Tuesday, January 19, 2010


I'm great at starting. I can start a story, a dozen stories. Finishing? No. I have tried every trick. I try writing short. Story boarding, etcetc. And then it leaves. The whisp of muse, the idea that THIS one THIS story will be the one. The one I finish, the one I edit, the one I treasure. I have this delusion that not only will I finish one (i've submitted unfinished, and sketchily finished ones) I'll SUBMIT a finished one. A complete beginnning middle end story will not only happen for me, but be the one that helps make me the writer everyone seeems to believe I am.

I have the ability to create beauty. I am as sure of that as I am of breathing. But am I capable of producing (ever) a finished product? do I fear finishing anything more substansial then a poem? It's not length or substance. I find myself as comfortable with horror as I am with romance, though I'm smoopier then I like to admit with my "sweet" stories. I think it's the looking. I shouldn't look back at my story. I invariably do. Instead of pressing forward (as I should, oh I should) I dawdle and look over what I've written and inveitably all I can see is crap. The weak plot, the transparent charactors. the MANY many many spelling and gramattical mistakes.

I'm trying to conquer some of these fears by allowing myself my imperfections in blog form. by allowing myself to write myself in the moment, in my truth. Perhaps if I can forgive my mistakes, transperencies, and flaws- I can forgive those that show up in my written world. I just want to finish one.

Saturday, January 16, 2010


First! Two weeks with no stinky tar in my lungs!

Second: Since I've added a couple of followers (hi guys!) I'll add a mini update before going into one of my usual rants.

My husband is active duty Air Force. He's away in Korea doing his job whilst I freeze my toes off here. We were looking to move to England next year.

But perhaps things have changed. It's not 100%. It's not even finalised, heck he hasn't even 100% said yes, but he WANTS to. He's perhaps got a chance at Germany. Now this was the base HE wanted from the start. I lean a little closer to Spain, Italy, and England- but Germany looks pretty great too. ANYWHERE overseas- you know? But I had the girls geared up for England. And, being a big Doctor Who fan, a giggling silly head over Brit accents, and watching BBC pretty regularly the Teenager is bummed. She wanted to be a Brit. To try out learning a cute accent. And I feel bad for her- really I do. England (the area we were heading to) had temperatures comparable to those we've been getting in Kentucky- but more regular without as many deep dips into freezing. It looks like the area of Germany we'll be heading to runs a little cooler. Again comparable to Kentucky but cooler then England.

My husband is REALLY trying to sell me on the idea. I told him it was fine. And it IS. I don't want anyone to think I'm anything less then thankful to explore other parts of the world.
That said? I was getting a little excited over England too. No need to learn a new language. I'm LAZY. BBC and London? cool. Accents.. are you kidding me? A good British or Scottish accent literally dampens my panties. It's sad, but true. I don't have the same reaction to German accents. BUT.

I'll wait until I have final word. No reason to get psyched up over it if it doesn't happen. No reason to build one up or the other down. I've filled the kids in on there being a chance of change. Elder DD is bummed younger DD still wants us to go to China- but is excited about EVERYTHING. And in the meantime? I guess it's time to dig up those German learning tapes we bought when the hubs was first trying to get us to Germany. it's what HE wants- and ultimately since he's the one who'll be working over there his choice is final.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

one week

Just a quickie today. It's been a week since I let my elder daughter throw my cigarette packs in the trash. My sense of smell is returning, but thanks to nicotine replacement I'm not a total bitch. YAY ME!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Snow school

It's snowing.

For most people this is something they're either used to or not. I am and I'm not. It's been YEARS since I was faced with snow. Snow and children? Never before. Today is a sno-school day. Translation? No school for my kiddies due to there being a small amound of frozen white stuff not only ON the roads/ground etc but still falling from the sky. We've experienced a few days of snow before this one. One day it was good enough to make a snow person out of.

There is something magic about the big fat dancing flakes Something especially strange and amazing about ground covered with what is, esentially, water. That what would otherwise be rain can look like magic, like fairy dust. But damn, it's cold.

I've mentioned before that I am a very very spoilt desert rat. The last 9 years of my life were spent in Tucson, Arizona. IT snows on the mountains occasionally. Every 5 years or so the snow even touches ground. It very very rarely drops below freezing during th day there.

Here? The temperatures have been between 30 and 18 for over a week. The other day it was no joke 8 degrees outside. I didn't even know that was a temperature. Well, okay I knew- lbut experiencing it? No thanks.

I am not fond of being cold. I love the way my girls look bundled in layers of clothing. I love my gorgous pale winter skin. I'm lucky enough to be blessed with the sort of skin that looks nice pale and cold flushed. The girls are as well. We're all so beautiful. And COLD! My electric bill is shockingly high. I'm careful about what lights I leave on. Careful not to CRANK up the heater, despite being so tempted. But the result of heating a house from well below freezing to livable is a higher then usual electric bill.

We can handle it, I'm paying it later then I usually do this month- due to being stupider then usual with my spending last month. I'd blame Christmas, but really it was mostly me.

I'm not fond of the lack of sunshine. I had too MUCH bright and hot in the desert. NOT enough sun here. It's amazing how a place this green manages to freeze every year and yet come back. Some of the grass under that thin layer of white is STILL green. I havn't seen the sun more then a few times the last few months and the grass manages to stay green. It's surreal.

Any way! This morning I displayed an amazing moment of good parent/bad parent quandry. My younger daughter wanted so bad to go play in the snow. How can I deny the eager joy of fresh snow? Isn't that part of the reason I dragged these poor children cross country? I might be fighting the season but younger daughter wants to embrace it in all it's icy white glory. So. I bundle her up. two (in places three) layers. gloves, socks, snow boots. I untape the back door (I duct taped the bottom to block an especially cold leaky draft.) and I let her out. I then watch- from inside- out the window thats set in the door. I watch from my nice warm indoors while my sweet baby gets ice in her gloves, catches flakes on her freakishly long tongue and throws fistfulls of snow in the air just to watch it fall.

