Twice.

I forgot to number the pages, and I think I still had a bunch of highlighted words in the text. I overuse certain words: darkness, stumble, was, is, he, she. Okay those last two are just for funsies, but I do overuse words. I actually found “skedaddle” twice in the text. Who says that stuff? This is an interesting experiment for me this time. It’s a new novel, or WIP (work in progress) that takes place in Portland. The main character is based of me (ahhh writers and their ego). Even her dogs are Puck and Pip. Oh, and they are beagles. I’m so original. What different about this one is the tense (present) and the point of view (1st person). I am very very comfy writing in 3rd/past, but my lovely DeMentor recommended that I change it. So far it works, although I find myself having a hard time stopping the action to put in things that the main character notices. When is it really good to put in detail about a fight? Or when should the action stop to explain something? How do you balance the need for pacing with the need to keep the reader informed? I guess this is all a balance I will learn to maintain.

Or I will just switch the motherfucker back into 3rd/past.

I’m also going to take a stab at outlining this. That is kind of scary for me. I’m a “pantser” writer. I write by the seat of my pants, never planning, just seeing where the words take me. Now, this is fine and all, but I’ve noticed I start the books with one main character and end up writing about another one entirely. That’s a tad distracting when you intend to tell a story. That happened with the last book I started writing (which has been shelved until I finish this monster). I had a great hero, who turned out to be a great villain, who ended up overshadowed by another great character.

Le sigh.

Such is the life of a writer.

So, I sent an email to my crit partners and my DeMentor with the cleaned up, numbered version of my submission. All before midnight.

I’m notorious for turning things in late. I would rather be notorious for being an awesome writer, or particularly good at storytelling. Alas, no, I’m the girl with 10000000 excuses and inconsistent prose. I’m not beating myself up here, it’s the truth. When I have time to edit, which I like way more than the actual writing, I’m proud of what I turn out. But when I wait until the last minute to shit out some half-baked text, and then try to edit it, well the end result is somewhere between awful and embarrassing. I’ve promised myself that I will work ahead this term. It’s my last one, for real, so I should give it my all.

Now, I have some travel plans coming up this week. Unfortunately the flight was booked for last week, so I spent a frantic hour on the phone with the family trying to rectify the situation. It’s fixed. I’m still going to see them, but my new flight leaves an hour earlier. Doh! That’s going to be a long ass day, let me tell you. I’m going to work from 6:00 – 2:00 and then head to the airport to fly out. Let’s hear it for coffee! Wheeee!

Now, I should try to get some sleep, but that pot of coffee I drank so I could stay up and get my submission done has woken my brain. Where’s my off switch? In a bottle of wine, of course. But even I know that’s a bad idea.

I’ve made birthdays a big thing. It’s the one day I think that everyone should drop everything for their friends and show the fuck up. My birthday has become the day of disappointments. It fractures the fragile bonds I hold sacred. It just mucks things up.

This year, it would do none of those things.

David worked his ass off to make sure I was happy. We woke. I made a lovely meal. We played WoW until the evening, when we jumped into the shower to make ourselves presentable. The time spent at Alu really solidified things (by the way, they have the COOLEST front door…and a little fire pit..and popcorn w/ curry, and little tags on your wine so you know what you drank and if you liked it…brilliant little place). My birthday may be important to me, and David and my family, but I can’t expect the everyone to understand. The universe didn’t even see fit to grant me my first rejection (this waiting game is killing me). What it did give me was my first birthday in years without tears.

And that is a beautiful gift.

That is honestly because of David, not the universe. So thanks, honey.

David also made me fall back in love with my camera again. He rules. I heart him.

I don’t hold with a few of Facebook’s privacy policies. I have that profile locked down completely, but my blog is open. You will probably know more about me from this place than from Facebook. I know it seems contradictory, but I want my address and cell number hidden, thank you very much. Also, it’s no one’s business who I am connected with. I look at this blog like a mirrored room. I’m in here, doing my thing, making an ass out of myself but the windows are mirrored so I can’t see who looks in. In all honesty, I don’t care. I know that my family has read this, friends, perhaps old acquaintances. I hope no possible jobby jobby people reads this, but I’ve locked down most of the posts that dealt with jobs. Except that “I got laid off twice in one year” thing. No, everyone can read that.

It sucked.

I share the suck.

Back to facebook. So I’ve found:

• my first boyfriend when I moved to Miami in 94 (he is happily married now and has a ridiculously adorable dog)
• the guy who inadvertently started the breakup between me and the bastard that almost ruined my life (we went to see Bauhaus together and the ex had nautical hissy fit – thank god for Bauhaus)
• the only man who was ever able to call me a princess with a straight face and I didn’t punch him (he actually meant it, perhaps that is why I loved him so…he saw something in me I still don’t see)
• a friend I used to bite because I thought it was funny (yes, I acted like a toddler back then) and a few people who knew me by a completely different name (the interwebs and chat rooms were newish back then, so I was Q for a long time… long story).

It’s been amazing catching up with many of them, and it makes me wonder where the rest of them wandered off to. Where is my ex-roommate who danced with me and kissed me on the sidewalks of Ybor City, or the friends who danced with me to DJ Icey until the sun rose that FIRST time (I ditched a date to hang out with them),  or the former coworker I had a terrible crush on but with who ended up being one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. I wonder about the people I’ve hurt – the former best friend who had a thing for me but who I abused (never take people for granted), or the other friend who got caught between my destructive relationship and my need to move on. Maybe they will find me on facebook too. Maybe not. I’m just happier knowing where some of these characters ended up, many of them happy and settled. Oh, but the wild nights we used to have…. there are stories I could tell.

This weekend started off well. It’s been hotter than the devil’s taint, here in loverly Portland.  The hubbie and I gallivanted down to an impromptu happy hour with some of my favorite people from work. Then we geeked out at the casa and ignored the fact that we really need to clean (Cats should seriously have to shave themselves in the summer. Valentine’s hair has gotten ridiculous). I’ve been bitching about it all summer, the whole 5 days we’ve actually had this summer. Saturday we spent time at a favorite watering hole with a favorite friend who, no matter how many times we talk, shocks me with her intelligence and wit. And, holy god, does she have some funny stories. It’s the hardest I have laughed since residency.

Then on Sunday, put on my Grumpasarus pants.

I lost the domain name for my other site. How many Erica McEacherns are running around out there? A few, as far as I can tell, and one of them snagged the domain name that has been under my control for 2 years. But I didn’t pay attention to the e-mails and hollering from godaddy and so now I don’t have the fucking site.

I’m very bitter about this.

I.Should. Pay. Attention.

I get so much crap in my email these days that I ignore most of it. I am waiting for a very important e-mail from a woman I have dubbed Awfulsauce. But that is a story for later in this blog post.

CHICKEN!

I’m listening to a really good song right now – “Warning” by Great Northern. Hmmm… I should remember them and check out the rest of the album (I love you Pandora…. Loooooooveee youuuuu).

Back to the bitching. So, to torture me, I keep getting e-mails about the status of my former site. I then, in a knee-jerk reaction, purchased two new domains, which I will be working on getting up and running in the coming days. Thank god my other site is hosted by Squarespace… didn’t lose anything, just the name.

Fucking douche.

In the same month, our car was hit in the parking lot at New Seasons and our radio died. It’s not actually dead. Dead would be okay. Dead would not tempt me by playing music at mid level and now allowing me to change the song. Dead would not tease me with a radio button that doesn’t work. Dead is fine. No, the damn thing half-works. I need to order a new faceplate from Alpline. I just haven’t. Our car also got banged up by some fucktard at New Seasons when I ran in to grab lunch. It’s not worth filing an insurance claim, it just looks like shit. I wish someone would throw the car off a cliff.

