The life cycle of a post is different for each author. Some people type furiously, and click publish. Other people are more methodical, and choose to start with an outline and work from there. My process begins with with my undiagnosed case of ADD, and ends in random phrases jotted down in a notebook.

A notebook is a writer’s best friend, and you should have one with you at all times. My mind races a mile a minute, and I get posts for ideas all the times. Sometimes it’s just the title, other times it’s one sentence that will fuel an entire 800 word rant. Everything needs to be written down somewhere, and my thoughts always end up in my trusty notebook, on post-it notes, or on my arm.

Here’s a “behind the scenes” look at what happens before I submit my posts to the WordPress gods for public consumption. If you’re curious as to the finished piece which came from the scribblings on the notebook picture, you can click here.

All I need is a copy of Catcher of Rye in my backpack, and I’m a criminal profiler’s prime suspect

My initiation tats for the WordPress gang I joined

When I’m ready to write a post I take my ideas, and turn phrases into sentences into paragraphs. I write the meat of the post first, then the beginning, then the end. I don’t understand how you can write an intro without knowing where the story goes; conversely, how you write a closing paragraph without knowing where you’ve been? That’s my method anyway…

I want to give a shout-out to two dear friends who inspired this post in full by giving their readers glimpses into the work which goes into their crafts.

TJ Lubrano is…well, she’s a pirate and an artist and a lover of cupcakes. She likes to do the ZOING dance (don’t ask me, I think it’s a thing from The Netherlands) and watches Disney movies. She’s loves to participate in all forms of mirth and merriment. She’s absolutely adorable in every way possible, and her art is a whimsical explosion of color. Her blog A Look in a Creative Mind is devoted to showing you her artistic process, and trust me when I say that there is no way you can look at her doodles and not smile.

Bill Friday is one of my favorite people in the world. He likes breaded meat (how has our friendship lasted this long?) and loves watching horror films. He’s a coffee addict, and sucks at putting Ikea furniture together. He is a phenomenal writer, and an even better friend. His blog It’s Always Friday is a collection of angsty goodness, poetry, life reflections and the occasional look into the screenplay he’s writing. This is his “man behind the curtain” post, and I think you’ll love his  sentiments just as much as I did.

It was fun writing this because I’ve never actually thought about my process for making a post happen. I just sort of do it, and never give it a second thought. I encourage any of you to examine this on your own blogs, but if you do, I demand that you give me credit, and use the phrase “earth-shatteringly sexy” somewhere in your description of me.

Oh, and lastly, I want to apologize for any of you who thought this post might be about that movie starring Rachel McWhatsherface and Ryan Whythehellisheeverywherethesedays. I’m not sorry I mislead you, but I am sorry you were interested in reading about that film.

Things we have in common:

• We both kill plants (even a cactus)
• We both like to destroy our livers with lots of booze
• We are both named Jen
• We both love Ikea
• We both love the idea of taking a bath, but get bored once we’re in the tub
• We both love talking about eating
• We are both so sexy that our faces are illegal in 82 countries

Without further ado, I’d like you to introduce you to the real thunder from down under. Her name is Jen, and you can find her over at The Modern Woman’s Society. She’s an insanely cool blogger, and you’d benefit from checking out her site. She talks about liquor, food, life lessons, and she also takes the most amazing photos. Do your life a favor and go read her posts.

She packed her bags, and made the long journey to the Pacific Northwest so we could hang out for bit. I’ve got to be honest, the Portland area hasn’t been the same since.

It was hot out so we bought Slurpees. She had trouble understanding the sizes because America is lame and measures things in ounces:

My friend Steven kept hitting on her when we went out to dinner. I told him she was married, but her animal magnetism was too much for him:

She wanted to experience American cuisine at its finest, so I bought her some FREEDOM FRIES:

We had a mustache growing contest which she won. I could only grow a Pervert Mustache, but she rocked that full handlebar like a champion:

After one too many drinks, we put on a talent show for the rest of the bar patrons. This is us during our Salt-N-Pepa “Shoop” performance:

I promised her I’d eat Vegemite (a.k.a. the food of the devil) to make her feel at home, but it was out of stock. THANK GOD:

She had been trying to convince me to become infected with a case of the babies, and this was her subtle way of hinting at it. Sorry darling, but as I’ve said here, my ovaries are out of order:

Thanks for coming to visit me! You know I love you to pieces, and you’re welcome back anytime.

If YOU would like to be a Team Tonic Troublemaker, please e-mail me at: sipsofjenandtonic@gmail.com. I promise I don’t bite…unless you’re into that sort of thing.

Want to stalk me on the interwebz instead? Come hang out with me on Facebook or Twitter. It’s where all the cool kids are at.

