The cat or the egg...

Is it just me, or do my child + feline friend sort of look alike? Which came first...did I birth the child who morphed into a cat, or did the cat I found become a child? My brain hurts.

 Hmm...

How was your weekend?

Candyland. OUT.

Feel Me Up Friday: I guess I'll put on pants

I had a whole post ready for today. Really, I did. But then the funniest thing happened: I got food poisoning for the second time THIS WEEK. It wasn't the spoonfuls of icing, or the half a can of nuts I ate at 1am the night prior. In fact, the only thing I can attribute it to is...get this...FRUIT. So, I'm taking this as a sign that I should not be eating so much fruit and to up my intake of icing and nuts.

In the meantime, warm up your hands. Let's get busy.

Random Fact: When I say the words "Let me put on my pants," you better watch out. Something fancy is going on like I'm actually leaving the house. This is rare.

Random Fact: I'm a pretty tough Latino/Pacific Islander/African American/Guatemalan/[insert other races in which people have assumed I am], but during thunder storms, I will not cut you. You will, in fact, find me shivering in the corner of the closet, crying. Boom boom scares me.

I know some of you don't reside in America, but Monday is a holiday in which I shall partake. Any excuse to eat more food, really. Yes, I'm thinking of food even when the stomach Gods are churning a sour stew on top of my baby's head. And to the one of you who still reads this silly blog, that means I will probably just stare at the computer screen instead of actually type something into it.

Until Tuesday, I invite you to tell me your fears, no matter how asinine. I'll start. I'm afraid terrified will pee my pants over: Toilet rims with anything on them. And to be honest, letting my parents see me pregnant. Because they now know what I do in my spare time.You're turn.

Happy weekend, friends.

Candyland. OUT.

Finding HOPE in uncertainty

Right now, the fates are deciding whether or not the Candyland fam can buy a house, if agents/editors will love or hate the ms, and how healthy my bun will be when he's done baking. There's not a lot I can do, other than sit and wonder and hope and wish for the best.

Like all those affected by the tornadoes. 

Those people are utterly and completely helpless, at the hands of Mother Nature and her wrath. Though one thing that always *gets* me in the wake of tragedy are the heroic and inspirational stories of hope and survival. Of a boy who rescued his family. Or a baby found after days of searching. After a lone tree is found standing in the midst of disaster. No matter what happens in our lives...the personal tornadoes, both physically and metaphorically, that make us question our faith or our finiteness, just remember there is one thing you can control:

How much hope you hold on to.

Some might say it doesn't make a difference, whatever will be, will be. I believe coma patients awaken after years of darkness because of hope. I believe cancer in special little men will go into remission for good, because of hope. I believe my second child is still growing inside me, because of hope. That's not to say that those who have it, and still endure tragedy, aren't hopeful enough or aren't deserving of a better outcome.

But I am saying that in a world full of rejection and NO and "I'm so sorry," if you do nothing else, hold onto the hope that better things will come. Somehow, someway. Because without it, exactly what are you holding on to?

What are you hoping for today?

Candyland. OUT.

Blargh.

Sorry for the delay, to the one or two of you who might actually read my pointless thoughts. Candyland came down with food poisoning this weekend, and though I started to feel better yesterday, I'm sort of blargh today. Sure, I got BR80 hugs Friday. And sure, it was the hubs's bday. And I have lots to say about nothing. But as for today, this is all I have.

Until tomorrow...blargh.

Candyland. OUT.

Don't you do it

I had something else to talk about today but in case I missed anyone, I want to let you know that my email was hacked. If you received a link "from me," do NOT click on it. I wouldn't send you a link, unless it's of New Medicine or a More Cowbell skit. And I certainly wouldn't do it without rambling on and on first.

On a side note, while said hacker was wasting all this time, I was enjoying a 1/2 can of frosting, thankyouverymuch.

Has your account ever been hacked? Kind of blows.

Here's to *hoping* for a better day. No more hacking. Or rejections. Or fallout from the frosting.

Candyland. OUT. 

This is what...

A headache looks like.

I have to work, breathe and tend to my child. But other than that, friends, this post is all you get until tomorrow. I'm sure you're SO disappointed. I know I would be. Who doesn't want to read my useless crap every day? Wait...who doesn't not want to read my...wait...who does want to not read my...uhh...yeah, time for a break.

Until tomorrow, tell me, what are your best headache remedies? Meds? Ice? Rest? Laughter?


Candyland. OUT.

Fear is the monster under my bed

I forgot how hard it is. To put yourself out there. To write, what you think, is your best. To be rejected. I don't miss this. The last couple of days, I've had a rush of fear. What if I made the wrong choice, leaving my agent? What if she was the only ONE who will give me a chance? What if I just threw away my dream?

