Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Howdy, sorry I've been away from my site for several months, but I have been dealing with something personal I have been suffering from all my life.  I've spent my whole life secretly riding a mentally and emotionally draining mood rollercoaster. I can go for weeks or month feeling wonderful, joyful, funny, social, talkative and on top of the world.

Then some small thing can occur and all of a sudden, for the next few weeks or months,(while still able to go to work and take care of my child) I am now depressed, sad, hopeless and unable to engage in or maintain close personal and social contact with friends and family.

During this period, I feel alone and isolated and become anxious at the thought of talking to anyone or spending time with anyone outside of people in my work environment and or my daughter at home. I am a good actress, but it is extremely draining when you are in a major depressive phase to find the energy to drag yourself out of bed in the morning, when all your depressed self wants to do is remain in the bed, under the covers and sleep for as long as it takes until depression runs it's course and you're back out of the tunnel and into the sun again. But if you're like me and absolutely refuse to give up your life, career and child to your depression, so you haul ass every morning and pretend to the world and to everyone you come in contact with that you are just like everyone else, but inside you know you're not. I have spent all my life creating and perfecting the normal,self-confident, funny, bright, calm girl facade I wear out in public every day to hide the real me ( or at least the real me my depressed mind convinces me I am) Behind my facade hides an insecure, anxious, nervous, sad, imperfect person who struggles everyday with pretending to be someone I'm not.

CHRIST COMPLEX coming soon.....

My friends,filmmakers, Jeff Richards & Travis Stephens are working on bring their vision, CHRIST COMPLEX to fruition.  I love to help so make sure you keep you eyes peeled in the future for CHRIST COMPLEX.

Independent Filmmaker Uses Web to Produce Movie
Huntington, WV - September 27, 2010  
West Virginia filmmakers are utilizing new online tools to make their projects a reality.

Jeff Richards is one of these filmmakers using Indiegogo, a website launched in 2008, to help individuals fund their creative and entrepreneurial projects.

“Christ Complex is your typical romantic comedy. Girl meets boy. Boy believes he is the world's savior. Boy fights (his) best friend to the death in order to stop the Apocalypse. It's kind of like Ryuhei Kitamura's Versus meets When Harry Met Sally.” Jeff explains.

“Websites like Indiegogo help the independent artist achieve their dreams through means of crowdsurfing.” says Richards. Crowdsurfing is the basis of the DIWO (Do It With Others) concept taken on by Indiegogo, which provides the ability to push the Indiegogo webpage over social networking platforms, such as Facebook and Twitter, to gain exposure.

Richards notes “Each campaign on the site can choose what perks to make available for each level donated. For instance, those donating ten dollars to Christ Complex will receive a producer credit, one hundred dollars and the donator will receive co-producer credit, a signed copy of the DVD, a signed movie poster and the option of have a character in the movie named after themselves or a friend.”

If you are interested in learning more about Christ Complex, or would be interested in contributing a tax-deductible donation, please visit

Writer/ Director Jeff Richards
Executive Producer Wm Stephens


Friday, April 9, 2010

Good Lord Almighty, there is a whole lot of WRONG and WTF? going on in the world today. I almost can't take it, but it's at difficult times like these I just hand the wheel over to Jesus :)

1. Dog Chews Off Baby's Testicles, Mom Loses…
2.Russia furious over adopted boy sent back from US
3. Elizabeth Taylor, 78, to Wed for 9th Time — to 49-Year-Old! 
4. Muslim woman strangled by her burkha in freak go-kart accident...
5. Jail Me Elmo? Police say dad called school to fetch pot from kindergartners Elmo backpack


Wednesday, April 7, 2010


This is dedicated to all those skeevie people who email me on a daily basis ( and fill my SPAM folder to capacity) with their supposed knowledge about my sex life ( or lack thereof), my alleged interest in legal and illegal prescription medications, my need for international job leads, my alleged interest in engaging in extramarital affairs and introductions to freaky people who want to do freaky things to me and with me; SKEEVIE PEOPLE PLEASE STOP EMAILING ME!!!!!!

You are all disgusting and foul and if Jesus didn’t already have his hands full dealing with Sandra, Jesse, Tiger and the millions of viewers praying that Kate Gosselin gets booted off ‘Dancing With The Stars’ next week, he would definitely send some lightning bolts your way with your names engraved on them.

Seriously. Stop bothering me and stop my making my YAHOO email work so dayum hard. I don’t know where you have received your information, but you are sorely incorrect in regards to my prescription medication needs and preferences in sexual activity partners.
You just don’t know me as well as you think you do, and your emails are insulting to me.

