Time in a Bottle

I need to charge my Ipod.  Let’s not forget that.

I am knee-deep in proofing this directory and I’m taking a break to get things done since I am the girl who gets things done.  Unless I don’t believe in them or I find them tedious or obnoxious or wrong in form, and then and I shuffle them off to a little invisible file folder where everything fits and nothing emerges.  This is my clerical and, truly, my life system.

It’s getting to be crunch time.  I can’t forget the cell phone or the shuttle numbers or my friends’ numbers in case I get murdilated (emphasis on the murder and less on the dilated all you amateur rapist-slash-gynecologists wandering about in the Chicagoan hinterlands) fresh outta Midway.   Attempted murdilated.  Yes, I’m in one of those let’s try and be clever moods.

Um, today, was a huge rush.  There’s a political action issue on top of the current ones we have in the fire and it sort of pushed this project down the side so I’m sitting in my living room at 9:10pm typing up proof changes.

Oh! Bring the camera, kid, don’t forget that.  And the charger which is at work, so!  And make that credit card payment.  And get those checks in the mail and fall madly in love with someone age-appropriate and good for you.  And wash your hair so you can pin it up into these great demi-victory rolls that apparently make you into a faux-Forties, Russian Red-lipped goddess.   Uh, on a sliding scale, anyway.

I’m only really 25% done, if that, I need to get going but damn…I’m distracted.  Okay, let’s talk about my bad behavior.  If I have a really gormless grin on my face and a sarcastic tone, it’ll make it all super better and it’ll almost be like I had to do it just to make the vast hordes of the internet happy.  I can justify anything before you can snap your fingers, and with some of you more maladroit hordes, I can do it twice.  So I had eggs and bacon for breakfast at our early morning meeting when the sky was this heavenly, thick, laden with moisture, sort of obsidian.  You could see the layers in it.   The sun broke through as I drove and even though traffic was ridiculous and every bottle was necked, and I felt energy and goodness and I felt like I could do it.

Then I went through the day and had some soup for lunch that might have gone bad, so I just sipped at it to minimize any intestinal distress I had to come, and my hopes of working on my project were dashed and my heart was thrown into overdrive when I got a call about something I needed to do that I’ve forgotten for months and I left work in a ravenous blur.

Project, vacation, work, family, friends, it all seems like something to escape from.

I don’t mean that the way it seems, I just want to be in a state of mind that has no clock on it.  I want to be in a place that sticks, instead of these locations I find that shift ever westward, until I drop off the map.

So I had some cookies and Chipotle and I have this challenge to start and I could start if only everything else could stop.  Just stop!

 

 

How to Make Your Sweetheart Write More Often

Back to the grindstone.

I did get home, albeit to my parents’ house and was ready for bed a little before 2am.  Sigh.  These things do happen every once in a while and I guess that’s what separates the seasoned travellers from the newbies.

I’m listening to a new CD – A Brand New Hurt from Louden Swain.  Loving the stuffing out of it.   I think it’s all about…okay, so things are shitty, what are you doing about it?  As I listen to that, I’m also going with the viral videos and watching The Old Spice Guy’s videos on youtube in response to all the social media outlets they have.  It’s kind of fucking amazing how deft the comedy is and there’s like 9000 videos.  Gosh.

I’m a bit of a mess.  I had Chipotle.  I miss my friends and not being a desk jockey.  I suppose that despite all my intentions, there is a bit of a letdown, sure.  I think the exhaustion is kind of blurring it.  But what am I going to do about it?  Plan next year, keep writing, resting, cleaning, and we’ll get back there.  In the meantime, I’ll get back to making these entries properly and on time and with internet access readily available, they’ll be posted as they should.  Being a carb-eating, sad-faced jerk for another 3-10 days doesn’t do me much good.  Instead, I’m locating the horse, drinking water and putting my shit back together and trying to kill the whining.  Yesterday was such a nightmare, I don’t want that to bleed into right now.  I know a bath will help since the computer is cooking my wrists and I want to take a bath wildly and clean up.  First step kind of shit.

Okay.  Today, work.  I was dreading it and it was not so bad at all.  They didn’t grab my brain and bash it into a brick wall or anything.  Apparently, I was missed.  We went to lunch at the diner in the bowling alley.  It’s new.  I had a giant calzone which was good for it not having much garlic or seasoning.  It was probably bigger than my skull so I only ate half of it.  Victory at sea.

