Onlineness....

beginning Jan 1, 2011 I will only be online Sunday mornings (EST) for about a half hour. I'ill be returning to school & working several jobs. I will be checking emails and messages but may not be able to chat if you see me online during the week.
I want to do really well in all my classes and they are all difficult classes. I hope to see you around campus or chat via email this semester. Enjoy the new year!

Wow twice in one day...

So I was thinking…




…with the fact that life is getting crazy between school, the fact that I will have a senior and a junior next fall and that I have a sports playing fool of a son, (and that’s just the surface) that I’m going to simplify things.



This mainly has to do with my various websites, and my activity on them. So as of May 1st http://anicasfamily.com & http://shannonanicas.com will be going down. I will have the domain for shannonanicas.com still incase I have enough money at some point for hosting, but at this time with things as they are I can’t afford the hosting. It also means that the site http://shannonanicas.com/wordpress where I attempted to revamp my site and blog there, is going away too. So now my blogging will be done on Http://shannon-anicas.blogspot.com and subsequently linked to my face book, myspace and twitter pages when something posts. Its free and you cant beat free.



Ok…now back to homework (until another ADD thought that I feel I have to share pops in my brain and out on my keys)

“It’s getting hard to be someone, but it all works out…”

“It’s getting hard to be someone, but it all works out…”
Strawberry Fields~ The Beatles

I am writing this after another night of being fully awake until 4 am and up at 8:30, then dozing from 9-12. I have been battling sleepless nights again since not needing to get up in the morning.

But this is not the first battle with this nor do I think it will be the last.

I have spent my entire life trying to conform to be awake in daylight and asleep at night. For as long as I can remember I could stay up all night without difficulty provided I could sleep in. But thanks to needing to conform to an 8-5 society I have had to force my body into this life cycle.

When I was at my writing heights (successfully publishing 23 articles in a span of 6 months) I was completely nocturnal. I am at my creative heights from about 11 pm to 4 am. When the world is silent my brain is in overdrive.

Which is great when you can utilize it to make beautiful art out of words, but not so great when you need to get up in the morning so you are forced to quiet the creative juices with large doses of medications just to be “normal”? And let me tell ya…normal sucks.

Some Gaps in postings

I want to play catch up of sorts. My last real post was for my birthday and I left it unfinished. I also wanted to tell everyone about the awesome vacation and before I could I returned to work to be unjustly fired for what I can’t say due to pending lawsuits I am pursuing. Then I went into what I like to call “lock down mode,” which is when I shut down and go on auto pilot in order to self preserve. It is kind of a form of shock. Now that I have had a week to recover and regroup, I want to fill in those posts. So I will be playing catch up today.

First, I have to go clean house and play with Johnathan. But I want to leave you with a little something to think about. It came to me in my daily newsletter about meditation. I have been trying to learn to do it to help deal with the enormous amount of stress I was under at my day job. Today’s focus was perfect and I want to share it with you:

The only way to keep the mind pure is by constantly scrubbing it of the opinions that accumulate like grime.

So, as I go scrub grime out of my kitchen, I am mentally scrubbing the grime of my thoughts. Once again I am choosing positive thoughts over self doubt. If you have tools that you use to keep on this path, feel free to share them. I am always opened to new ways of thinking.

Peace and love to all,

Shannon
PS: On a totally random note, I am sad that Avatar is over. L I love that cartoon.

A new focus...

In an effort to get me blogging again, my brain got the idea to become a tell-all and whine alot about the Semi-City I work in and live near, Akron, OH.

So my blog will be witty and funny and at times more serious then others, but over all fun.

Hope that you enjoy the adventures of Shannon in the Semi-City!

After dreaming of living and working in a big city,wearing fashionable clothes and to-die-for shoes,I wound up in the Semi-City of Akron, OH.

Now mind you, compared to the city I grew up in (Kiln, MS pop. 4,445 in 2000) is a monster of a city with a population within the city limits of 217,000, but it is Semi-City in that compared to cities like Chicago (pop. 2,896,016 in 2000), or New York City (pop. 8,008,278 in 2000), or even its neighbor Cleveland (pop. 478,403). But life is far from boring in this area!

There are tons of things to do, places to eat great food and sidewalks to walk around urine smelling vagrants. Ah, Akron (and the burbs that accompany) you are my Semi-City.

