I've never had skinny pants before. Skinny pants are those pair of pants you can't fit into anymore because you've gained weight, but you keep around because you're hoping to loose weight. I've always been skinny, or at least thin, so I've never had them. In college I could still fit into a pair of jeans I had in middle school. Okay, they were tight, but I could still put them on...
After college I gained about 5 pounds. That's right, that's all I gained. When I hit 30 everyone told me I was in for some trouble because that's when people's metabolisms change. Around 31 I felt fortunate, because I was still a size 4/6 (although more on the 6 side of things). Not bad for over 30 right? But 32 and 33 kicked my butt.
Because I got deployed right before winter, I didn't pull out my winter clothes from 2 years ago until recently. I was wearing uniforms all the time, so why would I bother with semi-professional dress when I could just wear jeans in my off time? To my unfortunate surprise, everything was a little tight. It's been getting even tighter over the past month.
I've gone up to wearing an 8! An 8 I tell you!!!! Now, I'm not saying I'm fat, because I'm far from fat, but I have to admit, I'm just not skinny anymore. I'm about 15 pounds heavier than my ideal weight, which isn't the end of the world, but is shocking never the less.
Keep in mind I started to gain this weight while I was on active duty, exercising regularly. Now that I'm an unemployed slug I haven't gone running since...well, the Army.
I did a series of crunches this morning, and while running is completely out of the question for me until the winter sludge goes away (Boston has some serious drainage problems) I'm planning on skiing this weekend to get a little more active. But I've got to say, I might actually have to...diet.
Yesterday's food intake breaks down like this... Before you say, gasp, no wonder you're gaining weight, keep in mind that two years ago I could double this and still loose weight.
Breakfast: 1 piece leftover pizza
Snack 1: 3 peanut butter cookies and a glass of milk (whole milk)
Snack 2 (in place of lunch): 1 Snickers bar (almond..yum)
Snack 3: one cup of grapes
Dinner: Bowl of Kitcheri (see I eat healthy sometimes) with a glass of milk (whole milk)
Dessert: 1 peanut butter cookie
No doubt I can improve my eating habits, but calorie-wise, I don't think I ate that much. The pizza had carbs, but the cookies and snickers were just plain sugar. Or not, I'm not sure about peanut butter cookies, they have flour and peanut butter...I wonder where that falls?
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
1000 Novels Challenge
I was browsing my friend Molly's Blog and saw her challenge. Apparently a friend of hers found a list of "must reads" on the Guardian, a UK newspaper I love to read, and decided to issue a challenge.
Read 1o books from the list with at least one book from each category. One book should be something you've never heard of before. The challenge runs for one year, (February to February) and you must review the books on your blog. Links to the challenge are posted below.
The Challenge
or
The Challenge (from the Guardian website)
Read 1o books from the list with at least one book from each category. One book should be something you've never heard of before. The challenge runs for one year, (February to February) and you must review the books on your blog. Links to the challenge are posted below.
The Challenge
or
The Challenge (from the Guardian website)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I Want This Job
I have gone from I'll find a job to I hope I find a job to I just want any job to I want THIS job. THIS Job happens to be a curriculum design job for an Education Development Center focused on creating hands on lesson plans for schools in California. I just finished my master's so I'm now qualified, but I'm not holding my breath.
I always thought I was okay at putting together cover letters and resumes, but I'm not having any interest in the online applications I've sent for other jobs. HR seems to block any attempts I make to correspond with departments that I might actually be working with. I have always hated job searches and have had most of my luck working through temp agencies, with the obvious exception of jobs in schools. Both times I interviewed for school jobs I got the job on the first day. Here, I can't even get schools to tell me no. They just don't respond at all.
But a job designing curriculum is my DREAM JOB. It would be perfect, and I know I'd nail the interview...if only they call me.
So my head is whispering please, please, please all day long (another meat grinder moment) but I'm still going to make that appointment with the temp agency. If I can't get my dream job hopefully I can get A job...somewhere...doing something productive. please, please, please...
