I’m probably most active here) https://www.facebook.com/netzel.fanfic

    B) ‘Like’ my facebook Author page: Author- AC Netzel
http://tinyurl.com/p5ezdbs

3- Twitter: ACNetzel@ACNetzel

4- ‘Follow’ my stories on the fanfiction site for updates on chapters. ( Netzel- Author) Late Night Thoughts is complete, but Fifty Shades – A Different Way is still updating…and Nighttime Thoughts (the tongue-on-cheek story) will eventually get one more addendum (because I refuse to call it a chapter)

 

 

Snippet # 3

Meet Ben:

“Do you want me Julia?” His voice is low, alluring.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you here?” He lightly presses his fingers on my panties, applying pressure against my throbbing sex.

My muscles clench. “Yes,” I gasp.

“Do you want me inside you?” He brushes his lips down my neck, lightly nibbling by my collarbone.

“Yes,” I whisper. My body is on fire. I need him right now like I need air to breathe.

“Good… After dinner.” He straightens himself out and releases his hold on me.

My mouth falls open. I’m completely confounded. What the fuck just happened? I thought we were about to have sex.

“Something wrong?” he asks with a devilish smirk and raised brow. Holy shit, I know his game. He’s teasing me back. The bastard.

Coming May 15, 2014

Hi Diddle-Dee-Dee…A Farmer’s Life for Me.

I had this idea in my head that I’d be an excellent backyard farmer. Live off the land, so to speak. Provide my family with nutritious, delicious, fresh off the vine vegetables and save a few bucks. Every afternoon, I could go to my garden and pick lettuce, tomatoes, and zucchini. I would spend early mornings, tending to the weeds, keeping a happy environment for my plants to thrive.

So last year, I went for it.

As with any new project… I began enthusiastically, rushing out to our local Home Depot … all the while whistling John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” to myself. Yes, this farmer was starting from scratch…no pre-grown vegetables in peat pots for me. I’m starting early and growing them from seed.

My husband and I purchased wood to make a few raised beds. Then we went to the garden center and picked up our own peat pots. Next we chose seeds. There’s so many. I remember as a kid, there were probably ten kinds of vegetables seeds you could purchase. Things have changed. There were rows of different varieties of carrots, beans, corn, tomatoes. Too much for this farmer. After a very scientific and thoughtful process, (Eeny-meeny-miny-moe) we chose our seeds.

All that was left was the dirt. Yes, I bought dirt. True, I had plenty of free dirt in my yard…if I didn’t mind living with the ants that reside in it. We looked at all the fancy dirt blends. Even something as simple as dirt is complicated… and pretty damn expensive. It’s dirt.

We ended up purchasing the cheapest dirt we could find and a bag of humus (not to be confused with hummus, the chickpea dip) and a bag of manure. That’s right, I paid a couple of hard earned bucks for a bag of shit.

This was exciting. My own garden. I had visions of a cornucopia on the dining room table every night, filled with the day’s harvest. This is good. I realize the up front money was more than I budgeted, but I will make it back tenfold because I can skip the produce aisle for months. Kind of an extreme couponing for farmhands. This is good. This is very good.

First things first. I have to mix my dirt, dip and shit together. I find a container we once used to mix concrete. That’ll have to do; it’s the biggest container I own. I open the bags and pour out the contents. Now I have to mix it. At first, I take a shovel and mix it around, but it’s making a major mess, spilling over. So I get down on my knees, throw on my gardening gloves and mix it the old fashioned way. By hand. So basically I have my hands in a mix of soil and crap. But this is the price you pay to be a hearty farmer….and that’s my new title.

Once the mix is complete, I get my tiny garden shovel and fill the peat pots with the newly enriched concoction I created. I open the seed packets. Hmm… the seeds are pretty small. I can probably fit a few in each pot. That’ll save me even more cashola. I’m quite the brilliant frugal farmer already. After about an hour of filling each tiny peat pot with various seeds, it occurs to me that they need sun. It’s too cold outside…so all around the kitchen and dining room they go. On folded tables, folding chairs. Anything I can find and place in front of a window.

