Wedding Registration!

It's time for the registries! Only, Taum and I aren't sure what exactly we want or need yet. We've created one for Amazon already, but it doesn't have anything in it...yet. This is the fun part, right? Right?

Anyway, the things that keep coming up are fairly big items. We want a nice honeymoon, but at this rate we might not be able to afford it. I need a new computer. We need a new bed. And I know we probably need other things that are fairly large and expensive as well -- too large for me to think anyone would want to/be able to buy the whole thing. And knowing what we specifically need requires research we haven't done yet. So I have created a ChipIn fund, so that anyone who might want to contribute five dollars towards our future life together may do so fairly easily. I think this thing records the contributors as well, so we should be able to thank you properly for care. ;)



Also, remember you can find our slowly evolving wedding website with all the important information at http://www.ewedding.com/taumandsammy

*HUGS* Hope to see you soon!

Life Update: The Move

So it’s been awhile since I posted any updates, and I’ve promised them to some people, so here they are.

To recap for anyone (really?) who doesn’t know by now….

I have met a wonderful man named Taum through the magic of family and online Dungeons and Dragons. After many months, late night talks and plane tickets I have agreed to marry him (seeing as how any other answer would have been utterly insane). To this end I have flung myself into the unknown, uprooting myself and leaving behind my much loved family and communities to make a new start in Colorado.

So here is the digest:
A few week’s before I moved, Taum, his mother and my mother descended upon my little upstairs apartment and stuffed it into boxes. This was an enormous help – I don’t think I could have managed it on my own, even if I did end up bring things that I hadn’t intended to or packed things in a less orderly fashion than initially desired. Then they all went home I proceeded to do almost nothing between then and crunch time for the move. Many thanks again to those people who took my stuff away for me. I feel better knowing it is being used and loved by people I care about and want to support!

Moving day was October 1st, and I had an unbeatable crew of helpers. My undying gratitude to my parents Nate and Gail, my uncle Guy, my cousin Willow and her partner Jon, and my dear friends Julie and Kirsten. After some difficulty with truck rental (my debit card had a limit on it, and then we couldn’t use that card again so Nathan had to help) my army pounced upon my unsuspecting storage unit. All the things it took so long to put in there, that had been sitting there for years…in the truck in less than an hour. Then they descended upon what was left in my apartment.

Mommy and Kirsten and I had to make a stop to drop off some give-away items and then fill up the truck, so by the time I got back my busy worker ants had already begun packing my apartment. Which was great…but came with a few unintended and entertaining consequences. It took rather longer (since I could not supervise the doings of that many people all at once), but I did not have to carry really anything down the stairs. Again, seriously, undying gratitude! I wish I could have given you guys more for your time and effort.

We eventually rolled out at three in the afternoon, my mom and me and my very VERY unhappy cat. Orpheus does NOT like travel. He spent most of the time hiding behind the seats as far into a corner and as unreachable as he could possibly get. He kept his eyes shut and his nose buried so he couldn’t see the alarming things around him. They say animals become like their owners…that’s an uncomfortable observation!

We spent most of the trip singing and talking. The first day we drove late into the night, then parked at a truck stop to sleep. My mom stayed up front while Orpheus and I bedded down in the back on some memory foam. It would have been fine but it got very cold and we had to keep starting up the truck for the heat. Also, there was a lot of noise from the trucks around us, and it kept scaring Orpheus. He was just starting to settle down and explore the back of the truck when someone asked mommy to move our truck. That did it – Orpheus stayed terrified, refusing to eat, drink, or potty. Eventually we decided more sleep was not going to happen and we drove on just to keep warm.

The next day we tried to tempt Orpheus with tuna. He seemed weak and disoriented, he was cold and his breath smelled terrible. He wouldn’t have anything to do with food though, so we forced water and a little tuna juice down him instead. He perked up a little after that. We took our time that day, pausing to sit at a rest-stop to eat lunch, put our bare toes in the grass and attempt to get Orpheus to lighten up. I think being on a surface that didn’t move helped, but he was still an unhappy kitty. Watering him may or may not have been a mistake. He was so tight tailed we didn’t think he’d use the litter box, so we hadn’t brought it into the cab. That night he made a distressed sort of meow and…peed all over the cab. There was nothing we could do except pull over and try to mop it up. WOW! It wasn’t too bad at first, but man does that stuff start to stink. And it just seems to get worse the longer it sits!

That night there was no sleeping in the cab. We had to keep the windows cracked in order to be able to breathe. We were exhausted and dirty, and we kept missing the rest stops. So I made the executive decision to rent a room for the night. We smuggled Orpheus in for part of the night in the hopes that he might relax and eat something. I’m not sure if he did or not, but he started meowing so loudly in the middle of the night that we had to exile him to the cab of the truck again. Poor baby.

We slept well, ate, and got really clean – my favorite part – then set off again bright and early. I have never been to Kansas before. My apologies to those of you who like it but….seriously nothing but miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles of nothing! Kansas is FLAT. And empty. It would have been pretty with the open spaces, solitary trees surrounded by empty turf, and patches of some sort of red crop, but the sky was an unrelieved shade of dirty brown pollution. There were hawks sitting on fence posts every few miles though, so that was pretty cool. I kept expecting to see the Rockies at any point – surely with so much unrelieved flatness their towering peaks should have visible for miles around! But apparently the land by way of Kansas slopes up gently but inexorably. We were practically seeing signs for Colorado Springs before saw any hint of the mountains! I couldn’t believe how little civilization we saw before we actually exited the highway for Denver.