I want to see the friquaintance tomorrow.  Just for kicks.  It’s going to be another epic fucking disappointment, but darlings, I need a little joy.  I want to pretend a bit that there’s someone in this side of the country who has a little snark, someone who cares a little about me, and maybe is not a member of my family or you know, not a member of my family.  Like not.  We’ll see.  I’ll report, you decide.

The bathtub is calling me even more vociferously and my time is running short so I’m going to finish this up by saying.  All in all, the vacation was a lot of fun.

Today: no idea.  Tomorrow I’ll give you a status update on where the weight’s at and we’ll keep kickin’ it old-school low-carb.

Airborne Ranger

I had a 5:55 flight and it’s now 10:42est and we’re about 20 minutes into our 3 hour 30 minute flight.  Expect to be home around 11:45pm local time in Denver.  I feel like crying.  Don’t know how I’m going to get  home, to my house, I’ll have to call my sisters.  Weather’s delayed everything and we sat out on the runway for almost two hours.  I’m exhausted and a nervous, hungry wreck.  I figured I might as well get today’s 500 words done instead of blowing them off, despite the fact that I couldn’t post them anyway.  I don’t usually turn on my computer for a flight, but I was feeling so anxious and nervous and frustrated that I can’t get up to pee because for some reason I have a window seat and the people next to me are passed out, legs splayed, with no recognition that I’m trapped over here and have been for hours.
This was such a good trip I hate that this could ruin my memory of it.  I’m already fuzzy on what date it is, where I am  and I know I face work in the morning.  Dreading it at this point.  It feels like I’ve been gone for a month, it really does.  My friends were so wonderful and warm and fabulous and Anne’s dad was definitely a character, but he got me here at 3:00pm and it’s now 11 and I’m out of my head.
Sorry to be whining at you, but I’m feeling shitty and scared and there’s not a lot of options as far as how to deal with that right now along with the turbulence.
This is a zen lesson like the key that doesn’t quite fit my lock at home. Fighting it doesn’t make it go any faster.   I want very much to control this,  Fix it.  Somehow work around the facts of the situation.  But there’s no working around the weather and the delay and the turbulence.  If I can find some way to enjoy this, my last few minutes of freedom, that would be a miracle.  A very needed miracle.  I am used to having my travel plans just work.  Things just go smoothly and  this is the first time that it was like holy shit, I could be stranded here without my phone – because I’m a fucking genius and however long the battery holds on this and a dead Ipod.  I threw myself into coming home, I was ready to do it, but shit, it left me really unprepared – face not washed, wearing the last clean t-shirt – for this unexpected situation.
Somehow, I need to sleep.  I’m hoping to watch a video until the battery dies or something and keep myself calm.  This is the plan I have.  Not a great plan, but the plan nonetheless.  And pray that someone will be able to come pick me up and bring me home to my bed, my kitty, my room, my walls, my door, my lock, my quietude.
LOVE HARD // WORK HARD // HAVE FAITH // SAY NO // GROW SOME PARTS

Not Yet Dead

I have less than an hour to get this done.  I have no clue to produce an entry of approximately 500 words in under an hour that will cover everything that happened today in it.  So I have to manage it, so I will resort to that old cover – bulletpoints.

  • My dear friends became infinitely more dear.  It has been fantastic to be with them, snarking and hanging out and dancing and drinking and making plans to be ridiculous in the future.  It feels like a weight off my heart to know I can still do that.  Just like falling over a log or riding a bike.  Flove.
  • Friends – I want to always remember that World Cup game and watching it with my friend and a friend of a friend who turned out to be this amazing woman who was like the snarkiest Jewish mother you ever met who didn’t give a damn if Spain or the Netherlands won, just making commentary on the poor boys chasing after the ball.  I thought I would die laughing.  Weird and unexpected thing to be doing in the middle of the afternoon.
  • Doing shit that I didn’t necessarily intend to do: dancing until well past midnight.  Hugging minor celebrities.  Smiling wildly.  Eating more soft pretzels than is probably necessary.  Having a wonderful celebrity type person sign a CD for you with an acronym that had an undescended testicle and knowing that you’ll probably be the only one who gets the multiplicity of that experience forever and always.
  • Befriending everyone who wants to be befriended and spending our vitriol and smartmouth on everyone.  Cussing way more than is necessary and loving every goddamned motherfucking seconded of it.
  • Riding back to my friends’ house through the fading light of New Jersey into Pennsylvania listening to music and telling stories about what happened during the weekend – falling into McDonald’s and then falling back on the road.
  • Figuring out during that ride what I want to do with the poem for Khalil Gibran and Vera, Future Woman.  Feeling the whole of that keening connection and exactly how the frame could work.  So excited to work on that and finish Firmament.   To just work on my writing.
  • Definitely having this post-con let-down feeling, but I’m planning to fight through it and keep on doing more and harder.  I had the feeling I usually do throughout these things – that I can’t fling myself at people, I can’t request things, I can’t feel a connection really with these people as much as I adore seeing them talk.  The power balance is way off for me.   It makes me want to have work that I am proud of and invested in and that stands up and comes with me as a writer.  I want to feel wholly like a writer and that only comes from ass to the grindstone writing and work.  And whatever it takes to get there and get my head  around it, I’m going to do.  All the while working on the diet and getting my life in order.  Makes me want to get my life in order and next time, be a little more equal.

