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WED 10.29.03 @ 11:10pm
So the novel preparation is really coming along. It seems every time I finally make myself sit down to do something, it's easier than I could have even hoped. (This is often true of my writing in general, so hopefully November will swim by!)
Early last week I decided to write up some Character Profiles, something I have never really done before, and yet seemed pretty standard according to posts in the Nanowrimo Forums. I really liked this one. Scroll down beyond the couple of paragraphs of text (which I didn't bother reading, sorry!), and there is a long "Character Profile Worksheet".
I did one for each of my main characters, and while my mind was wandering trying to come up with stuff, I created 5 minor characters out of nowhere. I created relationships between these eight characters that I wasn't expecting, and the whole thing really "fleshed out" my story.
I've been "resting on my laurels" for about a week now, and finally decided it was time to "hunker down" and work out a plot outline. While I did make "bare minimum" (name, age, hair & eye color. done.) character profiles for one story a long time ago, I have definitely never worked from a plot outline before. Everything has always just come while I write, leading me to new plot points. Exciting, but is it really any wonder that I have such a poor "track record" with completing stories?
So tonight I sat down with some blank paper, a half-sheet that I had written in 2000 because I was wondering about the appeal of "cowboy" romances, and my copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Getting Your Romance Published.
I wasn't very convinced this book could help me with much when I bought it, except maybe help when I finally had something to try and publish, but inside was a section on formulas for romances. And I realized it would be pretty easy to turn that cowboy romance into a formula romance. No, "it's not world peace". No, "it's not going to win a Pulitzer". But can I finish it? I think so, I really do.
I focused on the part where she plot-outlines Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, where you're given this formula:
1. Setting the scene
2. The meeting
3. & 4. Development
5. Conflict arises
6. & 7. Periods of happiness
8. Conflict explodes
9. Period of misery
10. Resolution
Once I read that, I just *knew* I could write a romance, and finish it.
And I finished plotting in under 45 minutes. I can't quite believe it. I didn't exactly follow the formula, but oh well. It looks like it's going to work! Yee-haw!
Now "how do I face myself in the mirror knowing" I'm writing a cowboy romance?
I still need to "get into character", make sure I remember my main characters really well, and can "feel" them and their motivations easily.
But before that, I would like to spend some more time fleshing out those minor characters. And rename one of them. Names have to sound just right in my head, so I spend "way too much" time picking each one. "By the time" I got to this character, no last name was clicking with his first, so I just grabbed one at random and wrote it down. And I hate it. It feels like there's a thorn in my psyche, and if I turn to look, I can see the letters of that name GLOWING AT ME, begging to be changed to something else.
How anal retentive can I be? Please, just don't ask. Instead, look at all the things I quotes in this entry. They're clichés. NOB, do I suck at writing. "Me fail English? That's unpossible!"
~ * ~
We had a great time in Long Beach this last weekend with Heather and Jim.
They're engaged! Yay!!!!! At the end of the weekend when we were saying out goodbyes, I pointed it out again to say YAY!!! all over again. Heather said, "It's about time", looked at Jim and then burst out laughing. I can't believe I hadn't thought of what a big deal this was until then: he had been asking her since he moved to Oregon (before he moved?) if she would marry him. I think it may have even been a joke for awhile. But now I feel like I was a dolt. I mean, what changed her mind? Shouldn't I have asked her that? Bah, I'm a horrible friend!
The coast was just magnificent. After heavy rains and state-wide flooding the week before, we were amazed to wake up Friday morning to see the sun. And it just got better and better as the weekend progressed. I was wishing for shorts by Saturday afternoon. Sunday was almost hot.
We only went to the beach ones. Not many shells on this beach. A bunch of jellyfish though. Every couple hundred feet there'd be another one, and I'd want to "save" it. Poor jellies. Weirder, there were no less than 5 dead seagulls, just along the short strip (1/2 mile?) Eric and I walked.
The neighbors were all bastards. There was a big party group two doors down, that insisted on partying all hours on the deck, so we could hear everything. There were the kids up at 7 am trying to scare seagulls by screaming at them. There were the people directly above us that paced the entire weekend, with the except of 6am to 10am Sunday morning: their floorboards/our ceiling squeaked mercilessly with every pass. Oh, and Heather's mom called our room at about 8 in the morning Sunday.
So sleep was in short supply. Oh well, it was worth it for the nice weekend.
We watched scary movies at night. Rented 28 Days Later because they hadn't seen it and Eric wanted to see the alternate ending. Everybody really liked it.
I'm not exactly sure now how The Caveman's Valentine got thrown in there, but we watched that Saturday over dinner (yummie soft tacos, courtesy of Jim & Heather in the kitchen for way too long). Weird movie with Samuel L. Jackson as a paranoid schizophrenic.
Then we watched the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Now, I've read tons about this since the new remake has come out. All about how brilliant it was/is. All about how it came to be. Learned it's *not* a true story. Nope, the creater was in a hardware store jam packed with people and upon wondering how to get to the exit most easily, he happened to spy chain saws on the wall. Leatherface was inspired by a serial killer from Wisconsin (if I remember my states correctly), who was caught in the 50's. He killed lots of people in various places, but there was never any mention of a chain saw. Plus, the guy who played Leatherface was given the ok to develop his character on his own. Oh, and the movie doesn't actually say it's a true story anywhere.
So, um, why wasn't it scary? Um, at all? I'm pretty sure I didn't even jump when anything jumped out. And there wasn't anything to flinch at. Except maybe the wailing of the main woman in the last scenes of the film as she's running everywhere but to safety.
I'm not saying it wasn't well made. Or that I couldn't see some impressive cinematography (someone online mentioned the beauty of the last shot of the film, and they were right, eerily so). I'll definitely grant you that this would have been shocking when it was released in the early 70's. Death, dismemberment, cow slaughtering discussions, self-mutilation, cannibalism, familial madness. Yep, it's a fucked up story. But I wasn't scared once.
Heather did not want us to go out afterwards to watch the stars, around midnight. I assured her we would be fine, that I wasn't spooked. And we were fine, and I wasn't spooked. Until we got to the crest where, if we'd ventured farther, we would have been out of sight of the lodge. And then my normal paranoia of getting jumped in the dark by a rapist awoke. So frustrating, to be standing next to your husband, calmly discussing things, gazing at the stars, and not daring to go 10 more feet because some rapist is just waiting for me in the shadows.
*sigh*
MON 10.20.03 @ 10:24pm
Today I: was beaten up by last night's meal; slept on and off until after 3pm; watched the rain; decided which idea to turn into a novel for Nanowrimo; named my main characters; researched Illinois and Wisconsin as settings; learned about tornadoes; spent way too much time in the Character and Plot Realism Q&A Forum at Nanowrimo; watched the movie "Enough" with Jennifer Lopez (it was alot better than I thought it was going to be).
Right now I: am wondering how on earth I'm going to get to sleep at a reasonable hour.
I am behind where I wanted to be in planning the novel, but lots of things have been swimming in my head to flesh out the story. I'm hoping to have character development completed sometime by Friday, so I can enjoy myself this upcoming weekend with Heather and Jim and my Sweetie. And possibly sneak in some contemplation time for the novel (this is what long car rides are for).
Next week, plot outline.
