Luck

I was reading this article this afternoon (actually, I'm not finished with it while I write these words, but I needed to express my feelings), and it struck me how very, deeply lucky I have been.

The article, in case you don't feel like reading it, is about poverty, and why poor people tend to stay poor. And I remembered several things suddenly, like when the student loan lady told me that if my income was below 150% of the poverty line, I could take some time off from paying back my loan (which I was having trouble doing), and how I laughed when I found out what the poverty line was, and how far below it I was. It wasn't funny, of course.

It was the closest to independent I ever have been or probably will be. My parents weren't paying for my housing, like in college. I wasn't living with a man that I was dating, who took care of most of the bills because he made more money than me, like just after college. I was living in a two-bedroom apartment with a friend, rent and utilities split 50/50, each of us buying our own food. I was working part-time at a grocery store, and had no insurance.

What I did have--and this, plus luck, is what kept my head above water--was two dear friends (H&B), who helped me out immeasurably. Later, they helped me get an appointment at a free clinic, which is the first time I ever had treatment for my depression. They also helped me get a counselor at Vocational Rehabilitation, which didn't end up doing anything for me but get me the official diagnoses of Major Depressive Disorder and Anxiety (NOS)*, and a score in the 99th percentile of a test designed for people who work with computers to test if I have an aptitude for working with computers (answer: YES).

And those I got from my Psych Eval (necessary to determine if I qualified for state help), and my Voc Eval (to see what I was good at (nearly everything) and what I had an aptitude for), not from Voc Rehab itself. I'm sure it's a fine program for most people, but it just didn't do much for me.

Anyway, H&B also got me on food stamps, and helped me legally change my name without paying the courts an obscene amount of money.

I was also dating a gentleman who would sometimes buy me groceries or give me twenty bucks. It helped me float.

Moving on.

I was working minimum wage, part time. I was barely making it. I did not have the physical or mental strength when I got home to try to find a second job, or even a replacement job that I might not hate so much.

It got better when I got food stamps (with the help of H&B**), but please try to understand how it felt when my good friend at work, who had gotten me the job, rang up my groceries one day and realized that I was paying with food stamps. Her face completely changed and she stopped her friendly banter, and just finished ringing me up very quietly. There's nothing like needing food stamps when you work at a grocery store.

Luck: I never got badly ill, or injured. Except for the depression treatment which I wasn't getting, I never needed any kind of expensive medical care. I never needed any kind of meds I couldn't get over the counter (until they stopped making albuterol inhalers available OTC, but by then I had a doctor at a free clinic, and if they weren't able to get it for me for free, then they were able to get it for me very cheaply).

Luck: I did not get fired from my job, despite being late a lot due to sleep issues and generally hating my job and thus not being motivated to try harder--which I recognize is one of those things that people think about poor people, but I didn't just like to complain about my job. Most people tend to treat baggers as furniture, which is marginally preferable to getting yelled at for not being a mind-reader. There were some people who were decent, and even a few who tried to tip me, which was against store policy, but I took the tips anyway, because I was broke as hell, but the majority of the time, I was so miserable that later, when I had a psychiatrist, she actually told me to quit my job because it was making my depression worse. By then I could, so I did. It took over a year to recover.***

Luck: I always had a place to live. For a while, that was with my parents, in a different county from all my friends and everywhere I wanted to be, but still. For about three months, it was with a friend who didn't ask for rent money, because I had just moved back to Salt Lake from my parents' house, and I didn't have a job yet. Then I moved in with my friend, who needed a new roommate, and I was something approaching independent for a while.

I miss that. I don't miss the job that drove me crazy, or the stressing about money, or the ever-present feeling that although I had my own room and was paying my half of the rent, I was merely squatting at that apartment, because my friend-turned-roommate had just lived there for so long that I could never make it feel like home. I don't miss having no energy to do anything I wanted to do, partially from the job, partially from depression, partially from health issues that I've only begun to address ...

But I do miss feeling independent.

Because here's the biggest luck of all: I began dating, and then married, a gentleman who had a decent paycheck, insurance, etc. That wasn't, of course, the reason for our relationship. But looking back ... I know that if I had remained single after breaking up with the guy who occasionally bought me groceries, instead of jumping almost immediately into another relationship ... I have no idea where I would be. Still treading water, maybe, if my luck had continued. Or maybe I'd be drowning, because no one's luck lasts forever.  

