Hubby of the year!

I enjoy public speaking. Am I weird? No, don't answer that!
When I realized this speaking engagement, set up a few weeks ago, was right on top of me, my first thought wasn't, "Oh, no. How the hell am I going to be comfortable in the car all the way to RI? Maybe I should cancel." or "How am I going to sit on my sore tuccas all day? Maybe I should cancel." It was, "Oh, no! I hope I can go, because I don't want to miss the fun!"

Many of us have wonderful husband's but mine deserves some kind of award. Not only for putting up with me (embarrassed grin) but also for supporting my hopes and dreams any way he can. Mr. Ash drove me all the way to RI, and hung out at the library, reading the latest Dan Brown novel on his Kindle. The lovely ladies of RI welcomed him to join us for lunch, and he did.

Not "classically handsome" but wildly attractive to me--even after all these years, I'm proud to "show him off" any time my friends meet him. How did I get so lucky? And even though he never said word one about my figure, I wanted him to feel about me the same way I feel about him whenever I look his way and he's unaware. I can honestly say we're living our HEA.

So, yup, I'm still bruised and healing, but feeling better and happy about my decision to improve myself, albeit taking the drastic route.

Ash

Time to talk about something different

I was blogging about my surgery and hoping I didn't sound like Aunt Martha talking about her gallstones. As it turns out, maybe I've exhausted that subject.

Yesterday I emailed my daughter about my progress since she had asked and I (mistakenly) thought she really wanted to know! I told her about the blackraspberry-like bruise, the bleeding that had stopped and started again, the pain, and well, she emailed me back and said, "Mom, I was eating as I read that." LOL. I guess that'll teach her to be honest next time.

Anyway, moving on to more pertinent things. I've passed the half-way point in my second novel in the Strange Neighbor series. As it turns out, I'm able to write despite my "delicate condition." In fact, it's a nice distraction.

So, my editor wanted me to come up with alternative titles for this new book over the weekend. Now, keep in mind it's about a werewolf and I was on pain medication. I started off with "normal" sounding stuff, but as she encouraged me to keep going, the ideas degenerated from the sublime to the silly, to the ridiculous. My last title was "Well, At Least He's Monogamous."

LOL! Come to think of it, since I write comedy, that might just fly!

3 days out

The continued adventures of Ash--2nd in the 'Lipo Sucks' episodes
It took three days before I stopped feeling like hell had chewed me up and spit me out. I'm a baby when it comes to pain. Yes, I know I have a big, honkin' tattoo, but it took three separate sittings and my artist sent me home each time a began to cry. (Not good for business apparently.)

I knew it would hurt (a little) but if you're a baby like me, you'd better think carefully before you sign up for this. A little pain to some people is a lot to me. I can't even stub my toe without wanting to send the chair that attacked me hurtling through a window.

So, that said, I'm feelin somewhat better today. Okay, I'm still on Percocet, which is probably the only reason I'm able to sit here and type. This is the first day I didn't want to yelp each time my hubby changed my dressings. It's a good thing I love him and vice versa. I even washed my hair. Now I feel...well, not like a million bucks, but maybe a fifty and change.

Oh, yeah. I caught a glimpse of one of my bruises today. You know what a blackberry looks like? (Not the electronic kind.) Well I have one growing above the pad that covers the bandage on my abdomen.

I can't wait for the second step in this process...supposedly in a week, I'll be ready to graduate to the suit that I can pull up by myself instead of something my hubby has to hook and zipper me into. My drains will be taken out...by the way, I'm not bleeding out anymore. That's always a good sign. Maybe I'll even be able to wear jeans again instead of scrubs!

Woo Hoo! Can't wait.

Ash

1 day post fat removal

Hi everyone,

I made it through my lypectomy. Wasn't so sure about that when I woke up in recovery. I was on the table for 4 hours and came to feeling like a magician had sawed me in half with a dull blade. But here I am...home and "relatively comfortable" as long as I don't try to sit, stand, or lie down--and forget about bending over! I'm wrapped up like a burrito from just under my boobs to above the knees.