New Possibilities

I love books! I am going to start a new feature in my blog about books I’ve recently read, books I want to read, books I love-love-love, and books I have or will be reviewing. So stay tuned!

For now I recommend these sites to check out from some awesome authors:

Jen Lancaster

Enlightenment for Idiots

Eat Pray Love

The Sex and The City Movie Companion

Save Karyn. One Shopaholic's Journey to Debt and Back

More coming soon!!

Where I go from here?

After reading the blog of an real published author it dawned on me that I can't and shouldn't be called a writer. Because if I were a writer like I keep pounding on my chest about, I would have written something worth publishing over the last year, but I haven't. I can't even blame that my work is good and that it just isn't getting seen, because . I. Have. Not. Written. Anything.

Sure I blog here and there and rework my website and myspage page to give the illusion that I am writing. But the truth is I haven't. I piddle around and shuffle the papers of my novel that I started 2 years ago next month. I am still where I left off on it spring of 2006. I talk the talk and never walk the walk. I say I want to be a writer full time, yet I have not attempted to squeeze out anything worth printing. I see real authors working 2 jobs and still pumping out books and articles while I whine about laundry getting in my way. I blame time being short, responsibilities too long, this that and the other, yet what it all boils down to is that I haven't made the effort.

When I came to this epiphany, I decided to go deeper and see if I could figure out why I didn't even try. Am I lazy? (yes, but that is beside the point.) Am I incapable of writing more good material? (no, because when I do get worked up about something I can pump out good stuff) Or am I afraid of success and how I will handle it? (ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!)

Why am I afraid of success? Sure I could continue to blame my parents for this fear, and although I do attribute some of that to them, I am ready to admit it is all me. Which also means it is all me that has to fix it.

What does this mean? I am not sure yet, but the first step toward anything is realizing what you have done wrong. The second is figuring out how to make it right.

It is time to think about what I really want to do about my writing. Did I satisfy the yearning to be a writer with what I have already accomplished or do I take it seriously and take it to the next level? Where do I go from here?

Howdy Folks!!!

Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't been posting as regularly as I hoped, I have been working hard on getting the New sitetogether, lots of self-promotion for my writing and photography and tons of homework in my new class.

All is great though! In fact it is better then I could have expected. Life is great and I love it!
Last weekend we attended a family party that was AWESOME! They had 4 bands that rocked the house like no ones business.Burden, Invisus Angelus, The No Hair Band, and White Horse were there to entertain and they did not disappoint. I had the privilege of photographing Burden and Invisus Angelus, which was a blast but my hearing has not been the same since. (Why is it that the best shots have me sitting in front of the amps and speakers during thrash metal?) Oh well pain for my craft is part of the fun.

I am also trying to catch up on the latest news and gossip so I can put out some cleverly witty posts. I am planning on getting a big glass of wine and reading this weekend. So beware of future posts!

I am also getting ready to submit my novel to the wolves, er I mean editors. Wish me luck!
Ok I better get back to work before I get busted…talk to everyone soon!

Howdy Folks!

Hello everyone! Sorry I haven’t been posting as regularly as I hoped, I have been working hard on getting the new site together, lots of self-promotion for my writing and photography and tons of homework in my new class.

All is great though! In fact it is better then I could have expected. Life is great and I love it!

Last weekend we attended a family party that was AWESOME! They had 4 bands that rocked the house like no ones business. Burden, Invisus Angelus, The No Hair Band, and White Horse were there to entertain and they did not disappoint. I had the privilege of photographing Burden and Invisus Angelus, which was a blast but my hearing has not been the same since. (Why is it that the best shots have me sitting in front of the amps and speakers during thrash metal?) Oh well pain for my craft is part of the fun.

I am also trying to catch up on the latest news and gossip so I can put out some cleverly witty posts. I am planning on getting a big glass of wine and reading this weekend. So beware of future posts! :)

I am also getting ready to submit my novel to the wolves, er I mean editors. Wish me luck!

Ok I better get back to work before I get busted…talk to everyone soon!

