finding a place inside

Words go here

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 14:02:01 GMT

It's been ages and years and lifetimes since I posted anything online anywhere but facebook and message boards. It's not that facebook is so much more enticing, in fact, I desperately miss the ability to sit still, and think thoughts, and put them down in writing, but I have so. little. time. and so much to say, and I sit down, and all these thoughts flutter into me like little half-formed butterflies, and I end up saying nothing because I can't sort it all out. I update Facebook with some lame status, and wonder where my time went, as I go play blocks with my kid.

I know I have my priorities in order. I wouldn't change anything. Doesn't mean I don't miss the way it used to be. It's taken some time to get my brain rearranged.

I'm trying to switch jobs (again). There is too much bile taken out on me for things that I can't fix here. Management has had conversations about how they'd hate to see me go. I smile and nod and work my ass off, but will drop this job like a hot potato, if I can find something better. The economic climate is not one that will allow me to just quit, like I'd like to. I'm committed to working full time until Robb is done with school. Frustrating, but again. Priorities. When he's through school, and finds a better job than the one he currently has, maybe I won't have to work full time.

Big realization of the month; while I love my mother very much, I don't respect her at all. I don't think she did a particularly good job of being a mom. I think she could have protected me more, and allowed her to protect me less. It's why I hated the first four seasons of Gilmore Girls; they had the relationship my mom thought we had, and I wanted Rory to break off, leave her mom in the dust, forget all about her. I'm a little bit broken that way.

I'm dealing with that brokenness every day in my marriage. My head is always looking for ways to prove that I am not loved, I do not deserve this, my wonderful daughter, my amazing husband. It's a constant battle with my own brain, to remind myself that I have worked hard, become a better person, that I do deserve to be loved, to be taken care of, to be respected. It's not easy.

I am finally writing the book about adoption. It's hard. I'm writing about a character who is living in the worst moments I've ever experienced. I was there for maybe ten minutes in thirty years. I'm making her live there, and I don't know if it will get better for her. Ever. That's scary, and makes me feel guilty. I hope that Lia can survive everything I'm putting her through and come through the fire, tempered.

I've submitted the vampire novel to several agents. All of them sent denials within 48 hours. The last agency has had the book for 10 days, and hasn't said no yet. I'm starting to get excited, even though there's miles between this and getting an agent, and lightyears between getting an agent and getting published. It's a start. It's me, putting it out there. Trying.

I'm trying to be brave, every day. Trying to live in the light, and shy away from the darkness, instead of the reverse. It's so hard, so impossibly hard. Thinking about living the whole rest of my life like this makes me dizzy; I don't think about it if I can help it. I take one second at a time, one choice at a time, and focus on honesty, on lovingkindness. Sometimes it makes it harder, because so many people seem to think I have this thing dialed in. Sometimes I'm afraid to fail. Sometimes it's easier, because I have an image to live up to. Sometimes I feel suffocated.

Those are your random thoughts for today.

Switcheroo

Sun, 17 May 2009 04:08:23 GMT

So, after a fair amount of thought, I'm going to try posting over on Dreamwidth for a little while. I've had this account since Hanna and I were living in California, and it was created out of a particular place, in a particular mindset, to deal with particular things. After a lot of time, I feel like I've grown past those things, and it's time to raze this last remnant of that time. I may cross-post a few things here, especially since Dreamwidth makes it easy to do so, but if you're over there as well, let me know your name so we can hook up.

It's Violets_and_Lilacs there; as I said, it's time for a change. I'm no longer Ariel, and I'm no longer singing the blues. Time to move on.

I do currently have one more code, if anyone wants it (or still reads this at all). Douglas, I already sent you one.

Sun, 17 May 2009 03:55:32 GMT

I've thought since I was about fifteen that I was addicted to coffee. I joke about it -- I drink coffee so that I don't shoot heroin or something, hahaha. I have an addictive personality, but only to coffee, hahaha.