FRI 10.17.03 @ 11:56pm
It's Friday, I can do something light, right? I stole this from J2
1) If you went crazy and decided to go on a mass killing spree, what song would you be listening to as you were pumping lead/tearing apart/stabbing your victims?
Ministry's live version of Stigmata (from In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up): "FUCK YOU! FUCK ME! FUCK JESUS! FUCK THE CHURCH! FUCK MARY! FUCK GEORGE BUSH! FUCK TIPPER GORE!"
2) Do you have a song that you can listen to that puts you in a better mood than you were in prior to listening to the song?
"Alright" on SuperDeluxe's 2nd album, Via Satellite. It reminds me of The Beatles for some reason. Which is odd, because I don't particularly like the Beatles.
3) What song is your "guilty pleasure?"
Ricky Martin's self titled Ricky Martin, the whole album.
4) Is there a song/songs that made you cry? What was it/were they?
Extremely beautiful voices have a tendency to make me cry: "Bridge Over Troubled Water" comes to mind.
5) Name an artist you like that would surprise people who think they know you.
Ashanti. Beyonce. Louis Armstrong. Patsy Cline.
6) Is there a song you could never get sick of?
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What A Wonderful World" by Iz
7) Is there a song or band that you won't listen to because of the emotional turmoil that you're reminded of that surrounded you when you did listen to that song or band?
I almost ruined one of my favorite albums, Blue Wonder Power Milk by Hooverphonic, because I listened to it over and over while writing my short story "Awakened Dream". Which I notice I have yet to put on the fiction page. Freudian slip?
8) Describe one memory you have (off the top of your head) that surrounds a particular song, which will immediately pop into your head when you hear it, and name the song too.
When I was 11 or 12, I kept repeating Prince's Purple Rain soundtrack over and over while I read The Neverending Story. Lesser-played songs on the album bring back vivid flashes of the story in my mind, especially the first notes of "Darling Nikki".
9) Name one CD you regret buying. Or owning.
Santana's Supernatural. One song was *not* enough to convert me.
10) Last but not least - Slap down lyrics from ONE song that would best describe you and/or your feelings in general (don't take a lot of time to think about it, it can just be how you're feeling right now). Note who it's by, what song, and album.
Institutionalized by Suicidal Tendencies, from their debut Suicidal Tendencies
Sometimes I try to do things, and it just don't turn out the way I wanted to and I get real frustrated, it's like, I take my time and I try real hard, but no matter what I do and no matter what I try it never works out, it's like I concentrate on it real hard, but it never works out, it's like I need some time to figure these things out, but there's always someone there going:
- Hey Mike, you know, we been noticing you've been having alot of problems lately, you know, and like maybe you should talk about it, you'd feel alot better.
And I go:
- No, it's ok, I know I have some problems, I'll figure it out myself, just leave me alone I'll figure it out.
And they go:
- Why don't you talk about it, you'll feel alot better?
And I go:
- No, I don't want to, just leave me alone, I'll figure it out myself! And they keep on bugging me and it builds up inside, it builds up inside...
So you're gonna be institutionalized
You'll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes
You won't have any say
They'll brainwash you until you see their way
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was sitting in my room, and I was like staring at the walls thinking about everything but then again I was thinking about nothing, and then my mom came in and I didn't notice she was there and she calls my name and I didn't hear her and then she started screaming:
- Mike, Mike!
And I go:
- What, what's the matter?
She goes:
- What's the matter with you?
I say:
- Nothing mom.
She goes:
- Don't tell me nothing, you're on drugs!
I go:
- No mom, I'm not on drugs, I'm ok, I'm just thinking, you know, why don't you get me a Pepsi?
She goes:
- No, you're on drugs, you're crazy, normal people won't be acting that way!
I go:
- Mom, I'm all right, I'm just thinking, you know, so why don't you, like give me a Pepsi?
And she goes:
- No, you're crazy!
All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give it to me, just one Pepsi...
They give you a white shirt with long sleeves
Tied around you're back, you're treated like thieves
Drug you up because they're lazy
It's too much work to help a crazy
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in and they pulled up a chair and they sat down, they go:
- Mike, we need to talk to you.
And I said:
- Okay, what's the matter?
They go:
- Well me and your mom, we been noticing lately you've been having alot of problems, and you haven't been acting like yourself, and we're afraid that you're going to hurt somebody, and we're afraid that you're gonna hurt yourself, so we decided that it would be in your best interest if we put you somewhere where you could get the help that you need...
And I said:
- Wait, what are we talking about?! We decided?! My best interest?! How can you know, how can you say what my best interest is? What are you trying to say? I'm crazy? When I went to your schools, I went to your churches, I went to your institutional learning facilities. So how can you say that I'm crazy?
They say they're gonna fix my brain
Alleviate my suffering and my pain
But by the time they fix my head
Mentally I'll be dead
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
It doesn't matter their insurance money¹s about to run out anyhow.
THU 10.16.03 @ 9:02pm
Each day, there are highs and lows. I'm trying to focus my spare energies on gearing up for November, so the highs and lows effect that. I feel nervous; then I feel ok about that, as everyone's in the same boat; then I feel there's too much going on to try this, that I'm going to fall flat on my face.
Right now, I'm feeling better about it. I had a jarring image in my head today, and I gave myself the luxury of spinning it out in my head, rather than push it aside to work. I just now put a bit of it on a post-it and put it on my "idea wall".
At which point I looked at this old idea I had that I thought was a worthless cliché, and a word caught my eye. I re-read the entire thing, a few paragraphs of back story and very vague plot line. It's alot more than I thought it was. I can't remember writing some of that.
So two fresh ideas to think about. Plus the one that I'm really leaning towards, but seems too autobiographical to pursue. I've read a number of posts in the NaNoWriMo forums from people who tried stuff that was too autobiographical their first time around, and they failed utterly. So that scares me.
But all of my writing is largely autobiographical. I realized a few years ago that all my characters, every last one of them, are me. It's why it's so hard to have characters fight and have conflicts. So I tried really hard to change my characters in my "novel" to be more not-me. That was interesting.
But now I'm much more confident in my ability to create characters.
But I'm currently worried that, while my old belief that I never get ideas isn't exactly true, all my ideas seem to just be a flash of a scene. Just one scene. How do you build a novel around one scene? This is the problem with the post-it I just put on my wall. It may be interesting to try and create a plot around it, but I don't know if I have enough time to do that before November.
I really need to make a decision SOON, so I can work on plot and developing character backstories.
On the very, very plus side, I'm not as intimidated by the 50,000 goal. MS Word has a nifty word-count feature. My novel is currently at 184 pages and 70,114 words. True, the core of that was written over about 6 months and I've been fiddling and/or adding to it ever since.
But look at this: I am average 380 words per page. To hit 50,000 words, that would equal 131.5 pages. 131.50/30 days = 4.4 pages per day.
How hard can it be to write four and a half pages a day?
Where is that laughing coming from?
THU 10.16.03 @ 9:49am
Fuck, forgot to post this last night. Written yesterday afternoon from work:
It's raining pretty good, and I'm really, really, really wishing I'd stayed home to watch it. It makes it that much harder to stay feeling like I'm going to fall asleep if I don't get up and run laps around the office. Woke up with horrible sinus pain and soooo unbelievably tired. This is what happens when I stay up past 11:30pm 2 nights in a row on work nights.
