Protected: This Isn’t Good

DaGoddess @ 09:52

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Secret Hidden Message

DaGoddess @ 04:00

For those who know how to decode it.

It simply means, I didn't really forget

Deadliest Catch in a Crabshell*

DaGoddess @ 02:03

Lost grappling hooks, no crab, walruses, and flaring tempers ruled this last episode of Deadliest Catch.

What the hell was happening on the Time Bandit? Grappling hooks overboard? For a seasoned crew, that just seemed so unlikely. Was it a case of men showboating? Was it fatigue? No real answers, but once a hook was recovered, the point was moot. There was also some fancy footwork on deck as near disaster was averted, not once, but twice. With all the cuts to Russell one has to wonder how this is all going to work out with him. In the realm of “competition” reality shows, this would be called the loser edit. I’m still uncertain if the rumors are true, but based on editing, I’m beginning to see a pattern developing and I don’t think I like were it’s headed.

Aboard the Northwestern, things weren’t exactly peachy keen as Edgar and Jake were at odds. Bait not hung to Edgar’s liking. Grumbling to the camera when given a chance, this was a different Jake than what we’ve seen previously. But that’s to be expected. A little more experience under his belt, fatigue, and small return for a lot of hard work makes a greenhorn a mouthy boy.

Over on the Cornelia Marie, Murray’s not on the crab. Calling a meeting, he says he’s going to head north where he’s heard the fishing’s good. Will the move pay off? Only time will tell. In the meantime, the Harris brothers are getting on each other’s nerves.

With the Lisa Marie, the crew seems to be tripping over each other and when push comes to shove, well, it literally comes down to pushing and shoving. These guys are no slouch when it comes to tempers and I’m pretty sure this little boat will keep providing us with plenty to talk about.

The only boat with a steady run of good luck the last couple weeks is the Wizard. Despite their rocky start (Cap’n Keith sustaining a big ol’ knock to the noggin from his boat), they’ve consistently been hauling in red gold. However, running short on bait could cut this luck short. Or will it? A call to the Northwestern yields nothing, nothing but a tale about past assistance and unrepaid favors. Keith decides to fish for bait, pulls in enough, and then he’s off for some sleep. While Monte’s at the wheel, the boat comes upon a herd of walruses. Upon waking, Keith lights into Monte when he hears about the walrus; “they’re good luck!” With his typical fiery outburst and an abrupt “I hate you!”, he storms off to guide the boat into what he hopes is blessed waters. Note to self: if ever looking for crab, follow the walrus because, sure enough, the Wizard is so on the crab! Giant king crab is photographed by one and all. For this crew, they don’t see pinchers and shells, they see dollar signs.

Next week, a storm hits as the boats race back for their final offloads.

* Because a nutshell just won’t do.


Deadliest Reminder

DaGoddess @ 16:08

Yep, I’m reminding you to watch Deadliest Catch on the Discovery Channel tonight. Just one of my many services to humankind.

You may thank me with cash, food, and/or cars. I’m easy.

PROMPTuesday #55 – In Which Everything Changes

DaGoddess @ 00:48

“Finish the story,” she said. So I will.


  • Try to write your entry in 10 minutes. This encourages top-of-mind, primal thinking before the ego and judgmental brain kick in. Just set a timer, make your kid count to 600 slowly, whatever. It’s an honor system. And I trust you.
  • Aim for 250 words or less.
  • Please have fun. Don’t put pressure on yourself. Together, let’s rediscover the simple joy in the writing process.
  • Post your submission in the comments OR post in your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments.

“What are you doing here?” I hadn’t thought to knock.

Aaron raised his head from the table. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “We need to talk.”

That didn’t sound promising. Nobody ever says “we need to talk” when it’s good news, do they? No. They start out with “oh my God! The best thing just happened to me” and are off and running for 15 minutes of your life that you’ll never get back. So Aaron’s head on the table, his ominous words, and the way he wouldn’t look at me told me more than I figured I could handle at this point. Still, I had to ask, “about what?”

“He knows.”

“Who knows what?” Stupid question. I felt a sinking feeling coming over me.

“Rino. He heard through the grapevine that Packer’s dead and he thinks you did it.”

“Shit. This isn’t good. I knew as soon as he heard that he’d think I was responsible.” Forget that sinking feeling. Drowning would have been a preferred demise compared to what could happen to me if Rino decided I was to blame. Whether or not I pulled the trigger would matter not to him. The simple fact was, Packer, my ex-husband and Rino’s nephew, was dead as a doornail and someone would have to pay.

