It was just a thing.

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Pleasant Van Dusen.

For no reason at all I was thinking about a part of my life that I don’t share with my children or husband – my past life – my very distant past life.

Nobody needs to know my entire history with Pleasant. He was in and out of my life for years in a whirl of passion and adventure that didn’t involve my husband or anyone I associate with now.

It wasn’t a good thing or a bad thing, being with Pleasant. There was some of both. It was just a thing.

I think of dark nights with the sound of silk against silk, back in the day of corsets and hair piled high with jeweled combs. A time of secrets and hunts until the sun came up, then sleep with dreams of doing it all again.

He swept me up in a wave of passion that neither one of us could handle. What started with the stupid ignorance of youth turned bad, then it turned to dust.

I was snapped out of my thoughts with sounds from downstairs of my family. More memories of a different kind of passion with my husband Teddy. What I have with him is something based on reality, but not without that fire that never seems to burn out, fueled with both passion and trust and a bond of partnership that lasts forever. And what I have with Teddy is love. Real love.

But we all have our past lives and our different selves. The scary thing is that I know my children will also start to create their pasts and different selves. They’ll invent and reinvent themselves over and over and over before they settle down on who they really are.

I hope their choices are smart and that their voices stay loud and clear and true. Change isn’t a bad thing. Neither is exploration or odd dark paths without a obvious light at the end. But I don’t want them to ever flounder or drift in an out of control boat only to crash somewhere and have to drag themselves out of the mud. It will happen. That is the nature of life.

I’ve spent the past 18 years teaching my children to make wise choices. So far so good.

I thought of the was Pleasant would run his fangs across my wrists and then look up at me and… well, that is not a story for today or any other day. We all have our secrets to keep to ourselves.

No regrets because memories are just that – moments of the past. Remember but stay in the present, because as all Vampires know, the present can last for a very long time.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Right now I’m in Southern California with my daughter who is visiting the big university she’ll be going to in September. She is signing up for classes, etc, and because of this I’m reposting from August 2015. Enjoy. Have fun. Think. And stay cool in the summer heat. I’m off to the beach.

Burning Question #27: One, two, three, Sasquatch and Thee.

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There she was just a-walkin’ down the street, singin’ “Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do” Snappin’ her fingers and shufflin’ her feet, singin’ “Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do” She looked good (looked good), she looked fine (looked fine) She looked good, she looked fine and I nearly lost my mind

Warning: This week’s burning question might be considered by some to be in poor taste. If you have a delicate whatever just wait for Short Story Sunday and I’ll have a nice sweet romance for you instead of this obnoxious post. Otherwise read on.

Call it Bigfoot. Call them Sasquatches. Call them Yeti. Whatever you call them you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about big hairy folks who live in the woods of Northern California, the Pacific Northwest, Western Canada, Florida, and other places far and wide. They aren’t exactly human, but could be some left over human ancestors. They aren’t apes. They aren’t bears. We don’t know what exactly they are.

To change the subject… I talk a lot about relationships on my blog. I am one of the most popular love letter experts on the Internet (yes I am – that is a fact.) I’m a romantic. But when it comes to relationships I’m also a realist. Relationships aren’t all romance and silly pet names. And there are rules to romance, sort of, maybe. Well not really these days. There were a lot more rules when I was younger, but then again I’m a Vampire so all bets are off…anyway…lets’ get back on track with this thing so you can answer the poll (and be totally grossed out and disturbed.)

When adults date (we’re not talking teens here so don’t get all flipped out) there is what is known as the Third Date Rule. That is where if you make it to the third date THAT is the date where you sleep with each other. Yes, sex, not napping. Napping is good too, but you need to stay awake for this. It is, yes it is, generally accepted that if you make it to the third date you’d better be wearing your matching bra and panty set. You’d better not be wearing your underwear (boxers or briefs guys) that looks like Swiss cheese because of all the holes. It definitely better NOT smell like Swiss cheese either. The third date is the make it or break it night. And seriously, you generally know by a third date if you’re attracted to someone.

Some people also believe that the third date is the big day with those who are abducted by space aliens too. Hey, I’m not making this shit up. I did my research. But that kind of probing is kind of icky so I’m not going to ask you about it. I will NEVER ask you about THAT.

But how about other bipedal types. What about a SASQUATCH. You go out into the woods and see a Squatch. Six months later it comes up to the window in your cabin. You smile at it. It smiles at you. You scream. It runs away. But what if it comes back a few nights later? What if you decide to throw in the towel and get to know each other. What if love is in the air? Does that third date rule apply?