While the seeds are germinating and doing their growing thing…we need to prepare the earth and build the raised beds. And when I say ‘we’… I mean my husband. This project was put off for various reasons. It’s too cold, it’s raining, the ground’s too hard…and the most popular….I’m tired. I’ll do it tomorrow. While I wait for tomorrow to arrive, I take special care of my seedlings. Always making sure they are properly watered and they have plenty of sunshine. I take them out on my deck in early May to acclimate them to wind and fresh air. Yes, acclimate plants. Wiki said so…and they never lie. So every day I’d move my seedlings in and out of the house. Like a nervous mother snooping on their kid’s Pre-K class from an outside window, I’d watch from the sliding glass door and nervously jump every time the wind blew. My plant babies!

It’s two months later and tomorrow is finally here. At this point, my seeds have grown to big proud plants. Too big for the peat pots I purchased (<—say that three time fast) and overcrowded from my frugal planting. I’m in crisis mode to save my plants. After extensive research, I’ve determined that they have no more nutrients to squeeze out of my magical shit and dirt mix. These must get in the ground. Besides, at this point, it’s late June. They should have been planted weeks ago.

After my poor husband worked his ass off, making his farmer wife happy with four new raised beds, and a nifty trellis for string beans… I’m ready to plant. This is when I realize I have more plants than room to plant them. Now what am I supposed to do? I cared for my plant babies; I can’t just throw them in the trash. I plant what I can fit. Zucchini, mixed spring lettuces, cucumber, carrots, tomatoes, potatoes, string beans…and our glamour crop…watermelon.

I find buckets, old pots anything I can to plant the orphan plants. My pretty farm is looking a little hodgepodge at this point, like a thrift store of this and that with a plant stuck in anything. I set the other plants free to fend for themselves, never actually throwing them out.

The potatoes were pretty cool to grow. I saw on you tube, you can grow them in garbage bags. With the chipmunk and mole issues we have, that was the perfect solution. (You tube this…it really is pretty darn neat).

For the first two weeks, I’d go out every morning and tend to the garden. Pulling weeds, water the plants, inspecting each plant for disease. I even read up on hand pollinating if the bees didn’t show up. I was ready.

By the third week, I realized it’s pretty fucking hot in the sun in July. I’ll weed at night. This proved to be a mistake, as the mosquitoes enjoyed devouring me… a lot. A fucking lot. Apparently I’m quite tasty…and they told all their mosquito friends.

So I try early in the morning. It seems that New Jersey has a constant stream of mosquito armies on duty. No matter what time I went out, I was getting eaten alive. Well, fuck that. I’ll let the weeds grow and just water the plants. This also was a colossal fail, as my cucumbers and zucchini plants got some white powdery mildew on them and died on me. All of them. Dead. Muerto. Bereft of Life. Powdery white plant cadavers soaking up the sunshine.

My tomatoes at this point have hardly grown. I have no idea why. I did every thing right. They got sun. Okay they didn’t get weeded, but they got water. That’s something. Tomatoes are spiteful… that’s the only explanation.

Because of my mosquito/weeding protest, I can’t pick any of my lettuce. I can’t tell what’s lettuce leaves and what’s a weed. I have a fear of dying. I’m not about to ingest something that may send me to the Emergency Room. So that’s another crop fail.

I still had my green beans…which are doing surprisingly well. And growing freakishly long. Probably a mutation…but I don’t care, it’s all I have left.

So in the end…I got a handful of tomatoes. I mean exactly a handful…they fit in my hand. There goes my dreams of homemade tomato sauce.

So here’s what we ended up with after all that work and money spent.

My potatoes grown in a large trash bag

 

Mutant Green beans

 

My only carrot

Watermelon…our glamour crop

Glamour Crop- Actual size.

Nice huh? And I’m going to do it all over again this year.
~End business~

The book is done and due to be published soon.

I have an Author Page on facebook. Please ‘LIKE’ it (and tell your friends). I need constant reassurance…and you can keep up with my book there.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/AC-Netzel/643706702344488?ref=hl

Fanfiction stuff:

I have the outline to the next chapter to the Different Way story completed (hint: Wanda).  Working on the chapter now.

