Nocturnal Journal

Paranormal Romance Author
Mandy M. Roth
Vampires, Werewolves & Faeries...Oh My!
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Jukebox Reflection, big hair, big shoulders, wall street mentalities, and men in leather pants…

WARNING: I’m in a crabby mood and unwilling to read back through this. If errors are found, close your eyes and pretend hard that it’s not wrong. Come back to it and continue on. You’ll be okay, I promise *ducks to avoid stones being pelted at her*

My mega hug disc CD player bit it a few days ago. I’m going through and yanking out discs. While doing this, I decided it was a great time to pull out all those old cassette tapes we have. Umm, I’m embarrassed for myself.

Wake me up before you go-go…

Jitter bug? WTF? How old am I? And why is it that the minute I hear a rather enthusiastic George Michaels belting out these very lyrics I can’t help but dance? Am I a ball of sunshine? A ray of pure light? Do I even need to answer that? Didn’t think so. LOL. Yet only seconds before stopping to write this, I was doing that very thing—dancing in the kitchen as I loaded dishes into the dishwasher.

Man-eater…

Where do I sign up for that gig?

Really though, I am one of the strangest people I know. I’m rough around the edges—okay, jagged even. But I find myself randomly singing or dancing to music playing only in my head. Yeah, the voices hushed long enough to let Huey tell me he’s got a new drug. The man is how many years older than me and I still think he’s one of the sexiest men put on this earth. And that raspy voice, mmm, they should bottle that as an aphrodisiac.

Don’t you want me baby?

Moving on…Human League. Where did they come from? Where did they go? Not quite a one hit wonder, but I have memories of only two of their songs. One of which I find my mind accessing randomly. But even then I knew I’d find a much better place, even with or without you. Yeah, sums up a lot you know.

Bum rushed?????

Next stop on the eighties dance tour is Wild Wild West by Kool Mo Dee (sp?). There was a time before the introduction of gangster rap that I actually incorporated a wider variety into my insane music repertoire. Doesn’t matter how out of touch the song seems now with its “softer” words, the hook in that song will make you move your ass. And I find it hard to NOT think about one of the dances we had in seventh grade. Ahh, the memories. Living in constant fear that a break out would occur, that the period you’d gotten a year or so prior would hold to form and show up unexpectedly. What about the hair. Why the hell did I think it was cool to shave steps into the sides of my head? Oh, right…it pissed my mom off.

Random thought insert: Did anyone else get annoyed every time that friggin’ Do the locomotion song came on? Yeah, I knew it wasn’t just me.

Head to toe….

No one ever accused Lisa and her “cult” of sacrificing chickens. Figures. Why the hell do I get accused. I'm a freak about bacteria. Like I'd get blood on my hands. OY!

Martika…

Toy Soldiers? Love it! Where the hell did you go? Where you ever even here? I think I may have been hopped up too many “this is your brain” commercials to be thinking clearly back then.

Land down under…

Vegemite sandwich? Took me a while to figure out what the hell they were talking about. I get it now. Took me long enough. Once more I fully blame the egg breaking, frying pan commercials. NO WAIT! It was the Italian guy dressed as an Indian crying as he looked around at the pollution. That did it!

Mr. Big?

Does anyone else instantly want them to whip it out to verify this. I mean, claiming your “Mr. Big” is rather presumptuous. Have you seen all the other dicks in the world? I haven’t and that makes me question you. Big is actually a relative term. You could be a seventy pound forty year old virgin who grew up in a cult that taught you that your hand would fall off if you touched yourself. If so, your opinion on a large penis would most certainly be different than mine.

Love and erection?

Err…I mean affection. They’d have been hot with shorter hair. Dating a man prettier than me is cardinal rule number three on my list of DO NOT DO. I’ll drop more from the list as I go. I should point out that #1 is that I have the right to forget…errr…change each rule as I see fit. Being Queen is good.

Big Time…

Peter, I can’t say a bad thing about you! Anyone that I find oddly fascinating deserves my uttermost respect. You’ve got it.

White sports coats, pink shirts and loafers without soaks?

Who decided this was cool? Who okayed letting Phil waste a perfectly good song on the likes of this? *shakes head* Some times you have to just walk away or it will bug you forever. I liked the talking car show better and I think we all get what I’m trying to say here.