I always thought I was okay at putting together cover letters and resumes, but I'm not having any interest in the online applications I've sent for other jobs. HR seems to block any attempts I make to correspond with departments that I might actually be working with. I have always hated job searches and have had most of my luck working through temp agencies, with the obvious exception of jobs in schools. Both times I interviewed for school jobs I got the job on the first day. Here, I can't even get schools to tell me no. They just don't respond at all.
But a job designing curriculum is my DREAM JOB. It would be perfect, and I know I'd nail the interview...if only they call me.
So my head is whispering please, please, please all day long (another meat grinder moment) but I'm still going to make that appointment with the temp agency. If I can't get my dream job hopefully I can get A job...somewhere...doing something productive. please, please, please...
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
I Ran Over a Goat Riding a Motorcycle Because I Think I Need Some Serious Help!
Pick the month you were born:
January-----I kicked
February----I loved
March-------I karate chopped
April---------I licked
May---------I jumped on
June---------I smelled
July---------I did the Macarena With
August------I had lunch with
September--I danced with
October-----I sang to
November--I yelled at
December---I ran over
Pick the day (number) you were born on:
1——-a birdbath
2——-a monster
3——-a phone
4——-a fork
5——-a snowman
6——-a gangster
7——-my mobile phone
8——-my dog
9——-my best friends’ boyfriend
10——my neighbour
11——my science teacher
12——a banana
13——a fireman
14——a stuffed animal
15——a goat
16——a pickle
17——your mom
18——a spoon
19——a smurf
20—--a baseball bat
21——a ninja
22——Chuck Norris
23——a noodle
24——a squirrel
25——a football player
26——my sister
27——my brother
28——an iPod
29——a surfer
30——a homeless guy
31——a llama
What is the last number of the year you were born:
1——— in my car
2 ———on your car
3 ———in a hole
4 ———under your bed
5 ———riding a motorcycle
6 ———sliding down a hill
7 ———in an elevator
8———-at the dinner table
9 ——– in line at the bank
0 ——– in your bathroom
Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:
White———because I’m cool like that
Black———-because that’s how I roll.
Pink———–because I’m NOT crazy.
Red———–-because the voices told me to.
Blue———–because I’m sexy and I do what I want
Green———because I think I need some serious help.
Purple——--because I’m AWESOME!
Gray———-because Big Bird said to and he’s my leader.
Yellow——-because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange——because my family thinks I’m stupid anyway.
Brown——-because I can.
Other——--because I’m a Ninja!
None——--because I can’t control myself!
The sentence you make is the title of your blog post if you choose to continue this meme.
January-----I kicked
February----I loved
March-------I karate chopped
April---------I licked
May---------I jumped on
June---------I smelled
July---------I did the Macarena With
August------I had lunch with
September--I danced with
October-----I sang to
November--I yelled at
December---I ran over
Pick the day (number) you were born on:
1——-a birdbath
2——-a monster
3——-a phone
4——-a fork
5——-a snowman
6——-a gangster
7——-my mobile phone
8——-my dog
9——-my best friends’ boyfriend
10——my neighbour
11——my science teacher
12——a banana
13——a fireman
14——a stuffed animal
15——a goat
16——a pickle
17——your mom
18——a spoon
19——a smurf
20—--a baseball bat
21——a ninja
22——Chuck Norris
23——a noodle
24——a squirrel
25——a football player
26——my sister
27——my brother
28——an iPod
29——a surfer
30——a homeless guy
31——a llama
What is the last number of the year you were born:
1——— in my car
2 ———on your car
3 ———in a hole
4 ———under your bed
5 ———riding a motorcycle
6 ———sliding down a hill
7 ———in an elevator
8———-at the dinner table
9 ——– in line at the bank
0 ——– in your bathroom
Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:
White———because I’m cool like that
Black———-because that’s how I roll.
Pink———–because I’m NOT crazy.
Red———–-because the voices told me to.
Blue———–because I’m sexy and I do what I want
Green———because I think I need some serious help.