So I did it. I finally went over to NaNoWriMo and signed up. And immediately freaked out. Not once since I decided to do this back in August/September, have I felt *afraid*. I've felt indecisive, confused, had a lack of focus. But yesterday I was a bit intimidated and worried that I had no clue what the hell I was doing.
I think because part of me is questioning whether I'm really a writer. I gave myself that title when I was 12, and have worn in proudly in my own head ever since.
But my lack of committment, my lack of ideas, my lack of true plots, really make me wonder. Maybe I'm just obsessed with words, the way I'm obsessed with art and music. But I'm certainly not an artist or musician. So what if I personally think my writing style is faboo? Maybe I'm not really a writer?
This was probably not what I should have been thinking about 24 hours before signing up, but there it was, slapping me in the face, when I saw that some people there actually have working TITLES for their pieces. Hell, I don't even know what I'm going to write about yet.
I feel better about it today. I spent last night doing some reading, found a chapter in a book on plotting that may be helpful. I never wanted to write a formulaic book, but maybe that would be easier, just this first time out of the gates? Anyway, the possibility set my mind at ease a bit.
I'm kind of worried about finding enough time to do this, so I really need to have a conversation with Eric about how important this is to me. I realized yesterday that I haven't even told him yet. I always think that once I post something on the net, everyone I love will instantly be informed. Then I realize that none of them actually read this, and it feels kind of like repeating myself.
Writing in your blog should feel like repeating yourself, not telling your friends and loved ones important things. I spend way too much time on the net, even if I am falling way behind updating this blog. I can't believe there is a NaNoWriMo bloggers group. How on earth are they going to find the time to blog while they're writing a novel???
Wish me luck everyone. Now that I want to start writing again, I need to pour that into preparing for November, instead of updating here. Sorry.
Can I say Holy Shit?!?
What's Your Outlook on Life?
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MON 10.13.03 @ 11:20pm
Saw 2 movies this weekend on DVD, one of which I wrote a review of: a gorgeous (but short) anime called Voices of A Distant Star.
I also saw Down With Love. I knew I was going to like it, because I have the HUGEST crush on Ewan McGregor. He just keeps making movies where he sings, and it gets me every time. I need to rewatch some of his older films to see if he sings in them too. I just assumed at the time that he was lip syncing someone else's voice in A Life Less Ordinary, but now I'm thinking it had to be him.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that it was smarter than I thought it was going to be. Not *quite* as cutesy as I thought it was going to be. Don't get me wrong, it's a fluffy romance. But with all that pink and the fact that it's in some romantic's daydream of 1960's New York, I was surprised that it was... kind of smart. Kind of a spoof. With a twist at the end that I didn't know to expect. So if any Ewan fan is on the fence about this one, go see it, because his million dollar smile is abundant and his accent is all over the place in this one, so you'll be sure to swoon. And if you're a Renée Zellweger fan on the fence, what are you waiting for? She's cute as a button as usual, and she steals the show with that smart twist at the end.
And I almost forgot, but I finally caught Equilibrium on DVD as well. I really liked it. It's Fahrenheit 451 meets The Matrix, which is very cool. Excellent set and costume designs. Very subtle acting, especially Christian Bale. Off the top of my head, this is the best performance I can think of from him.* I'm really surprised this didn't do better. I think it was released in direct competition with The Matrix Reloaded though, so that might explain it. I remember thinking at the time that it was advertised poorly, and opened at a crappy time against major players. Anyway, this entry is running long, so I'll just say my favorite part of the film is just watching Christian experiencing emotions for the first time. The way he touches things and these subtle changes of facial expression appear on his face. Wow. Excellent acting, excellent cinematography. And there was much Kung-Fu to rival The Matrix, right down to a direct threat to the impressive "Lobby Scene". Which was kind of... in a lobby as well, now that I think of it.
*Edit: think Swing Kids, Velvet Goldmine, and Empire of the Sun. This guy is all about powerful facial expressions. C.B. is gonna kick ASS as the next Batman.
MON 10.13.03 @ 6:38pm
The weather here has been really lovely. Rainy, dark, blustery. A real Fall. Very refreshing. People are already speculating that it will be a cold winter. Who are these people? Do some people just feel it in their bones or something?
So how is Mysie doing? She is not doing excellent. She's not doing bad. Well, not that bad. Depression is here again, proof that there is no cure. I'm trying not to run to Rosa at the first sign of trouble, but it's been about 2 weeks now, and I don't seem to be getting better (or worse), so I'm not sure.
So, lately I haven't been interested in much but television. Luckily, the new TV season just started. But I'm anti-social. I'm eating more. I don't really care to go out. It's harder to go to work in the mornings. Harder to care about my diet in the evenings. I haven't had any motivation to write, or even read a book, in weeks. And, the real joy: chaotic, paranoid emotions. Yay!
I need to find something to throw my energy into. I read a book in 24 hours this weekend (blazing speed for me, despite the larger typeface), which is a good start. Reading one book makes me want to read more, makes me want to write.
I think if I can find something to throw myself into that I won't feel is a complete waste of my time (ie: Neopets and The Sims), that I will get stimulated about other things as well.
I had so much more energy a month ago. Well, not energy. I've been pretty low energy for awhile now. But my mind was charged, excited. I'm not sure how something like that could have evaporated so fast.
I'm pretty sure it's the damned house. We just found out we need to replace an entire wall of our house. An exterior/interior wall that will cost us THOUSANDS of dollars that we don't really have. I've been trying to stay positive about it, and for the most part I have been, but my emotions elsewhere have really suffered. I can only figure that it's stressing me more than I know.
It really sucks that one thing goes wrong and I can get so low. I only keep reassuring myself that at least this isn't as bad as college.
I'm alive and in love, and everything else is just gravy. So I know I'll be alright, as long as I can say that and mean it. Eric doesn't quite understand it, but I also think he doesn't get as low as I do. Hence, he's never been in therapy, and I don't believe he's ever needed it. Hopefully I don't need it just yet either. Here's to finding some biscuits for that gravy.
~ * ~
Odd thought of the moment: do you think people who have sex changes worry about changing their handwriting after the change? I just got a fax from someone with horrible handwriting, but if the person who I talked to on the phone was really the person who filled it out, then it was a woman. I have never looked at handwriting and said to myself, "This has got to be a man's handwriting" and been wrong. A woman's handwriting can be sloppy, but a man's is never pretty.
~ * ~
So here's what's bothering me the most at the moment: I love Fall, and I can't really get into it this year. And not because I don't want to, because I do. But because I'm afraid to spend any money, since we're facing an impending financial crisis (we have not had the house long enough to develop enough equity to get a home equity loan for the repair). This pisses me off. We finally have a house of our own, where we'll finally get at least a few Trick-or-Treaters (NOB make it so), and I can't allow myself to spend the money to decorate or get a costume.
As I was talking to myself, my inner-monologue, trying to accept this into my head, it hit me: what about Christmas? And I really freaked out. I was terribly depressed last year that we didn't have a tree. That was the main reason I was so anxious to buy a house at the end of last year, and why I was so elated when we got our Christmas presents of checks from Eric's grandmother. We could finally buy a house where there would ALWAYS be room for a tree!
