Before diving into the candy, I have to make a confession.  Military uniforms don’t scream sexy! to me.  Don’t sharpen your pitchforks just yet, I have a good reason.  Every male member of my immediate family is or was in the military.  So the uniform doesn’t represent sex appeal to me, for which we should all be extremely grateful.  I think I’m as well-equipped as the next maniac to appreciate man candy in any form, however, and I’ll get to that portion of the blog momentarily.  Before the ‘dessert’, I’m going to rush through a quick military main course to assuage my family’s collective conscience (and my own).

Muscles and brains - the perfect man DOES exist!

Veterans’ Day is something of a big deal for me and mine.  I have two older brothers who’ve both been in and out of the Middle East for years.  The pictures of men in the desert, while undeniably attractive, also tend to make me sad and little scared for the guys (and girls – but this isn’t ‘mammary candy monday’) over there.  The truth of the military is that not all who serve are ‘soldiers’.  There are mechanics, businessmen, doctors, lawyers, engineers, and strategists to name a few.  My dad, who retired a full colonel in the Air Force some years ago, was a public relations officer and never saw combat.  The real military does as many humanitarian tasks, such as organizing the building of modern water/sewer systems Iraq, as it does jobs requiring weapons use.

Also, though the Army Rangers and Navy Seals get all the publicity, there are other special forces.  The Air Force alone has Combat Control and Pararescue to its credit.  By the way, Pararescue is seriously badass… just sayin’.  Speaking of the Air Force, before I get to the candy portion, I thought I show you what I usually envision when someone mentions the military: my brothers.  (posted with their permission, of course)

Big Brother #1 - a.k.a. Colonel Bailey the Younger

Big Brother #2 - a.k.a. Lt. Colonel Bailey

And now for the real reason you all visited my site today.  The MAN CANDY!  And what better way to begin that with a … bang.

This guy is ALL OVER the internet. I feel sorry for his girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or whatever.

What do we find sexy about military men?  This question gets asked by a ton of blogs, but no one has a definitive answer.  We know it’s not the utilitarian cut and fit of the uniform, nor the bland colors.  Could it be that the uniform represents stability, responsibility, and a willingness to go through hell for others?  Maybe.

The Navy Seal whose picture launched a romance anthology. Now that's power.

I tend to think we like them better mostly out of uniform.  Is it because the military screams ALPHA! and we all secretly enjoy a little bit of caveman?  Definitely.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fitness and weight requirements; after all, they’ve got to have some muscle and stamina.  Who doesn’t enjoy stamina, right?

His guns don't need bullets

I think it has a little something to do with all of these.  We all like heroes and hard bodies, men willing to take on the world, and general badassness (I don’t think that’s a real word, but work with me).  Of course, I also saw this explanation on the web:

The Reason Why Women Love Military Men???

its NOT the UNIFORM.

They can cook, clean, make beds, and sew, but above all; 

they know how to follow orders 

Hopefully, we’re all agreed that it doesn’t matter what cocktail of characteristics revs our engines.  Regardless of the mix of responsibility and muscled cave man, we love our military men.  I’d like to think I found a few pictures for every taste, but you tell me.

I don't think he needs a caption

*thud*

Warning: consuming this much candy may cause heart palpitations! 

And don’t forget to brush after enjoying such sweetness.  Tune in to Twitter at 9/8pm central with the hashtag #mancandymonday for more delicious military men.  Happy Man Candy Monday!

Cash for the trip. Such pretty money, ready to be spent

**Warning to picky readers: this is epically long and not particularly proofread.  Please excuse typos and random verb tense changes.  Thanks.**

I have no legitimate excuses for the lag in posts.  I have allowed myself to get sucked into the daily grind and other people’s blogs, but no more!  For your perusal, possible drool, and perhaps envy, (ooh! alliteration!) I’m going to blog about my fabulous vacation.  My husband, who shall hereafter be called White Knight (or WK), and I went on an eight-day trip to the Scottish Highlands.  Alone.  Those of you with children will understand the magnitude of that one word.  Other than a four-day (including travel) jaunt to San Francisco over three years ago, this is the only trip we’ve taken alone and just for fun since our honeymoon.  No work obligations, no friends or family to include in the schedule.  The honeymoon was almost 13 years ago.  You might say I was a bit excited to go.  To illustrate, I was asked my purpose for being in Scotland by the customs agent in London (before our flight to Edinburgh).  ”Vacation!”  Now, one might assume that I chirped or squealed that word in my excitement.  Nope.  I projected that sucker like I was a fan at a football game chanting yells.  No bubbly-cute enthusiasm from me.  It was a full-on rabid, slightly alarming, and very loud affirmation of giddiness.  They may have heard me back in the states.