I talk her into coming in after a while, when the snow that got under her gloves starts to melt make make her hands cold and wet. And the quandry begins. I SHOULD have gone out with her. I still can. We can go out and play. It's not deep enough for proper snow men or flapping our arms to make angels It's not deep enough to jump around in. But there's enough of it liing about and falling to play., a little. It's just so COLD! And WET and eeeww!

Bad mommy? I don't know. I know I'm going to "man" up put on layers and go try to drive in it later. I need orange juice. Perhaps driving in snow (for the first time, EVER) will be the grown up equivalent of playing in it?

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

another barely edited rambling shambling mess of a post

I am a geek, a fan girl, and a lonesome randy perv.
I have the hots for:
Two captins: Malcolm Reynolds and cap'n Jack Harkness.
Two doctors: Tennent as Doctor Who and Dr. Horrible.
One vampire (And only one, EVER) Spike.
One pod cast editors voice.
Also: A goodly portion of the cast of Criminal minds makes me squee most especially the lanky brainy boy and the very gorgous curvy computer geek girl.
I seem to have a "thing" for people who are written for girls like me. Which makes sense. Whenever I do info gathering on the players/people behind of these wonderful written folks I'm often dissapinted they don't match up. But that's to be expected. fiction is made pretty for people like me. People who live in fantasy and eat it up with a spoon. There are many a book persona I've loved/lusted after as well- but right now, mostly due to a very lonesome libido, the boob tube has me in it's grip.
The last of the David Tennent Dr. Who episodes was on Sat. And both my darling teenaged daughter and I were in tears over the loss of our (so far) favorite doctor. They always say you love your first the best- but who couldn't love Tennent as the Doctor at least a little? Funny, cute, long and lean, and he had really great hair.
Re-watching all the BTVS episodes with her, 'cause she apparently loves them so. We've reached Once more with feeling and she, like me is deeplyu enamored with Spike. His sweetness, his broken spirit, tempered by his moods. His sadisum a little later in isn't so great, and I have a feeling we're going to have to do a bit of "Skipping" more so then we already have with the adult stuff. Plus fun mother daughter chats about how a bad boy is tre' sexy but not, in the long run, any good any good at all. *Sigh* when did entertainment have to get so learnie?
Especially when all I want to do is sdrool over those gorgous cheekbones, that slim firm frame.. oh gawds that gorgous droolworthy lickable.. er.. hehe. ANYWAY
I'm also so lonesome. I've only managed to make one non-digital friend out here in the big bad "Real" world. And.. she's temporary. She's not wholly my friend nor am I wholly hers. Wer're filler for each other. She has so MANY MANY people who love and adore her- while I have only a small select few. She's gregarious where I'm generally quiet (except when I'm not). She knows how to say the right thing where I seem to always have one foot or another somewhere in the vicinity of my mouth. And yet I like her, I'd like to know her better. Waht's more I think she feels the same for me, but we hold back. I can only guess why she'd hld back with me. But I know EXACTLY why I hold back with her. Want a list? too bad! My blog!
1. I've become shy. My social graces are lacking.
2. I know I'm awkward. I giggle when I'm nervous, I twitch and I make other nervous gestures that put people off- and I know this unsettles folks so I try to stay away
3. She's gorgous and I'm afraid I'll become attracted to her.
4. She's my age, and gregarious. My friends have up to this point been older or younger. It's strange knowing someone my own age who is as outgoing as my 20 something friends were in the past
5. I'm no good at friendmaking. I've become rusty at it. I HAVE a best friend. He's just really really far away right now.
6. I'm not used to being friends with women. Almost all of my better past friendships have been with men of some sort or another. They're easier to understand then women. We;re a complicated lot.
7. Have I mentioned that she's gorgous?

So there's my list.
anyway. I need food, a tylenol and something to help me get past my ciggie craving. HAve I mentioned that I quit smoking?

Monday, January 4, 2010


Will he ever completely leave my dreams? Has he come to represent something to my subconscious?? It seems so wrong on so many levels. This beautiful man child I keep dreaming of. A conglomeration of my best friend of teenage years and every man I've every lusted after since. None of them even remotely resembling my husband. He comforts me, this dream boy toy. We often nearly have sex, but get distracted along the way. He holds me, curled along his side like a child. He's so big in my dreams, taller then he ever was in "life" better built. But that's because he has become something perfect, something unattainable. Am I trying to get in touch with the part of myself that he represents? Is the near sex supposed to represent something? I have long since recovered from my teenage crush on this particular man. He's grown into someone I no longer know. And that's fine- that's the way life should be. In my waking world the only man I want to hold me is my husband. But in my dreaming life? This is the boy I dream of. Perfect, forever frozen at a perfect age somewhere between 18 and 20 something he is far more gorgeous then his analog. Far more brilliant, far more comforting than ANY man I've ever known.
I just wish I knew what it meant. Why must he turn up in so many of my dreams? Why? It seems perverse and wrong on so many levels! Can't I make a copy of my husband to play with in slumber? Apparently he only turns up when I'm battling demons and monsters, standing at my back. Good to know my Beloved has my back- but why can't I dream hand holding, snuggling, and (instead of near sex) full glorious complete sexual encounters? No- apparently I get my dream man. This strange conglomeration of someone I've grown apart from and every damn man I ever truly lusted after. Pale of skin, dark of hair, blue of eye. Build like a god, and strong and sensitive and stunningly brilliant. Oh dear I'm drooling picturing him. damn it.