Burning Question #27: Does the third date rule apply to Bigfoot / Sasquatch sightings?

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Jason Momoa out in the wild doing his thing.

If you honestly don’t know about the third date rule CLICK HERE. Please.

From Urban Dictionary:
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Are there any cryptozoologists out there? Any Bigfoot/Squatch hunters? Any Sasquatch bloggers? Any Sasquatch Romance writers? (seriously Sasquatch romance is a thing. Don’t judge. OK if you want to judge or laugh that is ok. Look it up.)

Share your thoughts. 

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Harry from “Harry and the Hendersons.” The best Bigfoot movie ever. It is sooooo cute.

Here is a related story I wrote a while back: CLICK HERE.

But seriously folks I was going to ask about Lex Luther and Lois Lane but I already know the truth about them.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Burning Question #20: Observe the Flirt

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It is now time for me to tease you with another Burning Question!

I like my men to be confident, smart, and flirty.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

But some people have a less than lovely view of flirts. They have a somewhat vile view of flirts.

Some believe flirts hurt.

From the Royal Path of Life (1883)

Flirting is a horrid outrage upon the most holy and exalted feelings of the human soul, and the most sacred and important relation of life. It is a vulgarism and wickedness to be compared only to blasphemy. It had, and still has, its origin in the basest lust. The refined soul is always disgusted with it.

You can read the entire text at the end of this post – AFTER you click your answer on the poll. It is from my own copy of the highly entertaining and educational publication.

If the passage above is true then my husband Teddy, who also happens to be a Vampire, and an outrageous flirt would be considered a crass unrefined soul. That makes me so sad. Even now he flirts. If he walks into a room he can make any woman feel beautiful. He can make any man laugh. He is charming and such a flirt. Is that wrong?

But what about when flirting is mean spirited. Maybe it isn’t really flirting, or is it? That is the burning question.

Some think it should be an Olympic sport. In that case I’d have a case full of medals. My husband would have a warehouse full.

So I’ll put it to you…

Burning Question #20: Is Flirting a Good Thing?

 

If you have an opinion or statement, or want to flirt with me or anyone else around here please leave a comment. It would be fabulous and delightful.

xoxo

I’ll see you next Saturday for the next BURNING QUESTION.

In the meantime, I wouldn’t recommend you flirt with disaster but if you must, you must.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

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Memories, Parenting, Shared Stories, and Growing Up

My daughter turned nineteen yesterday. That now means I’m officially a parent of those who are exclusively adults.

With the kids in my life getting older it beings back a flood of memories from the time I was a little bit older than two years, to my childhood, and somewhat embarrassing and adventure filled young adulthood.

I hope that all adults, especially those with children, and I mean children of any age, can remember way back when. I don’t mean like those memes you see on Facebook that say “When I was a kid we jumped off of cliffs, played with guns and live hand grenades, went swimming in snake infested rivers, stayed out until dark, exclusively dined on fried food and sugar, and put our hands into garbage disposals, used chain saws unattended, and we’re still alive. Kids these days are spoiled assholes.”

Having children brings up random memories. Sometimes these are fearful. Sometimes they bring a sigh of relief because your child is not doing the same thing as you did. Sometimes they are happy, or bittersweet because of a time you loved that will never be again.

Yesterday I thought about how I waited on the front porch of our house with my mother and my brother Valentine as we watched my three older brothers walking off to school. They were fourteen, thirteen, and nine. Val was almost five. I was almost four. I remember telling my mother that I wanted to go to school. Val was silent on the issue. He’d already started to read on his own and had no plans on going to school. Not ever. He never told my parents so he missed his opportunity to be an exclusive self learner. I didn’t learn to read until I was six and didn’t master it until I was about eight.

I thought about how much I like my daughter’s boyfriend, and my son’s girlfriend.

And the most random memory came into my head. I dated a guy named Orin once who was nice. He had a dog who was nice and a nice sense of humor. His home was nice. What wasn’t so nice was the fact that his sister lived with him. Gertrude seemed nice at first despite the fact that she was loud and exceptionally out spoken. But then it got weird.

Wherever I went with Orin Gertrude would be there. When Gertrude would talk Orin would stop whatever he was doing and give her a dreamy look. Gertrude was the expert in everything and he would defer to her on everything. She monopolized every conversation. Eventually everything we did was what Orin and Gertrude wanted to do. In fact that only reason I think I was around was because Orin didn’t want to have sex with his sister. She already had dibs on all of the other girlfriend functions. It was like dating married man who brought his wife along, only weirder. So the last time I saw him I invited him for cocktails. I said we could do something afterwords. A few nights before I told him that I was bothered that Gertrude, or Gertrude and her boyfriend were always along. I wanted some time with just him. He brought Gertrude along. As we sipped our drinks Gertrude talked and Owen gave her dreamy looks and said nothing out of his goofy love stuck smile. I left after I was finished with my drink and never saw him again.

