Oct 05

The Towel

Well, I was going to do a stylistic experiment last night and get really drunk then write a blog and trying to figure it out today. Turns out that I am just not into getting that drunk any more. I tried. I even took shots. I just didn’t get drunk. I just ended keeping Tina up too late talking about stuff.

Now I know.

I wasn’t going to blog today and take my shame for missing a day and not try to make up for it, then I took a shower. Okay, it wasn’t the shower that made me want to blog; it was the towel after the shower that made me want to write a blog.

We know I am the most awkward person on earth because I over think EVERYTHING. I have this crazy fear of being rude or inconsiderate. I always try to do the right thing in any situation. It is like a compulsion. I think everyone has it but I am pretty sure I bring it to a completely different level. Case in point, my towel after the shower and trying to figure out what to do with it.

I was raised that towels are not dirty after one use, as long as only one person uses it. I know dead skin cells and all of that crap. I know some people find it totally disgusting. I think if you freak out at the idea of someone using the same towel twice, you really need to twiddle your own joystick more.  Anyway, I also know the other argument and find it equally valid.  I am just a towel reuser. Anyway, I am almost incapable of throwing a towel on the floor after using it once. I picked a blue towel. I know that blue towel is the one I used. It is covered in my germs and my skin cells. I can dig it. I think Tina is a towel washer. Use it once and wash it. It is also possible that she doesn’t put that much thought into things and I am just insane. Totally possible.  The struggle comes after my shower and I have this blue towel that in my head is now “my towel” and I can use it after my next shower but I am pretty sure she would just prefer to wash it. I stand there for several seconds with “my towel” in my hand and tell myself I should just throw it on the floor with the rest of the laundry so she can scoop it up when she turbo launders. I have it in my hand and I know I should, but I just can’t, so I throw it over the shower rod, unintentionally making it harder on her since it totally does not go there and she will have to try and reach it.  Mind you, all of this is going through my head OVER A FREAKING TOWEL.

I might write some day about the last of the juice.

I am so glad my friends love me.

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Oct 01

I Actually Went Outside

Today I spent the day at the Rock Island Arts Festival and had a blast.

I heard four different versions of “Knocking on Heaven’s Door,” one with a xylophone.

I defended pole dancing as a legitimate art after seeing the girl I used to baby sit when she was just a sweet little girl climbing up a pole. It was pretty cool actually. It was really more like a performance art and less like dirty crack whores. Only one of the dancers had fake boobs. (Lets not discuss the tramp stamp tattoos.)

I think there was some art there. I saw a few painted cow skulls. Mostly I was hanging out with Cynthia and her kid. We did a lot of walking between the huge sand piles and the bouncy castles.

Jewelry. I saw jewelry. I like shiny things.

I got to meet many of my friends offspring. I am a terrible friend and I haven’t met any of my friends’ spawn. Autumn is still cute as hell and you can’t even tell she had a kid two months ago. It is ridiculous.

I spent four hours talking non-stop to Cynthia and her son. When we were at school, Cynthia was gorgeous girl. (I have always had hot female friends. It was good for my guy friends but not good for my chances to pick up guys. But, yeah, I know all the hot chicks.) Now she is an amazingly beautiful woman.  She looks almost exactly the same (there is a picture of her in an attic… NERD reference) but she has a new grace about her that makes her stunning. She was the same sweet, smart, funny Cynthia I loved so much in college but only better.

I did NOT get drunk at the wine tasting then try to get a pony ride. I did encourage LaNell to though.

I awkwardly talked about writing and my book a lot but my friends are great people and handled it well.

I have the strangest sunburn. I burned around my necklace and I have to white lines V-ing down my chest pointing straight to my boobs. I am going to think of it as added advertisement. I also have a stripe across my eye from my chunky sunglasses. I can pretend to be Geordi LaForge. I would take a picture of it but my dumb camera is refusing.

On a completely unrelated note: there is a pile of laundry that I took out of the dryer before I left this morning. I put it on my bed thinking that I would put them away after I got home today. Okay, I knew it was a slim chance I would hang them up, but I had the best intentions. When I got home I moved them from my bed to my computer chair so I could lay down and then moved them back to my bed after I woke up. I have accepted that they will just moved back and forth between the two spots until they dwindle away from me wearing them. I might put away the panties since I don’t have to fold or hang those up.

