Wednesday, December 31, 2008

January 2009 Coming Attractions

    HAPPY NEW YEAR 2009!

    We have an exciting list of guests and special blog topics from our Banditas for this month. Let’s start the year off with a bang!

    Tomorrow, January 2, Bandita Suzanne guests Harlequin Intrigue writer Kay Thomas whose debut book BETTER THAN BULLETPROOF got a 4 ½ star rating from Romantic Times.

    Join us on January 6 for Bandita Kate’s guest Maureen Child to celebrate her release of BEDEVILED. (Check out that HOT cover!) We'll party hearty and discuss her ultra HOT Fae Warriors and the women who love them!



    RITA-nominated author Pamela Clare, Joan’s guest on January 13, will talk about her new historical release UNTAMED. Join us to hear about this historical set in a different time period.



    On January 19, we welcome my guest Misa Ramirez, to celebrate the release of her debut book LIVING THE VIDA LOCA. Misa also hosts "Chasing Heroes," which you can check out at http://www.chasingheroes.com/.




    Aunty Cindy welcomes guest writer Tina Ferraro on January 21 to discuss her new YA release, THE ABC'S OF KISSING BOYS.


    January 27 brings to the Lair another of Trish’s guests, Helen Scott Taylor. Helen celebrates the release of her American Title Contest-winning paranormal romance THE MAGIC KNOT.



    On January 29 Jeanne hosts guest Heidi Betts whose contemporary debut TANGLED IN LOVE, a "funny, sexy yarn," releases this month.

    And on the last day of the month, January 31, Kirsten's guest, New York Times best-selling author Angela Fox, joins us to discuss her Accidental Demon Slayer series.


    In addition, the Banditas will visit RNTV the week of January 26-30. Join us and our hosts Romance Novel Television for a great week of Bandita Banter. Last time we invaded, the party was so loud, they had to call the authorities! Let's make it even bigger this time round!



    Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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    BANDIT BOOTY!!!!
    We forgot to announce the winner for the Bandit Booty for December 24th - one of the Fab-O 12 days of Bandit Christmas.
    Drum roll please.....The winnah is.....P 226!!!
    Email me at Jeanne AT JeanneAdams DOT com and give me your snail mail addy so I can send you da prize. It's really cool...
    Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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Spirit in the sky

Whenever Never


    I get up this morning and literally run to the bathroom.

    Jeez, did I wake up, having to go. I pack up my shit and head out of the apartment to go to Starbucks, and upon opening my door, does my neighbor opens her door across from me. My neighbor from The Box, Paula. Great.

    Hello, I say. "HI," she replies, just as happy to see me as I am to see her. "Where are you off to?" Oh, some of this and some of that, I respond. I give her my back as I lock my door. I had placed my garbage at my feet. With my garbage is my latest piss bottle, sitting there like an accusation. She looks down at it, no doubt wondering what it contains. I lift everything and take a walk down the hall. She follows in lockstep. You're going to the laundry? I ask over my shoulder, noticing her bag of clothes and detergent. This is something that I should be doing myself. "Yes," she replies. We stop at the elevator. I throw out my garbage while she presses the call button. The banter is friendly and goes back and forth as we ride the elevator down.

    "You know we have a meeting to go to this Wednesday at The Box," she tells me. We do? "Yes, our Housing Class. You have to go there at the end of every month." I didn't know that. "Yes, you have to go. I'll ask if you do and leave a note under your door." That's funny, this Wednesday is New Years Eve. Why the fuck would we have to report to The Box on New Years Eve. Plus, this was my second Wednesday here and I didn't make the last housing group. Really, how important is it?

    I wave her away and head over to Starbucks, rushing as my water pill is working me to death already. I hit Starbucks and I see him again. Some one who I've noticed before, two other times here at Daddy Day Care, with his laptop open, his headsets on. He is staring at the screen of his MacBook. Diminutive, quiet, unassuming, clean shaven, simply dressed. He is one of my neighbors. I saw him leave from a door down the hall from mine twice before. He stopped, looked at me, and probably recognized me before I recognized him today. He is my neighbor, and he is also a chip head.