Taum and his mom met us and the four of us unloaded the truck two dolly-fulls at a time and trekked them up the elevator. SO MANY BOXES! We were all wiped after that – the order of the evening was food and bed.

Mommy stayed to help me unpack that week – she was really helpful! We got a ton of things taken care of straight off. Orpheus took the move pretty hard at first – he still likes to hide under the bed most of the day. The second or third night I was here he made his displeasure at this unprecedented life-interruption known by peeing on me while I slept. Gotta tell you, there are few more unpleasant things to wake up to. Taum helped me handle it quickly and efficiently however, and Orpheus was banished from the bedroom for awhile.

And that is most of the story of my moving in. I still have several boxes of books and many, MANY file binders to unpack and organize. I have to put up my alter, my desk situation needs assistance, and there are some pictures that need hanging. Taum has been exceptionally gracious in allowing me to utterly rearrange his house from kitchen cabinets to the dresser drawers. In return I, yes I!, made dinner for the two of us all last week. Trying to take advantage of this real kitchen concept. Also trying not to allow myself to become a shut in. But it’s really helping my transition to be able to arrange everything here to my liking. Seeing our things all blended together makes me smile. Orpheus seems to be settling in at last, sleeping with us and allowing Taum to pet him, so that is good – though I think he misses being able to roam outside.

I miss everyone in North Carolina, but I am so grateful to be here. Forgive me for the lack of communication, everyone. I am still in stress-recovery mode, and by now you know how hermit-like I get when I’ve been under strain. Happy Halloween! Wish I could be there with you for it. Light a candle and eat a piece of chocolate for me, won’t you?

Maui rundown coming…sometime.

Reflections on the Nature of Karma

So this evening I was speaking with Julie as she was taking me home, and we got to talking about past lives and nasty things we've done in the past to people we know and love in our present. Naturally that moved the conversation into the discussion of karmic debt, and how such wrongs are repaid. Me being me, I had to follow that rabbit trail as far as I could.

So it seems to me that suffering is the lowest form of reparation one can make. The idea in karma is that when you wrong someone, you are wronged in turn, in this life or the next. This strikes me as rather an inefficient goad. First of all, in order for a punishment to be truly effective, the recipient must know what they are being punished FOR. Unless you are into exploring your past lives (an activity which is entertaining and often enlightening, but in no way necessary to self-growth), you will like as not have no idea why you have such a bum deal in this one. Also, if you murder someone in a past life, and they turn around and murder you, this does not redress the wrong. It perpetuates a cycle of pain between the two until one or the other chooses to end it by NOT participating.

Supposing then that karma is not so much a rule imposed upon us to govern us and teach us to act rightly, but a rule we cleave to on a subtle level? It is common throughout any culture I can think of (and if you know of one not like this then please enlighten me) that a criminal is punished and made to suffer in some fashion, as if this will redress the wrong they have done. But it does not. Someone else's pain cannot and will not alleviate my own, though in some vengeful mood I may believe it does. But such blood-thirst does me harm as well, and in extreme cases may make me no better than the one who wronged me. What, then, is the purpose of suffering?

It is, of course, the very lowest form of rule. The wrong-doer supposedly does not repeat the offense because they are afraid to suffer the punishment. Likewise an individual who contemplates a crime may turn away from it because they fear the discomfort the consequences may bring them. Suffering, then, is a bludgeon. Which in turn makes the idea of suffering injury or disease, poverty or death in this life for the sins of the past absolutely ludicrous. You are not doing the right thing because of punishment, you are attempting to avoid doing the wrong thing -- something entirely different. You do the right thing because it is the right thing to do, as a friend of mine likes to quote. People who are acting for the good are doing so because they choose to regardless of the short-term personal consequences. It may be for the sake of reward, certainly, but to do so in order to avoid pain is a forced action relying on the instinct to preserve one's self, not a true decision to act in a positive fashion.

Where, then, does that leave the concept of a Cosmic Law of Karma? I am not inclined to say it does not appear to exist, because I have felt its effects both good and bad, and have seen it in action on numerous occasions. Yet, I believe our concept of it is faulty, or at least over-simplified. Karma is not a hard and fast rule. I put forth the idea that karma is merely a manifest aspect of the Law of Attraction. Master San Gee Tam says "What you practice, you become." So if you practice doing evil by doing selfish, negative things or even by interacting with your environment with such a mindset, you become an evil-doer. The Law of Attraction states that we draw to us that with which we resonate -- that which we are, and think about, and do. Therefore the thief will suffer loss, even if that is not readily apparent. For what we do each moment affects the state of our soul, our total being and its health in ways both minute and major. Even if the result is not readily apparent, we carry the resonance over into our next life, again and again and again.Even if the result is not readily apparent, we carry the resonance over into our next life, again and again and again. Even if you do not believe in the idea of past lives, or karma, or the Law of Attraction, you can still see how the perspective you develop through negative or positive action -- your own personal common sense, as it were -- may warp and distort how you experience the world around you and what you choose to surround yourself with.

So even if someone has done terrible terrible things in the past, their karma lies in their own hands. Perhaps suffering will be inflicted upon them, and some may pause to consider it and come to the realization that their own infliction of suffering on others was wrong. Therefore they may set out to correct their ways. However, mere suffering itself will not redress the wrong. It is only when we decide to act out of kindness and compassion and wisdom regardless of the apparent immediate consequences to ourselves that we begin to rise above the cycle of pain and truly render up payment for whatever sins we may have committed.