But I would not be where I am now: dancing, writing, sewing things for people, with a job that I can actually stand (which I couldn't have if I was on my own, because I don't get nearly enough hours, which is why I have time and energy to make costumes for my burlesque sisters and write stories and try to get them published), and actually pretty happy.  And that is mostly just luck (and some very dear friends).  

***

* Not Otherwise Specified, meaning just general anxiety that can't be categorized as anything specific, which I think is incorrect. My anxiety is mostly a social anxiety, brought on by stressful social interactions, like large crowds of people, authority figures exerting authority over me, realizing I've made another person angry, hurt or upset, talking on telephones, etc.

** There was so much that was, at the time, impossible for me to do on my own.  Going to Workforce Services to try to get food stamps was impossible, because of the mental energy required, the getting there (on the bus), the talking to strangers, and the sense of shame I got from asking the government for a handout.  I couldn't talk on the phone (I ducked calls from unknown numbers for years, because I couldn't deal with telling the student loan people--who were all very nice and very helpful--that I couldn't pay them).  H&B offered support, permission, a ride, and made it possible for me to do things I would otherwise have been unable to do.  

*** I quit in August 2013. I wasn't able to start working again until June 2014, and now, at the beginning of 2015, my doctor and my psychiatrist agree that I can start trying to wean off my anti-depressants. I've lowered my dosage of one of my meds, and hopefully, by the end of the year, I'll be off them both and doing fine.   

To be nobody but yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.  -- e. e. cummings

A thing happened today.  Though it inspired me to sit down and write this blog post, this post isn't about the thing that happened, which was frankly triggering for me.  Instead I want to talk about what this thing triggered, why it's a trigger for me, and then probably my general thoughts for a bit.  

From probably the day I was born, I have felt as though who I am, who I want to be, and what I want have been never enough, unacceptable, and/or not real.  I have been told that what I suffer isn't real; I have been treated as though I am worth less than people who made different choices than I did, or who were physically different* from me; I have been ignored; my voice has been overridden or trampled over; I have been ridiculed and abused because of my gender; my wants and desires have been ignored, or twisted for someone else's purpose, or used against me; I have been called disgusting, whore, bitch, merely for being true to who I am.  

I have been searching my entire life for who I am and where I belong, and it shows in my writings and the stories I tell myself**.  

I have fought all my life to be myself and nobody else.  It has been the biggest struggle of my life, and so when the choice is to be myself or to please someone else, my answer, every time, needs to be: be myself.  (It isn't always, of course, old habits being hard to break--but it needs to be.)  For my own sake, but also for the people around me: being happy makes it easier to make others happy, and I am never so miserable as when I'm repressing parts of who I am.  

That is what goes through my head anytime I see something that from the outside looks like someone repressing parts of themselves to make others happy.  Of course, it's likely more complex than that (I understand conflicting desires), but this is still my immediate reaction.  

---

* Mostly, they had penises.

** I'm a changeling, stolen from my home, taken to Faerie, then left in some other human family after the Fae got bored with me.

Yeah, Not So Much

So, instead of working last night, I talked to the two women I wanted for handmaidens for a while, and then I watched (mmph) episodes of Community, which is a totally great show. (I keep telling myself: the episodes are half-an-hour! If this was House, it'd only be three (or four ... ) episodes. It's not that bad, really. Only then I look up how much I did watch last night ... ummm .... )

Anyway, today I'm going to Logan to meet with my parents, and so Dylan's mom can meet my parents, and we can all sit around and chat. And I suppose I can talk about that soon, but the plan for the long drive north is to finally write up the Sunday panels for CONduit.
And, this is it, because I have to be dressed and ready to go Very Soon Now.

Wedding Blog

Started a blog over there. Not sure how it'll work out; the website doesn't really have a good option for blogs, alas.  But anyway, here's the beginning of the first entry ...

Things are starting to feel like they're coming together: We almost have a venue (just one final hurdle that probably won't be too strenuous), I've secured all but one of my "handmaidens", my mom is offering to help with clothing, and my sister Brooks is doing some honeymoon research for us, to help narrow down our options. Keep reading ...

