Author Alanea Alder Blog

Fat to Sexy in 2.2 Seconds

Tue, 17 May 2016 21:14:00 GMT

My Brother’s Keeper Teaser #1

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:17:00 GMT

My Savior Teaser #1

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:16:00 GMT

My Healer Teaser #1

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:15:00 GMT

My Protector Teaser #1

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:14:00 GMT

My Commander Teaser #2

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:11:00 GMT

My Commander Teaser #1

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:10:00 GMT

Rambling Will Happen

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:08:00 GMT

Typical Saturday Night at My House

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:05:00 GMT

I posted this a while ago, but it still holds true. Below depicts an average night at my house.

Okay so these bad boys have a story. It’s long so get comfortable.

So I’m upstairs doing my thing, posting on Facebook, writing, cursing Tumblr templates, you know the norm. When I’m like, man I’m kinda hungry and its dark out. Shit. It’s like 10pm. So I turn on the office light and walk my happy self downstairs dreaming of the frozen processed chicken patty that is about to become my happy place when I realize its dark in my kitchen.

That may be normal for most of you but not me.

I live alone, that bad boy is on all the time. I’m like flip, flip, flipflipflipflip!!!
Dammit!

So I turn on the florescent overhead light and wince, the light,, the light. I look over the sink at the normal light that is usually on and I’m feeling betrayed. As I’m looking up I’m like Holy Shit,, that’s kinda high up. I have like 9 foot ceilings. I am like 5’3. Now I’m really grouchy, because I don’t think my short ass is going to be able to even reach this thing without the 40lb aluminum ladder that is conveniently behind my car. Did I mention I was hungry?

I get some crushed ice in my tumbler so that when my tea is done, I’ll be ready to make my iced tea.

As its snowing in my tumbler I get the great idea to make sure I have a lightbulb first. So feeling really proud of myself I go upstairs and sure enough I have a lightbulb. I walk back downstairs and look at this height difference again. Then I figure, I might as well try the step stool, if it doesn’t work I’ve only wasted like 1 minute, but if I could reach I don’t have to wrestle with the ladder.

So I get my step stool out (same trusty step stool that helped me when I was hanging the Christmas lights and fighting my war with the out of season asshole bees– another story)

Score! I can reach……sort of. The step stool basically helped me to stand on the counter, which I’m kinda leary of because it has me straddling my 33” wide double capacity sink.

So I’m pulling on the globe and twisting it, only to discover there is a screw. In the background I hear my cat digging in my candy stash in the dining room. So I’m now in a rush to get this screw undone and get this light bulb in before he gets past a wrapper and into chocolate.

I get the globe off and Son of a Bitch! It isn’t one largish light bulb but two little ones. My bright idea to check to see if I had a light bulb has back fired.

So I unscrew the two little ones and climb down. I go chase Bailey out of the candy and head back upstairs. I dig through my stash and find that I do have two little light bulbs. Yes! My “Just In Case” living pays off now and then.

So I go back downstairs and screw in the new light bulbs and put the globe thing back on. Flip the switch and let there be light! There is the familiar glow that has illuminated my kitchen for the past two years!

I put the step stool back in the garage and put my mug in the microwave to make a cup of tea for my tumbler of iced tea. I get out my frozen chicken patties and when the water is done I pop them into the microwave. As they are cooking and the tea bags are steeping I get my hamburger buns out and begin to add my condiments.

Chicken Sandwich is always= Miracle Whip + Ketchup + Ovals (dill pickles)

I’m almost out of Miracle Whip, I check the date, Aug 13. Damn it. I trudge back to the garage and get a new Miracle Whip. Open up the new Miracle whip and coat my hamburger bun. Its not good unless its messy right?

I open up my Ovals and start digging into the jar, I am of course too lazy to dirty a fork and since its the last of the pickles I just use my fingers. Then my hand sort of gets stuck. Microwave goes off BEEP BEEP BEEP Patties are done.

I’m kinda laughing at myself and working my hand lose, because my fingers are starting to hurt because the pickle juice is freaking cold.

I get my hand out of the jar. BEEP BEEP BEEP. Patties are done.

I rinse off my hand and pour the pickle juice down the drain before throwing the jar away. Now time for ketchup. Squirt! Its the most pathetic squirt in the history of ketchup. Mother Hummer!!!!

Back to the garage I go and get a spare ketchup. BEEP BEEP BEEP, patties are done.

