Year: 2005

Today when I got into town on the van, my bike helmet and rear light had been stolen. Not totally surprising, as they were the two bits of bike least well attached. Frankly, it’s somewhat of a relief to have the helmet stolen, as it was cracked in a couple of places and I should’ve gotten a new one months ago.

But I had an odd reaction, or at least it seemed odd to me; I feel even more committed to my commute rides. Because I had this immense sense of sadness about not being able to ride tomorrow (even if I could wear C’s helmet, I won’t ride in near-dark without a rear light), and I realized that it’s become a habit, something I’m accustomed to doing and that I enjoy a great deal. Three weeks, I suppose, is just about the magic point.

So I’m not going to ride tomorrow, but I’m going to plan on what I really need to be a serious bike commuter, what kind of kit will get me through the winter, and I’m going to make sure that — somehow — I put it together.

Also, on a similar note, I made lasagna again tonight, and forgot an ingredient (hot water) and it still turned out pretty damn good. So failure is treating me well today.

This morning I did a timed writing exercise — writing about my first car — and when I finished, it occurred to me that the results would actually have made a pretty good blog entry.

And then it occurred to me that I’ve been waiting all my life for blogging to show up.

Last night in the van I was asked about my journaling, and I said I’ve been writing them since I was 9 years old, which is 22 years now. Whew. (Okay, it’s not like I’m an old lady, but that still feels like a really long time.) I’ve done more of this sort of writing — thinking aloud, freewriting, doodling with words — than any other kind of writing. Ever. Full stop. I started with poetry, because of school, before the journal, but I have nowhere near the volume. And fiction has always been a start-and-stop endeavor, even in the best of times.

But the journal is always there. In fact, I know that a depression is particularly bad when I can’t even write in my journal.

And somehow it’s always like I’m writing *to* somebody in my journal, even if it’s just some other segment of my own head, or the future. Which is why I loved Anais Nin’s diaries when I was in college.

*And* I kept an electronic journal, years ago, although it got stolen when that house was robbed. 🙁

So weblogging shows up, and it just meshes perfectly. Sort of like this whole web thing in general, for me. I honestly don’t know what the hell I’d be doing with my life if it weren’t for the internets.

Kat invited me to a writer’s retreat on Vashon weekend after next, which this time I can do. (she invited me out to the beach over the summer, but it was too short notice.) After last week’s writing workshop, I’m certain it’ll help me continue with my writing, esp. since she says one of the folks participating has been doing great stuff teaching a writing class this fall.

And I think we’ll probably have a game night on Halloween. The hyperviolent halfling Jayne died in Saturday’s game, trying to take on an iron golem. I’m sad, but it’s to be expected; she did something kinda foolish. 😉 I think I’m going to play a “hacker” gnome…never played a gnome before, and it could be fun.

Today was just a good day all the way around. I even had a quasi-brilliant idea for a work project…that astounds me that I didn’t think of it, oh, 6-9 months ago. But then I think about what 6-9 months ago felt like, and I’m a little easier on myself. Especially since I think I can get this running before that retreat, at least in a really skeletal form.

Right now, I’m sitting in my living room, and at the big table we put together, and looking out the window onto the fading garden, and waiting for lasagna to finish cooking. (And weirdly, listening to probably the same radio program as Elizabeth in CA, because of the wonders of the internets, and because the local stations are all on pledge week.)

The trillion things-to-do that always hover at the edge of my consiousness are still there, but they don’t quite induce the sense of panic that I so often feel. Instead, I feel cozy.

(Oh, but they need “more tents than exist in the world” in Pakistan & India. Ye gods.)

So, my long promised “odd review” program is essentially working, in its basic functions. It’s still very rough around the edges (and in the middle), but at least it works.

I have plans a-brewing for it, but for now I’m just happy that all the pieces run.

So I’ve been testing Drupal for a work project, and as happens from time to time, I’ve been testing it on this server. I’m pretty much done testing now (hooray!), and I actually got some good use out of the test version, because it seemed like a good idea to use real-ish data.

I’ve decided, then, to take the site out of the “junk drawer” and make it a real section of my site.

What is it? My life as a writer, or, morewords, is a place for me to put my “real” writing: drafts of poems, short stories, chunks of my novel. Also a listing of publications and ongoing thoughts about what writing means to me. It’s a little scary, putting this out there, more so than you’d think from a relatively prolific blogger. In particular, tossing up poem drafts, which are still relatively raw, and poetry has always been a raw format for me anyway.

But never mind that…enjoy it, if you like.

