How to Write a Book While Remaining Smoke-free

Today is Day Four of my smoke-free life. I kicked the smoking habit last Sunday afternoon after a weekend of puffing away. Cold turkey is the only way to go for me. I've done it cold turkey before and I lasted eight years. I blame my ex-husband for my smoking relapse. Yes, I do. But of course, had we remained together...you fill in the blanks here :)

So, Day Four. My pets are alive and the police haven't been called to my house for any disturbances caused by me, anyway. The police were called to my street which was a great distraction for an hour. I live on a "colorful" street in the historic district of my town. It's not as colorful as other streets, but with school out, it's "lively" around here in the summer months.

They (I don't know who they is) say that after day three, anything becomes a habit and that just may be true about my quitting or maybe I was focused on day three and it distracted me from smoking! I'm not sure, but I feel fine and dandy. Actually, I feel great. I thought I'd have a rough time giving up coffee and tea and was dreading the withdrawals from caffeine, but I didn't get the headache people talk about (again, those people). I'm not sure if my mild withdrawals are because I've been drinking Dr. Oz's green juice, detox concoction, and taking my vitamin D religiously but I feel pretty damn good. Giving up red wine for the time being isn't a big deal, either. I'm not a person who enjoys drinking alone and I live alone, so meh. Be gone, triggers!

There are, however, specific times where I've notice a stronger pull to run to my neighbor's house for a cigarette or ten:

After a meal;
after writing, when it's time to proofread and edit;
and, after great sex.

Not really. I just threw number three in there to make sure you were paying attention. However, my neighbor tells me that sex is THE KEY to success for battling just about any addiction. Unless your addiction is actually sex, of course. Then, I suppose you'd take a cold shower, scarf down a Klondike bar or you'd substitute sex for another addiction like bungee jumping from the nearest bridge, for example.

Anyhoo, yesterday I noticed a stronger urge to smoke after a meal and after I wrote my blog post. The urge happened again as I wrapped up a newly written page of my second novel, Finding Gracia. I  literally had to get up, go outside and weed the garden. As I was weeding, I thought, "Wait a cotton pickin' minute!" (my mother's favorite American phrase when she arrived in the US from Puerto Rico), 'I could play games with my head! I can trick myself into believing that writing is the activity and the "reward, prize" is the editing!' An aha moment.

Well, it could work. If you think about it, we are quite able to psyche ourselves into believing any number of things, and not all are smart things, either. If I'm on a balcony, I have to talk myself into believing that I'm not afraid of heights (which I am) and I've talked myself into believing that I could kayak when I had a fear of capsizing and not being able to right myself. I had nightmares of drowning under a canoe, not fun. 

I remember the day when I decided to call myself an artist when I began painting for exhibits. I had to call myself a writer when I began to write my first novel, A Decent Woman. Fake it until you make it. I don't just write, I'm a writer. I'm going to do whatever I need to do to not smoke. I'm a retired smoker, an ex-smoker, a recovering nicotine addict, yuck. It even sounds nasty!

I'm nearly finished writing this blog post and I've caught myself looking to my right where my cigarettes, lighter and ashtray used to be. There was nothing better than dragging on a cigarette at a job well done aka my blog and/or novels.

Must trick myself into believing that editing is the same as smoking...or I just might just buy the Blu electronic cigarette for editing. Nah, that would be a crutch. Off I go to think about all that...

Peace and love to you!
Ellie

The New Year's Eve Conga Line

Happy New Year to you!

I rang in the New Year with my friends and neighbors, Miss Ellie and her husband, at the local VFW which is a club for US veterans of foreign wars.  I had every intention of watching the ball drop at home at home in my jammies with Ozzy and Pierre, my Pug and Maine Coon, and ended up doing the conga line in a LONG line of New Year's Eve conga dancers!  Don't you just love when stuff like that happens?!

Around 3 that afternoon, I remembered that Miss Ellie (I'm known as the Other Ellie on the street since I moved in) had told me about this event a few weeks back.  Why not?  They'd kindly invited me and I'd forgotten!  My father was a vet and so was my ex-husband of 25 years, his father and brother, as well.  I had connections!  Not to mention, plenty of potential conversation starters with vets and their wives as a former Army brat and an ex Army wife.  This could be a fun night and Miss Ellie and her husband are a fun couple!  He's a former Marine and one of the youngest Vietnam vets at the VFW.  A quiet, unassuming guy whose body tells his Vietnam experience with dozens of amazingly amazing tattoos. Why sit alone on New Year's Eve when I could dance the night away with friends, right?