But here's what I realized this morning, as I was debating the merits of a local coffeeshop versus the merits of Starbucks. I was rolling the facts around in my mind, noting that the coffee at the local place is MUCH. BETTER. but I had best have ten minutes available to wait for the barristas to circumnavigate their attitude just so I can get a toasted bagel, and god help me if I ask for whipped cream on my mocha. But if I get my morning mocha at Starbucks, it tastes assembly line. Because, well, it is. The atmosphere is shiny, the people are shiny, the coffee is shiny.

And I realized, all of a sudden, I don't give a crap about coffee. In fact, I hate coffee. I think it tastes like crap. It tastes like licking the inside of a trash bin. Mochas are a chocolate milk delivery system for grownups. I let them put coffee in the cup so I can pretend I'm really an adult, but really, I'm more thinking about all the times Mom said I had to drink "real" milk with my cereal.

What I'm completely addicted to is the coffeeshop culture. The Starbucks Democrats and the Dunkin Donuts Republicans is not such a bad generalization. Like every generalization, it falls down if you look at it too hard, so it has limited value, but if you want to make a sweeping statement about the lines upon which society breaks down...it kind of works.

I have nothing more interesting to say on this point, but here we are. :)

cranky

Thu, 07 May 2009 16:09:38 GMT

because I got a dreamwidth code to try it out, and fiddled with it, and posted a whole long thing that I crossposted here, and it said it was posted, and apparently it was instead eaten by the interweb.

cranky cranky cranky.

How is it not Friday? really and truly.

I realized what I need.

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 13:01:50 GMT

I need a patron.

I had more, but really, this says it all.

Married.

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 13:32:24 GMT

I keep looking for something eloquent and meaningful and beautiful to say about my wedding, but I don't have any words yet. I felt every moment of it, and for ten hours or so, I lived like a poet, but what they don't tell you is that when you're really living your life, you don't make such good memories of what you're living -- it's kind of an interesting deal, at least for me. Experience it, or remember it later. I don't remember what Reverend O'Brien said to us -- other than he kept saying we were embarking on a great adventure, and that triggered both the silly song from the beginning of the animated Hobbit for me, and also when Lucy takes off running, we always say she's going on a 'venture.

But I remember the look in Robb's eyes when we turned to each other to say our vows. I remember the way his voice cracked -- just a touch -- when he said the words "I take you to be my wedded wife."

And I will never, ever forget the rush of emotion when my Dad said he wanted to share our dance with all my fathers. I never knew he had such graciousness in him. He's a better man than I thought, and I'm so grateful for the gift he gave me.

It was a beautiful day, and I'm so thankful we had so many wonderful friends there to share it with. And a huge, special thanks to the folks who hung out and played poker with us until 1:30 am; it was the perfect end to our wedding day.

Well, not quite the end, of course. We went upstairs, and made wonderful, fantastic love to each other.

I didn't know our relationship could be even closer, even more secure, even more perfect.

I will post pictures when I get them. :)

So grateful.

Tue, 17 Feb 2009 20:29:00 GMT

So happy.

I'm getting married in -- what is it, six weeks now? And for the first time in a very long time, everything -- and I mean everything -- is looking up. I feel energetic, happy, excited, and I'm looking toward the future. I feel unconquerable.

I feel good.

Yay. :)

I just figured out something ridiculously important

Fri, 02 Jan 2009 02:15:01 GMT

and need to record it for posterity, and for when I can't remember it next time.

Writing is a job. It's a part-time job, for right now, and it's not a job I am currently getting paid for, but it's a job. Because if it's a job, it's something I have to do even when I don't want to. It's important, and I don't get to slack off from it. I have to take it seriously, and I have to sit down and write every day. Writing being a job doesn't mean that it's not creative, or not . . . I don't know the word I need here, and it's not important.

This is really, really good.

You may now return to your life. And Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 14:53:40 GMT

However you celebrate, whatever your tradition, have a merry and happy holiday.

Nano

Sun, 09 Nov 2008 02:35:55 GMT

Okay, so since Nano finally reopened the author search page, drop me a comment with your Nano name, if you're participating. I'm LilacKristine over there. (And up to 11524 words so far; it's behind where I wanted to be, but not bad, considering the week I've had. And the baby is now in bed for (I hope) the night, so catching up? Could happen...)