No radio.Bad paint job when we had it fixed from the accident and a radio that was never installed correctly when it got ripped out last summer.

I hate that car, but I miss NPR in the morning.

School was amazing. This is the first term that no one was graduating, so when we would normally trod off to thesis readings, we had time, and lots of it. Too much time, if you ask me,  because idle hands do the devil’s work and apparently my devil really likes to drink (I know this is a shock to you all…it’s okay. I only really drank to excess 2 out of the 6 nights we were there). There were again jokes that were made that still make me giggle, but Zorro just isn’t funny to other people (It happens…in your EYE!). I ended the week with a less functioning liver, many bug bites, a new thesis project, grass stains on my favorite jeans, mystery bruises, corgi hair on my sweater,  a fun button that mentions my Twitter addiction, new friends, and lots of big dreams.

So, speaking of dreaming. I have had the lovely Calie as a crit partner for 2 years now (god help her). We were told that we had to have a third person in our group. Now, Calie and I are kind of snarky. We can deal with each others bitchiness and flaws because we truly love each other and we have no qualms about calling the other out. In truth – we are honest in the most vicious way. This attitude and way of working is not feasible for many of our school cohorts. Only the strongest of bitches can put up with us, and that woman would be Ven. Now Venessa is a recivitus, and a full time editor. She’s also willing to spank me, so it is the best of all worlds.

During the residency, a few agents came to work and speak with the alums. I am techincally an alum, but since I am back in school to get the “F” or get “F’d” as it were, I didn’t have a chance to participate in any of the alum stuff. They had pitch sessions that the alums could sign up for, and Ven was in charge of getting them filled up and keeping the agents happy (that woman is a workhorse and can juggle monkeys. I’m sure she can.), which mean getting all the pitch sessions signed up for. We were upstairs, and I think I was probably bitching about day 3 of my hangover when she demanded I go downstairs and sign up for a pitch session.

Truth? I’ve never written one.

Truth? I don’t have a synopsis.

Truth? I hate talking about my book because I always feel like I’m saying the wrong thing.

Truth? I was scared shitless.

Ven and I went to the room to sign up. A woman was signing little tickets for the raffle next to us when I began bitching about not know what the hell I was doing. The woman, with a hungry smile, sat me down and had me practice pitch to her, had me answer some questions (It made me feel amazingly stupid when I didn’t realize what my conflict was) and then proudly told me that I’d just pitched. Then Ven told me who it was.

One of the agents.

Who is known to be beastly.

And then I signed up to do a formal pitch. I still had an entire class to get through prior to the pitch. I will admit to not paying one iotia of attention. I wrote my pitch. Ven was in the class with me and found a lovely handout generated by another student that walked us through how to write one. It was an amazing document. So, we both wrote our pitches (she was to go right after me), and then I snuck out of class early to go downstairs and deal with the agent.

I heard her reject someone right before I went in.

My stomach fell into my toes.

And then with a laugh that could shake buildings she called me in. I don’t know if it is polite to state who I spoke with (I’m going to err on the side of caution here), but she made me laugh. She was so easy to talk to  and her laugh was inflectious, but she still scared the hell out of me.

Then she requested a full manuscript.

I didn’t pitch my book. She liked me. So, she wanted my book.

Life is strange.

I tried to hug her later and she kicked me (or poked me… I may have a been a touch overserved), but Awfulsauce seemed happy to meet me, and I was more than pleased to meet her. Now I’m just waiting for my first, ever rejection. At least it’s going to be a big one. By the way, in her contacts list, my profession is listed as: Awesomesauce. I met another lovely agent during the weekend, but I think I was too drunk when I tried to pitch to him. He may or may not have asked for pages, but I was so embarrassed about my drunkenness then I didn’t send a damn thing. I am only regretting it a little.

I am also starting on a new thesis project. When I wrote my first book (which was my thesis for my MA), I had no clue what I was doing, or what I was getting myself into. I painted myself in a few corners with the story and the limits I set for the characters. I felt comfortable with those characters though, so I started book 2 with my MFA. That sounded like a grand idea but I’m tired of those annoying little buggers. In all honesty, they are not cooperative and the characters I want to focus on decide to retreat to the shadows and pout, or smoke crack, or make fingerpuppets out of napkins. I don’t know what the hell they are doing back there, but they are not helping the story. I’ve had another idea, a type of female character I’ve wanted to write for a while. So when I submitted a peice to be critiqued at school I wrote something new, something that made me happy, something I had fun writing. The peice was well recieved. My DeMentor lead the workshop where we cut it to peices, but overall, they liked it. And I like that they liked it. And then the DeMentor turned to me and said, “You are changing your thesis to this, right?”

I smiled. The bastard was right. Book 2 has not been fun to write. However this new thing has been. And I’m getting all crazy and writing in first person (Calie is going to kick my ass for this because I generally hate 1st person, but she’s doing it pretty well… maybe I can too). So that will be what I’m working on for the next 6 months.

Oh, and I got an iPad. I LOVE IT.

I think that covers most of the madness in the last few weeks. I should get back to working on things that need to be completed. My life is going to be wicked busy come these next few months. Things I am looking forward to: World Fantasy Con, the Willamette Writers con thingy in August, dealing with some family stuff, a trip to Seattle with a close friend, and my freaking birthday. I don’t care much for the birthday, but the rest of it will rock. Now, back to your regularly scheduled madness….

Two things:

1. That is my former GM, who makes me freaking laugh.

2. Yes, that is me cackling like a loon in the background.

I will admit to keeping one out. It’s about my birthdaughter and was intended on being a private post. And it was from last summer. Some know the details, but I have no right to write about her in such a public setting if I am sharing such things.

But here are the rest. They are in a random order. The bold parts were the blog titles. Enjoy.

Day 4 – Leslie B. - I still think that painting had cows coming out of a gold sky, not more fucking angels. Pretzels, barefoot, and the same questions every semester. You make me miss school.

Little intrusions into our life – I am still quite annoyed that IE doesn’t have spell check. I sound like a moron, with all these typos (and apparently I spell lightning – lightening…. I dunno. It made sense).

My soul is whole – He’s home. We got a call from a nice guy who lives a few blocks away from us.

Tearing my hair out and sweating – I’ve been silent because I’ve been writing. It’s slow going, honestly. I spent many nights just sitting in front of my computer, trying to figure out what I needed the story to do. Then I lost my mentor’s e-mail address. It’s just been a fucking mess. The good thing is that I’ve got 30 pages due on August 10th, and I am starting a writing schedule. No more dicking around, god damnit (I’m in a cursing mood…. feh).Before you ask, no I’m not working. We will discuss that later. I would like to talk about my birthday. It fucking rocked. Alexis came down from Tacoma, C came over, and Amanda got to Portland that very day, so we all bounced downtown for some dinner. It was a good meal.

