Lately.

Feb. 24th, 2013 09:07 am
crows: (black raven)
So, this weekend has been tough. I'm still trying to balance the exhaustion of working 6 8-10 hour days per week. The bookshop, my last two days, is a good wind-down and doesn't require me to be on my feet quite as much but it still doesn't leave much time for me to take care of myself. Friday night descended into awful, into some hard but necessary conversations with one of the people I'm in love with, a lot of anxiety. Topped off by the neighbor downstairs cranking the music up at 2AM, right as I was getting myself close to wound down enough to get some sleep. Less than four hours later, I woke up, still in the thick of the migraine I'd cried myself into the night before.

I got up, cleaned up, got ready for work, messaged my boss that I wasn't feeling well and was going to be a little bit late but was determined to go in anyway. Trying to make something to eat to put down with the 800mg of ibuprofen I'd just swallowed was interrupted by several intervals of just having to stand still and cringe. Walking out of the house into the bright sunlight off the fresh snow almost made me throw up. I went back inside, called in to work, pounded on the neighbor's door so hard I hurt my hand, yelled at her about the music (which was still going on, loud enough to vibrate my floor upstairs), got cussed at by her boyfriend inside, went upstairs and spent 2 hours in the fetal position under my covers, about half of which sobbing hysterically cause I hurt so much.

When I came out of that, I emailed my-aunt-the-landlady about the downstairs neighbor issue (I've hinted lately that I haven't been talking to my family, so I've been resistant to call them about house-related issues - it's a major point of anxiety for me). She replied quickly and quite kindly, and is going to look into doing something about my neighbor to make sure this stops. I don't know how promptly that will occur but at least someone else knows about it other than Delia and I. I then commenced to completely lose yesterday, cause moving around a lot made me too nauseous to do much even inside the house and my brain was too gelatinous to address any of my intellectual needs of the moment.

ALSO Friday night, coming at the worst possible time, the decline on two stories that were approaching the end of the reading period for where I'd submitted them. I had rather foolishly allowed myself to be a bit hopeful about them since I felt like they'd been kept for a little bit, and they turned up right in the middle of that tense time I mentioned earlier talking with my SO, where I'd already felt a little broken open and pretty vulnerable and just... not well.

Updating my submission spreadsheet made me realize I received those rejections on the 3 year anniversary of starting to submit work at all. Nothing's been printed. Which basically started off the resounding chorus of you're not good enough and you're not working hard enough in my head, which I've been trying to quiet down since then. Today is a little better. I was still woken up at 4AM by music downstairs (called the police; this isn't the first time and I'm not the only person who's called).

What I did have my head on straight enough to do Friday night when I was still miserable and couldn't stop crying is send out everything again. Both the stories I got back plus a flash fiction piece that I've sent out before but hadn't had out recently, but still really like. I also spent some more time reading about other markets and picked out the next ones for the two longer pieces if they come back to me again. I don't have enough time in my current existence to let things grid me to a complete halt if I can avoid it. So no matter how worthless I've felt about my work the last couple of days, uh... other people have it to read and I think that's what matters at the moment.

Rewind a bit. Thursday I took my kitchen back from the entropy gods. The inertia of stress from the last several months, which I've touched on here, and my own struggle against the weight of life inside my brain has meant it had fallen into a place where I basically couldn't use it. It's not totally put back together, but I can at least cook at home again, and have a responsible amount of groceries with which to do so. I even bought coffee and treated myself to a brand new pour-over cone (it's red!). I haven't owned one of those for a while, and while I like my press, I'm more likely to use the pour-over/keep it clean.

Today, I think I'm excusing myself from more cleaning in order to focus on creative work. I'd like to have some more short pieces that are ready to go out. I haven't been focusing at all on short work lately, most of my energy has gone to the One for Silence and Dark Energy, which is fine, because I'm liking the work I've done on those, slow though it has been. But still. Theoretically, publication credits will eventually serve those projects, too. So today I'm going to go through the fragments and the old pieces and see what is waiting to be finished/rewritten/revised.

I also want to do some work on the comic, because that is a very good project (co- authoring and illustrating with [personal profile] thiefofvoices) that is moving forward.