I voted.

Tue, 04 Nov 2008 16:41:10 GMT

I just about had a freaking panic attack when I got to the high school, there was a HUGE line that didn't seem to be moving, but it looked like they just hadn't opened up the doors on time; it was a good day to have a last name that started with L, because the H-L line was about four people long, and I'm glad that Robb and I haven't gotten married yet, because the C-G line was about 50 people long. Seriously, mooshing D in with any other letter where there are as many french-canadians as there are here? Bad planning.

Someone behind me was having a spaz attack because Essex only had about a dozen of the little curtained booths, so the actual voting line was moving slowly; they set up three long tables with pens, didn't say anything about it; clearly, if you didn't mind voting where people could see, you could fill out your ballot there, and if you wanted to wait for a little curtain, you could do that too. No one asked you to go to a table, it was just there. Some guy was all "Is that legal?" and "Can they do that?" Meanwhile, I grabbed a pen at the earliest possible opportunity.

I voted about as those who know me would expect, except that, as I discussed with Adam last week, I went prog for gov; I just couldn't make myself vote for That Woman. Not in the same year that I was voting for as eloquent a speaker as That One.

I wanted to bring Lucy with me, like a lot of people who brought their kids, to be able to tell her that she was a part of what I hope starts for the whole world today, but she'll have to be satisfied with being at the party tonight. PS, Silver-folk? neither Robb not I got the email that was sent. We are sad and lonely. :) We'll be there anyway, but if there were any details we needed to know about, please resend. Thanks!

Take two

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 16:28:10 GMT

I know why I'm in this miserable place, but I don't know how to fix it. Rather, I know how (technically) to fix it, but not how to (actually) fix it.

I am drinking too much coffee, sleeping too little, trying to get too much done, driving myself to guilty distraction about what I'm NOT getting done, even feeling guilty about what I AM getting done because it is Not Enough. I am letting the lack of daylight eat me up, and it's only October. How do you get outside and get more sunlight when there is no time that is light and you're not at work?

So excuse me, please, if I'm being more anti-social than usual. I'm trying, I really am, but this brain-soup is getting the best of me just now.

Surprise -- Guess who's cranky!

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 17:39:30 GMT

I need a cranky icon.

I have emo icons and happy icons and bouncy icons and sexy icons, but no cranky icons. I'm cranky too often to not have a cranky icon.

I was going to complain more, but I'm too tired and cranky. So that is, apparently, all.

I get it now.

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 13:26:54 GMT

It always used to piss me off when women would speak about their families in the royal we. "we're" teething, "we're" pregnant, "we're having a rough day." It seemed like what they meant was "the baby is teething", "I'm pregnant," and "I'm going to make your life hell because I'm cranky."

I get it now.

The last two days, Lucy has screamed approximately 50% of the time she's been awake. I'm not talking her usual warbling "Hey, you, come get me." I'm talking full-throated howls. The cause? Two top teeth that are so swollen that I wish I could just take a scalpel to them to help her out.

It's not just Lucy who's teething. It's all of us. She's not sleeping; I don't sleep. She's not relaxing; Robb doesn't relax. And it's bizarre; she's playing, she's happy, then suddenly she's throwing a back arching, sweaty, scream down the house fit. And then, in a heartbeat, it's okay again.

To quote J's A -- "wha tha he-yll?"

So, bioDad, we clearly may not make church on Sunday if there isn't a reasonable chance of her holding herself together for the time being. Or we may go and just hang down in the nursery...that's a distinct possibility now that I'm thinking about it. We'll keep you posted.

I want teething to be done now, kthxbai. She has to get twenty of these things, right? Or something like that? Ugh.

Srsly.

And Starbucks, thx for coffee, but it was too early for me to deal with a rabid Tampa Bay fan. Handle that for me next time, wouldja? Thx.

Baby thoughts

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 14:39:41 GMT

Random collection of interesting thoughts.

