Countdown Initiated

10 Things I Wish I Could Say to People
1. It's not that I don't want to hang out with you, but I'm sick of being the only sober one. Can't you have one night where you're not drinking or doing drugs? No? I didn't think so.
2. I'm very alright with the fact that I've never been "clubbing". The "music" in those clubs gives me a migraine.
3. I'd go dancing with you, but I don't trust you. Why? Because you're male.
4. Your daughter is screaming for a toy and what do you do? You buy it for her? Yeah, that'll fix the problem.
5. What on earth possessed you to do/write/wear/say that?
6. I want to like your story/poem, but it's just bad. Very bad.
7. Are you even human?
8. I'm pretty sure that's not legal.
9. Don't. Touch. Me.
10. You're just a complete dick, aren't you?

9 Things About Myself
1. I don't stand still well.
2. I'm always writing a story in my head. If you interrupt the story, don't be surprised if I suddenly start talking about dragons. Or about how the lady sitting at that table probably has six kids, all grown, and she's suffering from empty nest and her husband is dead and she's contemplating never getting out of bed again. Or about how that guy spent his best years traveling from town to town selling photos in a stand on the side of the road. Now he's reaching the end of his years, his hands shake so badly he can't hold the camera. And all he wants is that one perfect picture.
3. I'm finally proud of my geekiness.
4. I've done ballet since I was 3. I still remember a lot of my choreography from over the years. I can pull the Snowflake Waltz out of my ass at the drop of a hat.
5. I will have no respect for you if you have none for me. I don't care what your job is, if you treat me like shit that's all you're going to get from me.
6. I love living by myself. Just me and the dog.
7. If I didn't need it to buy food, I wouldn't care about money.
8. I love sleep. I'd love more hours in the day to sleep. I love the dreams.
9. I correct people's grammar before I can stop myself. It gets me a lot of angry glares.

8 Ways to Win My Heart
1. Don't be too forward. I'm easily scared off.
2. Take me somewhere I'll enjoy but I've never been before. Make it an adventure.
3. Don't talk down to me. Do it once and I'll remember it forever.
4. I've had very bad experiences with men, please keep this in mind.
5. An exotic accent would hurt.
6. I don't always want to be treated like one of the guys. Just because I enjoy some of the same things, I want romance in my life, too.
7. I'm going to have performances over the years. I expect flowers.
8. Must love dogs. Must love animals.

7 Things That Cross My Mind A Lot
1. Why are you even talking to me?
2. Do you really think it's OK to do that?
3. [Insert Day Dream About Comic/Movie/TV Show/Cartoon Character or Hot Movie Star/Guy at Work Who's Completely Out of My League Here]
4. Anti-Me Thoughts
5. What would happen if I did this to this character?
6. I really want to work create a story around this character/situation. How could I do that?
7. Songs. If I'm not writing a story in my head, I'm singing a song.

6 Things I Do Before I Go To Bed (no particular order)
1. Take Pills.
2. Contacts out.
3. Dog Walked.
4. Dog in bed.
5. Play solitaire on my phone.
6. Write Story as I fall asleep.

5 Places I Want to Visit
1. England
2. South Africa
3. France
4. Ireland
5. So many others I can't even list them

4 Things I'm Wearing Right Now
1. Pants
2. Camisole
3. Undies
4. Sweater

3 Bands(Singers) I Listen to Often
1. Frank Sinatra
2. Josh Groban
3. Broadway Musical

2 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Have a child.
2. Write something that someone important will want to read.

1 Confession
Some days I wish that something would happen to me so that I wouldn't have to go to work.

Glee

Almost forgot to post something today. It was a good day. I took my antidepressant which is good. I registered for my classes, also good. I taught my little girl's ballet class, which was awesome. And now I'm watching Glee. Everyone keeps telling me that it's the best thing ever. And so far ... the music is good, but that's about it. The story lines are not really all there, like there's something that's just not clicking. The characters are transparent and kinda boring. I mean, the only one that seems to have any personality is the jock with a hidden passion for singing. The teacher has a personality in there, but it never gets to come out because someone shuts him down before he can say two bloody words. They keep telling me Rachel is a goddess and that I will love her, but honestly, I kinda want to shoot her. In her stupid nose. She's a bitch!

