Okay, now I'm pissed!!!

I really didn't think that when I opened the book, that I would enjoy it nearly as much as I did. Now, I haven't officially finished it at the time of this entry, but I'm close enough to the end to say that I really liked Twilight - unless of course the author has gone and screwed with my head, and in fact takes this story in a completely different direction than I think she is. Then I will happily correct myself. But as of now, I *gag* like it. Now, I'm not saying that it's bad to like this particular book, or that I'm above it (I really am, though) in any way. I'm simply stating that I have truly surprised myself by enjoying it. My sister (a self-described book whore) had informed me already that it leaned toward entertaining, so I was fully prepared to sort of like it, but to find myself caught up in the death race of a fictional teenager and her dead boyfriend, well that kind of put me over the edge. I mean, I only started the thing yesterday, and I guarantee that I'll be done by this evening. Easily the quickest 500+ book I've ever read, but nonetheless, enjoyable. So I repeat, for those not listening - I'm really pissed about this! Not only am I completely jealous that this woman chose such an easy topic that has already been sold to the masses before, but that I DIDN'T THINK OF IT FIRST!! AARRGGHHHHH! Okay, I think I'm done now.

So, if you haven't read this book, (I say book - singular - because I haven't read the others yet) I suggest you pick it up, and ready yourself for an evening of teen angst gone vampire. I did, and I'm sure I'll get over it...eventually.

Prompt: Comfort

Okay, so 2 entries in one day - what else should I be doing? Anyway, one of the writing groups I belong to has this thing, where each week the group owner adds a prompt, and everyone else writes about it. I thought this one was particularly interesting, so I did the complete opposite of my first natural instinct of fleeing: I wrote. Here it is, in all of it's short, stout glory.

P.S. - This is a write-what-you-want-as-long-as-it-has-the-word-comfort-in-it type of thing. No minimum number of words or central setting.


Henry's eyes locked stead-fast onto Sophie's, sending invisible beams of courage in her direction. "Look at me Soph," he said calmly, gently brushing a hair from her cheek. "Just keep your eyes on me."
Sophie felt the brush of his hand against her skin once more, and turned her dampened face into his palm, pressing her lips into the soft pocket he had created. "I love you," she whispered, half-hoping he didn't hear her. His rule had been no good-byes, and she had just broken it.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, tugging the blanket up and over her bare shoulders. She nodded slowly, a weak smile appearing at just the corners of her mouth for a moment, before fading away again. The pain in her eyes shot through Henry's chest, as his stomach tightened and his worst fear began to play out in front of him. "Sophie, please..." he stammered. "Please not yet." He bent down to her, pressing his forehead against hers in a last ditch effort to make her stay. "I'm not ready," he sobbed, burying his face into her neck.
With all the strength she could summon, Sophie caressed the back of Henry's head, digging her fingers into his thick locks of chocolate hued hair. The sound of his sobs wrapped around her, accompanied only by the sounds of the medical equipment beeping and dripping beside her. "I am ready," she breathed, pressing him close to her. As his eyes rose up to meet her, she heard him whisper the same good-bye that she had already spoken, and laid a finger to his lips. "No good-byes, remember?" she said smiling, before closing her eyes for the last time.

Sick Kid...

There's really nothing worse on a cold autumn (feels like winter, though) morning, than when one of your kids wakes up sick. I say morning, but it was more like 10:00 last night. Hubby and I were just settling in to enjoy a quiet evening of Fringe on television, when what to our surprise, the sound of hacking coming from our five year old daughters bedroom. He looked at me , and I at him, waiting to see which one was going to have to leave our cocoon of comfort (blankets) and console the baby of the family. I lost the battle of the eyes -his are apparently less shifty than mine. Anyhoo, I ran in her room while putting on my best "Are you okay!?" expression, expecting the usual drama-filled show that had become normal for her, and stopped in my tracks. The look on her little face told me everything; she was definitely not faking.
I was then up with her approximately six other times throughout the night - and morning - holding her blond hair up and reassuring her that she wasn't going to have to go to school.



So, needless to say, she is home sick today. We now have an entire day of cartoon watching and soup eating to do, so when you ask yourself "How does she do it?", just remember that it's all in a days work!

Welcome!

Welcome friends, to my site! I hope that this blog gives me the chance to pass along all of the wonderful attributes that make me, well...me! Enjoy!