I also need to sing. I have the music for the piece I'll be singing solo at my choir's fundraiser in a week (from yesterday >.>) but I haven't sat down with it yet. So, uh, better get on that, so tonight I can arrange some practice time with the gentleman who will be accompanying me.

So that's that! Fuck you depression and harpy-chorus of misery. I've got shit to do.

Mauled.

Oct. 10th, 2012 11:44 pm
crows: (Default)
The night is hungry. I walked home from a late night foray into crisp air, hot cup in hand, wet breath spooling in my scarf, and avoided the bodies on the street. Arm-waving boys shouting their bravados in a tight group, cold and skinny in their black t-shirts. Men with beards and books they carry with suspiciously religious weight, shaking hands, exchanging hugs outside closed storefronts. The city sleepily preparing itself for binging weekend nights.

I hurried home, arrived breathless. I've been more and more jumpy since, and retreated into almost total darkness. Because I don't want there to be a light in my window. Because I don't want anyone to see my shadow moving. Maybe even the light of my netbook screen is too much, facing the wall above my bed, innermost to the house at large. I'm fighting the urge to hold my breath every time someone's conversation passes on the sidwewalk.

The cats are on alert, too, perked ears and watchful eyes more than usual, as though they are waiting. I'm waiting, too.
crows: (Default)
So many inarticulate things about the space and nature that is home. I'd love to tell you about it, but I don't really know. Yesterday was very difficult, and very bruised, and very tired, and in that run-ragged way fatigue has of making you feel every imperfection, every pea beneath the mattress, I was much more aware than I sometimes wish I was about just how wrong the shape of things here is.

Today, however, I have energy for mischief, energy for pushing back and laughing in its face. And I plan to.

Let's get this party started.

Entire.

Oct. 30th, 2009 01:43 pm
crows: (flying raven)
I cannot reiterate how much more enjoyable my free time is when I have a job. I'm enjoying work; it's nice to get out, nice not to be alone with my thoughts all twenty four hours of the day, nice to have a strong and reasonable impetus to put aside all of those other things (however pressing they are to my personal psyche) to focus on something that is simple, totally without drama or complication. I know how to do my job; I know how to do my job well. It's very, very black and white, and there are answers readily at hand when I have questions. This is a good world to live in, forty or so hours out of the week.

I'm completely exhausted, this afternoon, having started walking to work at a little after 445 AM for my first opening shift. My feet ache. I'm very glad to be off of them. That I have this evening in, private, quiet is a good thing. Mental preparation for tomorrow, the NaNoWriMo kickoff at midnight (oh, also Halloween but I don't have any related plans). I'm going to retouch my henna, do my nails, spend some time taking care of my skin (which I haven't been, shamefully, and it's showing). All this amid the comfortable weight of quite a bit of writing, and writing-related work. I need to edit for BF, there are bits and pieces bubbling up to my brain for Athlacarta, and I can feel myself reserving flashes of insight into the new novel (for next month, for November: it's called Sounding). These are all good things.

So, that is all. I'm home in the quiet, anxiously awaiting my date with several very dangerous muses once I've concluded the other work that awaits me this evening (job number 2 requires some attention this afternoon).

Lately.

Sep. 18th, 2009 01:58 pm
crows: (Default)
Well. Apparently, it took me two days to recover from my all-nighter to get back down to Iowa. I expected to be dead on my feet all of Tuesday (having arrived that morning), but I didn't really anticipate Wednesday and Thursday being useless days as well. I did watch all of Harper's Island, though. Surely in some universe that was a productive use of my time.

I did manage to wake up at a decent hour (7:30, much better than 10:45), wash my dishes, make myself a good breakfast, and get away for my errands without feeling hassled. I've picked up a stack of job applications from bookstores, cafes, and other shops within walking distance of my house; on wandering into the Blick down the way (also to apply) I bought a very nice looking wood bookcase on clearance for $30 and even managed to get it up to my apartment by myself (it's not awfully heavy, but it's a very awkward box).