“Aaron, you gotta get me out of here and someplace safe.” Icy panic sliced through my gut. I could barely think of anything other than escape. There’d be no reasoning with Rino and there’d be no rest until I was far, far away from here.

Aaron just looked at me, shaking his head, rising to his feet. “It’s too late. You know he’s watching already. You know he’d always be looking for you. There’d be no peace. You’re just going to have to face him and tell him what you know.”

“But I don’t know anything! You know that!”

“Callie, it doesn’t matter what I know or what you know. It only matters what Rino thinks and right about now, I’d be getting your shit together. There isn’t much time.”

There was nothing to do. My shit was together. In fact, it felt as if it were about to come hurling out of my mouth at supersonic speed. Any normal person would be in tears at this point, but all I could think about was what a big mistake it’d been for me to even get involved with that damn man and his insane family. But no. No tears were forthcoming, just the urge to vomit.

I sat down at the table and shook my head. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be. This was all too much and I let my head fall to the table. Perhaps it was just a dream. Maybe if I closed my eyes for just a couple minutes it would all go away. I heard Aaron shuffle around the table and felt him behind me. I reached my hand up to my shoulder in hopes that he’d take it, comfort me, but instead, all I felt was cold, hard steel.


Happy Mother’s Day!

DaGoddess @ 04:00

To all the Strong Ones:

May the memories of little hands reaching out for you and you alone always warm your heart.
May the soft giggles from a tiny, round face make you smile even after that little one has grown.
May the first time you heard “mama” be with you forever.
And may the kids always remember it was you who loved them no matter what.

Mother’s Day Special – Deadliest Catch Marathon!

DaGoddess @ 00:10

Discovery Channel loves us mommies. They love us so much they’re giving us a full day of crab fishermen on the (vast) Bering Sea!

The Deadliest Catch marathon starts at 1pm Eastern.

Watch this promo and then watch five billion hours of awesomeness.


La Jolla: in the Details

DaGoddess @ 11:11

La Jolla Flowers

Flowers in La Jolla

La Jolla

The Dilemma

DaGoddess @ 04:00

Without Ambien

With Ambien

Decisions, decisions.

The Question

DaGoddess @ 03:59

Life is like a seven-ten split. The odds are nowhere near in your favor, but you throw the ball anyway.

What if you thought your destiny was in one place, or doing one thing, and then suddenly it appeared to be somewhere, or something, else?

What do you do?

Or do you do nothing?

This was the question posed to me and I had but one answer. I feel there needs to be balance and more than one answer. Big quandaries such as this have never been my strong suit. Input appreciated. My friend is counting on my help and I’m fairly useless.


Moms Night Out Wrap Up Pending

DaGoddess @ 15:00

Last night was major fun. Got to meet lots of local bloggers and other fantastic women. Took photos, of course!

Today, however, I’m not faring well. Ambien seems to have done a number on me. I woke up very ill. (I think I mentioned the nausea I’ve felt every morning since starting it.) Today was so bad, I had to cancel a second shooter job. I couldn’t move without an overwhelming sense of imminent emesis. I do NOT cancel paying jobs. Not when money’s this tight. Yet, it had to be done. That was at 7am. Still not much better.

No, it’s not the swine flu. I’ve been there, done that back in the 70s. (I’m the one person who was happy to have had it when all was said and done because I lost 40 pounds in three weeks.)

Anyhow, Moms Night Out photos and such will eventually be posted. Only after I get past this…fun stuff.

For now, let me just say that Buster’s in Seaport Village has great food (the Baja Quesadillas and the Jerk Voodoo Chicken were awesome!), friendly staff, and an awesome view.

The ladies from Seaport Village were fantastic (there’s an interview of me floating around somewhere — maybe they won’t use it [she says with great hope]) and really made us comfortable.

Deb and Mel were amazing. Just amazing.

Lauren, thank you for driving, for the absolutely terrific conversation, and the laughter.

Ongoing Discussion

DaGoddess @ 04:00

It's not the camera

This is something I hear time and time again. Not to pick on Pam or her readers, but I finally came up with the only response that makes sense:

And remember folks, it isn’t the camera taking pretty pictures, but the person using the camera. Set your camera on the counter unattended. Set flowers, babies, rainbows, and such in front of it and let it do its thing, all the while you never touch it once.

How many pretty pictures did it take?

Thanks to Aaron, the creator of What the Duck. If he wasn’t already married and wildly talented, he’d be single and talented.

Birthday wishlist item #78


Daily OM….G

DaGoddess @ 15:01

Got up, got LD ready for school. No worries.