Therefore the act of suffering is largely useless, for we may at any time decide to begin acting rightly. To continue suffering after this point serves no purpose. Pain may be an excellent teacher, but he is a teacher of the last extreme. So when I find myself to be experiencing discomfort I must ask myself the cause. And having identified the source, I must then discern what positive action I might take instead. If I then feel I do not want to follow through with this right action, I must then identify the resistance.

Because otherwise I am choosing to suffer, and no one is responsible for that but me.

Too Much of a Good Thing?

Okay, I'm suffering some overwhelm here. The problem is, it's all good things. But they're good things I have responsibility for...and I may have bitten off just a little more than I can chew.

It seemed perfectly reasonable, at first. And then there was another thing. And another thing. And just one more little thing...and all I will have help with. But all take time, and energy, and prep-work. What the HELL did I just do to myself?

Maybe I'm just feeling bad because I'm tired and still in shock and pain from getting six teeth pulled at once. Maybe I just need some extra vitamin B today. But I'm not sure how sociable I can be, and I'm afraid I'm going to start snapping at people who completely don't deserve it. To break it down, this is what thing look like between October and February.

October:
Ritual planning for Samhain
Scribe's Painting Party
Taum's visit
Tea tasting
(not so bad, right?)

November:
Bunch of birthdays
Six tooth dental visit
Tea tasting
Allegra's painting party
Leading a workshop
Yule planning for Path
Week long Thanksgiving trip to see Taum

December:
Ten day trip to Cali
Yule with Path
Scribe's Christmas Party
Christmas trip to Franklin
Being Adryn's minion

January:
Being Adryn's minion
Next dentist app.
Work catchup

February:
Tea tasting
Trip to see Taum (hopefully)


Nothing individually, or even in small sections, is too much. But too many of these things are happening one right after the other, involving weeks out of my life not merely hours. Somewhere in there I am balancing two D&D games a week, Writing Club, helping organize Path of the Moon, working, buying Christmas presents with non-existent money for more people and people I don't know as well as I should, getting a passport and money to go to Japan, and oh yes, WRITING.

I love all of these things. I WANT to do all of these things. I am in heaven being of help to so many people, being a part of so many diverse communities. But I'm wondering if I need to start saying "no" again. Or just learn to keep my mouth shut. Or something. Because I'm exhausted already, and it's barely mid-November. If things keep happening like they have been, January and February are going to fill up too.

And I can't shake the feeling that I'm whining about nothing. I know busy people. Do I really count as a busy people? So much of this is fun stuff, and my house is a wreck because I'm too tired and burned out even to sleep. How can I even begin to manage my energy here, to do any real recharging in the midst of this chaos?

And the repeating message in the back of my head is "All I want is to be with the man I love right now; to lock the doors and close the blinds and tell the rest of the world to go to hell for the next two weeks."

Highly impractical. Maybe some intensive visualization? The body and mind don't really know the difference between strongly imagined things and reality. Or maybe I just need to Ho'oponopono the holy hell out of feeling overwhelmed.

But I'm too tired.

Whine. Complain.

Bah.

Someone with real problems should slap some sense into me, bitching about having too much awesome on my plate.

One Birthday Wish

A Long Time Gone

Wow, a lot a lot a lot has happened. Dunno if anyone reads this anymore, I do most of my updates on facebook. Maybe I'll synchronize the two, that could work.

So here's the scoop:

I'm a lot healthier in every way these days.

Raymond and I are still friends, though not as close as we used to be. He's enjoying his busy life and I, mine. Still doing a lot of healing work there -- I'm always surprised at what comes up. But I suppose you can't live with someone for seven years or so and NOT take stuff away, good or bad.

I'm a solid part of many different communities now. It's cool, and weird, and a little exhausting, but since I got rid of that guilt programming it's been a lot easier to communicate with people. I don't burn out nearly so easily now, and I mind my resources better.

Biggest news of all: I'm in love again. Amazing, fantastic, BRILLIANT love, like nothing I have ever experienced. So far it's exactly like a relationship is supposed to be: warm, supportive, passionate....comfortable. More than that. It's as if I am more easy in my skin with him than at any other time. And he's helping me heal so much, so quickly! The sheer blessing of his presence in my life (even though he lives in a totally different time zone) simply overwhelms me every day.

Life is better and better and better and better every second. There are still downs -- I have had a few of them recently -- but in some ways they hardly touch me, and almost never linger long. There is too much love and peace and joy in my life, now.

Thank you, Universe!

Back on solid ground, sort of.

Quick note here.

A lot has happened in the last...almost two months. I turn twenty-seven at the end of the week. I have made some personal vows to break certain patterns and make new ones. My head still whirls...everything has happened so quickly.

Raymond and I are officially a done item. It was done badly, and I handled it worse. Things have been really rocky, but we're attempting to be friends now and handle one another gently. I'm still really sad that it didn't work, a part of me is still whimpering about the loss of him. And of course, I've never been on my own before. Being alone is WEIRD. But I have a lot of friends, and a wonderful family, and so many activities that I very rarely actually spend a whole day without seeing anyone. And it's impossible to go a whole day without TALKING to somebody. So that's helping keep me sane.

He's still struggling to find work, but very excited about going back to school for writing and photography. I'm trying to find my first job ever...sort of. I'm still settling into this new life of mine, and jobs are scary. Some part of me goes "let's just wait a little longer. We're not in trouble yet". Bad planning, I know. But every day I inch closer to success.

I'm trying to do the NaNoWriMo this month, but haven't written a word yet. Have to get on that. Have to pay bills. Have to get my cell phone charger back! I'm doing a podcast with some friends, and it will totally rock when it gets posted. I have a lot of good things in my life, and people that I haven't spoken to in forever are coming out of the woodwork. It's hard to keep up with them, but I'm trying.