I’m awake before noon - I don’t know if WordPress (and my site for that matter) has changed the time when I blog, although its been so infrequent lately. But, ladies and gentle-dorks, I would like to talk about sleep. It’s three, sometimes four in the morning before I hit the hay. It’s weird to think that many of my Florida friends are already at work, or getting ready by the time I get to sleep. The sunset/sunrise times have also thrown me off. When we moved here, it wasn’t getting dark until after 9:45, and then the sun would rise super early

Privacy - There are some things that I think I need to hash out, mostly with myself. That being said, I’ve noticed an increase in traffic from “unknowns” and I know who, at least some of them, are. So, in order to protect those I love, I am going to lock a few things down for a while. There’s a lot of trauma in my family right now, strife between the members and things that shouldn’t be said out loud. I’m not closing my mouth at all, but I won’t allow my opinions to become ammunition against those I love. If there’s a locked post, it will have its usual password (if you don’t l know it — e-mail me).

The trip is almost over. Lex and I are in a hotel room in Idaho.

Running out - It’s official. I am out of meds. What to do? I’ve spoken with D about it and we agreed that I could go to walgreens and get raped for my lamictal, but the healthier (heheh… interesting how that works out eh?) option is to try to control my manic depression on my own. How? Diet, exercise, honest observation of triggers, making myself sleep and …and just trying to pay attention. I won’t go batshit immediately because I do have a decent buildup in my system, but the chemical protection will erode with time, and in about a month, I will be without any kind of chemical help. This wasn’t a choice I wanted to make. My insurance ran out with my last job, and I fluffed the system enough to give me a little leeway until we got to Portland. But, I still don’t have a job. So, no help with the meds. It would cost more than our car payment for my medications…. how fucking insane is that ?

I’ve not talked about grad school much here. I’m setting up a seperate (see: proper) blog for my book reviews and such. But I really feel lost sometimes.

Cutout - First day – I had first day of work jitters last night. Would they like me? Can I do the job? Do they have good coffee (my prior place of employment had shite coffee)? D called at 8:10, but by that time my two alarms had already interrupted my sad attempts to fall back to sleep. I stayed up too late, worrying. And so when the morning came, I wanted to go back to sleep, like I have been doing for months. But that was a no-go.

When I got to the office, coffee and water in hand, I was greeted by my boss, who we will call P, and the GM named A. I met everyone else, smiled, waved, and then almost fell out of my seat when P began dictating the list of things I had to accomplish. Then he left, and I realized, with shame, that I didn’t know how to do anythign on the list, so I started small and arranged my desk. It’s not that the job will be hard, because it won’t, but getting the hang of a new system of protocols, rules and regulations will take time.

Links - * The Ironman trailer — D’s excited. I’m less than thrilled. The flying scene does look really nice, but I don’t know about the rest of it.
* We watched the trailer for the Bionic Woman. I had high hopes (I still love Battlestar), but it looked like crap. The story was poorly executed and the characters felt super flat. I think that they should take their time developing the characters, because then it makes for a deeper connection. Perhaps these issues had something to do with the problems with the show. Then again — it could just be crap.

When it rains…. - Jeezus. So, it’s been a busy little trek through the life of me. On top of family issues, tension in the home, and conflicts/issues with extended family connection — welll I feel like I’m drowning.

I need valium - Or a stiff cocktail.

It’s snowing!! - I am cooking lunch, wearing my purple fuzzy socks and a smile. Oh, and clothes too. Perverts.

for me – I’m fucking angry, and I don’t think that I need to submit the rest of you to this, but there’s a lot that’s pissing me off right now, so this will be protected.

my family is pissing me off… specifically my stepfather. For the first timein my life I realized that I’ve never really had a father.

Ketchup… – Or catch-up. which ever you prefer.

The halloween party was a hit. I dressed up as a white trash preggers person, with curlers in my hair and all.

Do we still need animal testing? – And does it really work?

I don’t know, and am scared to ask, what kind of trails were used for my meds. There have been several cases recently where drugs

Is this fair? – I know that you still speak with the one that slighted me. And I thought that I was a grown-up about it, but I’m not. How can you even think to associate with someone who hurt a person you care about? Anne had it right — you should choose. I’ve tried to be the bigger person here, but I’m immature when it comes to this kind of thing. You are going to keep her in your life, keep contacting her although she took you for granted and used you. And it pisses me off to no end. Where is the loyalty? Why is this such a problem for me? And I know you will keep talking to her, no matter how fucked up that situation was. And I know that you will keep her around, and I know that it will effect our relationship because I don’t believe in supporting someone or being friends with someone who is such a cunt.

I told you how I felt about it. and perhaps I should be clear about things. Perhaps I should stop bullshitting you, but I’ve tried to be the bigger person and its not working.

Where you sleep – My sister wanted to sleep between D and I. I told her that the dogs already had that position — chastity beagles. She said she would “woof” if we wanted. My sister is twisted and she always makes me giggle. There was lots of family conversation last night, but the most important thing was the solidification of the plans for May. I am graduating in a few months. I am scared. But my family is going to stay at mi casa for the 5 days they are going to be in town. Cat’s trip is shorter than she first thought, but we are going to drag her and Jewlie to dinner at Babbos. (there will be no argument Cat!). I was very proud of myself yesterday. I bought a queen sized mattress for someone to stay on. I am planning ahead. Go me!

I accidentally put too much sugar in my coffee. Gah!

I have my first midterm today. These years, this point, so close to completion, I am fucking terrified.

Dark to Light:

On an introspective note – We are coming up on the 3 month mark until the move. The plans for homes and jobs and such are coming together. But I realized yesterday, I won’t see summer with Seemore. The other students at Rollins are talking about summer classes and bitching about the lack of Humanities cores available in the fall.

I thought about it while I drove – Do Conservatives write poetry? Does the Christian Right (wrong) find inspiration from writing verse or essays that are reflective or creative versus bombastic condemnation with poorly chosen metaphors?

Changes to come – I am learning a lot more about the abilities and possibilities with WordPress,

Walking on Sunshine – I called my mother, my daughter’s family, my sister, my brother, and a few friends and told them all about my good news. My birthdaughter seemed only slightly impressed. I was happy to hear that she’s no longer failing Science, and that she got an A in PE. Did I ever tell you how I used to get bad grades in PE because I wouldn’t dress out ? Seems the apple and the tree have something in common. The Birthdaughter and her mother are going to Australia on Saturday. I’m jealous. She offered to take me along.

Boogers and fleas - Good god. My head is killing me. K i l l i n g …. meeeeeee. I would like to crawl into a hole and die right now. It’s making my eyes tired. I’m nauseous. Does anyone have a drill so I can relieve the pressure? An axe? An exacto knife? please?

I’ve had this headache for two days now. It started before I left work yesterday, and although I love my Composite Novel class, I had to squint through the pain. I thought sushi would cure my ailment. It didn’t. I pouted for the rest of the night. It doesn’t help that the beasties has fleas.

So, I am going to whine now. Ready? You sure?

What you won’t hear - Mom called last night, just to tell me she was calling not to bitch. I talked to her the other night, and she did bitch. I don’t mind those conversations. I enjoy them, actually. Although she’s my parental unit, she’s also one of my closest friends, so it feels good when she calls to bitch. But you won’t hear me relay the details of those conversations. I wouldn’t know what to tell you. Our family, like so many others, has bumps and bruises and scars and imperfections and all those other nasties that no one likes to talk about. Through the addictions, denials, abuse and fear – we came to love each other, building around the scars, and coming up with something amazingly flawed but clean. Our conversations often analyze the bits of our family that don’t work.

She’s always questioning my meds. When I told her that I was taking myself off the Seroquel, she balked. But she doesn’t have to watch me tear through the fog every morning. She knows I’m not a morning person, but that shit adds a level of fuzziness that’s almost too hard to overcome. I think she fears for my sanity, but often forgets that I have D to remind me to eat and sleep and breathe and relax. Not that I am completly incapable, but it’s good to have that voice and embrace to stabalize things. But, you won’t hear us talk about her depression or her drinking.