It’s raining men…

Wait, I need to get a bucket! Hell, I’d be out front “rolling” in the puddles if you know what I mean. I suddenly find myself thinking of Magnum P.I. stripping as he gives the weather forecast. I’d like to point out while I’m on the subject of Tom, he is the ONLY man allowed to have a mustache. He wears it as a sexual weapon. Other look like seventies porn stars. Goatees, any variation are permitted and even encouraged, but use caution men of the world—while the ZZ Top look worked for them, it is highly advised no man attempt this. Unless you can make me think you are the sharpest dressed man, leave it be. I’m only here to help folks.

You’ve got the look…

Do you now? You aren’t wearing leg warmers are you? No rainbow suspenders? Speedo? (please say no, please)

Naughty Girls Need Lovin’ too…

This is my theme song. Deny it all you want but its true. Claim that you’ve never listened to it and I’ll pretend that I never watched Silver Spoons. I spent endless hours learning to mimic her voice and praying to wake up with breasts her size. I got the voice thing down. The boobs never came. *pouts*

Strut…

I can’t be the only person who listened to this (thanks mom for being such a die hard fan of Sheena Easton that I knew all the words to this when I five. I preferred Dad listening to the Doobie Brothers—Black Water, while completely capable of sticking in your head, lacks the ability to creep back on you and never leave)

Nothing Compares To You…

Holly, that was hella fun to take off with your sister’s car (too bad we weren’t old enough to drive). I’ll even admit that listening to Carrie belt out the words to this for the ENTIRE hour drive wasn’t as painful as it could have been. Though it is hard to sit next to a bitchy Barbie wanna-be and not want to hit her. The added “cha, cha” sound she inserted between EVERY line of the song did make it difficult.

Oh, my God Becky…

I like big butts and I cannot lie. Umm, yeah I do…what of it? I dare you not to shake your ass to this one. I’ve spent years to trying to escape my ass. It spent equally as many years following me. When I was pregnant, I swear the thing sat on the back of thighs. I found myself referring to my legs as ass stilts, support columns, braces…yeah, you get the picture.

Wishing Well…

Need I say more? You will all be thinking of this song for weeks. Don’t bother with the hate mail. My inbox is like a black hole. LOL. *big evil grin*

Tiffany…

I think my hubby would like some alone time with you. The guy’s been infatuated with you from the word go. Redheads make him weak in the knees. Everyone want a good laugh? I dyed my hair this insane strawberry blonde/red right before graduation from high school (sorry about that mom). I meant my husband a few months after that. Having spent those two months working outside at an amusement park had made it lighten up even more. I'm fairly sure he thought he was getting a redhead. That was prior to the brazilin days so you’d think he’d have caught on at some point. Umm, when I dyed it back to dark brown/borderline black, he freaked. I bit back the OY and walked away. If you all promise not to laugh, I’ll post a pic of the summer we meant in my readers group pic files. The first person who pokes fun of me gets bumped off in my book.

White Snake…

What the hell was I thinking? Guess it beats the Great White I just chucked out the window. I firmly believe the large amounts of cocaine being snorted throughout the US filtered into the air and made me high too. It’s really the only explanation I have. (Quickly tosses White Lion out window too)

You’re Unbelievable…

Thanks, I know.

Relax Don’t Do it…

I’ll try to hold back. Don’t have the equipment to play along. But I’d love to watch.

Karma Karma…

I refuse to be embarrassed by this. Come here George…I’ll hold you and never really want to hurt you.

Tainted Love…

Aren’t they all?

Sunglasses at Night…

Umm, baby. As fine as you looked you could have worn the damn things anywhere you wanted just so long as I got to wear whatever I wanted as well (for the record it was you).

Take on me…

*shakes head* You could have done so much better than the skittish blonde in the video. And how do you get your voice to go that high?

If You Leave…

Don’t look back. What I think you really should have said was “don’t let the door hit you in ass.” I’ve offered to help a few men pack in my life. And I guarantee I won’t cry.

Goody Two Shoes…

Often I have to stop and listen to this. Having never been one that a comment as such was directed at, the concept is a bit foreign to me.

