Mark your calendars....

Gooood Morning, November!!! (Sorry, couldn't help it. I had to put in one last Jack-O-Lantern!)

So check it out, everyone! In addition to our usual lineup of witty, scintilatingly funny thap gump, we've got a whole host of fun and excitement in store for you.

On Monday, November 3, we've got Bandita Anna Campbell bringing you the BATTLE OF THE HEROES. What, you may ask, is the Battle of the Heroes? Ahh, well, you'll just have to tune in and see, now won't you? :> I promise you, you won't be sorry if you start your Monday morning with the thap gump. You'll hopefully NEVER be sorry you started a Monday with us, but on November 3, you'll be overjoyed. Seriously. Promise.


You don't believe me? Jeeeesh, tough crowd. Okay, so the four great historical authors, Nicola Cornick, Bronwyn Scott, Michelle Willingham and Amanda McCabe, who will launch Harlequin's sexy e-shorts series, UNDONE!, will be Anna's guests. They'll introduce the men in their stories while Anna Campbell tries to referee a battle of the heroes! It should be huge fun and one lucky commenter will win downloads of all FOUR stories.

See? Happy now? It WILL be fun.

Oh, and if the heroes aren't good enough (really, you ARE a demanding lot, aren't you?) :> Anna Campbell is offering a new contest through her website. Her November/December contest offers THREE lucky readers the chance to win a signed copy of her new Avon release TEMPT THE DEVIL. Call by her contest page for details: http://www.annacampbell.info/contest.html


On November 5, Bandita Beth Andrews will be bringing you Silhouette Desire author Tessa Radley. She'll be talking about her Saxon Brides series and you won't want to miss it. Woooohooooo!

On November 6 Bandita Aunty Cindy (Loucinda McGary) will be hosting her fellow Sourcebooks author, the effervescent Robin Kaye. She'll be joining us to talk about her forthcoming debut Sourcebooks release, Romeo, Romeo. This one's going to be a must read, I can tell you! First in a trilogy about domestic gods, you'll have to get in line to see what happens next...and who wins a copy!


On November 7 Bandita Nancy Northcott will bring you the ever-popular Gina Robinson. She'll be guesting with us to discuss her forthcoming book Spy Candy, the story of a would-be Bond girl whose trip to a fantasy spy camp lands her in danger, intrigue, and love.

On November 9, Bandita Nancy Northcott will bring us another fabulous guest, Debby Giusti. This wonderful Steeple Hill Love Inspired Suspense author will discuss the road to publication and her fourth release, the first in her Magnolia Medical series, Countdown to Death. Here's a taste: When five people in a small town contract a deadly disease, a medical researcher races the clock to find a cure, with the help of a handsome, possibly dangerous recluse.

Check out Bandita Nancy's cool contest on her website, http://www.nancynorthcott.com/! This the first contest Nancy's offered and is open to her newsletter subscribers. The writer prize is a bundle of useful books--Stephen King's ON WRITING, Jane Yolen's TAKE JOY, Martin Brice's A CHRONICLE HISTORY OF FORTS AND FORTRESSES, and Daniel Pool's WHAT JANE AUSTEN ATE AND CHARLES DICKENS KNEW, along with a decorative bookmark.

The reader prize is a blue stuffed dragon, half a dozen mass market novels in various genres (none by her personal friends because she finds picking among their books impossible), and two decorative bookmarks. Hie thee to Nancy's website and enter!!

On November 12 Bandita Aunty Cindy (Loucinda McGary) will be drawing another wonderful new Sourcebooks author, Cheryl Brooks, into the Lair. The second book in her sci-fi-fantasy series, Warrior, is out in October. Check in on the twelfth for another giveaway!

On November 17 Golden Leaf winning Bandita Christie Kelley will host an author with a split personality. B.H. Dark, a top Samhain author, will be with us. In case you're actually WORRIED about the split personality thing, don't. B.H.Dark is really the writing team of Kathy Love and Julie Cohen! Come make them both welcome.