And yet all the same I'm still watching. Because the music is awesome. But I think it's more because otherwise I feel like I'm some sort of traitor to my group.

And I just realized that my dog snores. And I'm wondering if that's what wakes me up at all hours of the night when I can't figure out what it is.

It's possible.

Just to show you how truly geeky I am, I'm going to reveal something about myself. I do forum based RPGs. Nothing with dice or anything. It's all about the story and character development and the people I'm working with are great. I've been on this site for years, and every once in a while it dies, but it always comes back. And then it dies again. For a year at a time sometimes. But it always comes back. I've been working with two of the other members there. Well one is the site's creator and the other is just another guy who's been there nearly as long as she and I have. We are some of the few on the site who can, a) really write, and b) do so consistently, and c) treat everyone else on the site with any sort of respect. It's awesome and we just finished a really great dialogue session. And I'm feeling really good about my writing skills tonight.

However I have to go back to work tomorrow, so hopefully I'll still be awake enough to post something up tomorrow night. I'm wondering if consistency is the key to getting readers.

Knitting

So I'm adding two new items to my Resolutions list.

a) To take the dog, hereby referred to as Tigger, to the dog park at least one time a week.

b) To get back into knitting regularly.

Knitting was something I really enjoyed. It gives you something you can actually see and feel. It's instant gratification.

And I always enjoy taking Tigger to the dog park, it's just the getting off my ass and doing it that I fail at.

So, yeah. I started what I hope will one day be a shawl to wear with my new brown dress that I bought in November. The logical thing to do might have been to find a pattern, but I'm not very good at following patterns. Hopefully I'll be able to make something out of it.

Coyote Tales

This story is something different from my usual. It’s something I’ve been wanting to write for a long time now. My mother grew up on the Navajo Reservation. No, she's not Navajo. My grandfather worked at the boarding schools. He loved the culture and instilled that love into my mother. She, in turn, passed it onto me. When I got into writing, I always promised myself that I would write some of their myths in my own style and give them as a gift to my mother. I've finally gotten my writing to a point where I really feel like I can do justice to the great stories in Navajo folklore.

I decided to start with a Coyote story. Mostly because they were the first ones I ever heard. I plan on writing more. I’m having a few issues with it, but overall I think I’m fairly pleased.

I tried to use language a little differently than I usually do. I wanted to make it sound more like a folklore might. Audience wise I would see it as an older children’s book, does the language work for that?

I tried to make the references to the different constellations clear. Can you tell which ones are mentioned or does it need more?

I mention a few other characters found in Navajo folklore, Beaver, Wolf and Rabbit. Is Coyote’s relationship with each of these characters clear in the lines it is touched on? Or do I need to add to it? Or is it not necessary at all?

I think that’s all. Any other grammatical problems, general questions, thoughts. I want to hear what you like and what you didn’t.

Coyote and the Stars

The sky was dark and the moon hung low in the sky over the desert landscape. The few trees were bare now, the world was entering winter, and a few patches of snow clung to the ground under the under the scarce blades of grass.

Coyote trotted along the path, his ears perked and tail high. The chill in the air didn’t bother him and the breeze brought a familiar scent floating to his nose. He stopped in his tracks, and turned his head toward the smell to take a deep whiff. Beaver. He’d seen head nor tail of Beaver since the last time they’d played tricks. And the thought that he may have caught the scent of Beaver’s den made his blood race. It was, after all, his turn to make Beaver look a fool. Coyote turned his nose to the ground and followed the trail.

Lost in Beaver’s scent, he traveled off the path and deep into the desert. He moved around a few bushes and was nearly stabbed by a low growing cactus, but never veered far enough to lose the odor of his friendly foe. Soon he’d lost track of all else, lost in the aroma.

“Yá’át’ééh, Mą’ii,” a soft voice said.

