Someone Is Stalking Us

The Red Phone of Doom

Someone is stalking us. We think. It’s very strange and we are both pretty freaked out right now.

Here’s what happened.

We live our lives on the phone. Literally. We will talk for 7 hours at a time while we write, clean, eat, have family meetings with the kids, etc. Until we are together in person forever, this is how it has to be for us not to go more insane than we already are.

Last night ended as it always does, hanging on every last word of each others until we were falling asleep on the phone. We spent another 30 minutes saying goodbye after heartwarming talks about our future “shiny babies” (that’s a topic for another post.)

We set our alarms to talk in the morning. (That was about 4 hours away.)

When we talked the next morning: 

K: Morning. I love you.

D: Morning honey. Missed you. Dreamed about you.

K: Me too. God I wish you were here.

D: Yeah, so do I. If I were I’d…

(Ok, we will skip to the relevant parts of this conversation now…)

D: Hey honey. Did you call this morning?

K: No, why?

D: I got a call at around 7a.m. that sounded like you. But she hung up.

K: 7 a.m. your time?

D: Yes

K: Oh My God that’s soooo creepy!

D: Yeah it is.

K: No babe, it’s really creepy. That was 4 a.m. my time. I got a call from a woman at around 4 a.m. When I answered she said something like “I have the wrong number” and hung up. But that was after the phone rang for a long time.

D: Woah that is freaky.

So, here are the facts.

At 7:08 a.m. Dmytry got a call from a Private Caller. When he answered a woman said something about having the wrong number and hung up.

At around 4:10 a.m. (7:10 a.m. for Dmytry) Kimberly got a call from a Private Caller. When she answered a woman said something about having the wrong number and hung up.

Holy CRAP! (this is NOT Kimberly)

Here’s where it gets REALLY freaky.

Dmytry’s number is not listed in his name, and very few people have the number.

Kimberly just got this phone number a week ago. She has only ever called 4 people with it, and even she does not remember what her phone number is.

We live in different countries, (Kimberly in US, Dmytry in Canada) and different time zones, but these calls happened within minutes of each other.

This woman didn't ask for anyone, just heard us say hello and said she had the wrong number.

Was she just checking to make sure we were still each in our own country? We are, btw, but only for a few more weeks. What is this about?

No one AT ALL that we can think of has both our phone numbers.

What does this mean? We are totally freaked! Thoughts?

OMG! THE RING!

No. We are not engaged. BUT. We have designed the ring. THE RING.

This is IT! 1.71 carat Ruby. Black and white diamonds. Platinum band. Our wedding will also be black, white and red. (with a black and red bouquet of roses for the bride! and a white with red wedding dress...)

This is the sexiest ring ever in existence.

Seriously.

Bread is Killing Kimberly

Deadlier than it looks

My girlfriend is allergic to food.

Okay, not all food. But gluten, eggs,and yeast. That's like, almost all food.

And whenever she eats any of it, terrible things happen. So terrible I can't even...

(Shudder)

So I've told her to get on an appropriate diet. Told her that it kills me whenever she isn't.

So far, she's been doing good. But everyday an evil cookie calls her over to the darkside. She's walking that thin line between Jedi and Sith, but I know that the blue lightsabers always win.

And Kimberly will win.

Already she has vaporized all unhealthy food in her house. Already she has promised me to never touch bad food again.

But her greatest challenge awaits.

Kimberly is going away to meet family this Thanksgiving. Going away to a house full of pain inducing food.

Poison

Will she be able to resist the sweets?

Yes. I know she will. How?

Because Kimberly never breaks a promise. So...

Have a great Thanksgiving honey.

Just focus on the turkey. And the force will be with you.

Always.

In Defense of Myself: Kimberly's Story

Yes, it's true. I'm allergic to almost everything. Gluten, eggs, yeast. Ok, it doesn't sound like a lot, until you consider nearly every sauce, beverage and processed food item has one of those ingredients in it.

What can I eat? Meat, veggies and fruit.

