So, I had planned to come here and write about writing like a fiend and finding my groove again and inform y’all that the Viking hasn’t gotten me the pictures from the zoo yet because he is working full time and working on a Master’s and trying to get sleep. It started out innocently enough.  I decided to check out my site stats and clicked a link to a referrer. I spent the next 20 minutes like this:

What the fuck am I looking at?!?

It was a tumbler devoted purely to nerd porn pictures and gifs. I thought after that summer looking at porn for a living, I couldn’t be shocked by nekkid people anymore until I discovered cosplay porn.

Keep the internet weird folks. I’m going to try and process some of the things I’ve seen. I CAN’T UNSEE THAT!!

*Le Sigh* rule 34

I’ve had a migraine all day. Right now, I just have a medium-sized left over headache, but my brain still feels like apple sauce.  What I mean to say is: don’t expect coherency. Do y’all ever expect the coherency?

Anyway, so very early Saturday morning I finished my rough draft. I decided to take many days off to play video games, watch Dr. Who and crotchet, and do other less productive things while I let the writing brain take a break. Last night I got so bored playing video games. Tonight, I will try to get some television time for the Doctor and blanket making, but I still think I will be restless.  I want to write. I think I pushed through that little broken spot, and now I want to work again. So, starting tomorrow night, I’m going back through the first part of the story I start over a year ago and working on it some more. It makes happy to have that drive again.

Yet another example of what my boyfriend puts up with.

The Viking will log on to an IM with me some nights while he is doing homework, and we talk when he takes brain breaks, and I say the weirdest shit to him while he is busy. Not long after this I did a long bit of emoticon boobs of different sizes and shapes. I don’t know if this is the sort of thing he loves me for or in spite of.

Okay, so, sometimes something  happens that makes me realize I’m a bigger dork than even I realize. There is this banging  (I’ve decided to start using slang, because I am so bad at it that it amuses me) writing/ grammar software called Grammarly. I’ve been wanting it forever now, and today I found out they have an add-in for Mozzila Fire Fox that does many of the function but only all over the interwebz. I flipped ALL THE WAY OUT. Seriously, I posted about it on Facebook on both my personal page and the blog’s page. I linked it. I was that excited. I’m still excited. It makes me sad about me, because it is further proof I am a bigger dork than I ever imagined. It is a grammar and spell checker. I need a comma checker now.

I’m reading this Andre Norton book right now, and the elves are a race of fussy, foppish, gigantic douchebags. Even if everything else about the book sucked, I would keep reading it because I hate elves. They are fussy, pretty, pretentious, douchebags. And, I have the strangest prejudices ever.

I’m going to go do other things with my apple sauce brain.

So, here is the the thing, I have no problem telling people about great charities or places to help. I believe with every part of my soul people want to be a part of something good, and that two dollars can change the world. I believe many people can get an intense feeling of good and joy from doing good. Some people say giving because it makes you feel good means it is less altruistic, but I believe it is a manifestation of feeling like we did something good, and that happiness spreads and make more good. I know, totally dirty hippie of me.

That being said: I would rather rip out my own fingernails than ask for money for what I felt like selfish reasons. It stretches and frays every bit of pride I have to take all of my help from my parents. I have to remind myself how much I do for them in order not to hate myself. It bothers me that my friends know they are going to have to pay to do something with me more exotic than a cheap dinner. And, let’s just leave it at that the Viking is a saint, and I can’t wait for the day I can take him out to dinner. It kills me and my pride.

But, Amanda Palmer told me people want to pay for things they believe in.

So, here it goes. May 16th the 54 dollars for six months of my web hosting comes due. If I want to keep this site going, I have to find a way to pay for it. On the sidebar there is a Paypal donate button.

I don’t have anything to offer, except the thing I always offer on this site, me. I believe in what I do. I believe that being someone who stands up and says “look at how imperfect I am, just like you” can make other people feel less alone and less strange. I believe in making connections. I believe in the power of being vulnerable and showing people who you really are without worrying about image or product. Most people have reasons they can’t be open about their gore and bits and what they believe. I can be, so I should be.