Summer of 69…

AWESOME SONG! Enough said.

Sweet Dreams…

See above comment!

Quickly pitching the following into the trash…

Air Supply

Journey

The Little River Band

(secretly hides Styxx…and sings Mr. Roboto)

Quiet Riot

Ratt

Winger

Warrant

(keeping Poison. I still love Brett)

Don’t Dream it’s Over…

There is freedom within. One of only a select number of songs that make me actually want to slow dance, with a man no less! Very symbolic of my take on most interactions with other people.

My take on other slow songs…

Crash by Dave Matthews Band is another one I’ll willing go onto the dance floor and allow myself to be pawed. MORE: Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now), If You Don't Know Me By Now , Wicked Game , In Your Eyes, Iris, She Talks To Angels, Stairway To Heaven, Take My Breath Away – Berlin anyone plays the newer version risks castration, Time After Time and Mandy (just kidding, playing this will also leave you short vital item).

Playing NIN Closer to God, while not slow, will most certainly get you laid. *winks a DH, are you taking notes?* ....like an animal...feel you on the inside....

NIN, Depeche Mode, The Cure…

Back up off any smart comments. You’ll only get hurt.

That’s all the glimpse of the tapes I’m willing to give you. One day I’ll let you see my cd collection. Trust me when I tell you that it’s scarier than the tapes.

Mandy


posted by mandymroth @ 8:57 PM   1 comments

Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Yes, Virginia there is a Santa …


Dear Santa,

I’m writing to you in hopes that I will find a man with the following traits/interests under the tree come Christmas morning:

  1. Enjoys the sound of Nine Inch Nails blaring while I clean.
  2. Can tolerate 80’s music.
  3. Does NOT believe that Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach & Beethoven sound identical. Also, does not mind if I clean to this instead. Also, cannot think the music originated from the “Beef: It’s what’s for dinner” commercial. Must NOT believe Fantasia is the easiesr way to learn about classical music.
  4. Likes wine and does not think that buying me a bottle of Boones qualifies as good wine.
  5. Must be willing to have a glass of wine with me while I put in old black and white movies, turn the sound down and make up my own version. Must also be willing to sit on the floor while we do this.
  6. Must not laugh when I say I want to watch MY FAIR LADY again. (or the Wizard of Oz)
  7. Must know more about cars than where the gas goes. I’m not asking for much here. I’d settle for understanding where the wiper fluid goes. Oh, and he must also get the fact that a brand new truck still needs oil changes and does NOT dub as a garbage can.
  8. Must not only be willing to wear a black turtleneck/ribbed long sleeved shirt, v-neck with or without undershirt, but enjoy the experience as well.
  9. Does not wear underwear with holes in them. OR t-shirts that are shredding as we speak.
  10. Must not believe that tossing on a pair of black combat boots and staying in your pajama bottoms is acceptable store attire.
  11. Must enjoy wearing the cologne I buy him. Hugo Boss fan myself. Others tend to bother me. Sneezing is never fun, Santa so be sure he understands this.
  12. Must not find my affinity for black attire odd. And must not think a woman is sexiest when she looks like a deadhead.
  13. Must not think Molly Ringwald is the sexiest woman in the world.
  14. Must not be obsessed with Anne Coulter.
  15. Must understand that I do understand politics. I just don’t like talking about them ALL the time.
  16. Must not call home every thirty minutes to ask for updates regarding political information.
  17. Must understand that when I’m quiet, I’m not mad at him. I’m just quiet. It happens. It’s rare but there.
  18. Must not try to hug me ALL day. Must not expect me to hug him all day. Must understand that it is possible for two people to interact while not holding hands or hugging.
  19. Must fully understand #18.
  20. Does not require cuddling after intercourse.
  21. Does not attempt to “help” with household duties unless proficient in the finer art of NOT shrinking my clothes.
  22. Understands I am a bitch and does nothing to change this. And is not surprised that I not only never grew out of it, I got better at it.
  23. Does not think the perfect woman is a redhead who enjoys making sloppy joe’s, frozen pizzas, pizza rolls, two gallons of ice tea a day. All while wearing a long flowery dress.
  24. Likes asparagus, artichoke hearts, chicken more than steak, coffee (lots of coffee), hearts of palm, and anything else I’m doing at the moment.
  25. MUST like to read. And NO I do not expect him to like what I write. I just expect him to enjoy some sort of reading (other than Calvin and Hobbs).
  26. Must not try to send me away when I’m trying to explain the finer points of forensic science.
  27. Must not think that my having an extensive collection of material on every subject makes me a closet nerd.
  28. Does not think that singing the song “Mandy” to me is original.
  29. Must enjoy golfing with the guys.
  30. Must be willing to out with his buddies.
  31. Must be fine with me going out with the gals.
  32. Understands that I love him even though I don’t remember to say it often (okay, almost never).
  33. Understands that I am sarcastic about everything in life.
  34. Must not ask me to stand in line for Star Wars movie tickets.
  35. Must not think Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail is the best movie ever.
  36. Must be willing to watch 80’s movies with me when I get the notion. Must think it’s funny to randomly toss out a movie quote. Example: “I want my two dollars.”
  37. May like football, but does not count the days down until his Sunday Ticket begins.
  38. His mood on the weekend may not be determined on how well his team did.
  39. Must entertain the idea of going to plays with me.
  40. Must want to go sit a Chinese food restaurant before heading over to a independent movie house to watch a foreign film.
  41. Must be willing to embrace my freakiness.
  42. THIS IS THE BIGGEST—must be tall dark and handsome. Blonds need not apply. LOL.