I also named the two members of Team Destructokitten. The little one (grey and white striped) is Jay (short for Bluejay, not of & Silent Bob), and the larger solid grey one is Rook. Rook is in my lap right now. Well, now he's on the desk. But he was in my lap when I typed that he was. They're both lovely. A little thin; I think I might need to deworm them despite not seeing any other evidence of roundworm other than that they're not putting on as much weight as I would have expected. It's also been a long time since I've had a kitten (having adopted my previous cats as adults).

Venus is here, she's crabby about her new friends still but I think it's mostly the flight getting to her. Today and yesterday nobody's really hissed at eachother, though they're not quite interacting yet. The kittens - particularly Jay - really want her to play with them, but she's still acting a little snobbish. Between the three of them, my apartment feels really un-lonely. Also, nothing stays on a surface unless it's anchored down.

I'm still brainstorming for new things to do with Halflit. I started compiling suggestions here: http://www.halflit.net/suggs.html and then, because that was sortof a dumb idea as an ongoing thing, finally set up a forum for discussion here: http://www.halflit.net/rookery/forum/

Everyone is invited, writers and otherwise. Feel free to register and say hello; I'll be making an actual layout for the board in the next few days as well as adding new forums. That messageboard will remain permanent, and theoretically connect to a set of pages devoted to writing and artisting resources.
crows: (flying raven)
I'm back in Iowa from Alaska, the cat-introductions are going un-traumatically. She was very good during the flights, which were uneventful. The kittens are curious about her; she's cranky but they're not intimidated. Perfect :) I think they should be fast friends within a few weeks. She's needed companionship ever since I lost Cyrano. I still haven't named them.

Beyond that, I'm exhausted and my brain is totally fried. I'm searching through my piles of mail to identify bills but I'm going to handle them tomorrow. Today is mine; I'll nap if I can, go to supper tonight with the fam. There are two trees loaded with apples at my grandparents' place, ready for picking. I've never picked apples before (or any other fruit for that matter). I'm very excited.

Now, World of Warcraft to the cicada and bird sounds drifting in my 10 open windows. My apartment is a mess, but I still love it. <3 I've missed home, but I miss home as well.
crows: (Default)
Upon reflecting on the recent move, and the ledge at which I am standing, I am often overwhelmed by this sensation: I am in the right place. I am in the right place. I am in the right place.

I think I've been waiting for this for a long time. I think it what qualifies, for me, as what manifests in many as the sensation of needing to feel at home somewhere. Home specifically for me is a somewhat more flexible (though very important) notion. It has to do with love, with people; several areas in space qualify. However, home is not always the place where I need to be. I am there now. Fortunately, it is a home as well.

Shazam.

Aug. 7th, 2009 05:01 pm
crows: (morrigan)
Hello! Yes? What? Oh, yes, hi.

We made it back alive post blowing a second tire just outside of Grand Island, NE. Things I never knew: tires have a shelf life. Even if they've hardly been driven on, 10 year old tires are no good anymore. At least they made it that far (from Alaska). RV has all new tires now. Things you look back on and laugh but were very annoying and sweaty at the time...

This week, mother and I have been busily focused on washing and repairing my windows (this is a much more arduous task than it sounds like; particularly the washing part. Trust me. They were -bad-), tripping over kittens, unpacking (I've gotten more of this done than I expected - I can hardly believe how much I haven't quite lived in the last several places I've occupied), and the really big task over the last two days: I just purchased a car. Yeah, yeah, whatever, but this is a first for me. It's a new car; 2010 Mazda 3 5 speed sedan in black mica. It's very nice. I like it -a lot-. The loan situation with the bank is also extremely auspicious; with the support of the extremely helpful woman at Hills, everything is in my name, -I hold the title to my car-, and the interest rate is wicked. Monthly payment is a smidge higher than ideal but, shit, I'm not complaining even a little.

Also found a totally kick ass antique rocking chair for $50 at a thrift store. But I've got shit to do and a kitten rolling around on me, so I'm gonna sign off and leave you fine people to it.

Basics.

Jul. 14th, 2009 05:39 pm
crows: (Default)
To a handful of people who have added me recently and I've added back (those I know and those I don't), hello and hello. If we're not acquainted, feel free to leave me a message introducing yourself if you feel :D (for those I am acquainted with, um... you can too if you feel left out!).