Now, I'm not sure. About anything.

I'm sure there's a few of you out there who went through something similar. If so, tell me, how did you get through this initial period of "OMG WHAT DID I DO?"

I'm not sure what today brings, or tomorrow. I know that I have stories to tell and characters who are very real to me. I know when I saw my baby boy in an ultrasound at 5 weeks (when they said he wouldn't survive), I held on to the hope he'd fight. And here I am at 17 weeks, and he's healthy.

I know I don't give up easily, though it's been a bumpy ride and I'm running out of amazing agents to query. I know if I don't write, I feel empty. I know this process shouldn't be easy, but maybe it shouldn't be so hard, either...

The only thing for sure is, I know not where I belong, where I fit, this morning. Do you ever feel this way or is it just me?


Candyland. OUT.

Dust yourself off: Sometimes crap happens

It's life. You can't control everything, as much as you may try. Oh, that's just me? Huh. Well over the past 5+ months, I've learned plenty of lessons whether I wanted to or not. Take what you from this, but I honestly believe everything happens for a reason and once those things are said and done, you're going to be SO much stronger.

On January 1st, I suffered my 2nd miscarriage.
A week or so later, I signed with my agent.
A month-two later, I was revising and still grieving.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
And I kept revising.
But something didn't feel right.
A couple of months thereafter, my agent and I decided to part ways.
But my baby is healthy and growing.

So you see, sometimes the bad is mixed with some good and the other way around. If I have any actual, useful advice for you, writer friends, it's this: NEVER SETTLE. EVEREVEREVER.

If you have a feeling things aren't right, no matter the situation, make it right. Life is too short to take "whatever you get." Strive for THE BEST. This is your career/baby/cupcake/whatever. You're not in control of everything, but you can control what you write, think and feel. And you can most definitely control how you act. Be classy, be confident, be courageous.

Now, I write you, humbly, as I begin the query process all over again. But this time, I feel free. And my bar is set even higher.

Tell me, friends, if in the same situation (and deargodpleaseno), will you start all over again, or wave the white flag? WHY?


Candyland. OUT.

Post MDay hangover of the emotional kind

So, yesterday was the the big M-Day. It was pretty much perfect (except when the hubs disappeared for an hour- when I was supposed to be enjoying my time-so he "and the offspring" could wax the vehicle; she was not interested). But I digress. Aside from that, I got the best presents in the last few days:

 

How about you? Did you celebrate a special Mother in your life? Did you eat delicious food like a GiGi's cupcake? Mmm...cupcake...


Candyland. OUT.

Growing a penis is hard work (pun intended)

Um, sorry for the absentee post yesterday. My bad.

As most of you know, I've been baking a bun in my oven for a few months now and as of today, we know this little pastry is sure to be of the male specimen. I know, because I saw the parts. Sure, I would be lying if I told you I didn't tear up at the sight of a man in my uterus. Because I love my princess SO much, I've been daydreaming of another little angel.

Actually, let me be honest (and when am I not?).

I cried. And cried. And cried. (And cried some more). After everything I've gone through (two losses in two years, one healthy princess), I know I should just shut up and be grateful for this miracle. And I am, believe me.

However, my heart breaks knowing all the dresses, baby dolls and pink blankies will be stuffed away. Until the hubs lets me have another. Or never. So today, friends, Imma hafta take a step back and let myself get used to the fact that there has been, in fact, a penis growing inside my body all these weeks, without my knowledge...

In the mean time, tell me, do you have a boy or girl human? What about pet? If you have both, how were they different? And you may want to keep your boy horror stories to yourself in my time of acceptance :)


Candyland. OUT.

My dog is crosseyed + I want bigger MOOBS

The A to Z challenge is officially over and O-M-G I'm SOOO ready to get back to my mindless, regularly scheduled postings. Okay, so, my A to Z posts were as mindless as all my others, but still. They lacked a certain flava. You know, that bittersweet taste of...what's the word...CANDY.

Welcome new friends, btw. You'll soon see, if you haven't already, this is a place for all. No matter your size, shape, or IQ, you can always come here and *know* you are sort of AMAZING.

Speaking of, throughout the challenge, there were some interesting search stats. Um, you all are weird.

There are no cons. Justin Bieber is definitely overrated. Don't doubt yourself, fellow searcher. 

 I am absolutely priceless. Unless you have an indecent proposal of sorts. In which case, I cost. A lot.

 I thought I did a pretty good job of keeping my sekrit project under wraps. Hrm...

 ......There are no words....I'm sorry your dog is cross-eyed...

Bigger is not always better, but to get bigger MOOBS, uh, eat more.

I love you, fellow weirdos. LOVE.

Tell me, what have you searched for lately? Anything weird? I won't tell.

Candyland. OUT.