Untitled - Search back, deep in those memories blurred by time. Think of ice cream and running barefoot in the street. What did the sun feel like when you were a child? When you carried little and understood even less.

*snicker* - So, they are trying to lock down the internets at work. First, they finagled with my Windows Media Player downloads, then they started blocking radio sites altogether. I find this amusing for two reasons. One: if you have any kind of creativity and you know how to use Google, then you can usually bypass this kind of crap.

Recap – I spent Friday on the couch. Why? Jager. Jager is evil and we are still not sure how many actual shots I had. But I had a lot of Blackthorn, and I laughed and cried a lot. The afternoon started off with a bang. I went to ABC and bought some wine, and then met the class at the Woolson House for the last class. We were supposed to have a read-around, and we did, but I pulled blog posts and cried because one was about my birthdaughter. I heard lots of wonderful stories, and one of my compadres, Kyle, read poetry. His words amazed me. You can’t buy talent like his. So, class started to end, and I felt the tears and emotion well up. I was okay until I hugged Dr. Dunn. She made me cry.

Full time veggie – It’s not hard being a vegetarian in Portland. Most restaurants don’t just accommodate, they take pride in their vegetarian options. If they don’t have something specifically for vegetarians, most are willing to rework a dish or two to satisfy us. I am a full time vegetarian. I had been for many years, a part time vegetarian. I would like to say it was a moral choice, and admittedly, it was to some degree.  But most of what kept me from eating meat was the amount of cash it took to make such dinners. And cleaning flesh, be it deboning chicken thighs, or cutting the gristle off a steak, grossed me the fuck out. The only thing I loved to cook and eat meat wise was bacon. Yes, I know it’s the french fries of the meat world – little (or no) nutritional value, full of fat and cholesterol.

But it tasted so damn good.

Coffee - Some rituals beg for a re-try. Julie, Cat and I used to have weekly coffee at the Barnies (now a Starbucks) in the plaza on Bumby and Colonial. We’d talk about relationships, school, etc. You know, the nice bs that makes friendships run. But Cat moved and that tradition died. Julie and I always intended to meet for coffee again, but we ended meeting at school, as that was the easiest place since we were both there so much. Last night Julie and I met back at the old Barnies and talked about the next 6 weeks. She’s due when we leave.

D would like this chocolate figure more than any other. I wonder if I can do this with dark chocolate? Hmmm..

the boxes build - My hand has hurt all week, and I don’t know why. I was hesitant to go back to the doc, because I know they would just say it is carpal tunnel, but there’s something really wrong this time. My grip is weak. My fingers are shooting with pain, not constantly, but its there. It is hard to type. I hate this.

With the futon gone, the front room is quickly becoming the center of the move. Boxes of books tower over boxes yet to be filled and it si all starting to scare me now. Things seem kind of uncertain. Did I mention that we have too many books? I haven’t been able to touch the other stuff, the knick knacks and whatnots, but there will not be enough boxes to contain it all. Dumpster diving is in my future…unless…. you know where I can find boxes. Do you?

We found more stuff to get rid of. I’ll post a list here.

Overheard - You gotta watch out for Jamaicans. They’ll shoot you. They ain’t got no remorse.

—

What was your GPA?

3.5 something

That’s crap!

Good morning headache - I feel all whiney. Gah!

D and I watched Pan’s Labyrinth last night. There’s a silly litte story about getting the movie (and I want the soundtrack!!). D, because he is the greatest husband ever, bought the movie for me last week when it came out. He thought he bought the two disk edition. The packaging was misleading and we found that he bought the normal versions.

Sore sore sore – I’m walking funny from Tuesday’s class, and tonight I am going to hop around like a monkey and try to stretch these aching legs of mine out.

Day 44 – 54 -  Regarding Families – I’m way behind with this, because of Grannie’s death and my inability to put fingertip to keyboard. This is the Meow playing catch up again. Deal with it

Day 44 -Dude from Jet Blue

I wrote down your name so I could tell Jet Blue how much you rocked. Your unusual name has been lost with a discarded boarding pass. Lex and I meant well.

Day 45 -Meredith

What a woman you are about to become. I see the bitchy tomboy in you, and understand why the fights with your brothers. Someday, everyone will grow up, and you’ll be friends.

Day 46 – Tommy

You remind me of my brother, gargantuan smartass. I see you trying to struggle outside the shadow of your brother. The Air Force will give you wings. Use them well.

Day 47 – Michael

Oldest, like me, so I’m allowed to say this. It’s time for you to grow up and show our family what you are capable of. You still need to earn “Bartz.”

Day 48 – Martha

I didn’t expect what I got. I admit I was wrong about you. While we are vastly different, there’s commonality. I’ve grown up and you’ve grown more tolerant. Isn’t’ it interesting?

Day 49 – Charlie

Aloof, but so proud of your wife. I cried when I watched you and Mom dance. Distant, but eager to share love and memories. And you have great taste in wine.

Day 50 – Riley

The little DJ, the sensitive, understanding, loving one. You have the best of our family in your heart. It’s going to be hard growing up, but remember your family loves you.

Day 51 – Zach

The big brother, smartass like the rest of us, tall, wicked grins, full of mischief and energy. You were a great host, and too entertained by the Garcia kids’ bad language.

Day 52 – Claire

Day 53 – Gramps

Day 54 – Marybeth

the outfit – The interview went really well. I’m not tooting my own horn, but interviews are my forete. It’s the resume shit that takes me forever to work out. But the company is teensy, and piggybacked on a larger company based in Canada. I would be working with a subcontractor

Bringing you up to date – Lots of things to talk about, but I’m focusing on the good stuff. I spent so much time bitchign about things that I (and others) can forget what grace is given to us.

Welcome to the beaglehouse – We got the house. We move on Friday. This is the bigger of the two houses, the one I was talking about on Friday. It’s very exciting, the whole moving thing. What isn’t so exicting is that the landlady decided she was going to try to pull her ass out of the fire and sell the house before the bank siezes it. Nice thing to do, but she sent over a realtor on Saturday with a prospective buyer. I thought she was comng.

Worried – I moved from Florida for a lot of reasons that don’t really need to be reiterated. The weather in Portland is gentle, nurturing, and rarely violent. And sometimes I forget how spectacular thunder is. But I won’t ever forget Hurricane Charley, ever.

Now Hurricane Gustav is roaring in the Gulf, heading for Cuba, and some of his rain bands are effecting Central Florida – where I still have friends and family. There won’t be a direct hit on our old stomping grounds, but the bastards is headed for a direct confrontation with Louisana, and especially New Orleans.

Close the door - And in the final throes of insincerity and lack of compassion, I listen to people in my office talk about how Spanish is an offensive language, and that the inclusion of foreign languages in American society is a result of lazy immigrants. Of course, they didn’t say such with any word more than two syllables and in a dictionary for lazy American speakers with little education and narrow minds.