Purple——--because I’m AWESOME!
Gray———-because Big Bird said to and he’s my leader.
Yellow——-because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange——because my family thinks I’m stupid anyway.
Brown——-because I can.
Other——--because I’m a Ninja!
None——--because I can’t control myself!
The sentence you make is the title of your blog post if you choose to continue this meme.
Monday, January 19, 2009
My Mind is a Meat Grinder
Recently Gerd has been complaining that I keep bringing up the same unanswerable topic daily and it's starting to get on his nerves. Logically I have to submit resumes to Ireland, Boston, and New Mexico, but there are things I can do to make easier when we do move. Like get certified in elementary, middle school, or adult education. Or apply for ESL certification. The problem with this is...everything costs money. Every test is at least $100, and the later I register the more money it costs. Massachusetts test begin at $200 and go up to $500 (for one additional certification).
In New Mexico I need to take the elementary test ($89) submit a license request ($25) and submit a request for ESL certification (another $25 plus possibly another $89 test).
In Massachusetts I need to find a job, but they're even worse about tests. I should be certified 7-12 History and Language Arts. Problem is, I've taken only 1 of the 4 tests to get that far. Each test is $200 (when you register on time) I would need 6-8 History, 5-8 Language Arts, and 7-12 Language Arts to match my current certification in New Mexico. That doesn't even take into account the possibility of ESL (another $200) or adult education (another $200).
If I knew what I could teach in Ireland (100 euro charge for review) I could tailor my next move to best lead up to a good job. To have a review of transcripts done I have to get all official transcripts, three letters of reference, and all of my paperwork to Ireland. Since I don't have an Irish address, this becomes even more difficult because if I'm missing anything I don't know how I'll hear about it, although I think I'm possibly making a bigger deal out of this than it really is.
It's definately the first step, but of course everyone is closed today for MLK day.
So I keep asking where we're going to be, and, still there's no resolution. The thing is, my mind is one of those meat grinders. It keeps grinding and grinding, and the less there is to grind, the more it grinds the same thing over and over again. I need something new to grind. I don't mean to drive Gerd crazy, I just can't seem to stop grinding the same subject to smithereens.
I think the plan is to volunteer somewhere. Maybe that will give me something else to think about. I can still submit paperwork, but I've got to do something before I go completely insane.
In New Mexico I need to take the elementary test ($89) submit a license request ($25) and submit a request for ESL certification (another $25 plus possibly another $89 test).
In Massachusetts I need to find a job, but they're even worse about tests. I should be certified 7-12 History and Language Arts. Problem is, I've taken only 1 of the 4 tests to get that far. Each test is $200 (when you register on time) I would need 6-8 History, 5-8 Language Arts, and 7-12 Language Arts to match my current certification in New Mexico. That doesn't even take into account the possibility of ESL (another $200) or adult education (another $200).
If I knew what I could teach in Ireland (100 euro charge for review) I could tailor my next move to best lead up to a good job. To have a review of transcripts done I have to get all official transcripts, three letters of reference, and all of my paperwork to Ireland. Since I don't have an Irish address, this becomes even more difficult because if I'm missing anything I don't know how I'll hear about it, although I think I'm possibly making a bigger deal out of this than it really is.
It's definately the first step, but of course everyone is closed today for MLK day.
So I keep asking where we're going to be, and, still there's no resolution. The thing is, my mind is one of those meat grinders. It keeps grinding and grinding, and the less there is to grind, the more it grinds the same thing over and over again. I need something new to grind. I don't mean to drive Gerd crazy, I just can't seem to stop grinding the same subject to smithereens.
I think the plan is to volunteer somewhere. Maybe that will give me something else to think about. I can still submit paperwork, but I've got to do something before I go completely insane.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Fireplace
When Gerd and I went house shopping he had a list of requirements that seemed a bit excessive to me at the time.