And after many requests…and the fact that I love to mess with Mr. Grey…there will be a part 3 to Nighttime Thoughts.

 

That’s all for today. Enjoy!

 

 

Insomnia brings out the crazy

I have a sleep window, the time when I’m so tired I need to either nap in the afternoon… or go to bed for the night. (Depending on what time of the day my sleepiness presents itself).  When the need for sleep hits me, there’s a short period where I either use it or lose it.  If I wait too long I lose my sleep mojo.

This happened to me countless times on weekend afternoons when I pulled a late nighter (that’s a lie…I had one wine too many) and I’d peter out in the early afternoon.  Knowing I have a ton of errands to run, I’ll fight through my exhaustion (wine haze) because I know if I take a nap, I’ll have no desire to go out when I wake up. So, my husband and I  dash around town, doing the Costco, Home Depot, Target, Shoprite runs—or as we affectionately call it- A Hot Date.

Yup, life in the Land of Netzel is nothing but thrilling.

 

Once our errands are completed and we’re home, I groggily traipse upstairs to our bedroom to indulge in my well deserved (and very much needed) nap. Snuggling in my warm and cozy bed, I close my eyes and drift off to a peaceful sleep.  Three minutes later, my eyes are wide open.   I lost my window…my sleep mojo is gone.  Poof! Disappeared.  I’m still tired (exhausted, wine-hazy and now cranky as hell) …but the moment is lost.

This phenomenon does not apply to naps only; it also applies to my nighttime sleep.  You know, the eight hours we’re supposed to get each and every night to start our day bright eyed, bushy tailed and all that jazz.

This brings me to last night.  At around ten o’clock my head was in the throws of some serious bobbing, as I dozed off on the couch.  Several times, Mr. Netzel nudged me, telling me I should go upstairs to bed.  I refused.  It was Sunday and I didn’t want the weekend to end. I forced myself to stay awake, although I was crappy company, constantly yawning and dozing off again.

By 11:30 I finally gave in.

By 11:45 Mr. Netzel was comatose and I was wide awake.  I missed my window.

It’s funny the things that go through your mind when you can’t sleep.  The number one thing that goes through your mind…Why can’t I sleep?

Aggravating as hell.

 

After the initial berating myself for not going to bed an hour and a half earlier, I start to overthink.  Overthinking when you’re frustrated, exhausted, and something I like to refer to as “sleepy-stupid” is a bad combination.  All sorts of random thoughts pop into your head. There’s no rhyme or reason…. over-tired brain babble.

Here’s one of my thoughts…this one went on for a while.

Knowing that filming for the Fifty Shades of Grey movie just wrapped, it was on my mind.  I know why, it’s pretty much every other topic on my facebook newsfeed.

This got me thinking about actors and movie sex.  Now, I realized they simulate sex, but still.  There’s nakedness, lots if they do it right.  Then my brain takes it to the next level.  How would I feel if my husband was an actor and part his work was to get naked and simulate sex with a pretty, young, flexible actress he just met?  Could I be cool about it and convince myself that it’s part of his job? Would I be secure enough in our relationship to allow it? Could I look him in the eye when he came home after a long day at “work”?  Or would I give him the side eye?

It didn’t take long to know my answer… although the paycheck is nice and the possibility that his career could flourish is incentive… I’d be totally selfish and put the kibosh on it. I’m not that cool.  I’m not that secure.

Even if they had him wearing one of those cock socks.  You know, the garment actors wear over their manhood to protect their modesty. Not a freaking chance in hell.  There’s still uglies bumping…and that particular ugly belongs to me.

 

On filming days for sex scenes, my husband’s hands will be cupping the perfect young and perky tits of a woman who is most definitely not his wife. The very girl he just met a few weeks prior. His tongue gliding down her stomach, trailing featherlike kisses back up to her neck.  (Excuse me for a moment…I need to find a photo of my husband and burn it).  Her perfectly manicured nails will be raking down his back, while she lay naked under him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

All the while I’m home, watching reruns of The Nanny, sticking pins in the groin of the Voodoo doll I named affectionately after my husband, while yelling at it “Simulate this- You Bastard!”  (Don’t worry, she gets one too.)