This post-baby-body thing is treating me well. I try to avoid thinking of my weight in numbers (although, much to my dismay, the fact that I had to pay attention to my weight at the end of my pregnancy means that I'm having to completely recondition myself to ignore the scale numbers and pay attention to other indicators), and more in terms of size. I have been slowly and consistently putting on weight since I graduated college -- really, since I came back from London. I think J will agree that the first ten pounds after I got back were pretty fucking necessary -- seriously, I ran out of money a month before I got back, it wasn't very pretty -- but since then, I didn't really feel I *needed* to put on weight like I did my senior year. At that time, I wore an 8 or a 6, depending on the manufacturer of the jeans in question. Since then, there has been a steady increase, until the 12s that I needed when I got pregnant. That was upsetting to me, but I was trying to handle it, working out and trying to watch what I ate, but I was just maintaining, not losing anything.

And then, today, I put on the slim-fit size 10 Ann Taylor cords that I was wearing the night Robb sang Folsom Prison Blues and we danced to Jana singing "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" and I almost kissed him (typed *almost missed him* the first time). They fit comfortably, possibly more comfortably than they did that night. Weird. I guess the weight is still there, but redistributed? Upward, clearly. Sigh.

Also, these C cups are not all they're cracked up to be. Can I have my little boobs back, kthx.

I'm entertained by how my priorities have been rearranged, completely without my acknowledgment or acceptance. There is a serious possibility of me being in moderately serious trouble at work because of the time I was out last week with Lucy. I really don't care. People all around me are trying to get me all fired up about how unjust work is being, but they're not. They're in line with the policy that I signed off on, and Vermont is an at-will state, anyway -- they could fire me for just about anything, as long as it's not a discriminatory reason. This wouldn't be (and I don't think they will anyway). But even if they do... my brain is all "whatevs." There's nothing I could have done differently, so why stress? I'll handle it as it comes.

I need to clean more. I spent most of yesterday afternoon cleaning, and our bedroom and Lucy's room are finally 90% free of clean clothes scattered all over the floor. I also found the source of The Smell (ew) and it has been disposed of. I need a new bathrobe. (ew). I also need to figure out some way to get Lucy into a back-carry wrap; the wrap I have just doesn't work for that. I'm not sure if the sling will, and if that doesn't, I'll see if I can get a just-plain-piece of fabric to work, all African style, because I'd really prefer not to spring for yet another carrier. Unless I can get Robb to try on the Ergo, and he feels he'd be able to carry Lu in that...then it would be worthwhile, because I don't think he'd use the Moby or the Maya.

And finally random comment for the day. I was such a freaking hippie last night, I had to laugh at myself. I was cooking dinner, Lucy was cranky and wanting to be held, and nursed, but dinner was not at the boil-and-leave it stage...finally, I popped her into the ring sling, pulled out a boob, and she went to town while I kept cooking dinner.

I'm such a fricking hippie. :)

It is no longer possible to ignore

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 23:39:07 GMT

the connection between my allergies and refined sugar.

This sucks.

But is still better than admitting that I should eat less milk and cheese.

Just saying.

Sigh. I'm such a goon.

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:31:02 GMT

For a rather ridiculous amount of time, I've tried to decide. Should I write the book about the sisters, or the book about the vampire hunters?

And suddenly, it occurred to me. The vampire hunters are sisters. Like, duh.

Sometimes I worry me.

I'm being purposely silly to get over a very small slight this afternoon that has me flustered and frustrated. You telling me silly things will help this.

Also, if you aren't Ellen or Douglas, you didn't tell me your address, which will make it difficult for me to invite you to the wedding. I mean, I can probably guess your addr with the help of whitepages.com, but please make my life easier. Thanks! :)

I drank too much caffeine today

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 19:54:38 GMT

I can tell because it feels like my skin is kind of trembly. Like I've been working out all day, without the convenient exhaustion or the helpful weight loss.

It's kind of annoying, actually.

It has been a good week on the personal front. I'm kind of accepting that the feminists are full of shit and the "you can have it all" lie is a front put out by some woman-hating asswipe who enjoys watching girls in their 20-somethings get depressed, but I'm making peace with the idea that I can have it all...just not all at once. Reorganizing priorities, letting go of the silliness that matters to other peoples' perception of me, and less to me-myself, and concentrating on what's important. Lucy. Robb. Me. The world in my head.