]]> http://sipsofjenandtonic.com/2012/05/20/troublemaker-the-saucy-aussie/feed/ 42 jenandtonik IMG_5711 IMG_5745 IMG_5747 IMG_5801 IMG_5786 IMG_5751 IMG_5755 http://sipsofjenandtonic.com/2012/05/18/the-overly-friendly-skies/ http://sipsofjenandtonic.com/2012/05/18/the-overly-friendly-skies/#comments Fri, 18 May 2012 16:00:06 +0000 Jen and Tonic http://sipsofjenandtonic.com/?p=1034 ]]>

Credit: Mercola

I recently went on a business trip to the East Coast. Let me preface this entire story by saying that I don’t dig business travel in the least bit. Wearing fancy adult clothes (I’m a Pajama Jeans kinda girl) is not my idea of a good time, and well, you all know how I feel about work meetings. Additionally, the travel itself is pretty bogus. It usually involves getting up at an ungodly hour just so some disgruntled TSA agent can take a picture of my highly undesirable silhouette. I don’t even like those people seeing my fake weight when they check my license, why would I want them taking a peek at the hot mess that is my physique? Oh well, their funeral.

But I digress…

I kind of figured that the flight there would blow. I got stuck in a middle seat which means not only would I get screwed on leg space, but I could also toss any chance of elbow room out the window. If I was taking a hopper flight it wouldn’t have been so bad, but being sandwiched between two strangers for that long wasn’t something I’d done since college.

I got on the flight, and I could tell the guy to the right of me was nervous. He was sweating, tapping his foot nonstop, and biting his fingernails so much that I was convinced he’d eventually chew down to the knuckle. At some point I was hoping he was just a nervous flyer otherwise his behavior would have been indicative of a terrorist. Once he popped some pills he had in his bag he calmed down and went to sleep.

About 30 or so minutes into the flight the guy to the left of me pulled out sheet music, and began scribbling things all over the pages. He was making comments and corrections to the music, and I was intrigued by the passion with which he was making notations. He stopped working once the drink cart came around, and I saw it as my opportunity to ask him about what he was doing.

Big mistake. This man proceeded to talk for almost two hours. Nonstop. Honestly, at one point, I thought he was either bionic or undead because it didn’t appear that he was taking any breaths.

He became a music teacher after suffering from a career ending injury to one of his hands. Was he attacked by a shark while surfing? Did he accidentally break his wrist trying to save a toddler from drowning? Were there severe burns on his hand from a campfire gone awry? No, his career ended after he slammed his pinky  finger into a kitchen drawer. I’m not kidding.

The conversation went like this:

Me: “So, I see you’re making all sorts of notes on that sheet music. I take it you’re a musician, or a teacher?”

Him: “Blah blah blabiddy I’m going to take up the whole damn flight telling you my life story blah blah divorce blah music school blah erectile dysfunction blah I once killed a man.”

Me: “Oh, wow. Will your ex-wife be played by Valerie Bertinelli when this is made into a Lifetime Original Movie?”

Him: “MY PINKY GOT KINKY AND NOW PLAYS PIANO STINKY. Sadsies!”

I really wanted out of the conversation, but I could tell he needed to unload some of this baggage on someone. So, I let him talk. And talk. And talk….until he worked his bladder into a frenzy and had to use the restroom.

I was happy when he got back to his seat and fell asleep almost immediately. I guess free therapy and draining your snake will do that to a guy. I was elated that our conversation was over…until I realized that I hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet. I’m telling you, nothing makes you have to pee quite like being trapped in a middle seat on an airplane does.

There was no way I was waking this motormouth up. So I sat there and let my urine reserve build. I checked the clock every few minutes to see how long until we touched down. Only 2 hours. Only 1 hour and 48 minutes. Only 1 hour and 36 minutes. At one point I considered just peeing my pants, but ultimately decided to continue the risk of giving myself a bladder infection.

All is well that ends well because I made it to the airport, and was able to relieve myself. I survived the week of meetings, and got home safely. The next time I travel I’ll be a bit smarter about it. I’ll bring a pair of headphones. I’ll bring a book. I’ll learn sign language and pretend I’m hard of hearing. I’ll do anything but ask the person next to me what he’s working on.

Reblogged from Sweet Mother:

• 

First a note:  Happy Mother’s day to all, from your favorite CHILDLESS MOMMY BLOGGER, ME!  Second, I know a lot of you have given me some great awards and I have not, as of yet, had time to respond to them, but I promise I will in some way.  So, thank you and know that a “fun with awards” type post is on the way.

Read more… 639 more words

Sweet Mother wrote a post about me, and I loved it so much I almost cried. Almost. I'm not a sissy. PLEASE check it out, and make sure to follow SM. She's a blogging rockstar.

E-mail me, yo: SipsofJenandTonic@gmail.com

Thanks again you sexy beasts!