Hello There

“It’s been seven hours and fifteen days…”

Or more like seven months since I last posted. And for that, I am sorry.

I’m sorry because what devoted readers I did have have probably forgotten my very existence.

I’m sorry because I have found myself in a maelstrom funk that has continuously tried to drown any creativity out of me since I’ve quit writing.

I’m sorry because the drama of my life still exists, and you’ve all missed out on the daily dose of neurosis.

So let me sum up:

My child is now a cheeky little shit, who’s favorite thing to do is yell “SHIT!” at the top of his lungs and giggle uncontrollably, or to get right in my face and mimic a howling monkey. Actually, he’s a pretty good kid, who loves me more than anyone else, so all the other stuff is alright.

I took my Rockstar to Vegas for my birthday, where we mostly had a fabulous time, other than the moments following my  hour-long search for him during a concert, where he drunkenly cried, “Fuck you! Fuck you!” at me for no good reason. This was followed by my walking three miles down the Las Vegas Strip by myself in a tipsy rage, which was somewhat stabilized by the many offers of hugs (and money) I received. Whatever fun we did have was dampened by having a crazy man open fire on innocents from Mandalay Bay the very next day after we got home.

I’ve replaced my serving job with teenagers with a serving job with college students and am now suffering through the hell that is called Endless Shrimp. My coworkers all think I’m completely nuts, and I think they are not wrong.

I have in mind a new book series I must bring myself to work on, so it is yet to be determined whether my re-entrance to blogging will be successful.

To all of you that are still around, I’ve missed you, and will endeavor to try and get my muchness back.

XOXO

P.S. In the meantime, enjoy a Halloween picture.

Five Years

Hey there, Strangers.

It’s been a long time. If you, my lovely readers, and I were in a relationship, you’d have every right to toss me aside for someone who doesn’t neglect you as I have the last few months. But, let me tell you something- after five years, relationships tend to go through a stale time before they get stronger. For yes, WordPress has informed me that it has been five years and a few days since I did begin a little online rant called sparklebumpsthebookwhore. Said action forever changed my life, I believe, completely for the better. It is hoped that it did, too, change all of your lives for the better. My histrionica convinces me it most certainly did.

Though I have not yet found life-altering fame, I will say that I am taking baby steps (sometimes very literally) to expand my horizons and experience new things I’ve never before experienced. I’ve thrown my best friend (who I met through my blog several years ago) a rather fabulous bridal shower, and just this past weekend joined her and her other favorites for a bachelorette party that included a horse-drawn carriage ride through the city. (Numerous Uber rides were also a first; I shall never forget the four of us piling into a Ford Fiesta driven by a friendly individual resembling Austin Power’s Fat Bastard. Good Times.)

My life has vastly improved in the last half-decade; this is mainly due to a little man who  resembles me too closely at times- mostly when he’s butting his head against whatever’s nearby when he’s pissed off. Yes, I have the mental maturity to not actually smash my head against inanimate objects, but, I promise, I’m doing it in my head constantly. Perhaps this is the reason I sometimes forget what I’m saying mid-sentence, and find it hard to focus on pretty much everything….

Yes, my Babe is too much like his mother, but in some ways, that’s great. (in my opinion.) His constant growling and attacking his stuffed animals and the dog proves that his wild imagination is intact, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Things with my Rockstar are less sexy that I’d necessarily wish them to be, but that will happen when there’s a toddler about and our work schedules are completely opposite. He still has amazing hair, and a habit of buying very expensive guitar gear. Ah, well. Boys will be boys.

My Rockstar’s Daughter is now officially a high-schooler (cringe), and I have come to realize that for the most part, we will have to ignore each other for the next four years for both of us to make it out alive. That’s all I’m going to say about that for now.

I’m still masquerading as a waitress until I finish my book, but as of this week, I got a $3 an hour raise, so I can’t really complain…even though one of my joyful “managers” refers to me as a “stupid fucking cunt”  to whomever will listen. Let’s just say the feeling is mutual. Even if he is a dude.

I am making more of an effort to use my time more wisely toward writing, which should go swimmingly unless they add an unknown season of Sons of Anarchy on Netflix, so you shouldn’t have to wait so long again for me to entertain you again. We’ll have to see if being a mother has drained me of my general amazingness.

XOXO,

Sparklebumps

The Girl That Was

I suppose I am still Her, at least a little bit. That girl who blurbed on and on about mostly herself in all those previous posts that were so entertaining in a car-crash-sort-of-way. My biggest problem now is navigating WordPress’s new look. It has been many moons and a daylight savings time since I’ve thought much about my blog. Aye, me.

