What’s Next?

I started writing the bubblegum story so I would have something to write since I’m stalled on the fiction. I meant it just to be a blog post, but it ended up being four posts. After all is said and done I don’t really care for it because I feel like I had to wrap it up when there was so much more to say. I found it really difficult to try to tell that story out of context, so it ran long, but it could have gone longer. The ending was abrupt, I know, but what came next is a different story and there was also so much that came before, and during.

A life is a busy messy thing. I never thought much about writing anything about me because who am I and who would care? Then I remembered that I write this for myself, so it doesn’t matter. So many memories have come back to me during this exercise. I’ve even busted out old journals because I’m terrible with chronology. I didn’t journal consistently, but often during momentous or transitional times, so it will still be helpful.

I’m not sure how or what I will post here, exactly. Probably just all of it and as I go. It is weird to be so open in such a public way, but I still feel somewhat safe and isolated here, which is why I like writing here, mostly in secret. I thought about some of the things I would share and had a talk with my husband about it this morning. I told him that I wanted to write honestly and not censor myself but there would be some things he might not want to read. He agreed that if there was something I didn’t think he would particularly enjoy, that he would take my advice and skip it.

Later today he told me he just unsubscribed and that if there was something I wanted him to see, to share it with him in another way. Part of me is sad that he felt like he needed to walk away from the whole thing, but the bigger part of me appreciates his willingness to step away. He’s the best.

For anyone reading this who may care, I will indicate memoir type posts in the titles of future blogs, to separate them from my other ramblings.

For those of you that have reached out to encourage me in this endeavor, all my thanks. I really do appreciate it.

A Story to Tell

I decided to write a little anecdote from my younger days to post here. It started innocently enough, but it has grown out of control. I still want to share some of what I wrote but I feel like I’m not done and I don’t want to post anything before I’ve fleshed some things out.

I was going through some old pics to use along with the story and they brought back more memories which is why I think I just kept going and going. It certainly can’t be a single entry at this point, which is fun, but also challenging because I’m not sure where to start or stop individual entries.

I’m going to keep working on it, but it’s been fun to feel so inspired to write, I figured I’d share that here. I’m excited to post stuff when it’s ready, but it also makes me nervous since some of it is quite personal. I mean, I’ve posted personal stuff here before, but it’s a safe place because only a couple of my readers know me in real life. I trust them, so I know I can say whatever, but I always feel a little shy about posting anything personally identifiable here.

I’ve written some less than flattering, sometimes unkind things about people I care about here because I was venting, but I would be mortified if some (not all) of them actually read these.

The good news is that this blog is a needle in the internet haystack and it is highly unlikely that any of these people would ever run across this stuff. At least I hope so.

Tuesday Musings

I wrote two things yesterday. They were unrelated, on different topics and completely out of context; scenes from stories that don’t quite exist. I’m not sure if I feel inclined to go back to either of them to see if they will grow or just write more random things. Maybe if I generate enough scraps they will start to connect into an actual cohesive story.

I suppose I shouldn’t feel discouraged. If writing was so easy everyone would do it. I just want to make sure I am continuing to challenge myself, but not losing the joy of the thing. If I’m not having any fun then there’s no point. But enough about that.

I saw my Amazing Trainer Ralph this morning for the first time in over 2 weeks. He insisted on giving me a big, long hug even though he knew I was about to poop my pants. He missed me. He did admit to having Covid, which I did not expect. He caught it from one of his vaccinated clients, which he did not expect. He was in rough shape for while; hospitalized with double pneumonia. He suspects that it got such a foothold because he was running himself too ragged. He’s all better now though, and it was great to see him.

My workout was not super long because we spent the first third of it just catching up. From there it was a lot of chest presses and incline rows. I know he wanted me to keep going on my own past the end of the session but I said I had a conference call I had to get to. Technically this was true, I did have a call. It wasn’t until 11, but he didn’t need to know that.

I have a massage in about an hour. I selected good ol’ Swedish from the menu this time. I know I need deep tissue, but I just want to relax and so I shall.