Happy Birthday Paw-Paw

Today as I changed the date stamp that I mark all the incoming mail with, it occurred to me that today is my Grandfathers birthday. Had he still been alive he would be only 72 years old. Unfortunately, he passed away 10 years ago this past February after a nasty battle with Emphysema and COPD.
For many years I was angry at him for dying because I believe that had he stopped smoking he never would have had to suffer with, and eventually die from, the side effects of this addicting habit.
I also have held a grudge from his death because it changed my mother forever. She had finally gotten her father she so desperately longed for growing up, only to lose him 15 years later. Plus, she had the worse possible decision in the world, she had to decide to whether or not to remove his life support. She has been in turmoil ever since. Mom says it is her youth that made her the way she is, I think it was that decision that broke her spirit completely.
The day he died my life began to make a drastic change as well. The camels back was broken in my marriage when my now ex-husband wouldn't let me grieve and couldn't understand the importance of it. We separated 6 months later, but had become light years apart the day the phone call came.
I had made peace with my grandfather the year prior when I had this gut wrenching dream that he died. I awoke and immediately sat down and wrote him a very long letter. In the letter I told him my frustrations with his smoking, but mostly I told him how much I loved and admired him. He was my hero, my role model, my knight in shining armor. He was the reason I joined the Navy. I also talked of one day naming a future child after him because he was everything to me.
I can still remember the trips I took with him to the base in Gulfport. I felt so important at the age of 12, walking into rooms and having people in uniforms show him such respect. When he walked in any room you couldn't help but notice him. He was tall with dark eyes and hair. He looked like a Native American with his strong cheekbones and dark complexion. He was so handsome.
He was also incredibly active until he began slowing down to the diseases that plagued him. He was a member of the Shiners', VFW, and numerous other organizations. He volunteered his time driving sick children to Memphis to the St. Jude's Hospital for treatment. He worked in his yard and loved to travel. Having spent more of his life outside the U.S. traveling with the Navy that he couldn't sit still for long.
I always loved looking at the photographs on his walls. They were pictures of him at various points of his career, shaking hands with someone that looked really important. The pictures we along side autographed photos of Ronald Reagan, who was someone he greatly admired.
Paw-Paw also had a great love of westerns and the culture of the South West and the Old West. His living room was decked out with lots of knick-knacks of this admiration. Most of which I received upon his death. He also loved movies with John Wayne; I too inherited this upon his death and see my grandfather every time John Wayne appears on screen.
Now, 10 years after his death, I am finally beginning to forgive him for dying. Forgiving him for not being here to watch his great grand children grow, including the one I named after him nearly 7 years ago, the same one that sleeps at night with my grandfathers "cowboy's and Indian's" decorations.
I am learning to let go of the anger and regret that I have held in terms of my mother and her permanent change and downward spiral since her father's death. This is the hardest part because it caused my mother to finally break after being so fragile emotionally because of her childhood.
As I sit and write these words I am reminded of something he used to say to my brother, "Hang loose mongoose." I still chuckle at that. Living in Hawaii for so many years rubbed off on my grandfather.
I miss him today, hell I miss him everyday, but today especially. So Paw-Paw, "here's to you, wherever you are. Hang loose mongoose. I love you and happy birthday."Shannon Anicas
July 12, 2007
Today as I changed the date stamp that I mark all the incoming mail with, it occurred to me that today is my Grandfathers birthday. Had he still been alive he would be only 72 years old. Unfortunately, he passed away 10 years ago this past February after a nasty battle with Emphysema and COPD.

For many years I was angry at him for dying because I believe that had he stopped smoking he never would have had to suffer with, and eventually die from, the side effects of this addicting habit.

I also have held a grudge from his death because it changed my mother forever. She had finally gotten her father she so desperately longed for growing up, only to lose him 15 years later. Plus, she had the worse possible decision in the world, she had to decide to whether or not to remove his life support. She has been in turmoil ever since. Mom says it is her youth that made her the way she is, I think it was that decision that broke her spirit completely.

The day he died my life began to make a drastic change as well. The camels back was broken in my marriage when my now ex-husband wouldn't let me grieve and couldn't understand the importance of it. We separated 6 months later, but had become light years apart the day the phone call came.

I had made peace with my grandfather the year prior when I had this gut wrenching dream that he died. I awoke and immediately sat down and wrote him a very long letter. In the letter I told him my frustrations with his smoking, but mostly I told him how much I loved and admired him. He was my hero, my role model, my knight in shining armor. He was the reason I joined the Navy. I also talked of one day naming a future child after him because he was everything to me.

I can still remember the trips I took with him to the base in Gulfport. I felt so important at the age of 12, walking into rooms and having people in uniforms show him such respect. When he walked in any room you couldn't help but notice him. He was tall with dark eyes and hair. He looked like a Native American with his strong cheekbones and dark complexion. He was so handsome.

