… you need a Midol, even when it’s not “that time.” (“That time” clearly translating into hellfire, brimstone and destruction. Which, based on my history, can also be called “February.”)
I just went from having a migraine to dancing around my office. Midol is my crack rock, I tell you. If it’s ever made illegal, the gubmint had better build more prisons. 😉
Another holiday season down the shitter. Whee.
Actually, it wasn’t too bad. I did one nice gift each for my mom and grandfather (I couldn’t do anything last year, so I tried to make up for it), and I also loaded them up in the car one night and dragged them to go to see the Festival of Lights in Wheeling, W.Va.
I’ve seen the lights dozens of times — it’s a driving tour through a golf/resort area. Mostly, I’ve gone down there with friends and gotten shitfaced drunk for really cheap. Ah, those were the days. 😉
In any event, a woman we saw at the Festival (we stopped to use the restroom near the planetarium, and you cannot even enter the building without paying $7 per person) stopped us on the way in and handed us three admission tickets. Wow! I was blown away — I seriously never expect anyone to do anything nice, so that was a lovely Christmas surprise — thanks to her, we got to go in and see a cute little (OK, it was sort of hokey, but still) laser light show and we also walked through the little zoo area.
They were so happy for the road trip — my family doesn’t have a concept of hopping in the car and just doing whatever comes to mind. I’m the spontaneous one of the bunch — I’m also the only one with any spunk left, unfortunately. Hence, I sort of tossed everyone into the car and didn’t really say what I was up to. Funny how you go from being the little kid who’s dragged everywhere to being the activities director. Read the rest of this entry »
When you were younger, did you have a pact with certain friends that, if y’all were still single by whatever the age (back when 30 and 40 used to seem SOOOOOO old), you’d get married?
Seriously, I have eight and a half years to find somebody good, lest I have to honor any one of those promises. *shudder* What was I thinking back then?!?! 😉
You can always tell when it’s payday week ’round here because I can give up foraging the hacienda for cockroaches to toast and I actually order food. The other night, I ordered pizza. Last night, I stopped at my favorite Chinese place, only to recognize the guy behind me as the guy who’d delivered my pie (he was wearing an item with his company logo, so I was sure). Wonder if I’ll see him wherever I plan to stop for dinner tonight!
I wasn’t expecting fireworks and confetti or anything like that, but standing here, sleep-deprived and spent, I want to somehow celebrate — you guessed it — this:
The story isn’t over, of course, but it is a good time to take a break. I need to dream up something rather dastardly, and believe it or not, that simply isn’t my nature. I get good and mad in life, don’t get me wrong. Rev me up and watch my head spin. But honestly? I’m more apathetic than anything.
A REAL FIRST — AND HOPEFULLY NOT THE LAST FIRST
I mean, I just don’t finish things I start. EVER. One thing I miss about being in upper management (and perhaps it’s the only thing) is the possibility of having a really good staff who would listen to my visions and execute my ideas with whatever methodology worked best for them. Because left to my own devices, all those ideas got trapped in my head when something more shiny caught my eye.
So, that I wrote 115 pages, well, damn. Go, me. But what scares me? That I will leave my poor characters suspended in their drama — that I will look at the book next October and go, enh. Didn’t get to finish it. Oh well. Too bad, so sad.
I was kind of thinking about how to do something evil to my beloved characters when I realized that I walk away from everything. Not intentionally, but when I’m done with something, I’m really done. I don’t mean to be that way — but when I give up, there’s no going back.
POWER FAILURES, GENERATORS
I was asking my mom the other day why I seem to put off so many people (we were talking about particular people). She reminded me that I was put off by THEM in the first place, so of course they weren’t going to find me lovable. Heh. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
She also revealed that I intimidate the shit out of practically everyone I meet. Mild little me? Was she for real? She said few people know who they are and can articulate it at every turn, and that makes some people quake in the presence of that trait.
I don’t know. I don’t know that I’m all that strong or smart or even ambitious anymore. I just feel like I’ve lost chunks of my life and, thus, pieces of my identity — and “completing” (as it were) my novel gave me back the power I’d lost
TO START ANEW OR TO CONTINUE, THAT IS THE QUESTION
I realize that, in never finishing things I start, I’ve walked away from numerous arguments and situations — ranging from the volatile to the downright frustrating or just BORING — because that’s my nature. Things in my past are dead to me. Sure, I reflect here and there, but it’s mostly to examine what happened so I can learn a lesson and REALLY nail the coffin to the past.
One lesson I’ve picked up is that my impatience is overpowering. I want immediate results or I don’t want to play the game. Or maybe I can wait for awhile but then I become a pressure cooker of sorts.
So the neat thing about NaNoWriMo was that I was the only one who could make myself win. I had to organize my time to allow for two extended periods away from the computer. I was the one who had to budget whether an extra hour of sleep or that extra thousand words would make me feel more alive.