If you're one of our writer pals amongst the Bandita Buddies, make sure you've got the final polish going on your Golden Heart Entries. Intent to enter and fees for same are due into RWA in Houston on November 17. Whooo-hoooo! Go Banditas! Go Bandita Buddies!!

Oh, and lest you worry that December cannot possibly hold a candle to the excitement we have in store in November, check out December 1! *Drum Roll Please!* We're thrilled to welcome back a Lair favourite, NYT best-selling author Eloisa James. Wooohoooo! Be sure to visit - we have a fun day in store for you all, as Eloisa celebrates the launch of her upcoming book in the Desperate Duchesses' series "When the Duke Returns." She'll be bringing Villier and as if that wasn't prize enough, there will be books galore!

And so the Golden Heart-ers don't feel lonely, you potential Rita Candidates need to get your bums in gear too. Fees and intent to enter are due into RWA in Houston on December 1!Source URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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Any Sex This Year?

I just awoke around three O'clock in the morning. I had a nightmare. It was strange and frightening actually. I was in an old run down theater with a woman and a man and we walked down a long hall to where the floor finally sloped up to the ceiling. We stood for a minute, staring at this strange construction, turned and went back the other way. Doors lined both sides of the corridor, and when we reached the end of it, it was terminated by a door.

We passed through this door into a similar corridor. This one was shorter with fewer doors lining the walls. This one also ended with a door with no knob. That was when the woman tried one of the doors against the wall, finding it locked, but unleashing an inhuman howl from the other side. In the center of the door was a mail slot, through which I peeped in and could see nothing but black. But I could feel a rushing wind as something approached rapidly, and when I did let go and step back, something large crashed into the door, causing it to tremble violently.

Suddenly, more howls were heard, causing the blood to freeze in my veins. Then, all of the knobs on the doors turned and rattled angrily as whatever they were, were suddenly alerted of our presence. The man with us dashed to the door through which we came and I ran behind him, leaving the woman trailing behind us. The man slipped through the door and attempted to shut if fast behind him, but I had reached it and drove a leg into the threshold up to my thigh. I yanked the door from him and held it open for the woman to race through and just as she did, the door at the end of the hall tore open.

The thing that came though it was covered with blue hair, tall and gangly with long talons and teeth. It stepped out, looked about and noticed me at the door, standing in mute horror. It closed the distance between us before I could slip through the door and close it. It grabbed the frame in both hands, holding the door open, mouth agape in an obscenely wide grin. I drove my foot into its chest, knocking it back from the door and onto the floor, then slammed the door shut and locked it.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I awoke, still hearing the howls of the creatures and the rattling of doorknobs. FUCK ME. I looked around in the dark and found everyone else fast asleep. No matter what, after that shit, I could not find sleep. My body refused to return to the nether land of slumber. I thought to give up, get up and take a much needed shower. But no, I didn't want to get out of bed. If I did get up, I might never go back to sleep, which would make me miserable tomorrow. I thought to read, but my glasses was in my bag under the bed. So I put on my MP3 player and threw the blanket over my head. It was of one of my recorded therapy sessions.

I awoke at the end of the recorded session. It had finished at I was awake to the lights of the dorm. Meaning it was past Six AM. People were getting ready and I could not get up. Once again, the TRAMADOL doing its magic. I worked my way into a sitting up position, and set up my laptop for work. I emailed and wrote poetry and haiku and looked for quotations and researched my article.

It was soon time for me to head to my Doctor. The Incredible Dr. A. That's what I should call him from now on. The man told me that as long as I took that damn COLCHICINE the pain of my gout would go away, and damnit it's gone. Even the TRAMADOL is dealing with the pain in my shoulder. I'm feeling good for a change. I hit the Way and stop off at a Starbucks before going to see the Doc.