    I go to use the bathroom, and as I do so my mind starts churning data. Churning feverishly. He's down here at Starbucks. Wouldn't it be great whenever my Internet connection kicks in. He'll never have to come down here to Daddy Day Care again. He can jump a signal on ZAPRANOTH at anytime day or night and ride baby ride....oh shit.

    I sit back at my seat and frown at him. He's down at Starbucks. I was down here before and I don't remember seeing him with the same frequency that I do now. He looks Italian, and the signal that I used to be on so strongly, which is gone now is NAVARRE. Could that be his last name? Could NAVARRE be his router, down for the time being and because it has been he is down here at Daddy Day Care?

    Something to fucking think about. NAVARRE has been gone for some time now. A lower case Navarre is up now, and it is password protected. That's the only kink in my assumption. If he has a signal, why is he down here? Unless so too, he is not NAVARRE but a fellow piggybacker like I, and since NAVARRE has been gone, he's been forced to come downstairs like I have.

    It's a bitch being poor. I return to the bathroom and take another leak, then return to my laptop to blog and blog more. I'm a blogging mother fucker. I make phone calls on my Skype. My account is running low. I'm going to have to do something about that soon.

    The holiday season is upon me, and I am excited. There are a lot of things to be excited about. We have those days between the two major holidays of Christmas and New Years. There is an electricity in the air and people the world over are giving thanks. I sit there at my little table at Daddy Day Care while my neighbor...lets call him Cautious Carl, closes his MacBook, packs everything away, rises and leaves.

    I stare, for some reason I thought he would be here like me all day.

    Then I look at my watch. Nine Thirty in the morning. I close up shop. I'm not going to be here all day either.

    HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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Your ABC's


    I sat in the abandoned building.

    The ceilings were falling apart. Huge swaths of it covered with damp mildew, peeling plaster, and paint. The walls were in better condition, some areas sheet rocked and painted white, giving the space a studio-like appearance. The floor was unfinished with rotting wood and some other covering like cardboard.

    Metal folding chairs were arrayed in a circle around the room, the front door, a triple laminate job, would not open even from the most determined of pushes. A handful of people had gathered to read their poetry, waiting patiently for the reading to start.

    This is ABC-No Rio. The reading. I take a seat, lay my folder of poetry next to me and relax, ready to read. Everyone gets their chance at bat, with some standing to read, others reading from their seats. The reading is varied but good. Like any open mic, there is no telling what will come up. Today, along with the poets is a guitarist, who sings several of his tunes. Here, at ABC No-Rio, there are no rules, no time limit, nothing. You read until you stop. It continues on as long as it has to.

    Earlier today, I worked hard in Starbucks, blogging, and blogging a lot. I had fallen behind because of the holiday, and, frankly, I had a lot to say. A whole lot. Electra was there. We're not talking a whole lot as of late. We had a little run in and she's a little miffed over it I assume. I could care less. Not that we aren't talking, I find that to be a shame. But that we had a run in. Everyone does. People who don't see eye to eye, people who don't have conflicts, have an angle. Something is up. Someone is not being honest or real. But to allow a 'run in' to get in the way of friendship is foolish. Electra and I have been friends far too long to let a disagreement get between us.

    She's too prideful and self important, and it'll probably have to be me to mend fences. She'll only bridge the gap if she wants something. Since that's the case, I'll wait. I'll take my time. I'm in no big hurry.

    My brother soon joins me. He has agreed to go with me to ABC No Rio. We eat, rest, recoup from something, I don't know what, but we are not all that energetic. I'm looking towards another interview, which started off oddly. One of the hosts has me call him up long distance. For reasons he does not say, and then when I do call him, he's surprised that I did ring him. What in the world for? He asks. I don't fucking know you asked me to call you. Remember. Well...someone else asked him to ask me to call him for an interview.