I've not been very good at staying away from these things since I found out.

I try. I really do. But then the food calls to me with their evil little voices. "Eat me, eat me," and come on, homemade mac and cheese beats out carrot sticks any day of the week.

It also sends me to the fetal position crying.

You'd think given all my brilliance and brain power that this would be, well, a no-brainer.

You'd think.

But apparently I'm a true moron when it comes to my own health. I have the foresight of a gnat. Seriously.

When it comes to food, I see about .3 seconds ahead. That's it. The rest is a blur.

And it is killing me. It's making holes in my gut. Causing my body to swell from the inside. Leaving me in pain ALL the time.

Stupid!

And yet, stopping for myself was just too hard.

But Dmytry is hurt when I'm hurt. And I can't hurt him.

And I can't break a promise to him either.

So this Thanksgiving, I will not have gravy, or biscuits or wine or beer or stuffing or bean green casserole or any desserts. I will eat meat. And...well...I don't know.

But I will not break my promise.

Throwing Out The Safety Net in Love ♥

Dmytry in Russian (as he is Russian and speaks Russian, this wasn't random.)

In case this small fact has slipped past you, we are INSANELY in love. Seriously. We make people gag, roll eyes, or get teary eyed (depending on their romantic inclinations.)

So, let’s just focus on the INSANE for a moment. We did not take this slow. We did not spend years getting to know each other. We did not meet each other’s families and pets and past love interests.

K: Wait, why would we ever need to meet each other’s past love interests?

D: I don’t know. Maybe some people do just so they can get a sense of why it ended, you know, from the other person’s perspective.

K: Hmm…I don’t think I really want to be in the same room with any other love interest of yours.

D: Babe, you are the ONLY love interest I’ve EVER had. My heart has never belonged to, or wanted, anyone but you.

K: Awwww…well that makes the insanity of my choice today a little less insane.

D: No, it’s still insane, but awesome and amazing and I absolutely love you.

So yes. Insane. We met on Twitter. We became writing partners. We fell in love. We are moving in together in a few weeks. All of this happened at lightning speed under circumstances that have left many baffled and befuddled. (And some even angry.)

And today was no exception to the Insanity Clause in our relationship.

What Kimberly Did

My Vampire-Diaries-Hot bro and sis

Let me just start by saying that I vowed I would NEVER get a guy’s name tattooed on my body. I was married for over 8 years and never once did I even consider it. I’ve dated other guys, been in long-term relationships, and NOPE, never felt the need to brand myself with their name. Not even once.

When my brother and sister fell in love and got each other’s names inked on them, I thought they were crazy. Why? Why would you even do that? (Ok, side note to explain the bro/sis thing. I was raised with my half-bro and we have the same mom. I met my half-sis, with whom I share a bio dad, almost two years ago. When she and my bro met, they fell in love. They are NOT related in any way, except now they are married, so I guess they are related. LOL)

Yes, I know, my family is crazy and we do love in crazy ways. I’m in love with a man I met through a tweet who is almost half my age. Love is nuts!

But anyways, I couldn’t understand the compulsion to do this. Don’t get me wrong, I love tattoos. I have several of them. My first was the tragedy/comedy mask. I also have a Chinese character meaning “dangerous” on my ankle, a small rose, a Celtic knot that my sis and I got, an infinity symbol inside my right wrist and a crescent moon with three shooting stars to represent my daughters.

So yeah, maybe if I loved someone enough I could see myself getting a symbol to represent them. You know, something that could suddenly mean something else should the relationship go south.

I’ve always had a backup plan in love. While I leap heart first, I also hold back enough to change course if needed. (If that doesn’t sound too contradictory.) 

The Plan B if Plan A fails.

I love him MORE than this

Getting someone’s name tattooed on you does not allow for this. Sure there are ways to get it off, I guess, but still, all in all it’s pretty permanent.

So why did I go straight from work to a tattoo shop across the street and have Dmytry’s name engraved on my body for all time?