Weekend Update

I got some good advice from my friends this weekend about writing. I will just ‘keep writing’, as difficult as that is some days. I will go down some different paths instead of doggedly trying to make that one idea work. I’ve had some weird dreams lately that I remember pieces of upon waking. I may use some of those as the starting point for a story. Or not. Maybe I’ll have 17 drafts of nonsense by the end of the week. Apparently that’s ok. I’m really not sure how this is going to go but I don’t want to give up on it. Not yet.

I did not write this weekend. I was very busy on Saturday so I was determined to do a whole lot of nothing on Sunday. I did cook lunch for everyone, so I wasn’t a complete lump, but outside of that I mostly ate and watched TV.

I’ve been watching old TV series on Netflix that had rabid fan bases while they were on that I have not seen. I recently finished Supernatural which took FOREVER because there were 15 seasons. I’m on Dawson’s Creek now. I can’t recall how many seasons there are but I can tell you that Dawson is a turd. It’s fun seeing all these seasoned actors in their early days, before they got good at it. It’s laughable and highly entertaining. It’s also interesting to note all of the things that they do that they could not get away with these days. The sure did like to make jokes about being gay or “transexual”. Oh, and the fashion! Terrible. The music is pretty bad too, which is notable given that there was decent music to choose from during this time period. Instead they went with way too many cringey white-girl angst ballads. Lots of pseudo yodeling going on in those.

I suppose that’s about all. I’m feeling relatively decent today. It is Monday, and that’s usually a hopeful day for me. The start of the week always feels like opportunity.

Lost My Phone and My Inspiration

I just left my office to embark on a hunt through the house looking for my phone. I couldn’t find it, so I used the Find Phone function on my Fitbit, which comes in super handy. I followed the signal back through the house, to my office, where my phone was. My brain finally caught up and I realized that I had been scrolling through Facebook on my phone when I decided that I needed to turn my Spotify on, so I put my phone down to go look for my phone.

It’s a miracle that I just don’t wander around running into walls.

I did not work on my fiction story yesterday. I’m debating scrapping the second version and starting over again. I think I want to go back to first person, but change course entirely.

I feel like I am supposed to enjoy the writing or at least feel proud of what I am producing. I am having little snatches of inspiration here and there, but the rest of it just sucks. Maybe I am clinging too hard to what I think the story is supposed to be about. I think to myself that I just need to write and see where the story goes which sounds ok in theory but implausible in practice.

I have a date with my BFF/writing coach tomorrow, so between bites of delicious food I will seek her wisdom. I don’t want to abandon this, especially so early on, but maybe I just don’t have what it takes to write good fiction. I feel like I used to when I was younger, but that may be a manufactured memory. Maybe I drank all those brain cells to death.

What I do not want to do is make writing feel like a chore. I enjoy my little blogs. They are no great works of art but they scratch my writing itch, so maybe that’s enough.

My Aunt is an Asshole

I am in such a foul mood. I hope writing this will help me out of it.

I woke this morning with gratitude. I was thankful for the breath in my lungs, the sun on my face. All the good stuff. Thursdays I wake up without an alarm, which is always lovely. It was around 8:30 when I arose to get started with my day.

I was brushing my teeth when I got a text message from my Aunt. Great.

My Aunt is prone to passive aggressive guilt trip behavior and this text was a fine example. She is in town helping my mom with some home renovation and redecoration. She tells me that mom is going to get all new furniture so the old stuff, including pictures, will be available if I “want to come by or call and talk to your mom.” Fuck you. FUUUUCK YOU. And also, no one wants any of that ugly ass furniture, full of 20 years of dust and skin particles and god knows what else. It is garbage and insulting that she would even insinuate that it would be some kind of gift to me.

This bitch does this shit every time she is in town. She acts like I am this piece of shit daughter who never calls her poor, dear mother. I have told her that she knows nothing of my relationship with my mom and that she needs to mind her business, but she persists.