The hair on Coyote’s shoulders stood on end and he dug his heels into the ground. He lifted his head, a few clumps of red mud clinging to the end of his wet nose. His tense body relaxed when his eyes fell on the raven haired woman seated on a finely woven blanket. Her kind face was illuminated by lights sparkling on the blanket.

“Hey, First Woman,” he said, padding forward. “How’s it going?”

First Woman frowned at him slightly. “You always speak so strangely, Trickster,” she said in an even tone.

“Sorry,” Coyote grumbled. “Yá’át’ééh, First Woman.” She gave him the same smile she always wore around him. Humoring and placating. “So how is it going?”

“Quite well,” she said. She gestured to the thousands of sparkling lights spread out before her on the blanket. “I call them stars.”

Coyote moved forward further and took a seat next to her. He watched the tiny lights twinkle before her moved forward, nudging a few with his nose. He pulled back sharply, a paw covering his nose. “I don’t like’em. They burn.”

First laughed lightly. “I should have warned you. You have to touch them carefully.”

“So what’re these stars for?” Coyote asked, nudging them more carefully now.

The woman sitting there eyed him carefully for a moment, then considered the question before she responded. “To guide me people. To give them hope.” She pointed to a group of stars in the rough shape of a spoon, the handle of which lead the eye generally northward. “These show the way to find this star,” she gestured to one particularly bright star, “it points to the north. It can guide a lost man home to his family.”

Coyote nodded and watching for a few moments as First Woman placed each star carefully into the sky. He cleared his throat. “Can I help?”

The woman seemed surprised, but nodded, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “Of course, Mą’ii.“

Carefully, not wanting to be burned again, Coyote took one of these stars and placed it in the sky. He took great care and created a crooked line of stars in the sky. First Woman frowned at him when he bared his teeth in a proud grin.

“What?“ he said, indignantly. "It’s a snake.“

She shook her head and continued silently in her work. Coyote shrugged and began work on a hunter just above the horizon. First Woman nodded proudly when he’d finished this shape, and Coyote was pleased.

They worked in silence for a long while, which for Coyote was a feat in of itself. When Coyote had finished the shape of two dogs chasing a hare, First Woman laughed, trying to hide it behind her hand.

“What?“ he groaned, trying to see what she found so funny. “It’s me! And big brother, Wolf. We’re chasing Rabbit. Going to catch him this time.“

“The stars can’t be moved now, Trickster, you’ll never catch Rabbit here,“ she said, still stifling laughter.

Growling in frustration Coyote stood and grabbed the blanket’s edge and pulled. Startled First Woman stood quickly, stepping off the blanket. With a fierce movement of his head coyote shook the blanket and the thousands of stars still left to be placed went flying. They found a place and stayed there, shining next to the moon in the sky.

“Mą’ii,“ First Woman scolded. She started to say something else, but stopped herself, pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose, calming herself for a moment. Coyote sat back down, pressing his ears against his head, and turning his face away from First Woman.

“Sorry,“ he said quietly.

First Woman looked up at the sky and her anger seemed to fade. “It’s alright, Coyote, my friend,“ she said and gestured for him to look as well. “It’s beautiful.“

Creating a Character

So, I wasn't going to post anything tonight. I had a shitty day at work and just didn't want to deal with. Period. Then I remembered that that is why I started this in the first place. To make myself feel better after days like today. Mind you, I've learned from the nasty stories about people losing their jobs after posting something not nice about their jobs, so I won't do that. It was just a bad day. One of those days, ya know. One of those days.

But it's over, as of 4 minutes ago it is now January 4th. Much better day. A day off from work. With a nap and a chiropractor appointment being my only plans. Perhaps I shall go to Bookman's finally and get trade value for all my stuff. But mostly I'm going to wallow in my grumpiness.

But I came home and Lord of the Rings: Return of the King was on. And watching Orlando Bloom kill the very large elephant always makes me happy. As does watching Samwise Gamgee kill some orcs. Yes, Sam, shout about the Shire and your gaffer while your trying to infiltrate to orc's tower to save your Mister Frodo. That screams of logic.