And that very morning, I went online to look at houses, and I found this lovely little two-story and I could not stop looking at it. I was infatuated. Because I could imagine perfectly what it would look like in Christmas lights and some snow on the ground. I was in love. And after all the pain of the house hunting, the disappointment of losing the first house we bid on, we actually bought that house. The very first house I fell in love with on the day we knew we could start looking. The one that will look great decorated for Christmas.
I don't know what I'll do if we don't have a real Christmas this year. I had wanted to invite everyone over. Imagine, both of our families in one house, so for once we didn't have to go to 2 houses in one day. For the first time in over 10 years!
I think I will be ok not doing that this year, and planning on it next year, as long as we can somehow afford to get everyone on our list a little something, send out Christmas cards, and get at least some lights on the house. And a tree. Definitely a tree. Our front room is so bare, there will always be room for one!!!
I think if I look at the sales, and get the cheapest lights possible, I can make this work. Eric has already agreed that Christmas is too important not to spend enough to get everyone at least a *little* something and a tree. All I have to do is get really cheap lights! Now only if it will snow...
SAT 10.04.03 @ 5:28am
I swear I'm going straight to bed, after I write this quick entry about Xanadu.
It was on cable today (twice), and this is the first time I've watched it since... probably since it hit cable sometime after it was released in 1980. I hardly remembered a thing. I don't remember being that fond of this film, despite an obsession with Olivia Newton-John. Fuck if I didn't remember most of the words to all the songs though. I can honestly say I still adore the sound track.
The oddest part was the animation sequence by Don Bluth. I *really* don't remember that being in there. But it was so obviously Bluth's work, I felt silly looking it up to confirm that. Unlike Disney movies, all of Bluth's works have the same look, which I find endearing. Probably because he is the main illustrator in all of them.
Anyway, back to Xanadu: it was still a wretched movie. But I couldn't stop watching it. I can't believe Gene Kelly was in it! I'm quite sure back when I saw it the first time I had no idea who the fuck Gene Kelly was.
It's weird looking back on your childhood and seeing things about yourself you didn't remember yesterday. I had completely forgotten about this movie and my obsession with OJN.
FYI, the review at IMDB by "Brandon L. Sites" is spot on.
SAT 10.04.03 @ 5:04am
It is almost 4:30am. Please bare with me if my thoughts are a little incoherent, or if I tend to ramble.
Why am I awake? Cramps. I always feel like no one will take me seriously if I'm honest about that. But I seriously wanted to die yesterday when the onset was so quick, and so horrifyingly painful as I waited for the drugs to kick in, that I wasn't sure I was going to complete my drive to work in safety. I reached work and ran in to do unspeakable things in the bathroom.
This is where my fear of all pain comes from. My tolerance of varying degree for all painkillers wrecks my life every 4 weeks.
I remember one day in the 4th grade, a few periods into The Curse, sitting on the stoop of my class before the day started. Praying to God to relieve me from this duty Eve had bestowed on me.
How old is one in the 4th grade? 10 years old? That is some fucked up shit to make a 10 year old go through.
But I didn't sit down to write an entry about this particular hell. Regardless of how horrendous(?sp) it is at the moment, this too shall pass, and I shall once again be able to sleep.
Nope, after visiting my favorite blog for the first time in fuck knows when (haven't been to read any blogs at all in weeks), I was inspired to write something. Anything.
I am fearful of my state of mind over the past week. It feels like depression without the... depression. Lack of interest in pretty much everything but sleep and television and a quick snuggle with my husband on occassion. But I'm not sad. Or even angry. Stressed, yes. But amazingly unmotivated to do anything. And not enough energy to even care, much less do anything about it.
This realization is kinda new, so I have no "statement of resolution" to wrap up that last paragraph. I'm just gonna let it float out there, to worry the friends and/or relatives who may or may not read this anytime soon.
I should not be writing in this zombie state, but I feared if I waited until tomorrow (later today), I would once again fail to drag myself to the computer to write.
Not that I'm not on the computer almost every waking moment of the day. My addiction to Neopets lately has been chronic. It seems that I can only be addicted to one electronic thing at a time. Final Fantasy X, reading blogs, Neopets...
It is amazing how much a loser I am. It's not that I have a short attention span, it's only that I get obsessive, and lose all interest in other things once I've spent one thing to spend the next 10 hours immersing myself in.
I often have so much that I want to do, I don't know what to do with myself.
This is not particularly the case lately though. Especially this last week. We found out we need major work done on the house, and all energy I can muster during my free moments between the hours of 9-5 have had to be used to look into contractors.
I'm so depressed at the end of the day at what little has been accomplished in that area, that I kind of feel too guilty to spend my free time on anything else. So I watch TV or do Neopets.
I have always done this to myself, since college. If there's something I need to do, like homework, and I don't want to do it, I try to convince myself to do something I'd really like to do instead. Say, read this great book I just bought. But, knowing this will be such an amazing way to spend my time that I may never tear myself away and actually do my homework, I sit there for awhile, unable to do homework or read the book. I have found myself literally just sitting in place doing NOTHING but contemplating which thing to decide on for minutes at a time. Until finally, doing the homework becomes such a tiring thought, and reading the book has become too guilty a pleasure, I TURN ON THE FUCKING TELEVISION.
How fucked up is that?
So, gone is my motivation to write a novel next month. Or at least plan for it during this month. I've convinced myself that since I've wasted this week, I'll never pick it up again, never plan or prepare, and November will be down the tubes.
Because I know myself, and I do shitty things like this to myself all the time.
Here's to hoping I can shake the funk, take care of the house, and remember to enjoy life and my goals. All over again. It just gets so tiring being me sometimes. To constantly kick myself in the ass to do the things I actually WANT to do.
I had a mini-pseudo-epiphany the other day. Maybe my near-constant fatigue is simply my body telling me it's WAY FUCKING TIRED of constantly expending too much energy just to move. Just to put one foot in front of the other sometimes takes an act of will that needs to be shoved through a session of Congress that is my mind's inner debate. It is just so tiring to be me sometimes.
Maybe even all the time, and this is why I'm so tired all the time.
I'm not sure I believe that. But my hunches about myself usually turn out to have at least some merit.
Maybe it's time to call Rosa again. I'm not afraid for myself. I believe I'm still capable of happiness. I'm still looking forward to our trip to see Heather in 3 weeks. I still like to cuddle my husband. I still enjoy sex. I still like entertaining myself.
I'm just concerned about all this other stuff.
4:52pm. About half an hour. My eyes hurt. I hope this isn't so long that nobody reads it. Then again, I'm not sure anybody would anyway.
It's very odd. I am steadily getting about 40 hits a day. And no one ever signs the guest book to say a single thing to me about me spilling my guts. I know a majority of hits are Googles, but doesn't ANYONE read the blog? Ever? Weird.
I at least read an entry or two when I stumble upon a blog that I'm visiting for other reasons. Oh, but now that I think about it, I can't remember the last time I did that and cared enough to note the person about what I read. Then again, so many blogs out there are just short little entries, it's hard to get to know the person over 1 or 2 entries. And you kind of have to get hit with a feeling of knowing what they're talking about to hit that "comment" button.
I think I put *alot* of myself into every damned entry here. Or almost every one. I keep telling myself to update more often. But, there ya go, back to square one and lack-of-motivation. Bah.