I have spent so much of my life feeling like the only one who didn’t get the playbook. I felt alien walking around all these folks who got it. I felt alone. Then I noticed when I started being honest and opening up, everyone else felt the same way, too. We all feel alone, not good enough, or like we to be a certain way in order to deserve love and acceptance. We feel this way because we spend so much time bumping around the world with our guards up, never showing people our fluffy bits. We feel alone because we isolate ourselves out of fear.

My life changed when I took down the armor. I believe that people benefit from seeing others without their armor, because it is how we create true connection, and that is what we all really want, true connection. So, I’m taking down one of my last bits of armor. I’m asking you guys for help in keeping this strange experiment going.

There is a Paypal donate button on the sidebar. If you have some extra dollars, throw it in the hat. I have a little over two weeks to raise the $54. If I can’t, the world won’t end. I’ll find some way to keep this site going. No matter what, I will keep writing and being a red hot mess. I will keep over sharing and pissing people off. I will keep trying to be myself.

To sweeten the deal, if I raise the $54 I promise to make an ass out of my self on video. Tina promised to help. I’ll take input in blog comments and on my FB page as to how I am to make myself look like an idiot. It will be your time to exact your revenge for all my damn PMS posts.

I will leave you with the quote from Doctor Who that made me realize that it was far more than a fun little show:

I cried. This is when I really understood the Doctor

So, yeah, caffeine

Lots and lots of caffeine

It isn’t all my fault. The world isn’t always friendly to day sleepers.

More importantly, the thing with my writing I’ve been trying to force finally happened. I’ve obviously been struggling with my writing for a few months now. Some of it was life, and I can’t help that. The creative stuff, though, kills me when it isn’t there. I’ve been pushing on this current project. I missed my characters. I missed my story. I wanted to write it, but every night I would sit down and try to reach for the story. It was like spinning gears. Something was just slightly off and, while everything spun, nothing worked together and moved. I kept forcing it, though, and Sunday night I figured out a tiny plot point that slid everything else into place.  My story makes sense. I know where I am going next. I’m so happy.

I’ve never hidden the fact I’m not happy when I’m not writing. I get frustrated because I feel like I should just be able to do it. My self worth is tied into what I do. I don’t like feeling like I’m not doing anything. I’ve been pushing and pushing and pushing trying to make it work, and finally, almost as an accident, I finally got it.

Between the sleep deprivation, the caffeine, and the hyper, I’m pretty sure I’m going to learn spontaneous human teleportation tonight.

An otter with an ice cream sandwich. How is this anything other than awesome?

I also decided to start working out again. I haven’t been happy with how my body feels for a long time. For me, it isn’t so much about weight, but more about how I feel. I’ve always been overweight, but for most of my life, I’ve felt strong. Several months ago I noticed that I am feeling weaker and weaker. I’m starting to feel my body is a trap. I can’t have that. It scared and depressed the shit out of me. I’ve found excuse after excuse to avoid making changes. I’ve dealt with little failure after little  failure, but yesterday I did my Pilates DVD. I’ve decided to go slow and make life changes bit by bit. I might write about it a lot. I’m sorry. I know it will get boring, but I have to feel accountable to someone. So, I’m being accountable to my blog friends. This week and next I’m going to do Pilates Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. After these two weeks, I will see how my body feels, and I will add either walking at the park with my dog or riding the recombinant bike. I miss the joy of movement I feel when I work out. I might fail, but I hope I keep trying.

I’ve noticed that about my life. I have cycles of progress and stagnation. I fail a lot. I live a life full of good intentions and belief, but a lot of time I fail. I keep trying, though. I don’t know what else to do. Does everyone else feel like they are making up this shit as they go along, too?

Screw Y’all I’m DONE

So, I’m drinking apple ale and eating Hershey’s Cookies and Cream Easter egg thingies.  Aside from allergies, life is good. It, unfortunately leaves me with nothing to write about. I’m kinda stoked about that. If I’ve missed blog days in the past three months it as either because something was exploding or I was so depressed I didn’t want to write. Okay, Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration. There were several days in there when I was busy for good things.