The funny thing is that I’ve been actively communicating with my mom after deciding that I can be kind to her even if she is basically evil. To that end, I’ve been messaging regularly to check in. The last message I sent, back on the 10th of the month, has not been responded to. I don’t care about this, but I told my Aunt about it to shut her up. Since my last message I’ve been to Texas and back, worked every day, threw a party, had two (or three) dinner engagements outside of the house, exercised, cooked and generally ran my very busy life. My mom was basically napping the whole time, so should the burden really be on me to reach back out? Really?

My mom hates talking on the phone, as do I. So telling me to call is her message, not my mom’s. Come by? Really? In the middle of a home renovation? To an immunocompromised person in the middle of a pandemic? Shut the fuck up and get back in your lane bitch.

I despise passive aggression. Say what you wanna say to me or keep it to yourself.

So of course my foul mood bled over into my morning with the rest of my family. My husband needed to drop his car off for service and needed a ride back. Usually no worries but since I was so full of rage I was shooting mental hate daggers at his face the whole time I was waiting for him because in my mind’s eye I saw him having a casual, time-wasting conversation with the mechanic while I’m sitting in the car in my pajamas trying not to shit my pants.

I got home and tried to run to the bathroom so I wouldn’t actually shit my pants but of course had to explain to my dad where we had been and why. I told him what I knew, which was nothing. We dropped the car off for service. The end.

When I got done pooping and headed back across the house, I got a second round of questions about the car which I still didn’t have answers for. I said to my dad, “I do not know why the car was dropped off. I just picked him up.” to which he replies, “well, is there something wrong with his car?” OMG. I DON’T KNOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW. So I told my dad I’d go get Emmitt. I told Em that he needed to tell dad what was going on because he was going to be relentless until he got answers and really you can’t even be mad about it because he’s angling to pay for the whole thing.

Emmitt can tell I’m aggravated so he says he will take care of it. He suggests I go in through the garage door so I can go straight to the office an bypass any further interaction with dad. I tell him I need coffee. He says he’ll get it.

I go to the office and try to start working, but the computer is being all slow and weird and it’s making me more aware by the moment that I still don’t have coffee and it’s all I want in the world, so I restart the stupid computer and head out to get my own coffee.

Emmitt is being held hostage by my dad’s obscenely loud conversation. I can tell he started to make coffee but got sidetracked so I just got it myself, slamming shit around and muttering the whole time.

And then I started writing this. I’ve probably fucked Emmitt’s mood all up with my terrible attitude so I’ve got that to look forward to.

I do feel a little better. Now I’m off to do damage control.

Do-Over

I re-started my fiction project. I changed perspective, but also pretty much scrapped everything that I had before. I may incorporate some of it later on, but for now I felt like starting fresh was the thing to do. I’m happier with the result.

When I started the last version, I was sending pages to a friend for feedback. I listened to a book recently that told me that was a bad idea and I think I agree. I feel like I need to write this thing in a vacuum. I’ve set a small goal for myself, of 500 new words per day. I think that’s reasonable. I can always do more, but if I’m feeling kind of stuck, I can still churn out 500 words, even if they are terrible. I just want to keep it moving.

It was about a month ago when I had my original inspiration, and I sat on it. Then I had a flurry of activity for about 2 days, didn’t like the direction it was going and abandoned it. It was on my mind for sure, but I just didn’t quite know how to get back to it. I felt my confidence in the idea and in my ability to write a story about it waning. I was thinking about it, but nothing was coming to me and it sucked.

The same book that told me not to share pages along the way also told me to just write. Not to expect the ‘muse’ to come calling out of the blue. If I want to get this done, I will need to work at it. I like the new pages I have so far. My character is becoming more realized as I go. As of last night, I had a bit of a stall. I was headed in what I thought was a good direction but then it started to feel forced so I just walked away from it. I had met my word count for the day, so no harm and in the intervening hours I think I understand what I need to change.

It’s hard just letting the character tell you what happens next, but it does seem to be happening. Whether her story ends up being hot garbage or not remains to be seen, but I am excited for the journey.

