Time to Edit the Book

Soo....I've decided that I will pay an outrageous amount of money (especially considering that I'm likely to be unemployed soon) to go to a writer's conference and shop my book. In order to do that I have to edit it. It's kind of like the writers equivalent of giving birth and then having to change diapers. Or in this case, really poopy diapers, that have leaked, all over the living room couch. Still I must gird my loins (heh, that phrase always makes me think of something dirty) and get on with the business of getting on with the business of writing.

And, you know, blogging too. Sort of.

Possibly I'm the Worst Blogger in the World

Or maybe not, I don't known. For some reason I've just been having terrible ear wax build up lately. Dunno what that's about. Anyway, it's time for my annual promise to write more often.

You do know I'm a liar, right?

FreeRice

I'm a good citizen. And rilly, rilly smart, too.

FreeRice

FreeRice

I'm a good citizen.

FreeRice

I Have SOMETHING To Say, I Just Know It!

Sooooo, Auntie Three is mad at me because I didn't show up to a family thing, after telling her that I was coming and bringing 4 people with me. I had a good reason for not going, but I don't remember what it is right now. And honestly, I'm so over that whole hen party I can't tell you how much I don't care. She can have all the Christmases, and I will just take the kids and get Chinese.

What else? O hai, I moved in with the boyfriend. And his dad. Which is...weird, just weird. But we'll see how it goes. He's been incredibly grumpy since I moved in, but I can't determine if this is 'you're all up in my face, bitch' grumpy or just his usual 'why should I bother to be civil, we both know you aren't going anywhere' grumpy. And really, would it make a difference if I did know? Probably not.

I got turned down for astronaut training again. I guess it's time to update my resume and write a new essay. If I win the lottery, I am on a Russian spaceship so fast it will make your propellers spin.

Blechh, this is boring. I guess I didn't have anything to say after all.

Sorry about the wasting of your time. Send me an invoice if you like.

As If My Imagination Isn't Enough...

Auntie One, who I love dearly but sometimes really wonder about sent me this:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/01/15/entrapment.pools/index.html

to my work email address. Because I really needed to know that my children are at risk of being eviscerated by random swimming pools. Like right away. Couldn't wait until I got home to find that one out. Nope.

Oh, and the first offspring tells me casually that Auntie Three is gossiping about me unkindly behind my back. Like I didn't already know this, or needed it to be confirmed.

This is really my life. It kinda sucks.

No wonder I have the urge to play dress up and be referred to as milady. I mean, wouldn't you?

Pills for Everyone!

Forgot to mention that I have gotten the kids on ADD medication. Don't judge me, they both really need this medication. The first offspring is actually doing well in school, for him. He's failing all of his classes, but at least he's managing to stay in them and not get kicked out for outrageously disruptive behavior. I hate homework. It's God's punishment for not being born knowing everything, but thinking you do when you are young.

What else. Oh, yes! I haven't had any sex for the last six weeks. I think I should be annoyed about this, but actually I'm not sure I want to have sex with the boyfriend right now. I'm still really freakin' pissed at him, and my medication has dialed down my usually racing libido. It's an interesting phenomenon, really because I remember how I used to feel. I just don't feel that way anymore.

Two Visits to the Doctor

So on Tuesday I went to the new shrink. She is really sincere and enthusiastic, and she thinks I'm really honest and forthright and was just tickled at the idea of working with me. And I just hate her. I can't get into that bubbly, oozing personality at all. I want to tell her to back up because she's just gushing all over me and I feel like I need to take a shower inside my brain. It has the emotional equivalent of being licked in the face by a big sloppy, slobbery dog tongue. I don't know quite what to do, because I'm not sure I can work with her. If that's really her personality type, ick. It's like being massaged with a cheese grater. Really. But I feel like I should try at least a couple more sessions, because if I don't I didn't give her a fair chance to get beyond first impressions. If she's always like that though, I just cannot work with her. She's too, too, TOO annoying.

There is just no nice way to tell some one that you hate their personality is there?

The thing is, I really like the medication doctor. She's calm, centered, and makes me feel secure. She's young, but she just has this air of authority that I find...comforting. Like she did her homework and she knows exactly what the hell she's talking about. Why can't I just have her as the shrink? It's sad really, that the really good people are so rare.