I grrrr at the microwave as I’m using my teeth to get that little seal off from under the cap. I finally am able to get my ketchup! I put the ketchup away.

Buns are ready for chicken.

I look over and my tea looks as dark as coffee. Shit! I forgot it was steeping. So I hurry over and get the sugar down. Not paying attention I pour one tablespoon of sugar over the floating tea bag. Dammit!

BEEP BEEP BEEP. You know what? FUCK YOU MICROWAVE I KNOW THE GOD DAMN PATTIES ARE DONE!!!!

In my rush to get to the tea bags I drop my half filled sugar spoon on the rug. I ignore it and begin to press the tea bag against the side of the mug. I finally lift the tea bags out and throw them away. I pick up the rug and dump the sugar into the sink. I add the sugar to my mug and stir until it dissolves and pour it over my crushed ice.

BEEP BEEP BEEP **sob sob sob**

I finally get over to the microwave pull out my chicken patties and put them on the bun.

Phew

All I wanted was a damn sandwich!

Die! Goose! Die!

Sun, 21 Feb 2016 02:03:00 GMT

So those of you who know me, know that I am an unabashed animal lover. I pick up earthworms off of hot pavement, I spoil my cat rotten and I damn near needed therapy when I accidentally ran over a baby bird mowing my backyard. (That coupled with the discovery of a tick on my clothes prompted for extra overtime so I can pay a nice college boy to mow my lawn, that was two years ago).

Anyway. I love animals.

Except Geese. I hate those bastards with a passion. Now there is a caveat. I love goslings. They are an exception since they are so damn cute, but once they become adults all bets are off. Once they mature they become assholes.

The picture above is the asshole goose that has become the bane of my existence.

For the past two years, every spring, I live in fear. Every spring this goose’s idiotic mate lays eggs right near the entrance of the building where I work and this macho featherbrain has to protect every square inch in a two mile radius.

Every spring its the same thing. Early April we show up to work and long, green cylinder tubes of goose shit cover nearly every inch of the walkways leading up to the building. By mid April KillerGoose starts making his rounds. Last year I was walking up to the door at work and he steps onto the sidewalk in front of me. I’m sipping my Iced Caramel Machiatto and feeling pretty good because I’m kinda early. I take a few steps and all cute like I’m like “Shoo shoo”.

Wrong.Fucking. Idea.

This goose becomes something out of a horror movie. He opens that god awful mouth and this demon like hiss erupts. My blood runs cold. It is only then do I realize that my dumb 5’3 self isn’t much taller or bigger than this monster. He opens up his wings and hisses again.

Fuck.This!

I, homo sapien, top of the food chain with a genius level IQ back down from a damn goose. I walk the long way around to the door completely rattled. Evil Bastid!

This year I’m thinking that he has moved to Florida, or hopefully got hit by a car and I would be safe. But no! He was there. Waiting. I get out of my car and I’m like. That can’t be the same bird. Now mind you I am across the lawn looking at him. I shut my car door and his little head swivels around and he stares me down with his beady eyes. He recognizes me! I know he does. He follows my steps all the way to the door. Heart racing I rush inside and pull the door shut behind me.

I hate geese, I really do, but I cannot do anything about it. If this spawn of Satan flies at me and I “happen” to be carrying a baseball bat for protection, and kill this sucker I could be facing fines! Not little fines either the fines range from $5,000 to $10,000 dollars!

Didn’t these things used to be dinner? Christmas Goose right? Wrong! As of 1918 these bastards were under Federal protection.

All I can do is pray that the babies hatch soon and they head to water. Once they are on the move they will disrupt traffic with their clumsy drunken waddle. You have to wait for each dumb bird of the flock to figure out they want to cross the street. It can take 5-15 minutes for them all to get across. That is if you’re lucky and you’re not waiting for the brain damaged one who wants to walk North/South instead of East/West. I love spring, but I hate geese!!!

Die Goose Die!

“Canada Geese are protected under the Federal Migratory Bird Act of 1918 . This Act makes it illegal to harm or injure a goose and damage or move its eggs and nest, without a Federal permit. Not complying with the Federal Act can result in fines ranging from $5,000 to $10,000 and this also applies to an untrained dog’s actions.”