News

Alright, here's the exciting news that is going to yet again take precedence over CONduit's Sunday panels:

Dylan and I are getting married in November. I already told Facebook, but I guess you can't put it too many places. We have a website just for the purpose of the wedding, which will probably get its own--very wedding-oriented--blog. I'll let everyone know whenever that's updated, and I'll probably talk about wedding-stuff here, too, just not as densely.

So far, we're still working out some of the major details--like budget, venue and how many guests. And we have five months. I'm starting to stress out a bit, and unfortunately, I keep telling people we're getting married, so I think eloping is out of the picture.

I'm also feeling like I'm not getting very much accomplished. And this, I'm sure, has somewhat to do with the fact that I don't know where I'm getting married yet, but it also has to do with the fact that I'm not really working on a writing project currently--a friend asked what I was writing and I just sat there and went, Ummmmm ....

And I'm not currently sending anything out because I wanted to edit Ogre and A Ghost Story (which I also want to edit) is hanging out at the Writers of the Future Contest. And that's basically all I've got. I have some poems, which also need a stiff edit, but I'm much less practiced at poetry-writing and -editing, so ... my options seem to be to either send out poems and hope to find markets that give critiques or something ... flashquake gives a couple sentences about why they're rejecting, if that's what they're doing... Or I could try to find a poetry-critiquing group, ideally a local one here, rather than online.

There's also the house: the "office" is still full of boxes. We've done some good work on emptying boxes in the kitchen and living room, but the bedroom is also a mess. Blah. And especially since when my sister comes out to Utah for the wedding, she'll be staying us: it'd be nice if the office was cleared at least enough for her to use it to change, if nothing else.

CONduit: Saturday panels

We slept in somewhat. Meaning, we skipped 10am panels and went straight to 11am panels. We also got to check into our hotel room early, so we didn't have to lug around lots of stuff.*

I was a little late to the Poetry workshop, but only a little. A lot of what was said was about how learning to write poetry will help prose writers write prose better, because you will learn the weight of each word. But there was other stuff about playing with words, using the wrong words intentionally, being redundant on purpose to effect. It was interesting.

Plotting a Novel in an Hour covered three of the four steps Robert Defendi uses when writing a novel: brainstorming (we all threw out random ideas for an urban fantasy involving a farmer whose cow is killed/kidnapped by the Fae, including overall plot, main character plot, love story, locations, and family secrets), order (we organized the ideas of each plot type into chronological order--first he meets the Fairy Princess, then he falls in love with her, etc ... ), and integration (taking the ideas out of the plot subtypes and putting them into the rough order they will happen in the book). The final stage, polish, can take anywhere from 40-120 hours, and you might want to go back and do the other steps over again, because the first ideas are usually crap.


How to Write Great Villains: one of the main things we talked about, I think, was the fact that the villain is the hero of his own story. And the difference between a villain (a being with will, malice, choice) and an antagonist (which could be a tornado, natural disaster, etc.). A villain is clever, and can have something to say (to which Howard Tayler replied, "I think New Orleans should be more like Venice, Italy").
And if your villain is so smart you can't figure out how to have your hero beat him, you have 75% of a novel; give it to a smarter friend to figure out what the hero should do.


SF/F Mystery, a panel about cross-genre writing, could be subtitled: Because genre is an invention of booksellers.** Just keep in mind that mystery readers are perhaps more demanding than SF/F readers in terms of rules: mystery readers are basically reading to solve a mystery, and if the rules for the supernatural don't make sense, the readers will be angry. Carole Nelson Douglas spoke about her Midnight Louie series: he's a cat who solves crimes, but he's still a cat.

Bad Fairy! You're NOT a vampire! was one that I had been looking forward to, and it was somewhat disappointing. Not saying anything about the panelists, but I thought it was going to be something more than talking about non-Twilight vampires--meaning, talking about Twilight as opposed to other vampires. And while there was some interesting stuff about the history of vampires in legend and folklore, and how the fictionalization of vampires has evolved, the best thing I can say about the panel is that, despite the title, no one brought up the Fae as being friendly and shiny and pretty, like the Twilight vampires. I would probably have walked out.

