People on my facebook often un-friend me because I love to take photos. I love to take photos of me and everything around me. I want to be a superstar. I am not full of myself like some people, I just like to think I looked pretty at that moment. It isn’t all natural. I have to make an effort to take photos. I have to say I deserve this photo. We spend so much of our lives ignoring ourselves. I just decided one day five years ago that I will never be  this way again. I spent most of my life avoiding the camera. I was not a size 2 or a size 14. I have this one tooth that is like a vampire tooth and I would not smile. I was pale and anemic. After my hysterectomy I started gaining some strength and I looked into the mirror those blue gray eyes pleaded with me to realize the beauty of my soul and of my self and I started my photo journey. When I started putting my pics up I had men chase me and I felt like a celeb on a really good day I get compared to Liz Taylor. I have started using photo editor on my Iphone because I get terrible puffiness under my eyes and it makes me feel so bad. I try my best to hide the flaws and focus on the things models would kill for like my cheekbones  thanks to the Cherokees and the sexy lips that rival any porn star’s collagen injected nasty lips …(LOL). I try so hard to get women to think that they can get up and dig out the foundation and start playing around with their clothes and jewelry and feel pretty. If I have made any woman who was put down or ignored stand up for herself then I wasn’t just playing dress up for nothing !


Has Erotic Lit gone too mainstream?

I have always had a bit of a dirty mind. I am a scorpio. My mom was constantly shocked at my wanting to know more and more about the birds and the bees since I was a baby. I am not going to name any books in particular, because who knows I may write one one day. I just want to talk  about how I don’t like to see these books all over the place with covers boasting “handcuffs and ropes.” I believe that yes, to a point the public who craves erotica should have it..but whatever happened to just oredering these books that make you blush from special places? I don’t like that these books can fall into the hands of a nine year old who sees the word “COCK” (BLUSH) for the first time then searches to find out what one is, what it looks like, how it works etc! It upsets me as a mom to see these books in the aisles of the stores we shop at. The author’s are being celebrated when in the old days they would have been burned at the stake. (BLUSH) I don’t know why I am blushing. Anyway, I want to say that yes…there is a market for these books and it is great that one author in particular is now mega rich and can fly to places I want to go myself, but really folks do we have to have these books within the reach of our children and teenagers.Imagine a teenager getting her hands on these books and goes outside and buys herself some whips and chains…LOL.



Mara Chapter 8

Alex doesn’t have to talk anymore. I want to talk. I don’t know why he was a part of my story. Most of my life, men have tried to take over my life. I am scared. I have lost my life and in many ways I have died. He stole me from Hollywood. He stole me from my career. I feel the baby move inside of me and I know I have never been able to carry a child. I wish I had someone to go to. I used to run to people, beg them to let me stay the night with them. I would cry or talk or play. I never felt like I belonged. I was always a visitor. I want to belong. 

I think of how I can run away from Alexander the rich man with a soft heart. I asked him to marry me, but much of my life has always been make believe. It doesn’t matter to me if we never marry.I question what love is I have been married 3 times. I go and sit next to the large window where I can see the ocean. I grew up near the ocean in California. I begin to feel trapped just like anyone would after months in isolation.

I scream at him when he walks into the room and he looks afraid. He is carrying flowers and he smiles.

“I want out of this.” I say. I can feel a rage building inside of me. It has been building for months and the pregnancy is making me more afraid. I don’t want to die in some bloody child birth.

“Mara.” He says and he touches my hands. 

“I want you to take me back to America, I don’t even know where the hell I am!” I shout and I pick up a vase and toss it against the wall.

“Mara!” He is loud now and I want to scratch at him because he looks so smug and all knowing as if he is some God.

“Do you hear me. I came to my senses and I want my life back…” I slump into the sofa and sob into my hands. 

“Alright.” He says defeated.Image

Encourage the difference

I am so happy that many people are now seeing unique individuals as unique and not “Weird” or “Eccentric” There are many of us out there who do not fall under so called Normal catagories. I wanted so badly to be a “normal” Soccer mom who just cooked and chased after the kids, drove them around and was a dainty flower. I would cry a lot because I wanted to put on makeup and take photos at midnight when every one was asleep. I have started to accept myself and I am greatful for the stories I hear about other people out there who are not afraid to be themselves. I think that if we can accept others then many of us can stop hiding and denying who we are. I think when we put on an act we never get to see the real person, who may indeed be an awesome actress or star ! MImage

MARA Chapter 7 (I think)

I started to think I was losing my mind when Mara’s belly began to grow with our child. It seemed as if it was all some kind of crazy dream. I was living with a Goddess and she was going to have my baby. We were hidden from the world. Mara sat next to me on the sofa.

“I never got to keep my babies.” She said to me and lay her head against my chest.