Funny surprise...I knew they might put in a drain, but drains have changed since I went to nursing school in the early 80's. I expected to see the wide wick. Instead I saw two dangling 3 inch oval plastic sacs with a thin plastic tubing trickling blood into them. I had to ask if I had the right operation! LOL.

Okay, that's all for today. I still need to take it easy. That means hubby gets to do the housework for a while. (grin)

Ash

Big week!

Good morning all,

It's only 6 a.m. and already I have a list of things to do as long as my 8 hour day and then some.

I'm having surgery on Thursday. Nothing major or earth shattering. In fact, it's elective. I'm getting Liposuction. I didn't know if I'd share it publicly or not, but as many of you know by now, I have no pride. LOL.

Seriously though... I have reached the stage of feeling a little "deformed" because of certain fat deposits. It's been affecting my self-esteem for quite a while and even though my wonderful husband says it doesn't bother him, it bothers ME. I avoid letting him see me in my birthday suit, and I won't wear a bathing suit in public. In short, I feel like crap about my body.

So, never one to settle, I decided to do something about it. For those who preach caution, don't worry. I did my homework, researched the various doctors in my area and found someone board certified with loads of experience in exactly what I'm having done. I went to a seminar she gave and looked at a whole album full of before and after pictures with her. She remembered each patient and what she did for them. I was impressed.

So, I go in first thing Thursday morning. It will be done in a full service hospital, and I should be home that afternoon or evening. I've decided to share my journey with you over the next few weeks (or months, depending on recovery time.)
I hope you'll support my decision, and if not...just know that I think I'm going to feel better about myself and improve my quality of life in the long run.

Ash

Excerpt time!

First scene from my latest release, Oh My God

What happens when a Greek God has amnesia--especially Dionysus, the biggest bad boy of Mount Olympus?

The Greek God of wine, women, and party, falls off a balcony and lands on his head during Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Now he has amnesia and has to rely on witnesses to tell him about his life. All he knows is that they call him ‘Big D,’ and he’s a party animal who drinks too much and ought to give up alcohol for Lent.

Mandy and Brandy flashed Dionysus right before he fell and feel partially responsible for his amnesia. They’re nice enough to take him to an AA meeting, and then back to their homes until he recovers his memory. Fortunately, they’re not too nice to be naughty. They all agree that replacing a bad habit with a healthy one is the key to sobriety, and what could be healthier than sex? Will he come between friends before they know who he is? Will Zeus separate all of them, forever?



Chapter One

“Hello, everyone. I can’t remember my name, but I think I’m an alcoholic.”

The room fell silent. A few titters began in the back, then the chuckles spread and before I knew it, the whole room was guffawing.

“You came to the right place, Mister!” yelled a listener from the back of the room.

I felt my cheeks heating. They must be turning red. Well, fine, at least they’d match my eyes.

The gorgeous young women who’d taken me to this AA meeting slapped their luscious thighs and laughed out loud with the rest of them. If it wasn’t for their sex appeal, I’d have stood up and walked out. How humiliating!

I pictured their creamy skin under their jeans. The brunette with big brown eyes would have a bikini tan. The other, an auburn redhead with long, spiral curls, would probably be a sunscreen wearer, but I loved fair complexions, too. In fact, I enjoyed pretty much everything about women. It’s odd how I knew that about myself but little else since the amnesia.

I elbowed the pretty brunette on my right. “Hey, I came here to get help and everybody’s laughing at me.”

The young woman, Brandy she said her name was, patted me on the knee and said with a southern drawl, “It’s all right, honey. We understand. We’re laughin’ with you.”

“But I’m not laughing.”

“Well you should, darlin’. When you’re feelin’ better, you’ll be tellin’ your story to the world, and you’ll be laughin’ too.”