Today, I am glad that I am leaving. Friday can’t come fast enough. In a panic, although I gave my notice a full month ago, the office is swirling around because there’s a shit load of work on my desk and not enough time to do it in. I tried to care, I really did. But the nazi, who gave me a card some months ago telling me how proud she was of me, pushed herself into my peripheral vision and refused to say anything to me until I pulled the headphone out of my ear. I’m not classically organized. I know where most of my stacks are and what they mean. I don’t have labeled folders and tabbed files. Piles work for me. She’s always been horrified by my lack of “organization.” Well have fun, lady. You can hire whomever tickles your pickle. But I would love to be a fly on the wall when I go. They will talk the most heinous shit. I’m not going to be here to intimidate, bully and protect. It’s easy to kill the memory of me. It’s harder to do it to the person. But I’m not concerned. I did my best to be a good person. It didn’t work all the time, but I tried.

What I won’t miss

• The continual comments about the inferior nature of the immigrant populous and how they are polluting our society — you know what, motherfucker? Go work on a roof in Baldwin Park, send most of your money back to your family, and work every day from sunup until sunset, and then bitch. Add insecurity of being in a foreign culture, of being looked down upon, and then tell me your attitude is justified.
• Defending my vegetarianism and belief in animal rights —- I don’t care if you hunt animals.

One more nail in the coffin – Talked to the overlord/property manager last night. I swear to god, baby jeezus and all those fun-loving saints that this woman only likes to talk to me and hates D. Which is strange. I’m the bitchy one in the family. Anway, our conversation went well. She needed an end date for our lease, and in a surprising move of generosity, never made us sign an addendum for the extension. I guess living there for three years, paying our rent on time, not freaking out when the roof got shorn to shit in Hurricane Charley, fixing things without bothering them and not pissing off the neighbors has payed off. I also asked her for a recommendation, because as much as it chaps my ass, we are going to have to rent when we get to Portland. Logistally, it makes the most sense. But she has an end date now, and I’ve promised smiles and cooperation. It’s not smart to leave things on bad terms, even when she did show up that one time, unannounced. That visit cost us 350 bucks! It’s hard to hide a second beagle. My parental units are overlords property owners, so I should know better. Oh well. I just hope they don’t try to bleed the rock dry when we move. We can’t afford it.

Snips of an update – This is going to be in bullet form because I’m  still working my assy off and trying to get everything done while working full time. What a pain in the ass! (but a good one)

• Wool Coats – I thought we were headed for the heart of autumn, D and I hunted for winter coats. We bought some half assed coats last fall and froze through most of the cooler weather. This time I found a great wool coat that complements my womanly figure. I love it. It’s heavy, black, military inspired, but more fashionable. I think all that time off watching “What Not to Wear” really rubbed off on me.
• I Heart my iPhone – D and I did what irresponsible people do and finally switched phone companies with that 2k check I received from Rollins. I have wanted an iPhone since they came out, and by George, we got em. And it is as spiffy and groovy as I thought it would be. The funny part, in a not so funny kind of way, is that the functionality that I ached for – being able to check e-mail, facebook, websites, without detection, is an unnecessary thing now. My current employers don’t give a shit where I go to, as long as I get the job done. But it’s good to have the capabilities with GPS. I’ve already used it once …..while on my bike…. and no, you are not allowed to laugh.
• The Job – so I think I already stated that I took the job with the laid-back solar company. If you got creative, you could figure out which one it is, suffice to say, I love it. It’s so fucking busy that I get there  and I get to 11 or 12 and realize I haven’t finished my coffee, my apple or all the phone calls I need to make. Laid back is not EVEN close to the truth there, but for all their laid back ways, they are very serious about the business. There is also a shop dog – Brutus, who is a springer spaniel. He’s my work boyfriend. Overall it’s really unorganized (which is why I got hired), laid back, bike friendly, and the easiest commute of my life. And the people, I love the people so far. I think a few of them could become good friends.
• Biking – I have biked to work, and got lost trying to come home. Yes, only me. Suck it. I can’t bike this week due to the monthly rebellion of my uterus, but I will get back in the saddle shortly.
• I’m on Googlemaps – if you google my address, go down my side street, you will see me sitting on the porch, smoking. It’s from last summer. Just to make sure, I had Streetview slide down the street a little further, and sure as shit, there was our car. I don’t know why, but it amused me.
• The Green Microgym - I joined a gym, but one with a special twist. Go to the link, and you will see what I mean. It’s about 20 blocks from the house, an easy bike ride, and I plan on taking advantage of their REALLY killer hours. The Owner, Adam, was super nice and very excited about the battery systems on the bikes. When I told him I worked for a solar company, we kind of geeked out about watts and whatnot. I’m a total dork, but I thought it was right to support a local business trying to make a difference. Besides, I got in on the introductory deal and my membership is less than 30 bucks a month for the life of the membership. How can I go wrong?

I didn’t do it.. – I didn’t watch the debate. I should have. Then I could participate in all the great conversations everyone is having today. D and I went to the Blue Moose on Fremont and had our normal Wednesday dinner. We were the only ones in the place. I think most people watched the debate. But I didn’t have to! I have Twitter! I watched everyone’s reaction while I munched on my dinner and drank my wine. Honestly, I meant to record it, but what’s done is done.

My BIL is leaving for an overseas tour a lot sooner than expected. He’s not a front-lines kind of guy, but he will be in danger. The whole fucking region is a war zone and scares me. She’s being the stoic air force wife, knowing she will have to rally without him. We joke, because D and I have a hard time being apart. when I go away for school, it’s difficult. We are joined at the forehead. But Lex and G are fine, moving through the relationship wiht all the bumps and bruises that come with deployment.

Keeping it positive - My job – I am a part of something bigger. The standards by which most people measure success would not apply with this job. The pay hasn’t pissed me off yet, but I haven’t gotten my first paycheck. I know, soon, I will get moved into more responsibility. Right now, I’m treading water, but it feels good. My coworkers are all very different from places I’ve worked before – they are cynical but hopeful, funny but dark, and always prone to blaming something on “your mother.” There are very few people in the office most of the day, but those people make me laugh. And I found out the woman they hired before me bailed after day 2. I kind of understand. The place isn’t organized. And I lost sleep the first few days. The rhythm of chaos feels strange to me. There are no protocols on how to do things, no lists, no set of parameters. While on one end, it’s freeing, I realize I like structure, which is weird to admit. I started today less filled with panic, and took a risk by taking charge. It’s working for me, and the office. At least, no one’s bitching to my face yet.

Biking to work – Today, I biked to work. And it took me ten minutes to get there. It took me almost a half hour to get home though. I was carrying a bag, riding with wind, and going up a big frackin’ hill. D told me I will get faster, and I know I will. Start small. It’s the best place to start.

Cold Toes… – It’s lovely today.

**** Okay so this is going to take a couple days to finish. But that’s the start of the housecleaning. More to follow later. I hope you had a lovely new year

Oh, fuck it. The reason I keep all those damn books is that it makes me feel smart. I’ve read easily 80% of them, but the read to unread ratio has grown larger due to Powell’s and our monthly travels to their two bookstores. You can’t buy just one book – at least, I can’t. Even if that book is a massive tome on the Renaissance or a historical analysis of geisha culture, I always have to buy at least two books. I think I need a 12 step program.

And I’m not complaining about this. I love my books. I just don’t love moving them. But what I do love is that in our new house, I have those built in bookshelves in my office. Thank god. Now we may need to only buy 1 bookshelf from Ikea.

Oh, and if you didn’t know already (I twittered about this last week) we got the house on Wygant. We are signing the lease on Friday and moving on Saturday. The one teensy, weensy problem with moving on Saturday – everyone I know is going to a holiday party that day. That means there isn’t one person, except my lovely sister, who can help us out. We are still planning on moving on Saturday, if you are local – I can provide pizza (Bella Faccia), beer (Laurelwood growlers — I’m getting the Red or the Vinter Varmer) and undying gratitude.