This is an excellent question. First of all, I love him. But in fairness to my past, I have also loved others. I have even been married and had children with another man. For me, this tattoo is that one line I never crossed for anyone else, except him.

It’s a symbol. A symbol of my total love and devotion to him. It represents the ways in which he is different from all the other men I have been with. The ways in which my love for him is different from any other man I have loved. It’s a symbol of commitment more powerful than marriage or rings or promises.

My love for Dmytry is now written in ink and blood on my body forever. 

What better way for a writer with ink running through her veins to express her love?

And then the question, why now? Why not wait until he’s here and can go with me. (The underlying question being, why not wait until he’s here just in case he doesn’t come?)

Because. Because I jump heart first into life and love. Because I don’t always make rational choices in matters of the heart. Because while following my heart has led to pain, it has also led me to the most amazing human being I’ve ever known. (That’s Dmytry by the way, in case I was too vague or something.)

And because Dmytry is leaving everything he knows to be with me. He is ostracizing himself from friends and family who think he’s gone mad. He is walking away from his country. His home. His life. His peer group. All to come here and spend his life with me as my partner and father to my children.

He is doing this because he loves me THAT much. He is doing this without a Plan B.

And so, this is my leap. I don’t need a Plan B either. I’m giving my love, and my body, without any backup plan if this goes south. Without any way of changing stories should he not be on that plane. Because I love him THAT much. And I know without a doubt, he will be on that plane. 

there he is, making all those hearts with his thoughts of me

this is what pierced her skin to get my name

What Dmytry Thought

Kimberly got a tattoo today.

An awesome tattoo. A sexy tattoo.

What was it?

My name. In bold Russian letters. (Oh, and there was a star underneath it that looked better than I imagined.) But my name. It was there. On the inside of her ankle. Ink permanently infused into her skin.

And trust me. That is greatest symbol of love you'll ever find. When you see your name on your partner's body, your heart will melt.

Mine did.

In fact, it's still melting.

And my hands ache to touch Kimberly's skin. My mind works to contemplate her love.

I'm still not done thinking about it. I'll never be done. Because her love is infinite.

Everyday she surprises me. Everyday she looks for ways to show unending love.

This tattoo comes pretty close. And I wonder what she'll do next.

But really, every minute she spends with me is a sign of her love. And trust me, I love her just as much. I don't have her name on my body yet but...

Honey. Thank you for this symbol of our love.

Thank you for this undying memory.

As this tattoo lasts forever, so does my love for you.

*****Would you ever get your partner's name tattooed on your body? Why or why not?

I Thought I Knew How To Love

Kimberly Says

I thought I knew how to love.

Until I met Dmytry.

We are moving in together on January 13, 2011.

Until then, we are mostly doing the long-distance thing with phones and computers and the like.

There are pros and cons to this set up.

The cons:

                Hm, these should be fairly obvious. My phone isn’t a good kisser.

                My computer, while able to keep me warm at night if left on, isn’t very fun to cuddle with.

                And neither of these devices has once taken out the trash.

The pros:

                Ummm…

                *crickets*

Moving right along then…

               

I don’t take this step lightly. Not with three little girls.

Sometimes I think I won’t be able to breathe until he gets here. And I know. I need him. I love him. More than I ever imagined possible.

If we could hop in a pickup truck I would easily run away with him, taking a black dress, a purse, and two red shoes that aren’t mine (like my writer friend Tom and his wife did with their impulsive life-long love.)

Instead, he is hopping on an airplane, freshly updated passport in hand, clothes in suitcase. Probably no dress or borrowed red shoes. Just saying. But still. He will leave all he knows for a new country and a new life with me and my kids.

He is half Ukrainian, half Russian and spent half his life in Canada. He will spend the rest of his life with me. Likely mostly in America.

And I am scared senseless.

But not for the reasons you might think.

I’m scared about underwear.

Yes, you heard me right. Underwear.

Here’s the thing.

I do not own any black lace underwear. I might own some blue lace. Maybe. If I dig deep in my closet. But mostly, (and this is probably more information then you EVER wanted to know about me EVER) I own comfy cotton types.