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So the novel preparation is really coming along. It seems every time I finally make myself sit down to do something, it's easier than I could have even hoped. (This is often true of my writing in general, so hopefully November will swim by!)
Early last week I decided to write up some Character Profiles, something I have never really done before, and yet seemed pretty standard according to posts in the Nanowrimo Forums. I really liked this one. Scroll down beyond the couple of paragraphs of text (which I didn't bother reading, sorry!), and there is a long "Character Profile Worksheet".
I did one for each of my main characters, and while my mind was wandering trying to come up with stuff, I created 5 minor characters out of nowhere. I created relationships between these eight characters that I wasn't expecting, and the whole thing really "fleshed out" my story.
I've been "resting on my laurels" for about a week now, and finally decided it was time to "hunker down" and work out a plot outline. While I did make "bare minimum" (name, age, hair & eye color. done.) character profiles for one story a long time ago, I have definitely never worked from a plot outline before. Everything has always just come while I write, leading me to new plot points. Exciting, but is it really any wonder that I have such a poor "track record" with completing stories?
So tonight I sat down with some blank paper, a half-sheet that I had written in 2000 because I was wondering about the appeal of "cowboy" romances, and my copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Getting Your Romance Published.
I wasn't very convinced this book could help me with much when I bought it, except maybe help when I finally had something to try and publish, but inside was a section on formulas for romances. And I realized it would be pretty easy to turn that cowboy romance into a formula romance. No, "it's not world peace". No, "it's not going to win a Pulitzer". But can I finish it? I think so, I really do.
I focused on the part where she plot-outlines Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, where you're given this formula:
1. Setting the scene
2. The meeting
3. & 4. Development
5. Conflict arises
6. & 7. Periods of happiness
8. Conflict explodes
9. Period of misery
10. Resolution
Once I read that, I just *knew* I could write a romance, and finish it.
And I finished plotting in under 45 minutes. I can't quite believe it. I didn't exactly follow the formula, but oh well. It looks like it's going to work! Yee-haw!
Now "how do I face myself in the mirror knowing" I'm writing a cowboy romance?
I still need to "get into character", make sure I remember my main characters really well, and can "feel" them and their motivations easily.
But before that, I would like to spend some more time fleshing out those minor characters. And rename one of them. Names have to sound just right in my head, so I spend "way too much" time picking each one. "By the time" I got to this character, no last name was clicking with his first, so I just grabbed one at random and wrote it down. And I hate it. It feels like there's a thorn in my psyche, and if I turn to look, I can see the letters of that name GLOWING AT ME, begging to be changed to something else.
How anal retentive can I be? Please, just don't ask. Instead, look at all the things I quotes in this entry. They're clichés. NOB, do I suck at writing. "Me fail English? That's unpossible!"
~ * ~
We had a great time in Long Beach this last weekend with Heather and Jim.
They're engaged! Yay!!!!! At the end of the weekend when we were saying out goodbyes, I pointed it out again to say YAY!!! all over again. Heather said, "It's about time", looked at Jim and then burst out laughing. I can't believe I hadn't thought of what a big deal this was until then: he had been asking her since he moved to Oregon (before he moved?) if she would marry him. I think it may have even been a joke for awhile. But now I feel like I was a dolt. I mean, what changed her mind? Shouldn't I have asked her that? Bah, I'm a horrible friend!
The coast was just magnificent. After heavy rains and state-wide flooding the week before, we were amazed to wake up Friday morning to see the sun. And it just got better and better as the weekend progressed. I was wishing for shorts by Saturday afternoon. Sunday was almost hot.
We only went to the beach ones. Not many shells on this beach. A bunch of jellyfish though. Every couple hundred feet there'd be another one, and I'd want to "save" it. Poor jellies. Weirder, there were no less than 5 dead seagulls, just along the short strip (1/2 mile?) Eric and I walked.
The neighbors were all bastards. There was a big party group two doors down, that insisted on partying all hours on the deck, so we could hear everything. There were the kids up at 7 am trying to scare seagulls by screaming at them. There were the people directly above us that paced the entire weekend, with the except of 6am to 10am Sunday morning: their floorboards/our ceiling squeaked mercilessly with every pass. Oh, and Heather's mom called our room at about 8 in the morning Sunday.
So sleep was in short supply. Oh well, it was worth it for the nice weekend.
We watched scary movies at night. Rented 28 Days Later because they hadn't seen it and Eric wanted to see the alternate ending. Everybody really liked it.
I'm not exactly sure now how The Caveman's Valentine got thrown in there, but we watched that Saturday over dinner (yummie soft tacos, courtesy of Jim & Heather in the kitchen for way too long). Weird movie with Samuel L. Jackson as a paranoid schizophrenic.
Then we watched the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Now, I've read tons about this since the new remake has come out. All about how brilliant it was/is. All about how it came to be. Learned it's *not* a true story. Nope, the creater was in a hardware store jam packed with people and upon wondering how to get to the exit most easily, he happened to spy chain saws on the wall. Leatherface was inspired by a serial killer from Wisconsin (if I remember my states correctly), who was caught in the 50's. He killed lots of people in various places, but there was never any mention of a chain saw. Plus, the guy who played Leatherface was given the ok to develop his character on his own. Oh, and the movie doesn't actually say it's a true story anywhere.
So, um, why wasn't it scary? Um, at all? I'm pretty sure I didn't even jump when anything jumped out. And there wasn't anything to flinch at. Except maybe the wailing of the main woman in the last scenes of the film as she's running everywhere but to safety.
I'm not saying it wasn't well made. Or that I couldn't see some impressive cinematography (someone online mentioned the beauty of the last shot of the film, and they were right, eerily so). I'll definitely grant you that this would have been shocking when it was released in the early 70's. Death, dismemberment, cow slaughtering discussions, self-mutilation, cannibalism, familial madness. Yep, it's a fucked up story. But I wasn't scared once.
Heather did not want us to go out afterwards to watch the stars, around midnight. I assured her we would be fine, that I wasn't spooked. And we were fine, and I wasn't spooked. Until we got to the crest where, if we'd ventured farther, we would have been out of sight of the lodge. And then my normal paranoia of getting jumped in the dark by a rapist awoke. So frustrating, to be standing next to your husband, calmly discussing things, gazing at the stars, and not daring to go 10 more feet because some rapist is just waiting for me in the shadows.
*sigh*
MON 10.20.03 @ 10:24pm
Today I: was beaten up by last night's meal; slept on and off until after 3pm; watched the rain; decided which idea to turn into a novel for Nanowrimo; named my main characters; researched Illinois and Wisconsin as settings; learned about tornadoes; spent way too much time in the Character and Plot Realism Q&A Forum at Nanowrimo; watched the movie "Enough" with Jennifer Lopez (it was alot better than I thought it was going to be).
Right now I: am wondering how on earth I'm going to get to sleep at a reasonable hour.
I am behind where I wanted to be in planning the novel, but lots of things have been swimming in my head to flesh out the story. I'm hoping to have character development completed sometime by Friday, so I can enjoy myself this upcoming weekend with Heather and Jim and my Sweetie. And possibly sneak in some contemplation time for the novel (this is what long car rides are for).
Next week, plot outline.