High Fantasy discussed the differences (if any) between high fantasy and epic fantasy. Also, that high fantasy, with its shining good guys and dark bad guys might be coming back into vogue, considering that with some "gritty" fantasy, there's such a Grey And Gray Morality, you lose track of who to root for. And also, avoiding tropes is the new trope.

After that was the Masquerade, where my friend won Best of Show for his Lego Batman costume, and is thus going to a Costume Con; then there was the Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog (and Buffy's Once More With Feeling) Sing-Along, which was awesome. My friends composed about half the room, and there were a couple Dr. Horrible virgins amongst my friends, and that was even more awesome.

And I will post Sunday panels probably tomorrow.

***

 *Note to self: I have to figure out a costume that makes use of carrying packs or something, so I can carry stuff and have that be part of my costume. Being a fairy who carries bags around kinda cramped my style.

**Actually, I heard that in multiple panels.

Gratitude Journal

It's late, so I'm going to be brief ... in fact, I should probably save the story of my gratitude journals for another day.
I actually haven't written in my paper journal yet today ... but I will, just before I go to bed. And what I will write will be way too personal for this public blog.
So I will limit this note to:
1) I am grateful for my friend NF who has been the origin of many of the creative thoughts that have run through my brain lately. Just in case you read this, dear: you're great fun, and I hope to continue brainstorming with you.
2) I'm grateful to DP for understanding me and accepting me as I am.

Okay, I'm fucking tired. Time to get ready for bed.

I'm at a coffee shop in 15th&15th, and I have to work later this afternoon, and I have to make a stop at the downtown library before work, so this won't be long.
Today I made the trek to 15th&15th (my new address is 13th and 10th, so this is about as close as 9th&9th, plus it has The King's English, which 9th&9th certainly doesn't have ... ), and I'm pleased with it. There's an Einstein's Bagels, which unfortunately has nothing I can eat, but I have fond memories of Einstein's from my wheat-eating days (DP and I walking to Einstein's between first and second service, because I hadn't gotten any breakfast ... this was before we were dating). There's a couple restaurants, which would be good if DP and I needed an evening out and were capable of thinking of dinner before ten pm. There's the aforementioned King's English, and the Starbuck's I'm at right now ... unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any little local coffee shops in the area. And there's Tony Caputo's market, which is a little expensive, I think, but it's local and good.

I'm feeling depressed, and I might be cramping/nauseated/hungry; I can't tell. I just know that my middle is uncomfortable.
DP and I (with the help of our dear friends) put in some work in the kitchen, going through the dishes we collectively own. We didn't get through the entire thing, but we now have a decent selection of pots&pans and baking dishes, and we don't have a lot of crappy plastic storage containers--we put the crappy/mismatched ones in either the recycling or the donate box; we'll need some more containers, but good quality. We also have a donate box or two that will hang out for a little while just in case we really miss that one pot, or something. We went through the cleaning supplies, and have some things that we're just going to use up and then replace with environmentally friendlier stuff, and we have a box full of toxic waste that we'll get rid of through the toxic-waste-getting-rid-of-place. (I don't remember what it's called, only that it exists.)
We have enough room in our kitchen for two drying racks--there's a washer that we share with the upstairs people, but no dryer. We may buy a dryer at some point to share with the upstairs people, or we may continue using the drying racks. Two drying racks can dry a decent load of laundry, so I'm inclined to keep doing it this way until this way breaks down, for whatever reason.
Hopefully, there will soon be enough room in our kitchen for two drying racks and a kitchen table. Hopefully, we'll get a kitchen table sometime soon.
We also need to clear out the "Attic", which will be the Office as soon as we get enough boxes out to have both our computers in it. DP is inheriting a desk from a friend of ours, so we need enough space in the room for that Real Soon Now. My desk, complete with computer, is already in there, but I had a desk already.
We made soup the other day; a whole lot of it, because DP has a huge soup pot. Most of it went into the freezer, and I'd like to make another batch soon, but I think we'll need more serving-sized plastic containers first.