To say that I have the perfect baby would be a crude understatement. Yes, at least most mothers would say as much about their own spawn, but how many can actually say they are being honest when they say it? Of all the lies I will never admit I may have told in my life, this is not one of them. My Boy is the essence of everything good that is in me, and all the good that is not in me, too. He bears no hint of the darkness that resides in me, and is forever ready with a smile for anyone who pays him any mind. If there is any evil in him, it may only be heard in the demon shriek he has perfected, which he really only uses to entertain himself.

My life in other aspects is somewhat more bleak. In my previous post, I hinted of dissention in my relationship. ‘Tis not the stuff of beloved Rom-Coms these days, unless we are referring to the part in such movies where the lovers spat. Yes, it is safe to say that there is much spatting going on. Let’s just blame it all on the Rockstar’s Daughter.

Ok, it’s not entirely her fault, but I do believe her existence begets a black hole of exhaustion that sucks in everyone she comes in contact with. Even the dog is bone-weary. Ha. I made a joke there.

That being said, I felt the need to brief you all on the goings-on of your Bookwhore. I cannot say with any certainty that I will be back in any capacity closely resembling the former Me, but I have been feeling the need to once again take up my quill and write. (Something other than just my book, that is.)

Until We Meet Again,

XOXO

Sparklebumps

New Year, New Me

…As if I really needed to improve on me in the first place.

I did decide that I need to be a little bit more focused, but oooh! Look at the pretty Christmas lights across the street! OK, so being focused is something I might really have to focus on. At least I’ve realized that much. It is hoped that becoming a mother this year may help in that department just a little. I do not wish for my son to see me as a flaky person. (I shall do all in my power to hide the fact that I am from him.)

As far as my blog goes, I know how much of a disappointment I have been in the past year, and I resolve to do better. No more all-day marathons of Glee or The Tudors until after I have written on my blog. And just to test me, Netflix has found it necessary to make ten seasons of Friends available for viewing. Bastards.

Too, I find it necessary to finish writing at least one book this year. It would make sense for said book to be the one I’ve gotten the most work done on; however, I feel that authoring and illustrating a children’s book may be in my nearer future. But, since I have no child-like inspirations that come to mind as of yet, I resolve to work on my already-begun book for now, at least two hours a day. (Two hours is many hours for me to stay focused these  days. Perhaps after the Babe is born, I shall jack it up to four hours a day.)

As most normal people do, I ,too, resolve to lose weight this year. The really awesome thing is that I get to wait until April to work on this one. (The second-best thing about being pregnant.) To ensure that my initial goal to be the hottest mom ever is reached, my Rockstar’s Daughter has hinted that she believes I will forever be fat after the baby is born. (Perhaps only in hopes that she can have my never-worn, too-small little black dress.) After telling her how rude such a sentiment was, I silently thanked her for reinforcing my intentions of amazing hotness.

I thought that perhaps I would choose a resolution that would make me a better person- namely, to be kind to those certain individuals that irritate the piss out of me. I then thought better of any such ridiculousness, as I am not so good a person that that objective would ever be met; too, it is just so much easier to ignore such peoples. Luckily, one of these unfortunate souls is no longer employed at my place of business, so any behavior considered rude by my scorning of this person is forgiven already. Yay me.

For my last resolution, I do so intend to be the book whore I so claim to be, with the help of Amazon’s list of 100 Books to Read in a Lifetime. I was a bit saddened that I had read only twenty-nine of these life-changing books, but I intend to make a good-sized dent in the remaining seventy-one. I was, however, excited to find that though I hadn’t read many off the list, I own a surprising number of them. Yay me once again.

As for you, my fine readers, I have found this video to wish you all a wonderful New Year. (My Rockstar has a man crush on Kid Rock, and laughs his ass off at this video.)

Sparkle in Bloggerland

Where am I? All this seems so familiar somehow, as if maybe I dreamed it once. Or twice.

I thought I knew my way around this place, but clearly, I was mistaken, because it took me about ten minutes to figure out how to get to a new post page. Is this what WordPress has come to? Throwing in with the likes of Facebook and changing their format for us poor unfortunates who have been asleep for a hundred years and haven’t made it over here in awhile? Unheard of. Absurd!

Well, it seems my endless days of puking and suffering are finally at an end. In other words, I’ve had enough of these bad pregnancy symptoms and plan to only glow with glorious womanly fertility from this point on. I hope. Although I’m feeling a bit perturbed today, so maybe I’m not as zen yet as I’d hoped. Whatever, fuckers.

I’d like to take a moment and thank all of you who happened to remember me in my time of trial, as my stats inform me that I’ve received at least 20 visitors a day in my absence. (Yay me!) Considering that I’ve written very little of actual wit or interest in the past months, I see that as a good sign. Or maybe it’s just those bastard SPAM people. I guess we’ll never know.