Don’t know quite yet how it’ll get integrated into the homepage, but it will, and hopefully soon. Which means that my site will be powered by 5 different web apps, one of which is my own creation (more about that soon, I think). Whew. (On that topic, is there any interest whatsoever in an integrated feed, or do y’all not care?)

Here’s an interesting tidbit that I’ll hide all the way down here, for what it’s worth. I participated in this survey today and was pleasantly surprised by the results. I remain neurotic; OTOH, the depression is falling below clinical levels, or at least to moderate ones (slightly contradictory results)…what I think I need to focus on is reducing my level of stress, given all the results together.

Which, as before, means that exercise + meds + being consious about my mental states == lifting of depression, and a return to myself.

The relationship of this last bit to the first? As I find myself in a more positive frame of mind, I’m more in the mood to write, to program, to want to do things in general. So yay, all the way around.

just wanted to note that I woke in the middle of the night with a headache that was still there when I got up. this one was very different, less severe pain, plus the pain was broadly distributed over the front & top of my head. definitely a dehydration headache, went away amazingly fast with grapefruit juice and a powerbar after my bike ride to the van this morning.

(I so didn’t feel like riding today, but I’m so very glad I did.)

also, I’m not going to be tracking these here anymore. I set up a TracksLife track for it (have been using for moods the last week or so with some effectiveness) instead.

In an unusual turn of events, C has asked me to post something for him here. He called while helping to clean fir needles off of an old lady’s roof in our neighborhood, for the neighborhood association. He was completely blown away by the experience of seeing an owl practically close enough to have a conversation with, and then later a raccoon family traipsing through the neighborhood. This is from his email to me and a couple of other association folks:

I also wanted to share that I saw a big tan colored owl while there (flew right up to me!), and also a mama raccoon and 4 kit-cubs. We are blessed to have such rich wildlife in our neighborhood, and I think that encouraging the preservation of natural niches in our backyards and alleys is important. Perhaps with attention and stewardship, these animals can coexist without becoming [a] problem.

If anybody knows about any efforts, anywhere, to look at preserving historic trees as a way of helping urban wildlife populations, or at any sort of urban/suburban wildlife habitat work, we’d both be thrilled to hear it.

(Also, I have to say that this beautiful enthusiasm & love for the critters — you should see him with the cats! — is one of the things that I love most and best about C.)

I rode home last night, and although it started raining just about at the halfway point, it felt just fantastically invigorating. To show up, at home, panting from that last bit of exertion, my glasses fogged, and then jump right into the game: a wonderful thing. We had pizza and did battle against an owlbear, who we almost took down. (“Did I cleave him this time? Did I?”)

And as I was drifting off to sleep, a bit of a poem started unwinding in my head, something directly to do with the novel, and rather than just let it go, I turned on the light, scrounged for pen/paper, and wrote it out, past that inspiration point and only then went to sleep.

Yesterday I went to a writing workshop that was held at the college — focused on play/screenwriting, but still quite excellent — actually, that helped. For the first time *ever* I wrote a bit of play dialogue, and it clicked together a key scene in my novel that I’ve had trouble envisioning. Something about focusing on (a) the conflict and (b) what they say and do, exactly.

And then this morning in the van I even finished it off, so it’s a complete scene. Which means the exercises I did yesterday, combined with Sunday’s writing, is the most writing on my novel that I’ve done in, what, a year? Hurrah.

I rode my bike to the van today, and found $16 on my way. There’s a 60-80% chance I’ll be putting my bike on the bus this afternoon, ’cause the rain started up again, but I’m okay with that. Still planning on riding as much as I can, for as long as I can.

Tonight we will be gaming again, which the last few times have been some of the best. games. evar. Me and my Jayne-inspired halfling. 🙂 The guys say I should go for more of a Zoe thing, but I like playing with Jayne’s bloodthirsty cluelessness.

Been feeling more organized at work too, not that I really mention that all too much. (This rocks.)

Still more tired than I’d like to be, but I’m afraid there’s no getting around that, at least not until 10pm – 5:30 am equals 9 hours of sleep. 🙁

So, yeah. Another day with a headache, which didn’t really go away until late this afternoon. Bleh, bleh, bleh.

On the other hand, I was riding in the car this afternoon, and had my notebook, and got actually inspired to write actual fiction. I only had a teeny-tiny notebook, so I didn’t write that much, but damn, that felt good.

And here’s a random thought, following Pandemic Flu Awareness Week: I read Barry’s Great Influenza and put a review on my site, and rant at my friends. GWB reads it, and “he decides that the military should run quarantines”:http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/ArticleNews/TPStory/LAC/20051005/BUSH05/TPHealth/ in the case of an actual flu pandemic. WTF?