Side notes:

• Going to sleep with writing on the brain makes for weird dreams. None of them were useful in the context of my story, but they were entertaining
• I am struggling to find music to listen to while I am writing. White Noise is too boring, and my Ambient Relaxation playlist, which is fine when I’m blogging, is very distracting when I am working on the fiction piece. I just found another playlist called Hustle Beats, which is supposed to be good for designing, coding and studying. I’m listening to it now and it’s fine for this, but so was the other one. Time will tell.

Back At It

My Amazing Trainer Ralph has been out sick for the past few weeks. He ended up with COVID, but he won’t admit it. Based on conversations we had early in the pandemic, I believe that he believed that he wasn’t going to get sick because God would protect him. Faith is a powerful thing, for sure, but so is biology. If you believe in God, then it goes that you should believe that he/she made the little bugs that plague us.

In any event, he’s getting better, he did confirm that he is COVID negative now, but he had pneumonia and his oxygen levels are still not up to snuff. He’s hoping to be back to work tomorrow, but time will tell.

I worked out Monday of last week at home. Tuesday through Thursday I was traveling. I skipped my regular Friday workout and was busy entertaining guests on Saturday. I had no intention of exercising Sunday. Yesterday I had a routine created and ready to go, but when my neighbor/accountability buddy bailed due to lack of sleep, I took advantage. I did go on a bike ride, but it was only 4 miles because it started raining.

The upshot is that I’ve got to get back in the swing of things. Today is my regularly scheduled session with Ralph, but since that wasn’t happening we used the routine from Monday in the driveway. It felt good to get sweaty again. We will be back at it tomorrow. From here, I hope we can get get the momentum going again.

It’s not even a matter of fitness at this point. I feel like both Emmitt and I benefit more from the mental health aspect. The ability to release all those good chemicals and release a little pent up stress.

This is not to say that I won’t pray for rain when my alarm goes off tomorrow morning, but I will power through.

Switching Gears

This will be my last blog about weight loss, for several reasons.

My last entry was hastily done in an airport, but even so, it was exceedingly boring and a missed opportunity to write about something vastly more interesting. The dinner was mentioned only in the context of what I ate and what I ate was only relative to whether it fell within my self-imposed guidelines. This fixation with losing weight is sucking the fun out of two things I love to do; eating and writing.

Most people have some kind of struggle with body image, I mean, given the environment we live in, how could they not? So, what I am experiencing is not new, it’s not groundbreaking. The ‘poor me’ episodes are tiresome and lazy. It might be different if they were helping me in some way, but they really aren’t. They are actually quite problematic as it relates to my creativity. If I aim to write something every day and what I write is a bullshit diary entry about calories then I am only ‘writing’ in the sense that I am adding words to a page. It is not creating. It’s procrastination.

That dinner could have been an experiential entry. There was plenty I could have said but I didn’t notice what I should have noticed. I was too busy refusing mac and cheese and dessert. When I sat down to lunch a few days later with my daughter and husband, I resolved not to make that mistake again. I was joyful in my time with my family and joyful about the amazing guacamole that I ate unapologetically on a chip. It’s a fucking chip. It’s not my self worth. It’s amazing I can taste anything with my head so far up my own ass sometimes.

I’m sure I will still struggle on a daily basis because not writing about it isn’t going to make the problem go away, but I do believe that it will help me to be less fixated on it if I allow space in my brain for other things to flourish.

To that end – Here are my non-weight related updates for the day!

I had some family over yesterday to celebrate my dad’s birthday. He turned 79, which would have sounded so old to me a decade ago, but not so much now. Every year that hangs on my own frame seems to narrow the gap between my generation and his. His age doesn’t seem quite so far away, which is reassuring and also terrifying.

As a gift, my sister came over early to clean and redecorate his bathroom. She was nervous at first that I would be offended, but on the contrary, I was ecstatic! I avoid my dad’s bathroom because A) I’m not a great housekeeper and B) I have plenty of other shit to do. So it’s out of sight, out of mind. He keeps it reasonably clean, but his tub gets pretty nasty after a while. She whipped it right into shape and now it’s cuter than it has ever been and I am exceedingly grateful. She even apologized for not doing more and promised to come over and help me clean more often. That warms my heart and I absolutely adore her for it.

