See your scars as proof that you made it…not evidence that you almost didn’t.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012


For all of the drama and the hullabaloo, I must say, it’s worth it. Love I mean. Feeling the joy and the happiness that comes along with loving someone. I’ve said it before and I'll say it again. Any story that’s worth being told usually has something to do with love. Love of Country, love between a parent and a child, that all-consuming love between a man and a woman. It really can be an amazing thing.

I played matchmaker today and set up two folks who really hit it off (Like, duh, I knew they would) and to watch them watch each other was truly a privilege. I would see him sneaking glances at her, or her peering over her tea glass at him with a genuine smile. It was heartwarming.

Those of us who have been in relationships for a long time (10 year club – what-what) can forget that. How amazing it was when we found each other. The excitement we felt when we knew we would get to see each other. Myron and I were both coming out of relationships where we lived with the person so were both living at home when we met. We used to get a hotel, just to be able to sleep together. And I don’t mean have booty (though, yeah, we did that too!) I mean, just to be near each other.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Christy Trujillo, the happily incurable romantic. <3>
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Thursday, November 15, 2012


I was born with congestive heart failure, did you know that? The fourth chamber of my heart wasn’t formed and I almost died. They kept me in the hospital waiting until I was strong enough for surgery and people were praying for me around the clock, so I’ve been told. Then, one day, yep…you guessed it…a miracle. My heart healed on its own. The fourth chamber is weaker than the others. I had to have tests done every six months until I was five, and wear an ID bracelet until I was 19. If you catch my mom in the right mood, she’ll still cry telling the story. I also gave it the old college try myself when I was seventeen, but alas, I never could cut a straight line.

My point? That’s twice. Twice that I cheated death, twice that I was allowed to stay here instead of move on to wherever it is we go. As grateful as you’re currently thinking I should be, what you’re ignoring is the pressure that can put on a girl. You know, to do something great, be something great. I thought I was on the right track for a while there, but here we are and surprise, surprise, I’m not and I haven’t.

What a waste.
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Thursday, November 8, 2012


Got bad news today. We are in fact losing the house. I’m pretty upset. I mean, it’s not like it’s surprise you didn’t pay your mortgage for a few months so we’re taking our house back, no I get that. I’m mad at the whole situation, which shockingly, has nothing to do with me. My husband lost his job. My husband had to pay his child support. My husband hired a quack attorney. We’ve fought about it, so there’s no point in beating a dead horse. But I’m still not over it and now I feel like all those feelings are fresh and I’m really mad all over again. We have to move ASAP so NANO? Done. Who has time to write a novel when they have to pack and move a 4 bedroom house? No one. The most I can hope for is to finish up PwF edits and stare at it while it collects dust waiting to be queried.

We’re also crazy busy at work and I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a deadline driven situation but it’s freaking stressful. It’s like a weight that settles over you and there’s nothing you can do to get out from underneath it. Does something need to change? Probably. But it won’t.

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