My house looks like a cardboard factory spat up in it. Progress is slow. I didn’t realize how many mason jars I had until I tried to pack them all. And holygod, do I ever need to whittle down the number of water bottles we own. My big concern in the moving process is getting the washer and dryer up from the basement, but that is why man invented the dolly.

And now, to wake the hubby and plan for lunch. Have a happy Tuesday.

For Calie and all my friends…… James Taylor —

When youre down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, whoa nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name,
And you know whereever I am
Ill come running, oh yeah baby
To see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall,
All you have to do is call
And Ill be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Youve got a friend.

If the sky above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together and call my name out loud
And soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name and you know where ever I am
Ill come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you got to do is call
And Ill be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, aint it good to know that youve got a friend?
People can be so cold.
Theyll hurt you and desert you.
Well theyll take your soul if you let them.
Oh yeah, but dont you let them.

You just call out my name and you know wherever I am
Ill come running to see you again.
Oh babe, dont you know that,
Winter spring summer or fall,
Hey now, all youve got to do is call.
Lord, Ill be there, yes I will.
Youve got a friend.
Youve got a friend.
Aint it good to know youve got a friend.
Aint it good to know youve got a friend.
Youve got a friend.

I’m following a few new people on Twitter who are involved with the NaNoWriMo project I’m so excited!

And I got my schedule to volunteer at Wordstock. I am going to take classes around the scheduled volunteer work. So much to do…. sheesh.

And my husband is the awesome. He bought me Fable 2. But I’m not touching it, not even opening it until after the deadline (Nov 1). It’s going to kill me. I will die of Fable-inabilitytoplaydisease. Really. I’m serious.

I’m gym bound this evening. Have a loverly night.

1. Finish writing the last chapters of my novel
2. Edit said chapters
3. Finish all the reading for school
4. Blog about the books I read
5. Ask someone about my financial aid

I have two weeks to complete that. Then, we have our normal, everyday things to do. You know:

• Feed the beasts
• Try not to kill beasts for being beastly.
• Work, every day
• Workout – at least 4 times a week
• Sleep, somehow
• Cook, because D won’t. He told me it’s safer for everyone involved. I think he just doesn’t want to.

While I am prone to panic, I’m trying not to. But this is fair warning to all my lovely online, school, and IRL friends – I will be a hermit for the next 2 weeks.

Text – do not call.

Text – do not e-mail.

Did I mention texting? If you don’t have my number – I guess you can e-mail me. No guarantees though. Oh, and I live on Twitter these days. It’s the easiest way to keep an eye on me (a nice way of saying spying).

D and I had a nice weekend, considering I spend a vast majority of it on the couch, with a dog, fighting for room and my blanket while I edited Calie’s stuff (her novel is fucking amazing). We found a new restaurant, pissed off Voodoo, walked the beasties, worked on homework, and talked.

D and I spent a lovely Friday dinner at The Blue Olive. We intended on venturing to a wine bar down the street, but balked when I saw how little vegetarian food they had. D and I were really freaking hungry. When we walked through the door, a dark haired woman with nice glasses greeted us. The dining room was mostly empty, but two tables were full of diners, loudly enjoying their plates of food. D and I both selected the Mediterranean platters – with hummus, pita, falafel, a Greek salad (full of cucumbers and tomatoes), roasted potatoes and a spinach and feta pastry (I know the name, my brain is misfiring at the moment. Need more coffee). The falafel – to die for. Crunchy, warm, well flavored, and the tzatziki reminded me of a place I used to go to in Miami. The hummus, a heaping helping of it, was seasoned beautifully thick and creamy. Honestly, there was a lot of food on the plate, although it didn’t look like much when we started. We also had a Malbec (yes I forgot the name of that too), which the owner had just added to the menu. D and I waddled out of there – overstuffed and blissfully happy.

On Saturday, we made a boo boo. Since we moved, we had a queen sized bed. It wasn’t that bad, but it started hurting D’s back. Then Pip decided he was supposed to sleep with us. I wouldn’t necessarily let him into bed, but he snuck under the covers – all stealthy ninja like. He’s a ninja beagle – I’ve said it before. So, I would wake up, sweating, because a 10000 degree beagle had wrapped himself around my feet. I also have a very different sleeping schedules.  The moral of the story is that I sleep on the couch a lot. Being that he gets up at 5, I don’t want to wake him. But we are tired of sleeping apart. He was tired of the never ending back ache. So, we went to look at beds.

Which means, we bought a bed.

I don’t know why I can’t just say “Hey, we are just shopping.” I think I’m allergic to sales people. The guy wasn’t an ass. He didn’t push the 3k bed on us (thank god, because I would have smacked him). We got a great deal on a king size bed.

Problem?

Yes. Puck is having a hard time jumping up to the bed. I know we don’t want the dogs sleeping with us, but they usually crash in the bedroom while we are gone. Puck has his own bed next to ours (he refuses to sleep with us), but I feel bad. He’s just not as sprightly as he used to be. And the bed is freaking tall. I used to laugh at the infomercials, but we are buying doggy stairs. If you call my dog geriatric, I will find you and thrash you with his lobster toy.

In other mundane and painfully boring news – I bought a crock pot! It’s been in the box for about a week. I really should do something with it.

Did I mention that I only have 2 weeks to finish all this stuff.

Let the panic begin!