And I wonder why I am single.

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Sep 29

Sweet Action

So that was a fascinating bit of crazies I went through. Tuesday I didn’t write at all because I was completely batshit insane. I woke up in a panic attack and it kind of stuck around all fucking day. The very idea of trying to have an actual conversation stressed me out into tears.  I went to the super wal-mart and then cooked and baked some bread and that made me feel better. I am calling it baking therapy. Then I had a conversation and tried to pretend to not be crazy and it stressed me out so bad that I had to have tequila therapy.  Like I said, I was pretty bat shit insane. (I bet that is how those tarsier monkeys feel when they commit suicide from the stress of loud noises and being touched too much.)

I’m much better now.  I can’t be completely sure, but I think I have adjusted  to the season change now and can continue on being my super cool self. I will keep an eye on things for the next few days.

I have discovered I really like to cook. It is so strange. I used to HATE to cook. Now I have a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook and I bake and shit. I find a strange pride in preparing a good meal. I’m actually not bad at it either. Well, okay, my bread is still pretty heavy but it is tasting better at least.

I just realized this is the most pointless blog ever. I am going to stop it now.

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Sep 24

Hello Wall

Happiness is a choice. I always try to chose happy. I look at the good things in my life instead of the things that aren’t spectacular. Some people enjoy being miserable but I am not one of those people, so I trudge forth with this insane ability to be happy with my blessings and accept things that kinda suck. Some people think it is naivete or denial, when it is just how I survive. I look at what is good, I look at what is bad, and I try to see if there is anything I can do about what is bad. If I can fix or improve what is bad, I do, if not, I make a note of it and try to accept it. It is a lot of freaking work but I refuse to chose to be unhappy because my life isn’t perfect. Life is a gift. Some days, though, I get really exhausted.

I have chronic depression, I don’t hide it. I am not ashamed of it. My brain chemistry is jacked up. I am not weak because parts of my brain have calcified; that is like believing someone is weak because they don’t produce enough insulin or because they have asthma. So, I am open about my depression. I face it and take my medicine for it. I try my best to handle the best I can.

Most people’s depression shows as sadness or complete apathy. I have that, but I also have the fun added bonus of strange anger, paranoia that I am hurting those I love or they are mad at me, and bad anxiety. The people I love know all of this about me and love me and accept me anyway. I treasure them.

I really didn’t know where I was going with this, but it is actually helping me.  80% of the time the Prozac makes everything very manageable. 80% of the time I feel my emotions how I am supposed to without help of jacked up brain chemistry.  I have been very low and moody the past few days. I have had a headache since Tuesday, revising has been difficult, I have been under stress almost constantly, and I have been freaking out thinking that I might be bi-polar. (It runs in my family so it is a genuine fear for someone with established mental health issues.) I had been so happy because of my book then BOOM depression. I thought it was because I was having a hard time revising and all of that other stuff, I think I figured out what it really is while I was writing this.

I wasn’t going to write about this today. I was going to find something else to write about or just post something funny. I didn’t actually realize that things were really wrong until Kathleen mentioned it to me. I have a way of not noticing the symptoms of my depression until someone brings them up to me. I am blessed that my mom, Tina, and now Kathleen are there to carefully and lovingly point out to me I am being a loon.

Anyway, I keep digressing, I wasn’t going to write about it until I went outside to take the trash and two butterflies landed on my. I decided to write about this and be as honest as I could be. As I wrote, I realized a few things.

My difficulties and disinterest in revising are probably due to my depression.

It is the season change between summer and fall. This is a rough time for me. I have bad seasonal affective disorder. All the season switches effect me a bit but summer to fall and fall to winter are rough on me.

I am probably not bipolar. I was really happy and excited for a really good reason. I wrote my first book. That is a big freaking deal. I am depressed now because of the season changes. YaY. (Honestly, I know bi-polar is not the end of the world and I would live a happy life with it. People who know me know why I fear it so much.)

I probably put way too much stock in butterflies as messengers.

Okay, I am done over sharing now!

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Sep 22

Why, Yes, I do Know How Awesome I am

I am so freaking lucky. I am. My life is good. I have incredible friends and family, I am doing exactly what I want to be doing with my life, and I am sooo full of awesome and win that it positively leaks from my aura sending off waves of awesome to everyone around me. So, in fact, I am so awesome that I am making others around me more awesome by being around them. Yep.