Just got back from a very short-notice and not particularly planned two-day foray into Chicago. Delightful time with a few friends including an extremely relaxing evening with tea, talk, and knitting. I need more things like this! The whole crowd of people I've encountered in that city seems very warm. I enjoy that doubly, being away from my own nest of loved ones (you are all so, so missed).

There have been some small hangups getting settled. Nothing of its own merits worth mentioning, just the sort of things you expect. Everything takes a little longer and costs a little more than you expected, no matter how you plan. C'est la... this too shall pass (and it isn't too bad to begin with).

I adopted two kittens from a farm out of town. They are supremely adorable. http://crows.halflit.net/issues.jpg

I'm stirring up an entire collection of short stories that primarily address events prior to the time that a piece I've worked through four drafts in the last year and a half and intend to submit for publication after a little more work this year (Unbroken Thread). One is complete (draft one) and I have a handful of beginnings and concepts. Secondly, the collection of fables is webbing together into an interesting pantheon that encompasses the unfinished story of Carusa and her daughter, which I've begun but isn't gelling, and The Sea Knife which is complete at draft one from a year-odd ago.

Oh, and there's Chant. All ninety four thousand words of it. Sitting. Staring. o.o If anyone is bored and likes picking through messy draft fiction, I always appreciate anyone willing to have a glance over things I'm working on. So let me know if anything looks remotely interesting.

I think that's about it. I'm exhausted but the rest of me feels extremely awake. Coming fully back into balance with the more metaphysical aspects of my life has been an interesting process; I have impulses to overextend and I think it's contributing to some of the instability I've been feeling.

Travel.

Feb. 21st, 2009 08:12 am
crows: (flying raven)
Wow, it's more than a hundred dollars cheaper to fly into Burbank than it is to fly into LAX.

Just trying to think about going down for a few days and pack my shit up to get it out of storage exhausts me.

If someone had been more honest and upfront, and given so much as two shits about how his communication affected me during this period of my life, this all would have been a lot easier. As it is, his concern seems to continue to be exclusively for himself without any regard as to how it might influence anything around him. That would be fine if I'd left saying, fuck you, I don't care what you're doing or what you think. But I didn't. I left saying, I love you, and with assurances that there was a high likelihood that once we got a couple of months of space we'd be talking about me coming back down.

Ha. Ha. I don't even think, at this point, that I'm going to tell him when I come down to retrieve my things. I can't imagine trying to sit across a coffee table from him and pretend that we're still good friends.
crows: (Default)
You know it's been too damn cold for too damn long when you're incalculably relieved to see fresh snow. It's above ten and climbing after our weeks below zero, and it feels so, so good outside.
crows: (Default)
Fix You, by Coldplay, is playing on the coffee shop radio. I got this song, from Miss Ta's livejournal a healthy number of years ago and it was a major piece of comfort music from the hardest-time-in-my-life-before-last, when I was deciding and effecting my move to Los Angeles. I was young and stupid and in love. I hurt a lot and I was hugely full of hope, and an equal portion of terror. I did that thing. The world got a little smaller, I've ended up a little more alone since the dissolution of that affair over the course of these last now-many months.

What I'm grappling with, well... one of the many things, right now, as I clutch to life and try to get myself back in a position of some control, is the feeling of that aloneness. The part of myself that really wants to have somebody. Somebody. And then the rest of myself that reminds me that, that's a stupid thing to want in your life, as a dominating thought. It's not consuming, it's certainly not the only thing I want and I'm not particularly desperate (though I fear getting that way), as evinced by the people I've turned down in the last few months since I've been 'single' and sufficiently detached from the life that was. But god damn, I'm lonely. I want... to feel like someone wants to afford me something personal, something private; something that not everyone else gets a piece of. I want that person to be happy and patient, to have an easy smile, to take the brokeny bits of me in stride and pet my hair when I fall into those cracks, tell me how silly I am, and love me anyway. I want to be with someone who'd be happy with what I have to bring to the table, even if it's not the most fabulous and well-adjusted array of traits and opportunities ever, right now.