Also I hate the kids' doctor. That was yesterday's visit. He's so freaking slow! I don't mean stupid...um...I don't think I mean stupid. The guy got through medical school after all. (Although I don't know that this should be a criteria by which to judge intelligence, actually.) I mean deliberate slowness. Like he can't work at a speed above gentle cruise. I don't think I really need to go to the first offspring's doctor's appointments any more once I get him on the medication. If I ever actually GET him on the medication. This is another aspect of the doctor's deliberateness, and probably the thing I'm so annoyed about. Before he writes a prescription, he has to THINK about what the best approach would be. I wanted to scream "listen buddy, just WRITE THE DAMN PRESCRIPTION!"

Of course that would have gotten me nowhere. He was also more than happy to engage the offspring in one of those intermintable random debates that make me want to carry around duct tape and a tranquilzer gun. I thought it was really rude, too, since we'd been waiting to see him for two hours (he got called away for an emergency, and then another emergency and in the meantime all the staff just went home and left us there in the office completely alone), and then instead of taking care of business and then getting us the hell out of there, he was oh so willing to engage in this stupid verbal debate. Like, oh yes I have nothing to do in life but listen to the doctor and the offspring discuss whether or not the offspring will be successful in life if he never, ever can comply with any authority figure, ever. HE WON'T! There, debate over.

While we were waiting for the doctor, which took forever, the offspring stole someone's snack food. What does it say about me as a parent that I found this amusing rather than shocking? Am I just morally bankrupt? Should this bother me? I think I will talk to the shrink about it next session. She will probably find my honest exploration of my potential moral bankruptcy refreshing.

Both of these visits, by the way, took over two hours. I don't know why people complain that they don't see the doctor enough. Maybe they just aren't interesting enough to hold the doctor's attention? And aren't I the elitist bitch? Actually, yes, I am.

Battles on the Homefront

So the first offspring is getting in trouble in school, but what else is new? I wish I could say that the way the boyfriend is dealing with this issue is different, but that's old news too. They just don't like each other, and I'm stuck right in the middle. The boyfriend thinks I need to get tougher with the offspring (as if that were going to do anything) and that he doesn't respect me, and the offspring thinks that the boyfriend is full of shit and doesn't respect me. And honestly, I can see both of their points. When did I become this wimp that everyone could walk over? I wasn't like this before I had kids. I was ferocious. I remember being ferocious. Now I'm just tired.

I don't understand why they can't find some common ground. It tears me in two, really. As sad and pathetic as it is, I do love the boyfriend. And I love the first offspring too, although it seems to be his mission in life to make that as close to impossible as he is able to. And damn if he's not close. But as difficult as he is, I can't stand for the boyfriend to insult him when we're talking about him. It's as if he doesn't think about the fact that the person we're discussing is my child. He says he gets angry because the offspring is hurting me and he doesn't like to see me get hurt, but somehow he can't see that when we have these arguments the things that HE says are hurting me too. I'm guess I'm just the punching bag in the middle of the gym that everyone gets to take a swing at whenever they're feeling a little frustrated.

It's a good thing that my anti-crazy drugs are so stellar. If they weren't I might be dressed up like a chicken right now, walking trying to hold up the sky. At least this way, I'm not dressed like a chicken.

Michael Phelps

Whoo hoo! Eleven gold medals and counting. Do you think he can talk about anything besides swimming?

I wish I were that good at something. I guess if they ever make procrastination an Olympic sport, I could be a contender.

Men's Gymnastics

I was going to Twitter this, but I can't remember my password:

The Olympic finals of men's gymnastics was truly awesome last night. I was holding my breath a couple of times there. Too exciting. And I've never been prouder to see my country get a bronze medal.

I do hope that Michael Phelps wins his tenth gold medal.

Pen and Paper

I go back and forth about whether or not I like keyboarding my thoughts or writing them with pen and paper, but I think I like pen and paper, at least right now. There's something about the feel of a pen (or a pencil, or a crayon, if that what you can get) gliding across the paper that makes me feel more connected. Somehow typing words makes them feel like the thoughts and emotions I'm expressing aren't quite connected to me, and I'm just scattering bits of myself across the Universe.

This could also be another effect of the drugs.

Depression, Drugs, Anger and More About the Boyfriend

Hmm, so where do I start now? Here’s where: Can anti-depressants actually make you more depressed? I don’t know if my new pills are working or if they’re driving me just a little bit closer to a bloody, self-inflicted and unforgivable act of self-termination. I don’t think I’m suicidal in the normal sense thought. I think my anger has gotten so large and uncontrollable that the only place I can direct it any more is at me. And I’m very good at hurting me. I may, in fact, have done my heart permanent damage by stubbornly refusing to take the medication that will prevent it from eventually just blowing up from the pressure of too much crap in my arteries.

I hate my medication. Every pill feels like a failure of will.