“They always made me…” Her voice trailed off and I kissed her forhead. Tears were streaming down her face.

“I didn’t want to lose my babies. Alex I wanted one. They always told me “It was for the best.” She stands up and puts my hand on her stomach.

“Remember the other day I said let’s get married, so you couldn’t ever get into any trouble about what we did? Well, Let’s get married.” She twirls around dramatically. Her blue eyes are like a little girl’s.

“I will have to figure out how to go about that honey.” I tell her and I begin to panic. The fact is Mara has been assumed dead for a year and 3 months. It still remains a mystery. No body, no suspects. If I take her back they will destroy the woman I want to save.

She hums a song and she winks at me. She has turned on millions of men. Men have dreamt of her and wanted her and I have her. I grab her to me and kiss her with all the feelings I have inside my mortal soul. When I think of all the men who have used her or hurt her I just want to run with her and keep running even if we fall off the edge of the world.

“What’s wrong.” She asks me.

“We can’t keep living like this.You know you made money, you had a career…” I begin to pace the floor and Mara starts to sob.

“You aren’t going to take me back there are you?” She asks me grabbing my hands and kissing them.

“I don’t know baby.” I say and I hold her to me and both our hearts are racing in panic and fear.Image

Kiss the sand

Kiss the sand

pretend I’m there

feel the sun against 

your skin

know my name kiss

the sand but don’t allow it 

on your tongue 

it could choke you 

like a song

sung by jealous 


fire fireflies and dust

kiss the sand

it knows of lust

you don’t know me

I am a gypsy in the rain

you danced with me


when our hearts were the same

kiss the sand

and remember my nameImage

My love of Photography, Modeling and Old Hollywood

I wish I could model. I often day dream about that. Many of you don’t know I joined a modeling agency. They wanted more money than I could make so that fizzled. I never even went back to get my “test photos” that had cost 700 bucks. I decided I would keep taking photos for Face Book and pray no weirdo made up some chubby girl profile and wrote trash about me. (I still worry). I want to tell you that since I was a little girl growing up in Kentucky I loved to take photos. I would beg my mom to let me wrap this one pair of lace curtains around me and snap away. It would take months to get the photos back because back in the 70’s and 80’s we had to mail our negatives to Kodak. I also always always loved old Hollywood. My mom Called Me Liz Taylor. I would be in the bathroom doing my make  up in high school and she would say “Hurry up Liz you gotta go to school.” I buy jewelry that looks old and I miss the 1940’s styles. I have to start buying some of the pinup clothes before I get too fat or too old. I am going to go back on a diet when I get back from vacation. SIGH. I am sitting here my foot on my suitcase. I had packed some glam wigs to take and one of my BFF’s told me , “MARGO IT IS TOO HOT TO WEAR A WIG TO THE BEACH!!” So okay I shall sport my jett black very chopped up, ravaged hair…The real me, but with Loreal hair dye…I will stop blogging for now Goodnite readers and friends.


Welcome To My Blog I am totally real

Sit down have some cheesecake. I want to welcome some of the new members who have joined my blog. I don’t know how many of you actually read me. I am often curious who you are and would love to hear from you. I have noticed that some new members have come along and I want to welcome you to my life. I am a real girl (yes a girl at 40) still with hopes and dreams. I want you to know I am a sensitive person and I hope you won’t judge me too harshly for falling in love and wandering a long life’s dusty roads. I come to my blog as a place of solace so I beg you if you are one of those people who want to condemn me for the love I have had in my heart for people who have came and left me please don’t make me cry and give me speeches. I am so open and so honest that many would call me a foolish romantic. I send you much love,


Clutter Bugs I want out of the paper trap !

I can’t stand my stuff anymore. I just want a truck to come and haul out all the stuff I don’t use. We are trying to get ready for vacation and I want to clean the guest room some. The guest room is where my stuff is. Tons of clothes, jewelry,paintings,wigs, paper, books. I am just so tired of it all.

I haven’t been writing a lot lately. Is it because I am back to being a normal housewife with no admirers? I don’t know. I have been singing alot, crying as I sing about the guy who dumped me without a goodbye. I must tell more stories about the Medium who reads for celebs but was mean to me. He was wanting to hurt me, stick it to me me that Mr. Morrocco didn’t love me. I still hope he is wrong he isn’t God.

Now, back to the clutter situtation. If I have OCD or something of that nature I got the messy one not the clean one. I wish someone would come in and fold the clothes for me or a giant closet would appear and I could enjoy my pretty clothes. I miss blogging so much I wish I Had tons of comments and I still pray to make some friends from this 🙂 I keep telling the truth no matter how absurd it sounds 🙂 I know someone out there gets me.

Leaving for a beach vacation tommorrow 🙂 I hope it will be fun I pray for that. HUGS TO YOU ALL,