Back To School September / October

Every couple of weeks, I hope to post a Back To School blog for US, THE PARENTS.
* One week, I will introduce you to amazing, relaxing products with a special interview by the products creator.
* Another week I will give you tops and quotes from parents who got off of drugs for their kids, and stay off of drugs for their kids.
* Tips on dealing with Children’s Services.
* Pets and kids.
* Making sure your kids actually do their homework
* Kids and bullies
* Anything readers suggest.
Send suggestions to:

Find this on my new site, “A Little Bit of Everything


Open Letter of WHY To My Ex-Beloved

I remember when I came up with that nickname, “Beloved”. It was from a book by Robin Hobb. The Fool, who had been in many of her books, sometimes as a male, sometimes female, had been captured and was being slowly tortured in a frozen wasteland. He had no hope if being saved. As his skin was being slowly stripped away from his back, he was delerious with pain, and he began mumbling, “Beloved, My Beloved, ” or something like that. And even tho we’d just found each other after a decade, I knew that if I was in the same situation, I’d be calling out your name. Beloved. My Beloved. Because it has always been you.
Continue reading “Open Letter of WHY To My Ex-Beloved”

How Amanda Palmer Won Me Over. Sort of.

Amanda Palmer is easy to hate. She’s loud. She’s demanding — and her rise to increased public visibility has come largely care of her willingness to treat the world as part piggy bank, part personal assistant. She stonewalls in the face of criticism. She’s got a large, vocal, and aggressively evangelistic fanbase; she’s one of those polarizing public figures it’s hard to casually enjoy or dislike.

[From: The Art of Asking Why We Hate Amanda Palmer | WIRED]

Continue reading “How Amanda Palmer Won Me Over. Sort of.”

Google+ : Perverts Paradise! (Repost from 2014)

Repost because the original seems to have gone missing.
Friday, December 19, 2014
Google+ : Perverts Paradise!
I will freely admit that in this New World of everyone vomiting their personal guts up — “Look at my kid! Here he is two seconds later, isn’t he adorable? And, here, same pose, same outfit, same day. Amazing, isn’t it?” — or the, “I need you to unfriend and block C—-. He’s stalking me. Again.” — etc, etc, — this whole, let’s put it ALL out there and then some, people will think we’re making it up anyway — is baffling to me.
Kids under ten are posted all over for child molesters (they’re out there. They may sit in front of you in Sex Ed. They may help your kids onto animals at the Bronx Zoo, copping a feel. They may wear lots of buttons on their Toys R Us vest to attract more kids. Yes, I’m talking about you, Mr. N.L.). Kids with Facebook accounts that parents swear they’re watching. Hell, I can’t even watch my own FB account all the time!
But the worst violation I have come across is Google➕.
I was required to get a gmail account when I got my phone. I was NEVER told I would be automatically signed up for  Google➕ account.
I never posted, so I never received notification that it was there.
I was watching YouTube with my son (no pictures of him; I say it’s because he’s too gorgeous, and that’s part of it. The other part is, if I know you, you’ll get your own pictures of him. If you don’t know him, you don’t need pictures of him. I don’t need your comments to let me know he’s amazing; I KNOW he’s awesome!). Somehow, they link me thru YouTube to Google ➕.
And there I find every picture I’ve ever taken on my cell phone, every photo and video sent to my cell phone, it’s all there for people to see and download.
I immediately shut down the sites — Google ➕ & YouTube.
I felt dirty.
It’s one thing to CHOOSE to show my breasts; it’s another when they’re just put out there.
Eventually, I was able to reuse the accounts, and (supposedly) the pictures are for “my eyes only”.
If you ever see photos on Google ➕ that aren’t individually posted, PLEASE TELL ME.
I’d do the same for you, but, sad to say, I doubt that most of you will care.

D. K. Stevens at 5:40 PM

My (sorely neglected) Free Write blog:

If you’re on, check out And vice versa.
Blessed Be.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Reward.”

My first thought was that reward at the end of the day: my bed.

But then I got a package…

Which, when I opened it had…

Pads! (Not the writing kind. The — guys, close your eyes — menstrual kind.)
And I realized, “Holy crap, it worked!”
All of those filling out forms and clicking, “no, no, no” to things I don’t have, don’t want, or have never heard of… I finally, FINALLY, got my “Reward” — that ever elusive FREE SAMPLE.

A Girl You Should Date

Written by:
Rosemarie Urquico


You should date a girl who reads.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Written by:
Rosemarie Urquico


If you’re on, check out And vice versa.
Blessed Be.

VD Post

I’m spending a lovely valentines with my son, the best Valentine ever!
I was going to finish my Stalkers post, but we’re a bit busy with video games, Netflix, and the Annotated Sandman, so here are a few things for you to watch:
Charlie Brown Be My Valentine

“Lovey dovey bullshit”. Neil Gaiman recites a love poem he wrote for his wife Amanda Palmer.

