Keep Calm And Carry On

Just 18 hours away from a new era, and this blogger’s only resolution is to become employed. I gave up the cliché’d resolutions long ago. Of course, it’s irrelevant to make a New Year’s resolution that never applies to one in the first place. I don't imbibe, snort, smoke, work-out, over-spend, over-charge, over-sleep, or make promises I can’t keep.

I’ve also not done a very good job of maintaining a usual blog output. Or have I? How can one justify a blog-entry, if little to nothing has changed. Am I then only attempting to fill a space out of boredom? I can’t imagine that makes for a very stimulating blog.

Being a Gemini, I’m not one to care what someone else’s expectations are for me. I’m only happiest if I please myself. Though, that’s not to say that I’d be happy while someone else is miserable. The old saying is true: ‘If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy.’

Anywoo, back to resolutions: I’ve spent six months doing the same thing; hoping for a relevant change. I’ll still hope, but try harder. In the meantime, I’ll keep up on the happiness part, which involves consuming mass quantities of reading, and doing lots of writing.

Not to turn Oprah on y’all, but what was your ‘favorite thing’ that happened this year? Mine was the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics. I’ve glanced up to notice an occasional blurb happening on my T.V. screen during past Olympics—brain-dead and disinterested. I’ll even admit to not paying attention, when London initially got the vote for the 2012 Games.

However, this has been a banner year for England; William & Kate celebrating their first year of marriage, a baby on the way, the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, a new James Bond film, and the 50^th anniversary of Bond, The Beatles, and the Stones.

Makes the Union Jack flag hanging in my loo seem relevant. ;)

Happy New Year!

The Tryptophan Will Get Ya...

Well, as you can tell, I took a long break from blogging. I no longer feel obligated to blog every few days, as I think that would tax your interest, were I to not come up with something original. IOW, I've figured out that not everyone wants to try and keep up with me. C'est la vie!

Moving on, Thanksgiving was great! But at the end of it, Mah's observation was surprising, as she seemed disappointed. "I spent almost two days cooking...and it took us less than an hour to sit and enjoy the meal." Ha, ha! She was enjoying getting a head-start on the process of cooking, making everything nearly 48 hours ahead of time. And, as there was only three of us at the table, we were 'thankful' that we didn't have everyone else’s 'out-of-town-nightmare-relatives' situation going on. Though, I can't think of anyone in our family that's like that...not even a 'Drunk Uncle'. We got to wear our sweatpants or stretchies, saving ourselves the familiar images of 'open-belt-zipper-down'. (Shudder!)

And, I am thankful for all that I have. A healthy and happy family. A warm, dry roof over my head, and a fridge with leftover turkey. I know others are having tougher times than I. The only 'tough' part that I can allow myself some despondency is my unemployment status.

The saying: "There's a lid for every pot," is set aside for people seeking relationships. I don't need a relationship, dagnabbit. I need work. So, I'd like to think this same quote could work for job-seekers keeping that hopeful spark. I have to hold out hope that there's a lid for my pot, somewhere. :)

I attended the Excel workshop, and got fairly comfortable with it. It'll still take some getting used to, but I won't give up. It's a step in the right direction.

I'm still working on the manuscript, naturally. And, I'm soooo glad we live in a time where the researching is waaaaay easier. Information at your fingertips! I have scenes in which one of my characters has plagiarism problems. (Cue melodramatic music here! Dunh-dunh-DUNH!)

Anywoo, here's to hoping that this time next year, I'll enjoy being one of the many nut-cases that parks themselves outside a big-box store, waiting for its doors to open, so I can spend hard-earned money on huge Black Friday sales.

The Politics of Writing

   Shall I touch on the possible changes in our future, in the next 48 hours? Or, should I leave it alone? Like we hear from the media, I, too, am saturated with the election news. Ever progressing, but still the same. Thank Cookies it's almost over. And, I'll either be very happy, or be really let down by the outcome. The race is so close. Both thoroughbreds are neck-n-neck at the finish line, and the gamblers, which are pretty much all of us, are going to feel it absolutely if we lose.

