Today is Thanksgiving, and today I am thankful for so much. I'm thankful for an extra year with my baby--and I'm thankful to end that year. I'm thankful for all the help and support I've gotten from family and friends and even complete strangers this year; without that support, I wouldn't have been able to make this year work. I've had a wonderful time with Fiona and my family. And I've had enough to eat, and a roof over my head, and those are things I'll never take lightly again. When you don't have them ... it's bad.
So thank you, world. Thank you, good people. Thank you, mom. Thank you, Shayna. Thank you, E-liz and Juju and Kurt and Katie and Erin and Patty and Jennifer. Thank you, sisters. Thank you, Jak. Thank you, State of Oregon and even the whacky federal government. Thank you, planet. Thank you, Goddess. Thank you, God.
Or to put it succinctly:
Rub a dub dub,
Thanks for the Grub.
There was a ton of grocery-shopping on Thursday and a bit of writing yesterday, but by & large, things are lame. Oh, I have been cooking up new book ideas like crazy--had a wonderful notion for a SF novel and then really got a clear vision of the old sorcery/American Revolution story that's been lurking in my brain. I wouldn't be able to pick a project to write on even if I was free too--there's just too much going on upstairs.
today, i drank the best cup of coffee i have ever consumed. it was ... extraordinary. good body, nice hint of acidity; berry, chocolate and cinnamon overtones. there were none of the distracting off-notes you get in a cup of coffee that send you reaching for the sugar dish. that said, when i added a touch of cream & sugar, the results were awe-inspiring.
Writing has been a little better yesterday and today. But I have to admit I've been sidetracking my own self with coffee.
Yes, I said coffee.
I started thinking about the damn stuff--I read a dumb mystery set in a coffeehouse--and now I've been reading up on it, and it's my new current obsession. I tell you, it's hard to focus on little things like writing when your brain is saturated with roasting, plantations, extraction ... sigh.
See, for me, writing is kind of like burping. It's not something that I'm crazy about or obsessed with, but I can't get by without doing it. I know you're supposed to speak highly of the craft and they say you'll never become a true writer unless it's the most important thing in your whole life. But I don't feel that way about writing. For me, it's not the driving passion of my existence. But then again, things that have been my driving passion have just flickered under the blowing gale of my life, faded out, gone away. Writing, which I'm not passionate about, never leaves me. And I can't stop doing it. No matter what I do, stories jump out of my brain and spin out in long streams of words. It's just what I do.
I've accepted it. I suppose it doesn't sound like much to the Ernest Hemingway/Virginia Woolf school of writing. But it's me! Right now I'm crazy about coffee. But I'm living writing.
Today was sort of a downer. I feel extremely negative about my book right now--I feel so yucky about the characters, the plot, the setting, the language. Oh yeah, I guess that's pretty much everything about the damn thing. I hope I've learned something about writing, because I'm tempted to call it a learning experience and toss it in a drawer, never to be seen again. And then I'll wait a few years before I even think about writing another word.
It doesn't help that politics suck and my kid is in a hitting-and-biting-mommy phase. Life just feels ... kind of empty right now.
I apologise for the grody turn in my blog's tone, but I believe every woman needs to hear about this topic: hemorrhoids. They are one of the most taboo subjects in American conversation (I mean, worse than gay marriage!)--Preparation H is tied with the pregnancy test for most shoplifted item. People don't even want faceless store checkers to know they have hemorrhoids.
But I have message. If you ever have a baby, you will have hemorrhoids.
Now, they tell you that pregnant women sometimes, maybe, might possibly get hemorrhoids, but they will go away. That is a big fat lie. I never got a single one while I was pregnant. It was the six hours I was pushing an object the size of a watermelon out of an orifice the size of a lemon that gave me hemorrhoids. And you know what? Every woman I know got them that way, too!
Today, a year and a half later, they still pop up from time to time. Riding in a car for more than an hour, if I'm wearing pants, will do it to me every time. Remember that six hour flight from DC?
Anyway, I feel strongly that we need to stop treating hemorrhoids like a repellant disease, and start treating them like the minor nuisances they really are. And feel better, fellow sufferers, knowing that one good-looking 25-year old is out of the 'roid closet. =)
Well, i did a little crying yesterday. What liberal in this country didn't? What person with sense or concern for the future didn't cry? And then today I did a little laughing, reading some great ideas about counting Canadian electoral votes and seceding from the US.
Still, around here, morale is ... okay. I'm pissed off as hell our state could vote for a measure that would essentially end zoning. I'm mad that anybody could vote for an amendment that would enforce exclusionism (that's not the word I want, but you know what I mean--meanness to the LGBT folks I know). But I'm still alive and Fi is alive, and there's always the chance we can move to Canada. Or New Zealand. =)