FRI 10.17.03 @ 11:56pm
It's Friday, I can do something light, right? I stole this from J2
1) If you went crazy and decided to go on a mass killing spree, what song would you be listening to as you were pumping lead/tearing apart/stabbing your victims?
Ministry's live version of Stigmata (from In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up): "FUCK YOU! FUCK ME! FUCK JESUS! FUCK THE CHURCH! FUCK MARY! FUCK GEORGE BUSH! FUCK TIPPER GORE!"
2) Do you have a song that you can listen to that puts you in a better mood than you were in prior to listening to the song?
"Alright" on SuperDeluxe's 2nd album, Via Satellite. It reminds me of The Beatles for some reason. Which is odd, because I don't particularly like the Beatles.
3) What song is your "guilty pleasure?"
Ricky Martin's self titled Ricky Martin, the whole album.
4) Is there a song/songs that made you cry? What was it/were they?
Extremely beautiful voices have a tendency to make me cry: "Bridge Over Troubled Water" comes to mind.
5) Name an artist you like that would surprise people who think they know you.
Ashanti. Beyonce. Louis Armstrong. Patsy Cline.
6) Is there a song you could never get sick of?
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What A Wonderful World" by Iz
7) Is there a song or band that you won't listen to because of the emotional turmoil that you're reminded of that surrounded you when you did listen to that song or band?
I almost ruined one of my favorite albums, Blue Wonder Power Milk by Hooverphonic, because I listened to it over and over while writing my short story "Awakened Dream". Which I notice I have yet to put on the fiction page. Freudian slip?
8) Describe one memory you have (off the top of your head) that surrounds a particular song, which will immediately pop into your head when you hear it, and name the song too.
When I was 11 or 12, I kept repeating Prince's Purple Rain soundtrack over and over while I read The Neverending Story. Lesser-played songs on the album bring back vivid flashes of the story in my mind, especially the first notes of "Darling Nikki".
9) Name one CD you regret buying. Or owning.
Santana's Supernatural. One song was *not* enough to convert me.
10) Last but not least - Slap down lyrics from ONE song that would best describe you and/or your feelings in general (don't take a lot of time to think about it, it can just be how you're feeling right now). Note who it's by, what song, and album.
Institutionalized by Suicidal Tendencies, from their debut Suicidal Tendencies
Sometimes I try to do things, and it just don't turn out the way I wanted to and I get real frustrated, it's like, I take my time and I try real hard, but no matter what I do and no matter what I try it never works out, it's like I concentrate on it real hard, but it never works out, it's like I need some time to figure these things out, but there's always someone there going:
- Hey Mike, you know, we been noticing you've been having alot of problems lately, you know, and like maybe you should talk about it, you'd feel alot better.
And I go:
- No, it's ok, I know I have some problems, I'll figure it out myself, just leave me alone I'll figure it out.
And they go:
- Why don't you talk about it, you'll feel alot better?
And I go:
- No, I don't want to, just leave me alone, I'll figure it out myself! And they keep on bugging me and it builds up inside, it builds up inside...
So you're gonna be institutionalized
You'll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes
You won't have any say
They'll brainwash you until you see their way
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was sitting in my room, and I was like staring at the walls thinking about everything but then again I was thinking about nothing, and then my mom came in and I didn't notice she was there and she calls my name and I didn't hear her and then she started screaming:
- Mike, Mike!
And I go:
- What, what's the matter?
She goes:
- What's the matter with you?
I say:
- Nothing mom.
She goes:
- Don't tell me nothing, you're on drugs!
I go:
- No mom, I'm not on drugs, I'm ok, I'm just thinking, you know, why don't you get me a Pepsi?
She goes:
- No, you're on drugs, you're crazy, normal people won't be acting that way!
I go:
- Mom, I'm all right, I'm just thinking, you know, so why don't you, like give me a Pepsi?
And she goes:
- No, you're crazy!
All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give it to me, just one Pepsi...
They give you a white shirt with long sleeves
Tied around you're back, you're treated like thieves
Drug you up because they're lazy
It's too much work to help a crazy
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in and they pulled up a chair and they sat down, they go:
- Mike, we need to talk to you.
And I said:
- Okay, what's the matter?
They go:
- Well me and your mom, we been noticing lately you've been having alot of problems, and you haven't been acting like yourself, and we're afraid that you're going to hurt somebody, and we're afraid that you're gonna hurt yourself, so we decided that it would be in your best interest if we put you somewhere where you could get the help that you need...
And I said:
- Wait, what are we talking about?! We decided?! My best interest?! How can you know, how can you say what my best interest is? What are you trying to say? I'm crazy? When I went to your schools, I went to your churches, I went to your institutional learning facilities. So how can you say that I'm crazy?
They say they're gonna fix my brain
Alleviate my suffering and my pain
But by the time they fix my head
Mentally I'll be dead
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
It doesn't matter their insurance money¹s about to run out anyhow.
THU 10.16.03 @ 9:02pm
Each day, there are highs and lows. I'm trying to focus my spare energies on gearing up for November, so the highs and lows effect that. I feel nervous; then I feel ok about that, as everyone's in the same boat; then I feel there's too much going on to try this, that I'm going to fall flat on my face.
Right now, I'm feeling better about it. I had a jarring image in my head today, and I gave myself the luxury of spinning it out in my head, rather than push it aside to work. I just now put a bit of it on a post-it and put it on my "idea wall".
At which point I looked at this old idea I had that I thought was a worthless cliché, and a word caught my eye. I re-read the entire thing, a few paragraphs of back story and very vague plot line. It's alot more than I thought it was. I can't remember writing some of that.
So two fresh ideas to think about. Plus the one that I'm really leaning towards, but seems too autobiographical to pursue. I've read a number of posts in the NaNoWriMo forums from people who tried stuff that was too autobiographical their first time around, and they failed utterly. So that scares me.
But all of my writing is largely autobiographical. I realized a few years ago that all my characters, every last one of them, are me. It's why it's so hard to have characters fight and have conflicts. So I tried really hard to change my characters in my "novel" to be more not-me. That was interesting.
But now I'm much more confident in my ability to create characters.
But I'm currently worried that, while my old belief that I never get ideas isn't exactly true, all my ideas seem to just be a flash of a scene. Just one scene. How do you build a novel around one scene? This is the problem with the post-it I just put on my wall. It may be interesting to try and create a plot around it, but I don't know if I have enough time to do that before November.
I really need to make a decision SOON, so I can work on plot and developing character backstories.
On the very, very plus side, I'm not as intimidated by the 50,000 goal. MS Word has a nifty word-count feature. My novel is currently at 184 pages and 70,114 words. True, the core of that was written over about 6 months and I've been fiddling and/or adding to it ever since.
But look at this: I am average 380 words per page. To hit 50,000 words, that would equal 131.5 pages. 131.50/30 days = 4.4 pages per day.
How hard can it be to write four and a half pages a day?
Where is that laughing coming from?
THU 10.16.03 @ 9:49am
Fuck, forgot to post this last night. Written yesterday afternoon from work:
It's raining pretty good, and I'm really, really, really wishing I'd stayed home to watch it. It makes it that much harder to stay feeling like I'm going to fall asleep if I don't get up and run laps around the office. Woke up with horrible sinus pain and soooo unbelievably tired. This is what happens when I stay up past 11:30pm 2 nights in a row on work nights.