Around 4 pm, I texted Miss Ellie who immediately texted back, "Don't eat dinner and get your butt down here!  LOL!!"  Done!  I jumped in the shower and pondered about what to wear.  What do you wear to a VFW shindig in West Virginia, I wondered.  Sequins, a cocktail dress or jeans?  Since I don't own a single sequin anything, I decided on a shiny black top, my tailored black blazer, black heels and jeans.  Kinda festive, but not New Year's Eve attire to me, so I added great pair of faux diamond hoop earrings.  Done!

The VFW is literally behind my house, so I walked over in my heels, wishing I'd worn flat boots as I gingerly sidestepped the icy patches on the sidewalk. At least I knew I'd be walked home and no one would have to drive!

I pressed the buzzer at the imposing front door and was buzzed in. A private club?  Exclusive to be sure!  The huge bar was decorated with streamers and Christmas lights and several men and a few couples sat on bar stools, nursing drinks.  Mostly men over 60 who smiled when I walked up to the bar, asking for Miss Ellie.  Potential dance partners?!  The friendly bartender (turns out she was a Navy brat) informed me that Miss Ellie was in the kitchen, helping out and that if I decided to stay on to dance, there would be a five dollar cover charge.  Done!  

I wasn't surprised to see Miss Ellie behind the grill as she is a superb chef. As our steaks sizzled on the grill, her husband joined us.  Our evening began with a fantastic New York strip steak, a baked potato with everything on it and a salad in the VFW "diner".  Super dinner!  I'm a red wine devotee and when I was informed that they didn't carry red wine, I opted for scotch and water.  Hadn't had one in over 20 years and the good scotch went down easy :)  With the huge dinner, I knew I wasn't in danger of getting overly tipsy that evening, but I did need to dance off those calories!

And, dance we did!  The DJ was awesome and my hips can you the story of how I danced for about...five hours!  In heels!  I danced with Miss E and her hubby, with two vets and Miss E's hubby, with other women in circles and lines, and in a conga line that went through the VFW, out the door, spilled onto the sidewalk and back into the VFW!  I conga'd with new neighbors in my new town and made new friends.  

It was after the conga line that I remembered my traditional Puerto Rican custom - the glass of water!  I got a glass of water from the bartender and sat it at my table.  At 11:30, we donned shiny cardboard hats and tiaras, got lei'd, and were each given a cardboard horn to blow.  We danced to a couple more songs and at midnight, I ran to throw out my water.  All the negative of 2012 was thrown out the door of my local VFW onto the sidewalk!  Gone!

When I got back to my table, my daughter was calling :)  I could barely hear her over the music, horns and laughter, but we managed by yelling!  I was really glad to hear her voice and she, of course, had thrown out her water!  Good girl!  I texted my son, my sister and friends who began to text back.  It was so much fun!

We left the VFW at 12:20 and I was home in my jammies at 12:30!  The following morning, the first of 2013, I got a call to come over in my jammies and share a huge country breakfast at Miss Ellie's :)  I ran over with an empty coffee cup as I'd forgotten to buy half and half!  

I rested all day yesterday and wondered how many calories I'd burned only to consume much more at breakfast!  Who cares?!  I had a great NYE and a wonderful New Year's Day.  I hope you did, too :)

Oh, and my January 2013 horoscope by Susan Miller predicts that I'll be busy this month with a new creative project that will keep me busy all year!  Yay!  My novel!  And, that I'll find love.  Who knows, right?  Apparently, my stars and planets have been in retrograde for years in the love department and this January, I have five important planets around my sun sign.  Girl, I could have told Susan that!

Peace and love to you,

Ellie

The Pumpkin Pie Debacle

Hi all,

I hope you had a super Thanksgiving with your loved ones.  I had a wonderful weekend with my family.  A busy, fun, and wonderful weekend full of laughter, joking around, hanging around, and eating way too much.

Okay, I'm not going to lie...since Friday, I've enjoyed four smallish plates of Thanksgiving leftovers and one delicious sandwich of turkey, dressing and gravy. I haven't, however, had enough slices of pumpkin pie with Redi Whip.

I could have baked a pumpkin pie, but I was traveling to my kids by train and my kids ran out time.  My sister swore she would have pumpkin pie for our dinner and I believed her, but I wanted just one more pie.  Just one more.  I love pumpkin pie.

As soon as I arrived in Northern Virginia, my daughter, son and I drove to Safeway to buy an extra pumpkin pie.  No big deal, right?  Well, normally not a big deal, but it was Thanksgiving Day.  I grabbed the pies, super excited and loving Safeway for the extra pies.  I paid for the pies, got into my daughter's car with a huge smile.  "A real coup!  I found two pumpkin pies!"

To which my son jokes (and probably jinxes), "Watch her have bought sweet potato pies!"  We all laughed and then, I checked the bags.  My heart sank.  Are you kidding me?  Two sweet potato pies and no pumpkin.  I had picked up two sweet potato pies at the supermarket by mistake.  Damn, was I mad.  The sign behind the stack of pies was clearly marked and clearly read, "pumpkin pies" but, I failed to read the labels slapped on the boxes which held the 'wrong' pies.  These were clearly sweet potato pies.