   Also, on a side-note, I did not put my ballot in one of those ballot boxes. I'd considered it, but instead mailed it via the U.S. Postal service. And, man, am I glad I did. In less than three weeks, I've heard news stories of voter application forms being thrown out by reps of the Republican party, and ballot boxes being filled in with Republican nominee names, by those the ballot doesn’t belong to.  

   It'd be a funny thing though; if Obama wins, despite all the lying, cheating, violating, and other scurrilous behavior we've been hearing about on the part of the Republican party, then I'll feel that he was meant to win.

   Then, I can breathe a sigh of relief, and go back to my more immediate concerns; attending a computer workshop. Namely, helping me navigate Excel. (After all, I've not had any need for using a spread-sheet)


   On writing: researching restraining orders has opened my eyes to the fact that there’s no such thing as one kind of restraining order.

   “Quoi?” you ask. Exactly.

   Upon hearing a cop or lawyer on T.V. say "restraining order," we all think, ‘Oh, that guy’s not allowed anywhere near that woman for the rest of his life.’

   Not entirely, mes amis.  It’s a ‘blanket’ word—we get the gist of its meaning, but if you ever find yourself needing one, there’s very specific types of orders:

 * Emergency Protective Order

 * Temporary Restraining Order

 * Permanent Restraining Order

   And from those, there are branches of what type of order is needed:

Civil Harassment Orders

Workplace Violence Prevention Restraining Order

Juvenile Restraining Order

Stalking Protective Orders

Elder Abuse Protective Orders

Family Abuse Protective Orders


   I’ve looked at several websites, and there doesn’t seem to be a consistent theme as to whether there are two or three types of ‘orders’ to be applied for. And, as a writer, I thought I could just slap a restraining order on my protagonist’s evil enemy, and have done with it.

   However—and I’ve found this helpful—I’ve had to navigate specifically what constitutes successfully applying/arguing for an order. So, while it can alter one’s writing from what was thought to be known, it can also improve it.

   It just sucks that I can’t apply for a restraining order against the person who sent my laptop that damn virus. Sigh!

Not exactly La Push...

     Politics, casinos, baking, reading, and writing. Yah, that's been my world for the last few weeks. Or else I might've had nothing to update my blog with, and it all would've been very blah in here.


    And here I am about to light a match of pissed-offness in you, depending on your political P.O.V.; come November, I'm voting for "four more years," because I don't believe our president was given enough time to clean up the mess he was left with. (Burn!) Also, NO non-tribal casinos. And I've got a charismatic governor to back me up. : D

     We knew the good weather wouldn't hold here for much longer, and Mah was really wanting sand and surf, in lieu of not being able to indulge in her Daytona time-share this year. So, she and I road-tripped to the coast recently. I once said that we were good road-trip partners, and I was right. Talking, listening to music, reading, snacking, gambling, pointing out beautiful northwest wine country scenery along the way...that's a road-trip! Especially when you know she knows how to have a picnic on the beach; crackers, fruit, cheese, wine, and chocolates. Only thing missing was the cast of Downton Abbey. : D

     As for the reading, I've been Googling more local writers, getting a feel for which authors would interest me. And one of my favorite genres is mystery. So, with a recent trek to my local library, I now have enough reading material to last me many rainy days. I'm a book-foodie, as you know, and I'll be feasting on the mystery novels of Kate Wilhelm. The first one I broke into has already got my love; the story spans from Oregon, to my 'second home' of New Orleans. Sigh! I'm definitely savoring that one. :)


     Baking: I helped make Mah more aware that there are expiration dates on box-mixes; they aren't to be bought and stored away high up in a cabinet, forgotten. Because when someone else actually gets around to baking them, they're not quite as good as you hoped. Of course, it also helped me to understand the concept of 'tester recipes'. And my 'testers' of box-mix sugar-cookies (and later, brownies) weren't sampled and then thrown out. No, when I make 'sweets', the people around me eat them. I.O.W., I don't bake crap.


     And, I've found that I really enjoy it. I'm no Nigella Lawson, mind you. I just enjoy a task where the result is going to be decadent, and fattening, and totally bad for me. And, would you believe it actually helps with my writing?? Without revealing too much, one of the characters I write of has a desire to be a business-owner, but somehow, she picked up the mad skills for baking.

     Anywoo, I have near-future plans to try more complicated scratch-baking recipes. However--and for those of you whom are familiar with my past posts--I'll wait until Marie Barone is visiting her little brother in Brokeback country.