That's enough said for now, I'll try to make a more complete update soon.

My own, personal pergatory.....

Quick update in case anyone is interested.

Tomorrow is my freaking anniversary. Eight years ago Raymond and I sat over pizza on his first visit to me in college. We were making long range plans, and he says to me "So I guess we're getting married, huh?" And I said to him, "Yep. Took you this long to figure it out?"

And now this.

Today he began moving things into his new apartment. He told me he wants to move the dresser tomorrow. He did not ask me if I would pretty please remove my clothes and jewelry from it. He did not tell me when he intended to do this. He did not add "I'll put the other dresser in the bedroom so you can transfer your stuff". He did not inform me prior to this evening that he intended for his relatives to stay the night...and sleep on the floor.

It is not the events themselves that hurt so much as the lack of communication. That he does not care even enough to keep me in the loop. Granted, it may be a lack of understanding that even a roommate deserves that much knowledge rather than a lack of feeling but...it hurts. To mark the real, official movement of him from OUR space to HIS space on the very day eight years ago that he so casually echoed my assumption that we would be life-long partners....you know, I don't think he even realizes what day it is.

He got the job as an event photographer. It's part-time, un-reliable work for sucky pay, but it's income. He's working for Archie a little too, and has an interview for a full-time programming job. Already. Today, I got back my first honest-to-goodness rejection notice. Lucky me.

I don't know how I feel anymore. I want to be strong, independent, successful....and I want to hide under the covers, or throw myself at his ankles and beg him to stay. I want to chain him to me and throw away the key....and I want him to please just go away. I don't want to leave my home and family life behind....but I'm looking forward to being my own woman, beholden to no one in my own environment but me.

See? I am a healthy, independent, successful young woman. PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!

Fuck.

Life (or lack thereof) Update

So yes, it does in fact seem to be happening. I still don't know if it's permanent, but I'm getting the message loud and clear that Raymond and I need to be apart for awhile, and that I am not going to be allowed by the Universe in general to remain attached to my house.

So, I have a boarder situation lined up for me, while Raymond and a mutual friend look for an apartment together. I'm more than actively looking for a job, I've even turned in a resume. It's hard and scary as hell, but not as hard and scary as looking at my house and thinking "What can I take with me? What will have to go into storage? Who gets to keep that lamp?" Everytime I start to think about it, I want to cry.

But that's not doing me any good. I'm trying to eat every day (I haven't done that yet, but I will). I'm popping vitamin B like candy and wearing hematite and rose quartz in an attempt to stay grounded and on an even keel. They say what does not kill you makes you stronger. It's been two weeks now and I haven't died, so I guess I'm stuck here. If I can't die of a broken heart and I'm too much of a coward to do it any other way, then I'd better make the best of life. I don't know if this will make me stronger, but it will make me much more careful. Once bitten, twice shy as they say.

I feel as if I am sort of living on platitudes and cliches right now, but they're common because they MEAN something, so it's okay. I'm so tired, and angry, and depressed, I just want to crawl into a hole and pull my daydreams in after me. But I don't have that option. I'm losing my house, my husband, and a huge chunk of my entire world. I made the mistake of tying my faith into a human being, and like any human being, he is prone to mistakes. He is leaving me, which is not smart of him, but maybe necessary anyway. It will be a hard road to recovery, if we ever make it that far. One thing is for certain -- I will never be addicted to anything again. I thought I wasn't, but I was addicted to him. When you get addicted to anything, it leaves you vulnerable. If someone can take it from you and render you totally debilitated, then you are too dependent on it. Never again.

Now comes the painful process of rediscovering myself as an individual. I've spend almost a third of my life attached to this other human being, utterly consumed in couplism. And now he is leaving me, abandoning me to save himself. Can I ever trust him again? I don't know. I don't have any control over him, a frightening process for a control nut like me. It's like someone took the central pillar of my existence away, without regard for whether the structure will collapse on my head.

But it isn't, not completely. I have a lot of friends and family giving me a lot of support. That means more to me than I can possibly say. The lot of you are keeping me alive, afloat, and half-sane. I would be utterly lost without you, thank you so very, very much. Your compassion and affection are the best things I could have received in my hour of need.

So now, I will learn some independence. I was already learning it, but now I get the crash course. I will spend some time in a boarder situation. I will get a job and pay off my debts hand over fist. I will find my own place in time. Maybe I will find it with Raymond, maybe not. I will make enough to really live, to put money aside for the birth of children, for their college funds, for family vacations and braces and new bicycles...whether or not Raymond is in the picture. I can't say I will one day love again. I can't feel that far ahead. I want Raymond back, and I want him right now. Failing that I'm willing to work on being a strong, independent, healthy, wealthy woman while I wait for him to figure himself out. Then we'll talk.

Things that should never have happened to me

NOTE: Facts are true, but interpretation is heavily shaded by frustration. It only FEELS like this.

1. Other-half says "I'm broken, and need space to fix myself. I don't know if we'll be compatible when I'm done."
2. Other-half loses job. No money means no car, no house, no life.
3. Other-half says "Well, now we HAVE to reset. Let's put everything in storage and develop separate living arrangements. We'll send the cats off to my mom (note: see previous post), who will pay for that photography class together. We'll just trade the car in for a junker. By the way, I know I'm still broken, but I think YOU need professional help. Have patience with me and maybe I'll change my mind tomorrow."


Seriously?! I mean, WHAT THE FUCK, Universe?!