My dad invited a friend to our get together, which has never happened before. I was happy that he felt comfortable enough to do it. I’ve known dad’s pal for decades and it was nice to see him again and feed him, since I promised him a steak dinner three years ago, forgot about it, and never made good on that promise. Oops! He brought me a really nice bottle of wine, which I accepted graciously. I didn’t mention I don’t drink because it doesn’t matter. It was a sweet gesture and that bottle will go nicely with the rest of my wine stash. I’m building up a nice collection since I don’t stay up all night drinking it.

It was lovely having everyone over but I was glad when they left. I needed a few hours to be by myself. Traveling for work is mentally draining. It is my job to be ‘on’ all the time and in the conference setting, that will literally be from the time the conference breakfast starts until the time I make my way to my room for bed, usually well after midnight. Then, I come home and of course my family misses me and wants some of my time. Essentially I had been at level 10 from Tuesday morning through Saturday afternoon with one-two hours max to take a breath.

I used my down time to watch junk TV, which I adore. I live for mindless entertainment, especially when I’ve been under strain because it requires nothing of me. It’s all give and no take. My guiltiest pleasure at the moment is Love Island. Although, I really don’t feel guilty about it. It’s extremely entertaining to watch young, beautiful people get attached, and often heartbroken, at breakneck speed. I have found myself completely enthralled by one of the cast. Her name is Cashay and she is one of those people with such pure and amazing energy that you can’t help but adore her. She is also stunningly beautiful. I find myself smiling my face off whenever she is on screen and I am rooting for her so hard to find someone who will love her like she absolutely deserves to be loved. I sometimes turn to Twitter to see if I am at one with the hive mind on any given subject and have gotten confirmation that pretty much everyone else who watches agrees that this girl is a treasure.

I’ve also been into the Bachelorette this season. I have watched for a long time but am usually ambivalent about the whole thing, but the current girl, Katie, is powerful, self-assured and stands up for herself. It helps that the majority of the men she has are decent guys. They are so unabashedly affectionate toward each other. It’s almost more fun to watch the men fall in love with each other than with Katie.

Anyhow. That’s what I’ve been up to. Technically this blog is still procrastination on the fiction writing, but that’s a whole different subject for another time.

I Think I Got This

I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my flight home. So far everything is on time. They kept changing my gate so I did a lot of wandering back and forth which gave me an opportunity to figure out what I was going to eat.

Airports are difficult places to find food when you are trying to watch what you eat. Sure, there are salads to be had, but they are generally wilted and gross after sitting in a refrigerated case for hours. Just about everything else has some kind of bread component. The best options are at the sit down joints, but of course those are far more expensive.

After evaluating my choices I decided to take a chance on one of the sit down places, but found that even in there I could get some eggs and bacon, but everything came with potatoes, pancakes or tortillas. Sure, I could just order it and only eat the bacon and eggs, but I rankle at spending $20 for a few bites of shitty airport food.

I got up and left and stopped at a little French cafe place that I had previously dismissed and picked up some oatmeal with almonds and pecans. I usually like oatmeal, but this was a flavorless gruel with no joy. Whatever. It was food. I will survive until I get home and I can make something better.

I’m proud of myself for not folding to the demons of convenience today. I also fought the demons of decadence at my client dinner last night. We went to a fancy steak house called Nick and Sam’s. This is the kind of place where they bring the meat out on a giant platter and explain where it came from, what it was fed, it’s favorite color and so on.

There were a bunch of rowdy, carnivorous men on my end of the table and they were entranced. We ended up ordering an extravagant amount of meat and having it carved at the table so we could share. There were excellent sides as well, and huge platters of sushi. So many bottles of wine were ordered.

I ate well, for sure. But I also stayed comfortably within my self imposed boundaries. I didn’t feel deprived, I didn’t miss the dessert. It was a hell of a test and I passed which makes me feel like my brain may actually be on board with the plan this time.