A Million Little Pages

     Tabloids/tabloid t.v. shows can have such fun bullshit to read/watch sometimes! For one, Ellen DeGeneres poked fun at the paparazzi on her show yesterday for taking pictures of she and Portia in matching outfits and calling it a 'fashion-showdown'. It was basically nothing, but tabloids always love to remove the 'no,' and turn it into a 'thing.' 

     The job-searching continues, but hopefully, I'm getting closer to resolving it. The [nameless] work-search facility I've been going to has been helping me figure out what I need to do to better my chances at employment. It looks like a handful of workshops are in my future. But then, I never met a workshop I didn't like. :)


     I'm almost finished consuming the fourth Chelsea Cain 'Archie/Gretchen' book. (I put it down for a short time while I read the Kathy Reichs book--the same autographed copy I sent to my SIL for her birthday) As soon as I finish the fifth 'A/G' book, I'll switch back to April Henry. Cain and Henry are proving to be my favorite local writers. I am a mild junkie for crime-novels. (And proud of it. I like reading about the bad guys getting what they deserve.)

     I love to read, but sometimes I'd feel bad that I wasn't reading the kinds of authors we're told by the more learned folks that we should be reading. So, with a little help from Wikipedia, I'd go and read the synopses of a well-known author's works; ones that either made a bestseller's list, or were listed as a 'prolific read'. It doesn't ruin the story for me, as it only goes into mild detail, leaving me enough room to decide if I'm interested in reading it.

     Now, I'll likely get some haters on this, but I've concluded that I'm no real fan of Graham Greene. I only like a few stories of Ursula K. Le Guin's, and William Faulkner has been a little difficult for me to analyze. (Can you tell I was my English Lit professor's favorite??)

     However, this doesn't mean that I won't ever read these authors. History has shown me that I likely will; I barely got through 'The Scarlet Letter', or 'Brave New World' in high school. But I picked them up again in my mid-30's, and liked them better, then.

     I'm also not a fan of non-fiction. I don't read 'bullshit memoirs', so you'll never spot James Frey on MY bookshelf. But there are exceptions; I'd like to get my hands on Rosalind Russell's autobiography, 'Life Is A Banquet'.

     In the meantime, here's your moment of Zen.

                      "So many books, so little time." ~ Frank Zappa

Free of fleas & ticks!

     Apparently, to get attention, or gather readers to one's blog, one has to truly be interesting. Or, maybe even behave in a less than decorous manner. I know it certainly worked for Snooki and Amanda Bynes. After all, everyone loves a hot mess.

     But, I don't buy into that, completely. Someone once told me, "You are what you follow online." If that's true, then I'm an intransigent, and yet sometimes flexible, Twi-hard. ;)

     I'm devouring the fourth book in the 'Archie/Gretchen' series by Chelsea Cain. SPOILER ALERT: I just passed the part where 'Herald' journalist Susan Ward was talking to the skull at the morgue. ("I wrote about you.") That was right up my morbid-humor alley! Loved it! I love local writers, using local locale in their stories!

     I vaguely mentioned my hot-under-the-collar attitude on my Facebook newsfeed yesterday. I was a little pissed off at the one woman no child can ever feel truly justified being pissed off at. MOM. Or, as I call her, Mah. I only ever really get angry with her when she interferes with my cooking. I'm not a bad cook, really. And I KNOW she knows I can make a delish lemon cake.

     But every once in a while, she'll turn into Marie Barone. (Any 'ELR' fan will know of what I speak.) And for a Gemini, that doesn't fly; we go from funny-n-friendly, to angry-n-blistering in seconds flat when our tasks are interfered with.

     But Mothers & Daughters...we have our own understandings of one another, don't we? Even the Father & Son relationship could never unravel that mystery the female-sex possesses. ;) 

     Anywoo, it's been 24 hours since Mah and I had our mild cat-fight, and we're fine. Actually, it was fine long before we sat down to coffee and the newspaper. She alerted me to the fact that 'Robsten' are back together---in time for the series of junkets they'll need to do for BD Pt. 2. But I coulda told her that the morning Perez Hilton reported it. Sigh, the drama of Hollywood.