First, it had to have lots of light (preferably from south facing windows). It must have wood floors, laundry in the unit, a deck, and a fireplace. It must allow cats, have two bedrooms, an updated kitchen and bathroom, have quick access to the interstate, be within reasonable walking distance of downtown Boston and within minutes to a T stop. Plus we had a budget and he only gave me one month to find a place that met all of these requirements.
I managed to find exactly what we wanted (although we did go over budget a little to get it). I could have found something similar in a slightly better location if we'd been willing to give in on something...most likely the fireplace. Many brownstones have fake fireplaces, so finding a fully functioning fireplace was excellent luck.
We love our fireplace. Right now Gerd is snuggled up on the sheepskin rug watching the fire. He reminds me of a little boy with a train set around Christmas. There is nothing quite as contenting as a fire during a cold winter. I am so glad he convinced me we really did need everything on the list.
First, it had to have lots of light (preferably from south facing windows). It must have wood floors, laundry in the unit, a deck, and a fireplace. It must allow cats, have two bedrooms, an updated kitchen and bathroom, have quick access to the interstate, be within reasonable walking distance of downtown Boston and within minutes to a T stop. Plus we had a budget and he only gave me one month to find a place that met all of these requirements.
I managed to find exactly what we wanted (although we did go over budget a little to get it). I could have found something similar in a slightly better location if we'd been willing to give in on something...most likely the fireplace. Many brownstones have fake fireplaces, so finding a fully functioning fireplace was excellent luck.
We love our fireplace. Right now Gerd is snuggled up on the sheepskin rug watching the fire. He reminds me of a little boy with a train set around Christmas. There is nothing quite as contenting as a fire during a cold winter. I am so glad he convinced me we really did need everything on the list.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Joie de Vivre
Okay, so this is a multiple post in one day, which I've told myself I should do. Yet, here I am, and here are the headlines.
1) Wally has prostate cancer. I may not get along with him, but I certainly don't wish my step-father any ill will (now that I'm old enough to respect our differences) and I hope everything will be okay. Turns out they caught everything early on, so it shouldn't be difficult to treat. I think they're planning on putting radiation in his balls.
2) Conversation with college deep thinker reveals that I am sad. Now I don't mean right now, apparently I present an image of sadness, which I never realized before. True, I have my bouts of melancholy, but I figured I seemed like a normal person who has ups and downs, not just downs. I do have ups you know. Maybe I should work on presenting my ups a little bit more. Hard to do while I'm still sitting on this couch, but really I'm often happy when not drugged.
Yeay! My boyfriend is home from work! He's the creme de le creme. My forever man. (Does that sound happy? I am being honest...I do love him with all the joie de vivre I can muster)
1) Wally has prostate cancer. I may not get along with him, but I certainly don't wish my step-father any ill will (now that I'm old enough to respect our differences) and I hope everything will be okay. Turns out they caught everything early on, so it shouldn't be difficult to treat. I think they're planning on putting radiation in his balls.
2) Conversation with college deep thinker reveals that I am sad. Now I don't mean right now, apparently I present an image of sadness, which I never realized before. True, I have my bouts of melancholy, but I figured I seemed like a normal person who has ups and downs, not just downs. I do have ups you know. Maybe I should work on presenting my ups a little bit more. Hard to do while I'm still sitting on this couch, but really I'm often happy when not drugged.
Yeay! My boyfriend is home from work! He's the creme de le creme. My forever man. (Does that sound happy? I am being honest...I do love him with all the joie de vivre I can muster)
Why am am I on the couch?
The sky is actually blue outside today in Dublin. I can tell because I opened one of the curtains to check. Originally I'd planned on going to visit Dublin Castle today, but for some reason, I'm still sitting on the couch.
True, I've been fighting off a cold. This weekend Gerd and I went over to Galway to see the Cliffs of Moher, and on the way I made him walk out to the coast with me, even though it was about a mile, freezing rain, and slippery rock the whole way. I was prefectly fine when we made it to the cliffs (they look like the edge of the world, by the way) but on the way to our hotel I started to feel horrible.