I do think the anti-depressants are making me calmer, but I don’t know if I would call this calm a good calm. It’s more like a I’m-tired-and-I-don’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed-today-or-any-day kind of calm. I have the urge to listen to sappy love songs that make me feel bad about my relationship, angry rap that makes me feel bad about society, and indie rock that just makes me feel bad. I wish I could just be an alcoholic or a drug addict, but I don’t have the stamina for that kind of life. I’m too busy trying to figure out a way to please everyone else to please myself. Besides someone has to drop the kid off at daycare.

On the other hand, I’ve decided to start meditating. Supposedly this will make me happier, because meditation occurs in the right brain or something. I don’t know, I don’t really believe it, but I’m going to try it anyway. Because it my duty to keep trying, and a lot of days that’s all I feel like I have left. I’m not even sure I want to be happy any more. Or if I would know who I was if I were. Or even if I would know who I was if I weren’t struggling somewhere in life. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that no matter how good it gets, the kid will always be there to help me be miserable on the parenting front.

And there’s the boyfriend. Who is apparently also clinically depressed and really determined not to do anything meaningful about it. Why does being in love so often turn into a form of psychological torture? It’s the cosmic joke, right? The real punishment for being turned out of Eden. That reference to bringing forth children in pain had nothing to do with the act of birth, it was really talking about all the bullshit you go through in the relationship, before and after the kid. Or regardless of the kid. And since some people chose not to have kids, somebody thought of romance novels, and love songs, and chick flicks so the rest of the relationship-burdened world could be tortured by the concept of happily ever after. It sucks.

And the worst part of it all is that I don’t really know what I want from the boyfriend. Do I just want really good sex? Do I want attention? Do I want achievement? What? Will anything make me happy? And damn him, he asked me why I don’t have any faith in him. And I didn’t even know that I didn’t until he asked that. So now I’m completely tortured by that question. Why DON’T I have any faith in him? And this question: If I don’t have any, why do I still want him in my life so much?

I know part of it. Of course I do. It has to do with the years that he told me over and over that he didn’t want me. With absence, with other women, with anger and rejection, he told me this over and over. And I knew in my heart that it was a lie. I knew this. I had faith that underneath it all I loved him enough to rekindle the feelings I knew were inside him somewhere. And so now he tells me that he loves me. And instead of feeling good about it, instead of feeling vindicated and content with the results of my determination never to give up on him, all I do is wonder if my desire overcame his resistance. I can’t believe in what’s between us because I had to work too hard to get it. I wonder if he’s not sincere. I don’t know how to convince myself that I was right.

Maybe I can’t believe that he can love me, when I’ve never really been able to love myself.

Bathroom Serial Killer

I was just thinking that if I was going to be a serial killer, I would want to pick my targets from someplace really unimaginable, like the public bathroom, or the water fountain in a public park. But I don't think I'm ever going to be a serial killer. Not because I'm not filled with impotent rage and a desire to harm random strangers. Just because I'm too frickin' lazy to do anything that involved. I mean, it takes quite a bit of planning to be a successful serial killer, and if you're going to deliberately launch your life in such a twisted direction, you really owe it to the public to do it well enough so that they'll be entertained when they go to see the movie, right? So no random murdering of strangers for me. I got too much other crap to deal with right now.

Seriously though, I just read this book, "Way of the Pilgrim" which was very entertaining but kind of mired me in this existential question. Could man be happy as the slave of an entirely alien race if they were stronger and taller than we were, more disciplined and more honest?
Or is our xenophobia so genetically ingrained that we would resist alien rule just because they were aliens?

I am so not writing my 10 minutes per day. I might be writing 10 minutes per week if we average it out over the last 2 years. And include every time I filled out a form at the doctor's office, and entered a sweepstakes at the grocery store.

And this wasn't ten minutes either.

I can't sign on to Twitter

So I guess I'll just have to make my random thoughts an official and permanent part of the blog. Lets see:

The boyfriend is out of town. I miss him a little, but I have to say that it's not bothering me nearly as much as it usually does. Probably I shouldn't let him know that though. Is it possible to appear bored and distracted on Skype? He called last night, and I couldn't help but feel like he thought I should be entertaining him, but really I wasn't in the mood.

My room is a mess. A serious, serious mess. Also, I lost my driver's license a couple of days ago, which sucks for so many reasons. It's a good thing I have to renew it this year, or I'd be super annoyed, instead of really annoyed and a little freaked out.

I filed my income taxes, yay for me. Now I just have to catch up on some other crap and I'll be good.