So I did it. I finally went over to NaNoWriMo and signed up. And immediately freaked out. Not once since I decided to do this back in August/September, have I felt *afraid*. I've felt indecisive, confused, had a lack of focus. But yesterday I was a bit intimidated and worried that I had no clue what the hell I was doing.
I think because part of me is questioning whether I'm really a writer. I gave myself that title when I was 12, and have worn in proudly in my own head ever since.
But my lack of committment, my lack of ideas, my lack of true plots, really make me wonder. Maybe I'm just obsessed with words, the way I'm obsessed with art and music. But I'm certainly not an artist or musician. So what if I personally think my writing style is faboo? Maybe I'm not really a writer?
This was probably not what I should have been thinking about 24 hours before signing up, but there it was, slapping me in the face, when I saw that some people there actually have working TITLES for their pieces. Hell, I don't even know what I'm going to write about yet.
I feel better about it today. I spent last night doing some reading, found a chapter in a book on plotting that may be helpful. I never wanted to write a formulaic book, but maybe that would be easier, just this first time out of the gates? Anyway, the possibility set my mind at ease a bit.
I'm kind of worried about finding enough time to do this, so I really need to have a conversation with Eric about how important this is to me. I realized yesterday that I haven't even told him yet. I always think that once I post something on the net, everyone I love will instantly be informed. Then I realize that none of them actually read this, and it feels kind of like repeating myself.
Writing in your blog should feel like repeating yourself, not telling your friends and loved ones important things. I spend way too much time on the net, even if I am falling way behind updating this blog. I can't believe there is a NaNoWriMo bloggers group. How on earth are they going to find the time to blog while they're writing a novel???
Wish me luck everyone. Now that I want to start writing again, I need to pour that into preparing for November, instead of updating here. Sorry.
Can I say Holy Shit?!?
What's Your Outlook on Life?
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MON 10.13.03 @ 11:20pm
Saw 2 movies this weekend on DVD, one of which I wrote a review of: a gorgeous (but short) anime called Voices of A Distant Star.
I also saw Down With Love. I knew I was going to like it, because I have the HUGEST crush on Ewan McGregor. He just keeps making movies where he sings, and it gets me every time. I need to rewatch some of his older films to see if he sings in them too. I just assumed at the time that he was lip syncing someone else's voice in A Life Less Ordinary, but now I'm thinking it had to be him.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that it was smarter than I thought it was going to be. Not *quite* as cutesy as I thought it was going to be. Don't get me wrong, it's a fluffy romance. But with all that pink and the fact that it's in some romantic's daydream of 1960's New York, I was surprised that it was... kind of smart. Kind of a spoof. With a twist at the end that I didn't know to expect. So if any Ewan fan is on the fence about this one, go see it, because his million dollar smile is abundant and his accent is all over the place in this one, so you'll be sure to swoon. And if you're a Renée Zellweger fan on the fence, what are you waiting for? She's cute as a button as usual, and she steals the show with that smart twist at the end.
And I almost forgot, but I finally caught Equilibrium on DVD as well. I really liked it. It's Fahrenheit 451 meets The Matrix, which is very cool. Excellent set and costume designs. Very subtle acting, especially Christian Bale. Off the top of my head, this is the best performance I can think of from him.* I'm really surprised this didn't do better. I think it was released in direct competition with The Matrix Reloaded though, so that might explain it. I remember thinking at the time that it was advertised poorly, and opened at a crappy time against major players. Anyway, this entry is running long, so I'll just say my favorite part of the film is just watching Christian experiencing emotions for the first time. The way he touches things and these subtle changes of facial expression appear on his face. Wow. Excellent acting, excellent cinematography. And there was much Kung-Fu to rival The Matrix, right down to a direct threat to the impressive "Lobby Scene". Which was kind of... in a lobby as well, now that I think of it.
*Edit: think Swing Kids, Velvet Goldmine, and Empire of the Sun. This guy is all about powerful facial expressions. C.B. is gonna kick ASS as the next Batman.
MON 10.13.03 @ 6:38pm
The weather here has been really lovely. Rainy, dark, blustery. A real Fall. Very refreshing. People are already speculating that it will be a cold winter. Who are these people? Do some people just feel it in their bones or something?
So how is Mysie doing? She is not doing excellent. She's not doing bad. Well, not that bad. Depression is here again, proof that there is no cure. I'm trying not to run to Rosa at the first sign of trouble, but it's been about 2 weeks now, and I don't seem to be getting better (or worse), so I'm not sure.
So, lately I haven't been interested in much but television. Luckily, the new TV season just started. But I'm anti-social. I'm eating more. I don't really care to go out. It's harder to go to work in the mornings. Harder to care about my diet in the evenings. I haven't had any motivation to write, or even read a book, in weeks. And, the real joy: chaotic, paranoid emotions. Yay!
I need to find something to throw my energy into. I read a book in 24 hours this weekend (blazing speed for me, despite the larger typeface), which is a good start. Reading one book makes me want to read more, makes me want to write.
I think if I can find something to throw myself into that I won't feel is a complete waste of my time (ie: Neopets and The Sims), that I will get stimulated about other things as well.
I had so much more energy a month ago. Well, not energy. I've been pretty low energy for awhile now. But my mind was charged, excited. I'm not sure how something like that could have evaporated so fast.
I'm pretty sure it's the damned house. We just found out we need to replace an entire wall of our house. An exterior/interior wall that will cost us THOUSANDS of dollars that we don't really have. I've been trying to stay positive about it, and for the most part I have been, but my emotions elsewhere have really suffered. I can only figure that it's stressing me more than I know.
It really sucks that one thing goes wrong and I can get so low. I only keep reassuring myself that at least this isn't as bad as college.
I'm alive and in love, and everything else is just gravy. So I know I'll be alright, as long as I can say that and mean it. Eric doesn't quite understand it, but I also think he doesn't get as low as I do. Hence, he's never been in therapy, and I don't believe he's ever needed it. Hopefully I don't need it just yet either. Here's to finding some biscuits for that gravy.
~ * ~
Odd thought of the moment: do you think people who have sex changes worry about changing their handwriting after the change? I just got a fax from someone with horrible handwriting, but if the person who I talked to on the phone was really the person who filled it out, then it was a woman. I have never looked at handwriting and said to myself, "This has got to be a man's handwriting" and been wrong. A woman's handwriting can be sloppy, but a man's is never pretty.
~ * ~
So here's what's bothering me the most at the moment: I love Fall, and I can't really get into it this year. And not because I don't want to, because I do. But because I'm afraid to spend any money, since we're facing an impending financial crisis (we have not had the house long enough to develop enough equity to get a home equity loan for the repair). This pisses me off. We finally have a house of our own, where we'll finally get at least a few Trick-or-Treaters (NOB make it so), and I can't allow myself to spend the money to decorate or get a costume.
As I was talking to myself, my inner-monologue, trying to accept this into my head, it hit me: what about Christmas? And I really freaked out. I was terribly depressed last year that we didn't have a tree. That was the main reason I was so anxious to buy a house at the end of last year, and why I was so elated when we got our Christmas presents of checks from Eric's grandmother. We could finally buy a house where there would ALWAYS be room for a tree!