Now, I'll try not to get too graphic, but this is relevant. I started my period, as expected, except I was wondering if I was going to start it after all. I'd been on and off spotting for a week before Aund Flo was due, had midcycle bleeding before that. So things weren't all right in the normal scheme of things.
By the time Gerd got me home, driving 100 km/hr down narrow, winding, BUMPY roads I had cramps so bad they almost doubled me over. When we got home I took too asperin, took a very long hot shower, changed out the necessary "paperwork" and watched some Irish TV for an hour. It was time to join friends of his for a night on the town, and by then I was back in good form, or at least good enough form to enjoy some traditional Irish music at a local pub.
I should mention that I hadn't really been drinking up until now, primarily because I don't drink much, but also because I was a bit freaked out about the strange goings ons of my nether region. I didn't think I was pregnant, but not altogether sure I wasn't either, at least until my temperature dove and I started really bleeding. Anyway, so I thought that finally I could have a drink and feel secure that I wouldn't be spawning alcoholic children, but the taste made me nautious. I must have ordered 4 drinks, but taken no more than a sip or two of each one, then passing it off to Gerd (who became quite intoxicated).
So by the next morning I thought I knew the schpeel. I've had periods for ages, I know what to expect, but I didn't expect this. (Sorry, this is where it gets graphic) Massive, I mean massive blood clots the size of an orange. Bleeding that went through all barriers in 30 minutes. And then, 2 hours later, it stopped.
No more blood. No more period, and a day set to see the hills of Connemarra. We spent another 5 hours driving through country backroads, which took all day because I made Gerd stop to buy sweaters for my step-father and mother and we had to stop off for lunch. Of course, the first thing I did when we arrived back in Dublin was google my feminine trouble with very little information found.
I hate that about the internet. You can find out your breasts are sore because of PMS or because you're pregnant. You're bleeding heavily because of cysts or aging, or miscarraige. If you want to be pregnant or hope you're not pregnant you can find evidence about your body that supports either side of the coin. Fortunately I have an appointment already scheduled with my OB/GYN next week, but it's not exactly something she can post-diagnose.
On Monday I gave myself the day off. In taking the day off I noticed that I had a cold. I often get colds around my period, I think because my immune system is challanged enough at the time, so it's typical that I get a soar throat for a day or so. I'm sure Galway didn't exactly help. Of course I'm in Ireland, so I can't find Mucinex here, which is my typical standby, so Gerd buys me something I don't know how to pronounce that isn't supposed to make me drowsy.
In fact, I'm not drowsy, instead last night I found I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep, but I was dizzy and unfocused.
I woke up late today, around 10, and still a little groggy. I had planned on going into town today, and my throat feels tons better. But I can't get off the couch. I'm not hungry. I've searched for jobs in Boston, New Mexico, and Dublin today, for both myself and Gerd. I've looked at houses, and cars, and furniture. I even ventured into paint hues for a nursery, not that I need it right now. To make that even more clear I started bleeding again.
I really should go out and see the city. We leave tomorrow, thank goodness I want to be home. I just home I don't want to stick around that couch too.
True, I've been fighting off a cold. This weekend Gerd and I went over to Galway to see the Cliffs of Moher, and on the way I made him walk out to the coast with me, even though it was about a mile, freezing rain, and slippery rock the whole way. I was prefectly fine when we made it to the cliffs (they look like the edge of the world, by the way) but on the way to our hotel I started to feel horrible.
Now, I'll try not to get too graphic, but this is relevant. I started my period, as expected, except I was wondering if I was going to start it after all. I'd been on and off spotting for a week before Aund Flo was due, had midcycle bleeding before that. So things weren't all right in the normal scheme of things.
By the time Gerd got me home, driving 100 km/hr down narrow, winding, BUMPY roads I had cramps so bad they almost doubled me over. When we got home I took too asperin, took a very long hot shower, changed out the necessary "paperwork" and watched some Irish TV for an hour. It was time to join friends of his for a night on the town, and by then I was back in good form, or at least good enough form to enjoy some traditional Irish music at a local pub.