He checks my blood pressure and gives me a clean bill of health. I'm fine except that I'm overweight. This I'm aware of I just wonder how I'm going to lose the weight. "Just exercise," he says. Yeah, I have to start that up again. I've stopped over the week. "And eat some brocoli and brussel sprouts. They're good for you. Even though you may not like brussel sprouts." I happen to like brussel sprouts in butter sauce. I think about it for a moment until the thought bubble bursts. I'm homeless. When was the last time that I had control over what I ate? My meals are planned by others or made a catastrophe by me. "Things look good," he says. "Since you did so well and took your medicine we won't weigh you today." He opens a desk drawer at his lower right. "But now it's time for a blood test." He slaps the form down on the desk. He looks back at me, another form in his hand. "Have you had any sex this year?" Oh come on, doc. The homeless life is a celibate one. He sits up and begins filling out the form. He puts an x in the box to test my testosterone level. Hmmmm

I shoot out from my Doc's to go to Madison Starbucks where I see Electra who gives me the immediate task of watching her homeless bag as she walks about the city without it's weight on her back. I continue to research my article, whipping myself up into a frenzy, getting it the fuck done as soon as I got the seed for the article. I built the outline quickly and with very little pain.

When Electra finally came back for her bag, I was done with the outline. With a pause I would write the article.

I am proud of myself. I had beat the deadline by an entire week almost once more.

I go to the library.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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Private. Keep Out!

I stared at the paper for a few minutes until I see what I'm going to talk about as I sit on the edge of my bed. Privacy. It's been four or five years since I've had any. The sweet nectar of privacy. When my wife left me I had tons of privacy. Although I think I was pushing my chemically imbalanced limit at that time. I was pounding down Jack Daniels like it was water. It sent me to the hospital with heart failure. Chain smoking didn't help either.

Then my brother moved in, and that spelled the end of my privacy. That spelled the end of my laying around in my apartment on the couch, naked, watching television, with a plate of food on my belly. It spelled the end of my bringing foreign women home and banging away all night, or as much as a drunk can. It spelled the end of a great many things.

When I lost my apartment, it spelled the beginning of my using public restrooms, public bathrooms to wash up, and sleeping on the streets. Two years at the Hotel, with Sith Lord and Mike meant people around even when I lived on the streets. When it became too cold to sleep outside any longer, and I did my stint inside Port Authority, and Penn Station, I had Electra there as a close companion. Sleeping all night in a Starbucks or a waiting area was not private.

And now I'm living with twenty men, and there is still no privacy. I have to admit that just the thought of getting my own place has made me excited. I've spent a year thinking about it, planning on it, being an exemplary inmate in the Box. The thought of privacy, something that I took for granted at one time, is heady.

Just the thought of using a toilet not shared by scores of people, by hundreds of people, is a sobering thought. You wonder just how tough your ass has become to disease and infection. Even if I move into a room, it would be a room of my own. SRO means SRO, Single Room Occupancy. That is fine by me. As long as it has a door and a lock, you've got my attention.

That's very little to ask for, but it's so hard to attain in the city. The city where every penny has to be pinched because things cost so much here. You have to be rich to move about freely, buying this and that. That's why the homeless get along so well in the city, and that's because they don't want nothing. In the summer months, all they want is a bench or a sidewalk without a lot of pedestrian traffic, and they are in heaven.

But in the winter, they pay a mean toll. The winters are brutal sometimes in New York. Sometimes there are Noreasters, and brisk, blistering cold weather. But there's still hope yet. With the enormous greenhouse emissions from the increased population, the greenhouse effect is starting to take a hold, giving New York the mildest winters on the Northeast coast. Ha ha ha. I learned that from one of the articles that I researched. But with this being said, there still may be some hope for the homeless from freezing this year.

Bloomberg has no real plan for these people. He has no real idea what the homeless go through. All he sees is a blight on the streets of his fair city. His master plan for the homeless in the cold? To have the police round them up, and give them only two options. One, a drop in center or two, jail. Now this is what I wish: for fucking Bloomberg to spend a night in a drop in center, just once. He'd probably choose jail. Drop in centers are the biggest joke here in the city. They are the living pits of Hell.

