There are no rules

I forget where I either read or watched that. Its a memorably quote though.

Do I have a plot...eeeehhh kinda I know what the ending is sorta. Usually very vaguely.

Where do I get my ideas from. The spark for a story comes from anything. Another story, stubbing a toe, cussing at the stupid cat. I do say spark because thats just what it is *What if...* is pretty much the spark. From there I have a picture in my head then it starts moving with a life all its own.

The writer me just uses words to try to describe what I see think and feel in my head.

I hate muses. Can someone PLEASE tell this muse to leave me in peace. I cannot seem to be able to read more than a paragraph of any story. No this this thing insists I continue to write. I can't play my games, nor watch a movie, nor even sleep. Tis not fair!

Gosh blast it to the depths of heck twill nay let me even swear as I must be a *LADY*

Signed a damsel in distress Oh come on already!

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

I've always loved the gowns worn at the end of that movie, its always been my favorite movie. However I may be guilty of reading too much stuff on this website....

Bob Wallace and Phil Davis are trying to get the girls to leave. Saying they will cover their escape. Betty questions what they are going to do and they respond with their half baked plan to imitate the hanes sisters act. The girls stop saying they do not want to be made a mockery of. The scene blacks out as Betty says "these dresses actually have a bit of stretch to them."

"Santa"

"Yes Rudolf"

"Don't you think you should change to something more appropriate."

"Why do you think this outfit makes me look fat."

"No no of course not the dress is very fine and all."

"Thank you dear."

"Its just that the kids have expectations and I wouldn't want to see that outfit destroyed by the chimneys."

"Oh dear you are right ill change into that old outfit."

"And the beard and pillow."

" Yes dear I know. We do this every year."

"Don't forget to remove your makeup this time. The stories still tell about your blush on cheeks."

I am scared, scared of society, scared of judgment, scared of pain, scared of emotional hurt.

I have lived through my emotional pain, first when i was 12 and found i did not fit into society. Then at 21 when i was raped, and again when I lost my mother, the only person to ever accept me fully as nothing but her child with unconditional love, at 29.