Ninja Turtle

So I may have sung a Britney Spears’ karaoke last night.  Hah.  And nobody died, that I know of and I got a hug from a minor celebrity.  More than anything I’m glad to have been able to support my friend and not leave her hanging when she really wanted to do it and didn’t want to go up there alone.

Sure, I was hanging on to the microphone for dear life and staring into the monitor like I was taking the SAT’s, but nobody DIED.  Kind of is a nice relief to realize that you can do one stupid thing for fun and it can just be…stupid and pointless and you don’t have to represent it for forever. Things can just happen to you.

Well, it’s morning now and I am not sure what this day will bring and my friends are still sleeping so I am trying to get this done ahead of time so that I can both have it complete if midnight sneaks up on me and also that it can clear my head and keep me on track today, inspired and giddy and just letting the weirdness (it’s a convention – there is ALWAYS weirdness here) and the fun wash over me.

Ninja Turtles is on tv.  Apparently, some version of it is still on the air and it probably always will be.  I think there’s something inherently WTF amazing about a walking, talking mutated turtle that likes pizza and saying DUDE before it kicks ass.

There’s rain and the day is starting out gray, but I don’t mind because vacation is nearly over and we’ll go back to the diurnal whining and whinging and excuses and fear (or not) and I want to soak up this stretching of the tether.  This celebration of me on my own, and nobody’s lapdog.  We’ve been talking about growing balls and sapphire orbs and it’s as amusing as hell but turning into somehow, something of a philosophy.  A short term philosophy which is really all I need.  Something to last the day.

Not sure what we’ll do for breakfast.  Something, I hope.

Gotta pop in the shower.  So…I’ll check back in later.

Shower.  Yes.  Done.  This is actually late although still accurate since we ran out of internet and no one wanted to spend 10 more bucks on it per computer – Jesus Christ.  So again, late post, so we’re back on the trail.

Breakfast was not so amazing.  But we’re back at the hotel and getting ready – my friends are delightful as fuck and warm and funny and sarcastic and scathing and they’re sort of like my own personal Mrs. Parker’s Vicious Circle.  I’m just letting my brain loose and taking the numbness and the giddiness as it comes and just following everyone around like a little puppy.

Watching celebrities handle five hundred writhing, aching, sex-starved audience members with aplomb and wit and not a little bit of Mrs. Parker’s wit and acerbity is kind of amazing. I plan to go and do more of that so…BYE?

Today:  HUM?