Be that as it may I wobble on the edge of my bed, the TRAMADOL taking effect. I'll retire early again tonight. I put away my baby and crawl into bed, ready for another night's sleep.

I'll deal with all of tomorrows troubles tomorrow.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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Twins Tickets Posted!

Ok, so we all know the World Series just ended and unfortunately we didn't make it this year. BUT there's always next year!! And luckily for all our Twins Fans, we've just posted the majority of our Twins tickets for the 2009 season! So if there's a game you know you want to attend, now is the best time to get your tickets, while our availability is at it's best!!
Source URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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No Place Like Halloweeeeeeeeen....

By Jeanne Adams

The holiday season begins at my house on October first. Halloween is my absolute favorite holiday and always has been. Given that, I get to start in September these days, which is when I put up the Halloween decorations. Every room gets something, even the half-bath.

For one month, I'm worse than those little old ladies you see with 4000 Santas out all year long.

From September 30th on, I get to read Halloween books to my kids without any remorse (I do it all year long, by the way, I just get to do it guilt-free for the months of September and October) and we get at least one new one every year.

We start planning the outdoor decorations in September and begin issuing the invites for the annual Ad(d)ams Family Halloween Party - a wickedly fun event where the adults get to dress up and say BOO! Of course, if you insist on coming sans costume, you have to bring something to eat. I get about half and half every year. Grins. We had a Cavalier, a Catholic Schoolgirl, an Elfin Warrior and a Karate Master this year along with assorted other characters. It was great fun!

But back to the books...The favorite new book this year is one by Carl Reiner, you know him from all the way back on the Dick Van Dyke show and from his later work in Oceans Eleven. The book is called Tell Me a Scary Story...But Not Too Scary. It's marvelous! I've read it to my youngest about six times per night for the past four or five nights. We've even read it during the day sometimes too. Bwah-ha-ha!!!

Past favorites have included The ABC's of Halloween, The Runaway Pumpkin, and A Very Brave Witch. You've never heard anything funnier than a four year old yelling, as you read, "RUNAWAY PUMPKIN!!"

Then there's the costumes for the kids. We discuss this at length from Labor Day on. This year we have a Football Player (Miami Dolphins, for some unknowable reason) and IronMan.

For the Halloween party, my darling hubby and I were Biker Trailer Trash. There were people who arrived at my door who did not recognize me. I guess I'm glad about that, since I pulled off the trailer trash thing pretty well!

I put the picture down below. What do you think?

And then there's the pumpkins. Gosh I love carving pumpkins. What is not to love about those fabulous orange canvases? There doesn't seem to be anything you can't carve into a pumpkin. From ghosts to vultures to bad-ass bikers, you can create a pumpkin tribute. One of my "Bucket List" items is to get to the famous Keene, NH Pumpkin Festival. It's one of the world's largest pumpkin festivals. This year's count was 22, 596 carved pumpkins. Check it out at http://www.pumpkinfestival.org/

The other fun thing is the Life Is Good Pumpkin Festivals. Wow are they delightful! Life is Good partners with a local charity to set up twelve festivals scattered in various parts of the country and the classic Life Is Good style t-shirts are in full swing.

There's always a specially designed Festival shirt. Really cool! http://www.lifeisgood.com/festivals/ They also have cool Halloween gear if you want style without costume! http://www.lifeisgood.com/category/search-by-interest/fall-halloween.aspx

And oh...the candy. Considering we've had our Halloween party already and there's still cake, pie, brownies and we're making cupcakes today (Halloween), I probably should be doing at least three hours on the exercise bike per day for the next ten weeks.

Then again, I also bought five bags of candy. I'll give 'em out too. Really. I will. *VEG*

I always buy the candy I like, don't you? This is just in case I don't give it all away to the mini-goblins then I'll have good stuff around. I hate to have leftovers of candy that I won't eat. *shudder* Now that's scary. Besides, it hurts my Scotch soul to throw anything away, especially candy!

(By the way, the picture at the left is our pumpkin effort this year...)