Well, I dragged my ass to the computer today, which is a huge accomplishment for me these days, and as I really have nothing of inspiration to write, I must leave this once-again familiar place. I just wanted you all to know that I’m not dead (yet) and that my boobs have gotten bigger, so you can all rejoice. XOXO

642 Things To Write About #2: Trouble

Since it has been many moons since my last blog post, and I am feeling completely uninspired at the moment (due to the somewhat early hour of the day), I have decided to take another writing prompt from my handy book 642 Things to Write About. This shall be the second time I’ve used this lovely little writing aid, as the first time is posted HERE. My topic for the day?

Five things that always get you into trouble.

I’m sure that if I answer this with no filter, I will get into trouble. Is that what this question is supposed to do, I wonder?

Well, here goes….

1. My mouth.

And not even in the way you pervs are thinking, so get your mind out of the gutter! Ok, well, maybe in the past my mouth has gotten me in trouble that way…. but anyhoo, I digress. What I meant to say was, my mouth is like a moving box that’s been crushed and mangled and used one too many times. No matter how much you tape it up and try to get stuff to stay put inside it, stuff just continues to fall out, even when you put your hands over the top of it. Maybe it’s not such a huge deal now, but damn. I’m fucked if I ever become famous. Prepare yourselves for the continuous controversy of Shit Sparkle Said. I just hope people don’t despise me as much as I despise Kanye West.

2. My boobs.

You knew it was coming. Need I explain? Excessive boobage has caused dispute throughout history. Just look at Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, and Anne Boleyn. Ok, that last one was a guess, but it is probably a good assumption that a well-endowed chest had something to do with Henry VIII’s decision to renounce Catholicism and dump his first wife.

3. My histrionic personality.

Which causes me to flirt incessantly, even with people I don’t necessarily find attractive, which in turn causes feelings of adoration and infatuation to fester into feelings of malice and hostility in people unlucky enough to wander through my fickle attentions. I would not consider  myself a heartbreaker, but I’ve certainly pulverized a few.

4. My book addiction.

And my shoe addiction. Which have both been detrimental to my wallet. Luckily, I have never suffered from buyer’s remorse.

5. I suppose, my blog.

Having been fired the one and only time in my life because of my online writing, and having appalled my parents and perhaps a countless slew of others, it is safe to say that my blog may justly be included in the list of five.

 

“Lieb”-erate Me

 

 

Jonas Lee over in his Imaginarium has nominated me for a Liebster Award. Since I’m generally awesome (or so people seem to think), this is not the first of such an award. Actually, I just checked, and I was nominated here, here, here, and here. Wow. I’m starting to feel a little like the literary Meryl Streep here…. Anyhoo, I must say that Jonas is pretty amazing, because he responds to my comments in a timely fashion, and I just realized that his name is actually Jonas. (Dude, I’ve been reading your blog for awhile, but it kinda just clicked now. You have an awesome name!)

Since I have received this award before, I’m beginning to run out of interesting facts to mention about myself, so I have taken the liberty of copying Jonas’ (so cool!!!!!) 11 facts about himself and editing them to fit my self. Here they are:

11 Facts:

1. I hold no Bachelor’s degree, or Master’s either. While I believe that, in some ways, further education might benefit me, I find that I am a little bit smarter and a damn bit funnier than those who suffer from such an education. That, and I don’t want school loan sharks hounding me. I already have Victoria’s Secret on my back about a little $2800 deficit.
2. I panic when anything flies near my face. Insects, rocks, baseballs…. you get the picture. The only exception is penis, because I usually initiate such things.
3. While Jonas can quote the entire movie “Clue”, I can quote the entire movie “Clueless”. A much more useful feat.
4. I, too, am super stubborn.
5. Green Lantern is NOT my favorite super hero. Unless it’s Ryan Reynolds, because he is beautiful. But Mystique is pretty frickin’ awesome. I suppose she may be considered a super villain though…
6. I would take sex over a philosophical debate anytime.
7. I am right handed, but my left boob is bigger than my right, and my left hip is going out. Fuckin’ A.
8. I almost named my daughter Ophelia. But then I remembered that I don’t have a daughter.
9. French fries magically disappear around me. As do Doritos, cheese, ramen noodles, candy… really, anything that can be put in my mouth. (Yes, that was meant to sound dirty.)
10. I,too, have astigmatism in both eyes. And have a nasty habit of wearing my contacts for four months longer than I should.
11. As a child, I never wanted to be a garbage man, but I did think being a lion would have been an excellent career choice.

Now I will answer the questions asked of me.

My 11 Questions:

1. You are able to scratch one thing off your bucket list, no matter what it entails. What is it?

I suppose I would choose to be a model in the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, because that seems like the most unlikely thing to happen from my Honey-Do List. Because I’m short, not because I’m chubby.

2. You can listen to any band/artist (live) in their time period. Who would you want to see?

Iron Maiden!!!!! Because I want to see Eddie! And because if I see them in concert now, it would kind of be like watching my Grampa on stage.

