Hide The Mess

anxiety, worry, etc.

I have a stupid gyno appointment today. I do not want to go. Like, I cried this morning just thinking about being there. The last time I had a lady exam it was about 3 months after having the kid and let me tell you that was one of the most painful smears I've ever had. And I do not want to do that again. But you know, female health and all, I have to go. But holy Jesus I have some serious anxiety going on right now. If drinking tequila at 10am wasn't frowned upon I would totally take a shot right now so I could calm my ass down. They're probably going to also tell me it's time for another mammogram, which really wasn't that bad the last time I had one, but still, I don't like the girls mistreated that way. It's rude.

I got a Nook for my birthday and I must admit: I effing love it. I've resisted the whole e-reader thing because I like books. I like holding books. I like turning pages and everything that's associated with holding a book in your hand. So it took me a couple of weeks to even break the Nook out of its box. And then, I loaded the book Going In Circles by Pamela Ribon  and proceeded to finish it in two days and ask myself the question "why the hell did I resist the e-reader so much?!". Seriously. That thing is awesome. And the book was awesome. And also, I totally geeked out after I'd sent the author a tweet that I was reading her book and she tweeted me back. I actually jumped up and down as I'm telling my husband that HOLY SHIT SHE REPLIED TO ME. Seriously. I was totally stoked by that. As I'm reading the book I'm watching the page number thing at the bottom that tells you you're on page 145 of 246 and as there are less and less pages to read I know I should stop reading so I can make this book last longer but I can't bring myself to slow down, I just keep reading and reading and then I'm done and I feel a little sad that it was over and then I call my BFF because I was high on reading and needed to talk to another book junkie about how totally high I was right then. Ha. I get high off reading. I'm totally rad. Obviously, I've loaded more books on that thing and will probably not get any of the packing I'm supposed to be doing done because I'm too busy snorting books.

hodgepodge

I made pumpkin bread yesterday. It is awesome.

I found a new Elizabeth Berg book on Saturday. It was like a gift from The Universe in my time of need. I am not being dramatic. If I told you about my Saturday you would understand. Maybe I will later.

On Saturday night we went to see my cousins band play at a bar around the corner from our house. I am so glad that we ended up doing this. I could have been talked out of going because of the aforementioned hellish Saturday but I'm so glad we went. Their band is really good and fun and plays old familiar cover tunes. I also got to see my other cousin. He tells everyone I am his most favorite cousin of all time and that always makes me feel warm on the inside. He is having a hard time these days. Wife trouble and therapy came up in conversation but it's hard to have that kind of conversation with Jessie's Girl blasting in your ear. He and I should have lunch or something. I think he's very sad.

I am only working two days this week. My lovely new boss told me to take another day - not a vacation day, not a personal day, not a sick day - just a day, free of charge. So I'm only working Monday and Tuesday this week. Which means I need to go in there and bust my ass over the next two days so that I don't obsessively check email while I'm out. Granted, it's Thanksgiving week and usually a slow time, but I don't assume anything about anything anymore. 

We're having dinner with my sister, one nephew and my step mom on Tuesday. I plan to use my new camera to take obnoxious amounts of pictures! I broke my camera during wedding preparations and have been limping along, using it knowing that it was possible the pictures would turn out like shit because the lens was all jacked up and now I have a new camera and will resume my role as the person who takes obnoxious amounts of pictures, which people complain about but then love because everyone loves to see pictures of themselves. I don't care who you are, even if you hate to have your picture taken, you still look through photos trying to find yourself so that you can either confirm or refute the pictures representation of you. All this to say, much picture taking this holiday season! Yea!

wildlife & melancholy

The news story about a wild baby deer jumping into the lion enclosure makes me sad every time I think about it. Sad for the baby deer, sad for all the people who watched that happen and sad for that lioness. You know she thought she was going to get a delicious snack and was DENIED. I wish I hadn't see the video, because now it's forever inside my head.

A book I'm reading, Water For Elephants, is making me melancholy. I have trouble with circuses, I've seen too many undercover reports on the horrific abuse some of those animals endure (thanks a lot tabloid tv!), and while this book doesn't detail any specific abuse, sometimes what isn't said, or what is simply alluded to makes what happens inside my brain even worse.