Next, I imagined going to the wrap party with my husband, a festive get together of cast and crew after three months of filming.  Everyone is smiling and laughing.  Drinks are flowing.  The lead actress comes up to me to exchange niceties. She may be the sweetest person in the world, but to me she’s the bitch who got naked with my man. I try to act cool, but inside I want to scratch her eyes out.  I know my husband probably had his mouth wrapped around her nipples three days earlier, while he pounded his sock into her ugly.  I’d wonder if he had a sock slip…or if anything else slipped.  Too much wondering.

Like I said, I’m not cool.

I had to get my mind off of that scenario because it was making me angry at my husband who was doing nothing but peacefully sleep beside me, oblivious to my irrational fury and jealousy over something that never happened.

I start thinking about the book I’m writing.  Sometimes I hear the conversations between the characters in my head.  It’s like I’m eavesdropping on a private discussion.  I hear the words go back and forth …over and over.  This time a phrase was used and I wanted to remember it.  But it’s three am and pitch black in my bedroom.  On my nightstand is a pad and pen I keep for these moments of clarity.  I didn’t want to wake my husband, but I knew I’d lose the words if I didn’t write it down.  So in the darkness, I scribble something.

Two words scribbled in handwriting I don’t recognize.   Fortunately for me, I remembered what I was referring to and added it in the chapter (I’m guessing it’ll be in chapter 16 when all is said and done).

By now it’s close to four a.m.  I’m still awake  and the hubs is snoring.

In a desperate attempt to bore myself to sleep, I grab my cell phone and connect to the internet.  After about an hour.  I’m bored enough to call it a night. I close my eyes and finally drift off.

 Buzz, Buzz, Buzz…. Stupid alarm clock. Six a.m came around fast. Time to get up and start the day.

So here’s my lesson learned.  Don’t ignore the sleep window. It messes with your head.

~o0o~

Some quick notes: I’ve received a few questions regarding my Different Way story.   I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to read it and inquire about it. I have not abandoned the story and will continue it.  I’m back in my writing groove, so hopefully soon.  Thank you again for your patience.

I’ve been thinking about moving my fanfics over to this blog.  I haven’t decided yet.  This way, everything is in one place…and it’ll give me the opportunity to rewrite some of the chapters I’ve always wanted to retackle.   I’ll get back to you on that.

About my book.    I’m very close to the end of it before it goes into the first round of real editing.  Please let me know if you’d like to see some snippets here and I’ll see what I can do.

And lastly, I’d like to thank all of you who take some time out of your day to read this blog.  It’s been fun to write.  Please be sure to subscribe to it and follow me if you like what you see.

That’s all for today.  Make it a good one.

You’ve got to be kidding me… It’s going to snow again?

I’m managing my facebook exile pretty well. I’ve written four additional chapters for my original story in that time, the first draft anyway. I usually take a few days after to think about what I wrote (and go through some inner conflict tug of war over whether I like it or hate it.  At some point during my turmoil, the answer is both.  I’ll fix what didn’t work and move on.)

 As you have probably worked out, my process is not that complicated.  The truth is- I’m not that deep.  And I like it that way.

While I work out the kinks in the original, I figure it’s time to get working on a much delayed update or two in FSOG fanfiction world.  That’s what’s on today’s menu anyway. 

 My Social Media Dom has allowed me a few minutes here and there to peek into facebook.  I hope he doesn’t get too used to his Dom status because those days are numbered. Soon I’ll be back to my well-deserved Queen of the Castle status.

 

While perusing my newsfeed, I’ve come to the conclusion that I haven’t missed much. In the few times I’ve peeked in, I’ve found that most  status’ are my fellow facebook friends bitching and moaning about snow. Granted, this part of the world has been dealing with a shitload of snow.  I’m not a fan of snow. Truthfully, I hate snow (yet, I enjoy shoveling snow… it burns away all the wine calories… and there’s a lot to burn).

Correction, I like pretty snow. The kind that sticks onto the trees and grassy surfaces, leaving the streets and sidewalks clear.  That has not occurred this winter.  We are getting pounded.  Three storms just this week.  It’s crazy. Mother Nature is really getting around…Snow Slut that she is.