Anyway, I need to head out, go home to collect the book that is absolutely due today, and head to the library to drop that off and pick up a book that's on hold for me, so I can eat something before I head to work around 4pm.
Oh, I went to a bike shop DP recommended, and bought panniers for my bike, so that I could ride my bike to and from work, and pick up groceries after work and have a way to carry them. I've been riding down the hill to work, and then biking to the train station, taking the train back up the hill, and then biking home from the train station, but Sunday after work I biked up the hill! It actually took less time than the train route (even assuming that I don't wait for the train at all). I'll have to work up to not needing to rest so much--that hill's a bitch--but it was good.
Anyway, time to go. Love you all.

Summer Solstice

And since I mentioned it in an earlier blog, I'd like to note:
Summer Solstice was wonderful. I went camping with a whole bunch of heathens (that's Celtic/Germanic pagans) and my boyfriend, and it was a good time. There was some form of ritual/worship every day, there was singing (DP and I sang a couple songs ... note to self, find the lyrics to the entirety of 'Blue Boat Home' for next time), and there was general enjoyment of each other's company.
DP and I roasted marshmallows, which fed my soul, because the last time we camped (in March), I failed to remember marshmallows. (Note to self, look for gluten-free graham crackers for s'mores.)
I even wrote a tiny bit--I brought my little computer with me because it has about 7 hours' worth of battery, and I figured it would be useful if I found myself really wanting to write. And I did, a little bit.

Also, since we got back, Steven has given me how-tos for medieval-ish Celtic women's dress, and I'm pretty excited about it. At some point in time, I will go to a fabric store and get some fabric for it, and hopefully have most of an outfit by early August, which is the next Holy Day (Lughnasadh), and the next camping-with-heathens opportunity. (I'll need penannular brooches to hold the thing together, though ... hmmm .... must work on that ... on the other hand, my birthday's in July ... )

Tracking

After two days of doing what I could to not leave a footprint visible--no trail, stepping on sidewalk where I could, or the softest, slushiest snow when sidewalk wasn't available because it would melt the fastest, or the hardest, most packed-in snow because it wouldn't leave as clear an impression, and trying not to walk on dry patches of sidewalk, because that would leave wet footprints--having some sense of being tracked, or trackable, and making up stories about urban trackers--after two days of this, walking home just now, I walked in the snow without care, and watched the ground, looking for my footprints, and even stepped in clean, clear snow deliberately for an impression, so I could see what my tracks looked like. And I was pleased when I did find the tracks I had made earlier that day, pleased to know--that I had made some change in the world? That I was not completely untraceable? Not sure, but something like that.

I've had a couple of wonderful days, starting with seeing the movie Avatar on Wednesday night because choir didn't meet this week, continuing through to a really good New Year's party with the writing group Callihoo, and ... I don't know when it ends. Maybe when I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Avatar is an excellent movie, I really recommend it.
The New Year's party was lots of fun; we played writing games, and wrote some awesome, though insane, stories. (Write two sentences, fold the paper over so only one is showing, pass it. You will be passed a piece of paper folded over so only one sentence shows. Write two more sentences, and fold it over so only one is showing. Pass it. Continue until you reach the bottom of the page.) We had enough people that we ended up reading a story that we did not contribute to at all. That was really cool.
Yesterday, I spent almost the entire day with a boy I have been seeing. I accomplished laundry while he went out to get caffeine and some journal-time, and then we made dinner. I may see him later today.

Life is good; I am happy.

I'm Not Here

And I want a moment to be real
Wanna touch things I don't feel
Wanna hold on, and feel I belong
And how can the world want me to change?
They're the ones that stay the same
They don't know me
'Cause I'm not here.
Goo Goo Dolls, I'm Still Here

This song came into my head yesterday, and I think it explains a bit of how I felt Sunday--utterly unconnected to anyone or anything, especially walking into what felt like the mass of humanity (in reality, somewhere between 20 and 100 people) that was gathered in Elliot Hall after first service. (Unitarian church choir sang on Sunday.)
So, I was singing this song, or the bits that I remembered, that floated to the top of my brain, over and over last night, and I wanted to find it, and see how similar it was to what I remembered. (Pretty much only the chorus is usable for me, in this context.)

Alternate words:
And I want a moment to be real
Wanna touch things I don't feel
Wanna hold on, and feel I'm alive

I also wanted to just say how grateful I am for my very dear friends who help keep me from being too gods-damned crazy.

Anyway, I need to go, so I can do my morning things (eat breakfast, shower, etc.), and then run some errands, like picking up my new tiny GL top hat from the post office, and going to a fabric store for EA-concert-costume-fabric.

