trying to form a habit...

is really harder than it looks...

So, I've been working at forming two habits, & I've been less than successful with both.  The first habit I'm trying to form is that of typing daily in my blog & well, we've seen how effective that has been.  I've actually had one or two thoughts about my Nanowrimo novel - maybe something SCA themed - maybe something that I can use stuff from my trip this summer.  I don't know.  Still looking at plot possibilities.  The second habit I'm trying to form is that of writing down everything I eat every day.  I _really_ want to get down to 160 or below by the time I turn 40, but I've totally plateaued.  I don't eat my Medifast foods more than once a day & I stress eat.  This needs to stop.  I'm at about 212 right now, & that's 34 pounds down from April, but I need to start dropping again.  I'm not certain why exactly I'm sabotaging myself, whether its related to all of the stress of extra roommates or work or what.

You know what I really want to do?  I really want to just bury myself in a story and not come out.  You know what I mean?  I love those stories where the people matter & you just want to sit and experience their lives with them (because It's so much more interesting than your own life) & spend time with them.  That's what I want, a story escape.  I can hear my mother now, "Mary, you're creative.  You can write a story of your own.  Just sit down & do it." Says the woman with the iron will.

Maybe tonight, I'll try to dream & remember my dream & that can become the basis of or an episode in my Nanowrimo.  We'll see.

I'm just conscious of this underlying urge, a sub-cutaneous voice that growls "Do something creative".

Sigh.  Olivia is whining about having to do dishes.  I guess I should go help her.  I really don't want to though.

On things romantic

So, for some reason, the closer we get to Halloween, the more my thoughts turn to...romance.  Maybe it's because this holiday is celebrated by being anyone other than yourself (& especially in America, by being that in as sexy a fashion as can be arranged).  I dunno, but I am often of a more romantically minded frame than usual this time of year.

Yesterday, one of my roomies & I went to Little India for just some morning window shopping.  See, when I think of romance, I picture India, especially Indian clothing.  Somehow, Indian clothing strikes me as especially beautiful...maybe because it is utterly unsuited to my build or coloring, who knows, but when I am shopping among the saris & other garments, it is easy to imagine the old fairy-tale princess stories.  Maybe because the SCA has utterly de-mystified Medieval Europe for me, I don't see princesses and happy-ever-after there...it's too prosaic.

so, since that trip, my mind has been caught up with thoughts of romance & other silliness.  This may account for why I am periodically checking my chat window to see if someone has messaged me.  Note that there is no real reason for this person to message me, nor should I be looking for them to do so, given my peculiar situation.  Remind me sometime and I'll tell you what I can about the peculiarities and my own ambivalence (not pretty when combined with cowardice, lemme tell ya).  Suffice it to say that I am feeling more than a little foolish (but not twitterpated).

throwing caution to the winds?

No ruddy likely.  This is me, after all.  But for just a moment, I think I would like to wonder.  See, I'm in a (very complicated & mostly hidden, but honest) relationship.  It's worked for 6 years and a bit over.  Part of me wants it to still work because it is safe and comfortable.  It also unfortunately means that I spend much of my time alone, no partner, no life mate (...which, after the collapse of my marriage, I'm not certain that I want, really...).  Some days it feels like my whole life is on hold in between the times I get to talk to or be with this other person.  I'm not certain if this is healthy, living much of my life on pause.  I know that it is not very fun, especially the in-between times, the paused hours.  That being said, the relationship is good when we can spend time together.  The person loves me and I love them back (not a mad passion on my side, but certainly deep affection).  My various offspring care for the person & their feelings are returned.  Being with this person has helped me to stay sane and to grow into a better person myself over the years.  They inspire me to work harder and be better.  This is good.  So, what's the malfunction?  An increasing part of me wonders what it would be like to be free, to experiment, to risk meeting new people (& being rejected by them, says my cynical self), to maybe find a love that I don't have to keep silent about or share (or maybe spend my days alone, the crazy cat lady).

Then there's this other person...who deserves their own entry.  Maybe in the morning after I've slept.  I still need to noodle.

Thanks for listening.

Noodling

Good morning!

So, I've been having some really good conversations about creative topics (& passions, & getting out of our own way) with some folks, and I just wanted to noodle some creative projects.  Some of them are stuff that I need to finish because I'm committed and I have a deadline (sigh), and some are things that just sound fun:

I have to get DA stuff pulled together and done with.  That's the 22nd.  That's a thing I volunteered for.
I have to finish the Cassandra doll's clothes by Coronation.  that's the 4th.  That's a thing I volunteered for.

I want to build a scale model of an art nouveau inspired tiny house.

I want to make a steampunk (art nouveau) outfit.

I have leather.  I want to play with mask-making and leather carving.  Maybe even today. :)

I want to research/interview and write a history of the Crescent Kingdom.  This would mean interviewing as many dinosaurs as I can find (& coming up with interview questions in advance).  Also compiling existing written records including from the wiki and the KWH, various TI & CA issues, etc.  Maybe I'll do a smaller version of this for my Nanowrimo.

Time to act, to create instead of just sitting and waiting for creativity to find the time to find me.

Thanks for listening.

Lost in the telling

I truly love to read, but I realized recently that it is almost less about the story that the author has to tell and more about the world that the author creates within the novel. I find myself lingering over favorite stories, peeking down corridors & peering through windows for hints of what else might be going on.