When my daughter was in middle school, the eighth grade sponsored a day trip to the Pocono Mountains for some winter sports… skiing, snowboarding, tubing, all the outdoorsy cold winter fun activities I’d rather avoid.  Parents were encouraged to come along and participate.  Like many of us, I was an overprotective parent with visions of my daughter breaking her leg from a freak tubing accident, so I was on board.  Mind you, we were not chaperones; we were there to enjoy the joys of winter along with everyone else.

The kids were having a blast, decked out in eighty layers of coats, hats and scarves.  My daughter and her friend begged me to join them on the mountain. 

Hello darling daughter….  Have you met me?

Fortunately, they were still young enough to believe that anything I told them was gospel.  Like a few other snow-hating mothers, I explained to them that I was staying behind at the ski lodge in case someone was injured and needed help.  I’m so selfless, such a giver.  Satisfied with that excuse, the girls scampered back to the frigid mountain, while I and all the other selfless parents waited patiently in the ski lodge.

Here’s what our kids thought we were doing:

 

 Here’s the reality:

 

 Needless to say, we made the best of the day (and slept it off on the bus ride home… Good Times).

~o0o~

A few years ago, we were hammered with a bitch of a blizzard. This is a worst case scenario for a snow hater like me.  It’s not pretty snow.  It’s snow that keeps you locked up in your house for days with nothing else to do but eat and deal with bored kids.

I was miserable at the prospect of this snow event.  Mother Nature was setting herself up to be particularity slutty…porn star slutty. I needed a diversion, something to keep my mind off of the storm as it was happening, and lighten my misery.  That’s when I had my moment of clarity.

I read somewhere that it’s practically impossible to look at a penguin and feel angry.  You can’t argue with that logic.  Think of a penguin right now…you’re happy right?   You can’t help yourself, can you?

Meet Paulie the Penguin.  He belongs to our neighbors. We steal it off their porch every Christmas and return it in July. Paulie was about to make this blizzard tolerable.

We placed him on a table outside and let Paulie and Mother Nature entertain us. 

Paulie at 11:00 am: Ready for the fun to begin:

Paulie at 3:00 pm.   He’s still holding his own:

5:00 pm…Things are starting to suck for Paulie:

 7:00 pm.  Paulie is experiencing numbness on his face.  Meanwhile, I’m warm and toasty with a  glass of chilled Pinot Grigio:

 9:00.  Lucky for Paulie, penguin balls are internal.  Now that it’s dark outside, he’s lit up for our viewing pleasure:

 11:00 pm.  I think it’s pretty safe to say, Paulie is not a happy Penguin. However I’m on my third glass of wine, it’s all good for me:

11:00 BONUS PIC. For shits and giggles.  Yes, he’s still in there. Watch him glow.  Isn’t he glorious?  

 8 am.  My ruler said a gazzilion inches of snow fell that day.  Not a good day to be a plastic penguin. Paulie entombed:

 

 9 am.  Paulie carved out of his snowy tomb:

 

Later that day…. No Penguins were hurt in this experiment:

~o0o~

 So, there ya go. My solution to beating the “You’ve got to be kidding me…It’s going to snow again?” blues.

I hope you enjoyed Paulie as much as we do. It’s the only FU I can give to Mother Nature… make the misery she sprinkles upon us… entertaining.

It’s time for me to get writing, so adios until next time.

Stay safe out there.

Time Waster …aka Managing the Easily Distracted Mind

I hadn’t realized until recently that I have the attention span of a flea. Why didn’t I notice it?  I was distracted.

 As I sit at my desktop, pounding away on the keyboard what I hope will entertain anyone who reads it, I find myself drifting …a quick glance out the window to spy on the neighbors or I look to my other side where I have a hutch full of crystal wineglasses.   I should keep on writing while the mojo is going…but in an insincere moment of imaginary-housewifedom, I decide the better choice is to get off my ass and take out all the crystal and hand wash them.  They’re dusty and don’t have the sparkle they deserve.  Mind you, they haven’t sparkled for months. I don’t use any of these glasses.  I insisted I needed them as an engagement gift, you know, so I could set the table for all the fancy dinners I was planning to have. 