First, before we go any further, you need to watch this so you can get some jokes.

Now you know, the honey badger don’t give a shit.

So back to me telling you why I am awesome.

No matter how hard I try, I don’t really fit in. I never have. I am too weird. I mean, I know it seems like it would take a lot of effort to be this strange, but I have always made an effort to  be less strange. I never works. My strangeness leaks out. It made really hard to feel completely comfortable in my own skin or at work.  I would try so hard to be politically correct and not be so mouthy. I just can’t do it.

I am a writer now. I am so like the honey badger, minus the gross snake eating. “Look at Selina, she is laughing too loud and making a joke when she should be pretending to be serious. Look at that she is never quite dressed appropriately for the situation. The Selina don’t give a shit.”

Being a writer is like a license to be exactly who I am without shame or fearing that people won’t like me. Dude, I am Selina Scott the writer. I am a good person. I do my best to be good to people. I can be as weird as I naturally. It is okay I am supposed to be strange. It is part of my job. I am am living the freaking dream.

I have been a bit drunk with the power of it actually. I can be myself. I don’t have to try to pretend to be normal. MWAHAHAHAHA <— evil scientist laugh.  The people who love and care about me, love me and care about me just like I am? The people who don’t or wish I was different won’t ever accept me, so I don’t have to try and please them? And I get to write? Living. the. Fucking. Dream.

 

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Sep 20

One Small Step

Are you guys ready for another one of my ranty/preachy posts? Yep, this is going to be one of those… in a minute. I need to flip out a little bit first though. Yesterday I got 3.8k unique visitors. I know for other sites this is no big deal but, that is freaking huge for me. I know I am a big freaking dork for being excited about it, but I am.  I am going to enjoy my one freakishly good day and carry on being a complete frelling noob.

So one of my friends shared a story from the Huffington Post about a flash mob targeting Michele Bachmann’s speech at the California Republican Convention. First video, then rant.

The Courage Campaign is an organization of progressives in California (read dirty granola eating hippies) that work together to forward liberal causes. I didn’t read much about them, but if this flash mob is any indicator, The Courage Campaign has to be pretty freaking epic.

Later in the Huffington Post article it mentions the protest move of “glittering” where gay rights protestors throw glitter on to conservative, anti-human rights, anti-common sense, anti-mind your own damn business because that shit doesn’t hurt you politicians.  I laughed so hard when I read that and my mind started to buzz.

We all know I am annoyed by the rampant lack of civility in our modern political discourse. (What I mean to say is that people are asshats and behave in a way that should shame their kindergarten teacher.) In this time when name calling, violence, wild propaganda, and inflammatory hate speech is considered an acceptable way to express viewpoints, I am touched to watch a group of people seek basic equality by using non-violent and non-asshat forms of protest. It  makes the people who scream about hating fags or resort to violence look like neanderthals.

These protests encompass all that is great about America. At the core, this is what we like to think America is all about. It is people who feel something needs to change exercising their rights and gathering in a non-violent protest. I don’t know if we have completely lost our ability to appreciate the beauty of people standing up for what they believe without violence or hate, but I honestly hope not.

The USA wants to believe that we are about freedoms, equality, and personal expression. We  want to believe this with everything we are, but we have a hard time sticking to it when we don’t agree with what the other person is saying.  We only want to give rights and freedoms to people who are like us. If someone has a different race, religion, or sexual orientation, we feel it is okay to limit those rights. Truth is, no matter how we feel about how someone chooses to live their lives, or how they choose to worship, or any other personal choice they might make, if it doesn’t hurt anyone else, then we have no right to limit their rights.

If you don’t like their choices, get a blog and bitch about it there. It is what the rest of us do.

 

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Sep 17

Many Great Things

 

 

I had an incredible time at Tina’s this week. I got to come up for air from my world of writing and I bought a cookbook. Tonight I am going to make pork with apples, yellow rice, and green beans. I am also making a second set of bread. The first batch was heavy and kind of bland but I think it could have been MUCH worse. I love kneading the bread. It has gotten me thinking thoughts on feminism. I need to write them down. Tina and I also had a lot of discussions about feminism. It is time to start folders on my computer desktop for each new project to throw my random thoughts in.