• Being a part-time vegetarian? I think being more conscious of your eating habits, and knowing where you get your nutrients from is a good thing. That’s not to say that all vegetarians give a cow’s ass where their cheese came from, or whether or not their lettuce is organic. I do pay attention, close attention these days. I’m an ethical vegetarian. If it had a face, I’m not going to eat it. That’s why eggs (chicken abortions, as the sick joke goes) are okay. I don’t drink milk because it makes me fart. I do eat cheese because it’s tasty (but I try to be a good girl about where it comes from). Now the idea of part-time vegetarianism interested me, but I think slapping a complicated name like Flexitarianism is kind of a bullshit way of saying “I eat less meat and don’t care if there’s anchovy past in the caesar dressing.” Do you really need a unique name for someone who is more conscious of what they put in their bodies? I don’t think you do … personally, I think that should just be human nature. But I also realize that I am at an income bracket where being selective about what I eat is easy. When I was broke (brizzzzzoke), it was harder. But I think all people, even those with less money, should seek out quality ingredients, and bring more green to the table. No everyone has to be a vegetarian, but if you are more conscious of what you eat, I’ll call you anything you want – including a flexitarian (which by the way, sounds like some kind of contortionist from Cirque).
• Bill Mahr vs …well even the View – I’m a big fan of his. I think he’s got some “interesting” things to say, but on the whole, I shout praise at the TV every time I watch him. His opinion on religion is not one that I share, if you were wondering. No, I did not drink the Jesus juice, but I do believe there is something other than us out there, and I’ve never been so egotistical as to assign it a name, but I do believe in an “other” or an “us”… it depends on my mood. Bill Mahr takes issue with the literal translation of the bible. That Jeezycreezy jumped up out of the grave after 3 days is biologically impossible. And if God’s telling you to do something, you may want to see a shrink. I agree with him because I think most of the major worlds religions are twisted into rhetoric instead of healing. Extremist Christians live in this great country, and if you are in the right part of the country (unintended pun there), you couldn’t turn a corner without seeing 13295743 churches on one street. I don’t care that Sherri Shepherd believes in zombie Jesus day. Good for her. But I do care that this country has changed with the upsurge of the Christian right.
• A great interview with the Remember the Milk’s cofounder – I’m really starting to embrace all the little apps that help make my life easier. It’s much easier now that I have an iPhone, but I used RTM with my little Pebbl. It was clunky but efficient. RTM is still one of the best apps out there for task management.
• I offically hate Miley – Sweetheart, when you were still boogying to your daddy’s craptastic music, I was at Disney with the gays. Gay Days is THE BEST day to go to Disney, even if you aren’t “one of the family.” I went with a gaggle of gay boys I knew from my bar, and we rode Space Mountain (you have never heard screaming until you have a train full of gay boys in the dark….and I didn’t mean that as literally as it sounded). We got wet, tired, dirty, sunburned, and I met some of the most amazing people ever. And the party didn’t stop there. That’s a post for another time. But the point is that Gay Days has become an institution. Disney defended it in a kind of roundabout manner some years ago when the Christian Right swore to boycott. And now, it’s just something that happens every year. I think it should have been respected. But, Miley is their bitch, their progeny, their moneymaker – and if Cinderella wants the gays to go, then she gets her wish. —— I hope her party sucks.
• Divorce Cakes – Just one question – why are most of them bloody?
• I love Heroes, and I really, really, really love the music.Good music is iconic. Hum a few bars of the Indiana Jones theme and watch people perk up (and it’s been stuck in my head for months since I’ve been playing the Lego version), or the ominous sounds of Vader’s theme. Music can be forceful, and perk up plots that would otherwise feel shallow. The music in Heroes doesn’t overwhelm, it typifies. It doesn’t prop up plot, rather it adds dimension. I can’t wait to get the score!
• From Since You Asked on Salon – Sarah Palin is Ruining My Life – I won’t go as far as to say she’s ruined my life, but I’ve had to pull away from the election for a bit. It’s been abusive, nasty, and hypocritical. Eternally an idealist, I think the harsh realities of modern politics turns my stomach. I’m too gentle a creature (stop laughing, or I will thwap you) to deal with the madness. Can’t we all just get along? But I’m realizing we can’t. I work with people who think the same way I do. I live and talk with people who echo my feelings. We all really despise the Republican ticket. But there are the others, friends and family, who don’t agree. Is the divisive nature of the modern political world eating them up to? Is there a way around the bullshit name calling and lies?

Beagles are done eating. It’s time for homework.

Entering Wordcamp I was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. They announced that they would let more people in, and I’m glad. I almost registered too late, intending on going, but trying to convince myself not to go because I wouldn’t know a soul there. We got t-shirts, name tags (I put my site address there, but I should have just put my Twitter name — EVERYONE was adding everyone to their twitter feed), and went into largest room for the first presentation. I could go through the entire run down, but it’s already been done, and more eloquently that I could write it. Oh, and if you look at the picture, I’m in there, messing with my freaking iPhone trying to take pictures. I should have just carried my Nikon with me.

So things I learned at Wordcampdx:

• Twitter is my friend.
• Stopping traffic on Grand Ave. is a lot of fun.
• I’ve only scratched the surface with what WordPress can do.
• I need to make a stronger web presence (for both my sites).
• Portland is full of very friendly, helpful people who don’t make you feel stupid for asking questions.
• I’m obsessed with the stats tracker on my site, and Woopra is going to make it worse, but in the best way possible.
• Live blogging is fun, but I was too busy taking notes to do it.
• There are a lot of really cool, geeky women out there.
• Pita and falaffel are the food of the gods.
• Widmer makes great beer (I already knew this, but the keggers helped remind me).
• WordPress 2.7 is going to rock.

I have a lot of work to do today for my novel, so I am going to get to it, but yesterday was one of the best days ever. And while I didn’t make it to the afterparty at the GreenDragon, I will make it to the other events there.

And I think I had a dream about blogging.

I couldn’t.

I worked.

But I did hear the bullshit, even with Thievery Corporation blaring. On a good note, at least my website’s pretty. And so off to Wordcampdx I go tomorrow, with new shoes for my little site.

Lots of blogging in the morning…why? Because that’s what tomorrow’s all about.  But I do have to get up at 7 or so. I don’t even get up that early for work!

I’m wearing my cute shoes too!

• The Best Compliment – I finished Calie’s critique way late. I’ve been way late for most of this term, either to to emotional issues (it’s hard to write about hope when you don’t have any), technical issues, or life issues. The thing I’ve realized is that no matter how shitty my life gets, I can’t drag her into my mess. She deserves a good crit partner, and since we decided to go as a 2 person team, I’m all she’s got school wise (beyond her fucking amazing mentor). I sat down, over the course of several days, and critted the hell out of her story. I love the premise, and the world. I think she and I have similar problems in getting into a deeper POV, but she’s got an amazingly twisted mind and a fluid writing style. I read the submission all the way through several times so that I could digest things properly. When all was said and done and I turned it in to her, I waited for the e-mail saying “Moody, you bitch! Can’t you do this well?” but what I got was “You are the best crit partner ever.” She understand that my inclination to pick out things and ask questions is not beating up the story, it’s about dissecting it to make it a better story. It feels really good when someone understands and appreciates your intentions
• Going to #Wordcampdx tomorrow - I’m painfully nervous. I won’t know anyone, but I am braving the wilds anyway. What is it? Look and see. I hope to meet some interesting people, learn more about the abilities of WordPress, and figure out how to make my writing site more interesting. I’ve been on MoodayMeow since 2003 in some ideration or another, but if I plan on becoming a professional writer when I grow up (which will be when I turn 50, I’ve decided… I have a few years) then I need to establish a professional, interesting web presence. And I love social media, so joining my blog and twitter or the other technology crack I’m addicted to — it’s good stuff. Oh! And there’s a copyright section! I had plans to put parts of my book up, but worried about copyright. Hopefully this will answer some questions. It’s an all-day event, and it won’t leave me much time for editing my own writing, but the deadline’s not till Tuesday. I should be okay.
• I had more to write, but I’m crazy busy. Maybe tomorrow?

“Mmmm beans. You need the protien. Vegetarians don’t get enough protien”

But my rational side said….

“You just want a vehicle for salsa and sour cream”

And my stomach, well… we all know what the answer was.

So, what was today’s class that the worldscoolestgym? I think it should be called ’100 ways an out of shape person could die” but it’s also called “Bodypower.” My body’s power was eating today, not running around a block, doing jumping jacks, or the plank or the other horridly wonderful excersises she made us do. The class was small again, just those of us from the night before plus the trainer and two more people. We did have a good time. Nicole, the manager, and I goofed off again. That girl makes me laugh. Laughing is all well and good, but not when you are trying to work out. I think we were the bad kids in class.

And because I’m a glutton for punishment – Friday it’s boot camp. Huzzah! I am on my way to my new tattoo – but how to choose? Getting my chest fixed and added on to? The wine/plant sleeve? The Ed and Ein on a scooter tattoo? How to choose?

I will tell you right now. By this time next year, I will be one sexy-ass, heavily tattooed babe.

Oh, and I fucking love my iPhone and I don’t know how I lived without one for so long.

But now….sleeeeeeeeeeeeep.

The gym is a small place, but it feels homey, like I stepped into someone’s private studio. The harsh flourescents, highlighting all your insecurities, are exchanged for softer light, or none at all. The key to the gym is keeping the power consumption down. Oh, and I was the only one to sign up for the Biggest Loser class. Karen, the gym manager, Adam the owner and another woman (who was super freaking nice but I forgot her name…the only reason I remembered the other names was because I looked it up on the site) and I all climbed onto the machinery, chatted, got a little winded, and moved our tushies for two hours. I felt elated. I still feel elated. There’s another class, which will be outdoors tomorrow that I hope to get into.