3. If you could collaborate with any artist/author/professional on a project, who would you choose?

My first choice would have been Maya Angelou, but since she decided to die before I met her, I will have to go with #2. Dolly Parton. Because the woman is brilliant. And adorably nice.

4. Would you rather live in a zombie apocalypse (Walking Dead) or an electronic apocalypse (Revolution)?

A zombie apocalypse.

5. Why to number 4?

Because who would be able to survive if we were in an electronic apocalypse and I couldn’t write on my blog?! Too, any excuse to chop people’s heads off is a good thing, even if they ARE already dead.

6. Pop Tarts or Toaster Strudel?

Toaster Strudel, because they are so flakily delicious.

7. Favorite smell?

Raw onions. And horses. Don’t judge me.

8. You can have one super power. What would you choose?

The power of seduction.

9.What is your worst habit?

Acting as though the world revolves around me. It isn’t my fault….it’s my histrionic personality.

10. What do you find to be your best quality (physically or mentally)?

My boobs and my ability to understand why idiots are idiots.

11. What keeps you from having your dreams come true?

Nothing can stop me! Except shiny things. And mermaids. And pretty men and women that smell nice.

I’m sorry, Jonas, (Jonas!! I had to say it twice!) but it is a well-known fact that I do not follow all the rules of Liebster-dom, and so I cannot ask question of people I do not post links to. Suffice to say that anyone who comments on my blog is very wise, and should be paid attention to.

The End

 

I Am Now a Mermaid

Thanks to Pouring My Art Out.

Awesomesauce. XOXO

2012 In Review- Or Otherwise Titled: I’m Semi-Awesome

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 16,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 4 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

I could not have done it without you, My Lovelys, but I’m not nearly as famous yet as I should be- so continue to rave to your friends about my little blog. XOXO

Presenting “Wordy and Rambling”

I was bored on my drive home today, so I decided to scroll through my phone and text random people I still have phone numbers for but are better left forgotten. (Clearly, I pay no heed to the “No texting while driving” law. Mind you, I make sure there are no vehicles within crashing distance of me, so if I cause an accident, it is only I who shall perish.)

Me: *Scroll scroll scroll* “Oh! Angry homicidal ex-lover! Let’s just say hey!”

(For the record, he was homicidal not toward me, but to people that made him angry, namely his at-the-time newly exed wife. He was probably one of the more well-read people I’ve known in life, but showed sociopathic tendencies- as in he cared not a bit about people’s feelings.)

This is how our text convo read:

Me: Hey

Him: Who is this? (Apparently he obeyed when I told him to delete my number.)

Me: Sparkle

Him: Oh… what’s up?

Me: Nothing. You should read my blog. (I am not above a little shameless self promotion)

Him: I did one time. I found it wordy and rambling.

OH yes. I remember exactly now why he and I would never have worked out. He was highly arrogant and hoity-toity, and found my lack of desire for money to be disturbing. The fact that I never did attend college also did not sit well with him. Continuing on.

Him: I didn’t mean to be mean; I just kept wanting you to get to the point. I got bored. It was like Sex and the City with no sex. (Clearly, he didn’t read much.) Sorry.

Me: Don’t be sorry, it’s your opinion.

It IS his opinion. I cannot help it if he is slightly retarded and has the wrong one.

I will admit that I am completely and utterly babbling most of the time.  I began this blog not knowing what my direction was going to be; should I post fiction, or my opinions, or try to write something grandly inspiring and emboldening? Should I channel my inner humor goddess and post only laugh-inducing entries? Being the Libra that I am, I was unable to make a decision, and decided to just write whatever I felt like writing. No rules, no boundaries. In the end, it has served me well. I have been asked to write a short story for charity and to be a guest writer on someone else’s blog; I have had several readers write posts about me, and I have had many people assure me that I am at least a little bit entertaining.

Let me point out- I do not understand what it is that’s entertaining one bit. The closest thing I’ve gotten to answer is that people have said my realness and unconventional musings are what make me amusing. That’s more than enough for me.

I appreciate every single one of the people who have even clicked on a link that bears my web address. I appreciate more the people who have actually read what they were presented with. Every person who has commented or pressed the “like” button deserved a booby squish, and I would cover every follower with kisses if it were humanly possible.

Well, now that I’ve rambled on so that you are sufficiently bored, there will be no more carrying on. No excessive words. No gimmicky babbling. To he who I have permanently deleted from my phone and my mind, let me just get to the point:

You can suck it, you imperious unfeeling douchebag. I pity the fact that you will not be treated to the entertaining posts I present. You are not worthy to lick the gum off of my satiny ruffled stillettos, and the sex wasn’t that good. So there. XOXO

P.S. I realize that wasn’t very mature; but I never said I was.