Baby Days Continued

Mon, 17 Mar 2014 02:03:00 GMT

Rebecca’s log Stardate 67671.9

In college, I had four really close friends. We would hang out, eat, study, and party together. Cassandra was the leader, she made sure we all made it back from parties and we weren’t dancing naked on top of bars. Abby was encouraging us to dance naked on bars. Camille was our fashion guru, she could coordinate everything, and Meg would be the one mixing up our next shots in lab beakers for the highest alcohol content. Staying up for like 48 hours was no biggie. Now? I would have better luck winning the lottery. BooBear seems to have this uncanny ability to know when I am just about to fall asleep that’s when he wakes up and starts making noise. Before he was born I would be shocked at people’s posts on Facebook where they joke about putting whiskey in their kid’s bottle or slip them some infant Benadryl to get them to go to sleep. Me? I’m checking on what would be a normal dose for shifter babies. Doc Clayboure was not amused at my inquires. And if he ever reads this no Felix doesn’t count, you can fuck him into submission, BooBear just stares at me grinning as if to say “What are we doing next Mama?”

I’m still off of caffeine since I am trying to breastfeed, this kid has me on lockdown! But seriously, any shifter parents out there, that “happen” to know how much Benadryl to give to a baby bear shifter, message me on Facebook.

Shifter babies are Aliens

Wed, 15 Jan 2014 09:43:00 GMT

Rebecca’s log Stardate 67505.7

I continue to observe my little darling around the clock. He has to be the cutest baby I have ever seen, of course I could be a little biased. That being said, I have decided to start keeping track of his daily habits. Ma has said that his development is normal for shifter babies but I’m not convinced.

Wednesday- I read and re-read What to Expect The First Year. I decided to use the book as fire starting material. It is absolutely useless. For example. A human 1 month old will be able to turn its head but not be able to support their head upright. My little BooBear is already pushing himself up and looking around. He freaks Aleks out. Aleks says that the baby’s eyes follow him everywhere as if stalking him. *Insert eye roll here*. BooBear growls all the time now. At first Aleks was strutting around here like a proud Papa, now he’s getting concerned that the baby only seems to growl when Aleks gets close to me. **snicker**

Thursday- We had a play date with baby Lucian. Liam and Aleks were bragging the boys up to each other with Kent interjecting every now and then, which left Sebastian and me playing with the babies. Let me tell you baby toys are boring. I am going to invent more complicated toys for the boys. I swear BooBear just looked at me with the expression that clearly said “This is beneath me!”

Later that morning I almost peed my pants when Liam and Aleks came over, BooBear started growling at Aleks but then a second later was cooing up at Liam. Of course Liam played that up to the hilt. Thank God Liam was holding Lucian at the time. The family room really is too small for them to be rough housing. I think my baby has a wicked sense of humor.

Sunday- Did you know that 1 month old babies aren’t supposed to have senses of humor? I don’t think there is any rhyme or reason to his advancing development. Doc Claybourne assures me that his development is normal and not to come back unless the baby is actually sick. At least Felix was sympathetic he said that BooBear was fine and not to buy too many clothes because he would be growing out of them on a weekly basis.

Hello world!

Thu, 09 Jan 2014 02:51:00 GMT

Rebecca’s Log- Stardate- 67488.6

So, Lachlan made the suggestion that I should keep a journal or a blog documenting my experiences since I am the only human living in Arkadia. So while the baby is asleep I am trying out this blog thing. I went with Word Press since it seemed easy enough to use. Though if I get stuck I told David and Daniel they have to help.

I kinda liked picking out my theme! This one is call Anarcho! I love the little a symbol. Aleks is shaking his head saying its the Anarchy sign, but I don’t care. It looks cool! A for Arkadia lol.

So, what’s it like living in a shifter town when I’m human…

Well kinda like when I was living in a human town really. Everyone is really nice to me, except for that asshole Salsiby. I am sooo tempted to. Never mind. Aleks said anything I put on this blog may later be construed as “Pre-meditated”… let’s just say he is not on my warm and fuzzy list!

But really I don’t see that big a difference living with shifters, except for Aleks, he’s so growly and he snores! LOL

I’m so keeping that on here, I mean, who is really going to read my blog? (Aleks is grumbling)

Overall I recommend living in Arkadia. Everyone is nice and they let you shoot people.

My husband better be quiet and let me write my blog or I will shoot him!

Okay I gotta run, the baby is growling at his daddy and Aleks has a funny look on his face.

Buh bai!