Bite me.

Walking Stereotype

I really, really, REALLY hate my mother-in-law. Seriously.

This makes me a walking stereotype, and I blame her for that too. My husband is sick right now, and all she can do is diagnose him as developing pneumonia despite having next to no details, and then hang up on me when I refuse to wake him to talk to her and tell her the voice she is hearing in the background is MY mother.

I am seldom murderous. This is one of those times.

That is all.

Everything's Fine

In case anyone else was worried about my last post, it just looked like my blog had disappeared. I figured this was a preliminary to deciding I didn't exist anymore from the blogspot point of view, so I posted something to see if it made everything come back. It did, and I didn't think anything of it, not expecting that anyone would notice after such a long absence. Sorry if I confused you.

So much has happened since my last blog post that I'm not even going to bother with it here.

Current state of affairs:

I'm taking Trig and Physics (UGH)
I'm playing D&D once a week (YAY!)
I have very little time for myself (UGH)
Most of the things I'm doing are things I adore (YAY!)

Extra benefit for the week: My uncle is coming to visit, and I will have him for a whole weekend, all to myself (more or less). That is very exciting.

The stress monster and I are constant companions for now, and I'm fairly sure most of my friends will soon be sick of my constant crankiness. Fortunately for me I have super awesome friends who won't hold it against me. Nutella helps a great deal -- I should coat vitamin Bs with it.

I have a met a lovely young lady who writes, draws, sings, meows, and will cuddle with perfect strangers given the invitation. She's one of the most adorable people I have ever seen. I do hope she's a lasting acquaintance, and not one of those people who flit in and out of my life faster than I can blink. I could use another pereson willing to purr and cuddle with me on this side of the sea.

Tonight is Open Mic and Bytes and Beans. I hope we will have a reasonable turnout. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

?

Where did everything go?

Bad News

My breadwinner lost his job, and the money will run out shortly. He hasn't had any new interviews this week. I'm coming down sick with one thing after another. I made a 63 on my last math test. I've hit the seven year itch and my relationship is on the rocks. My friend and right-hand get-it-done woman is leaving in just a couple of weeks. I'm grumpy, angry, guilty, depressed, bitter, and generally uncomfortable in my own skin. I think my mother-in-law may be coming to visit soon and the house (mostly my office) is still a wreck.

Life could be worse.

Details

Detail One: Yesterday was the first day we officially had a new home. The first article moved into our new house? The sharp pointy collection, of course! We'll be moving like madpeople today I think, and we're having a moving party the following Saturday. Hopefully that will get ALL of the big stuff and most of the little too. This is going to be complicated by how much Raymond has to be out of town though. Between work and family it's going to be tight. Don't worry, I won't try to move anything but cleaning supplies back and and forth across the street on my own. I'm very excited. I need to take pictures of the few damages to the house today before we do anything else though. Just to make sure everything is square at the end, whenever that may be.

Detail Two: D&D should not be stressful. But apparently it is when you have an unstable DM who wants everything to go exactly the way he envisioned but can't seem to own up to that, and is fundamentally incapable of politeness. That's the way this seems anyway. He's been very rude, and if he didn't have two hundred dollars worth of Rifts books that belong to us right now, we would drop him entirely. As it is we will have to pull a fast one to get our books back without conflict. Grr. We'll form our own group with Raymond as DM, everyone should like that a lot.

Detail Three: In my quest for deep and rapid relaxation this week between the hecticness of school and moving, I have finished five books this week. They are: the eleventh book of the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan, Storm Front the first of the Dresden series by Jim Butcher (it's fantabulous), and the first three books of the Twilight series (Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse) by young adult author Stephenie Meyer. I recommend them all highly, particularly the Twilight books. The fourth book came out today, and there will be a movie. Also, my adopted Uncle Vaz apparently wrote a book about the making of the movie already. How about that?

Okay, so I'm off to go move, and finish planning a coup. Unfortunately, no reading material until Wednesday. Guess I'll just have to write something.

P.S. If you have not seen it yet, go to Hulu.com and do a search for Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. Written and directed by Joss Wheadon, who did Buffy and Firefly, it is forty-five minutes or so of funny, slightly ridiculous, and highly poignant musical. Three Acts. Watch them now.

Crash

So, you know how you hit a stretch of good luck, and at first you're kind of suspicious of it because it looks too perfect? And then you stop being suspicious and just enjoy it for awhile, but in the back of your head maybe you wonder when the other shoe will drop? And then you hit that end of the good luck, abrupt or tapered and part of your brain goes "Damn, why did I fall for that? I knew it was too good to last long"? But of course, by the time that hits you, you've settled into a new routine that doesn't include the old defensive posture....

I suppose in the scheme of things I'm not that bad off. I've still got a new car. I'm still moving into a new house. But I've been feeling something looming, pressing down on me the last two weeks, making me want to bite everything in sight in spite of my good fortune, and I suppose I should have taken that as a warning.

I mean, I knew that things were going to be tight. However well you budget anything, little things are going to bite you in the behind with glee and force. There are bills mounting up in my brain, some of which we didn't need to incur, that will need paying soon, but we in all likely hood are not going to be able to pay them off in a timely fashion. I learned last night a number of banks have crashed and there was a closed session in the government the other day where they discussed the imminent threat of an economic crash of the U.S. I am disabled and a student and depend on a stable government for money, which will go away in the event of such a colossal disaster. Raymond wants to pull all but the money necessary out of our bank accounts so that we don't run the risk of losing it, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I am dead-level certain that not only will cash not collect interest, it is more likely to be spent than if it is sitting in a savings account. And besides all of that....if such a thing happens then we won't be able to depend on the infrastructure of the city, various utilities, the availability of food or gas or a thousand other things. In an economic crash, programmers are not in high demand, so it's possible Raymond might lose his lovely new job as well. That means we'll have NO money coming into the house....and we simply cannot afford that now. The only good things I can think of out of this (and they are lighter gray patches in a sea of black) is that I might not have to pay back those debts I owe if we have an economic reset.