He was also incredibly active until he began slowing down to the diseases that plagued him. He was a member of the Shiners', VFW, and numerous other organizations. He volunteered his time driving sick children to Memphis to the St. Jude's Hospital for treatment. He worked in his yard and loved to travel. Having spent more of his life outside the U.S. traveling with the Navy that he couldn't sit still for long.

I always loved looking at the photographs on his walls. They were pictures of him at various points of his career, shaking hands with someone that looked really important. The pictures we along side autographed photos of Ronald Reagan, who was someone he greatly admired.

Paw-Paw also had a great love of westerns and the culture of the South West and the Old West. His living room was decked out with lots of knick-knacks of this admiration. Most of which I received upon his death. He also loved movies with John Wayne; I too inherited this upon his death and see my grandfather every time John Wayne appears on screen.

Now, 10 years after his death, I am finally beginning to forgive him for dying. Forgiving him for not being here to watch his great grand children grow, including the one I named after him nearly 7 years ago, the same one that sleeps at night with my grandfathers "cowboy's and Indian's" decorations.

I am learning to let go of the anger and regret that I have held in terms of my mother and her permanent change and downward spiral since her father's death. This is the hardest part because it caused my mother to finally break after being so fragile emotionally because of her childhood.

As I sit and write these words I am reminded of something he used to say to my brother, "Hang loose mongoose." I still chuckle at that. Living in Hawaii for so many years rubbed off on my grandfather.

I miss him today, hell I miss him everyday, but today especially. So Paw-Paw, "here's to you, wherever you are. Hang loose mongoose. I love you and happy birthday."

Reader, reading...

After returning from the library and not only picking up my giant stack of requested books but writing for about an hour, I came home to look at all I picked up.

I got two books for pure enjoyment reading. "one more day," by Mitch Albom & "Anna karenina" by Tolstoy. I loved "Tuesdays with Morrie" so I am sure I will like this one. It is a rather tiny book, great for putting away in one sitting. I picked up Tolstoy because everyone won't shut up about it being a great book. Always up for a reading challange I got the 838(in tiny print no less) book to conquer. I am giving myself a month. I read to fall asleep at night (unless the book is so good I stay up all night until I finish it like Jen Lancasters "Bitter is the new black") and again during my lunch breaks. I tote a book around nearly every where I go like the grocer, doctor etc. It kills time as I increase my braincells. Kinda a two for one special.

I used to write reviews, that sucked. At least the way I to do them. We were handed stacks of books by both unknown and known authors and more times then not the books sucked. I got to where I dreaded reading anything because I had to read inorder to review, then to make matters worse, even if they sucked I had to say something nice about them. It was a nightmare so from now on I only review what I want and when I want, same thing for reading.

In the rest of the stack are books to show to my manager for our group of kids we are mentoring. I did some research and wanted to put together a bunch of books that are ACT, math, confidence, etc to review with her as possible tools for our program.

Ok well I am off to do my pre-bed reading. I will let you know how it goes and if "one more day" is indeed as good as "morrie" was.

Until tomorrow!

Dreaming again

It has been awhile since I have been able to write without disruption of school, homework, and stress from work, sickness, etc. and I am feeling the dreamer creep back into me.

I started feeling the slow warmth of creativity when this weekend, for my anniversary, we took along walk around Borders. When I crossed the threshold into the land of words, I could hear tiny, incomprehensible words coming from all directions. With each step they grew louder, but not clearer. I headed for the fiction section and upon turning into the first aisle it looked like a candy store. Bright colors, rich textures, shiny objects abound. I reached out and touched the spine of a red book and I could hear it saying "write, write again," as clearly as I could hear the pages of the book the person next to me was reading, turn. With every touch of my finger to a spine the voices changed, but the message was the same "write, write again!"

My process of writing is probably not as unique as I think, but here it goes: I have to dream it into life. Whether it is a casual day dream or a wake me up at 2:00 a.m. and write it down, it has to come from somewhere deep inside. Like the proverbial can of worms, it has to be opened. I think this is why I go for such long bouts of not writing; because I don't dream it therefore it will not come.

When I am stressed it is like cholesterol blocking my creative veins. I can't do much beyond surviving without creating more stress. When I have those paths wide open my dreams come back, thus my writing begins again to move freely from my thoughts to the keys clicking away.

So, I am dreaming and creating new worlds again and I couldn't be happier