I’ve told that story to my kids. They think it is exceptionally creepy. Siblings are great. Just not like Owen and Gertrude.

This morning my daughter Clara and her boyfriend left for a camping trip on the north coast. I thought of a camping trip long ago with my friend Amelia.

I was living in Sacramento. Amelia was living in Las Vegas. So we met half way in the southern part of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, where the highest mountains in the lower 48 are. We were at Devil’s Post Pile, an amazing geological formation. As we set up our tents I heard seals. This was great. Last time I went camping on the beach we heard seals too.

I said to Amelia, “Do you hear the seals?”

She said, “Those are mules.”

Then I remembered we were three hundred miles from the ocean, and in the mountains.

I’ll attribute my memory fade to a four-hour drive in my sports car with the top down. Brain bake. Or maybe it was just me, because sometimes I’m like that.

Amelia is still in Las Vegas being fabulous. I’m still living near Sacramento.

Amelia and I are still having adventures. I heard the seals, aka mules, years before I ever had children. Now Amelia and I have grown daughters. I think our hearing is a lot better now. Parenthood will do that to you.

By the way, I haven’t heard seals in the mountains since then.

I was also with Amelia on my 19th birthday one hundred and forty years ago, but I won’t tell that story today.

In both storytelling and parenting use what you know. Use the truths from you experiences to teach your children. Entertain them with your stupid stories so maybe their stupid stories won’t be so stupid.

We all connect through our stories. Our stories make us who we are. They are something we can share at no cost, except maybe a little embarrassment.

I love to listen to stories and memories others have to share. It doesn’t matter if you’re sitting around a campfire, strolling through a museum, or hanging out at home. What matters is that we listen with open minds, open hearts, and a sense of humor. And add in some love.

Yes, even Vampires, despite the misinformation out there about us, know about love. We know a lot about love – and stories. So be like a Vampire and tell your story and collect stories from others. You’ll thank me for it later.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

vm darling girl

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dating A Dead Guy (or friends don’t fix up friends even when they’re sober)

I was visiting with a single friend of mine today and she said something interesting.

“Desdemona wanted to fix me up with her friend Jacko. The guy has no job, no ambition, lives with Desdemona and her husband, and has nothing in common with me.”

I had to smile in amusement. Desdemona equates a man with a pulse, and single status, and maybe a penis, as the someone who would be a great match for any of her friends. Those are the only three requirements. When I was single, way back when, she did the same with me. It drove me nuts. No I never met any of the guys.

She’d also leave out whether the guy was a Vampire, a Werewolf, a Zombie, a regular guy, or a serial killer. Things like job status, education, interests, personality, health. looks, and having a sense of humor, or even being remotely interesting would be pushed aside. All she would see was two people who she thought needed to be married. It didn’t matter who they married. That wasn’t important.

Friends don’t let friends hook each other up. Sure you can have a party and invite single people who might like each other but PLEASE don’t be a matchmaker for your friends.

This is nothing more than a short public relations message from me.

If you absolutely NEED to fix up friends ask yourself the following questions:

  • Does that person have a pulse?
  • Do they have a descrenable personality?
  • Do they live with their parents?
  • Do they have income?
  • Is it legal?
  • Do they like dogs and cats?
  • Do they read? Can they read?
  • Do they have any common interests?
  • Are they matched physically? Yes, you don’t want to match a couple who is on the opposite ends of the looks chart. It might sound shallow but I’m just being real.
  • Are they a Vampire (assuming your friend is)
  • Would they make a good Vampire or want to ever be one?
  • What about religion. That can get ugly.
  • Are they prone to joining cults?
  • What are their political views?
  • Do they go out in the sunlight?
  • Does one of your friends have a weird habit or trait that your other friend might find too weird or offensive.
  • If they get together and break up will you lose two friend? Will you lose even one friend?

This isn’t rocket science. Think before you match up your adult friends. It is offensive when to try to match up friends or family members with a dud.

THINK. 

Again… this has been a pubic service announcement from Vampiremaman.com

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Coffee and Swine: A weird tale of romance (and it is ALL TRUE)

For the past hundred years, maybe a bit longer, my brother Val has owned a beautiful Victorian in downtown Sacramento. Occasionally I use it as a meeting place, or working space. Occasionally he lives there. For the past few months he has lived there.