Of course I feel like a complete wacko considering the collapse of our economy. That's a conspiracy theorist topic, isn't it? Except that one of the nation's biggest banks went under the other day, and there have been something like thirty smaller that have folded recently as well. The FDIC can't take care of them all. But in the event that such craziness doesn't happen for whatever reason, then I'm going to be left feeling like an idiot with a bunch of survival supplies on my hands and not the money I spent on them.

Even without economic disaster things are still going to be tight. I'm fairly certain we aren't going to be able to pay off either credit card or computers before they begin accruing interest, although we may manage the washer and dryer at least. Those bills are going to eat us alive, and the only thing we can hope for is a bonus to Raymond's paycheck, or at least to have his expenses come in.

Let's add to all this one best friend who is ill and in economic travail, whom I would like to rescue but can't because all of my assets are tied up in other things. I'm not as bad off as she is, so I feel guilty not only for not rescuing her, but for not being able to do it even though I can afford food more readily. Another best friend is heading for Japan tomorrow, and I wasn't able to see her one last time. I just hope she answers her phone today. Still another friend is leaving for Washington State in December, a woman who has been a steady rock in my life for almost the last year or so. I'm headed into a rough period of my life and I'm losing the two calmest people in my life, the people who have acted like harbors in a storm for me. I'm not sure how badly I'll scare off anyone else, and I know for a fact that too many of my friends depend on me for a similar service, or at least have too much drama in their own lives to cope with mine too. It is not in me to wish them anything but the greatest possible joy in their futures, but I seriously resent the circumstances that have led me here. Or something. I need to resent something.

And then there are the little things. I HAVE to get the litmag done. School ends in a week and I HAVE to get that work done. Moving has snuck up on me and I'm not ready for it yet, my house isn't ready for it yet.... Will I or won't I get a chance to see my grandparents in a couple of weeks? It depends on whether I can get a ride. Whether I can get a ride depends on how successful another of my friends is with his new business venture. If he is VERY successful, he won't be able to take me, but I can't possibly hope he WON'T succeed. I have too much to do, and not enough time to do it in. There are too many circumstances I don't have any control over, and the ones I do I don't really see anyway not to mess them up. Moreover, I'm back to wanting to hide in the back or my closet or under my bed and tell everyone and everything to go to hell. I don't even necessarily have my health. I desperately need to visit a dentist, but don't have the time for that. Of course, if things crash magnificently in the next few months, I might never get a chance to go see one, so I should probably MAKE time to have my jaw drilled into painfully. I'm solid knots from the base of my skull to the tips of my toes and can't seem to get anything to relax. All of my ligaments have tightened down to screaming levels over the last few months. My hip aches almost every day now no matter what I do, I might just have to start living on painkillers -- if they'll work.

I resent practically everyone and everything right now for various reasons, and want desperately to have a target on which to settle the blame for all of this.

And in the midst of this I am aware that my situation is still pretty good, comparatively, so I have that little annoying voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm whining, I don't really have anything to complain about, and I should just get over myself and do the things I need to do. Thanks so very much, little voice.

I'd better go take some vitamin B. And eat something. At least that will give me something legitimate to bite.

New Job, New Car, New House, New Stratum of Society

So I mentioned we were going to go looking at a house to rent in my last entry. Here it is, and yes, we go to sign the paperwork tomorrow for moving. Our lease with our current apartment runs through August, and we have given them their outrageous sixty days notice. SIXTY days? Seriously? It's the new management. We're probably not going to get our security deposit back, having been here for four years of wear and tear. But we'll still be more than fine, I think.

So, nice house right? It's right across the street from grocery store, so I can get food while Raymond is away. The whole area is fenced in and densely vegetated, with a natural pond nearby full of fish. The backyard has a deck with a retaining wall, and it is very, very private. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, with a decently sized laundry room and a walk-in closet almsot the size of our guestroom. It will, quite simply, fit us perfectly.

But wait, what is that parked in front of the two car garage? That, my friends, is Eve, our very own 2007 Mustang convertible. She's lovely and a sheer joy to drive, and still has most of her manufacturer's warranty. The buying of this car has apparently increased our credit substantially. Eve has only two drawbacks for me: she can only take two passenger's in the backseat, and the front passenger seat was never designed for passengers my shape and size. I don't know who it was designed for, but I'm going to have to figure out some sort of cushion system that works or cripple myself riding in it. The driver's seat has all manner of bells and whistles for adjustment, and so does not have that problem.

For the first time in my adult life I am above the poverty line, and it feels wonderful. The simple fact that I can buy a book (a new book!) when I want one feels jawdroppingly amazing to me after so long hating to window-shop because I could never afford anything I looked at. It's like stretching after spending a lot of time inside a very small box. And who is responsible for this wonderful change of events in my life? That would be Raymond, pictured on the right, hard at work at his new job after earning his well-deserved degree in a subject he loves. In January we began not only a new year, but a new life. I'm very excited to see what comes next, and quite determined not to make a hash of it. Wish me luck!