The first rule...

...when you are in a hole is to stop digging.

See, here's the thing: I've been feeling just poopy for the past several days to a week.  I know, "poopy" is not exactly the most articulate term I could use, but it fits for the moment.  That being said, I am not a fan of this poopiness and wish for it to end, and the sooner the better.  So, how to end the poopiness?  That's where the title comes in.  If I'm tired of how I feel & the state of my life, I have to change my behaviors if I expect to have any shot at all of fixing things.  I have to stop digging.

I need to write more than I do, but until I can get over my pathological fear that someone else will read what I write (yah, I didn't say that I was logical), I can't write honestly.  Here's my plan:  I'll just write to you.  You and I already agreed in my earlier post that you don't know me, & even if you do, well, we're not going to mention this blog, right?  This makes me feel much better, it really does.  See, if I don't know you, then I won't be embarrassed by what I say to you...It makes sense in my brain, I promise.  Anyway, I'm going to write to you, and tell you about stuff and pretend that you care even when I whine (even though I know no-one really does). I'm sort-of hoping that pretending to talk to a real person will help me move past where I am and into a more real space in my head.

Sigh.  I'm also going to have to pretend that you're the sort of person who understands the gibberish that I just wrote. :)

One of the areas where I struggle is being specific.  I have been told that I take being guarded to inspiring new levels, and part of that is that I have mastered side-stepping and ambiguous language.  I promise, I will really work on being clear and specific when we talk, ok?  That seems like a good action plan, right?  I am glad that it's easy to pretend that you agree with me. ;)  Just a note, if I do mention other people, which I might, I am not going to write their actual names (or any variation on them).  No-one else should suffer for my blathering.  You don't know them anyway, so don't worry about it, ok?

You know, it's funny.  I feel a tiny bit of weight lifting, like this silly pretend game may actually help.  I'm kind-of looking forward to talking to you.  Thanks. :)

reflections

Figured at least one thing out - I'm feeling very invisible lately, like no one sees me.  On the other hand, I do this to myself.  I don't put myself forward at all, really.  I just seem to always stand in the background, in the shadows.  Got back from a weekend at GWW with the girls.  Lots of pics getting posted on FB.  I'm not in any of them.  It's as if I wasn't even there.  Sigh. Need to smudge the house & get rid of the ick. I'm sick of this.

Just thoughts (whining mostly)

I have been unaccountably stressed lately, shoulders tight, neck stiff, brain paralyzed. I'm not sure why, so fixing the issue become problematic. Seriously considering lighting a couple of candles & smudging the house just to get rid of any bad vibes that may be lurking about (which could be caused by the long-term house guest who will - please, Lord - be gone by the end of the calendar year). I hate to think that a single person could cause all of this discomfort when I've lived through a divorce & a job change, & a teenaged son, none of whom caused this much discomfort (as I recall).

Perhaps the stress is due to a general feeling of malaise, a lack of accomplishment. My fortieth birthday is creeping up in just a few months, and my life is nothing like I envisioned it (when I bothered envisioning it, that is). It's not bad. It's just not what I expected (can't say planned, because planning involves some form of premeditation & action. My life seems to have happened randomly based on choices that I made...shocking, no?)

So, how do I fix it? the malaise, I mean? I am aware of the general truths - make a plan, work the plan, write down what I am grateful for, etc. If I feel trapped in my own life, well, I'm the one who put me here, so it falls to me to work on fixing it, yes? Cuz I gotta tell ya, I'm really tired of the exhaustion & aches that signal depression. I am not really willing to take medication if the issue is clinical, so that's temporarily off the table. I don't feel hopeless or despondent, just...meh. Afflicted by an odd malaise, a soggy, stifling mist that keeps me from participating in my own life.

As long as I'm posting stuff that (Please, Lord) is never read by anyone that I know {& if you do know me, please don't tell me. No. Really. This is hard enough as it is.}, you know what scares me, really deep down? That I am hardening inside. That this limited paralysis of feeling is the most of which I am truly capable. That my emotions are ossifying within their protective shell, and that someday I may cease to feel deeply at all. I am safe, but made of stone. I don't know how to release my feelings, or oddly even if I want to...except that intellectually I know that it is better to feel deeply than not. Sigh. How's that for some pointless whining?

That's where I get frustrated with myself. I have a good life. No trauma. Minimal drama. Folks that love me. Fantastic kids. Money stuff mostly on an even keel. Employed in a fairly satisfying (or at least not frustrating or demoralizing) job. See? Good life. I know people who really have things that they're struggling with, who have areas of their lives that are truly difficult, in some cases nearly unendurable. Where do I get off feeling whiny & unhappy with my own blessings?...but I do .

I am lonely in the middle of a house full of eight people. I want someone to lean on once in a while. Someone to cuddle with and depend on...although honestly, there's no real guarantee that I'd be willing/able to lean on another person (one of my pathologies, I think).

Yah. I'm beginning to bore myself with this crap. Next time I have to think of something better to write. Maybe I'll write to someone else, because when I write to myself, I just snivel. Time to kick myself in the butt & work on living rather than simply existing.

Like I said, if you read this & know me, please don't tell me. Just...smile with me, crack a joke, gimme a hug, & by being yourself encourage me to live more fully and honestly and vividly. Ok? Deal.