write a book and have it published

I have so many ideas running through my head, I just can’t sit down and commit to them ..

The Bacherlorette Party” by Karen McCullah Lutz

Chapter 13 – The day of the bachelorette party began with the neighbor’s cat climbing through the bedroom window and sitting on Zadie’s bed, meowing into her face with hot tuna breath that seemed as if it were coming out of someone’s ass.

This hilarious debut book by Cowriter of the the movie, Legally Blonde is 248 pages of guaranteed shake you head, spit out your water, laugh out loud out humor. If you enjoy jaded cynicalism about life and love like I do, you will so love this book! Zadie Roberts, English teacher to L.A. prep school elite, and freshly dupped at the alter by her Soap Opera star fiance 6 months ago, is bundle of pessismism. When she finds out her best guy friend Grey, is marrying her disgustingly perfect “virgin” cousin Helen after 4 months of dating, she feels betrayed by the love gods. Her only source of pleasure comes from her classroom fantasies about her student Trevor, the Abercrombie and Fitch Model who is shamefully off-limits.

As per Grey’s wishes for Zadie to “make sure Helen has a good time, maybe loosen her up a little”, the bacholette party with its indecorous and opinionated entourage let loose in the city of angels for a night to remember. Armed with a stretch limo and a neurotically stiff itinerary, plans quickly change as the day progresses. After a slew of overindulgence from all sorts of fancy bottles , shocking secrets are revealed, breasts are bared, sexual encounters are rampant, and a mechanical bull is molested….Well you will just have to read for yourself . This story will have you wishing for your own pre-husband party or a much needed “do over” .....well maybe

My pounding head has now taken up residency on the toilet seat. I have now worn a path in the carpet between my bedroom and the bathroom. If there is anything liquid left in my body it is on its way up pretty soon I imagine, I have never felt like this in my entire life. It crept up on me suddenly, the flu like symptoms and in the early morning the vomiting. What the hell kind of virus is this? I need to see a doctor ASAP! I feel so lifeless and weak, my body is turning against me, what have I done? Once I gathered up enough energy to call my Mother and tell her about my ailments she jokes and asks if I’m pregnant? I was never one to really keep up with my cycle, but pregnancy is the furthest thing from my mind.”No, it’s the flu I think”, I say and she makes me an emergency appointment with my doctor. I immediately dread what is happening, my Moms question has put fear into me that has now replaced the pain of my quivering insides.

As I set in the white room with the encouraging posters, and health warnings I thought about my best friend sitting in the waiting room always by my side in times of dire emergency. I wonder what she was thinking? Probably this bitch done got her self knocked up and now we can’t take over the city like the real divas we are. I couldn’t believe that 4 ounzes of amber colored fluid in a clear plastic cup held the rights to my future. I was in alot of denial sitting there actually, I couldn’t be pregnant, Q used a condom..didn’t he? I couldn’t even remember the specifics of that night it was such a blur. He wouldn’t be foolish to not use protection with a girl he just met would he? Why didn’t I speak up ? It was too late for the questions, the remorse, the what-ifs, the damn I’m a stupid ho! Unknowingly those last few weeks something was growing inside of me, through all the liquor, smoking, and sex, I’m such a fool.

after opening the smoke scented paper that was folded on the glass table, I decided to give Q a call. I hadn’t really given him much thought after I left the club that night, it was probably more boredom than anything that made made me pick up the phone. Granted he was cute and all, but those kinds of guys were a dime a dozen for me at that time.

He had the kind of deep voice that insinuated manliness, and it filled me up with quaint anticipation for our soon to be reunion. We exchanged the slight pleasantries that learning about a new person requires. and since neither of us had plans that night, we made some together. He gave me directions to his apartment and trust me the location didn’t go unnoticed, he must being doing alright for himself, I thought.

Always one to make a good first impression, or would this be the second? I deliberated on what to wear. I decided to keep it cute and simple, fitted jeans and a striped tank. Didn’t want to come off pretentious or stuffy and you can never go wrong with a pair of jeans. Meticulously I applied my drugstore make-up and pinned my long braids up into a loose chignon.

It was a perfect warm, summer night as I jumped in my little black four door headed north on IH-35. My prime-co phone buzzed letting me know someone was looking for me, the illuminated caller ID revealed it was Peanut, my best friend. I ignored it!, she was probably looking for me to attend this “pretty boy” fraternity party that was happening that night. I’m all for the deep waves, and the red shirts, but tonight my curiosity had the best of me. I would definitely touch base with her later to narrate the details of the evening.

After about fifteen minutes and three Dru Hill songs later I exited the highway. The Huntingdon was the name of his apartments, I wasn’t too familiar with the area but eventually I spotted the immaculate landscaping that announced I was in the right place. As I reached the gate for him to buzz me in, I took in the well kept grounds and the newness of my surroundings.