I should mention that I hadn't really been drinking up until now, primarily because I don't drink much, but also because I was a bit freaked out about the strange goings ons of my nether region. I didn't think I was pregnant, but not altogether sure I wasn't either, at least until my temperature dove and I started really bleeding. Anyway, so I thought that finally I could have a drink and feel secure that I wouldn't be spawning alcoholic children, but the taste made me nautious. I must have ordered 4 drinks, but taken no more than a sip or two of each one, then passing it off to Gerd (who became quite intoxicated).
So by the next morning I thought I knew the schpeel. I've had periods for ages, I know what to expect, but I didn't expect this. (Sorry, this is where it gets graphic) Massive, I mean massive blood clots the size of an orange. Bleeding that went through all barriers in 30 minutes. And then, 2 hours later, it stopped.
No more blood. No more period, and a day set to see the hills of Connemarra. We spent another 5 hours driving through country backroads, which took all day because I made Gerd stop to buy sweaters for my step-father and mother and we had to stop off for lunch. Of course, the first thing I did when we arrived back in Dublin was google my feminine trouble with very little information found.
I hate that about the internet. You can find out your breasts are sore because of PMS or because you're pregnant. You're bleeding heavily because of cysts or aging, or miscarraige. If you want to be pregnant or hope you're not pregnant you can find evidence about your body that supports either side of the coin. Fortunately I have an appointment already scheduled with my OB/GYN next week, but it's not exactly something she can post-diagnose.
On Monday I gave myself the day off. In taking the day off I noticed that I had a cold. I often get colds around my period, I think because my immune system is challanged enough at the time, so it's typical that I get a soar throat for a day or so. I'm sure Galway didn't exactly help. Of course I'm in Ireland, so I can't find Mucinex here, which is my typical standby, so Gerd buys me something I don't know how to pronounce that isn't supposed to make me drowsy.
In fact, I'm not drowsy, instead last night I found I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep, but I was dizzy and unfocused.
I woke up late today, around 10, and still a little groggy. I had planned on going into town today, and my throat feels tons better. But I can't get off the couch. I'm not hungry. I've searched for jobs in Boston, New Mexico, and Dublin today, for both myself and Gerd. I've looked at houses, and cars, and furniture. I even ventured into paint hues for a nursery, not that I need it right now. To make that even more clear I started bleeding again.
I really should go out and see the city. We leave tomorrow, thank goodness I want to be home. I just home I don't want to stick around that couch too.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Writing
Was I ever a good writer, or did I just like to write? Is there a difference?
One of my friends wrote to tell me she's now published. Now, I don't want to sound rude, or play down anybody's talent, but my opinion is that this girl just can't write. Is that caddy? I don't know. I feel that I should be supportive of all hopefuls, and yet I tend to believe some people just aren't meant to be authors.
My ex-fiance was one of them. He really, I mean really, wanted to give up work as a computer software engineer to write his novel. I found myself in a terrible position, because his writing was so terrible I knew he wouldn't get published without some serious editing. He tried to write science fiction like he would a technical manual, yet without the cleverness that might have made the whole thing work. But he was clever, just not on paper. Should I have encouraged him to follow the dream or told him to write in his spare time, pretending to believe in him. That's pretty much what I did, but I always felt I was a bit bland in my presentation of the subject. Perhaps I should have said that's the worst crap I've ever read, but that's certainly not the supportive role of a fiance.
In the end I was saved by the war. He went through all forms of introspection, counseling, etc. and gave up his career to become a veterinarian. I think that was a much better idea. He wasn't happy and he was looking for a way to be happy. I wasn't that way, and writing was just a big red herring.
Still, I haven't resolved the issue of support for the aspiring author. I used to believe that I was a pretty decent writer, but I'm a bit insecure about my own writing. I've never put the time or effort into creating something spectacular, but I've always believed that I could do better than most romance writers I've read. Not all, there are some talented people out there, but some. And yet whenever I let someone read anything I've written, I never believe it'll be good enough.
