I’m moved into my apartment in Chicago. It’s been a rough week and I’ve already learned some lessons.
Lesson number 1– 50 degrees (any number with a five or less in front of it) is way too cold for me… So if it’s 41 degrees or lower, then I’m dying a slow death. Seriously…
Lesson number 2– I might want to live a walkable life but not if it’s in the cold. I thought I could handle it but NOPE. For me, a cold day is one where I can wear my long sweater and be warm.
Lesson number 3 — I need a house. I have the worst luck with high-rise and apartment living. One of my girlfriends was just telling me how she moved into a new apartment and she can’t hear a peep out of her neighbors. Well, day two of moving in my apartment and bone-head upstairs wants to play his loud, bass tainted, techno music. ALL. DAY. LONG. I kid you not. Why me? No. Really. Why me?
Also, this building has a strange heating system. Basically, they’ve turned off the heat already for the “season.” So when it’s 40 degrees outside, it’s 20 degrees in the hallways. There’s no heat!!! I have to use space heaters and they hardly work. Oh and the electric bill???? Can’t wait to see that. The suspense is killing me.
Another lesson I’ve learned is to hire a cross-country moving company whether I have furniture or not. Shipping boxes via UPS ended up costing me over $1k. (shakes head)–along with the exhaustion of boxing, carrying all those boxes down stairs, packing them into my car and then unloading to ship. Next time–I pay movers.
So when my 6 months lease is up, I’m so “going back to Cali, Cali…Cali” Dude, I soooo know so….
Alright. And so I’ve officially started Getting To Know Her, A Chicago Love Story.
I had some issues with writing this story that I’ve been trying to rectify in my brain for the last three months. In the end, I’ve decided to be bold and write the story I want to tell. Heck, that’s what I’ve been doing thus far.
So I’m going to write the difficult story. But I want you to stick with me because there is a universal theme here. I wonder about theme’s or epigrams sometimes. Are they so because they’re true? Or are they so because we create them, reproduce them and because of that they somehow become part of our belief system (which are full of untruths)? If you love something enough to set it free, really, will it come back to you? Or do we as people just love the way that sounds????
But then, how many times have we heard stories of people who’ve experienced an epigram in real life? We’ve heard them. Marvel about their stories. And hoped they would happen to us. Well, that’s what fiction is all about, right? The hope that it can happen to us. Or if you’re in a hopeless situation–then experiencing it through someone else…
I’ve been deliberating about this for some time now. Each time I write a new book, I go through this battle in my mind. Be truthful or write what they want. Like–Say You Love Her for example. I didn’t want to write the man with the vagina. I’ve seen it done that way far too many times and it makes me want to gag. But those books are popular–women love them! They want the sensitive guy who reads like a woman. They don’t want a man to be a man. I watch the Bethenny Show and sometimes she has these man panels. When the men tell the mostly female audience the truth about what men think and how they are, the women let out collective moans. I mean–really–most women don’t want to know the truth! Or, we want to know the truth as we want it. I mean, maybe I should’ve given Charlie a vagina–only I would’ve gagged throughout the process of writing it. I guess, I’m the lone Bethenny! LOL! Because while the women moan and shake their heads, Bethenny is nodding and says, “I can see it.” Then she explains why and the women go silent. They don’t want the truth. They want the truth as they know it.
Well… At least I have the benefit of knowing that if readers have gotten this far, then they’re okay with my way of not writing the norm. And um–I don’t write men with vaginas or female tendencies. I’m just putting that out there. Look… they don’t call their penis anything but a “dick.” They don’t even call their penis a penis! They may call it a package though. Some may call it a cock but it depends on what mood they’re in. 😉
So… I’m going to write “Getting To Know Her” the way it REQUIRES to be written!
So hold on to your seats ladies and the small number of gentlemen who read my books :-)… Shocking… LOL! This next story is going to take you on the unconventional romantic ride of your life!
Since 53 degrees is too cold for me to frolic in, I’m staying inside and writing all day. I hate wearing heavy layers of clothing. I have a closet full of gladiator sandals and dresses. I’m just going to hang out indoors mostly until the weather permits.