    I knew that this was going to be trouble. I don't do phone interviews. And this off the cuff interview was not sitting all that well with me. I took a few notes, hoping to cover more ground in my taped interview. But that was a lost cause. After the reading, the interview with the hosts was like pulling teeth. I've had tough interviews before, but this took the cake. I honestly felt that I would have gotten a little more from everyone if we came down to blows. My brother is stewing in the corner. I wonder what has pissed him off here in this place. Something is bothering him.

    My camera stops working, and the one picture that it does give me is washed out. Great. It's lasted with me for all of these years and just now, when I need it the most, when my interviewing career has just started to move forward, it starts to fuck up.

    Maybe it's the building. Maybe there is some continuum here that is working against me. Maybe abandoned buildings and me don't work. Everything is quickly over, and for the first time in a long while do I have the feeling of missing the mark. These things happen though. That's life, right? Things like this happen all the time to the professionals don't they? They all have the unreasonably bad interview, the odd exchange that looks as bad on paper as it does in real life. Although this interview will not be on paper, it will still look as bad as it was.

    I left with my brother, going over the wreckage of my interview in my head. He was still cranky over something and I didn't bother to go into it with him. We walked uptown a little ways and parted. I was going to head all the way up to the 14th street station, but punked out. I was tired and the walk, although good for me, would do little more than wear me out further. I hopped onto the Way at Astor Place and went home.

    I stopped off in the corner Starbucks to get on line and finish blogging. I can't wait until I can get ZAPRANOTH up and running. I canceled my installation appointment earlier today and rescheduled it for Friday evening. Hopefully, this would be it, and the mornings and nights at Starbucks would be over. I would at last have the Holy Grail in my grasp. Heat, power and WIFI.
    Life is indeed good.

    I close up shop and head upstairs to bed.

    HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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New year 2009 wallpapers

Friends Be Told


    I had to recover from the beverages.

    I finally got out of bed a day later. My stomach stopped churning, my muscles began to obey. My faint dizziness subsided. Could it have been all of the organic stuff was just too healthy for me? A body that subsists on nothing but junk really can't make the transition so readily. Either that, or I'm too through with drinking.

    I'm giving it a test today. I'm to meet up with KC and Betty for drinks and dinner today. With this being said, if it was from drinking that my malaise was caused, I'll soon have a repeat performance.

    I got up, it was before light out. The kid was playing his guitar amazingly early, and the old man was singing out of his window. He constantly sounds drunk with slurred speech. This is one man that never sobers up. Never. And for some reason, he is enamored with his voice outside of his window. He couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle, and he mangles songs to such an extent that if you didn't recognize some of the words, you would have no clue of what he was straining out to sing.

    But he was up too this morning. I cleaned my room, tried to get online. Did all the little things that I had to do, and then packed and straightened everything up for the SHOUT OUT later today. I hitched my gear on my back and headed to the Way, going downtown to Smith's Bar and Restaurant, and got there long before our arranged meeting time. I sided up to the bar, and ordered a boilermaker. It was a long time since I had one, and wanted to break my cherry in right.

    Soon, KC and Betty arrive and the drinks went around the second time. I still felt very little of a 'hit' so I kept on. OBSIDIAN arrives shortly after that, and the four of us quickly move on to Ruby Tuesday for lunch/dinner. God, I'll be honest. I didn't eat in a day and a half. I spent all of yesterday in bed asleep, recuperating. This morning, just two cups of coffee and I was out the door. But now, sitting before a plate of food, and a flight of red wine, I suddenly felt quite hungry. I scarfed everything before me like a Skeksis on the run. I looked at KC's plate when he was done, and he was kind enough to hand over his leftovers. I scarfed that, and then looked at my brother's ribs. He let me cut off a piece of that, while Betty handed me a piece of her chicken. GOD. I was an inhaling ravenous beast. No wonder I'm so big!

    From Ruby Tuesday we headed to the park and hung around while everyone smoked cigars or cigarettes. I abstained. I had long ago kicked the habit. It was nice out, the weather had turned in the favor of warm instead of the blistering cold that we had over the past few days. Time slipped by as we hung out together, and then it was time to hit the Way and head for the SHOUT OUT. We bade everyone farewell, passed around our hugs and best wishes and then were off. We flew to OTTO's only to find Cyndi Lauper on time today. The doors were open and our guests were already in the back waiting for us.