My jeweled sandals clicking on the pavement was the only sound to be heard around the massive complex. Up to the third floor I sashayed, noticing a parked boat and garages lining the fence. Down the long dark corridor to the left I found his door and knocked. He greeted me with a warm smile and a caressing embrace. Casually dressed in white athletic shorts and a cowboys tee shirt his boyish charm seeped through. Now with unglossy eyes, and inebriation subsided I noticed he was quite handsome. Low fade, 6’3, slender, I’m thinking he gots potential to be a contender. Not that I’m picturing us building our quarter of a million dollar house and the 2 1/2 kids but he seems aight on the surface.

His living quarters are nice for a bachelor, dark blue floral couches not the customary leather most men own. It shows me he thinks outside the box, even though I don’t care for the print much. The apartment is a nice size with french doors that lead out to the balcony, his rent is not cheap I imagine. I take a seat and place my large coach purse on the floor beside me.

Q asks me if I’m hungry as usual I am. I’m an easy girl to please since I like a little of everything so I told him it didn’t matter what we ate. We decide on Pizza Hut, a large with hamburger and canadian bacon which happens to be my favorite. As we probed into each other with fragile conversation, I noticed a college diploma above his 32’ inch TV on his entertainment center. Interestingly, he had just graduated from the same university in Louisiana, I had attended for one year after high school.

That common bond led to some unique conversations, who we knew, where we had partied, who we had a slept with and how many people. Can you believe we actually answered each other honestly on our first date? Now trust me his number of interminglings would have had most women running to the front door, but I’m no saint myself, take it how you want to. What was it about him that made me comfortable enough to confide in him about something so intimate? I felt he wouldn’t judge me, and you know what he never did.

With bellies full and chemistry lingering , he makes the first move. The floral couch I nix craddles my back with slight firmness. He is patient, maybe he can feel my slight hesitance about his sudden actions. I think to myself If I should give in? My weakness has always been telling men no, so I go with the flow. Our tongues our choreographed in a way that seems to be practiced for years. In one swift moment he lifts me onto his lap, my chignon has now unraveled and is now caressing my back above my tattoo.

With muscular taut legs that must have seen many a gym, he elevates our bodies off the botanical cradle in one sweeping motion and moves towards his room. His queen comforter is black with silver stripes, I’ve seen it at Walmart, I notice before my head comes to rest upon it. Like the first time with anyone before I give them my body, I am anxious of the unknown.

Will he like my body? Will I like his body? What about girth? Does he have enough to feel me up? Is he about to go down on me? Damn I need him to make this trip so not a waste of time. When it was all said in done in about 37 1/2 minutes , it was quite mediocre. I’ve had much better, I have had worse, but he seemed to be a nice guy so I thought I would definitely go out with him again. As we slept side by side that night unknowingly did we know a seed had been planted…...

it started as a night out for me and my crew back in Summer 1999. That night I wore a irridecent burgandy button up top with some black capris. I was rocking my new micros courtesy of Chantel and looking quite cute I most say. We were amped to hit the Thursday spot which was in a neighboorhood surrounded by a array of south of the border inhabitatants. We often blessed this establisment with our youthly anxiousness. No stranger to the dance floor, surrounded by sweaty and swaying appendages we made it a night to remember. Looking like the rainbow coalition, we hit the hardwood floors ready and willing to gyrate ourselves into early the next morning. In the midst of the heart pumping hip/hop song and the strobe lights, I spot him. He’s looking hard and long and my moves must be sending him into a trance. The yellow Tommy Hilfiger shirt he’s wearing sticks out in the crowd like blonde hair on 12th street. I don’t ignore him because my virgin heart is still in one piece, so I stare back. I see him plotting to his co-workers which I assume they are, since they look like they belong on 6th street instead of at this minority fusion, how he’s going to command my attention.

He got it, don’t remember how, but he tells me his name is Q. He’s different from what I usually go for, him and his shirt are in the same color palette. I’m digging his height though, just enough room for me to lay my head at the base of his collarbone, and his demeanor is pleasing. So how old are you, I ask? I find out I’m 6 years his junior but that doesn’t bother to me, I’m used to dating older men, they often seem to be drawn to me. I couldn’t even buy liquor legally yet , but I had seen and heard plenty to keep me on my toes. We exchanged numbers with promises to talk later, both ignorant and aroused to the fact that this night would deeply change our lives forever. I had unknowingly met my soulmate.

“I’m so excited” by the pointer sisters.. my laptop is sitting amongst many boxes over at UPS because I missed them today when they tried to deliver it..I can’t wait to go get tomorrow it could be the start of some very juicy commentary.. hmmmm

Some of the stories that I have in stored in my brain from adventures and memories of escapades me and my friends have had over the years. Some wild and crazy and straight up unbelieveable mess. I seriously need to start chronicling (is that a word?) so I don’t forget when its time to put these fingers to the test .

I love reading !! I stoled money out of my mom’s purse in the 3rd grade to buy books at the school fair and snuck them in my coat up the stairs right in front of her .. you think she knew? probably.. I mean how sneaky can a 8 year old be?

So why not become a Writer? Granted I’ve never made up a story and actually written it, but I think I have what it takes once I sit down and put my mind to it. I have these grand, lavish stories just sitting in storage in my brain just waiting to be conjured up on the computer screen.