Most of the 4,000 square feet is beautifully restored but most of it isn’t used. The kitchen is in working order, he has an office, a spectacular bedroom taking up a good portion of the top floor, a bathroom, and a small sitting room with a huge TV. The rest is empty.

So anyway, I met him there for coffee this morning. Yes, Vampires drink coffee. Yes, my brother and I are Vampires. Most of our family and friends are too.

I got to his house and he was playing some Mario Brothers on the Wii. Oh man, I hadn’t played that for years. I was Princess Peach. He was Yoshi. We’re always Princess Peach and Yoshi.  We played a racing game with steering wheels. Val won two games. I won three. Not bad considering I’m the little sister.

After we played for a while then Val gave me a serious look. “There’s something I want to tell you about. I’ll make coffee,” he said.

As we stood in his kitchen, coffee cups in our hands he told me about something really weird.

“You know that woman I was seeing, Madison?”

“Sure,” I said, “she’s the one who teaches Animal Science classes at U.C. Davis. Right?”

“Right. Animal Science. She works with swine.”

“Swine. Like Pigs?”

“Pigs are her speciality. I was over at her place last night. She lives in the country, on kind of a farm. Her house is really nice, comfortable, clean. She, um, has a couple of Black Lab mix sort of dogs, some chickens, and pigs. She has some pigs she said she’d rescued. She isn’t going to eat them. They’re huge, maybe six hundred pounds each.

We had a couple glasses of wine, and she suggests we go out to her hot tub. Juliette, she wasn’t kidding when she said hot tub. It was a large old fashioned bath tub that she’d converted into a hot tub.  We stripped down, got in the water, started to fool around, then she told me to turn around. She said she wanted to give me a back rub. She started to scratch my back. I though she was scratching my back with her fingernails. I could feel her hot breath on the nape of my neck. Then she snorted. I turned around and, Juliette, I couldn’t believe what I saw.”

“What Val?” I asked.

“I was sitting in the tub with a pig. Madison had turned into a pig. She is a shape shifter. I already knew that but I thought she was a Werewolf.”

“You thought you were sleeping with a Werewolf and you knew it? Oh my God Val. You thought she was… does she know you’re a Vampire?”

“Yes, we both went into this knowing we were, you know, different, not regular humans. Madison is smart and funny. You know, I thought I’d take a chance. I knew it would never get serious. But I thought she was a Werewolf, not a Shape Shifting Swine.”

“Your girlfriend is a pig.”

“When I saw her she squealed. It was like the voice of death. Then jumped out and ran away. I got out, dried off and went into the house. She was standing in her bedroom in a robe, still transforming. It was horrible. I can’t even describe it. Now I know why she had so many weird stretch marks along her sides.”

“Oh Val. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m not sleeping with her again. That’s for sure. She told me that she’d dated a guy who was a Werewolf in the past but when the moon was full she was always afraid he’d eat her. Then she told me that she is still seeing him.”

“Wow, that is brutal.”

“It got me off the hook. Weird. I never drank her blood… just sex. It got me thinking. I have to be more careful.”

We had more coffee and talked more about relationships and other things, but it always came back to Madison, the Shape Shifting Swine Woman.

Val put his hand up to my neck and touched my necklace. “Cute. I’ve never seen it before.”

I was wearing a necklace made of puffy Victorian heart charms my husband Teddy and the kids had given me for Mother’s Day about ten years ago. My children had crawled into bed with me. The had a pretty pink box all tied with a bow. I still treasure the memory.

Maybe one day Val will find someone. Hopefully someone who isn’t a pig.

We made more coffee and watched the squirrels from the kitchen window as they ate all of the food out of the bird feeder. We didn’t stop them. You never know, they could have been someone we knew.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Wake up!

Thank you for reading my entry for  The 2018 Evil Squirrel’s Nest Contest of Whatever.
For contest information and rules (check it out for a laugh and for this thing to make more sense) https://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2018/01/28/the-fifth-annual-contest-of-whatever/

Last year I was the WINNER of the Contest of Whatever with an installment of Shelf Critter Theater. Click here to see it.

Or check out all of my past Contest of Whatever entries below:

Vampire Diary: Shelf Critter Theater

Yes it is complicated (almost as much as a unicorn, a squirrel and a possum going into a bar…)

Vampire Diary: Game Day

Three True Tales of Terror (with teens, rats and possums) – with illustrations