The latter always won.
And thus, so did I.
So, I’m not so sure I made an actual point with this entry. Maybe all I was looking to do was see it in black-and-white that I set my mind to kick ass, and I did. And that I need to keep up the momentum by kicking my OWN ass because the pressure of the deadline is gone.
I don’t work well without deadlines and certainly not with arbitrary ones. For as free-spirited as I am, there’s a part of me that craves structure. I am a taskmaster when I want to be, but if no one’s holding me accountable, well, the free spirit reigns supreme.
Maybe I’m afraid of committing to anything (or, let’s face it, anyone) because I’m so afraid I’m going to lose that spirit. But maybe what I hadn’t considered all these years is that, the more familiar I am with someone/something, the more creative I can become in keeping things interesting.
Which is why I’ve opted to write a book series for NaNoWriMo every year as opposed to new, wacky and wild storylines. Because I know these characters so well that it actually DOES hurt me to hurt them. But that’s what makes me fix up their boo-boos after I’ve finished annhilating their lives.
And maybe, to bring this full circle, that’s what I need to do with me. Be patient, gather my strength and rock socks in any way I can. Even if it’s a series of quiet victories rather than the huge splash I’d rather be making.
Someday, I’ll get my fireworks. And maybe I’ll be able to relax and watch them sparkle and shine. Maybe someday, others will be watching me do the exact same thing.
The newscasters must have been watching me drive home tonight when they thought they spotted a tornado possibly about to rip through D.C. proper. Because it should always take between 5:45 p.m. and 8 p.m. to get home from work. Jesus Christ.
And seriously? It really does rain less in Seattle. I’m sick of this crap.
More lovely randomness ahead. Slippery when wet, kids. Tread carefully.
MMM, ITALIAN
Mom makes the best stuffed shells on the planet. She uses meat. Mmm. I really need to get her sauce and filling recipe. The woman is a magnificent cook. She sent shells home with me and I snarfed ’em up tonight. Yum.
WARDROBE CRISIS
Oh, and WTF is “festive business attire”? Anyone? Because I need to come up with something, stat. Preferably something that doesn’t make me look like a sparkly Macy’s parade float. Which, admittedly, is overly likely no matter what I do.
WAXING POETIC
Today’s my friend Shan’s birthday. Happy birthday, girl! Thank you for being such a spectacular friend so that I could see how easy this friendship thing is supposed to be. Good friendships take work, of course, but we both learned that it shouldn’t *feel* like work. Yay for us finding each other in this world and keeping close despite 3,000 miles between us. We haven’t lost a minute, and I love you for that.
HOLD-MY-HAIR-BACK-WHILE-I-PUKE CUTE
I talk to Shan’s daughter Alex on the phone all the time. She’s 2 1/2 and as smart as can be. Love that kid. Normally I hate when people put their kids on the phone (I have old blog entries that I pulled offline that can prove it), but when Alex wants me, I’m thrilled.
She got a new babydoll the other day. Shan called me to put Alex on the phone, who happily chattered that she named her doll “Aunt Dawn.” How nauseatingly CUTE is that?!?!
SAY WHA?!?!
I was joking with Mom (who is so psychic I cannot stand it) when I’ll be able to find a son-in-law for her (hence, a good guy for me). She said she really didn’t know, but she sees a grandson, if I choose to have it. *eeek!*
The funny thing? Much as I hate kids (minus Alex, natch), I always figured I’d want a boy over a girl. And only one — god, only one. I can barely manage two cats who, for the past two nights, have gotten treats for dinner because I have yet to buy them wet food.
Based upon my conversation with Mom above, I had the weirdest dream last night. Yes, I was knocked up. Yes, it was a boy. Yes, there was actually a father somewhere in the dream. And I got dialogue for the book I’m ALMOST DONE WRITING. Whee!
NANOWRIMO: THE EPILOGUE
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45,000 / 50,000
(90.0%) |
National Novel Writing Month is drawing to a close. I’m hovering at 45,000 words. No sleep tonight, kids. I’m only halfway through my outlined scenes at this point, but I’m going to keep going. I owe it to my characters.
And I wrote it fairly bare-bones — no real details like scenery and colors and crap like that. It’s mainly inner monologues and dialogues — almost journalistic in the approach, waffling between editorializing and reporting. And soft-core porn. This thing could very well spiral into the 100,000-word abyss stretch when all is said and done.
Boy, have I screwed up their lives. Heh. Makes me feel SO much better about my own! Well, sort of. 😉
FUNNY HOW THE TORNADO ALERT ENDS NOW THAT I’M HOME
From AlertDC: “The National Weather has canceled the Tornado Watch for the District of Columbia and surrounding jursidictions.” Whee.