    OBSIDIAN was feeling good. The hooch in his system probably charging him up. He wanted to do the intro dance, and damn if I felt like dying. Not that I was ill or tired, it was just the thought of jumping around to 'Mama Said Knock You Out,' was just too much for me to bear. I begged off and got right into the SHOUT OUT. My brother took the first half, I the second. It went pretty smooth, and before we knew it, we were standing outside of the front of Otto's at the close of the SHOUT OUT, bullshitting with Oz, James, Steph with chicken on our minds. I don't know how it has come to pass but eating chicken after the SHOUT OUT has become a luxury, and one of our guilty pleasures.

    That's where we ended up, slumped over a narrow counter, with chicken between our teeth and conversation in the air. We stay for quite a while in Kennedy's Fried chicken and afterward I head for the Way and home.

    It was a damn good SHOUT OUT.

    Next I have the interview for the online magazine.

    I'm going to change up articles soon. Before the editors do it for me.

    HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Awesome

Fat Husband + Hot Wife = WTF?



    I'm a shallow bitch. Let's just get that right out of the way, shall we? That said, what the fuck is with this trend on television over the past several years of pairing a fat husband with a hot wife who's way out of his league? In the last several years shows like King of Queens, According to Jim, Still Standing and Yes Dear all had something in common, they featured attractive women married to overweight, sloppy husbands. That and the shows sucked major ass. Okay, that's two things in common for you mathletes. Is this believable? Really? I'll even wade into the deep end of the pool for a moment and take appearance out of the equation, these women are still too good for the sad sacks to whom they're hitched. It would be one thing if the guy was carrying an extra 20, 30, 40 pounds but was intelligent, interesting, charming and an overall catch but for the most part, the husbands on these sitcoms were bumbling idiots, overgrown children who were constantly getting themselves into one retarded situation after another.

    Most of these shitcoms are off the air now but the trent of fat husband, hot wife continues. One only has to look at commercials for proof. During the holidays there were a series of Staples commercials that had me wanting to shoot out the TV Elvis Presley-style. The ad featured a relatively attractive, seemingly intelligent woman and her fat ass husband telling us they decided to keep their Christmas shopping low-key this year and get each other modest gifts. The couple explains the wife still purchased the husband a pretty decent gift and then they show what the husband picked up for his wifey - a dancing Christmas tree. The way the husband acts while they're showcasing this stupid gift tells me that not only is he a fat ass, he's a dumbass as well. Seriously, the guy looks like he's mildly to moderately retarded. And this fat bastard (he's super overweight btw, not like 20 pounds overweight, I'm talking fat, like it's time to call Star Jones and ask for the name of her doctor, fat) is featured in yet another commercial, this one for the lottery. In the spot, his wife, a cute, petite blonde comes home to find her husband tattooing the logo for some low rent casino on his big, fat chest in the mirror. He turns around to reveal he's tattooed the logo on himself backwards. Something stinks about this and it ain't this dude's body odour. Again, would this cute, seemingly smart woman even look twice at this dolt in the street nevermind MARRY him? Was she under the influence of some insanely potent brand of psychotropic drugs? That is the only explanation for this match.

    Don't get me wrong, I know appearance isn't EVERYTHING (in a relationship anyway, in a one-night-stand situation, it matters much more) Personally, I'd rather date someone who's somewhat attractive but who has a wicked sense of humour, is intelligent, ambitious, charming and caring than some dude is pretty but dumber than fuck (again, I'm talking relationships here, not hookups, for hookups, they can be stupider than a box of rocks for all I care since I imagine the only words exchanged will be "yes!" "harder!" and "so...can I call you a cab?") Frankly, I've always found someone hot can easily become less attractive if he's dumb, has no sense of humour or is an all-around douchebag. Conversely, if a guy is moderately attractive but features a host of other great qualities, he becomes better and better looking. Funny = Sexy. But the men on these sitcoms and commercials don't seem to possess any of these additional qualities. They're not funny or intelligent, they're fucking buffoons!

