“Eighteen days” said the feed status since the last time I wrote in this corner of the Internet Highway. Is that a sad display of blog love or is it a clear sign of neglect? Either way,  thankfully this blog can’t call me in or report me to a blog neglect site (that I know of anyway) Can you imagine if our blogs have a voice? Rights? A say in how things went down? I shudder to think! Provocation would be one of the first blogs seized and shuffled into a blog foster care system.

~Outta Here~

Basically I’ve been off in Rebecca LaLa Lands with a side of absorbing changes, packing up my house to move, pondering the direction of my next 10 years, and writing where my writing dictated I go, which is a different location. When I go into overloaded mode, I tend to shut down non-major artery systems and it seems, this aspect of my life is the first to go, typically. Ehhh, enough of that……

I’m moving, houses that is (no more blog moves, evvahher)

Who knew moving would uncover a hundred things I thought long gone. As I pack up each day I find myself going, “Oh hell, so that’s where I put that” and “Oh, why do I even have this…donation time!” The worst exclaim that can be heard at my soon to be deserted home is “OMG - Get the hazard suit, the dust bunnies have been located and they have been breeding.” I’ve confirmed that what you don’t see, can’t hurt you and ignorance is dust particle bliss.

There’s a reason I’m a strict creature of habit. I like having my things exactly where I want them and having my life in boxes is not such a great feeling. Although I’m excited to move into the new digs, this grey zone is grade A torture. I know some people who move on a yearly basis and at this point, I can’t even comprehend how they do it. I’ve lived in this house for 8 years (creature of habit) which is evidenced by the dust bunny population.

Until I get finished moving, get unpacked, get resettled and all Rebecca cozy and comfy, posting on this site and interaction on the Internet will continue to be minimum at best. I take comfort in my complete and total trust in the fact this world will continue chugging along it’s merry way without me. I know this because I have not achieved world domination as of yet and no one is counting on me in the least. It’s good to be a nobody ~

And Lastly. Over my years of blogging I have exchanged addresses with many people from the Internet world. I’ve sent things afar in the mail and received some great notes and letters back. My address is changing so I decided to do something I probably should have done a long time ago. I purchased myself a private personal mailbox. If those that have my address could revise to this new address, that would be great. If you didn’t have my address and want to send me a hello in a real live mailbox, well, here ya go! I might feel better about my 70 dollars for 6 months mailbox purchase if I actually get something in the mail (grin)

New Address;
Rebecca Anne
3527 S. Federal Way, Ste 103, #221
Boise, Idaho
83705

P.S. I don’t live there so attempting any form of cyber stalker might be tricky. The guy that runs the place looks like he could kick some ass. Ya know, just thought I should mention that.

 Yesterday brought the first day of October and with that new date an impressive show of bone chilling cold to Idaho. Well hello Mr. Fall/Winter you sorta kicked Summer and her blazing warm panties off her September soapbox, now didn’t ya. I’m ok with that because I was pretty tired of wearing my warm weather clothing and hats all the time. Plus my favorite pair of flip-flops broke on Tuesday, so that was a decent time to say buh-bye to Summer.

Kate in the Red Kilt

I spent the last official weekend of warm weather outside with my family listening to beautiful music and watching lots and lots of men in kilts walking around. At this point I totally get the historical romance novels and why those buxom babes swoon over their Highland scoundrels. A guy in a kilt is rather sexy.

Of course, my Mother who plays the bagpipes and my daughter who plays the snare drum were also in kilts, but for a lady it can’t be sexy (especially family), so it’s just cool. Watching Kaitlyn perform next to all the big giant men in kilts is jaw dropping for me personally, as the El Mommasun. She always looks so teenie tiny, which she is of course, because she’s only 5 feet 1 whole inch. My other daughter Shelby is a short shrimp as well at 5 feet 2 whole inches. The fact I, who is tall enough not to personally know a single female taller than me, is perplexed by my short daughters. Genetically speaking, they should have been at least 5 foot plus 8 inches or more…….

Yesterday Provocation of Mine experienced another 404-error blackout for an estimated 5 hours. I know the world kept spinning for everyone else, but for me, I have learned certain lessons when it comes to messing with webspace in ones domain administration page. To put it simple, don’t touch things. In fact, just stay away from the interior bowels, don’t even sign in to look around. Basically, I humbly swear, never to touch a damn thing again…for I am undeniably voodoo cursed.

