…Kiss me once again–it’s been a long, long, time. Remember that song? No, of course you don’t. It’s old. Like me. Snort. However, it’s been a long, long time since I blogged and that’s because not only am I a lazy biotch and using Twitter to keep myself abreast of the Intrawebs happenings in 140 characters or less, but because my life has been INSANE lately.

So–here’s what’s been goin’ down in random fashion as it pops into my head

First–my people. They’re on a mission to make me want to cut myself. Nothing’s changed. They fight. I mediate. They fight some more. I look up ways to end my pain and suffering without being caught by the ubersharp coppers here in TX. No, I’m kidding. I love my parents. I just wish I could love them from Siberia and with all my hair in tact

My kid–he graduated in June. It was BLISS. My BFF’s came in support. We rallied. They held my hand as I sobbed uncontrollably and saw my life flash before my eyes in all it’s pretty colors of the rainbow. He still hasn’t decided what he’s going to do with his life. But he has a whip, my friends. A cute little Kia that I’ve assured him has plenty of room for a Bunson burner and a pillow if he doesn’t get some purpose–like soon:) Ain’t he handsome?

OMG–I got another gig (no, not senior stripping at Just A Little Fluffy ). Those nutty people at Berkley bought three more books from me. I know! I said the same thing yer thinkin’. So I won’t tempt the pub gods any further by snarking their taste in writers. Let’s just say this–I’m so jazzed that this trio of books sold I don’t know what to do with myself. The first, Suck It Up, Princess (snarf), is loosely based on my divorce experience. I’ll never tell what’s real and what’s not, except to say that most of it’s real with some embellishment. LOLLOL. The series is based on ex-trophy wives (which I’m not really because I wasn’t that much younger than the ex, but we joke about anyway) who’ve gotten a little long in ze tooth and have been traded in for newer, blonder, booby-licious-er models. Something I’m completely unfamiliar with… it’s about reentry into the real world of coupon clipping, Wal-Mart shopping and having to find a job minus ANY workplace skills because you’re broke and living in a senior citizen’s village with your mother Again, NO EXPERIENCE here. LOLLOLLOLLOL.

Anyway, I’m crazy excited to be offered the chance to write them because they’re straight contemps, and I’ve only done a couple in my writing career. I’ll still be doing whacky paranormals, if the pub gods approve So my writing plate is full, people. I’m at the author’s buffet for the next year and a half or so

We have another addition to the Cassidy household–Squeeeeeeeee! Her name’s Tallulah or Lil’ T or T-Bell and she’s a mini long-haired Chihuahua. Soooooo cute. I know you’re thinking, “Jesus, Dakota. Wasn’t six enough?” I can only say she spoke to me in the way all my babies have done. The way I see it, if we added the weight of all seven puppies, they’d make one big German Shepherd They just have more butts–which means more scooping poop.

Now, a mini rant–Reality TV–yes, I’m still watching it and I just have a wee comment about that fuckwit Jon Whatshisname from Jon and Kate Plus 8. Yeah, I said it. He’s a fuckwit. Don’t get excited if you don’t agree–this is just one woman’s observation. Dude, you have EIGHT kids. Eight. Now I know most of you have read the shit that’s gone down with this couple and I have to say, Jon–yer a weenie. Weenie, weenie, weeeeeeenie.

If you felt like your woman was beating you down too often (and in some cases, I agree, she had Hitler-ish tendencies, but I guess someone has to with EIGHT kids!) why didn’t you open your big mouth? You, passive aggressive whiner! Somebody needs to smack you in your Hair For Men Club head. You’re so average and unoriginal in your plight for a deck of man cards, it’s just a smite overdone. Dumb ass has a wife who takes charge because husband won’t and or can’t. Instead of speaking up about wife’s military-style tactics, he stuffs resentment to the far regions of his testicles. Finally, he can’t take anymore and explodes like Mt. St. Helen’s by cheating with younger woman, getting an earring, a bluetooth, and a tat, then pats himself on the back for speaking up and taking charge of his life. AFTER he’s trashed nine lives. Oh, and he does it in front of an entire nation so that his EIGHT kids will have a lovely Internet legacy to look fondly upon when they’re old enough to touch the comp. And they will. So- Boo-yah, big boy.

The wordage–Finally finished Kiss and Hell’s sequel, My Way To Hell. This was one tough book, my friends. Only because I really had to use my minimal brain cells to make it as twisty turny as Kiss and Hell was. So I’m spent and fully intend to return to my plotless fluff the moment I’m allowed. Snerk

Um, summer. It’s been brutal here in TX. Like living on the surface of Mars. Someone give Mother Nature a ring-a-ling and tell her to knock this shit off. I can’t possibly be expected to look fresh and vibrant when I’m limp and soggy. A little respect here, eh?

A whine–Vacation. I’m on self-imposed vacation right now because I don’t want to burn out doing four books a year. It. Blows. I’m just no good at it. I found myself wandering in Wal-Mart like days of yore when I was a housewife and felt like I had no purpose other than to cook and clean. Not that housewives don’t have purpose. it was just this one who didn’t. I’m inventing things to clean, folks. I’m going to bed at frickin’ 11 p.m. It’s KILLING ME. But it ends in like 124 hours or so. LOL.

So I’m going to go now and clean the lining of my uterus (because there’s nothing left to clean in the house) or something to keep busy until this stoopid vacation is ovah!

Until next we meet,

DC