You all should be ashamed of yourselves for harassing hard-working Christian folks like myself in such a vile way on a daily basis. You are all losers and there are seats in hell with your names on them ( you will all be seated together in the eternal flames with those sinners from that devil band KISS and that nasty tattooed nazi chick that broke up my sweet Sandra Bullock’s marriage).




The first thing I’d like to know is when and where has my 7 yr old budding fashionista spent time hanging around hobos? I also asked myself when was the last time I heard someone actually use the word “hobo”?  But just last week, my overly precocious and equally exasperating mini diva informed me one morning before school, that she wouldn’t be able to wear the cute new plaid long sleeve shirt I purchased for her because in her words, “ She was not going to school dressed like a hobo.”

After my initial shock wore off, I then had to give her my momma’s stock’ I know fashion, you don’t speech”, because honestly what does my 7 yr old daughter know about the fashion inspirations of driftless homeless males who spend their days jumping on and off of train cars in various train yards around the country. Seriously, a hobo? Seriously? Even the homeless people you see in L.A. aren’t called hobos, or at least not in my presence and I have certainly never noted a preponderous of  these men wearing sz 7/8, lovely teal, pink and green plaid shirts from the little girls department in Tarjay.

For any other mommies or daddies out there who occasionally find yourselves in early morning fashion stand-offs before school, feel free to copy my frequently used “momma’s knows fashion and you don’t” speech below.

 It goes like this:
“Sweet pea, (speaking to daughter), I don’t know what would make you think that this lovely blouse that momma bought for you would make you look like a hobo, but you are mistaken. I know fashion, you do not. Momma has lived far more decades than you and I can assure you I would never dress you in a way that would reflect badly on me. (This is soo true, I’m shallow this way)

Sweet pea’s response: “The kids at school will tell me they think it’s ugly.”

Now I am riled, because if there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s my child deferring to the unproven and underdeveloped intellect of her 7 yr old school yard peers.

My response, (which I have told her numerous times in the past and will continue to repeat until I die).
“Sweet pea, how many times has momma told you that you do not base your decision making on those little kids you go to school with? Those little kids know less than you do. You make decisions based on what momma tells you not little kids who pick their nose, pee their pants and still can’t tie their own shoes. Seriously, sweetpea why would you want to make your decisions based on what your grubby little friends think? These kids are gonna be lucky if they grow up and earn a GED by the age of 30. These are not the people to be telling you what to do or how to do it. Seriously.”

This part our discourse usually makes her see the error of her ways, so even though she acquiesced and said she would wear the lovely teal, pink and green plaid shirt to school,  she did clarify that once she got to school she was going to take it off and put it in her backpack; because she still didn’t want to look like a hobo.

And this was how this particular morning prepping for 1st grade with a budding fashionista played out. Momma couldn’t wait to get to work.


Tuesday, April 6, 2010

If you love gossip and smut like I do, ( still working with Jesus to overcome this addiction), then this Sunday April 11th you need to put those babies down to bed, send your man or woman to the kitchen to clean up those dinner dishes, grab your bottle of Pinot and sit down to tune into to VH1's newest drama-fest, BASKETBALL WIVES, exec-produced by Shaunie O'Neal ( of soon to be Shaq's ex-wife).


My 7 yr old musical diva is currently obsessed with watching the dvd of the 1992 Kenny Ortega directed, Christian Bale starring musical NEWSIES. This little girl wants to watch this dvd every chance she gets, before breakfast, during the day, before bed, etc.

I personally do not want to watch it even though from all the clips I've had to endure viewing accidentally, it seems to be a: set in the same time period, more testosterone filled, musical version of ANNIE (  with a young pre-Batman Returns, Christian Bale singing and dancing.)

At least we have finally moved on from her previous musical obsession which was THE SOUND OF MUSIC all day and all night :)

RIPPED- a poem by Felica Devers

Thursday, April 1, 2010

there is a shadow that covers my soul
a rip in the center of my existence
crying i cannot control
inside where no one can hear it

i long for a day of calm seas
like children playing innocent and endless
their laughter i long to imitate
and the knowledge this aching will cease

but this sadness will linger forever
this ageless insufferable gray
this cloak that i wear through
the sunshine and rain
melancholy day after day

and still there is a shadow that covers my soul
a rip in the center of my existence
crying i cannot control
inside where no one can hear it
written by felica devers copyright 2010


Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Let me preface this list I am writing today by stating I am not perfect and I have ADHD, OCD, mood disorder, chronic disorganization, some slight hoarding tendencies, lack of maturity, over abundance of goofiness and this is about it for now or all I can think of at this moment. I am just telling you this so you will always read what I write with a grain of salt. Some days I am seriously shocked that I have been allowed to raise and nurture an impressionable small human being. Although in the case of me and my precocious and uber articulate daughter, it is I who is the impressionable human who is being raised and nurtured.