The things that matter.

Not sure where the story that I'm working is going, if anywhere. It might be that this is just a trial piece, a way to get back into that mindset, that brain. That place where I sit on the couch for an hour a day (minimum) and write. Put my fingers on the keyboard and press the buttons in a logical order until I'm painting a word-picture of where I am.

I'll get there, eventually. One of these days, I'll be able to quit my job, work less, do this more. In the meantime, I have to keep in practice, bank the fire, do as much as I can. I'll get there, I will succeed.

Meantime, the effort is worth quite a lot.

The other reason this week has been beyond belief is that Luke sent me a message the other day, and we straightened out a difficulty that has plagued our relationship since...well, since that very first summer, and everything that happened right after. We've been chatting all week, and it's been fantastic. Ludicrously wonderful. Beautiful. Like having my brother back.

A good, good, GREAT week.

P.S.

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 15:57:54 GMT

Check it out.

http://ellen.warnerbros.com/2008/10/breaking_news.php

Also:

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 13:18:49 GMT

You should read this.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/01/business/economy/01leonhardt.html?th&emc=th#

And I'm starting to feel like I should start a twitter feed, with all this short nonsense posting. Sigh.

Dear God

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 12:29:17 GMT

I need a day where I feel useful and relevant today. Any help you can give with that would be much appreciated. If it happens in the field of my job, bonus points.

Kthxbai.

This is more times that I've posted in 24 hours since, like, ever

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 04:36:00 GMT

but the funny hurts me.

there's this song

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 23:23:15 GMT

from Les Mis. Valjean sings it. The opening goes:

He thinks that man is me,
Knew him at a glance.
That stranger he has found,
This man could be my chance.
Why should I save his hide?
Why should I right this wrong?
When I have come so far?
And struggled for so long?
If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silence, I am damned.

The situation doesn't really apply, because there isn't anyone about to spend their life in prison because they happen to look like me, but I still find myself wondering...where has my newfound -- refound? -- creativity come from? Has it come at a price? A price that someone else is paying, somewhere?

Is it terrible that, even if it has, I don't really give a shit?

Something is coming together for me, finally, and I'm fascinated to see what comes of all the irons that I'm suddenly finding in the fire. I think things might be -- FINALLY -- looking up.

And if the cost is a couple of silver candlesticks -- so be it.

(pardon the drama. I'm actually in a fucking fantastic mood.)

I am cranky today.

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 13:59:41 GMT

I woke up with this blissful love all humankind. I woke up to find that either I'd been sleep-nursing Lucy again, or else she'd crawled out of her crib and laid her head on my shoulder, but either way, hella adorable. I left the house with and Robb splayed in parallel fashion in bed, looking so much like each other that it made my heart ache. I wrote for twenty minutes before I left the house, and found the story that I've been gently working on is getting to that fantastic point where it starts to respond to my prodding and grow its own wings. Stories for me often start from a line or a vision or a thought -- one single moment. What's happening here? Example: I wrote an entire screenplay because I said to Melissa "I bet she thinks he'll bring her roses." I wrote a novel because of the image of two sisters, eight years between them, meeting for the first time, and the older one saying "What can you tell me about Mom," and the younger saying "Nothing," because their mother had died before the younger had a chance to know her, and the older had been given away.

This story that I'm working on now? She's a perfect girl. She takes care of her mother, she takes care of her father. She has perfect, shallow friends, and the perfect boy thinks she just might be perfect (or at least good for a quick fuck, but she's willing to go along with it, if it keeps her perfect). And I'm about to make her world fall apart. And she willing to go along with it. I think she's about to take off on a road trip. I can't wait to see where she goes.

And then the rest of this fucking morning happened. People are being rude, and stupid, and unreasonable, and I want to curl up in a hole, or go to sleep, or just make the ridiculousness stop. Dammit.

Hey, Day? Pick up the fucking slack, wouldjakthx?

Devious Journal Entry

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 13:29:54 GMT

click to embiggen:

Showdown: HP vs. Twilight by =EmpressFunk on deviant ART

omg omg laughing