I also came home to find the Magnificent Madame J. had ideas about a character I've been half-assedly working on for a couple days now. Nothing about the character, just about what she could do in the story we're all working on. And it was like all of the sudden it clicked. She's a Mal Reynolds personality wise. She has illusion powers that she uses for the good of mankind, and if that's not possible at least for her own amusement. A good person at heart, but not unwilling to hurt other people to get what she wants.

I love creating characters. It can make a day go from hell to ground level in about 20 minutes. It starts with a power. Today's character was shapeshifting. But that was boring today. I didn't particularly want to do just a shape shifter unless there's some catch to it. I've done shape shifters before, but never very well. So I decided to base her powers more in reality altering. But I didn't want to bring up the chance of her being so powerful that could alter history so that Event X never happened. I hate those story lines in comics. Blah. So I decided to change it to illusions. She could change her appearance and the world around her. And it works really well. It helped develop her personality later on.

Next came her name, and for that matter usually ends with changing that name. It's usually the name of one of my friends, just as a filler. Sometimes it works for the character, but usually it doesn't. Today she started off as Alex, which works well as a filler name, because it's fairly generic. (Not to say that all Alex's are generic personalities, I know 3 Alex's at work and none of them are generic. At all.) She was Alex Cummings. Which I was going to keep until I remembered why it sounded so good Alan Cummings. Yay Alan Cummings. Or is it Cumming? That's a possibility. Anyway, I then changed it to Miranda Cummings, (I was watching Lord of the Rings, remember. Miranda Otto plays Eowyn.) And after that many more changes were made until finally we arrived at the name Jenny Bianchi. (See. That's a big difference, I don't want to list ALL the changes. It'd be like, 20 posts worth.) And her appearance is roughly based off of this picture of Cameron from House. It seemed liked fate when I realized that her real name is Jennifer as well.

So next I started working on her history. And this is when it really clicked. She a bitch, and has a thing for practical jokes. She was spoiled growing up and because of that thought she could do whatever she wanted. She's kind of an Emma Frost character.

Anyway. That's a ramble on how I created a character tonight and how it made my mood finally go up after a very shitty day. Now it's 12:59, and I started this post nearly an hour ago. I think it's time for bed.

Goodnight to the world.

Neil Gaiman New Year

New Year's Benediction by Neil Gaiman

I felt like sharing that with the world, not that it isn't already out there, but it's a beautiful sentiment and one that I think suits me very well.

So as of this morning my weight is 191. It seems odd that since last night I've lost 2 lbs. I don't think that's the way it works for more people. I've been able to gain or lose 5 lbs. literally over night. So I can never say, "Yay! I lost five pounds!" Because it could come back to next day. But oh well. If I can keep it going in a downward direction that is good, right?

Watching a bit of an NCIS marathon on USA before I go to work in 13 minutes. I could really do without work. But oh well. It pays the bills and gets me out of the house. Though days like today I'd rather just hang out with my dog.

So this is a short post, I don't have much else to say today. Just wanted to be sure and post something to keep up with one of my resolutions.

2 days into the new year and 2 posts in. I figure it's a good start.

Starting a blog

I realized tonight that I have a blog started on nearly every community available to me. But I never post to any of them. I have decided to remedy this. I think it will make me feel better if I do something regularly every day. And seeing as how this is the first day of 2010, it seems like a good time to start. It will be a New Year's Resolution.

This decision was brought about by Julie & Julia. So far it is a wonderful movie. I haven't finished it yet because there was a power glitch and I had to start all over. I'm certainly not patient enough to start all over, so instead I've put it on fast forward. It's going much quicker than I expected it to, so that's encouraging. I also plan on watching Night at the Museum 2, or something equally mindless, ON DEMAND tonight. My brother and I watched 9 last night. It was really good. Although I was hoping for an ending that was just happy, not so bittersweet.

Anyway, in the movie this rather depressed woman starts a blog, and it seems to make her feel better. Of course her's has, or had I suppose, more purpose than mine, but I think it's still worth a try.