     Mah's friend, 'D' called the other day. Mah house-sits, and dog-sits D's adopted-and-retired service-dogs for her on occasion. And a single call gave me some more material for my writing.

     Apparently, the day after 'D' had bathed the dogs, she used the same shower. After she finished, it suddenly occurred to her that she had just used dog shampoo to wash her hair.

     Truth really is stranger than fiction, and it can make for interesting writing. ; )

Pepperjack & Pinot

     Once again, it's dry cereal to the rescue, with my luke-warm coffee, and job-searching. Job-searching sucks when you're unemployed. It's like you wanna scream to any potential employer, "Hey, see me?! I can do this, I can do this, I can do this...is any of this helpful to you??? Anything?"
  
     Sigh! Now my Da has some idea for his own semi-start-up, and is trying to figure out a way to employ me. I've played house-sitter/secretary for he and Mah, when they've been outta town. Where we don't do well with road-trips together, we seem to do well when working with one another. Most of the time, anywoo.



     I think cats are probably the only 'Peeping Toms' on Earth that we allow to peer in on us from outdoors. We know they don’t care about what they’re looking in on. 

     I was writing at my desk this morning, and I turned to see a black-and-white cat had appeared at my window. He sat down on my deck at first, then snuggled down on his haunches just to observe me for a while. I looked at him, and he looked in at me. So I turned feline myself, ignoring him in favor of my writing, but seeing him in the corner of my eye as he sunned himself.

     If some owner had secretly attached a collar-cam that I failed to notice, he likely would’ve assessed my square cocoon as mildly disoriented; recently used Union Jack suitcases sitting before my bureau, an unmade bed, a Native-American throw rug in dire need of Hoovering, a garage-sale ‘steal’ of an easy-chair, (the man selling it said his “Crazy Ex” took the back-cushion and left the rest) a Mardi Gras-colored golf umbrella waiting for our next rainy Oregon day, a skull-n-crossbones backpack that I’ve used for my last three years of college, and a bookshelf overflowing with the tomes I will never give away. 

     I can envisage what ‘creepy-cat-camera-peeper’ would think of my collection of coffee-packages, and Felix The Cat salt-n-pepper shakers keeping company with my array of Anne Rices, Stephenie Meyers, J.K. Rowlings, Joan Didions, and Diana Gabaldons. Likely that I’m the ‘Women’s-Lit-Chick’. 

     I do have some Dominick Dunne, some Sherman Alexie, a John Berendt, some April Henry, Flannery O’Connor, Fannie Flagg, Kathy Reichs…okay, so maybe I have more chick-lit than anything else. I like Stephen King, but not all the time. I like Tom Clancy, too, but not all the time either. I even like Uncle Robert ‘Rabbie’ Burns. Just…not…well, you get the point. Sigh!


      Well, whatta ya want? I’m a chick. I’m a writer. I’m a Gemini. And I’m in Oregon. It rains a lot. And snuggling into a garage-sale easy-chair with a cup of coffee and a book is a Pac-NWer’s favorite pastime. Nine-sometimes-ten months outta the year.

      Anywoo, the coffee’s consumed, and it’s after noon. Time to break into that bottle of Le Bicyclette my SIL gave me awhile back. Couple that with some cheese cubes and peach slices, and I’m set for more writing.


     The cat’s still sun-napping, and we’re still ‘ignoring’ one another.

"Come play with us, Danny. Forever, and ever..."

Pandora’s Box Love Kit

   I’m truly ashamed of the three big ol’ donkeys that were so sure they were ready to cart themselves in a minivan for nearly three-quarters of a day. The road-trip took a turn for the different-and-unexpected, when Mah got behind the wheel.  I don’t remember a time where I’ve ever been worried about her driving. But I’m still stunned that we made it to Idaho. I also suspect that she’ll be getting a traffic ticket in the mail soon. (Those flashy-photo-mechanisms at intersections don’t lie) I’d sooner forget the rest of the drama that followed for the rest of the trip, thank you verra much! (Going, and returning)

   The most bizarre highway occurrence was seeing another car turned up and over onto its roof. The windshield was cracked, but the roof wasn’t smashed in or flattened, so I hope the passengers escaped somewhat unscathed. When we passed by it, traffic was already being directed around cop cars and fire trucks, and an ambulance was taking off, screeching it’s siren in the hot-n-dusty eastern Oregon air.