Tina encouraged me to buy a notebook with a monkey on it. I really did need a notebook to carry around a notebook since I walk around like a space cadet chewing through random ideas in my head. I was going to just get some little decorated ones until Tina saw one with a monkey on it. “Selina, you need a diary with a monkey on it”

Now I carry around a thin diary with a monkey on it in my purse. I am unashamed.

I really thought I would  want more time away from my manuscript but I actually miss it. I am reading The Elements of Style by Strunk and White and skimming a few other things before I go back to it.

I got Adele 21 today. It makes me happy.

Soon I will go back to writing decent blogs. I promise. Soon.

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Sep 15

Books of all Sorts.

I finished my rough draft of my book at 3:13am Monday.

I wrote a freaking book…. in two months

I slept all day Monday and came to Tina’s on Tuesday.  I missed her family and I needed to back in touch with reality. I WROTE A FUCKING BOOK. I forget that sometimes then when I remember, I get all awesome feeling again.

So I need to say again, I have amazing friends. Kathleen is an incredible writing partner and I owe so much to her. Tina supported me and listened to me babble about my book. Actually all of my friends rock. Thank you guys so much.

So I made a decision to buy a cookbook and start cooking more. I eat a lot of processed food and I had no idea how to cook much without using a lot of prepackaged food. I baked bread today. I managed not to screw it up. I had a blast making it and it tastes great. I might have a new hobby in baking. (I think I have Christmas present ideas.)

I miss writing. I have three more books in my head I need to write.

I am just so happy.

Yes, I drank the kool-aid.

 

Oh, a parting thought:

Samantha: What do unicorns eat?

Tina: Each other, that is why they are extinct.

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Sep 10

Basements, Stephen King, Perspective, Grammar, Punk Songs, and a Crazy Monkey

 

First I want to start this blog off right:

eeevil

MWAHAHAHAHA

So I started writing this but now I have to find out what kind of primate this is. Thank you  ADD. I also blame the shame my professor instilled in me about saying something with out evidence backed up by being on the deck. On the deck, if you made a brash statement and you didn’t have evidence, someone would eat your soul. I got my soul eaten a lot.

Anyway, this is a Philippine Tarsier and they are super rare. Apparently, they will commit suicide if you touch them too much or make too many loud sounds around them. No lie, look here. The dirty hippie part of my personality is saddened by that and wants to start a crazy campaign to preserve their habitat. I might even write a haiku or four.  The asshole part of my personality just thinks they are emo little shits.  You learn new stuff everyday. Thank you interwebz.

Really, I just meant to post the funny picture of the crazy monkey that really isn’t a monkey but something like a monkey. I ruined the funny by going all research on it. Typical.

Anyway, the thing I had INTENDED to write about to day is that I have some epic conversations with my friends.  I thought I should share a few. ( Oh by the way, since this is about actual conversations with adults there is swearing. I do my best not to swear in public, around small children, when I am trying to be professional, around people I feel it genuinely offends, or any combination thereof. When I am talking to my friends, in private, I swear. At this point, I feel like if you were offended by swearing you would have run away scream, especially after “Map of Tasmania.”)

Two Basement conversations:

I have mentioned twice that Stephen King has told Kathleen about how many words writers should aim for in a writing day. This conversation came from one of those times.

Kathleen: I love how you make it sound like I have had an actual conversation with Stephen King and not just read his book.

Me: I think it had more flair that way.

Kathleen: It sounds like I have Stephen King locked in my basement. I love it.

Me: You don’t?

Kathleen: Well, I do, but still.

 

Tina commented on my blog post about how I am going to be writing my book instead of worrying about making major posts here. She commented that she would lock the penis enlargement dood into a basement for me to keep him from distracting me.

Tina: Did you read my comment on your one post?

Me: Yep, and I replied.

Tina: I need to go check it.

Me: Basically I just told you that I know I am loved because you are willing to commit serious felonies on my behalf. It might be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever told me.

Tina: Well, I love you and I want to do anything I can to help you succeed.

Me: It is still a pretty big deal especially if it the creepy rape mattress basement from your house in Clinton. I mean the idea you would be willing to go down there for me warms the cockles of my heart. ( I really am a big enough of a freak to say shit like “cockles of my heart.”)

Tina: Well, I think I could do it without actually having to go into the basement.

Me: I still find it very touching.