Now on to my thoughts for the day:

1. Sandra Bullock’s soon to be ex husband, Jesse James is NOT a sex addict. This is an insult to all of us who really suffer from this debilitating, embarrassing, yet occasionally orgasmic disorder. Sex addiction is NOT a joke. Jesse is just a cheating whore dog, no more no less.

2. Ricky Martin coming out to confirm that yes he is gay is “so what?”. My blind, deaf and senile great-auntie up in the hills of Kentucky knew this 5 years ago.

3. WTF are the women in Moscow mixing with their Smirnoff to account for these recent bombings?

Inspirational quote for the day:
“Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.”


Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I found out this morning that the father of one of my daughter’s first grade classmates cursed out his daughter’s teacher (In front of his 7 year old daughter).

How utterly sad for this impressionable little girl that yesterday the most memorable thing the most important man in her life did was call her first grade teacher a bitch in his daughter’s presence.

What did this father teach his little girl with one foul word?
- All women are ‘bitches’.
- You don’t have to respect your teacher, she’s just a ‘bitch’.
- If my Daddy can call my first grade teacher a bitch, then I can call her and anyone else I don’t like a ‘bitch’.
- I can go to school and do what I want when I want and behave however I want and I my teacher doesn’t like it, so what, she’s just a ‘bitch’.

Fast forward 11 years into the future and because of this father’s disrespectful behavior, he may have sabotaged his daughter’s chance for educational success. While all of her other classmates are graduating from high school and looking forward to bright productive futures, his little girl may be dealing with the consequences of the lessons she learned from her father years before.

- She was taught not to respect others so she didn’t respect her teachers and classmates and didn’t perform well in school.
- She was taught to be disrespectful to anyone she disagreed with, so she may have ended up suspended or expelled from school more than once.
- Daddy called teacher a ‘bitch’, Daddy called momma a ‘bitch’, Daddy even called her a ‘ little bitch’ so it was ok when other young boys began to call her a bitch as well.
- She didn’t respect others, she didn’t respect herself and expected no one to respect her either; so she just became another young girl with no education, low self esteem and no future.

Thank you, Dad.


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

I am taking some time to get some stuff together. I'll be back more obnoxious than ever in a few weeks.


Tuesday, January 12, 2010

My name is Felica and I am a Clutterer, Hoarder and I am Chronically Disorganized. I procrastinate like nobody’s business. If it wasn’t for the last minute, I would get nothing done. I have 6 large drawers in my home that are filled with mail, papers, magazines, stuff I’ve clipped out of magazines, newspapers, etc. any bare surface in home is like a clutter magnet. But I am always cleaning. I am constantly clearing surfaces but I get anxious at the thought of sorting thru everything, so I shove it all in drawers, the top of my closets and tell myself I will go through it all later. My purse is large and brimming with pieces of note paper, gum, a Sudoku book, and too many other things to name and I can’t find anything I need when I need it quickly. I don’t like wallets. I’d rather have my dazzling array of plastic cards (license, credit cards, bank card, grocery store discount cards) floating happy and free in the deep abyss that is my purse. My lovely sister gave me the most awesome leather Liz Claiborne wallet for Christmas. I used it once and I found it to be too confining. I know this statement sounds crazy. This constant lack of organization is crazy. I feel like I am turning into one of those lonely old ladies with a houseful of cats, except for the cat part. I don’t have any cats. I thought downsizing into a smaller place would make things better, but it hasn’t. I now just have less room to hide things.

I watch that horribly entertaining A&E show, HOARDERS. I am nowhere near as bad as the folks I see on that program, but I feel like it would be so easy for me to slide in that direction. But after watching how horrible chronic disorganization can become and knowing I don’t ever want to live in mountains of crap and possibly end up dying in my home suffocated by my stuff. I develop emotional attachments to ridiculous items and find it extremely hard to even think about throwing them away.

Why am I airing my dirty laundry, so to speak? Because, there is nothing worse than feeling like no one else in the world could possibly have the same issues you do. When you know that you are not alone, you feel better about yourself and your life.