In high school I did ballet every day and ate very little. I weighed 100 lbs. sopping wet. Now, five years and more than one emotional roller coaster later, I weigh 193.8 lbs. So my main New Year's Resolution is to lose weight. I guess that's the Resolution half the world is making today, so I guess I'll just add my name to that list of people. I now have a calendar with ballet dancers on it and my hope is that looking at the calendar with the beautiful dancers of the Austin Ballet will inspire me to really work at it. Every day I weigh myself I'm going to write it down on there. It works in my head, I guess we'll have to wait and see how well it will work in actuality.

My third Resolution is to write without shame and without hesitation. And the same goes for posting on this blog. Even if I offend someone (which seems unlikely considering the number of people reading this and the more substantial number of those not reading it) (I really hope that I don't offend anyone though) I'm not going to apologize.

So, those are my resolutions. I think that those, along with continued regularity with my Zoloft should lead to a happy year overall.

And to encourage myself I'm going to post the short story I'm going to take to the first day of my writing class next semester. It needs a lot of revision, but I think it's actually pretty good.

(Also, I know on LiveJournal, there's way to post a block like this that you can click on to read or not read anyone know how to do that?)

Mama Joan

I stood at the counter staring down into my drink. Try as I might I couldn’t identify the color. It was sort of yellow, but not really. It was sort of orange, but not really. I swirled the liquid in the glass and sighed. Mama Joan would have known what color it was without even having to think about it. I poured the drink down the drain and left the glass in the sink.

I turned around and leaned against the bar, watching the crowd of people who had assembled. They were all family, or at least that’s how they’d been introduced. There was only a handful I recognized and even fewer whose names I knew. A few people had been all but forced out onto the porch in the backyard. We filled the house to overflowing.

I never liked coming over here. Even when I was a kid coming to play with Terry. Uncle Lon went into fits if we tracked even the littlest bit of dirt inside his house. I never could figure out how he managed to keep it so pristine with white walls, white carpets, and even white upholstery. There were never any pictures on the wall.

The night of the wake, though, it appeared that the kids had talked him into hanging Mama Joan’s paintings on the walls. A large landscape hung over the fireplace, catching the light from the glow. A self portrait hung in the entryway. Another landscape hung over the bar.

Uncle Lon didn’t seem to mind people tracking dirt in during the wake. It seemed like a good thing, until I realized why. Uncle Lon was in the center of an ever growing group surrounding the island in the kitchen. They were passing out tequila shots like candy.

“Fifth round!” I heard Lon shout. They all threw their heads back and downed the liquor. Who did tequila shots at a wake?

The people who had a fully stocked bar in their living room.

I scanned that group for Dad. I was relieved when he wasn’t there. Finally I saw him sitting alone in the living room. Even though it was seventy degrees outside, he insisted on making a fire. Joan liked it, he said. He still sat next to the hearth staring at the flames solemnly. I pushed through the strangers and pretended I didn’t hear their obligatory questions about the kids and Tim. I took a seat on the carpet next to Dad’s knee. He smiled down at me, his eyes were tearing up. I rested my chin on his knee and watched the fire crackle.

There was a small group gathered around the over-sized television nearby. Someone had made a DVD with pictures of Mama Joan on it. They were laughing and talking about the time she and her friends went skinny dipping. Back in high school. Apparently Dad had taken the pictures. For no other reason than to provide photographic proof when he tattled on his big sister to Grandma. I glanced up at my father. He wasn’t paying any attention.

“It’s strange not to hear her voice,” he said, hesitating before each word. It was the first thing he said since people started arriving. “Her laugh was always the loudest.”

“That’s because she laughed like a seal, Dad,” I said. He chuckled. At least it was half of a chuckle. It might have been half a sob.

“Be nice,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. He looked into the flames and wiped at his tears. He wouldn’t have wanted me to see. I pretended not to look. I forced my gaze away from the fireplace. I noticed a painting of a woman hanging on the opposite wall. I’d have to get a better look later.

“It’s true.” I licked my lips, wishing I’d kept my drink. “I love that laugh.” Loved, I corrected to myself.

Sitting next to the fire now I was melting, but Dad was right. Mama Joan loved to have a good fire going. Though she’d wait until winter, usually.

I stood up suddenly. “I’m going to get some water, you want some?” He nodded absently, looking back into the fire.

I pushed through the crowd again and as I made my way to the garage I glanced into the guest room. All the kids sat on the floor playing some sort of card game I didn’t recognize. Jim, my baby brother, sat amongst them trying to be one of them. He was twenty-two, but he managed to look quite comfortable in the group of pre-teens. He ruffled Kyle’s hair and Kyle beamed up at his “Uncajim”.

I continued down the hall, trailing my fingers over an oil painting of Mama Joan’s first home. I opened the door to garage and stepped into the cool air. Apparently they’d run out of room and filled ice chests full of drinks and left them outside. I checked the first one and found nothing but rum. Mama Joan loved rum. Everyone brought a bottle. The second one had even more alcohol, ranging from Corona to home-stilled gin in a mason jar. Including an open bottle of chocolate beer that smelled like vomit. I moved onto the third ice chest. Bingo. I grabbed a bottle of water and closed the lid. There was another ice chest full of caffeinated beverages. I looked at the door leading back into the main part of the house. There were so many people in there, I didn’t care to go back inside.

The garage door was open and for that I was thankful. I made my way down the driveway and sat on the curb. I looked back up at my cousins’ house and opened the water. The exterior of the house did not match the inside. The walls were covered in green siding. The shingles on the roof were a darker shade of the same color. It looked just like the other houses on the street. Homeowner’s Association, probably.

I heard footsteps behind me and groaned inwardly, laying my head on my arms. “I didn’t get to say hi to you when you got here, Lisa.” It had to be Penny. No one else cared when I came and went. She wasn’t even technically related. I turned around and smiled at her as she took a seat on the cement. “How are you?”

“I’m ok, I guess.” I took another drink of the water. “And what about you?”

“We’re good,” she said. She always said that. We’re good. It answered all the questions about her and her kids in two words. I never said it right. People always kept asking questions. “How’s Kyle?”

“He wants to change his name to Rain,” I said, and did not elaborate any further. At eight-years-old, my youngest decided to become one with nature. And in nature they don’t take baths. And in nature they kill their food themselves. Like the lizard he brought home and insisted I fry it up for dinner. I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Just a phase, I kept telling myself. Just a phase. Just. A. Phase.

Some bird was hooting in the trees behind me. I glanced up into the trees and squinted, trying to find the shape of a bird. Finally a large owl swooped down over the street and into a tree on the other side. A cat darted out from under a car near the tree and ran down the street. I wondered how the Homeowner’s Association would feel about killer owls and stray cats.

“How about Jade? She still dancing?” I asked Penny, turning my attention back to my cousin. There wasn’t even blood relation and I still liked her more than most of the rest.

“No, no. She’s into cheerleading now,” Penny replied, a proud smile lighting up her face.

Why couldn’t I have normal kids? “That’s great.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Amy’s trying to get me to buy her the Complete Works of William Shakespeare for her birthday. Unabridged.”

“How old is she? Ten?” Penny asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

“Eleven.” I shook my head. Mama Joan would have been so proud of her. I could feel the tears in my chest again. “Did you know Terry’s pregnant? She and Brian are so excited.”

“I know. They already have names. Vanessa for a girl and Robert for a boy.” Penny’s face seemed to darken. She was having the same thought I was.

“Mama Joan will never get to know Vanessa or Robert. And they’ll never get to know her.” I bit back my tears, but Penny didn’t hide her tears. She just let them roll down her cheeks. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and stood up. “I told Dad I’d take him some water. He’s gotta be melting next to that fire.”

“He was starting in the tequila shooters when I came outside.”

Great. He hadn’t had a drink in four months. He’d been doing so well. “Thanks, Penny. Make sure you come over to the house tomorrow and say goodbye before you leave.”

“I will,” she replied as she reached up and squeezed my hand.

I made my way back over to the ice chests and grabbed another bottle of water. I took a deep breath before I started back inside.