   The most write-worthy part of the road-trip was stopping at a ‘Not Quite Mom-n-Pop’ gas station for fuel—the petrol, and caffeinated variety. Who knew they still had condom vending-machines in the ladies (poor-excuse-for-an-actual) bathroom.

   By the time I slipped my card-key into Meridian’s finest Motel 6, I needed decompressing, and did NOT want to leave the air-conditioned space for anything. So I missed—but was not completely missed at—my niece’s b-day party. There were over 20 other relatives or friends attending, and rug-rats as near as the auditory nerves could stand. Also, I’m Baptist, and I was going to be there for the next three-ish days, so I failed to feel any guilt. (My bloated, crampy, bitchy presence wasn’t needed anyhow)

   On the upside of the trip, I finished the Chelsea Cain, and started feasting on another novel I’ve “been meaning to get to,” as I say about all books that I truly am “meaning to get to”. Kathryn Stockett’s 'The Help' is a great read, y’all. I highly recommend it. And please, don’t sneer at the ‘chick-lit’ genre it’s been given. Yes, it’s about relationships women have. But, men, you have no idea just how insidiously evil powerful women can be towards other women, when they want their way. I guarantee you won’t regret allowing yourselves to read this ‘chick-book’.

   So, now I need to consult my stack of unread books, and see what I’ll dine on next, while also proofing, editing, and revising my own manuscript. I’m not allowing myself to call it the ‘B’ word until I feel I’m really done, and present it to an agent one day. But even if I’m told to revise some of it, I’ll still feel good about it, I believe. I hope, anyway.

   The job search is back on. I’ve consulted Job Connections at Goodwill, trawled Craigslist, and have sent out several more query letter-emails and résumés. So I hope something promising comes along. At this rate, I’d accept a mind-numbing, paper-stapling job, just to earn a salary once again. Sigh! 
   But after listening to Bill Clinton’s speech last night, I know I can’t give up. I have to hope that my three years of (ungraduated) college education will benefit me somehow. One of my dream jobs would be to work in a bookstore. (Ooh, that would be fantastic!)

     In the meantime, some of my lame-o poetry. (Feel free to pretend you’re at a coffeehouse and snap your fingers, or applaud lightly. No hecklers, please)

Coffee

Trente, venti, grande, or tall,

Sometimes an espresso is too bloody small.

Frappuccinos, cappuccinos, macchiatos, oh my

I long for the caffeine to give me that high.

Wrapping my hands around that hot, steaming mug,

Is the equivalent to receiving a motherly hug.

My coffee never fails me, and it gets me through the morn,

It makes me glad for the day I was born.

Decaf simply won't do it for me.

I'd sooner accept a strychnine I.V.

Closeted 'Fifty Shades' Gemini

     I won't be at a computer again til Tuesday, (see what I did there?) so maybe I can devour another book by the time I get back from Nampa. (I'm almost fini with the Chelsea Cain, and I need to run out and get the fourth in her 'Archie/Gretchen' series!)

     I couldn't sleep much, so I chose to see what humor I might possess at 3:05a., with my skulls-n-crossbones coffee mug steaming beside me.

     On the manuscript, I've recently added scenes that should've been there a long time ago. You know the saying: "Sex sells." So that's what I added. Not 'Fifty Shades Of Grey' sex, but still just as lengthy. (Y'all are awake now, ain'tcha??)

     Did I mention I'm a Gemini? I won't speak for all Geminis, but some of us get distracted easily. I won't attribute it A.D.D., (or A.D.H.D, or whatever) even though I'd been diagnosed with it at five y/o. Yah, I was on Ritalin, too, just like everyone else...see what I mean about distracted?? I'm guessing a Gemini's blog is generally going to be 'stream-of-consciousness' writing.

    Anywoo, one of my hopes, one day, is that a literary agent or editor won't tell me to lose half my manuscript's characters. I don't have a lot. (Like Diana Gabaldon 'Outlander' series a lot) And all my characters serve their purpose. I know a writer is supposed to introduce each new character in a way that doesna overwhelm the reader. I've read some books where the author threw too many at me at once, and I'd get lost in who was who. 