That is such a lie, I'm never good for more than about six weeks. I think I'm addicted to being in trouble. It's become a game to figure out how many safety nets I can find to land in, or bounce out of.

What else?

I dunno, I guess that's all for now...oh, yes, one other thing - I'm supposed to be trying to write for ten minutes every day. Does this count? SURE it does. I don't know if this was ten minutes, but whatever. Something's better than nothing. At least in theory.

Sorry for wasting your time with the drivel.

My Review of Long Drop-Waist Knit Dress

Originally submitted at Chadwick's

Versatile day or evening option. Dropped waist, full sweeping skirt.

• Flattering fit-and-flare silhouette.
• Polyester/rayon/spandex; machine wash.
• Imported.

Misses 35” from natural waist

Long Drop-Waist Knit Dress

Comfy, elegant and easy

By Amy P. from Seattle, WA on 5/31/2008

 

4out of 5

Fit: Feels true to size

Waist: Feels true to size

Length: Feels true to length

Pros: Comfortable, Flattering, Attractive Design, Versatile

Best Uses: To School, On a Date, Comfort-Oriented, On The Weekend, Casual Work Days

Describe Yourself: Career, Bargain Shopper, Eclectic, Classic, Casual

I bought this dress in amethyst and the black. I think the fabric for the amethyst dress is a little lighter than the fabric for the black, and I was initially a little disappointed. But then I wore it on a hot day and found that it was a perfect weight for summer. It also looked very flattering on my overweight body, and made me feel very good about myself. I would recommend trying it, as others have said, with the caveat that you might have to return it if it's not quite what you're looking for.

(legalese)

My Review of 4-Piece Matte Jersey Wardrober

Originally submitted at Chadwick's

Versatility equals value, and this wardrober is rich with mix-and-match possibilities! Includes: Long sleeve V-neck cardigan, scoop neck tank with side slits, pull-on style pants with elastic waist and elastic waist A-line skirt. All in easy-care, easy-wear polyester matte jersey. Machine wash. Imp...

4-Piece Matte Jersey Wardrober

Poor quality fabric, uneven fit.

By Amy P. from Seattle, WA on 5/29/2008

 

1out of 5

Waist: Feels true to size

Sleeve Length: Feels too short

Chest Size: Feels too small

Pros: Durable

Cons: Chafes

Best Uses: Travel, Casual Wear, Office

Describe Yourself: Conservative, Comfort-oriented, Practical

The pants and skirt were a good fit, but the tank top and shirt were both too tight, and the fabric was a polyester that felt like sandpaper. Also, the fabric seemed uneven in weight, the tank top seemed heavier than the shirt fabric. I returned this item.

(legalese)

My New Sewing Machine

Soooo, I got a completely unexpected gift from my aunt on Mother's Day, a new sewing and embroidery machine. It's a pretty nifty machine, it has all kinds of bells and whistles like an automatic thread cutter, and automatic buttonholer (which so completely rocks!). It also does a pretty nifty overlock stitch, satin stitch, darning stitch, and monograms. It's generally a very cool machine and I'm happy to have it. You can check it out on Amazon here.

The sad thing is that I'm not really that excited to have a new sewing machine. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally grateful that she bought it for me...but it feels really selfish that I got this new think just for me. I keep thinking that for the same price as this machine, we could have gotten the kids a Nintendo Wii, and then more people than just me could have enjoyed it. I don't think I can send it back, because I do really, really want it, and because it was a gift. But there's guilt, definitely.

On the bright side, I guess that means I'm not a sociopath.

Paint Dancing

I want to go Paint Dancing next month. I keep making excuses not to go, and I know it's because I'm afraid to be uninhibited in public. But I don't know why I'm afraid to be uninhibited. Is it because I think I'll be embarrassed? Or because I might like it too much and lose my mind entirely? Could be both.

I do kind of feel like losing my mind, because I'm faced with moving again, and I really, really, really don't want to do it. Argh!

It's late and I'm supposed to be doing something else right now, so I will round this out tomorrow with the saga of the tooth. Which still hurts. Even though the dentist says there's nothing wrong with it.

My Toofis Hurts

So I've been avoiding having this tooth pulled forever, and now I know why. It hurt like the dickens (what does that mean anyway?) to get it out, and it hurts now. Oh and I have this big hole in my mouth that it will take six to eight weeks to go away, and in the mean time, I've got to rinse with saline after every meal to get the nasty food particles out.

Don't eat rice when you have your tooth pulled. It gets trapped in the hole and it's a pain in the ass to get out.