Who is Lana Wolfe?

From the far reaches of a hairstylist's journey and out of her dreams, Lana Wolfe was born.  She is only 9 years old in real life but also note, that she is me.  She is loving, trusting, and the innocent side of my inner soul.  Over all, she has a lot of growing up to do, but this world is huge to her and unless she stayed 9 years old for the next one hundred, there isn't enough lifetime for her to complete her work.

Looking for an Agent

 

This isn’t a book for the faint of heart, no. Beyond the Mattress will unnerve and anger the audience with its gruesome reality, captivate them with its sensual imagery and it will entertain them with its multilayered messages that the readers of different levels will catch through the story itself.

In a world where profits and lust too often dominate the powerless, Lachelle Marie Samuels, a journalist and the main character of the story, discovers the healing power of human sexuality.

Part One will anger the audience. Part Two will leave them breathless. Part Three, the true political body of the journalist’s experience, will ring all too true for those who keep up on current events. Part Four is the light hearted conclusion, which allows the reader to calm down in the sanctuary of family love.

The characters in this book all have their own stories, including Lana Wolfe. I’ve written three out of five parts in her series which is titled, The Dreams of Lana Wolfe. Two things I ask of you; Enjoy and consider representing me.

Procrastination, again?

One foot in front of the other.  I said to myself this morning, "Self, you can do it methodically or not at all.  Today you have a choice." 

Off to begin this week's chores.    (sometimes i've got nothing to say)

Fibromyalgia

This past week hasn't been good for the arthritis or the fibromyalgia and it hurts to sleep and  I've been sleeping a lot. In my dreams I was diagnosed as having this physical pain because my spirit is seeking to be free from my body.  The body is too heavy without the bouyancy of the spirit, therefore I have pain.  So that diagnosis came out of a dream and when you weigh it against what the medical professionals have told me, it makes better sense.

Today, I heard through the grapevine that my love is going home.  The hole to my soul just got wider as I typed this.  There are two types of breath, one belonging to the body, one to the spirit.  My spirit is leaking.  It's leaking.  I wonder if a year from now there will be anything left to me or will I merely be a slab of flesh.

Texas found their propane Tankers

I got the news that the tankers were found and they were full.  The idea of two trucks missing  then being found is most bizarre.  I wonder if the terrorists did take them then got nervous enough to abandon them.   I'd check the composition of the propane and... I'd look for devices of a suspicious nature.   Perhaps the trucks can be set off via remote by a phone call.    At any rate, I'm glad they were found.  I still don't trust the whole ordeal.  

Talk Around Town

Our town is in shock.  The old salon I worked at on Redwood St. was finally opened again under the name of Totally Tan.  Well, I knew the folks at their previous location and this story is one that I'm having trouble dealing with.  The owner was a pretty little thing about 34ish, spoiled little catholic type, but she was giddy in love with her hubby, or so I thought.  Yes, she is quite materialistic, like a movie star type might be, but her hubby was down to earth; a nicer guy you would never meet.  He is dead.  Yes.  Shot in the head while he slept in bed.  No robbery, no forced entry in their custom home in the gated community of Green Valley, and get this; she was downstairs in her kitchen when it happened.  Nothing odd about that but it happened just after 4 am in the morning.  She says she heard footsteps and hid out in a closet until she was sure they were gone.  Keep in mind, there was no sign of a struggle. 

Everyone has her guilty already.  No such thing as a fair trial for her.  What struck me as odd was that he was shot with mulitple gunshots and she reported hearing only one while the neigbors heard nothing.  Thats not so odd at that hour but for her to hear only one, that is odd.  You could muffle it through a pillow but that would make it a "hit". And its looking like it was a hit, except hits generally don't waste time and ammunition.  It could be that they thought they were killing a couple and not one person alone in bed, which means she is in danger. Or, it would have to be a crime of passion- multiple gunshots are overkill-no pun meant.

I'm worried about this case.  I always joke about doing in my husband but I never would.  I'm up at any given time, especially 3 and 4am.  I go to the kitchen and play online so I won't be inconsiderate of his sleeping pattern.  If something like that were to happen in my house, and it could<shudder> I might not hear it either.  One thing, I'd probably be dead too because it would be hard to come into our house and not see me awake online and I can't call 911 while online, nor log off fast enough to do so in that kind of emergency.  Yep, I'd be dead too and if I weren't, I'd be the number one suspect given my history.  I feel bad for them, for our town.  I'm worried.

The Shock consequences

When i figured out i didn't have a life raft anymore, I learned to walk on water. (Not really.)

I've depended on someone being there for me and these past two weeks have taught me  that it is a sink or swim deal when the support system goes.  It's like death; first the shock, then the sadness, the anger, more shock and anger followed by sadness.  By the time I got to that point, I realized I was drowning in depression.  I spoke to a few about this but ultimately, even drowning is an act of will.  The waters of fate didn't suddenly jump my bones, no.  I've been taking on water for a very long time.  I was half submerged when my love did the inevitable.  So for me there remained only one choice that made sense.  Walk on.  Walk on by, walk on clouds, walk on water, just walk.   I've been in a Forrest Gump kind of way but I don't run.  I walk. 

Its 8 30 am here in California and I should sleep.  I didn't get home till 2 30 this morning.  Who'd a thunk it.  I was up all night hanging with some friends.  Guess what, for a few hours, I got to sit, no drowning, no walking.   Ahhhhhh.