    The fun part of writing can be from using one's own personal experiences. The saying: "Truth is stranger than fiction" can make for interesting 'memories' for my fictional characters. I know one day my lil' bros. will read what I've written, and think: "Oh my gawd! I remember when that happened!" It'll all be put in a fictional tale, (as I don't really favor my own non-fic memoir writing; you get too many things wrong, and also, some memories are best left buried) but some of the actions or scenes will be recognized, and laughed over. :)

     Okie-day, I've had a look at the time--the road-trip will be starting soon, and I need to go. I won't be posting until next week, so I pray that I'll still manage to keep your interest.

     Ooh! I just remembered one of the key-factors in writing: CONFLICT!! I guarantee there'll be plenty of it for me, the next several days. Be sure to watch the national news during that time. First person to see my mugshot on the screen, in a story about murder, gets a bottle of Jack Daniels from me!!

Ernest Hemingway said it best...

     "All first drafts are shit."

     Day 2 of the blahhhg, with a big coffee in hand. I hope you won't find it bromidic. :)

     So, what's the usual reason anyone starts a blog? Well, I'm told 'those with a life' submit daily journals of their busyness. But I can't speak with expertise, because I think I've glanced through 1-2 blogs in my whole life. It's like the old saying: "Everything I needed to know, I learned on Facebook." ;)

     All the more reason for me to be far more proactive about reading others blogs. And I can't think of better blogs to start with than my favorite novelists, and various writers for whom I greatly support. My bestie, Mai, would say that's so me. (Shout out to her daughter, Tanya, the journalism major, who made such an impression on her new boss recently, that he gifted her a bottle of Jack Daniels! You go, girl!)

     Yes, blogs have become the curriculum vitae of the writer. The more 'well-known' have written about their experiences on book-tours. (I should be so lucky!) My bestie's fave author takes pictures of his book-reading audience, and posts it on his blog. It can be a self-esteem booster on those days you find a 'hate' review of your latest novel by the N.Y. Times, I suppose. :)

     So, for those who don't know me, this was my segue into revealing that, like author Helene Hanff, I'm a "poor writer." And, as we live in an age where readers and writers pull apart each word-meaning, I don't mean I'm a lousy writer, I mean I'm a broke writer. Ha, ha, thought ya got me there, didn't you? : D

     Anyway, yes, I'm a writer. An unpublished one at that, though I came super-close, once. But I couldn't manage to sway enough votes for my poetry submission while attending a publishing class, that just also happened to put out my college's lit magazines. Eh...c'est la vie. 

     But I don't let rejection get me down. Greater writers get rejected all the time. Did you know that author Kathryn Stockett received sixty rejections for her novel, The Help? We're discovering more and more that the publishing business isn't an exact science. Even Stephenie Meyer received rejections. (It makes me guffaw to think how no publishing house will ever admit they turned down Twilight. Wow!)

     I have written poetry, but in the act of disclosure, it was only ever for a poetry class. And, here's where I will have the stones to name-drop; Robert 'Rabbie' Burns is my sixth-great uncle. (I know, right?) Though, if he was able to read my feeble attempt to wax poetic, it would've only driven him harder to the bottle. : D

     However, as my numerous other writing venues, classes, and writing instructors have assured me, I seem to have a knack for creative fiction-writing. That's my forte--I like to make shit up. ;)  And, for the last three-and-a-half years, I've been working on a manuscript that I was almost sure was finished a long time ago. I was wrong. Any literary agent, editor, or publisher worth their stuff would say, "Not enough conflict." And they'd be right. Also, it desperately needs a better climax. : p

     So, when I'm not already going through the motions of job-searching, attending book-readings, or reading local authors while stuffing my face with dry cereal straight out of the box, I'm steadily working on my manuscript. And I've done exactly what the experts always suggest: I've written what I know; the thoughts and feelings that ping-pong around inside a person when they're attending a new school, in a new place they've never been before.

     That said, I have to get off my fat blog (see what I did there?!) and go read and absorb other authors blog-spaces. One thing's for sure--it'll clue me into whether you fell into that state of ennui, after all, while gracing my blog-space with your time. (Shameful ass-kissing, I know)

     Below is your deserved Zen moment of "Awwwwww!"