So many of the people around me are so god damn unhappy right now... and yea, there are some pretty shitty things going on right now, in people's personal lives and in the world at large. I get that. But it makes me want to scream. Why are we all driving ourselves gleefully onward and onward in this self-reciprocating cycle of misery? SO much of these moods are based so solidly in choice, direct in the moment choice, that I just want to grab everyone's collective shoulders and give them a good shake. IS IT WORTH IT?! NO, IT ISN'T. Even my mother... Just let it be. This is your life. Yea, I realize it's not everything you ever dreamed of. Neither is mine. But this ... this isn't helping you, or me, or anyone else in the world. It's the most frustrating thing I can imagine. Everyone's entitled to a bad day; I have them too, god knows. But you've got to be able to shake yourself out of it and turn to, right? Else, what the fuck are any of us doing here? I guess what's started to get to me in the last few weeks is the absolute disinterest in doing that, that I see among a great number of people. They relish their unhappiness; they cultivate it. Particularly when this hits close to home, among people I love, it just kills me.

Alright, enough bitching. I have work that I ought to be doing.
crows: (Default)
I have a tiny glass pot of flowering jasmine and lavender white tea. Beside it, a serving poured in a clear cup with a trace of raw honey and six, bright pomegranate seeds faintly translucent in the candle-lit water.
crows: (Default)
Restless for writing. I've a small somewhat lighthearted story started off a prompt from Seventh Sanctum, but I'm not sure it's going to go anywhere. I've been contacted to participate in the production of a fantasy e-zine which is also looking at going into print, and while I've been buzzing around in my headspace looking for a story to actually write and submit (I'll be doing other things for them as well), I don't think I have any of the appropriate genre up there right now. I'm filled with things closer to home, images of the subtley - perhaps eerily - familiar. It'll congeal eventually.

Also, thinking about taking up a proper second job. I'm a little dubious... I have the toy magazine, if I have the fantasy magazine on top of that... I may be teaching kid-music classes for MJ, either on a regular or call-in as she needs me basis... I guess it's all part of the jumble of potentially remaining up in AK longer than planned initially. If I do end up staying up here into next year, perhaps after the holidays would be a more prudent opportunity to sell off the rest of my time. That would allow me to do NaNo, and have flexibility for the holiday craziness at the toy store. The contingency where I leave and DON'T end up starting completely over in a totally different place by myself feels like it is slowly but steadily waning in probability... perhaps that's an illusion. I keep trying to tell myself it's too early to say for sure. I'll be in LA next week and... I don't know. I keep hoping that, as soon as I reach that mile-marker that I can make out on the road ahead, I'll have a little better of an idea what's going on. So far, I've left them all empty handed. Anyway, in the case that my next step is to run off to college in City X where I will likely know nobody, staying a little more firmly rooted in the palm of home for a while longer sounds appealing. I'm dubious of the state of the country right now - with the political fervor reaching its present pitch and the economy being what it appears to be, it just seems like a bad time for a fresh start.
crows: (flying raven)
Today, the morning is cold and hazy. The hillside is green and yellow, the mountains rock-brown and red giving way to new snow mantles. I've been in a black mood the last few days; frustrated, crying spontaneously, abjectly sad. I'm giving over as valiant an effort as possible to deal with things before I have to. Not so much worldly things, they don't trouble me as much, but the emotional things I've been having difficulty digesting. There are no firm answers, yet, but I think I'm learning slowly where things lie, even if the other people involved are doing their best not to talk to me about it. If it is intended as mercy, I want to appreciate it, but I'm tired of being in limbo. I know it isn't that simple; but I wonder how much a part that is? The temptation to really just throw in the towel and cut my losses becomes very strong between two-hour stints of sleep when I'm laying awake (again). Double bed, cold room, silent city. So many disquieting notions keeping my company. I don't know what I'm going to do about school residency; day by day, it looks more and more unlikely that I'll be returning to California. There is a certain suspicion in me that even another city will be too close; there will be too many reminders. But a fresh start and a clean slate somewhere else doesn't break me out of my own mind, aren't just that simple, and take a long time. Maybe what I need is a lottery win and a lobotomy before I try the aforementioned.