As to candy, my favorites are malted milk balls, tootsie roll pops and tootsie rolls. Jeez, they make me drool. I've got to stay away from the blinking things until tomorrow night. Cripes. It's like they call to me.

....Jeanne....we're heeeeeerrrrreeeeee....we're deliiiiiciousssssss....

Scary. Verrrrry Scary.

So, are you dressing up this Halloween? What about your kids, if you have any?

When you shed that "normal" face of yours, whose face are you going to assume?

What about candy? What's your favorite? Mars Bars? Snickers? Tootsie Rolls? What kind of candy do you despise?

Last but not least, any good Halloween books to recommend?

Source URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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Hold On Baby

Snap Quiz: What do you do if you can't hold on?

Answer: Baby, you tie your ankle with the end of the rope and then let go.

Don't let life get you down, any of you. Times are tough and are going to get tougher and soon the punches will begin to fly, and I can promise you, you can only duck and block so many. All good fighters say, don't let a punch land on you, but if one does, be able to take one.

There's nothing wrong with being knocked down, there's no shame in even being knocked out. The shame is in if you don't stand up right afterward its over. Things turn dark and your options can dwindle, but that doesn't mean shit. Because everything, no matter how bad, is survivable.

There's no need to go into the rec room of your expensive home and open the gun box and tear through your home and family because there is no other alternative to the streets. The streets will not kill or finish you. It will make you harder, tougher, but not dead.

I worried about the streets. I worried about the future. I plain worried. But in my experience, things answer themselves.

With that being said I got up late this morning, by the insistence of one of my roommates, and had to call a forklift to get me out of bed. I seemed to have managed. The TRAMADOL at night is very strong. It had knocked me out so early that the lights weren't even turned out before I was unconscious.

I headed out and downtown to Wall Street and crossed over to the West side where the Southstreet Seaport was. It had been a very long time since I was there, and it was amazing how very little had changed. The walk was pretty long and halfway through it I could feel the stirrings of gas to pass. Panic crashed together with fear as I realized that it was not gas at all, but something more, with substance. I pinched my ass cheeks together and headed to the piers. Now let me describe the seaport. A big, covered pier wherein there is a shopping mall. This was good. Every mall has a public restroom.

But I also felt control of the situation, as I stood there, snapping away with my camera. I was not going to go to the bathroom until I got the pictures for my article, due today. This is no fun. Today is the coldest day ever in New York, primarily because of the blustery wind. The wind, which whips around like a naked blade, slicing through clothing. Shit!

Still, I get my pictures, and then raced upstairs into the seaport. I find and follow the familiar symbols of the man and woman together, around corners and shops until I reach the men's room. Once there, I see a long line of stalls, closed, except for three. A gentleman on the other end of the bathroom, after seeing me, dove into one, leaving me with two. That's fine. I went to the first one, and did my check of the toilet tissue and found that with two dispensers there was no music roll.

Fine, that left me with one more stall. But this one would not close, for the life of me, I could not get the door to close shut. I was about to put my all into it but that's he last thing that I need, for the damn door to lock shut and leave me with the option of sliding under the bottom to get out. That would not be fun. Upon leaving the last stall, a user emerged from one clear across the line. I dashed towards it and dove in, like the man that I met earlier. I need not tell you what happened next.

Afterward, still stunned by the actual act of having to use the bathroom, since I had done so this morning and wondered what else did I have within me, I headed back, across the frigid landscape of lower Manhattan. Yes, it was indeed cold out, but in the sun it was still warm. This is what is crazy fall weather.

I went back to the Box for a brief meeting and then grabbed my hat and headed out again. This time to the library, I checked to see if my therapist wanted to have my session on Friday via email, and lo and behold, yes she did. I'll have to deal with her again. She's getting warmer and less combative as we go along, perhaps she reads my frustration with her. She probably also knows that I can drop her at anytime and find another therapist. Probably no big deal for her, she'll still get paid and still get billable time, but her prestige might be hurt. Who wants to be a therapist that chases away patients?

Remember, when you get to the end of your rope....

Stay strong.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/
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