Until Monday. Have a great weekend!

The past two weeks, I stepped up my marketing efforts letting people know I’m back in action. Marketing collaterial I wrote includes articles, press releases, and web copy.

I also spent my time contacting reporters and editors.

So I’m busy. Working. And all I think about is picking up my paint brush.

He worked his way to the top. Grew up on welfare and hasn’t looked back since. He’s a millionaire. And not a “fake” one where he only has one or two million in liquid assets ((smile)). He’s worth lots.

At the time, during the conversation I’m about to discuss today, I was young. Starting out in life and in business. I asked him how it felt to be a millionaire. He said, “Great.”

For some reason, I expected a longer answer. But as most millionaire’s that I know, he didn’t speak much.

He is mostly an observer. Many times I watch him watch other people and I try to read his mind. He’s caught me looking at him a few times and I’m sure he believes I have a crush on him. I do not. Never have.

Fast forward to another time. Another conversation. I asked him what’s the best advice he could offer me. This is what he said paraphrased: “Never worry about what the other guy is getting. Just take a look at your piece of pie. If it’s enough, enjoy it. If it’s not, negotiate.

That’s the best advice I ever received. It’s one that changed my outlook on how I view success. It has also limited the amount of jealousy I feel towards others. In fact, jealousy in my life is virtually nonexistant. The last time I remember feeling jealous was when Patricia Cornwell wrote the book about Jack the Ripper.

I felt I should have been the one who wrote that book. After a few days of Cornwell hating, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. The sense of entitlement I felt for a story that didn’t belong to me. To a story that I researched a bit and knew enough to perhaps write a short story, but not a whole book.

For whatever reason, I focused on her piece of the pie, shoving my plate to the middle of the table.

It’s a pathetic state to be in. Really it is. Fussing over the success of someone else who clearly worked hard for recognition.

So what was my problem?

In short, me. I was the problem. As the millionaire said, if I don’t like my piece of the pie I should negotiate. So I did. I negotiated with myself. In return for loving myself more than I did when I thought of Cornwell, I would write.

And so I did.

Appetizer
When someone smiles at you, do you smile back?
Yes. I usually am smiling anyway because I don’t have a pleasant resting face.

Soup
Describe the flooring in your home.  Do you have carpet, hardwood, vinyl, a mix?
Wood and I love it.

Salad
Write a sentence with only 5 words, but all of the words have to start with the first letter of your first name.
Again and again Amber abides.

Main Course
Do you know anyone whose life has been touched by adoption?
In HS I was friends with a Vietnamese girl in HS. A white family adopted her when she was four. Once we were in a group talking and an overweight girl asked us how we kept in shape. I mentioned running track and the Vietnamese girl (sorry, can’t remember her name) said that everyone in her family is naturally thin so it’s in her genes. She turned to me for corroboration because I met her family. I did back up her but couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she forgot she was adopted. She didn’t have the same genes as her mother, father, or brother. She must have felt some special kind of love all her life.

Dessert
Name 2 blue things.
Ocean and sky. Bet lots of people will write the same thing.

After I finished Mija, I went back to writing nonfiction. I completed the nonfiction proposals I worked on. Since I’m not ready to edit Mija, I’m considering working on a movie script. This way I learn a new skill and I’m still writing.

In honor of my new endevour, below is a partial list of AFI 100 Movie Quotes

• We rob banks - Bonnie and Clyde
• Oh, Jerry, don’t let’s ask for the moon. We have the stars - Now, Voyager
• You’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk? - Dirty Harry
• Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into! - Sons of the Desert
• Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here! This is the War Room! - Dr. Strangelove
• Get your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape! - Planet of the Apes
• I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. - A Streetcar Named Desire
• Striker: Surely you can’t be serious! Rumack: I am serious… and don’t call me Shirley. - Airplane!
• Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make. - Dracula
• Sawyer, you’re going out a youngster, but you’ve got to come back a star! - 42nd Street
• Cinderella story. Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac…It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!!” - Caddyshack
• Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death! - Auntie Mame
• Hello, gorgeous - Funny Girl

Source

The following post is part of May’s blog chain.

So I know someone who is lying about a situation. It’s a small lie. To him it’s probably an insignificant lie. I understand his initial reason to lie - he wanted to wiggle out of an uncomfortable situation. But when the lie didn’t change the negative outcome, he decided to tell his side of the story, with the lie in place, in mixed company.

In this case, mixed company refers to a group where some people know the truth and others know the version he’s sharing. And that’s what astounds me.

It’s one thing to lie when those around you don’t know or will never find out the correct version, but to lie in front of people who are privy to the truth…well…that takes guts. And to top it all off, he’s lying about a subject that no one else could give a fuck about. Although I understand why he orginally lied, I’m at a loss as to why he has chosen to go to the “streets.”

I’m not planning on an intervetion, however, because the last time I gave advice to a nontruth teller it didn’t turn out so well. Here’s what happened: My friend lied so much that I gave her my therapist’s number and instructed her to say on the first day, “I want you to know that I’m a liar. I lie about eveything. Please don’t take anything I have to say at face value. Question me at every turn. Except don’t question what I just said because I’m telling you the truth. But don’t believe what I say after this.”

And she did just that.

Through therapy, she overcome her impulse to lie, fudge, or tell half-truths.

Good news for her. Bad news for our relationship.

After her newfound conscious, I found her boring. She lost her charm. Even her written short stories turned stale. 

This time I’m butting out and will allow liars to do what they do best…lie.

Next up on the chain is Life in Scribbletown.

Auria Cortes

Life in Scribbletown

Polyamory From the Inside Out

For the First Time

Family On Bikes

Writes in the City

Elf Killing and Other Hobbies

Rotating Bear

Fantastical Imagination

Asian Business

Spittin’ (Out Words) Like a Llama

As Yet Untitled

Mad Scientist Matt’s Lair

Peregrinas

Delirious