Actually, I think that book is just giving me an excuse to feel melancholy. Sometimes I just want to feel sad, so I will read things or watch things or listen to music that reduces me to tears simply because I want the specific release of sadness. There are authors who do that to me, who write in such a way that it's as if whatever is happening in the book is happening to me. I don't necessarily feel that way about Water For Elephants, but I have a feeling when I'm finished an Elizabeth Berg book will find its way into my hands. I think I have everything she's written and I'm pretty sure every one of her books has made me cry. I remember the first time The BFF and I read Talk Before Sleep, oh sweet Lord Jesus did we cry. Actually, sobbed is more like it. Just thinking about it makes me want to read it again. Maybe I'll just pull down all of her books and re-read them. She is such a beautiful, gifted writer. She does what I wish I could do. I have writers envy, but in the best, most positive way.

I am off work today, it's Veterans Day and so you know, bank holiday. It's weird to have a Wednesday off though. It sort of makes it feel like there are two Mondays or something. But I am not complaining. I need some time off. So today I will meet The BFF at the gym, I will attempt to lift weights, which I hate with a passion and then I will come home and unpack some pictures and get them on our barren walls. Finally!

motivation

I am having a hard time finding motivation at work. I drink Red Bull and listen to my head phones and yet I still don't really want to be there or do the job that's on my desk. I don't know what I want to do really. I'm in my sixth year at the bank and this is now officially my longest place of employment and ... I don't know. I feel restless. But the thought of looking for a job, especially right now, oh hell no. So I'm staying, but dude, my desire to be there is pretty damn low. I should take a couple of vacation days, but I won't. I'm saving the rest of my vacation time for the holidays. Although I do have two months of six time ... hmmm ... it's very tempting to use that. But I won't do that either. Because of karma.

I need to go to the book store in the worst way. I think this is the first time in years that I don't have a stack of books waiting to be read. I read the way I do most everything, in a binge / purge sort of way. And right now, I'm in the mood for a binge. I finished Good Family by Terry Gamble and... eh. It took me forever to read it, partly because it was the book in my gym bag and my gym going has become sporadic - I'm blaming the move - so it took me forever to read, but honestly, it was just boring. There were entirely too many descriptions of the decor for my taste. I don't care so much about the curtains and decorations of the house - I want to know about the people. Some of them were interesting and had depth, but honestly, the minutiae about the surroundings was distracting and I skimmed large sections because I could not read anymore about the linens in the bedroom. I finished that book and thought "Thank GOD that is over". I realize that at any time I could have put it down and read something else, but that goes back to my original problem: I'm out of books. And all of my back up books, books that I will read over and over are packed away somewhere. Yes, that's right. I'm still unpacking. THREE WEEKS LATER. It isn't that we are lazy, I swear. It's just we don't have a place for some things and until we do, what's the point of taking it out of the box just to stack it on the floor and make me crazy with clutter? No point. So until we have book shelves, the books will stay packed. I have a list of books I want to look at and I guess I could order them online but that would rob me of wandering around the bookstore and that is one of the simple pleasures in life.

Here's Jacob napping. Just because.

Being good at one thing doesn’t make you good at the other thing

I guess, just because you're an awesome writer doesn't mean you're an awesome public speaker. This isn't really a newsflash to me, but it was brought into focus so clearly – not that I didn't enjoy the lecture (or whatever it was called) last night – it just wasn't … I don't know … it wasn't something. I do know this, if I ever published a novel (which: not bloody likely) I'd put in my contract with the publisher that I will never, ever, stand on a stage and give any kind of lecture or talk or speech or whathaveyou. Won't do it. The reason I write? Because I like hiding behind the paper and the words. Being in front of a group of people and having them all look at me? Oh hell no. I wasn't always this way. I was in choir, I sang solos in church, I've been in musicals that required dancing and costumes – but that was one trillion light years ago. Now the idea of standing on stage and performing gives me hives. Maybe it's old age, I don't know. But I'll stick to the hit and run kind of thing. Where I write down what I want to say, post it, and then run and hide.

Name Dropping

Tonight I'm going to add another Author I've Met In Real Life to my list. The current list has two names on it, both impressive, at least to me.

No. 1 - I totally name drop to anyone who cares that I've met, shook hands with, exchanged words with:  Ray Freakin' Bradbury. If you know who that is, the answer is yes, he is just as cool as you might think. And he kinda scared me a little bit too. I'd just finished reading Fahrenheit 451 and he signed it for me and everything and I swear if anything happens to that book I will cry like someone killed my puppy.