Temp jobs etc.

Okay, I'm going to try to update more regularly, especially since I seem to be in a spate of temp jobs, which means I'm sitting in front of the computer all day.
(By the way, Dad: remember that one temp job I got packing small electronic items? You said that I should be using my brain and not my body, and how I was so much more qualified and should be doing something like receptionist, or even better? Well, I was never once bored at that other job, I got to use the OCD part of my brain, and that in itself felt fulfilling in a way I've never had before. These jobs? Phones, receptionist? I am So Bored. Not fulfilled in any way. I would trade.)

Anyway, it's not so bad. Today's the first day at this place, and let me tell you, first-day jitters every time you switch an assignment. Blech. But anyway, I'm not too bored yet. It was just the last day or two at the last place really killed me. And once I get settled in here, and understand the place, it should be less stressful.
It should be a week at this place, so we'll see how it goes.

In other news: complete and total lack of energy is sapping up everything I'm trying to do. And maybe that's all it was with the last temp job: I just had no energy to exert to that job, especially when I had so many other things going on.
So, it's being a struggle to write, get up in the morning, etc. We'll see how it goes. I really need a doctor.
Also, my relationship is going well. We had a weekend in which there was no arguments, no miscommunications, nothing. (This is major.) It was good.
Despite what I just said, things with Jamie are going well. We argue and have miscommunications, but we always work it out.
I can't really think of anything at the moment. It's a shame that my temp-job environments have been, so far, pretty deadening. I can't write. I'm planning on emailing to myself copies of my stories (tried to this morning, but Gmail was being a bitch, and I had to Get To Work), and then I can maybe work on them in small batches, but I really feel brain-dead. Maybe it's the feng shui. Maybe I can do something to help it.
I'm in pain. It's worse right now.

Rejected

Ow.

Today was a day.
First, my roommate tells me I'll have to move out by mid-July--which gives me a good long time to find a new job and a new place to live--I'll need the new job to support the new place to live, because I doubt I'll find another place to live that's as cheap as where I live now--but, still. I understand, he's having financial problems (who isn't?), and wants to rent to someone who will actually pay him money (which I would do if I made enough money to live by, but ... ).
But anyway. It kind of sucked.
So, Universe (and anyone else who reads this), I need a new job. I need to make actual living wages.

Then, I was on the phone with my boyfriend, and we talked about how our relationship isn't working out, and he ... he said lots of things, and I don't know if they're true, or if I'm telling myself they aren't true so as to keep up that shield of self-preservation.
I mean, I know I'm self-centered/arrogant. I know that, and I try really hard to counter that by not talking about myself so much, or by asking questions. The asking questions part is really difficult, because I'm introverted by nature, so I have to work hard to realize, Oh, I should ask this question now!
I do try. But the question is, do I try hard enough? He said I wasn't supportive (I thought I was), that I was judgmental (I didn't think so) and that everything was about me. I know at least some of that is his perspective on things, but how much? How do you know what's true?
I'm a firm believer in multiple truths, but I just don't know about this situation: his truth is that I am completely self-centered, arrogant, unsupportive, that I judge him and think he's stupid because he didn't go to college, that I wasn't open enough, etc. My truth is that I was being as supportive as I could, that I was trying very hard to bury my self-centeredness, that I thought he communicated poorly at times (but never that he was stupid!), and that I refrained from talking about myself too much (not being open enough) to try to counter-act my natural self-interest.
Oh, and he also thought I was a slut. Because I was honest with him (I was being open!) in the beginning about the fact that monogamy doesn't come naturally to me, and that I was trying hard to make monogamy work for me. Here's the funny thing: he's the first boyfriend I *haven't* cheated on, or nearly. But he'd also heard (through the grapevine at work) that I'd spent the night at this guy's house (before he and I were dating), and so he "didn't want to believe" that I was sleeping around.

I don't know. Sorry, I just got off the phone with him, and needed to vent.
But anyway, towards the end, he just kept saying that he needed to not be in a relationship, and so it was more a thing about him than that I was this awful, horrible person.
I don't know.

Anyway, all in all, not the best day.

On a slightly better note, the Frenzy has started, and I've written a little over a page of my script.
woot.