And that very morning, I went online to look at houses, and I found this lovely little two-story and I could not stop looking at it. I was infatuated. Because I could imagine perfectly what it would look like in Christmas lights and some snow on the ground. I was in love. And after all the pain of the house hunting, the disappointment of losing the first house we bid on, we actually bought that house. The very first house I fell in love with on the day we knew we could start looking. The one that will look great decorated for Christmas.
I don't know what I'll do if we don't have a real Christmas this year. I had wanted to invite everyone over. Imagine, both of our families in one house, so for once we didn't have to go to 2 houses in one day. For the first time in over 10 years!
I think I will be ok not doing that this year, and planning on it next year, as long as we can somehow afford to get everyone on our list a little something, send out Christmas cards, and get at least some lights on the house. And a tree. Definitely a tree. Our front room is so bare, there will always be room for one!!!
I think if I look at the sales, and get the cheapest lights possible, I can make this work. Eric has already agreed that Christmas is too important not to spend enough to get everyone at least a *little* something and a tree. All I have to do is get really cheap lights! Now only if it will snow...
SAT 10.04.03 @ 5:28am
I swear I'm going straight to bed, after I write this quick entry about Xanadu.
It was on cable today (twice), and this is the first time I've watched it since... probably since it hit cable sometime after it was released in 1980. I hardly remembered a thing. I don't remember being that fond of this film, despite an obsession with Olivia Newton-John. Fuck if I didn't remember most of the words to all the songs though. I can honestly say I still adore the sound track.
The oddest part was the animation sequence by Don Bluth. I *really* don't remember that being in there. But it was so obviously Bluth's work, I felt silly looking it up to confirm that. Unlike Disney movies, all of Bluth's works have the same look, which I find endearing. Probably because he is the main illustrator in all of them.
Anyway, back to Xanadu: it was still a wretched movie. But I couldn't stop watching it. I can't believe Gene Kelly was in it! I'm quite sure back when I saw it the first time I had no idea who the fuck Gene Kelly was.
It's weird looking back on your childhood and seeing things about yourself you didn't remember yesterday. I had completely forgotten about this movie and my obsession with OJN.
FYI, the review at IMDB by "Brandon L. Sites" is spot on.
SAT 10.04.03 @ 5:04am
It is almost 4:30am. Please bare with me if my thoughts are a little incoherent, or if I tend to ramble.
Why am I awake? Cramps. I always feel like no one will take me seriously if I'm honest about that. But I seriously wanted to die yesterday when the onset was so quick, and so horrifyingly painful as I waited for the drugs to kick in, that I wasn't sure I was going to complete my drive to work in safety. I reached work and ran in to do unspeakable things in the bathroom.
This is where my fear of all pain comes from. My tolerance of varying degree for all painkillers wrecks my life every 4 weeks.
I remember one day in the 4th grade, a few periods into The Curse, sitting on the stoop of my class before the day started. Praying to God to relieve me from this duty Eve had bestowed on me.
How old is one in the 4th grade? 10 years old? That is some fucked up shit to make a 10 year old go through.
But I didn't sit down to write an entry about this particular hell. Regardless of how horrendous(?sp) it is at the moment, this too shall pass, and I shall once again be able to sleep.
Nope, after visiting my favorite blog for the first time in fuck knows when (haven't been to read any blogs at all in weeks), I was inspired to write something. Anything.
I am fearful of my state of mind over the past week. It feels like depression without the... depression. Lack of interest in pretty much everything but sleep and television and a quick snuggle with my husband on occassion. But I'm not sad. Or even angry. Stressed, yes. But amazingly unmotivated to do anything. And not enough energy to even care, much less do anything about it.
This realization is kinda new, so I have no "statement of resolution" to wrap up that last paragraph. I'm just gonna let it float out there, to worry the friends and/or relatives who may or may not read this anytime soon.
I should not be writing in this zombie state, but I feared if I waited until tomorrow (later today), I would once again fail to drag myself to the computer to write.
Not that I'm not on the computer almost every waking moment of the day. My addiction to Neopets lately has been chronic. It seems that I can only be addicted to one electronic thing at a time. Final Fantasy X, reading blogs, Neopets...
It is amazing how much a loser I am. It's not that I have a short attention span, it's only that I get obsessive, and lose all interest in other things once I've spent one thing to spend the next 10 hours immersing myself in.
I often have so much that I want to do, I don't know what to do with myself.
This is not particularly the case lately though. Especially this last week. We found out we need major work done on the house, and all energy I can muster during my free moments between the hours of 9-5 have had to be used to look into contractors.
I'm so depressed at the end of the day at what little has been accomplished in that area, that I kind of feel too guilty to spend my free time on anything else. So I watch TV or do Neopets.
I have always done this to myself, since college. If there's something I need to do, like homework, and I don't want to do it, I try to convince myself to do something I'd really like to do instead. Say, read this great book I just bought. But, knowing this will be such an amazing way to spend my time that I may never tear myself away and actually do my homework, I sit there for awhile, unable to do homework or read the book. I have found myself literally just sitting in place doing NOTHING but contemplating which thing to decide on for minutes at a time. Until finally, doing the homework becomes such a tiring thought, and reading the book has become too guilty a pleasure, I TURN ON THE FUCKING TELEVISION.
How fucked up is that?
So, gone is my motivation to write a novel next month. Or at least plan for it during this month. I've convinced myself that since I've wasted this week, I'll never pick it up again, never plan or prepare, and November will be down the tubes.
Because I know myself, and I do shitty things like this to myself all the time.
Here's to hoping I can shake the funk, take care of the house, and remember to enjoy life and my goals. All over again. It just gets so tiring being me sometimes. To constantly kick myself in the ass to do the things I actually WANT to do.
I had a mini-pseudo-epiphany the other day. Maybe my near-constant fatigue is simply my body telling me it's WAY FUCKING TIRED of constantly expending too much energy just to move. Just to put one foot in front of the other sometimes takes an act of will that needs to be shoved through a session of Congress that is my mind's inner debate. It is just so tiring to be me sometimes.
Maybe even all the time, and this is why I'm so tired all the time.
I'm not sure I believe that. But my hunches about myself usually turn out to have at least some merit.
Maybe it's time to call Rosa again. I'm not afraid for myself. I believe I'm still capable of happiness. I'm still looking forward to our trip to see Heather in 3 weeks. I still like to cuddle my husband. I still enjoy sex. I still like entertaining myself.
I'm just concerned about all this other stuff.
4:52pm. About half an hour. My eyes hurt. I hope this isn't so long that nobody reads it. Then again, I'm not sure anybody would anyway.
It's very odd. I am steadily getting about 40 hits a day. And no one ever signs the guest book to say a single thing to me about me spilling my guts. I know a majority of hits are Googles, but doesn't ANYONE read the blog? Ever? Weird.
I at least read an entry or two when I stumble upon a blog that I'm visiting for other reasons. Oh, but now that I think about it, I can't remember the last time I did that and cared enough to note the person about what I read. Then again, so many blogs out there are just short little entries, it's hard to get to know the person over 1 or 2 entries. And you kind of have to get hit with a feeling of knowing what they're talking about to hit that "comment" button.
I think I put *alot* of myself into every damned entry here. Or almost every one. I keep telling myself to update more often. But, there ya go, back to square one and lack-of-motivation. Bah.
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2002