No. 2 - A few years ago The BFF and I drove to Houston to meet Marianne Williamson. I stood in that line, looked at The BFF and said "oh my god I think I'm going to be one of those people who cries when they meet her. I don't want to be one of those people!"  I didn't cry, I sucked it up, but holy shit, I wanted to. Because that lady changed my life. Seemed appropriate that the book she signed for me was called The Gift Of Change.

And now, tonight, I'm going to stand in another line and meet Sue Monk Kidd. Her fiction writing is exquisite. Really. And the one piece of non-fiction I've read? Well, lets just say earlier this year I was constantly posting blogs about how this book was ripping my heart out. In a good way.

like a sugar addict on a ding dong bender

I picked up this book by Sara Nelson titled So Many Books, So Little Time. And I am hooked. I'm like a sugar addict on a Ding Dong bender (tee hee that sounds dirty. What? No. Ok, then, fine, it sounds dirty, to me).

Here's why:

Explaining the moment of connection between a reader and a book to someone who's never experienced it is like trying to describe sex to a virgin.

Who will be hit with the thunderbolt, and during which book, and why, is as magical as love itself, and probably as unanalyzable … Like those stories in women's magazines that ask you to guess which man looks as though he goes with which woman, how books and people mate remains, forever, a mystery.

See?! It's a book about the love of books and one woman's commitment to reading a book a week for one year. And so far, it is Awesome. With a capital A.  If you're a book junkie – I highly recommend it.

hunger

Ok, so a few months ago I finished the book Escaping Into the Open: The Art of Writing True by Elizabeth Berg and at the prompting of this brilliant writer I went through a bunch of magazines I had sitting around and just started cutting some things out. Random things - pictures I liked, things I thought were cool or interesting or whatever. And then it was Christmas and New Years and my birthday and the folder I put all of those things in just sort of lived underneath lots of other stuff. Until this week. I started sifting through them and found a picture with these words underneath it:

"It seems to me that our three basic needs; for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it ... and it is all one." M.F.K. Fisher (The Art of Eating: 50th Anniversary Edition)

Sometimes other people write things that could have been lifted right out of my head.

punctuation paranoia

I'm reading the book Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss. I have a couple of Smarty Pants friends (hi N'awlins girl! hi BFF!) who have raved about it and said it's funny in a way that I would totally dig. And it IS funny - but not as funny as I thought it would be based on all their raving. I think what's happened is that some of the funniness has been sucked out by my increasing punctuation paranoia. And just FYI: I have edited this teeny tiny paragraph twelve times because I'm all insecure about my apostrophe use - and really? Did I need another thing to feel insecure about? Apparently I did.
My favorite part so far is in the section on commas (Yes, you read that right. There's an entire section devoted to commas. And that's a sentence I never thought I’d write. Ever.): "The big final rule for the comma is one that you won't find in any books by grammarians. It is quite easy to remember, however. The rule is: don't use commas like a stupid person." Heh. Exactly.

good books are like crack

I am reading this book - at the recommendation of more than one person - My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult and even though I'm not finished yet, I've got about 165 pages left, I'm starting to really despise one of the main characters. Seriously. Like, I kinda hate her now. And she isn't one of those characters who is written so obviously one dimensional that you can tell right away that she's The Bad Guy and you're supposed to hate her. She isn't written as a stereotype so loudly that you know a few pages in exactly where her character is going. It's subtler than that, which of course, I totally love.
I'm actually surprised that I don't like this woman at this point in the book because it was this character who, in the beginning,  brought tears to my eyes. But now, the more I read, the more hostility I feel toward her. In fact, I woke up this morning thinking about the people in this book (what? is that weird?) and wanted to skip work so I could stay in bed and finish it. Which I've done before, and yes, I understand that makes me kind of a dork but that's not really a surprise since I was also that girl in high school who would sneak read books during science or algebra and one time even during gym (no lie!), when I clearly should have been memorizing the very helpful and always useful quadratic equation.
There are some books I purposely read just a little at a time because I want the stories to last, Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer was like that or any book by Elizabeth Berg but this book? I just want to power read my way through to the end in a way I haven't done in a long time. Like I want to whip out my book in traffic and read at every stop light - which I stopped doing as a general rule because people are NOT TOLERANT of less than quick responses to red lights turning green in this city. Not immediately moving forward when the light turns is grounds for getting a cap popped in your ass. For real. Folks in this town are not fucking around with the aggressive driving - and I say this as someone who is one of those aggressive drivers. If I were held up at a green light because some chick was reading a book I would be all kinds of annoyed and put out. Yeah. I'm a hypocrite like that. See? I did learn something from all those years in church. ha.