All of that is beside the point. I’m happy. I’ve had a string of happy days. Yes, the past two days I have been to the Super Wal-mart both days, and it was a MAD HOUSE. I haven’t done much writing. I made the mistake of starting one of my favorite trilogies of all times (The Tawny Man by Robin Hobb), and I’m having issues pulling away from that. I’ve decided to stop trying, finish the last book and a half, and then pick a less interesting book to read next time.

If I were really, super honest with myself, I would admit a lot of my happy and distraction is because of the Viking. A year ago tomorrow, I was having an incredible day with my friend Renee, first at the the medieval fair then at our friend Angela’s baby shower. Somewhere in that day of awesome, I told Renee I was giving up on men, shutting down my Plenty of Fish profile because only creeps had messaged me, and focus full force on my writing. That night the most incredible and strangest man in the world favorited me  on the site and I messaged him. My life hasn’t been the same since. I know, I know, sappy as hell.

Next Saturday, I’m spending the day with Renee and my goddaughter at the medieval fair again. My relationship with Renee is another strange and wonderful thing. I love her dearly, and I have for many years. We see each other four times a year, at most. We talk on the phone maybe once or twice a year. Most of our communication is done on Facebook. But, even with our sporadic contact, our friendship stays strong. Our relationship is like a rock we can always return to and find an ease and comfort of someone who knows you and cares deeply for you without recriminations.  I’m just really looking forward to seeing her again. Maybe I won’t get a sunburn this time.

I think right now I’m going to take a deep breath and take inventory of all of the good in my life. I’ve been so focused on what I’ve had to do or what I was doing wrong or what was going wrong, I had a hard time being genuinely grateful. Sometimes, it is impossible to be grateful to your core.  Sometimes it is impossible to even pretend to be grateful at all. I know this, but I also know I’m happier when I can find it in me.

I know, well when I’m calm I know, I have a life filled with strange and wonderful blessing and strange and wonderful people. Things will get stressful, and I will forget. I hope I will always find a way to remember though.

Oh, my, what a sexy sexy banana

Well, so, my life has been in some level of upheaval since the middle of December, and shit went totally crazy in February (an odd freaking word), but I’ve decided things are starting to return to normal. I’m not entirely sure this is based on fact, but I’m rolling with it anyway.

I’ve decided my role in this part of my family’s life is to be the relentlessly optimistic one. I have to believe things will return to normal and everything will be okay. The alternatives range from scary as shit to straight up terrifying. I don’t even want to look those in the face, especially since there isn’t anything I can do to prevent them. I feel the beginnings of a panic attack at just skimming the surface of those ideas. So, I’ve decided not to borrow trouble and be positive. I wave at the tight knot of fear in my heart and push forward.

I don’t know if this is the best plan. I don’t know if it is the healthiest way to handle it. It’s what I’m doing until I further notice. (I think I just realized I still have a lot more unresolved emotions about what happened to my father than I thought.)

Okay, anyway, aside from that random last bit of crazy, things feel much happier. I am madly in love. I’m so madly in love it is kind of ridiculous. I feel a little like I’ve taken leave of my senses. It’s a bit like having normal emotions and turning them up to 11. (Tina will get the reference.) It’s wonderful and slightly terrifying, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Never before could I imagine how it feels to have someone so truly incredible think I’m incredible too. He doesn’t like me in spite of all of those flaws I list in my head (crazy, fat, insecure, awkward); he just accepts these things as part of me and cares about the whole bizarre package. Its like waking up one day and seeing color. We are almost a year together, and I still haven’t lost my wonder at it all. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will always visit me through out the rest of my life.

I hope that I’m writing again regularly. Every time recently I feel like I’m going to get back to it, something happens. Last week it was gross bronchitis. I lost my voice for several days. My parents were in heaven. I sat down to write last night and found everything else to do but write. I ran through all of the little inner demons and all of the internet. I finally forced myself to start. Those first 50-100 words are the hardest, but after that things get easier. Sometimes moving those fingers for those first words take a lot of effort.

I don’t know what happens next in life. I’m hoping for normalcy.  I feel like I’m finding my footing again. I don’t know how long it will last. I need to keep trying though. Just keep swimming, right?