So what does this have to do with the price of tea in China?

Nothing.

But. Regarding Dmytry. Well. I’m terrified that he is secretly expecting something like Malibu Barbie meets Career Barbie and Homemaker Barbie all rolled into one.

Because, here’s the truth. I am not always beautiful and sexy. *GASP* I know. There’s shock and wild applause for my humility. But seriously, I have moments of looking like total shit. And I harbor this fear, deep in me, that somehow, if he really sees all my flaws every day and night, he will find me lacking. And he will leave. And my heart will be crushed forever.

Now, this is a stupid fear. Namely because he knows I’m none of these things.

He knows for instance that:

*I hardly wear make-up.

*I have only a passing acquaintance with Patience.

*I am neurotic and insecure in wild intervals.

*My eyes look like I’ve been in a boxing match when I cry all night.

*I love chocolate and would eat it with almost anything.

*I mostly wear comfy clothes and cotton underwear that aren’t inherently sexy.

*I have given birth to three children via C-Section and my body reflects the war wounds of these battles.

He knows a lot more too. But you get the idea. He’s not expecting this idea I have of his idea in my head. If that wasn’t too convoluted to follow.

He knows it’s crazy here. That Cheerios get ground into the floor and dirty laundry gets piled in the corner for some “when I have time” moment in the future.

He knows me. My life. My kids.

And I’m trying to figure out where this fear comes from.

Is it his age? He is young. He has never lived with a woman. Will I scare the hell out of him our first week of 24/7 cohabitation?

But shame on me for underestimating him. For making him some shallow playboy looking for a cocktail waitress in lace and silk.

I do him, and myself, a disservice by harboring these fears and feeding them. By limiting his capacity to love and accept me as I am.

Because really, I am not loving and accepting me as I am.

I thought I knew how to love.

Until I met Dmytry.

Because loving someone means accepting their love in return. It means believing in that love. And seeing yourself as they see you. I have failed at this. I love Dmytry with my entire being. But I have not opened myself completely to his love.

Fear prevents us from feeling and giving real love.

Honey, I am sorry. I am sorry I doubt you and your love. I am sorry I let these fears hurt us both. Thank you for loving me and having patience enough for us both.

Dmytry Says 

So, I missed class today convincing Kimberly that I loved her.

Did I succeed? I don't know.

She fears that which I understand and hate. She fears that, when I move there, she will not be what I expect.

And she's right.

Because I know, absolutely know, that she is more beautiful and brilliant than I can imagine.

And I'm tired of it. Tired of this perception that I'm in love with a vision instead of reality.

I'm in love with Kimberly. 

No matter what she wears or what mood she's in. I'm in love with her.

Honey, I'm sorry I can't make these fears go away. I'm sorry I'm not there to look into your eyes and say "I love you. Always. Just the way you are. Just the way you will be."

I'm sorry I can't make you feel like others have. I just hope that, when I'm finally there with you, holding you, that this will go away.

Because it’s not my love that's fake. It's this fear. It's this idea that when we are together things will collapse. That our relationship will crumble.

It won't.

Because, yes, love is hard. But that's why it's so hard to break. And your love shines like a diamond. I will never give it up.

Listen. Honey.

Every day I imagine being with you.

But I can't wait for the day I don't have to.

How We Met and Fell In Love ♥

It seems fitting that our first post-launch post should be the “How We Met and Fell In Love” story. Because we are totally convinced this is knowledge each of you secretly in your heart of hearts really can’t live without.

D: Technically, they probably can live without it honey. I mean, they won’t actually die if they don’t read this post. 

K: Yes, I’m aware. But it would be a zombie life of the walking dead. We are saving them from this cruel fate. 

D: Well, when you put it that way, it does seem we are doing the whole of humanity a real service.

K: We are, aren’t we? Think they’ll build a shrine for us with a statue?

D: I would build a shrine for you, my love, and worship at the feet of your eternal beauty.