Amazing New Things

There have been some amazing things happening lately. I went to Raleigh to compete in the NCSBDC, and my schoolmates looked out for me. I said I wanted to go on the architecture trip to DC, and the money magically appeared. My classmates invited me to go to Virgina Beach with them afterwards, and I went. I received a scholarship that made a lot of things possible for me. Raymond's new job made it possible for me to go to Animazement this year, my first Con ever. Raymond himself graduated, and he alternates between working at home and going to Raleigh for a week at a time, where the company puts him up in a nice hotel and he is vastly appreciated by his coworkers. We've actually begun to be able to pay off our accumulated debts to family and cards, and set aside money for rainy days. I can buy a book now, and not have to agonize over every penny. (I still try to buy them used though. *shrugs*)

Much of that extra money has been sucked up, of course, by all the things we needed but were doing without, or by the things that suddenly broke into a million pieces as soon as we could afford to replace or fix them. The fish of gobbled down a great deal of it. Nevertheless, there was enough to spare, provided we are thoughtful about our expenditures large and small, that when the van began to die at stoplights and on the highway, we were able to decide that we had had enough. That's right, as of today, you are reading the blog of a person who has sold her soul for a 2007 Mustang convertible. Yes, it has a leather interior. Her name is Eve, and she is one sweet ride, with less than 8,000 miles on her. Payments are steep, but not as steep as they could have been. We crunched the numbers and even with our debts we can afford her, especially since we can expect Raymond to begin accruing raises after a year at least.

But wait, there's more! Raymond got a good chunk of change back from his company expense account. Not all of it, but enough to be happy making. And then yesterday, right down the road from us, a three bedroom house in a forested, fenced in lot directly next to a supermarket came up. It is adorable, very nearly perfect. We are looking at it today, because our lease is up in August at the apartments, and we really want a house. This one happens to be in our price range.

I tend not to believe in coincidences. Thank you, Universe, for the helping hand up the ladder. I surely do appreciate it.

Flowering of the Rose (or the Thistle)

It is raining outside. But I am okay with that, because it's a lovely, gentle, spring rain. It is officially spring-like outside, with the light, intermittent little droplets wetting the ground just enough to mingle the smell of warm damp pavement with the powdery scent of ornamental pear trees in full bloom. There is a brisk little breeze, gusting in a game attempt to become a full-blown wind, but though the blossom laden branches jitter and bounce, the tiny white petals still cling to tightly to their centers to be snatched away. It is an absolutely lovely day outside, and the feeling of real, honest to-goodness SPRING in the air fills me with delight. Even better, I have come home to an apartment empty of people, where I can relax and unwind for a few hours all by myself. Furthermore, although I am alone, I have walked through the door to the sound of one of my favorite music tracks playing from Raymond's computer. I know he must have done it to welcome me home, all the way from Raleigh, and I am still smiling for it.

My moods of late have been rather volatile and mixed. I love being here by myself, I really do. I feel so much...freer, I guess, to do and be and feel whatever I like. I'm far more relaxed. Oddly, I find myself wanting to share this feeling of relaxation and release with Raymond....but since it arises out of being ALONE, I'm not really sure how I can do that.

Strange how we can both cherish and resent those things in our lives which we hold the most dear. My solitude. My husband. My sight. My dear friend Relaeh. Writing Club. Even reading. People and things I have agreed to and WANT to have and be with and do. There are not enough hours in the day, in the week, in the MONTH to do it all justice and not feel depleted. And I am constantly reminded, when I get the urge to DO something, that I am held hostage by my sight. Sometimes all I want to do is hop in a car and drive MYSELF downtown to buy a cup of tea, or a book, or an ice cream cone. But I can't. There are always people attached to my travel, husband/friends/busdriver.... I cannot simply walk out the door and go. Oh sure, I can WALK some places. But that takes far more effort than suppressing the desire to go somewhere. And no matter how accommodating the people in my life profess to be, I still feel guilty about asking them to interrupt their own life-streams to take me this place or that. I want to do things on my own, and not inconvenience anyone. Especially not myself.

What would it be like, really, to be completely my own person? The master of my own destiny, queen of my abode and captain of my own ship? What would it be like to be completely in charge of my own person, my own life, and absolutely no one else's?

Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to be married. I'm very happy to be of such help to my very dear friend and to share her conversation and her company. I'm ecstatic to have the people of the Writing Club shower me twice a week with their prose and poetry. But I simply can't seem to shake this subtle, pervasive feeling of being tied, trapped, held hostage against my good behavior. I want to live and be and do the things that I want. I want to be like this lady in "Eat, Pray, Love", and drop everything not fullfilling in favor of a wild adventure into the core of my own being and drive.

Is this a faze? Do I need to fix it? Am I broken? I used to feel as if I were here almost solely for the benefit of other people. I was here to serve them, to give everyone every part of me I possibly could. I believed I was here purely to HELP everyone.

But I don't want to help everyone now. I feel rather like I've done my time and been burnt to a crisp in the process. I need some tender-loving care dammit, and I DON'T need those closest to me saying silly, self-centered things like "You haven't stopped for a single moment to spend time with me today", or "Why don't you want to stay over at my house?". Really now people, I've spent the last CHUNK of my life giving you everything I had. Please, can't you do me the courtesy of backing off? My answer is simply "I was doing something else that I wanted to do" and "Because I just don't want to be there." Take it or leave it folks, I'm about done with being guilty and diplomatic. I NEED my space. I NEED to do my own thing, and sometimes that includes you, and sometimes it doesn't. And sometimes it includes other people NOT you. I've given as many people as I could all the understanding and compassion, time and energy, love and life-force I could possibly manage for years. I don't think it's really unreasonable that I get just a little of that reflected back on me in return.