Pet Peeves.  Why are they called that anyway?  Does ‘pet’ mean it’s close to our hearts?  I’d rather my peeves be as far as possible!  The word pet is a happy word for me, conjuring thoughts of my purr-y children and my husband stroking my hair.  It’s an oxymoron to put it with such a negative word as ‘peeve’.  Alas, the term is pretty fixed in the lexicon, so we’ll just have to roll with it.

We’ve all got irritants.  Some are huge in our psyche like enormous shadowy Goliaths.  Others only ruffle our feathers, annoying but tolerable.  This is just a little taste of my personal peeves.  They are many and varied, but I don’t think they’re particularly unique.  You may find yourself in this post.  Actually, it’d be lovely to find I had company in my vexations.

I have put off this post for WEEKS.  But as I ‘hurry up and wait’ at the airport today, I’ve run out of excuses.  Well, not really.  I’ve got an endless supply of those.  I’m just a little perturbed at myself for procrastinating so long.  You see, I’ve been in a more or less constant wrestling match with the demon ‘doubt’.  Hmmm.  Sounds like a Piers Anthony character from Xanth.  The Demon Doubt.  He’s a bugger.

Everyone struggles with this guy.  He’s ubiquitous and brutal.  I know some tactics for fending him off, but they’re only moderately successful at the best of times.  Doubt is one of my worst personal dragons to slay, the biggest bog that sucks me down, and the largest roadblock in my path.  So.  Now what?

The time has come to suit up and charge this terrible beast.  To embrace my own inability to appreciate my work and just say ‘screw it’.  I’m going to put myself out there no matter how foolish I feel doing it.  No matter how terrified I am of being smacked down.  I’m going to saddle up my horse, put an old pot on my head, and go charging at the enemy of doubt.  At this point, as I’m on my way to RWA Nationals, a hodgepodge of romance writers both published and not, I haven’t any other  choice.

That sounds so deliciously pervy, doesn’t it?  Actually, I was referring to ‘tongues’ as in languages.  I had to get your attention somehow, right?  Anyhoo.  Today’s rather belated post is all about the weirdness of words’ tendency to change over time, or evolve.  Also, the multiple meanings of words both within a culture and across cultures.  Now, there are whole college programs devoted to this topic, so don’t expect me to turn into a professor here.  I’m just exploring for the sake of honing my own word play.  So, with that in mind, come play with me.  (Not that way!  Gutter minds…)

WARNING:  This post is filled with innuendo and potentially offensive humor.  If sexual humor or pervy comments offend you, or if you are underage, please skip this post.  Thanks.

Whew.  Now that I’ve gotten the ‘cover your ass’ portion of the post out of the way, I’m going to apologize for the delay in posting.  While I’ve never promised specific updates, I usually try to post weekly.  Oops.  This is likely the first of many occasions where I apologize for being out of touch.  And on we go…

So why the disclaimer?  I’m about to rant is why.  I’m currently in that particular brand of parenting hell where your child is only interested in one t.v. show, corresponding toys, books, etc.  To be specific, my toddler is obsessed with Strawberry Shortcake.  Ugh.

You may think I should embrace the nostalgia of this.  I used to have all these toys, though they look very different now.  I used to love everything about Strawberry Shortcake.  Now, I feel lots of sympathy for and a bit of guilt about my poor mother.  I feel her pain.  These shows are unbelievably banal.  And what happens if you wind up watching them over and over and over and over?  Well, if you’re me, you notice a lot of inappropriate stuff.