K: OMG, See? We don’t even need this post now; everyone can see why I feel in love with you!

D: And anyone who’s gazed upon your beauty or read the brilliance of your words knows why I fell in love with you.

Wow, ok, we’ll be back after this short bedroom break.

Just kidding. It’s not THAT kind of blog. No need to rush to change the setting on your computer or anything. We’re family friendly--mostly! *evil grins*

So this is how it happened. As we explained on, I don’t know, one of the blogs that started it all (see under “Our Story” to the right for links to those) we told you we started as writing partners. 

That is how we fell in love. Through story. Through the power of language and the beauty of the soul’s ability to shine through words.

The question: 

We have each been given an assignment. 

Write your first impression and how that led to falling in love. We have not discussed what we will say. We will post as is, with minor grammatical corrections. Any correlations in our story are the astonishing result of our deep soul love and freaky mind-reading ability. 

(Seriously, we can actually, literally read each other’s mind. It’s creepy, but really useful at times.)

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

When Dmytry Met Kimberly

Impressions of Nothing

The first writing by Kimberly that I read was titled "The Nothing."

It wasn't about nothing. No. It was an intriguing look at virtual realities and life online. The great prose and poetic style impressed me. The idea intrigued me. I wanted to read more.

Kimberly sent me the synopsis for her first novel, a YA fantasy filled with magic and heart, "Death by Destiny." Her mastery of the genre and its tropes made her a perfect fit for "The Writers of the Future Competition." (The best competition for fiction writers,) and I suggested that she enter.

She began writing "The Reluctant Familiar." Writing fast. Really fast. I have never seen anyone write 2000 words in an hour while simultaneously chatting online. (Chatting with me in this case.) I was impressed. Even more impressed when I saw the quality of her rough work.

It wasn't rough. No. More like polished work from people who have been writing for years. The characters were distinct, the settings vivid, the voice beautiful. The pacing was off for like, what was it honey, one paragraph? Yeah. One. She fixed it before I finished pointing it out.

Past Advice

I gave Kimberly her "WAS" advice: how you should avoid using the word in fiction whenever possible. (You end up with more active verbs and effective descriptions.) She understood it right away--most people don't. Once again, I was impressed.

I asked Kimberly to look over my work, help me with edits. She did. And she did wonderfully. She understood the voice I was going for, the mood, the effect of every line.

Often, writers disregard the intention of the author when suggesting edits. Not Kimberly. She knew where I wanted to go. And she helped me get there.

Honestly, I have never met a writer who understood my work so deeply. Who understood me so deeply. Kimberly wasn't only looking at my style and technique. She was looking at me as a person.

That was it. I had to have her as a writing partner. I had to establish a friendship and partnership with her that would last forever.

I did.

All creative works grow into something more. Take on a life of their own.

But this one.

This one grew into something even more.

This one grew into love.

When Kimberly Met Dmytry

Ok, I’ll admit it. I was worried. You know how it is. When someone you’ve recently met offers to let you read their work, or you ask to read their work, or whatever. I think I asked him for his work. I like reading new authors. But. BUT. There’s that secret little fear. 

What if he SUCKS? Then what?

He seemed a nice guy. I am a former entertainment critic for an LA-based daily newspaper. 

I don’t do subtle.

I’m not a horrid person. Honest. I’m just…well…honest. Too honest.

Most people who ask for feedback are really asking for a pat on the back. 

But with me, you need to be CLEAR about this. 

I don’t want to kick you in the butt if you really just wanted to be coddled. And honestly, if you want that, I’m not really your girl. 

So. I was nervous.

The first story I read of his was a Halloween flash for a competition.

I LOVED it! Honestly. And boy was I relieved. ‘Cuz I liked this guy, even if at this point I had NO inkling I would spend my life with him. 

Then he sent me another short story. This time he wanted an editing critique. 

Uh oh. Really? You sure about this? Last chance! Ok. You asked for it. 

I LOVED this one too. And by now was seeing his style. His twisty, dark, delightful style. 