The meeting resumed but with my hangover, I couldn’t concentrate on what the speakers said. Yet, despite my pounding headache and roiling stomach, I could concentrate on Brandy and Mandy’s thighs.

I sensed a passionate nature in both of the women.

Mandy, the redhead, seemed like the quiet type. Like a swan though, she had all kinds of energy underneath the surface.

Brandy liked to touch. I loved touchers. Every chance she got she put a hand on my arm or my leg. Now if I can just get her to zero in on the space between them. My jeans grew tighter as I imagined it.

Mandy wagged her top leg continuously, and I could barely keep my eyes off her shapely ankle, graced by a rhinestone anklet. The afternoon light refracted sparkles from it as if fairy dust were being sprinkled all around our legs and feet. Her t-shirt spoke volumes in glitzy rhinestones too. They spelled out ‘Half Naughty Half Nice. Which half do you want?’ over her ample breasts. I wanted both halves in my mouth, thank you.

You’ve gotta love New Orleans. Short skirts, brilliant colours, and lots of glitz were the preferred attire in the French Quarter, especially at Carnival time. That must have been why I was here. Somehow, I just knew I never missed a good party.

Had I lived here for years? Maybe I was just a tourist. Why oh why hadn’t I had some kind of ID on me when I fell off that balcony and onto my head last night at Mardi Gras?

The girls, Brandy and Mandy, said I had been leaning over the balcony trying to throw them some beads when they’d flashed their tits at me. They said I must have been pretty drunk because I’d almost fallen off the balcony when a flat-chested girl flashed, but the two of them showing their voluptuous gifts in unison must have been too much. I’d tumbled over the wrought iron railing and landed, bam, right on my head.

Fortunately, for me, they’d felt guilty and driven me to the hospital when I’d come to. They’d stayed until the emergency room had kicked me out, then they’d brought me here.

I couldn’t wait until the meeting ended. I wanted to take the two of them to a private place to make out. Who was I kidding? I wanted to screw them silly. Maybe Armstrong Park… Now how did I remember the name of a park in New Orleans, but I couldn’t come up with my own name? Oh, man, I needed a drink.

Shit. Today was Ash Wednesday. Nine out of every ten people in the meeting hall had soot on their foreheads. The girls wanted to give up liquor for Lent. They said they did it every year and thought it would be a good idea if I did, too. Maybe they were right.

Maybe I was a Catholic. Everyone else seemed to be. And since I didn’t know about the other bad habits I had, I’d have to give up alcohol, although I sensed I may have lots of bad habits.

Oh, thank Zeus. The meeting was almost over. We just needed to stand in a circle and hold hands. I could do that.

Mandy’s hands were warm and dry. Brandy’s were hot and sweaty, and she’d been flirting with me. Oh, yeah, she was ready to roll. Suddenly, everyone began to recite the Lord’s Prayer.

“Our Father, who art on Mount Olymp…” Hey, they had a different version. Oh, well, I’d just listen to theirs and maybe next time I could fake it…

I vow...

To blog at least three times a week from now on.

It seems possible. Daunting, but possible. I look at my life and say, "How can I possibly come up with something to talk about that often? I'm a boring person!"
LOL. Friends have told me I'm wrong about that. So, I promise to try harder from now on.

Now, what I need from you are your ideas! What would make this a blog one you'd like to visit? Do you need witty reparte? I can be witty. Do you want an account of my journey as a writer? I can share my journey. Do you want to know what I wear to bed at night? No question is too personal. I'll even tell you if I've cheated on my diet each day if you like. LOL.

So, let me know what floats your boat. Pictures? Funny stories? The untold truth?
Or something different each day so you never know what to expect?

I can't wait to get you're input! And to thank you, anyone who wants some bookmarks and or postcards from me...just email me after leaving your comment. ash@ashlynchase.com is my email addy.

Thanks so much!!!

Ash