Was thinking about a quick nap and realized I wasn’t tired enough to take one. That’s good. (Thank you, Ambien.)

Decided to work on some promo pieces for the Moms Night Out event tonight. Uh, yeah. That sounds lots easier than it ended up being. Fine. Keep working on it. Call in help.

Notice new little dog across the way has taken up an especially high pitched yap yap yap yap yap yap that’s even more irritating than it was an hour ago. Consider finding out who owns the dog and doing something not so nice to them for leaving dog alone.

Get a couple loads of laundry started. The clothes practically slouched over all on their own. Never a good sign. But laundry was started nevertheless.

Working on promo pieces again. They look okay via email, but then don’t look right in my editing software. Hmm. Try again. And again. And again. Again. Again. Againagainagainagainagain. Crap! This is weird. Considering computer possessed by some sort of ghost.

Go to switch laundry. Notice it’s pretty hot outside. Perhaps a dip in the pool and some pool exercises would help clear the head and make work a bit more pleasant.

Dog across the way is yapping even more. Even louder. I’m plugging my ears with a meat thermometer. Hurts less than the yapping.

Change into bathing suit, hunt down key to pool, grab towel, head to pool. Stick toe in water. Start cursing the genius who thought 40 degree water was a good idea. No pool for me. Ugh. Notice there’s some sort of film on my toes. Ewww!

Get back home, dip foot in basin of bleach. Pray whatever it is I got at the pool comes off. Change out of bathing suit, lament the heat, realize it’s probably for the best because there’s still much to be done.

Toes fallen off, I gingerly made my way back to the computer. I fixed my promo piece. I thought. Then I realized it sucked. Confirmation from reliable external source. Arrgh!

Yapping dog has reached new fevered pitch. Consider calling the human society. Landlord hasn’t done anything about it. Just want puppy to be happy. And owners not so much. But I’m not spiteful. No. I simply don’t like bleeding from my ears all that much.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly shrug, giving in to the fact that this is just not the way things were supposed to go today. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m alive. I have some clean laundry. I’ll take a nice cool shower. And I will meet up with some awesome ladies for a few hours of talk, laughter, food, and swag. That’s all that really matters.

As for the ghost in the machine? He’ll get his.

Memphis In Just a Few Hours

DaGoddess @ 10:00

Seats will fill, lights will start to dim. People will be standing and craning their necks, hoping for a glimpse of this person or that. “Did you see B.B.?” one will ask. “I thought I saw Pinetop over there.” whispers another.

Others are simply too nervous to move even an inch in their seats for fear that the spell will break.

Among the people in those seats are people I know. People who are up for awards. People who have breathed life into the music that moves people and causes them to dance and smile. In one category alone, I find myself pulling VERY strongly for one act, strongly for another, and wishing well to a third participant. The first act — they are my friends. They have encouraged me and my son, they have provided me genuine laughter and friendship. The next group — they have extended kindness to me personally and entertained me well. The final act — she offered me a room in her home should I choose to visit. She may not have been sober when making the offer, but she is geniunely kind and talented and she’d come through. I want for each to win, but they can’t. They’re up for the same award. Against kids. The kids are good, but they’re not as good as these three. And in my heart of hearts I want my homeboys to take the rest to school and show ’em how it’s done. Keep chanting with me: Chris and Patrick! Chris and Patrick! Chris and Patrick!

The guys took third in the iternational songwriting contest against a lot of other talented people. They won THIRD! That’s noting to poo poo. It’s a big deal. But now? Now they’re up for a bigger award and I want them to win in the biggest way! Think: Chris and Patrick Chris and Patrick Chris and Patrick.

Other people I know will be there. But my eyes are on the prize in one category. Best New Artist Debut. They belong there and they belong in best traditional and they belong nominated for top honors, too.

Listen witih me here and cheer your asses off my friends.

May have been third in a songwriting contest but it’s first in my book:
Mr. Coffee
A personal favorite:
Stop & Think About It
Everyone has somethin’ to confess
Confessin the Blues
And for my son

I love my guys. Love ’em to pieces. They email to check in on us. They mail just to say hi. They smile when we approach. They know we believe. And we do believe. I hope that belief found its way out into the universe as it should have because Chris James and Patrick Rynn are due a major win.

Win, lose, or draw, we love you, guys. You’re the best. THE BEST!


DaGoddess @ 08:34

Got my latest e-newsletter from Calumet Photo today and was suprised to find my self-portrait in the Time Frames collection. I’d forgotten I’d sent it in. Mine’s in the 1st of 3 montages. Some very interesting images in the collections. Definitely worth looking through.

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