Coping

Kelly's funeral was this morning. It's been hard, and I still start crying whenever I talk about him. I guess I'm coping. I'm going to have a keening with some friends, and I think that is sorely needed.
It was awful seeing his body, because it's not him. He's so clearly not there anymore. His face was completely blank, which is definitely not him.
I found this picture of him on his daughter Marissa's Facebook page (she's the one in the middle, being held by her mom, Wendy), and thought, That's Kelly. He opened his arms to everyone he met, and said, Welcome.

Kelly Almond, A Damn Fine Writer

My friend Kelly Almond got hit by a car on Tuesday, and his family is removing life support today. He was one of the best storytellers I've ever known. He will be greatly missed.

I'm still in shock.

So Fucking Tired

Baby knitting is done for now (I might get some more yarn and make stuff for my other friend's baby, Simon, but Aurora's stuff is done for now). I still have some purple yarn, so I will either make her more things later, or more likely, use it for myself for something ... it's such a pretty color, and I love purple.The knitting project I'm currently working on is a pair of "wristlets", which are like really short armwarmers, but the pattern's adorable, and they're really cute and ruffley. And there's cables, which are fun. I'll post pictures when they're done.

I've gotten as much done with the prologue of my NaNovel as I could, and I submitted it for my writing group's next meeting, so next Thursday, everyone will rip it to shreds. Woot. Hopefully I'll survive. And meanwhile, I can maybe do some more work on the first couple chapters, and get them ready for getting ripped to shreds.

I'm officially dating a boy named Andy; he's pretty spiffy. It's been good so far; except I sometimes worry (because that's what I do) that all the good things I got by not-dating are going away again because I'm in a relationship now, but ... on serious reflection, I don't think that's true, or at least not to the extent that I worry about. So whatever.

I do not have guinea pigs yet. I'm gonna call my mom soon to see when the transfer can happen ... I'll post pictures when I have the cavies (proper name for g.p.s, pronounced kay-vees), so you all can see them.
I think I will name them Panda and Bear. (Panda has to be called Panda, because she has black spots around her eyes, like a panda.) Objections? Is that too ... something?

Belated Updates

I meant to post something at the end of January, but that was a no-go. Apparently.
So, here we go:
I totally fell down on writing everyday, but I have concluded that it was the fault of Smith's no longer carrying the 3-pound bags of pretzels that I usually buy and then munch on while writing. In order to write, I need to snack; I need to snack a lot, which is why I need a three-pound bag of pretzels ... the wimpy little one-pound bags are completely useless.
So, I'm going to try looking harder (in other stores, etc.) for three-pound bags of pretzels, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, so that I can get back to writing.
And hopefully, if I can start writing again everyday, I'll go back to violining everyday ... I practice the violin everyday that I write. I don't know why.
I DID take pictures nearly every day last month, so that was exciting.
I also learned some fancy knitting: I can now do ribbing, stockinette stitching, and cables! (way cool!) After my bout of baby-knitting is done, I am going to tackle Celtic knotwork ... I'll maybe make some armwarmers, or something easy like that, with some Celtic knotwork all over it.

On something other than the projects front, I went on three dates in January: two first dates and one second date: the first-and-second dates were with the boy mentioned in my last post (who, by the way, Britta, is not the same boy that I told you about before ... ).
But, the other first-date: I went on a second date with him recently, and I think it went well. We'll see how it goes. At the very least, I know for a fact that he has not had any recent break-ups, so there's that.

The major thing that has happened so far in February was my Imbolc ritual: it was very major, and I think directly responsible for the fact that I have no brain right now. My friends/teachers told me that whenever they do major workings like that, and lose their brains, it's because the brain has gone to the Underworld (the subconscious) and is rearranging things there, and when it comes back, it will come back different in some way. (I hope I am saying this in a way that makes sense ... )
Actually, though, the fact that I'm posting alone means that my brain is probably starting to come back. So, hopefully in a few days I'll have 100% brain capacity again ...

And finally, I am getting guinea pigs soon. As soon as my mom figures out a good time to affect the transfer. I'm getting a cage, because my mom bought my sister an easier-to-clean cage (because she's ten), so I get the old cage, which is cool. So all I have to do is buy the water bottle and food dishes and the little stuff. And the renewable stuff (bedding, food, etc.) can mostly be found at Smith's, which is useful for me.