That’s it, that’s all I’ve got for today. I wish everyone a happy and enjoyable October.

Well Helllooooo Darlings, how’s it going? Whats up? Are we shakin and shimmerin? Does everyone have life by the balls, you know, the balls that we prefer rolling smoothly downhill and not being pushed up thee hypothetical hill? I do hope so. I’m of reliable authority on the matter of life balls (repeat:life) and can say, pushing them up a hill is rather tedious.

Over the last week or so, a few individuals have waved their magical wands and bestowed upon me various mentions and awards. Now, I know I’m notoriously bad, awful, most certainly lacking and downright borderline anti-social in the blogging world. (Fault admission by definition is the level of truth one willingly puts forth, not to be confused with excuses) However despite my social deficits, I do take notice, most certainly appreciate and always feel grateful for such mentions.

So without further tongue tripping, I’d like to publicly thank:

Drey of Dreys Library for picking me out of her huge fan base for the “Lets be Friends award” Thank you!! I read the definition of this award and felt most humbled. Thank you for the smiles~

If you are a book lover, a giveaway seeker and enjoy reading reviews and insight to new books on the market this blog is for you. I for one have WON, as in chi-ching-winner-winner-winner, books from her site and was beyond delighted. Go check it out and may the book force be with you~

Indigo Roth from the illustrious Indigo Wrath Blog chased me down and pinned the Honest Scrap award on my forehead. When I realized what he had done I tried to come up with a quick lie that could get me out of it, but telling him I was really an Internet robot programmed to write occasional random and irrelevant words of subliminal messages didn’t seem believable, I figured I would accept. Thank you~

Indigo Roth has one good ear and an entertaining blog with some rather witty and interesting commentary. I suggest checking it out. Oh, and since I’m the honest soul let me remind the world~ Snicker Bars and Diet Coke are like, totally healthy~

Debra, Debra, Debra of Debra l Schubert sent my direction the Superior Scribbler Award. I take this as quite the compliment considering Debra is a real live, real deal, as in writes books, hobnobs with agents, goes to book conferences sort of writer.

In fact, I’d bet my favorite pen that Debra even has writers stench which I happen to think is a very admirable trait and I completely aim to emulate. In my humble opinion there’s nothing more divine than the aroma of a day full of writing.

Go visit her site, it’s always rockin good fun ~ Thank you Debra and ehhh, don’t take that writers stench the wrong way, it’s snort-able in the best of ways.  

So do I get a tiara with any of those? Or maybe a sparkly staff I can swing from the rock I’ve squatted on perhaps? Creepy, why is it when I typed those words a menacing voice spoke up in my mind and rumbled, “No sparkles for you, evahhh, rule breaker!”

 There’s a lot of rules, guidelines, terms and conditions that I’m pretending never existed with those above awards. Soo… I have a doctors note? I know, I’ve got me an internal defense system that revolts at reading instructions? My computer imploded when it realized I was trying to follow the proper steps? I got kicked off the cheer leading squad for doing an unauthorized back flip which has traumatized me for life in the rules department ? No? None of those excuses work? Ok, fine, back to the truth zone of personal admission. I suck.

Psstt….Snicker Bars and Diet Coke are the lifeline of humanity ~

Ode to the Snickers Bar

If health is a “frame of mind and body”, then I should say my frame is the type one might find in the discount bin at the local Salvation Army. No. strike that…that’s giving my health stock too much value. I’m probably more like the frame that has split in several places and someone tossed it in the garbage bin because they were too embarrassed to donate it to the Salvation Army.

Yup, that’s me. Garbage bin extraordinaire.

Adopting a healthy plan of attack seemed like a reasonable if not sound solution to my current struggling mentality. Eat right, exercise daily and by general principle alone a person should FEEL overall better. That’s the rumor, that’s what a million and two articles suggest, talk shows, Oprah, even Doctors imply such drastic measures!

So I thought I’d give the healthy side of the coin a whirl~ I’m trying ~ But I’m flailing ~ But I’m still keeping an open mind………..

I believe a person either has a healthy inner mentality or they don’t. A bit like either someone is a drinker–or not. Smoker–or not, Gambler–or not. Nascar watcher–or hell no, not. I fall into the never thought about it, never cared about it, never bought a scale to watch weight, never looked at labels, “is 2800 calories for a milk shake bad?”, never afraid of McDonalds and always willing to eat a light dinner so I could take seconds at the dessert table, side of the railroad tracks.

