Smug Marrieds: The Devoted Wife

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I am a devoted wife. I know this because Chicken Soup For the Soul: Devotional Stories for Wives just accepted one of my stories for inclusion in their book. If only acceptance came with a little "devoted wife" badge I could pull out and show people. 

Remember this blog post?


This is the one where Blair referred to me as a Skeksis from The Dark Crystal. The story I submitted is a slightly modified version. Finally, our love of muppets, Jim Henson and lack of inhibition around referring to each other as beaked, scaly creatures is paying off. 

Once the book comes out, I'm sure I'll be signing all my book copies, Dena - The Devoted Wife.

Cheers.

Leaving Freelance For Full-Time Work

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Big announcement in the world of Dena: I have accepted a position as a communications specialist (fancy phrase for "writer") with The Sales Factory, a research-based strategic marketing firm in Greensboro, NC. 

"What?!" you say. "Is it the apocalypse?"  

Nope. The stars simply aligned to bring everything together in what, looking back, is an amazing fit of various pieces of the life puzzle. 

You know we've moved to Greensboro. What I haven't posted is that we moved into the new home on a Wednesday and I started my new job the following Monday. House, job, life... boom. It was quite a week. 

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Shameless Flirting

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I'm sitting in Starbucks and it's packed. I'm at a small round table by the door and the only open table in the house is a two-top so close to my table it's practically on top of it. Two slow-talking southern gentlemen in jeans and rain jackets who I'm guessing are early to mid 70's just approached with their coffee. 

"Mind if we sit there?" they drawled, nodding toward the table. 

"Not at all," I said. "I was hoping two good-looking men would come along and sit by me."

They perked up, smiling. "Well, I'm just sorry he's one of your options," said one, nodding toward his friend as they squeezed in at the table. 

"Do you like oatmeal-raisin cookies?" asked the friend, ignoring his friend's barb. "'Cause I have two in this bag and I'm more inclined to share with you then this fella here." 

I politely declined the cookie but sat and chatted with the two of them for a few minutes about running, gyms, the weather. The one man kept trying to share his oatmeal-raisin cookie with me. 

"Lord girl, you ain't got an ounce of fat on you. You need this cookie."  

Now they're sitting next to me, quietly discussing life - one is picking his dog up from the vet and can't wait to have him home and the other is having some trouble with his alternator in his truck. 

Lovely men, and a lovely break for me on this rainy day.