My name is Christina Lee Ralaine Babich Trujillo. No, I didn’t legally keep the Babich but I’m my daddy’s daughter, that’s for sure. People say I’m a little crazy. If they mean crazy as in, not afraid to say what she thinks or ask for what she wants, then yeah, I’m a little crazy. I’m a published author with Devine Destinies out of Canada. The first two books in my series are currently available through Devine Destinies/Amazon/Fictionwise and some other random ebook websites I’ve never heard of. The final book will be out fall 2010. I work for a major staffing firm as a Sales Coordinator and I love my job though I would happily give it up to be a full-time author. Though I am friends with everyone, it is rare that I truly connect with anyone. My brain works on a different frequency than most. You listen to music and hear.. music. I hear the soothing melodies wound around words that cut my soul in half. You read a book and it’s..words. I read a book and my subconscious falters and the line between fiction and reality blurs leaving me breathless and gripping for dry land. If I have loved you, I will love you forever. Even if I tell you that I don’t anymore, even if I tell you I hate you, it’s a lie. Once I have given my love, I cannot rescind the offer, though I wish I could sometimes. In the same token, if you have been on the unfortunate receiving end of my actual and total hate, you will never redeem yourself and it is best to just leave me be. I am a touchy-feely person and hug people I just meet. It doesn’t take a lot to hurt my feelings but it takes a hell of a lot to make up for it once you have. I love my cats. I long to be… content. (See Chase’s blog for the reference) I believe in vampires. That is all. Ask me if you want to know anything else. I'll tell you.
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Monday, February 22, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
In another life..
In another life, we are happy. In another life, things are bright and the sky is always blue, even at night. If tears come, they are tears of joy and shared by all. If words are spoken, they are out of love and from the heart.
In another life, you caught me when I fell and I never hit the ground. My body was never broken; my heart still beats and does not lie motionless at my feet.
In another life, your smile can call the angels and they sit with us under the endless blue sky. They laugh with us and we know that nothing will ever change the way things are.
In another life, it wasn’t so hard to find peace in a chaotic soul. The world moves together, the ocean is her melody, the sky is her harmony, and we were all born knowing the words. We sing at the top of our lungs, unafraid and unashamed, and we are one.
In another life, you love me, and all is right with the world. But that is another life.
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In another life, you caught me when I fell and I never hit the ground. My body was never broken; my heart still beats and does not lie motionless at my feet.
In another life, your smile can call the angels and they sit with us under the endless blue sky. They laugh with us and we know that nothing will ever change the way things are.
In another life, it wasn’t so hard to find peace in a chaotic soul. The world moves together, the ocean is her melody, the sky is her harmony, and we were all born knowing the words. We sing at the top of our lungs, unafraid and unashamed, and we are one.
In another life, you love me, and all is right with the world. But that is another life.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Things I have come to realize
Yeah, I’m a little crazy. Whatever.
No one will ever make me go “awwww” with words that they say to me. It’s just not going to happen. I need to let it go.
There are certain desires I have that will never EVER be satisfied.
God sent Maria to me to keep me from diving my car off of the road.
I will never be happy with my hair. I complain when it is short, I complain when it is long.
Even though my eyes are not green or blue, they are pretty.
If you are not an NYT best selling author, you will never get real credit for being an author.
Not everyone is like me, and it’s a damn shame.
It’s better in Bryceville. Sorry, but it is.
When I really love someone, I love them forever. (This sucks, btw)
When I really hate someone, I hate them forever. (This, I’m okay with)
I don’t like candy harts.
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No one will ever make me go “awwww” with words that they say to me. It’s just not going to happen. I need to let it go.
There are certain desires I have that will never EVER be satisfied.
God sent Maria to me to keep me from diving my car off of the road.
I will never be happy with my hair. I complain when it is short, I complain when it is long.
Even though my eyes are not green or blue, they are pretty.
If you are not an NYT best selling author, you will never get real credit for being an author.
Not everyone is like me, and it’s a damn shame.
It’s better in Bryceville. Sorry, but it is.
When I really love someone, I love them forever. (This sucks, btw)
When I really hate someone, I hate them forever. (This, I’m okay with)
I don’t like candy harts.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Ohh look, I made a video =)
Go here if you can't see the video : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TW7GFJSlx5Y
Monday, February 8, 2010
I am the only me
Being my husband has got to be the toughest job on the planet. No, I’m not mean and I clean and wash clothes (I do not cook for various reasons) and tend to be fairly accommodating but I am really, REALLY demanding in the romance department. There is nothing he or anyone for that matter, can say to me or do for me that I haven’t already thought of and written in a book or a rough draft of a book. Really, he just can’t make me happy in that department. The last time I actually went AWWWW, was the fist time I heard, Most Uncommon Thing by Five Times August, though I had to give up on anyone ever saying that to me. (Okay, there was this one other time but it doesn’t count because he didn’t mean it…something about caring for me on a deeper level BS!) I don’t know what I expect. For him to spout sonnets? To have romantic dinners and lavish vacations? As English was not his first language, sonnets are out of the question and thanks to our kid and child support for his other kids, we don’t have the money for a vacation. I just want.. someone.. to say something to me that moves me. That pushes my heart down and forces my breath to catch in my lungs. Why is that too much to ask? Unfortunately, I have never met anyone like myself. Even the other authors I know seem to have their heads out of the clouds and their feet firmly planted on the this-is-reality-that-is-fiction soil. People just don’t say the things I do, or think the things I do.. or even want the things I do. Lately, I’m stuck in between being a hopeless romantic and an unyielding cynic. Romantic because in my heart, I still am. Cynic because in my head, I know it’s crap. All of it. Things don’t turn out the way they do in my books, people don’t love people the way they do in my books, and people just don’t say the things to each other that they do in my books. Sad.
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