    I realize these are actors I'm talking about and I wouldn't be so enraged about this trend if it went both ways, if, in the media we also saw really attractive men married to overweight, unattractive and stupid women. If we saw someone who looked like George Clooney in a relationship with someone who looked like Rosie O'Donnell. But we NEVER see that. NEVER. Instead, we see attractive men paired with equally, if not more attractive women. It's not fair and it suggests that women are so desperate to be paired up, to settle down and be married off that we'll settle for any man and frankly, it's insulting.Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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Ask not for whom the Ball Drops...

    by Jeanne Adams

    It drops for thee! Grins.

    Are you partying tonight? Are you getting dressed up and going out? Having people in? My house is going to fill up today with family. My brothers-in-law and their wives and sons will be arriving today to spend New Years with us. It will be loud - perhaps not quite as loud as Times Square where Bandita Jo is tonight! - but it's gonna be raucous.

    Tomorrow, we'll have a huge meal, much like Thanksgiving or Christmas with steak and pototoes and all that yummy stuff. Its wonderful because my family is in North Carolina so we travel there for Thanksgiving. No leftovers. Ahhhh, but Christmas and New Years...LEFTOVERS!!! WOOHOOO! Its amazing how much I love 'em.

    So that's all to say that we are totally BORING up here in DC. (After all, there's a big party only a couple weeks away on inauguration, can't get a sitter for both nights, right?) It's been a long time since we dressed up and went out to party. I vaguely rememer it being a total blast.

    Do you have any traditions? What do you do at New Years? I looked up a bunch of things on Wikipedia. Did you know they officially kick of New Years in Sydney, Australia? *Waving at our darling Aus Banditas* I'm sure they knew that, but for us non-Aus-ers, they do fireworks over the Sydney Harbour bridge.

    In fact they do fireworks almost everywhere, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, and India. Even in China, where they celebrate their Lunar New Year later, they blast off New Year Fireworks on "our" New Year.

    Wiki says the Italians wear red underwear at New Years, but doesn't explain it. Anyone know why? (Not that I don't like red unmentionables, but I'm curious...) In Japan they clean. Okay, I don't want to spend New Years in Japan. :> Seriously it's the time to clear the temples and prepare to welcome the god of the New Year. (I still don't want to clean) In New Zealand, evidently the Black Caps cricket team play a New Years One Day game. Seems they've outlawed liquor in some places due to those rowdy Kiwis going beyond the reckless and into the vandalous.

    Another odd one from Wiki is Mexico. Again with the red undies - for those who wish to find love - and get this...YELLOW undies for luck with money. (The guy to the left is the closest to yellow undies I could find, but he does look LUCKY...right?) I wonder if stripes gets you both? Oh and in Peru, there's the whole yellow-for-luck-undies, plus if you walk around the block with a suitcase, you'll get the trip of your dreams in the new year. In both countries, they eat a grape for every strike of the clock at midnight and make a wish for each grape. I like that one. I'm going to use it tonight! Grapes, I have.

    Do you make resolutions? If so, how many - one or a hundred? Something in between? Do you make family resolutions? I have a friend who gets her husband and kids together on New Years Eve and they make family resolutions for the year. Its pretty cool. They also have a 1/2 New Years in June, to check and see how they're doing on their resolutions!

    Now I know Tawny's one of our Major List Makers - I'm betting she makes resolutions right along with her goals - and I know there were quite a number of Bandita Buddies who confessed to being inveterate list makers as well.

    So, fess up. Do you make 'em? Do you check on 'em half-way through the year? Do you keep 'em till the next turn of the Year?

    And another time for confession....is one of your goals this year to finish the D*mn BOOK? Grins.

    So ready the fireworks, get the undies on, pick up a suitcase (writing's a journey, after all!) and let's celebrate a FABULOUS new year. It's the countdown to the Ball Drop, the countdown to the Queen's Speech (Denmark and the UK), countdown to some wonderful resolutions.

    Let's hear 'em, Ladies and Gentlemen!Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/12/
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