And now, I must sleep.

Go to a photography class – Miss Amandapants gave me the best gift a friend could ever give – she and I are taking a photography class together at New Space. It’s the ‘holy shit now you have a digital camera and you don’t know how to use it dumbass” class. Mmmm.. kay – it’s not exactly that title, but you get the idea. We wanted to go for some of the more advance classes, but I honestly need to learn a lot more about my Nikon before I get all fancy. The class is a gift for my burpday. We can’t wait.

Go To Bloggy type things – I signed up to go to WordCamp PDX. I’ve been a WordPress user for years, but there’s a lot more I would like to learn. I’m really excited about the session on Copyrights and the other session that discusses integrating other system with a wordpress blog (like Twitter, my new addiction). It’s going to be fun! While it’s not till the end of the month, it’s still on my calender of things to do. I love having a calender like this.

Go to Vinideus – D and I are fond of this place. We brought Miss Amandapants with us on Friday, and I think she fell in love too. The atmosphere is quite chill. I love going into a place and being welcomed personally. The owners are congenial and warm and all of their suggestions have been spot-on. They also have wonderful desserts. It’s a great way to spend a Friday.

Go searching for the house you almost took – On Saturday, D and I drove up to Linnton to see if we could check out the house we almost took up there – It was the scary one my sister looked at. The drive up took us behind the industrial area on 30, and north of the St. John’s Bridge. When D and I finally remembered the road (he has a memory like a steel trap), we shimmied up, and almost turned down into the driveways. I decided I would have loved it up there, but it would have made the experience of moving to Portland completly different. Where we live now is in the heart of a very active neighborhood (Concordia), and full of traffic and people and energy. The place in Linnton had all the majesty nature could provide, but the human element was missing. I can’t say I’m 100% happy with the house we have now, nor could I say I would have been 100% happy with that place, but it does have the natural element that the city limits are missing.

I hope you had a lovely weekend….and now I have to call my sister back.

The mailman arrived, although the beagles didn’t get up for his arrival. One peice of mail is from the Vet, telling us Puck is overdue for his heartworm, and the other is from Rollins.

I graduated from Rollins last year. I think I still owe the library 53 dollars for a book I swear I turned back in, but found after my move. The letter is from the Bursar’s office:

Greetings from Rollins College Office of the Bursar. A recent internal review revealed that you have a credit balance on your account. This credit was derived from financial aid that was credited to your account but not refunded to you. Enclosed, please find the check for the outstanding credit. Please accept our apologies for the delay.”

MMmm…. kay. So I open the check – it’s for $2,116.09.

I call D.

“How much did you kiss the Blarney Stone this week? Jesus?”

“I think I fellated it.”

Rent is paid. While I do have a jobby job, I won’t get paid for 2 weeks, so things would be tight, but this helps out in ways I can’t say.

My life/luck/karma has turned completly around. And if you are one of my friends from Rollins and graduated the same semester as I did, you may want to give a shout to the Bursar’s Office…. you never know!

We ate at a Morracan restraunt called Marakesh. Walking into the place, you are transported to a foreign land where sitting on the floor looks comfy and pillows are actually chairs. The server escorted us through groups of very jovial diners and full tables. We had to watch our feet so we didn’t step on anyone, and because the carpets were quite pretty. The table we sat at backed against a ginormous table of very loud patrons. But they seemed happy. The menu dumbfounded me, but that’s because I’m too used to American pricing. We were going to pay 18.50 per person for a 5 course meal. Then she offered mango mimosas…..mmmmm. I had 2. The meal started with a bean soup, thick with tomatoes and spices. I even ate the chickpeas. Next was the “salad.” On a huge plate they brought out a pile of babaganoush surrounded by a tomato-cucumber “salad.” It seemed more like a salsa fresca with different flavors. All in all, it was delish. We ate it with anise-spiced bread. Then came the crack. The B’stilla – I would like to go there just for 14 or 15 of these devilishly-delish pastries. D and I shared the vegetarian option, which was stuffed with spiced egg and potato, raisins, almond, and green onions, baked into a phyllo dough and dusted with powdered sugar. There was a touch of sweetness with the sugar, but it didn’t overwhelm the savory pastry. Finally, the main dinner arrived. I ordered roasted veggies with saffron rice. Honestly, it was the most underwhelming part of the meal for me. While the veggies were roasted perfectly, the rice tasted a little bland and the vegetables overpowered it. D ordered the Breka, a much better selection. At the end of the meal they sprinkled our hands with rose water and served sweet (very) mint/green tea and a chopped fruit salad. The meal was outstanding and very very affordable. It’s one of those dinners that is more of an experience than just a meal. Prior to the restraunt getting VERY full (it ended up packed to the gills), a belly dancer provided the diners with a nice show. It made D happy.

Miss Amanda invited a friend, J, to come to dinner with us. We had a blast talking, laughing, ribbing each other and Amanda. It felt great to meet someone else from Portland, and she was born and raised here. I know Portland natives are a rare species (kind of like Florida natives).

Now, I forgot the name of the club, but it was deep downtown. They had 80′s night, and thankfully it was 21 and up. As we tromped up the 3 flights of stairs, I feared for myself if I got too intoxicated. I joke about “drunk tests” all the time, but I can only imagine the number of people who had stumbled down the stairs to a painful end. The corridor going up to the club narrowed as we walked in. The place was very small, with one bar, 3 bathrooms, a few chairs and couches and a nice big stage and dance floor. Who needs a lot of room for the wall flowers if there is enough room to dance?

We got there VERY early, so we got to watch the regulars stake their space on certain sections of the dance floor. I forgot about the stereotypes you see at clubs: the guy who has been going since the beginning, the DJ’s attention-hungry girlfriend, the older couple who dances together and doesn’t give a shit, the awkward boy dragged into the dancing against his will, the air-humpers…. it’s funny. You can change cities but there are the same types of people who go to clubs all around the country.

I danced… a lot. And it was great watching Miss Amandapant’s face, the shock and surprise, when D started to dance. Dude, my man has rhythm, but he will kick you so get out of the way. The one thing that surprised me ? I didn’t really want to smoke. I worked my ass off…the best kind of workout in my mind. And now I remember why I was so skinny in my early 20′s – I danced ALL THE TIME (oh…and I didn’t eat much and the drugs helped….. but I’m just sayin’). We had so much fun. I observed the following:

• A girl in a faux-hawk dancing to Billy Ocean’s “Get out of My dreams”
• the floor cleared when the DJ played “So Alive”…my huge WTF moment of the evening
• Tiffany and Bauhaus on the same night?
• Female cockblocking – women can be total passive aggressive douches when they like someone
• the wandering cock of a lonely male
• how bad some people dance

And I want to go out and dance again this Friday! But the The Clone Wars comes out on Friday, and I want to see it.

We are totally doing it next year.

And now I’m going to have my one celebratory beer and go to bed.

But first, and inventory of what hurts:

• my ass/sitbones – I got all “fashionable” and didn’t wear proper bike pants. I’m paying for it now.
• my shoulders – I kept hunching over – bad posture, bad posture!
• my feets – they went numb. they just need to get used to the torture.

Other than that, I’m perfect. And now, I will go to sleep.

I’m joyful.