I immediately opened the car door, yelling, "I'll be right back!  I'll just exchange them, there was a huge stack of pumpkin pies!"  My daughter grabbed the belt loops of my jeans, holding me in.  "You're not going back inside, we're late, Mom!"

"You don't understand, Sweetie." I said, laughing as I unhooked her fingers from my jeans, "I MUST have pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving!  I don't eat pumpkin pie but twice a year and sweet potato pie will not do!"

On and on my kids kept telling me things like, "Mom, pumpkin is exactly like sweet potato pie", "Let it go!" and, "Let's go!" When my kids realized that I wasn't leaving the Safeway supermarket, they gave in.  Exasperated, my son got out of the car, vowing to come back with a pumpkin pie.  My hero!

Ten minutes later, he came to the car carrying a Safeway bag.  "Well?  Do we have lift off?  Did you find a pumpkin pie?"

"Um.  Safeway is out of pumpkin pies.  All they have left are sugar-free pumpkin pies."  

"What?  No!  It won't be Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie."  I'm told I actually pouted like a four year old.

"Mom, it's okay!  Let's just go, we're late."

I moaned and groaned, "Should have made a pie."  After a while, it changed to,"You're right, we are late."  After all, I am an adult :)

Thank goodness, my sister had a pumpkin pie for us.  Yay!  I had my slice and everyone wanted slices of sweet potato pie (which surprised me) and I got to take the remaining pie to my daughter's house (where I was staying).  I snuck a midnight slice of pumpkin pie with Redi Whip, happy as a kid.

My family and I had a great Holiday dinner. I was blessed to enjoy two wonderful days with my children.  I loved our time together and I went home with no leftovers and no more pie.  Good.  I was beginning to forget about leftovers and pumpkin pie when my girlfriend invited me to share her Holiday leftovers tonight!  I'm SO there, I told her!  I have no will power, damn!  She made a homemade pumpkin pie to die for :)

I swear, no more Holiday food.  Enough is enough.  Zumba is calling me. Vamos a bailar! Vamos a rebajar de peso!  Si!

Peace and love,
Ellie

Am I Finished Yet?

Hi all,

Well, it's official.  I can't eat cheese, bread or rice.  Milk, either.  Actually, I can eat those things, but I suffer the consequences!  I've taken a one week, self-imposed food test this week, eating suspicious food items only to have an upset stomach, cramping and then, some in the evenings and early morning.  I had a bad night last night and am still harboring an upset stomach and a headache this morning.

This week, I tried three small slices of cheese pizza and gave the rest to my neighbor; garlic shrimp with white rice and wonton soup and trotted myself (no pun intended!) to my neighbor's house with the left-overs; and had a bowl of cereal with skim milk last night.  I was uncomfortable hours later.  My neighbor ate well this week!  Half and half with my coffee doesn't seem to bother me as much and I'm NOT giving up my cafe au lait or cream in my tea.  No way.

So.  Today, I go on a liquid fast to detox my body from all that nasty stuff that's making me feel ill and queasy.  I hope it works and maybe I'll lose a few pounds in the process.  That would be nice, too.  My life's run with cheese pizza, white rice and the occasional white bread is over.  I've tried and my body just can't deal with it anymore.

This morning, I've already tackled three more chapters of my manuscript and I'm satisfied with them.  It's amazing how many times I can read a chapter and STILL find things to change and improve upon.  When does it end?  When is a ms truly finished and ready?  Will I know when that times comes?  Or does someone else have to tell me?!

Much like painting, it's tough to know when you're finished.  In painting, there comes a time when I have to give it up and just say, "This is the best I can do" while knowing deep inside that there's always something I can tweak and improve. Drives me nuts.  Maybe it's helpful to have a friend who is brutally honest who can drag us away, saying, "Back away!  It's finished!  Leave it alone!"  Do we trust ourselves or someone else to make that decision for us?

Writing this novel has felt like a pregnancy and I'm in the 8th month now.  I can feel it.  I love this baby, love working with it, enjoy thinking and dreaming about holding that book in my hand...and yet, I'm getting tired of being pregnant :)  My internal feet are swelling, I'm gaining weight (true), I'm bloated, and I have gas!  Ha ha!

I enjoy the winter months for producing work.  It's a nice, quiet, cozy time of year and I predict...that this book will be finished by January 1st.  Yes, I do.  That is my self-imposed deadline and procrastinators like me need deadlines.

And like I experienced after childbirth, I'm sure I'll say, "That wasn't so bad, was it?  I think it's time to start thinking about another baby."  Smile.

So, on we go.

Happy Friday to you!
Peace and love,

Ellie