 

One Conversation about Grammar:

I get insanely loopy at two a.m after having written for several hours. When I do join back into the real world for brief periods, it rarely makes sense but sometimes it leads to fun conversations.

Me: I just had one of my characters say ‘you haved my respect’

Kathleen: ‘halved’?

Me: ‘haved’ because has wasn’t past tense enough for the situation.

Kathleen: I thought you were doing a witty play on words like ‘you just halved my respect for you’

Me: no nothing that witty or cool, just messed up my tense. I don’t even think that is tense. Oh what- the fuck- ever. The damn jussive subjunctive of the dative agent bullshit or what ever it is.

Kathleen (laughing): I am glad to see  you are so passionate about it.

Me: It is grammar, of course I am passionate.

Kathleen: It is grammar motherfucker.

Me: I want some motherfucking grammar on this motherfucking plane.

(About an hour later.)

Me: I bet being a hooker would be a great way to get blog material.

Kathleen: It would be.

One conversation about being a mommy, public urination, and cucumbers:

Last Saturday was my friend Cynthia’s son’s fourth birthday party. I didn’t go because I was obsessing about writing, I have developed a strange social anxiety since I started writing that I hope goes away after I finish my first draft, and I am just a shit person in general. Tina went with her family and I caught her on Facebook chat later that night and asked her about it. I copy the conversation and saved it as a word document because I knew it was that awesome. I could just cut and paste it here but that would be the easy way and I don’t do things the easy way.

Me: How was the party?

Tina: It was great. Sam got all buzzed out and peed on the floor of  Barnes and Noble.

Me: Wow, uh,

Tina: So I cleaned it up the best I could. I changed her clothes. She spilled water all over herself as we where pulling into Bueno, because mommy did not want to cook. I made her wear her wet pants in there and she kept hugging me and telling me how much she loves me. I couldn’t even e mad at her.

Me: lolz

Tina: Then Caius started farting so we left, the smell behind. (Understand when her son farts, it is toxic ass rot. I love the child more than anything but he can stink up a place.)

Me: Are you drinking yet?

Tina: Nope. I just offered David one of my cucumbers (she makes a fantastic cucumber salad) and he shuddered and said “eew” and pulled away as fast as he could and then said “what is it?”

Me: lmao, Really, David, Really?

Tina: I’m thinking about going to get his pillow and wubby and throwing it on the couch for him.

Me: That might be a bit much.

Tina: Motherfucker, My three year old has better manners.

Me: Your three year old is being raised by you though. lol Does he know that your child pissed on the floor of a public place and you are exhausted?

Tina: He was there!

Me: Maybe he does deserve the couch. SHE PEED ON THE FUCKING FLOOR EAT THE GODDAMNED CUCUMBER.

Tina: You just got my first smile in hours. I think that would make a great punk song.

Me:  Hell yes. My son smells like week old garbage. My daughter peed on the floor in Barnes and Noble. eat, eat, eat, the goddamn cucumber.

Tina: Perspective, now I have it.

Me: Knock, Knock motherfucker.

(I stole this all with Tina’s permission. Oh, if you don’t get that ‘Perspective, now I have it’ and “Knock, Knock motherfucker’ come from the Bloggess, read this. Seriously, just do it.)

 

 

 

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Sep 08

OOOOW

So yesterday I went smooth out of my mind and I wrote 5k words to bring my grand total up to 50k. My brain hurts.  Apparently, Stephen King told my friend and writing partner Kathleen that 2k words was a healthy goal to shoot for. I more than doubled that. I think I also gave myself tennis elbow, so today I am taking the day off.  Project Runway is tonight and I came in two days ahead of my goal of 50k by Friday.

That all means you guys get another crap blog. You guys are so effing lucky. I have a really great blog in mind but I have to get my brain to be in less pain before I write it. Today I am going to share my writing ritual. The most important part of the writing day is the pre-working whine and internet surf. I also always watch these videos to get me going. Enjoy!

Tina told me that this is my new theme song and I dig it, so it is the first one I listen to

This one is a super fun naughty song by Amanda Palmer, half of the Dresden Dolls and Neil Gaimon’s wife. I loove this video but it is not for the uptight. It isn’t bad except for a few f-bombs but it will make uptight folkd squish their faces in disapproval.

The last video I watch is one of a few videos of french bulldogs. I am obsessed with their bat ears, sweet temperaments, and funny barks. This is generally the first one I watch.

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