If you’d like to read more about Hoarders, Clutterers, ADD & Chronic Disorganization visit any of the sites below:


Friday, January 8, 2010

I didn't write this, but dayum I wish I had!!!
A woman over 40 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?"

She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 40 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.

A woman over 40 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 40 give a hoot what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 40 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. Women over 40 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. They always know.

A woman over 40 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 40+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.

(Some say that Andy Rooney, is the author of this piece, but according to Urban Legends, its source is a mishmash of authors.)


Thursday, January 7, 2010

I came across this video called PREGNANT WOMEN ARE SMUG by musical duo Garfunkel & Oates. It is effin HI- LAR-EEEE-US.

Speaking from experience, when I was pregnant with my mini diva, short of missing her father and the early morning sickness, being pregnant wasn’t too bad. That being said, I don’t think I could stomach ( no pun intended) being pregnant every year though like Mother Earth herself, Michelle Duggar ( of my uterus is on life support ) birth mom (factory) to 19 kiddies.

I am now at near the end of my child-bearing road, if my bitchy mood swings and constant body temp of 100 degrees are signs. There was a time after the birth of my daughter where I desperately wanted to produce at least 2 more wee little earthlings that would closely resemble myself. Now 7 years later ( MY BABY’S BIRTHDAY IS TODAY, SHE IS 7 YEARS OLD, HELL YEAH  ) that desperate feeling of reproducing more mini-me’s has ebbed quite a bit. If I met a great, funny fella who could afford to allow me to be a stay at home mom ( I’d still be working on my writing from home) I would consider becoming pregnant again. Of course I don’t have too much time left and that whole dating and falling in love thing sometimes takes a couple of years or so. I still love children, so I would certainly welcome someone else’s kids into my life as long as they had no juvie records or assault charges against them.

Anyway, I digress, yes pregnant women are smug. Why shouldn’t they be? Sure, millions of women throughout history have given birth and sure, most animals give birth one way or another, but still for the one woman who is pregnant, her pregnancy is usually the most life defining moment experience she will go through.

Yeah, there are other great goals, women can accomplish in their lives, but when a women dies, in her obituary it doesn’t read, “ Kate is dead, but dayum she made Sales Person of the Year in 2001 and she outsold everyone on her team.” Nope, most women’s obituaries usually say, “ Kate is dead and she is survived by Mabel, her lovely daughter and Joe, her hunky son.” ( more or less reads like this).

Anyway, when I die, the only accomplishment I will feel proudest of is the fact that I created another human being and raised them to be a (hopefully) wonderful, productive human being, and that’s it. The amount of money I earned in my life, will not matter as much as the wee one I created, my child. Maybe, this is why some pregnant women are smug, they know they are creating something far more enduring and incredible and lasting than sales figures, books sold, accounts won.

Do you hear that sound? I think it’s the sound of my biological ticking like a gong. I want another baby………………


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

 I think I might be regressing age-wise. I have now discovered a (new to me) well-known, tasty and nutritious snack. I am now carrying around little zip lock baggies of Honey Nut Cheerios in my purse and they are not for my munchkin, they are for momma to snack  I am on. I am seriously addicted to dry handfuls of Honey Nut Cheerios and I am popping them into my mouth right now as I type. Yummmmmmmy and good for you.

This past weekend I had a little free time since my lil diva was at her dad’s probably chattering his ears off, and I watched a lil film called, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY. Can I tell you this little movie ( cost srsly $11,000 to make and has earned over $40 million to date) scared the crappola out of me, no joke.  Since then every noise I hear in my place makes me jump 10 feet.

Tomorrow is mi hija’s birthday ( in Spanish, this means “my daughter”) and she turns 7 years old. Yippeee!!!

Now check out this video I found on youtube:
Let's all pray for this lovely lady who walks around in her own permenant piece of heaven. Can I get some of what she's smokin ?


Monday, January 4, 2010

Howdy, I'm baaaaaack, And more bitter and bitchier than ever! Over the Holidays, I attempted to perform a computer intervention on myself.  I felt I needed a brief detoxification from all things electronic except for my TV, DVD player and my bestest friend, TIVO.

It worked , now I feel like a brand new person, well almost, my SNARK remains as Snarky as ever.

Check out the pic below from my friends over at
Looking at this lady makes me want to tie rope around my nipples and yank both ends over my shoulders and tie a tight knot around my neck. I'd ask if she can spell B-R-A, but she probably cannot even spell A-B-C.
This is one case where if I saw her shoplifting a brassiere in Wal-Mart, I would do my civic duty and Let Her. God knows if anyone needs a little lift, she does.


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