It’s been brought to my attention that I get a wee bit defensive when trying to categorize my writing.  I write light-hearted and feel-good contemporary romance.  This is not to say that I don’t enjoy darker stories, or paranormal romance, or mystery stories of all kinds.  I just can’t write those stories.  My ‘voice’, as the author-types call it, lends itself to a humorous turn of phrase.  Also, all the plots drifting around my head seem to revolve around regular interactions between people to whom I can personally relate.  This is why the tag line on my home page includes the phrase ‘with heroines that could be your friends’.

I find myself endlessly trying to explain what ‘fluff’ writing actually is to people not in the business.  Fluff doesn’t imply a lack of plot or conflict.  I like to think my stuff has both.  It does involve versions of real people trying to work out real problems in developing relationships.  It can be long on emotion and/or humor.

It is most definitely not the same thing as ‘sap’.  Sappy stories are disturbingly sweet and make you long for your toothbrush by the end.  Sap stories aren’t necessarily interested in realism when it comes to character flaws or personal interactions.

blooming madly

Spring.  The season of sunshine and bunnies, flowers and rainbows.  At least, that’s the Disney version.  It’s also the season of torrential rains, blustery winds, and erratic temperatures.  If Mother Nature were truly human, this would be the time that most clearly shows she’s got a raging case of multiple personality.  Nature’s not the only inconsistent wonder of spring, but let’s start there anyway.

Nature is two-faced at the best of times, but spring is epic in its dichotomy.  Blooming flowers and budding trees vs. enough pollen to turn my black car a dingy yellow.  Yesterday, it was 76°F at 8:30am, the high was in the low 80s, and it was cloudy, windy, and humid.  Today: 43° at 8:30am, high in the upper 60s, and sunny, crisp with a light breeze.  I often feel like you should have a morning outfit and an afternoon outfit for kids tis time of year.  Just to clarify, 43° is really cold for southern Louisiana in April.  I’ve already packed up the coats and fleece blankets.  Of course, the forecasted high for this weekend is 88°; welcome to spring weather.

Those of you who know me will realize that any post on today’s date will NOT be light-hearted.  For those who don’t know me well or at all, today is my second daughter’s birthday.  What should be a joyous occasion is instead a grim anniversary.  My lovely Lucy was born a sleeping, perfect little cherub four years ago.

I am a lover of analogies.  As a science teacher, they were my favorite tool to explain abstract concepts to teenagers still struggling to understand their own lives, much less intricacies of biology and chemistry.  So bear with me as I reflect on my experience of grief.  This analogy is not perfect, none are, but I hope it will explain things in a way that makes sense.  Maybe someone will find this helpful.  Just keep in mind that this is my experience and everyone is different…

Savory, decadent, luscious…

All oral delights.  No, not a mystery food.  Not anything that would rate this post NC-17, though it’s tempting to go off on a tangent for that.  I mean the words themselves.  I am an acknowledged word lover.  I adore the way some words roll around in my mouth before coming out.  I like the feel and sound of them on my tongue.  I guess that makes me a bit of a hedonist writer and reader.

I like to ask other authors what their favorite words are just in a sensory way.  Not in terms of definition, but in terms of feel.  As a science nerd, I embrace all kinds of odd words.  Metamorphosis is one I can’t resist saying over and over.  ’Neotony’ is good.  I even like the word petri.   Peeeee-treeeee.  That one gives me adolescent fits of giggles if I’m honest.  Other giggle-inducers include ‘penal’, ‘booger’, ‘coochie’, ‘masticate’, ‘pontoon’, and ‘munch’.  I particularly like ‘munch’, since it’s almost more sound effect then word.  Some just plain sound funny, some sound suggestive, and some have inexplicable funny connotations just for me.

As a writer, word choice is critical.  Words that feel good spoken are words I like to use.  They tend to be descriptive in so many ways.  For example, take the word ‘exhilarating’.  Not just exciting or wonderful or amazing, but some strange juxtaposition (there’s another fun one) of all three.  Exhilarating sounds like I’d imagine sky-diving feels… if you’re not afraid of heights, like I am.  To me, it sounds breathless just coming out of your mouth, which is great for a romance writer.  Another example: vigorous.  I always hear Catherine Zeta-Jones in the movie Zorro saying, “He was very… vee-gorous.  Verry vee-gorous.”  How can you not love that one?