I love you. I really, really do. I promise that this is a phase, and I will get over it. It might take a year or two, but I WILL balance out. That's not really a very long time in the scheme of things. So as you love me back, do us all a favor and just LET ME GO. Share your life with me sure, I want to know. But support me in my exploration and experimentations. Let me learn what it is to be a strong individual.

I want to learn to be myself. LET ME.

The Day After The Day After

The last two days have been fantastic, more or less. The workshop I went to was worth ever penny of its 25 dollars a session, and more (if I could afford more). It's too bad, in a way, that I shall miss my next one. I managed three poems in a single day on Tuesday, counting the one I wrote before going. And on Wednesday I got to hang out at one of my very favorite places, the Golden Flower tea shop downtown. It was nice, and Julie recognized me. I found a piece of writing I had forgotten about in my notebook. I drew a little, and played around with the poems I had written the day before. Then I had Writing Club at Chelsee's, and that, too, was fantastic. For the first time ever I have a circle of adults with common interests and regular meeting times. It is like Anime club, but not. The feeling of meeting outside of school was heady and potent, and I adored everyone there. Eliza bought us all drinks, a most welcome and appreciated gesture. And while the roleplay on the message board (you can find there here: http://z11.invisionfree.com/FTCC_Writing_Club/index.php?showtopic=17) Has slowed down quite a bit, I've been really enjoying myself.

So why do I feel icky and sluggish? My censor had been very, very active this morning. Thinking about how I should finish editing what Chris has passed around, finish making the tenses match and all my bazillion readability suggestions, and the little voice goes "Like you have so very much more experience than he does. Who do you think you are? He's the one with the publisher and the contract, what could you possibly have to offer against that?". And the melancholia hits me like a sledgehammer.

I have not, in quite some time, had anyone tell me they DISLIKED what I had written. When someone finishes something of mine I receive comments like: "That was cool" or "That was good" or "I liked such-and-such". And I get minor suggestions and criticisms too, which I thrive upon in a way, cause I think "I can make it better. It's already good, but if those are the only objections I can just polish it up, and it will be good. Someone will want it."

And today I feel like no one will ever want it. That everything I write is pleasantly mediocre, it never stays with anyone longer than a few minutes. That I do not write poetry that lingers and flames in the air, like Blake, like Shakespeare, like Tennyson.... That my prose has no meaning to anyone but me. That the characters that are so vivid and real and important to me will never crawl into the heads of other people and set up house in the way of Goodkind, Jordan, McCafferey, Moon, Weber, Card and a hundred others. I think in many ways I have attractive craftsmanship. My sentences are intricate, intelligent, and descriptive. But are they interesting? Are they inspired? I fear that what I lack is not something I can grow into. It's not something I can get better at with practice: the fundamental flame of vivid imagination and inspiration that lights an answering fire in other human beings. What else can it be, when someone expresses interest in what I have written, and once they have read a piece of it, they do not ask for more?

And I have to wonder if all my creative works are doomed to pleasant mediocrity. That everything I do will be met with "That's very nice. But I was thinking about this other thing over here....". I will be doomed to the realm of mild, short-lived interest and appreciation , where everyone likes what I've done in a general sort of way, but no one wants to live in my universe, buy the house I've made, use my animations.... My structures, in word or image, will forever be too confining and restrictive, and never, never tempt anyone to exist within them.

I feel as though no matter what I do, my worlds and buildings will never contain anyone but me, and the people in my head. I am not bad enough to make better. I am not good enough to succeed.

This is, of course, the nasty censor and inner saboteur talking. I don't even have an Associate's Degree in architecture yet, I still have plenty of room to practice and improve there, and my ideas are always getting freer in that realm. I do not play with my 3D animation software, or even my paint programs, enough to be even thoroughly versed in them, let alone a fantastic artist. And my writing....I have very little finished, besides poetry. And what I do have, one novel, one short story, needs serious editing. The short story is my best bet, it's new and I haven't despaired of it yet and it needs relatively little work. But who will take it? Who would want something so cliche? The outcome is predictable. The characters are stereotypes. Certainly everyone who has read it has gotten a different idea about what it is really about but...is that enough?

I have sent out my poetry twice, and been rejected both times. No one asks me "What wonderful thing have you created or worked on today?" But I don't really know what I want from other people. I thought I just wanted a balanced critique, a gentle understanding of what is good, and what could be better and how. But it isn't enough. But it isn't enough. At the end of the day, what I want, crave, is for SOMEONE to be interested, to be excited by my creative process. To be blown away the way I am by Eliza's poetry, Scribe's exquisite worlds, Adryn's fascinating characters, Jen's delightful narrative, Chris's vivid imagery, Raymond's mystic concepts, or Relaeh's evocation of emotion. In the end I want someone (no, let's be honest here, I want EVERYONE) to ask when they see me, hear from me, "So what have you worked on lately? Oh really? That's awesome! When can I see it? This is fantastic!".

That, I think, is what I want. Thorough and constant validation that my creative struggle is worthwhile. And I do not want to hear it in response to my begging here. I want to hear it because my work is genuinely interesting, engaging, exciting. And while I feel like this, I don't know if I could accept that response as genuine and valid even if I did receive it.

The day before yesterday I could do everything. Today, I can do nothing. That's Scorpio extremism for you. Do I look as absolutely pathetic and ridiculous as I think I do? Don't answer that, this is merely a poor me rant with no basis. It deserves no response. I am putting off my homework.