But anyway, I have to head out, pick up my paycheck, and go grocery-and-guinea-pig shopping! Yay!
Love you all!

Heartbroken

I'm exaggerating slightly, but ... I went on a date! (I haven't done much of that recently.) I had about a weekend of feeling really excited and happy and all those feelings that accompany a new person in your life, and then he said that he wasn't ready for a girlfriend. (He'd had a recent and bad breakup that was more recent than I'd really been aware.)
But the thing is ... well, there's a few things. I am so ready for a partner: I haven't had any really stable relationships since Nicholas (early 2006), just lovers and brief boyfriends. And I needed that, I really did. I have noticed so much growth because I spent some time not in real relationships (I think the most growth occurred during that awful lonely six months of Chicago before dating Phil briefly--six months of actual loverlessness).
But now? Now I want someone to be there, to be a part of my life. I've been pushing people and things away, out of my life, for three years now, getting rid of bad habits and as much shit as I could. And now I need to embrace, I need to bring things (and people) into my life.
I'm lonely.
But, also, I really like this boy. And obviously I don't know if it would be a stable relationship, but I was willing to try.
Fortunately, it's still really easy to be friends with him. So we'll see how things go.

I was going to write about other things besides a boy, but I'm getting tired. And talking about it (I spent a full day really depressed, after we had that talk, and another day slightly depressed) kind of deflated everything else I was thinking about ...

I love you all!!

Ring Out, Wild Bells

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson

It's a song in my church hymnbook growing up, and it was my favorite song ever. The song doesn't have all the verses his poem does. It's a bit much, altogether, but I still like it. (I'll admit, I mostly like the paganness of the first verse.)
But it's still a truth: you need to let certain things die, you need to give death to things that are holding you back. I think this year I am giving death to my lack of trusting; I know this year is about connections, and healing. I put an ad on Craigslist looking for friends, because I need more, but also because this year I am reaching out, and connecting with people, and looking for healing in embracing others, and not turning away from them. We'll see how that goes. (I admit freely I can be a lousy friend ... but I'm working on it.)
(For those who know/are interested, I drew a single card for the new year (this was for Samhain), and I got the Queen of Cups, reversed.)

My first goal for the New Year is to make my goals slightly more goal-like. They say you're supposed to make goals tangible things, to make them more achievable, and right now I have things like "make a new wardrobe". Blah. What does that mean?
I also have to find a way to do my everyday things (like practicing the violin and writing) on Sundays, which even in November, I only wrote on one Sunday, and then not very much.
I also had, I think, two others that I had been thinking about, and didn't write down, and now I can't remember.
That sucks. Hopefully I'll remember them, though.

Anyway, love you all! Have a lovely New Year's Eve!

Midwinter

Happy Solstice everyone! Yay!

I just wish I'd gotten more sleep last night, and/or that I'd actually DONE something for Solstice.
I've got gaming today, which I will head to shortly, so I can't actually do much today, although I did do my full daily reading of cards (I have three different decks I do stuff with, and on good days, I draw one card from each). Ideally, I'd like to do a full (multi-card) reading with my Tarot deck, but alas. I have not the time. Maybe I can do it tonight, or tomorrow morning.
Anyway. I'll figure something out.

In other news: things are getting increasingly ... interesting, in the relationship arena for me, mostly because I have no clue what the hells I want. (I admit, it doesn't help that most of the people I get involved with don't seem to know what they want, either ... )
I'm still "pining over" someone who's clearly not that into me, and I'm getting tangled up in something that is best described as 'complicated'.
What I want is to not continue making the same choices over again. That's all I want. Gods, why is it so hard?

I'm probably not going to be writing today, because I went to bed around 2:30am, and got up around 8:30 because I absolutely had to, and I have to leave soon to go to game.
However, it counts if I do "writerly stuff", so I'll try to do something along those lines on the bus today ... maybe I'll work out a plot-like thing while sewing the buttonhole stitches on my sister's corset.
I'll have to take pictures of it once I'm done. (Note to self: bring camera and cord to family's house for Christmas ... )

Alright, I gotta go. I love you all!!!
Have a wonderful Midwinter!