That’s about it, Santa. Hope I’m not being too greedy.

Mandy (who has been a very naughty…err…I mean good girl this year)

posted by mandymroth @ 10:21 AM   1 comments

Monday, December 20, 2004
Floats like a butterfly, stings like a bitch…?

Nothin’ says lovin’ like your hubby giving you a punching bag (heavy bag) as an early Christmas present. Do you think he’s trying to tell me something? Perhaps he thinks my upper body could use the help? Maybe, he believes that not all women desire kitchen appliances. It could be that he bought it for me, but really wanted it for himself (everyone who knows Shane can stop laughing now…we all know it’s not that one). Maybe he thought the gym we have in the garage needed that added touch. He might have stared at the spot the previous owner had a punching bag in and thought it needed to be filled once more.

Unsure as to his reasoning for this, I flat out asked him. He gave me his notorious sheepish grin and said, “Well, I thought you would get your use out of it.”

I asked him to clarify that statement and politely pointed out that I have no anger management issues.

He replied, “Because you have no anger management skills.”

This is wrong for so many reasons! I am a sweet, caring individual who puts the needs of mankind before her own. (Everyone who knows me can get off the floor now.) I am a giving person. Why just the other day I gave a lovely young gentleman at the mall a piece of my mind, along with all the promotional material he’d shoved at me. Sure, it…umm…all sort of flew into the air and scattered around the floor, but I can hardly be blamed for that.

Some might say that I have a good deal of pent up anger. I say that’s ridiculous. I don’t cage my rage. It flows freely, allowing me to have low blood pressure. Not one to shy away from confrontation, I find myself wrongly labeled as a bitch, an instigator, a sociopath. I dispute these claims. I can hardly be expected to stand around and smile while someone is being a moron. Can I? Wait, you’re telling me that my husband “helping” with the laundry and washing my dress shirts with the towels doesn’t qualify. I beg to differ.

I once entertained taking courses on being a lady. I then decided I could just as my brother. (RUNS from Kris…mmmuuuwwwhhhhaaaa, AND Mom, I know that he’s a heterosexual male who is happily married but I reserve the right to make fun of him the rest of our natural lives. That’s what big sisters get to do. Hey, it beats telling him that the muscle cream in the master bathroom was toothpaste. At least he didn’t need to get his stomach pumped this time. SEE, I am a sweetheart.

Well, while I ponder the age old question of “why is Mandy such a bitch,” I’ll try out the XMAS present and keep you updated on its therapeutic value. If anything, it should making ducking a habit of the past for my dear sweet laundry challenged hubby. Hey, is washing dress shirts with towels ground for divorce? JK


Mandy
posted by mandymroth @ 8:07 AM   0 comments

Friday, December 17, 2004
Thongs, songs and hard drive issues...

Personal…

What do you do when you hard drive crashes and you lose an assload of information? Drink heavily. That’s right folks! LOL!