 (To those who aren’t married yet, I’m going to give you a free life lesson: You will never have those parties.  I can count on both hands how many times I’ve used the crystal wine, water and champagne glasses, along with the ‘good china’ I had to have.  You want the cheap stuff, the stuff you don’t care about when your husband’s idiot of a best friend drops it on the floor. Trust me on this one…and you’re welcome.)

 Lately my distraction has been all about facebook.  It took me forever to kick my Farmville addiction (honestly I did have one hell of a fancy farm).  I’d plan my day around what time I had to pick my corn and plant roses. I made sure each farm animal wasn’t crushed in their pens…you know, like they were real breathing farm animals. I owned reindeer…how cool is that? Much unlike my real life, my farm was neat and orderly.   I crossed the sanity line.  I’d have long conversations with my mother (another proud farmer) over our vast farmlands and how beautifully they were decorated.  It was sad, just sad.

Like I said, I finally realized that I had to stop cold turkey.  And it was painful.  I knew my flowers were wilting and my corn was turning brown. I wanted to look.  I wanted to feed my poor hungry chickens. But I stayed strong. I stopped over a year ago and to this day, I can’t visit the ol’ farm…it’s much too painful.

When I decided to go for it and write a book, I was on a roll.  I was a writing machine.  Words were coming so easily… Clever, clever words.  Oh, I was quite the wordsmith.  That didn’t last too long.  Once again, my attention span got in the way of creativity.  Damn facebook again.  I’d get through a paragraph then reward myself with a quick peek on my newsfeed.  Little by little, the rewards were given for lesser achievements.  A sentence.  A word.  A space.

Facebook, Twitter and various gossip websites were ruling my life and sucking out my inspiration… A complete time waster.

Hello, My name is Annette.

I’m a  procrastinator and Social Mediaholic.

 I thought long and hard (<—another one of my issues, immature dirty mind) about how I was going to escape my obsession and actually do what I set out to do when I powered up my desktop… Write.

I’ve deactivated my facebook page temporarily before.  The trouble is, you can easily reactivate it by simply typing in your email and password.  I’d accidentally (I swear that’s the truth) log back in all the time and have to deactivate it again (of course after I perused my newsfeed first)

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I called in for reinforcements.  My husband. I couldn’t believe what I was about to request, but it had to be done. Here’s how it went down.

 “Change my password and don’t tell me what it is.” I signed into my facebook account and handed the tablet to him.

 “Seriously?” He frowns.

 “Yes, I’m weak.”

 “You’re not going to text me all day while I’m at work asking for it, are you?”

 “No. And if I do ask for it, you can’t give it to me.”

 “How will I know when you really need it back?”

 “Oh, I didn’t think of that. I don’t know.  You’ll have to figure it out.”

 “I’m in a no win situation here, you know that.”

 “Yes, now change it.”

 

I turned my head and poof!  New password.  I can no longer access facebook at will. My husband holds the key.  I gave him all the power. He decides when I can go on facebook and I obey. I just made him my social media Dom. Holy crap, I’ve unintentionally entered into a D/s social media relationship. All this Fifty Shades of Grey fanfiction writing has infiltrated my real life.

I’m going to have to ponder this for a while; I think I just blew my mind.

 

You’d think having no facebook access would give me some relief, but what I wasn’t expecting was my paranoia to sink in.  What am I missing?  What if they’re talking about me?  They probably are.  They definitely are.  What are they saying?  Is it mean?  Why are they saying mean things about me?  You get the picture.

Come to think of it, if anyone reads this blog entry,  they’ll know I can’t see my facebook page. They’re probably going to litter my facebook page with taunts, knowing I won’t have the ability to respond. There’s no way I can win this.

 But I am keeping to my word, until I get a respectable amount of writing accomplished.  Today, I was allowed a little facebook time.  I had to look the other way when he entered the password. It was wonderful. Wonderful!

So, now I’m spoon-fed small morsels of facebook.  I’m still working on my gossip site addiction (Cut me some slack, Rome wasn’t build in a day). But I’m heading in the right direction. I’ll pour myself a glass of wine (or two) and wait for the brilliance to pour out into my keyboard.