Things I Shouldn’t Share

I ran this blog on another platform for a while, haphazardly posting a variety of too-personal, professional, pagan, and random-shit-I’m-thinking-about posts. Honestly, that’s still happening over here: if you’re looking for predictable this is not the place. I decided to combine the “personal” and “professional” blogs into a single site because 1) I’m lazy, and 2) I’ve never been good at compartmentalizing.

NPP, then, is both a random crap sort of blog as well as an author site, because eventually I’ll have pages in here for the books I publish.

Welcome to my weird. Stick around, have some whiskey or tea (or both). Sorry about the pet hair. (No, I’m not.)

Utterly Unrelated Trivia Bits:

  • I am old enough to remember how to use a rotary phone and that # didn’t always mean “hasthtag whatever”.
  • I never swear. Unless I’m speaking. Or writing.
  • Manners are fucking important.
  • I unapologetically LOVE Syfy channel’s bad creature movies. I adore ghostly/exorcist/creature horror as long as eyeballs remain in place. Sharknado is quality television, people.
  • I’ve been a Middle Eastern dancer (yes, I mean belly dance) for…well holy shit almost 20 years, and occasionally I still teach beginners.
  • My house is covered in books: they’re like bunnies in here, reproducing faster than I can read and leaving piles on every flat surface.
  • My oncologist says I’m supposed to walk or run more, so I’m planning on making a real attempt to learn to run. And by “run” I mean walking (and dry heaving) in fancy new running shoes between attempts at 60 seconds of a peculiar bouncing walk that could be jogging, if it were faster than actually walking. Fuck. Ok, I’m walking.
  • Grace is not part of my daily life…tripping on nothing and mystery shin bruises from shelf/desk/rock attacks are my norm. I sprained my ankle walking on a flat asphalt path.
  • I’m a breast cancer survivor. I occasionally blog about that and won’t apologize for giving a truthful account of the shit involved in the cancer experience.
  • My witch’s cottage house is ruled by:
    • an mighty hunter, fAngus, who thinks he’s a dog but is actually a homicidal maniac in a cat’s body
    • an 80# (#hashtag #pound sign) dog, Ragnar, who agrees with fAngus that the cat rules the house
    • an an exponentially expanding Great Pyrenees puppy, Minerva, who thinks she’s Queen of the world. fAngus disagrees. This is a daily argument.
    • Ultimately, I’m just the servant here.
  • I am a proud aunt of a niece and four nephews: Han, Evil, Rocket, and Groot. They pop up here and there in my posts. Han is the one with the unfortunate squeeze-pack incident. Life is messy.
  • I’m a terrible liar. Seems weird since I like writing fiction, right?
  • Travel teaches us how alike humans are no matter where we come from. I’ve been all over the US and internationally to:
    • Canada (I live in Minnesota, eh…it’s just a quick trip up to the border)
    • Ireland (more than once and please adopt me so I can live there)
    • Scotland (or here! I’d live here!)
    • Wales (more than once)
    • Liverpool (doesn’t count because it was a quick stop on a tour to see the Beatles museum)
    • Nottingham (doesn’t count because I was only there to have a fling with the tour bus driver)
    • London (doesn’t count, because it was only to get on the tour bus…obviously I need a not-stopover trip to England)
    • Norway (tried not to smile at anyone since it would reveal to stoic Norwegians that I’m a corrupted American, regardless of my heritage. Failed.)
    • Iceland (also doesn’t count, but only because I never left the airport, not because I had any flings. Unfortunate, and may still be remedied on a future trip.)
    • Mexico (enough to know basic niceties in Spanish)
    • Bermuda (once, for work, but it’s a lovely island)
    • Trinidad and Tobago (Doubles are fabulous and the people are so kind)

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