Since I’ve never been on a diet for weight or health, in my entire life, eating with intention and attention is a COMPLETELY foreign concept. I’ve read everything I could get my hands on because that’s what a person does when they start at the kindergarten level. Right now, if good intention and reading about going healthy and wholesome counted for anything I’d be a fine tuned human being fully loaded with optimized joints and muscles like lean meat. All the pistons in my brain would be firing on perfectly timed belts and I’d probably float down the street during my daily walks/runs like a messiah parting the seas from my, oh so healthy, air current. Sadly, reading doesn’t count for a whole lot in this department……..

I’ve ran into some real (huge) problems with this endeavor. Adjustments and exceptions seem to crop up every single day and evidently my Will Power Corporation is at odds with my Ambitious LLC.  

Here are some general observations and exceptions

• Diet Coke should be allowed into the program because it has the word Diet in it. ‘Nuff said, I don’t want to hear it~
• Healthy eating is irrelevant in the face of monster buffets at family reunions~
• Dinner at Moms house is exempt from moderation because she is a fabulous cook~
• Whole wheat pasta takes like shit cardboard paste and by gag reflex alone is OFF the menu~
• Anything that makes me gag once is off the menu, no exceptions~
• A carrot stick is NOT a Snicker bar, no matter how I attempt to convince my mind it’s a decent snack~
• Going healthy makes an extremely unhealthy body feel even worse…current rumor implies that’s temporary, but I’m starting to think people just like watching misery from afar~
• Doing sit ups is the most BORING exercise known to man~
• Be cautious of anything that says ‘zero fat, zero sugar, zero carbs or zero anything’ ~
• Self denial inspires criminal thoughts. Things like, “Eat that Butterfinger in front of me and I will physically hurt you” and so on~

This shall stand as my official confession from the trenches of Health & Truth

• Exception number 58-telling the truth earns one cookie

I’m not sure what it’s like for other people. I can’t say what their dark place of mental residence is decorated with or smells like. I don’t know how it tastes or how much it weighs on their shoulders. I do know it’s a place other people go.

I’m not sure if I can, or should, explain my personal brand of Lavender Black. There isn’t a map to show how I surrender to such a place, or how I eventually find my way back. It simply, happens.

I can say that naming my dark is an act of conventional word defiance. It’s my personal perspective; the condition may be ordinary, but I can name it and decorate it any way I please. Lavender Black isn’t a desirable destination, but it is a place. My place. It’s quiet there and the deeper I wander in, the fact is, the less I participate in the world around me.

Typically, I can still write while meandering through such a space of individual seclusion. Some of my best writing has originated from time spent in my lavender realm, but sometimes, I move past the threshold of expression and the result is silence. It’s where I’ve been these last few weeks, beyond the green fields and purple flowers. In this version, I walked deep into the black parts of Lavender and disappeared for awhile.

Going to Lavender Black is easy enough, coming back proves difficult. There’s something sadly comfortable about suffocating in a zone meant only for single occupancy. It’s a self indulgent territory dripping with familiarity and knowing. If there’s one place that covets a thousand reasons for being dark and twisty, it’s the back room in my mind that collects life’s little black trinkets like a chemically imbalanced pack rat.

Surface maintenance. That’s how I handle day to day reality when I’ve gone off into my place of silence. When a body is in trouble, it has the ability to shut off functions to everything but the vitals. I’ve fined tuned that perspective when it comes to the dark side of my personality. Vitals=Family and that’s the scope of my selective interactions during Lavender Black spells.

Either people will understand this about me, or they won’t. It’s nothing personal. Never has been. I understand that it isn’t easy to accept or understand, not when people interact and depend on feedback/input from one another. My occasional shut downs go against the human nature rules of engagement and I realize I always run the risk of hurting the feelings of other people when I dissolve into myself. Regrettably, my only recourse is to try and pick up the pieces once I’ve came back.

I’m not sure it serves any purpose by writing about this, here, publicly, other then disclosure. But it is who I am. A part of me, one I find both interesting and challenging. Just as I observe the world around me, it’s important I spend time observing my interior workings, the beautiful, the black and the unexplainable…….