And, some Tom Hiddleston…
MTV After Hours With Tom Hiddleston

Slumber Party With Tom Hiddleston



And as I posted on Twitter and Facebook,
Happy VD to those who celebrate! (Older people will get the reference. Younger people need to wait until Saint Thomas’ Day.)

Sandman, 2nd Generation

When I was 17, I met a vampire in Pittsburgh.
We first met on a crowded stairway. From behind me I hear, “Nice tattoo.” Since this was 1992, and I’d just had my first one done, I turned. “But I like the face better.”
I bumped into him the next day and, as we walked to his place a few blocks away, he confided he was a 200 year old vampire. True, he was thin and pale, tho not as pale as me, but… “You do know you’re in the sun, right?”
“Stings a bit, but I have a high threshold for pain.”
He had an answer for every question, and that, mixed with my penchant for passing out in the sun, made us both hurry to his house.
Just before we stepped inside, he asked if he could suck my blood.
“Aren’t you worried you might catch something?” I asked.
“I’m already dead, remember?”
But when he asked if I’d suck his blood, “I’m still alive. I can catch something.”
We made our way up to the third floor bedroom, where the most amazing poster hung on his closet door:


I sat on the floor, back against the couch, mesmerized by every detail. The cat with bat wings. The girl gently resting her hand on the head of the girl sitting on the floor.
As my vampire sat above me, legs on either side of me, he pulled the hair away from the back of my neck and maybe it was the situation– I’m having my blood sucked by a guy who thinks he’s a vampire– but I insisted he take me to buy my own. (I still have it. It’s on my wall now.)

When I got home, I went straight to Forbidden Planet, a large comic book store near where I lived. I described the poster, and was led to a graphic novel called, “Sandman: Season of Mists”.
I bought it, read it, and was hooked. The author, Neil Gaiman, had so much knowledge, which he seamlessly wove into his stories.

I was a Gaimanite. (“Gaimanite” is a potential term for a Neil Gaiman fan. There was a minor Twitter debate.) I longed to add the cover version of the Key to Hell as a tattoo. (*There are at least three versions of the Key. I did get the Key done, tho I waited 17 years.)
I read everything I could that had Neil Gaiman as an author. I bought graphic novels, books.
I even got a T-shirt with a popular Death quote:

Fast forward to a week ago at the library. I’ve been begging my son to read on of Mr. Gaiman’s books, but no luck.
It was when I checked out, “The Annotated Sandman, vols 2 and 3 that my sons’ curiosity got the best of him.
Book 2 begins with Season of Mists. And, like me, my son can’t put it down.
And so it begins.
A new Neil Gaiman fan. Only this one Is a 2nd generation fan.
To my “vampire”, where ever you are, thank you.

Dating Site Advice from a Newbie

(5 minute free write)

My introduction to internet dating sites came from my “baby daddy”, as he wishes to be called.
He had asked me to live with him — and his younger sister at his mom’s — and I came ” home” one day to find him looking at prospects. When I asked if he’d mentioned that he was living with someone, he said he was doing it “for us”.
No, not for a threesome.
This site had been advertising a questionnaire that could, supposedly, find your soulmate in 29 questions. He’d filled it out, and wanted me to do the same to see if we’d be matched up.
“There’s just one problem, ” I said. “In the age category. I would say I want to date some my age or older — and you’re two and a half years younger.”
And, no, I did not believe his story, but as I was already looking to escape him, I wasn’t all that upset…

However, after yet another friend became engaged to someone she met thru an online dating service, I decided to try it. As an experiment. Sort of.

After a few weeks, I’ve come up with some Do’s and Don’t’s. Well, mostly Don’t’s.
(Note: I was only allowed to choose male OR female, not both. I chose male because I can be with a male and not get emotionally involved. With females, it’s rare for me not to have some sort of emotional feelings. Yes, it confuses most people, not just you.)

Here we go:

* When going on a dating site, do NOT give yourself a name like, “SmoothLover”, ” HotNSexy”, or, “Your#1Man”. On the other hand, I was not impressed by, “MamasBoy” (tho I do like Mama’s boys), and “GreenPiss” (I swear this one is real!).

* When posting photos, there are quite a few things that won’t work. Posting all group photos but not saying which one you are; including your mom or dad or your kids; including an ex or strippers (Sorry, they were, “dancers at a show in Atlantic City”, responded the guy in question when I asked.); and only posting sayings and pictures of cartoon characters.

* Before you respond, you should read ALL of what the other person wrote. For example, I wrote that I wasn’t getting the upgrade, so clicking that you want to “meet me” will get you nothing, but a message will be more likely to get a response. (The ratio of “meet” to a message is about 2:1.)

What does work? With me, nothing, so far.

Next: I switch over to the lesbian dating site and get my heart broken.