Frenetic

I love airports and though my usual rituals are off by not flying out of Denver, I’m calming down and just enjoying the people watching.  Trying to figure out if I should eat or not.  If I need a Starbucks or if that is going to just make my frenetic little head even more frenetic.  Sitting here and internet costs something like 5 bucks an hour and I’d really rather not spend it just so I can send some of these frenetic messages dancing around in my head out into the universe in real time.  Might as well be a little bit more introspective and spit it all out in an entry given that who the heck knows what tonight will bring.
I’m growing up, you guys.  I think I’m finally growing up and that it’s time for a little human reality.    But first, we have to endure the very surreality of convention and travel and being away from the comforts of home.  At my grandparents, I felt really numb…sort of like I was healing my brain from all of the usual grinding it endures.  My friend Nancy said I should use this trip to figure out what I want to do, but thus far the silence hasn’t gotten to that stage.  It’s been curative.  I am just an anonymous single girl sitting at an airport as I should be.  What I want – is to be a little less anonymous to someone.  To go on these adventures with someone and share the risk and my thoughts.  I’ll be working on that whilst getting myself back on low carb and focusing on finishing Firmament so that I can work on the novel and eventually, leave my job and be a full time writer.
That’s what I want in a nutshell:  I want to write for profit, find love, and get healthy.  I am entitled to try for all of it whether or not its in my destiny to have all three.  This is the war that we wage even when we’re sitting here, peacefully people watching and yawning in this quiet little concourse.  Letting ourselves stand up for what we believe.  My aunt stands up for what she believes and she has a life like what she wants.  She comes from a much more transitional experience than I do – with very religious, albeit very liberal parents in a very morally conservative hometown.  Things were the way they were and she had to fight to find her own way, in some cases, 180 degrees from what my grandparents believe.  For me, things are much less cut and dry.  The ways I want to change are much more subtle, the battleground bears much less fresh blood, and her experience of being a feminist and a woman is different.   I feel like my sex is equal to men, that the world has good in it, that we need to view people less in the light of what people do and more in the light of what they suffer (a quote I got somewhere), but the fight that I need to take up is one for me, myself, and I.  That I am not nothing, that I am not in danger if I screw up out loud or ask for what I want or say my beliefs aren’t currently as stringent in any direction as anyone demands.  That I would give up a lot to make people feel loved and comfortable.  That I have love and comfort to give.  That anything is possible when your heart is really open.  Really open to the possibilities in front of you and not just the ones in the pretty packages.
Minneapolis is a beautiful, green city.  I’m feeling okay, really.   Had some toast for breakfast.  Food could go really badly if I decided to get up from this very comfortable spot.  I’m thinking I’ll just leave it go and have some pop on the plane.
A woman’s talking on her cell phone in a wickery foreign language.
Everyone else is pretty quiet.   Even the occasional child that passes by seems relaxed and at ease.
Heading to Philly.

Interieur

Aaaaaaaaah.  We are back on schedule.  More or less.  If you go backwards for the past three days, you’ll find my current posts have been added back in.  Believe it or not, they were written on the days they’ve been submitted for  and I’m feeling pretty chuffed about being on track with all of this.

Whoo for another interjection, whoo, I am back in a world with internet after a long weekend at the farm.  We woke up this morning, me on the air mattress that I’ve been sleeping on in the living room, and sort of puttered around watching MSNBC and hearing all sorts of hideous tales about woodticks attacking and dumping lyme disease in unsuspecting sleepers.  Then, my grandmother, mother and aunt and I went the fifteen or so minutes to the Cornfield Cafe.  There, we got the kind of very good, very midwestern breakfast food that you could imagine would be served to you in a restaurant that shares space with a hardware store at the intersection of two highways.  This place is a long-time favorite of my grandparents and it’s only a matter of time that we end up there on any trip to Minnesota.  I had pancakes and hashbrowns.  Carbs.  Eh.  Sorry?

Then, once we went to a gift shop that all of us agreed had nice things, but nothing that any of us needed so terribly.  Then, we puttered around, admiring the string peas and the potatoes growing out in my grandfather’s garden.  Then, my aunt and I decided not to wait around another two hours for hotdish, much to my grandmother’s dismay.

I felt sort of sad and strange leaving my parents there.  Tomorrow’s the promised day of meeting relatives and hearing about all their health problems and talking about how good and well-behaved we absent children are.  I don’t envy my parents that at all.  Instead, I’m headed east to do whatever ridiculousness I plan to do without any particular reason behind it. It felt like I was going to leave them in the proverbial dust and I find that sad and strange and awkward, turning around to see them standing there on the porch completely unsure of me and my friends whom they’ve never met and my world of which they have no part.

Sigh.  But, you know, long car rides and a little candy have a tendency to get you over things like making sure you’re always cosseting your parents.  We went to another graveyard and saw a great-great-too far great to know how great grandmother’s gravestone that my aunt actually had repaired.  I don’t feel frightened or weird or too overwhelmed by the energy.  I just know they don’t want to screw with me and I don’t have any malicious intent and it is what it is.  Then we got lost, and then pizza and a margarita which was dang strong, and then bees my uncle keeps and a little cross-eyed kitten named Lorenzo.

I’m here, typing to you, on-time and online and blissfully (for the short time being) unaware of my weight.