Dust

Sep. 15th, 2008 09:32 am
crows: (Default)
Termination dust on the top of the highest mountain in the Chugach range, which looks like it is only a stone's throw from the picture windows that front my parents' house. Summer is over. The snow will climb slowly down the mountains, and given the amount of precipitation Alaska has endured all year so far, it will do so hastily as the temperature drops away. I feel like there's an engine spooling up inside of me, ready to propel me hard into combat. Winter has always been a bad time for me, whether or not I was here or there. It's not SAD - I'm unaffected by the change in light - it's something deeper and more elemental than that, a trough in the yo-yo of earthly energies that leaves me often gasping for breath. I suppose it is exactly what it is for most beasts of the earth. A time of hibernation and preparation; I'm just still learning how to balance the fact that my life doesn't stop for these months. There is so much to be done. I'm dallying while my computer makes it's way up here in the mail; but once it arrives, there's things I'm to teach myself, and the organized assessment of college options I must see to. Applications, essays, portfolios. Scrutiny, both at me and on my part. I doubt I will feel ready, there has not been a lot of that afforded me this year. The blows come fast and hard; most individual forces in my life are totally heedless of anything else that might be acting on me, or might not be backing me up. More so, I find, than usual. Later, I will be able to look at it like a good exercise of being fast on my feet, but at the moment...
crows: (Default)
I meant to give some kind of proper update. Why? I don't know. Few to none of you are particularly connected to what's going on with my offline life that it would make so much of an impact. However, I always have the best of intentions for these things. The memories, the record! Oh, how self-possessed we all are in this post-blogging world. Perhaps I'll just stick to cryptic Twitters.

A great many things are well with the world. Well, and as they should be, and as the people that are involved with them deserve them to be. As for my position as far as all of that is concerned? I remain slightly outside the lines. I like it well enough; it is not without it's drawbacks, but nothing substantial enough for me to try to climb back into the box. I toy with the idea of a more thorough sabbatical from present existence... really removing myself from it for a while. A substantial change of identity or perceived identity, along with all the things that come with that and are required to properly facilitate it. I daily count the chips from stack to stack, considering gains and losses. To live in a place where one is away from one's personal history, both externally and internally, opens a lot of doors. However, disappearing closes many, too. How could I excise myself from my own life without hurting the most essential people to it? Or, is letting go of those 'essential' people core to the process of disassociating oneself with one's past and the trajectory of the present? I could put myself on the other coast, know no one, bend my mind to some different fragment of my name (Gail, anyone?) and enjoy, for a while, the psychic anonymity of that. If nothing else, it would certainly cure me of any attempts to salvage the past. Of course, that is all dependent solely on whether or not I decide there's anything worth salvaging. There may be, in more than one avenue of recently derailed planning. There also may not. Perhaps I shouldn't yet be thinking this far ahead.
crows: (Default)
Last day of work yesterday.

Still so much to do, and still with such a heavy heart.

I washed the cat today. She's very angry at me just now.

Maintaining buoyancy is... challenging.

Packing clothes today... into suitcases. Into suitcases. I'm really going... just next week. It really is all over. Or something...

I barely slept last night, and when I did I had terrible dreams.
crows: (Default)
Getting closer. Still debating whether or not to bring the cat. On the one hand, she's happy where she is, she stresses my parents' cats out a little, and it's gonna cost me at least $200 bucks to make that all happen. On the other hand, it's my CAT. I loves her and will be lonely without her for 6 months. And. She'll be happy wherever she is. Damn entitled cat knows how to take her happiness from whatever she can get it out of better than any other creature on the planet. Hmm. Hmm.
crows: (Default)
9 days. My flight is early evening, next wednesday.

One way, home to the frozen north. Because I'm clever, I decided to do this first thing in the morning on the first day in weeks I've actually tried to look nice and put on some makeup. I'm back to feeling like a total wreck, tear-smeared eyeliner and all, and it's not even 11.

Profile

crows: (Default)
crows

August 2017

S M T W T F S
  12345
67 89101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 12:52 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios