On Construction

It's been a hectic few weeks at my humble abode. Long story short, when my husband and I bought our home five years ago, we knew it needed some work, we thought, we'd fix things here and there as we could afford it. One of the HUGE things that needed to be fixed was the ceiling in our master bedroom. We have a regular Bungalow style house, there was a dormer added on upstairs, there were two separate bedrooms making the house a four bedroom. Some dip shit took the center wall out at some point, presumably to make the current large master suite, but they neglected to add any support to the ceiling beams which in turn created a huge problem and made the ceiling beams sag and start to burst through the drywall.



Before



The main reason we decided to get this particular room fixed is because well, it definitely needed it and, we have wild dreams of maybe trying to sell the place in the somewhat near future. We hired a builder, he came over and did his business. His business of tearing down the whole ceiling, putting up two brand new beams, re framing the whole ceiling and then putting drywall back up and mudding and taping.



After



Once he got everything down he let us know what a wreck our house really was. None of the beams were physically attached to anything, you could just lift them up. The ceiling fans were not properly mounted, they were TAPED to the electrical box, there were HOT wires running throughout the wall with burn marks on them giving him the impression that they had been sparking within the walls. In other words, it was a hot mess.

Of course, my husband and I had to move completely out of the bedroom during this whole process. I set up shop in my little office and curled up on a mini-futon for two weeks (with a Chihuahua and a giant cat) and he made a bed in the basement. Let me just tell you, sleeping on a mini-futon with two pets is hell on the back.

I finally finished up the painting last weekend (I was grateful that it wasn't 100 degrees outside like it was when I originally painted the room) and we started moving back in. It's like a whole new bedroom, and now we don't have to worry about our ceiling collapsing on us in the night.

My next project is peeling wallpaper out of out half bath upstairs and replacing the ugly ass brass accents, getting a smaller sink/cabinet, and putting a new floor in. It's only taken me five years to get around to it, and it sucks. Now I know why I've waited so long.





On New Beginnings

Well, it seems if I don't have some sort of goal, ie: blogging a post a day, I won't post in this thing at all. I've got no damn discipline. Of course, if you know me, you'd know that by now.

In the wake of my not working on my current manuscript, for probably months, with the exception of working on it for like two days a few weeks back, I've decided to start another project. I know, I know, you're probably thinking... dumb ass, if you won't work on your existing manuscript, what makes you think you'll work on a second one? Well, you may be right, but based on my half-assed research, if a writer has a couple projects going, they can get some clarity and maybe come up with some new ideas for a project they're stumped on. Case in point, I have no idea where to take the story in manuscript #1 right now. It's already blossomed and changed from when I started it, and now I'm stuck, frustrated, I want to throw the whole thing out the window, but I know there's some good work in there.

Last night I started plotting out the bones of a new project, a book of short stories, which frankly has its own following. There aren't a lot of people who will respect of book of short stories, but for some, short stories are right up their alley. Of course, this will be something different, something edgier, something that might make your jaw drop, or maybe it will be crap. Only time will tell.

On Happiness

There is a handful of things, ideas, people that make me happy, but it seems like the idea of happiness always fades does it not? Whether it seems like a cop-out or not, my pets always make me happy. They're so unconditional, with the exception of my parrot, he can be a hateful little prick. Though, to his credit, he does warm up my heart when I'm uncovering his cage in the morning, and in his pitiful little bird voice he says Hello. I know he's probably not actually saying hello to me, but in my groggy state, I like to think so.

Then there is my fluffy little cat. He used to be a standoffish bastard, he'd come near you, on his terms, or when he wanted to eat. He can be an awful little brat, especially when food is concerned, but he also makes me laugh my ass off when he gets that crazy look in his eye, pins his ears back and runs bat-shit crazy through the house, possibly stopping to ninja kick someone. I do believe that since he had some life-saving surgery, he's changed his tune and he's much sweeter now. He likes to at least be in the same room as J or I unless of course there is a thunderstorm, thunder really gets his goat. He'll take naps with the dog, give him baths, even sit on the couch with us, as long as we don't touch him. He definitely makes things interesting.

And then there is the baby of the house. He can also be a little shit, for instance, he loves feces, any kind of feces will do, if it's in the yard or in the litter box, he digs it. He loves to roll in it, the smellier, the better in his opinion. He enjoys sneaking into the basement and marking or leaving a little turd for one of us to find. Otherwise, you can find him passed out on the couch. I mean, this dog is the laziest Chihuahua I've ever met. I love him because he digs the outdoors. Going for a walk in the woods? He's down. Hammocking on a warm summer day? Let's do it. Camping in the National Forest for the weekend? Okay! There isn't much this little guy won't do. It also doesn't hurt that he's a little cuddle-bug.

Even when I'm feeling down in the dumps, it's comforting to know I've got these guys at home to keep me company and just hang out with me when I'm feeling a bit blah. The dog also reminds me to stop being a selfish asshole and get over it because he needs to go out for a walk.

On Resurgence

Generally, my posts aren't very sincere or personal, but lately, I've been feeling like I need to vent. Blog, right?

I stopped taking the medication because while on it, I couldn't feel anything. I didn't feel happiness or excitement, or even the giddiness a normal person feels when something pretty awesome is about to happen. I didn't feel sad, I didn't get upset, absolutely nothing phased me. I was, for lack of a better word, numb to everything, I simply, was. I stopped taking it, because I felt like, I should have feelings, feelings about life.

I can't dispute that the medication worked for me, it absolutely did. It's sometimes amazing what scientists and physicians concoct chemically to counteract with a person's internal chemistry to make them come out alright, or at least make it possible for them to walk down the street day after day. I didn't feel those jitters, my heart did not race, it didn't feel like it was going to burst out of my chest. I didn't feel like I was suffocating and drowning. I didn't feel like I was going to die. I wasn't afraid of the next instance, I didn't think about the what ifs. I could walk around the world confidently, like a normal person. I wasn't thinking about my triggers.

This last time that I stopped taking it, I thought, I'll work this out naturally. I'll exercise, visualize, breathe, do yoga, check in to natural supplements. There's got to be a more healthy way than eating chemicals. I've exercised, I've visualized, I've breathed. These little steps quell the small instances, but I really can't control those major instances, the ones that feel like they're taking over my entire being.

I'm not sure I can hold out on my own any longer. Those thoughts are returning. The ones that keep me from living my life. The ones that keep me close to home, isolated. I can't help but think, what if I go do this, and I have a meltdown? Surely, I could just leave, but what if I couldn't? All those little what ifs, they really shouldn't matter. Living life is all about the experiences, and if you don't have those experiences, well, you're not really living your life are you?

On Mail

For whatever reason, I have a sick obsession with hard cover books. I don't know what it is about them that I love. Maybe it's because they seem almost indestructible with their tough exterior. Maybe I think they're the "hardasses" of the literary world. Paperbacks can get torn, ruffled, bent, tattered. But hardcovers, well, they're a whole different beast.

I've been on a kick of collecting some of my favorite books in hard cover. I've been trolling the local used book store to seize up their collection, I've been scanning Amazon for the best deals. Even though I've read these books at least a few times each, I still get excited about having them, about reading them again at some point. There's something about buying a used book that's in good condition. A used book sort of tells you two stories, the one that's printed on the pages, and the one that its condition will grant you.

I'm sort of a snob about buying used books though. The dust jacket has to be in pretty decent condition, the pages have to be just right, and the binding absolutely cannot be broken. My two most recent acquisitions were The Shining and Interview with the Vampire. Enclosed in this mail parcel was The Shining.

I still need a few more books to round out my "favorites" collection, I do still need to first four Dexter books for instance. After that, I might just continue to troll the used book stores for other books by my favorite authors.

On Colour!

Another work week has passed, it's Friday the 13th and everyone is hiding up their ass. I've never been over superstitious of Friday the 13th. I mean, it just doesn't seem too menacing when it happens in April. In case you want to get a head start, the next one takes place in July... I'm just sayin'.

Photo Processing Fun

J and I have undertaken a somewhat huge housing project in order to sell this place. He's starting moving items out of one of our bedrooms so we can start tearing out drywall and cleaning mold off the beams (it's a long story.) Afterwards, we'll be tearing the ceiling out of our master bedroom to replace sagging beams because some dumb ass took out a supporting wall turning that room into a huge master bedroom. Said dumb ass didn't put any support in the wall's place, so now the ceiling is trying to drop like it's hot.

The Actual Colors I'm Considering

Before we considered trying to sell this place I was imaging that since we'll have to do some repainting, why not repaint the whole house while everything is awry? Originally when we bought this place 5 years ago, I painted with cheap paint, in June, while it was 90 degrees outside, and really humid. Let's just say, the job doesn't look professional. I'd be happy painting this place in shades of blue and green, but since I do live with a man, I suppose I have to take his opinion into account as well.

However, now that we're considering trying to sell this place once it's fixed, these just might be the colors in our new house. I'm already dreaming about a little bit of land so I don't have to look at or speak to my neighbors, plenty of land for the little Chihuahua to frolic around on. I'm dreaming of a house that isn't rotting, a house that I actually love before we decide to buy it.

On Self-Portraits

Well, it's a brand new month. I've done nothing noteworthy with these first seven days of April, other than start to get my hot mess of a house fixed up so that hopefully one day I can sell this piece.

I've decided to start a new blogging venture, in the form of pictures. If I haven't mentioned it before, I sort of like taking pictures. I got the idea to do this while looking at really old family pictures of my great grandparents, and great-great grandparents. There were so many posed family shots, and J brought up an interesting point, no one does this anymore. What better way to document something than with pictures.

So, I'll work on posting a photo or two a week, with a different theme. Today I had a little fun with self-portraiture, photographing one's reflection. But isn't a photo of you a reflection on its own? So, wouldn't this be a reflection of a reflection? And maybe it even looks like I'm reflecting within reflection, within a reflection... you know, like Inception, all the dream within a dream bullshit. Okay, that's too confusing, here's what I came up with.

I always love to showcase my dark hair and eyes. Blondes might have more fun, but brunettes are more mysterious and highly indecipherable.

On Not Finishing What You Started

Well I missed the thirty-first day of my month-long blog challenge, but does that really surprise any of you? The important thing is that I kept up with it for at least... thirty days. Well, mostly.

To sum up my month long goals from earlier last month:

• I didn't get 10,000 more words finished on the book. As a matter of fact, I didn't work on the book at all, all month. Shame, shame on me.
• I had a marginal St. Patty's Day party on my front lawn. A few friends, a few drinks, sitting in a circle in my driveway. It was a good day however.
• I only spent 6 days straight playing the new Resident Evil game... because that's how long it took me to beat it.
• Umm.. I didn't keep up an exercise routine at all, though I had been taking my dog for regular walks while the weather was nice and I did go for one five mile bike ride.
• Jackasses annoy me even more.

For my next endeavor, I'm thinking about doing some sort of photo post. Maybe a once or twice a week picture post with a small description, because, we all know I can't post every single day.

Here's to April showers!

On Day Thirty

When you meet someone new, you generally meet the best version of that person. Once you actually get to know them, you see who they really are. I've mentioned my own dual personalities in a previous post. But to tell you who I am? Well, that's a bit tough.

• I'm a daughter
• I'm a sister
• I'm a wife
• I'm a friend
• I'm an animal caregiver
• I'm a writer
• I'm an employee
• I'm a co-worker

As for what I really am... I'm just a girl, trying to get by, working an average job, living in an average house, in an average neighborhood. I'm flawed, I'm fickle, I'm stubborn, I'm selfish, I'm a procrastinator, I'm frail, I'm easy-going, I'm shy, I'm a bitch. This is starting to sound like that Meredith Brooks song. I'm a book lover, I'm a story-teller. I'm a nautical nerd (I love shipwreck stories involving the Great Lakes.) I'm a weather junkie, I'm a lover, not a fighter, but I will cut a bitch if I have to. I have no patience, I'm a bottler, I'm anxiety ridden, I'm numb to certain emotions for a time, until I burst like a water balloon. I'm complicated, I'm simple, I'm easily annoyed, I'm sarcastic, I'm catty. I'm a perfectionist at work, I'm laid-back at home, I'm disorganized. I'm forgetful, I'm not perfect, and I'm okay with that.

I think this is a fair enough assessment of who I am. I'm sure I've missed something, as I am forgetful after all. I'm not always pleasant, but I'm decent, and for some reason, the few people in my life actually want to stick around me despite my flaws. That makes them bad ass in my book.

And who are you?

On Day Twenty Nine

People always say it's okay to make mistakes as long as you learn from them. Or, if you try out a new endeavor, whether you like it or not, what's important is what you take from it. Well maybe this is all true, or maybe it's a bunch of hooey to make you feel better about screwing up or doing something you hate.

I often try to learn from each experience. For instance, I've learned that I can be too impulsive at times which often leads to mistakes that could have been otherwise avoided if I actually took a moment to think things through. Then there are other times when I'm way too analytical and I take so much time thinking that a wonderful opportunity passes me by. It's a vicious cycle, it seems like there's no happy medium with me. But... the important thing is that I take life lessons from each mistake I stumble in to. There, I feel better already.

So I suppose since this blog challenge is almost over, I ought to tell you what I've learned from writing a post a day for a whole month. I've learned that there is actually some discipline somewhere in me to actually write something every day. I've had a tough time actually disciplining myself to work on my book each day, I always come up with some excuse, like oh, but the weather is so beautiful, or I can't think of anything good to write today, I don't want to write shit. Or the big one, I just don't feel like it. Which is exactly why it took 3 years for me to get my first book out into the world, and I'm already a year deep into my current book. While I'm about half way to it being a  full-length novel, I should be way farther along than that. I'll be the first to admit, I'm lazy, there, I admit it. However, the desire to write is in me. I think about it every day, I'm always thinking about my story, where it's been, where it should go next, it's always on my mind. I think about the next project, what I want it to be like, and so on. The main problem is getting my ass in the seat and actually doing it.

I've come up with an excuse for not wanting to write, it's probably totally invalid, but I'll tell you anyway. Every day, I sit in a little beige cubicle in front of a computer, I have a set work station that I spend 40 hours a week at. At home, I have an entire room set aside for my writing and holding my little library. This is what I wanted mind you, I wanted an area that was just mine, for writing. The more I sit in there and write though, the more I feel like I'm trapped in one solitary place and it makes me feel all... itchy. Like, I've got to revolt and get the hell outta there. Granted, working on a desk top, you are kind of limited in where you can work. So lately I've been thinking about my old laptop which is at least a decade old and doesn't want to boot up anymore. I'm wondering if it would be worth it to get the thing cleaned out or whatever so it actually runs, or should I drop some cash on a new laptop? (<--- This is my impulsive side coming out.) And I can make it sound reasonable by saying... it's for my work! See how warped this can really become?

Have you done anything this month that you've taken a life lesson from?

On Day Twenty Eight

Sometimes a year feels like an eternity. Sometimes it flies by without a moment's notice. A lot can happen in a year, or very little can happen in a year. Mostly my time spent is completely unremarkable, and that's not entirely a bad thing. I'd rather have nothing noteworthy happen than have something bad happen, I think that's generally the case for most people. Disclaimer: This post of kind of a downer, I apologize in advance.

This was taken last February at Boyne Mountain in the upper part of Lower Michigan (oxymoron right?) Near the top of the Mitten, if that helps. At this point in time, life was completely ordinary. Aside from dealing with some minor anxiety issues, and having a sinus infection at the time (which I cured with sitting in the eucalyptus steam room they have at the spa), everything was just fine. I was plodding through life, just looking forward to Spring. I had a few things to look forward to, such as my pal's birthday celebration, which was off the hook, summer vacation, hanging at the park, etc. Everyone in my life seemed content, which, made me content.

Fast forward, one year later, a lot has happened, and none of it good. Between February 2011 and March 2012, it's been a pretty stressful time. Not so good for one prone to flipping out with anxiety. It started with losing a good friend, not just to me, but to my entire circle of friends, a partner for my best friend, a piece of sunshine in all of our lives. For the first month or so, I was completely numb to the idea, I was too busy trying to comfort my friend, I didn't have time to think about it. But now that the dust has settled, I've got all the time in the world to think about how life won't be the same.

About a month after that, just after Christmas, my parents had to put my childhood dog to sleep. While it was expected, since he was 15 and declining in health, it was especially tough since he and I grew up together. However, I am happy to report that they adopted a new dog and he's fitting in well with the family, despite the fact that their cats are a couple of little bitches and they hate this poor dog.

And finally, to cap it all off there has been some health concerns with my grandfather. At 90 years old, he's sharp as a tack and generally healthy to boot, I mean, the man still goes to work! He is tough as an ox, okay. I can say this in all honesty, my grandpa is bad ass. However, he had been in and out of the hospital since the beginning of the year for various reasons and the situation was iffy. Luckily, everything is just ducky and he's back to his old routine of raising hell and hanging out at work.

This was a lot to take in in the course of a year. I'm honestly surprised I didn't just blow my cap and go completely off the deep end. However, going through such events, and handling them as I did, I know that when something tough gets thrown at me, I can deal with it. I'm not going to lose my shit.

For the next year, I'm hoping to keep things completely unremarkable. I need things to be boring for a bit. I'll simply look forward to vacations and losing myself and enjoying the time and the people that I've got.

On Day Twenty Seven

I'm nearly done with this blog challenge business, only four more days to go after today. After blogging every day (mostly) I've decided that after this, I'll probably only do a weekly post, maybe two a week. That way, if I'm not as readily available you guys might miss me more, ha ha, fat chance right?

I started doing this blog-a-day thing because a friend suggested it. It was a great idea by the way. Also, I never really posted anything worth while in this thing, well, at least nothing that anyone would want to read. I mean, do you really give a shit if I am or am not making progress on my book? Nope, I didn't think so. If I post a good-lookin' picture that I took, you might be interested enough to be like.. that's a nice picture, good shot. Or whatever. But really, when it comes to reading a stranger's blog, what is it that pulls you in? The writer has to be entertaining, am I wrong?

I thought I might pick up a few ideas for the book, maybe I would jog some deep, dark recess in my mind and I would write something brilliant, I'd go on to win several prestigious book awards, and the Nobel prize for literature! Okay, I'll admit, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'd be happy with a little unknown Indie book award, but you see where I'm getting at right? I was just trying to keep the creativity flowing. If you're a writer it helps if you actually, I don't know, write something.

My husband says I should be working on several different projects at once. If I'm working on a manuscript, why not start a second one, or start a book of short stories? Dip the pen into different pots, well, I say, that's how one picks up VD. I've tried to work on a few different projects at once, and do you know what happened? Nothing got done. I'm pretty sure I'm linear minded and I can only concentrate on one big thing at once, ie: a single manuscript.

I've sincerely enjoyed working on this challenge even though most days I was a little bitch about it and whined about how I didn't want to blog, but I did it anyway. Even though I missed two days, I still made up for it, by at least acknowledging the missed day in the next day's blog... whoops.

On Day Twenty Six

I usually come to work with low expectations on a Monday. Today my expectations were even lower due to the fact that my boss is out of town until Friday. Believe it or not, I actually find that work is better when he's available, mainly because I get harassed less because I can stay on top of every little task that comes at me. Meaning, that since he's gone, I'm doing double duty at my desk, which prevents other people from getting their checks right away. Sorry dudes, the work at my desk is more important. This is what causes said harassment... where's my money?! If only I could be so demanding come pay day.

That's why it's important to have outlets outside of work that help soothe and de-stress you. This is where friends come in. I've got a very small circle of friends, mainly because I just really don't care for a lot of people, a lot of people annoy me (disclaimer: I know I annoy people as well, so the door swings both ways.) And I've really only got one friend that I can tell anything to. Actually, I prefer it this way. At least with a small circle, you're not obligated to hang out with a bunch of different people and you don't piss off other friends by being unavailable because you're hanging out with someone else.

These are a few people that I see most often. That young man there, I've known since I was eleven years old. So, we're going on eighteen years of friendship. Gasp, we're a whole legal adult! This is the cat that I can tell anything to, this one knows me better than anyone and he can immediately brighten up a shitty mood, I'm pretty sure we're life partners. To me, this guy is the dog's tuxedo and there isn't much I wouldn't do for him. That young lady I've known for probably six or seven years, we often get mistaken for sisters. I suppose there is a resemblance. She is one of the few chicks that I actually get along with, probably because we feel the same about a lot of shit. This girl, is pretty friggen' awesome. 

Which leads me to this young lady. I've known her for the same amount of time, and I actually met her at my job. It turned out that we knew the same people, but didn't know each other. As soon as we discovered that we ran in the same circles, we became immediate friends. This chick and I have a lot in common personality wise which is why we click so well, and we also feel the same about most topics. Also one of the few chicks I actually get along with.

With my small circle of friends, we can be doing nothing or anything and still have a pretty great time. Seriously, it doesn't take much to entertain this bunch. We often spend a lot of low-key time together, at someone's house, or at a local pub, whatever the day/evening brings and it's just nice to let everything else melt away when spending time with friends.

Do you prefer to have a large group of friends or a small, tight-knit circle?

On Day Twenty Five

The weekend is winding down again and the weather is a bit more seasonal now. Though, it's pretty damn apparent that I have to cut my lawn, in March! It's growing in obscenely wild patches and it's really getting out of hand.

My weekend was pretty quiet and low key, generally how I like it. Though I'm already anticipating weekend camping trips or day trips, I'm itching to get the hell outta Dodge. Whenever we go out to some park or some beach, we generally like to take our dog with us (he's a 12 pound Chihuahua) and he loves the outdoors, which is great because when the weather cooperates, that's where we're at. Often times, the beach rules state that no dogs are allowed. We generally disregard these rules and smuggle him in, which could result in our expulsion from said beach. It's not like we let our dog walk around dropping a deuce on the sand for other beach goers to step in. He does his business outside the grounds, off the beaten path, which we actually pick up.

Most recently, we headed up I-94 towards Port Huron and we decided to take our dog, even though the rules specifically said, no dogs on beach, but they could be at the park. Well, we were going to the beach, so I stuffed him in my beach bag and casually walked in like nothing was wrong. We found a secluded little section in some wild grass at the back of the beach where we could lay a towel down and let him hang out. The best thing about him is, he's a totally laid back kinda guy, he just laid down on the towel and watched his surroundings, he didn't even make a peep. He enjoyed the lake breeze blowing through his fur, and he was perfectly content.

On another occasion, we headed further north up to Tawas Point, where we often camp in the National Forest. Another past time that the dog loves. I think he feels like a real dog wandering around the woods, sniffing things out, off leash. We often go to the beach there to spend the day. I did the same thing, crammed him in my beach bag and smuggled him in all stealth like. We find a nice spot on the sand next to some other people so we can blend in and I look over to see a stroller. I'm thinking, shit we gotta move, we're next to a baby! Surprise, surprise there is a tiny toy Chihuahua peaking its little face out of the stroller. That was the most brilliant ruse I'd ever seen. I had to give that chick props for smuggling her dog into the beach in one of the most creative ways possible.

Have you ever tried to sneak a furry companion somewhere where they weren't supposed to be?

On Day Twenty Four

When did the weekend stop being such a big deal? Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy the weekend, sleeping in a few extra hours, not working, resetting, but I don't find it necessary to party every weekend, or to be out on the town. For instance, last night after work I got a pizza, played some video games, and watched Pretty In Pink with my husband. Doesn't sound too exciting right? Well, it wasn't, but it was just right.

Typically since he has Saturday off we wander over to the local Starbucks (which we'll be doing as soon as I finish this) and then stopping by his parents house for dinner, his mom is a great cook, I am lacking. The idea of going out tonight is inviting, but there's really no feeling of urgency to get out there. This is a typical weekend routine of mine.

Another routine I have is reading for about a half hour or so before bed. I recently read a study which stated that reading before bed keeps you awake because it stimulates your mind. Well, I must be a freak because reading before bed knocks me right out, there's just something soothing about it.

Right now I'm currently re-reading The Great Gatsby which I read eleven years ago in high school English. The great thing about reading it again is, since I don't have a great memory, it's like reading a brand new book. All these years I was thinking about how much I loved the book because it's written and takes place in the 20's (one of my favorite time periods) and then I got to thinking, damn I really need to read that again, as an adult. There's so much that went over my head when I read it as a sixteen year old. Now, I realize the book is down right saucy.

I've always had some romanticized idea of the 20's in my head. Flappers, bootlegging, exquisite French parties, the whole nine. Maybe that's why I fell in love with The Great Gatsby. And then of course I watched Midnight in Paris which was completely the opposite of what I thought it was going to be. As I was watching, I was thinking about how I had the same ideas in my head as Owen Wilson's character did about the literary 1920's. Don't get me wrong, this movie is a little kooky, but worth a watch if you're an aspiring writer.

My strongest routine is reading however. It doesn't matter where I am, I have to have a book on hand. I'll read on my lunch break at work, that is, if I don't doze of for twenty minutes instead, I'll read while on vacation, I'll read while laying in a hammock at the park, I'll read on vacation. Luckily, I've still got a pretty strong reading list lined up, so I won't need to hunt for a new book for some time.

What's one of your routines that you absolutely have to follow?

On Day Twenty Two.. and Twenty Three

Oops... I did it again. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Please don't label me as a Britney Spears lover, because I don't care for that slag at all. An after hours co-worker get together at the local watering hole turned into an all night affair, which left me no time for blogging. I know, I know, I should get my priorities straight, blog first, party later, but I wouldn't have anything to blog about without partying, right?

Though, I won't even get into last night, it would bore you immensely. Instead I'll talk about what I meant to talk about... yesterday, and today of course.

Everyone likes to think they are a beautiful and unique snowflake, which if you've read or watched Fight Club you know is not true. All day yesterday I was trying to think of something that made me different from everyone else. I was thinking about my personality, my character, hobbies, my crustacean pincers that I have for toes, my likes and dislikes and I got to thinking, there isn't much that sets me a part. I'm pretty much just like everyone else, with a few little fun exceptions. I don't think it's necessarily bad to not stand out from the crowd, but that's probably because I prefer to blend in. Don't get me wrong, I occasionally enjoy the lime light, I mean, who doesn't? But generally, I like to keep to myself, and keep others guessing about me. Okay, I suppose there might be one thing that sets me apart, I'm not an open book right away. I've got two different personalities, there's the personality that the people who've known for a long time get (the real me), and then there's the pretend personality (not me at all.) I often exhibit this personality at work, my co-workers seem to think I'm such a quiet, sweet gal who never uses curse words and is easily offended. Now, if you see (the real me) you know that I'm a scumbag jokester who sometimes curses like a sailor. This may or may not be okay, but that's who I am.

There are often things that I think about that I want intensely. If it's something to purchase, I usually have to save up enough cabbage to purchase them. For instance, I recently bought a Canon Rebel T2i which I'd been coveting for years. I'm pretty passionate about photography, and while I'm no Annie Leibovitz, I do get lucky from time to time with certain shots. With my new camera, I've been capturing some pretty spectacular shots, and I'm all of a sudden in love with dslr technology.

Then there's the other standard cravings, like food cravings, I think we all have those. Sometimes I crave salt (apparently that means you're dehydrated), sometimes I crave sweets. I know I should stay away from the garbage food, it's not good for me, and will likely give me a fat ass in the future, but sometimes I just can't say no. Sometimes there's nothing more satisfying than a bag of chips or a Hershey Bar. I don't nearly eat enough vegetables, and since I'm a vegetarian, that's kind of an oxymoron, huh?

But what do I crave a lot? Well, it's usually something I can't have right away, which makes me want it all the more. Isn't that always the truth? Right now, I'm actually trying to procure some hard cover copies of some of my favorite books. I don't know why, but hard cover is just better. Some of the books I'm trying to get are a little pricey, so it's going to take some digging around to find them cheaper and in good condition, but it's worth the wait.

What is something that you're always craving?

On Day Twenty One

Well, I was happy go lucky yesterday (a rare occurrence for me) but today, it's back to normal. I did enjoy a quick five mile bike ride last night though, the first of the season. It's my intention to continue taking advantage of this weather tonight and perhaps find a nice, smooth surface to get some longboarding in.

I'm generally a frenzied person, it feels like I'm always racing around, or always thinking about something. The moments are few and far between when I can just be.

One of my favorite places to be is at one of the local parks or beaches. This shot is in the marina section of Metro Beach which is on the eastern most part of S.E. Michigan. If you're a local, you know Metro Beach reeks, the water is definitely not clean, there's dead fish a plenty and there's an oily residue which coats the surface of the water. I haven't been in that water in at least fifteen years. All of that aside, the scenery is beautiful. I've gotten some spectacular shots at this place. I often take my chihuahua here for long walks on the boardwalk, though he's happiest running along the trails in the woods, leash free. 

In the summer, you can often find me at either this park, or another, a bit further north west, hammocking in a little alcove with my little dog or taking pictures. It's here where I can peacefully read a book, or snooze under a canopy of trees, or just listen to the birds chirp and the wind rustle through the trees. Some people say "there's no place like home." I say, "there's no place like nature." 

What is one of your favorite places to relax?                                                                     

On Day Twenty

This weather is amazing, and it feels completely natural... even though it's the middle of March. While I'm soaking up every bit of sun I can muster, I can't help but be a little weary of the seasons to come. Does this mean we'll be sweating our sacks off come summer? Are we going to struggle through a drought and have to punch our neighbors in the throat for water? The utter lack of snow was apparent last weekend went I went to one of the local parks and the lakes were seriously low. It made me really wonder what's in store for the Spring and Summer.

When I was a teenager, I had a general idea of where I thought I wanted to be. I thought I'd have a decent job (I do), I'd be married (I am), I'd have a decent house (I do), and I'm pretty much where I thought I'd be. For some reason, it always bothered me when people asked, "Where do you see yourself in five years? Ten years?" How the hell am I supposed to know? I don't have a Delorian in which I can travel back to Hilldale as it's being constructed.

I honestly can't say where I'll be in another ten years from now. I have an idea of where I'd like to be. Mostly I'd just like to be a somewhat successful novelist, just successful enough to sustain a comfortable life style. That's not too much to ask right?

The only problem is, I have to stop procrastinating and actually "work" like every day.

So, to be an ass, where do you see yourself in ten years?

On Day Nineteen

Monday again. Y'all know how my weekend went, so I won't even get into it. How was your St. Patty's Day? Were you overcome with green beer and other Irish spirits?

Geek alert: I may have a hard time posting tomorrow as the long awaited Resident Evil is being released and I've got to scoot my ass to the nearest Best Buy and pick up a copy. Not to mention, it's supposed to be 80 degrees in the Mitten tomorrow. I'm sure you understand.

Over the years I've been called a lot of things, sometimes they were nice, sometimes not so nice. Let me tell you, a person never likes it when you call them ass face. I have a couple nicknames that aren't entirely amusing or creative, but I will answer to all of them.

• Kate = umm... this one is not too hard, it's a shortened version of my name. My husband seems to think it's more "grown up."
• Bear = you'll think this is disgusting, it's his pet name for me, which is better than what I call him.
• Kate the Pince = If you've ever seen Trailer Park Boys, you know what I'm talking about, if not, lets just say my big and second toe resemble something of a pincer.
• Crab Toe = See above.
• Katiesss = I didn't know I was plural, but friends of mine started saying it and wouldn't stop.
• Kat = I don't really like this one, makes me sound like an old stripper.
• Katy-Did = Being called an insect that makes an annoying sound, there are worse things.

These are just the most recent things people call me... to my face any way. I've had at least a dozen other nicknames throughout the years, but I won't bore you with that.

What's one nice thing that people call you?

On Day Seventeen... and Eighteen

Okay, I screwed up. I knew I would. I wish I had a legitimate excuse for not posting yesterday, like I was out drinking all day, but I can't lie to you. What I was really doing was sitting in my back yard taking advantage of the 70+ degree weather listening to the live bands play down the street. I then went out for a leisurely coffee and dinner, and then had some friends over. Nothing too exciting.

I expected the shenanigans to be much wilder than what actually transpired. In St. Patty's Days past, there were colonies of drunks stumbling up and down the street, falling all over each other and on their faces. This just wasn't so yesterday. I guess the recession is really hitting those folks who think they're Irish.

So, this post today will be a twofer, combining yesterday and today's topics in to one.

I generally think that I wouldn't want to trade places with anyone. I like to think that I'm not too materialistic, but to be honest, I do like nice things. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with what I've got, but I do sometimes envy those bastards with palatial sea side mansions who want for nothing.

To be completely honest, I don't know what I'd do with all that space, I'd probably wander around aimlessly wondering what sort of retro motif I could put into play somewhere. I'd get bored with my empty space and just line the walls with books, at least I wouldn't have to worry about where to store my collection. My cat and my chihuahua could four-wheel throughout the mansion until the cows came home, and then they could sun bathe in one of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. I could have an indoor-outdoor atrium for my parrot to enjoy the sun light and hear other birds squawking, but he'd still be safe from the elements, and other creatures.

All this ties into today's topic, plans, dreams, and goals. All that mansion talk could be a dream. Though, as long as that mansion had a lot of land around it so I wouldn't have to look at or talk to my neighbors, I'd be happy as a clam.

My plans are to one day, work for myself, to fully sustain myself on writing. Though, I know this is an iffy plan and no guarantee, I suppose it's also part of a dream. But then again, who doesn't dream of working for themselves?

Goals, well it's my goal to finish this second book in less time than it took me to finish the first one (roughly three years.) Mainly because I procrastinate way too much and it's tough to work all day at the office and then have the will power to come home and stare at the screen for a few more hours. Excuses, excuses though. I'm about a year deep in to this project, so if it takes another year to finish it, well I guess I'm in good shape.

What are some of your goals for the future?

On Day Sixteen

It's finally Friday. It's felt like the longest week ever. 5:00 really couldn't have come soon enough today. It was an extremely long and stressful week, and I'm thankful that I can just be for two days. On a completely different note, I totally forgot that the bar (five houses away from me) opens at 7:00am tomorrow. I seriously hope they don't start rocking out with the music that early. I have no concrete St. Patty's plans, other than helping my mother buy a new computer, which, she hasn't done in over a decade... Friends might possibly be gathering at my abode later on for some Green festivities, but frankly, I don't give a shit about the holiday.

Today I am supposed to post a "baby" picture of myself, but since I'm not completely up to date with the latest technology, that's not possible. It's too bad too, my baby pictures would haunt your dreams. All I could come up was this:

 

I'm probably like 12 here, circa 1995. You can see how hardcore I am because I'm rockin' a suede vest with a tank top underneath. Yes, I was a fashion daredevil. I'm pretty sure that the poofiness of my hair is thanks to the remnants of a perm as well. That's right, I said it, a perm! This is my mother and I at Frankenmuth which if you've never heard of it, is Michigan's Little Bavaria, also known as a complete tourist trap. I don't remember this day at all, even though there's photographic proof of my being there, but I'm almost certain I had a terrible time. I went back there with my husband last year and it was so... bleck. A big German tourist trap. Of course, if you love chicken dinners, apparently they have phenomenal ones. I'll give them this though, they do make some sweet fried green beans. 

Speaking of pictures, when I was younger, I never saw too many pictures of me as a baby, just as a toddler and up. For the longest time I was convinced I was adopted. I based this on the fact that I didn't see baby pictures of me, and because I'm the only one in my immediate family who has brown eyes. Never mind the strong resemblance I bear to my dad, and my paternal grandmother and great aunt. This type of information is lost on a young kid. 

Now that I'm an "adult" I've got an affinity for taking pictures, so I can remember things when I'm older. Why just the other day, I was snapping pictures at my parent's house and I took some of my mom (who hates having her picture taken by the way.) She later threatened to beat my ass if I didn't delete those pictures. Well, I didn't delete them, but I promised not to post them on the "Internet." 

What's one of your favorite memories as a kid? 

On Day Fifteen

It's nearly the end of the week, and St. Patty's Day. Always cause for celebration. The weather is still beautiful here, I do believe it was about 75 degrees... in March, so after work I decided to take advantage and ride my motorbike. Little did I know I was tooling around the area during tornado warnings. Luckily, I got home before anything happened, and nothing has happened as of yet.

Getting back to the subject of music, today I'll be running down a list of ten of the first songs that show up on my iPod on the shuffle mode. Interesting stuff, right?

1. The Flaming Lips - Do you Realize? Umm... this song is totally depressing, but it speaks the truth.
2. Weezer - Butterfly. Old school Weezer always makes me think of high school. My circle of friends and I only ever used to listen to Weezer together. Driving around the neighborhood looking for trouble, hanging out in each other's basement... Weezer!
3. Bob Dylan - Mr. Tambourine Man. This song reminds me of what it feels like to wake up with a hangover.
4. Lady GaGa - Born This Way. Being different (left handed, or what have you) is okay, and the beat gives you a reason to party.
5. Imogen Heap - Just For Now. This is a flighty song that for whatever reason makes me feel good, and makes me think of the movie "The Holiday."
6. Sponge - Rainin'. Classic mid 90's rock. A great song if you're feeling down in the dumps. It probably won't make you feel any better, but it's great stuff. This song often played after hours at the record store I worked at as a teenager, along with the rest of the Rotting Pinata album.7. Panic At the Disco - Nine in the Afternoon. I really don't know why I have this song, there was just something about it. I guess it's got a catchy beat.


8. The Doors - People Are Strange. Yes they are. Myself included. I've had an affinity for The Doors for years now. True rock.
9. Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody. Wayne's World anyone? I'm sorry, the song is obviously older than that, but all I can think about is Dana Carvey and Mike Myers in that old Pinto head banging to this song.
10. Pixies - Where is My Mind? Another obvious one. Fight Club. All I ever envision is the closing scene. A great book, a great movie, a great song.

The range really varies. I listen to music to do all sorts of things. Exercise. Clean. Organize. Ride my bicycle. Drive. Fold laundry... well, you get the idea. Though, I'm not one of those people that can listen to music while writing. I've tried it, I really had. Music with lyrics just messed up my train of thought, so I switched to classical. I found that that relaxed me too much and I didn't want to write anymore. I find it's better to just work in silence.

What are your top five favorite songs or bands?

On Day Fourteen

Happy Pi Day... if you're in to that sort of thing.

Let's get down to brass tacks.

My parents. They've been married for forty-two years, yes it's true. My dad is a quiet man, doesn't get too huffy or excited about much. I tend to take after him. My mom is the complete opposite. An extensive worrier, and she will talk to a brick wall. I guess it's true, opposites really do attract. Somehow, they've managed to stay married all this time, and good for them. It's quite a feat these days. They've made me into the person I am today, and I like to think that even though I'm quite the scumbag, the decency in me comes from them.

My brother and I. This is a completely forced and fake smile on my part. If you haven't gathered from all the fancy clothes, this is indeed a wedding, mine in fact, and oh boy was that day a mess. I mean the whole day. This particular photo of my brother and I came as a complete surprise. We were gabbing one moment, and the next, there was a camera in our face. Cheese! And this is what you get. Pardon my neck cords sticking out all iguana-like. He and I have had a love-hate relationship over the years. Mainly because he is substantially older than me, by nine years, and when I was a kid, he was a teenager and of course, he didn't want his lame-o little sister hanging around. He also took part in shaping me because him being my older brother, I liked everything he liked. I was rocking out to Metallica, Megadeath, and Black Sabbath when I was six, okay. Over the years, as I obviously got older, I suddenly became more tolerable. Needless to say, we actually like each other now.

Fortunately, I'm still within close proximity to my family, so I can show up whenever I want and demand a meal... I mean, visit them. I like to think it will always be that way, but you never know, someone might get crazy and move away.

Are you and your family close?

On Day Thirteen

I went through half the day thinking that today was Wednesday... until I looked at a calendar and realized... shit, it's only Tuesday! I do this more often than not, and it never fails to be a huge downer. I was so thrilled because I thought I only had two more days of getting up early for work, what a let down.

Now that that's out of my system, since it's about mid-March now, the topic of summer vacation has come up. My husband and I usually try to take at least one, week long vacation over the summer. This year we were considering driving down the Myrtle Beach, it seems we are both natural beach dwellers. A few years back when we went down to the Outer Banks we talked about driving down to Myrtle Beach, of course, this was May and it was unseasonably cold while we were down there, and we thought, it's too damn touristy. I think that's what is dissuading us this time as well.

Last night he mentioned that he looked into going to Maine. Immediately I thought, we can stalk Stephen King!!! Don't worry Mr. King, if we do end up in Maine, I won't stalk you, I'll simply be peering around the area wide-eyed looking for you. We've been meaning to check out Boston for the historical value, but we've been putting it off for whatever reason. This idea gave us an opportunity to check out Boston and drive up to Maine while we're at it. From the Mitten (through Canada) it's about a sixteen hour drive to Maine. Of course we would stop along the way to check random things out, it's what we do. I also have an affinity for lighthouses, just like my mother, so this would give me an opportunity to check out East Coast lighthouses.

All this talk is making me itchy to get the hell out of dodge. I always get a little jumpy when we're getting ready to leave on any vacation, but once we're gone, it's complete bliss. Our destination is not yet decided, I don't think we'll be doing too much ocean swimming if we head to the northeast, but we'll definitely be week-long beach bums if we head southeast.

What would you do?

On Day Twelve

I find it sad that I always dread Monday. Especially since I was born on a Monday, oh well. If you're like most of the world, you're back at work today after a hopefully enjoyable weekend. I was so blissed out yesterday, I completely forgot that my boss will be out of the office today and tomorrow. Believe it or not, this is not good news. This adds extra stress for me. I'll just have to travel to my happy place.



I suppose I started blogging roughly eleven years ago. Of course, back then it wasn't called blogging. I started out with Live Journal which was basically just a way for my friends and I to bitch back and forth to each other. My journal is filled with a bunch of adolescent crap about a boy I was head over heels for and paid me no mind. When I go back to that time and read some of those entries, I think gosh I was a douche bag.

I started this blog because I've been reading books on writing and marketing yourself as a writer and they made mention of having a blog. It's a way to connect with your readers, they say. It's a way to get yourself known, they say. If you've got blog followers, you might be able to turn them into book readers, and so on. So I thought I would make my blog about my process, what I was thinking as I was working on a manuscript, frustrations, triumphs, that sort of thing. I also thought I might throw in a little personal stuff as well, such as, I love photography, so maybe I'd post a picture I took and write a little paragraph about it. As if strangers would care right?

I also deal with anxiety disorder which, let's be honest, sucks. I call my different bouts rounds. Currently I've got low level anxiety, which means, I'm functioning well without medication, but I still have a few bumps in the road from time to time. Luckily, I haven't had much to write about on that front. The reason I decided to write about that though is because, I thought maybe if someone else has the same issues, they could see they weren't alone, and maybe they'd learn about new ways to cope.

So.. do you blog for business? Or for pleasure?

On Day Eleven

Sunday again folks. It always seems like the weekend goes by so incredibly quickly. In case you were wondering, I had a marvelous weekend full of family time and hiking in the park. Might as well take advantage of this wildly unseasonable weather we're having right?

Has there ever been anyone you wanted to meet, living or dead? I'm sure you've been asked that question at least once in your life, and maybe you wanted to slap the bastard that asked you. I would like to meet two different people, and surprise, surprise, they are both writers.

Chuck Palahniuk, you may know him because he wrote a little book called Fight Club which naturally got turned into a movie. And then he wrote eleven other novels after that, as well as some non-fiction. Once I read Fight Club, I sort of fell in love. I love his writing style and it's how I'd like my work to read. I just don't think I can pull it off. 

And then you've got the master of horror, Stephen King. I believe I mentioned that I started reading him at a young age and over the years I've built up a semi-respectable collection. His writing style has always entranced me and pulled me in to a completely different world. Of course, it helps that I'm a little deranged and I enjoy the macabre, so his work suits me well. In spirit of his writing, I'm working in a horror/supernatural twist to my current manuscript. I won't be able to pull it off like him, but I am sure enjoying writing it.

Ideally, I'd love to get the both of them together for lunch and just sit there in awe. I'd love to hear about their process, and whether or not they feel the writer self-loathing I was talking about the other day. (I'm sure they do. They're only human after all.)

On Day Ten

Okay, I need to admit something to you guys. I'm really surprised that I've made it ten whole days without skipping a post. I usually do something for a little while and then lose interest, it's something of a fault of mine. To be quiet honest though, I nearly forgot to post today. I was sitting around on my sofa about half an hour ago wondering what to do with my Saturday night when all of a sudden I was like, oh shit, I have to blog! So here I am.


I really love music. I love to listen to it, I love to play it (even though these days I suck at it), I just really enjoy it in general. I think everyone has certain kinds of music they listen to when they're in certain moods. Like if you're all hopped up and ready to work out or something, maybe you listen to metal, or gangsta rap, or maybe a really bubbly pop song. Maybe when you're sort of down, you'll listen to some sappy love song or some emo crap. Maybe when you're mellow you listen to some classic Zeppelin or Stones.

One of my favorite things to listen to when I'm in a decent, toward happy mood is Weezer, either Surf Wax America or El Scorcho. There's just something about it, listening to the lyrics and the beat gets me all pumped up. I'm not much of a snob about the kind of music I'll listen to, but I get tell you, there is some music I absolutely loathe. The first bit is country music (I apologize in advance to those of you that enjoy it. It's a personal choice, and I won't judge you.) I just can't stand it. Also, I won't listen to any much by someone who is still a teenager. That bubble gum pop music doesn't appeal to me. Everything else, I will tolerate. If you take a look at my iPod, you'll see I have a wide array of different types of music. I can go from Billie Holiday to Notorious B.I.G. I can go from Jewel to The Doors. It's really a toss up to what you'll find there.

What is one of your favorite songs and why?