I gave a critique. We talked about word choice and voice and how awesome the twist was. He listened. He learned. His story was better. 

Then. THEN. I wrote a story. For a competition he introduced me to. 

And he LOVED it. And. And he gave awesome feedback. 

I used the word “was” too many times. We looked at word choice. Story flow. Characters.

I listened. I learned. And my story was better.

I realized something in that moment. 

I’d met my match. My writerly match. (Yes, this is a new word, in the vein of literarily but for writers, and as a writer, I get to make up words so shoosh about it.)

He had a unique brilliance at seeing the flow and structure of a story. Catching the stumbly parts. (mmhmm, I did it again with the new word thing.) Seeing the ways in which it could be strengthened. 

 

Most of my college professors were less helpful in my writing. Less astute and in tune with my style and vision.

I wasn’t in love yet. But damn I was in something! 

And so it went. We wrote. We talked. We grew as writers. We grew as friends. 

And then. We crossed the line. You know, that one moment you use clever words to tumble into something more than friendship, something, mainly because of our age difference, neither of us had even felt was possible. 

But the words kept coming. We love words. Love playing with words. And we loved the feel of these words on our lips. We couldn’t stop. And so here we are. So merrily in love as to induce vomiting and eye rolling in many. 

We’d made a rule. At the beginning. Never fall in love with me, I told him. He told me the same. Sacred oath. We shalt never fall in love with thy other. Or whatever. I never did understand Old English English. 

Of course, as any woman knows, the fastest way to make a guy fall in love with you is to tell him not to. I guess maybe this really doesn’t have anything at all to do with our writing or deeper connections. I simply uttered those magic words. 

Who knew?

TELL US:

The Story of YOU: How did you meet the most significant person in your life? (other than your children.)

Launching Our ♥ Love ♥ Blog!

It's HERE! The night we launch our new blog. 

We were too excited to even wait for a more blog-launch-appropriate day. Like, say, Tuesday. Tuesday is the day when all the cool peeps read blogs apparently. Saturday night, not so much. 

But, we are impatient. Well, one of is more so than the other. 

K: Pfft, he's talking about ME. I have this problem, with that patient thing. As in, I'm not.

D: It's endearing, honey. One of the many reasons I love you. 

K: Awww, see, this is why I LOVE this man. But, okay, I think someone just threw up a little in their mouths. So back to the post.

OK. Where were we. Oh yes. We couldn't wait. Even without any real content. Or a point to this post at all. We decided to launch anyways. Mostly because we feel very clever at having figured out how to put a heart between our names. Don't you love that!?!

So, what can you expect from us? 

Well, here's a top 10 list for why you should follow us. Ready? OK!

10. We're funny. Honest. Sometimes we're serious. But even then, we can be funny. You'll see.

9. We are both professional writers. Like, people pay us and stuff. So, presumably, we know how to write stuff you'll want to read. Hey, that's more than a lot of people can claim!

8. We reach many demographics. Dmytry is college age. Kimberly has been a single mom of three for awhile and is in her early 30s. We got lots of bases covered with this!

7. We have unbelievably cute kids. And they are brilliant and funny and will be making random appearances with their wickedly witty ways. 

6. We're consistent in our posting! You'll never be at a lack for something to read by us together (or individually on our own blogs.) 

5. We're sickeningly in love. (What, this isn't a plus for you? Awww come on, it's cute.) 

4. We represent a very wide range of issues: Age differences in relationships, blended families, adoptive parents, couples who work together, the writing life, and well...there's probably more. You get the idea!

3. We were hot by ourselves, but as a couple we are sinfully delicious. *evil grin*

2. We write all range of genres from fiction, non-fiction and ghostwriting. This seems like it should make us more interesting, right? We're hoping it does. 

1. We will likely NEVER do a Top 10 List again! 

And there you have it folks! Any questions? 

Well we have one. What do you want to read about? Give us your ideas and we will try to make it happen. 

A big thanks and hugs and love to all of you who encouraged and supported us on this journey. 

Love,

Kimberly & Dmytry