Just Wait ‘Til My Daughter Gets Home!

Oh man I am in BIG trouble. Big. Huge. I’ve done it now.

My teenage daughter had lost the use of her cell phone (THAT’s a whole ‘nother story). But, as with many privilege-revoking consequences, I realized I really should have thought this one through. The fact is, I LIKE that she text-messages me when she gets test grades during the day or just to ask me how my day’s going. I LIKE that she can call me or text me when she’s ready to be picked up from practice or that I can text her when I pull into the school’s driveway so I don’t wait for her forever.

So, this morning when she was getting ready to leave for school, I told her she could have her phone back. I ran up to my bedroom to retrieve it from my nightstand drawer, and IT WASN’T THERE. She could see the bus coming up the hill to our house, so she had to go. I told her I’d have it for her later.

I CAN’T FIND THE STUPID THING. What in God’s name did I do with it?? Losing a teen’s cell phone? What mom worth her salt does such a thing?

Until Next Time (I’ll be praying to St. Anthony)

Joan

(c) copyright 2008 Joan McCue All Rights Reserved

Since I’m on a Power Trip . . .

My last post on Friday was about the power of positive thinking–today, I want to talk about a different kind of power, or more accurately, the lack thereof.  Last night was a typical Sunday night at my house.  The husband and the kids and I were all in the family room watching TV, using the computer, etc. when BAM! the lights went out.

This happens fairly frequently, and, more often than not, the electricity comes right back on within a few minutes, the outage lasting only long enough to make it necessary to reset the 58 clocks we have in our house.  Not this time.

I scrounged in the kitchen for some candles and brought them into the family room, but the competing fragance combinations were a bit much.  Then, I remembered that upstairs in the guest room I had one of those candle gardens, I think they were called–you know the plate with different size pillars arranged on it?  The best part was, I was pretty sure the candles were unscented.

I set the candle garden in the fireplace and lit it up and it created such a nice, warm, homey glow.  The house was so quiet without the omnipresent white noise hum of the computer, the stereo, the lights and the refrigerator.  It was peaceful, and my family actually talked instead of just occupying the same space.

The lights came back on after a couple of hours, and we went back to business as usual.  However, this afternoon, at about 4:00, with a steady, raw, gloomy drizzle falling outside, I lit the candle garden again.  Why wait for the lights to go out again before enjoying the quiet power of a flickering candle?

Until Next Time,

Joan

(c) Joan McCue 2008 All Rights Reserved

The Power of Positive Thinking

I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week and have fallen out of the good routine I’d established for marketing myself as a writer. The weather isn’t helping–gray, gray and grayer today. However, I vowed to get back on the horse and started my day by visiting one of my favorite online spots, Deb Ng’s Freelance Writing Jobs site.

Low and behold, one of the posts there and the subsequent comments are all about the power of positive thinking when we writers hit a low spot in our careers. One quote that one of the commentators offered up really hit home. It goes like this: “Success is not playing the game with a perfectly dealt hand. Success is make the best of a poor hand.”

I certainly haven’t been dealt a poor hand; I have many blessings in my life, but when we hit a stretch when the assignments aren’t exactly rolling in but the bills are, it can be hard to sit in front of that keyboard everyday or pick up the phone to follow up on or generate new leads. But, ya gotta do what ya gotta do and sometimes, just one email or one phone call is all it takes.

Until Next Time,

Joan

(c) Joan McCue 2008 All Rights Reserved

On New York’s Governor Crossing the Line

I don’t usually touch the topic of politics, but it’s been impossible to open a paper or turn on the TV or radio and not see or hear something about the now infamous “Client 9″ and his philandering ways. I just shake my head in disgust.

I’d like to focus on his wife, though. I mentioned to a group of ladies I had lunch with last week that I couldn’t believe she stood next to him, appearing anyway, to be supporting him as he issued his vague apology and then again when he announced his resignation. Much to my surprise, most of my companions remarked that they’d have stood next to him too if they stood to get half his fortune. Huh?? Sorry, but my dignity can’t be bought and, what message did she send to her daughters?

One person did view it from a slightly different angle, that, while it didn’t completely persuade me, it at least made me pause. She said that on their wedding day, Mrs. Spitzer stood up before God and her family and vowed to remain true “for better or for worse,” and this episode merely represented the worse part. But, we’re not talking about financial ruin, illness, injury or other tough times here. What happens when one spouse breaks the vows of marriage–is the other still bound to keep up their end of the deal?

To me, Elliott Spitzer crossed the line in the worst possible way.

Until Next Time,

Joan

(c) 2008 All Rights Reserved

Come Cross the Line with Me

Welcome to my little corner of the world wide web, where I hope to entertain you with commentary on my life as a wife, mom and freelance writer. First, a little about the name of my blog and its URL. I’m a writer by trade and meticulous (okay, neurotic) about grammar and style, so I like to make sure all my “i”s are dotted and “t”s are crossed; hence, crossinganddotting@wordpress.com.

In addition to being a stickler for sentence structure and syntax (and I enjoy alliteration, too) I apparently have a knack for . . .

Crossing the Line.

If I had a dollar for every time someone has said to me, “no one has ever asked that before,” I’d be blogging from my oceanfront deck on my own private island. I don’t consider myself to be unreasonable; in fact I hate confrontation and do my level best to avoid it. However, I also have a very low tolerance for political correct-ness, and I am the first to admit that diplomacy is not one of my strong suits. So, something as simple as commenting on how much homework my middle schooler has gets me in hot water, as does questioning why 200 6th graders with little or no sailing experience are boarding a schooner for a day without life jackets. You get the idea.

Anyway, thank you for visiting, and whether you’re a kindred spirit who will jump over that line with me without a second thought, or a more even-keeled sort who will watch my antics from the safe side of the line, I hope you enjoy what I have to say, and won’t be afraid to engage. Just be sure not to dangle any participles or misplace your modifiers. Like the bumper sticker my teenager sent me for my Facebook page says, “If you use bad grammar, I will judge you.”

Until next time,

Joan

(c) 2008 All Rights Reserved