Now that I’m back up and running I’m thinking of having it crash again. At least then I wouldn’t have to stare at the pile of stuff I need to get done. When I get stressed I take one of two paths—the bitchy everyone must die one and the lets sing show tunes and put our middle fingers up at the world. Both odd but entirely me. Now, that I’m done plotting society’s demise, I’m moving into show tune area. The theme song to Great American Hero won’t seem to leave my head. Uhh, let’s not dwell on that.

It just hit me that Christmas is like a week away. I’m wondering if my kids will mind me making them wrap their own stuff. Seems only fair. Then again, they’d only tape each other to wall right after they throw scissors at one another. Hmm, the idea is sounding better and better. Hey…why are you all looking at me like that? Geesh, like I’d let them tape themselves to the way. LOL!

Oh, I went thong shopping for Michelle. And for all you peeps who keep thinking we’re the same person I’ll have you know that her ass is an entire size smaller than mine. I would want to be her but she’s blonde. I’ll have to pass. Plus, she has an affinity for pajama bottoms and that just creeps me out.

Thong shopping for her was both fun and challenging. If we don’t hear from her again it’s because she’s accidentally tied herself up with the strings on one of them. I so should have sent her an instruction manual.

Speaking of thongs…

At one point in my life, I thoroughly believed a thong was the equivalent of an all day wedgie. Now, I get it. I could wear a thong and have a string up my ass or wear granny undies and have a lot more material to try to pick out later in the day. Hmm, I’m going with the string. Plus, they take up less room in the washing machine. I’m also less embarrassed by the notion of dieing in a car crash and the paramedics seeing my underwear in a thong. Why you ask? (Hey, if you did ask that then you really don’t know me.)

Book update…

I think that THE ENCHANTRESS (DOD2) is coming out this week or next. Sorry for the hold up. I added 20k more to it so I’m hoping that makes up for it. And all of you hardcore fans better get your typing fingers ready to send me angry email after your done. Then again, you may like the twist the series takes as much as me. Don’t worry, the series takes MANY plot turns. *big evil grin*

Ouch! Who threw that at me? LOL!

Immortal Ops 2 ran into a bit of a delay. Namely my computer ate it but hey, what can you really do about it? That’s right--I forgot my own rule…drink heavily. Roi and Missy fans should be pleased. These two are just as likely to beat the crap out of each other as they are to get nekkie. Just the type of man every girl thinks they want. LOL. Sit back and picture me with a smartass, playboy who believes he’s God’s gift to the female population. HEY! Stop picturing me as a man! I can’t help I have those traits. Having a male mentality is very liberating. Plus, its fun at parties when I can explain why men do stupid things.

CYBER SEX, was just released. Wow, is this one different than my normal dark, ass kickin’ work! I had a ton of fun letting go and have many more planned in the series. They’re therapeutic and about as happy go lucky as I get.

GYPSY NIGTS was released right before that but I was in the middle of my computer disaster so I couldn’t get on here and comment. Sebastian was my first attempt at a French vampire. Normally, I stick with Italian because I absolutely love men with dark hair, dark eyes and accents. Plus, I’m familiar with the language, culture and so on. French was “Greek” to me. I had fun with it and then made Jean-Pierre in All Hollow’s Eve French as well. I’ve got my eyes on Scottish vamps now. Kerr was too much fun. Yeah, when you fall asleep and have a dream about doing one of your own character you realize you are indeed insane and that you really should do more like him.

I can’t remember if I posted about LAST CALL so I’ll just add a bit about it here. Umm, let me first start by saying WOW. The email, posts, all around reader response to this one has been amazing. I think it may be right up there with DOD stuff. This took me completely by surprise! Don’t get me wrong, I love Jovan and Maxim—I just thought more people would be yelling a me for having two heroes again. Maybe you’re all just getting used to me. Maybe you’ve all just given up hope that I’ll stick to one man. LOL, why am I thinking it’s the latter of the two? Hmm?

I’ve typed your ear off enough now so I’ll let you all go.

Take care and I promise to get back on here soon.

Mandy (who is SO NOT proofreading this post)

posted by mandymroth @ 8:20 AM   2 comments

 
 


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