Perhaps that's why I'm suspicious of people who think their work is good. I don't know. I'd like to believe I'm completely supportive of those who have a talent for words, but maybe I'm too judgmental, of myself and of others. I know that's true in other areas of my life.
So I decided to look up the publishing company that is responsible for my friends happiness. Eloquent Books sounds a little odd to me, but of course I can't really find out more without having a book to send to them and review. Should I be happy for this friend who has found a company who will print her book, or sad that they may be a scam, playing on people who want to be published, but are repeatedly turned down. Here's a quote from her book:
"That day, after so many weird things had happened, this stranger told her she wasn’t like everyone else. Looking down at her fat body and kinky hair she thought, well, obviously. But then he said something that made her entire body tingle. ‘Darby you’re a fairy.’ Not just any fairy, but a very special fairy with more power then any fairy before her. " http://www.eloquentbooks.com/PurpleButterflies.html
Maybe the thing to do is to write. It may be complete crap, but if I'm going to criticize someone else's work, maybe I should see what I've got. Maybe I'm hard on others because I want to try. I know I have problems, I'm slowly loosing my higher level vocabulary, I can't remember the basics of grammar, and report writing for the Army has stolen my fluff and flowers. Now was that corny or good? I honestly don't know. But I guess I might as well try. If I find out I'm a terrible writer I won't be the first one to fail.
Can I write for my own benefit, even if I find that I'm an un-author? Why do I want to write? If I think I want to write because I have a talent for it, what happens when I find out I'm not as talented as I once thought? All questions that remain unresolved.
One of my friends wrote to tell me she's now published. Now, I don't want to sound rude, or play down anybody's talent, but my opinion is that this girl just can't write. Is that caddy? I don't know. I feel that I should be supportive of all hopefuls, and yet I tend to believe some people just aren't meant to be authors.
My ex-fiance was one of them. He really, I mean really, wanted to give up work as a computer software engineer to write his novel. I found myself in a terrible position, because his writing was so terrible I knew he wouldn't get published without some serious editing. He tried to write science fiction like he would a technical manual, yet without the cleverness that might have made the whole thing work. But he was clever, just not on paper. Should I have encouraged him to follow the dream or told him to write in his spare time, pretending to believe in him. That's pretty much what I did, but I always felt I was a bit bland in my presentation of the subject. Perhaps I should have said that's the worst crap I've ever read, but that's certainly not the supportive role of a fiance.
In the end I was saved by the war. He went through all forms of introspection, counseling, etc. and gave up his career to become a veterinarian. I think that was a much better idea. He wasn't happy and he was looking for a way to be happy. I wasn't that way, and writing was just a big red herring.
Still, I haven't resolved the issue of support for the aspiring author. I used to believe that I was a pretty decent writer, but I'm a bit insecure about my own writing. I've never put the time or effort into creating something spectacular, but I've always believed that I could do better than most romance writers I've read. Not all, there are some talented people out there, but some. And yet whenever I let someone read anything I've written, I never believe it'll be good enough.
Perhaps that's why I'm suspicious of people who think their work is good. I don't know. I'd like to believe I'm completely supportive of those who have a talent for words, but maybe I'm too judgmental, of myself and of others. I know that's true in other areas of my life.
So I decided to look up the publishing company that is responsible for my friends happiness. Eloquent Books sounds a little odd to me, but of course I can't really find out more without having a book to send to them and review. Should I be happy for this friend who has found a company who will print her book, or sad that they may be a scam, playing on people who want to be published, but are repeatedly turned down. Here's a quote from her book:
"That day, after so many weird things had happened, this stranger told her she wasn’t like everyone else. Looking down at her fat body and kinky hair she thought, well, obviously. But then he said something that made her entire body tingle. ‘Darby you’re a fairy.’ Not just any fairy, but a very special fairy with more power then any fairy before her. " http://www.eloquentbooks.com/PurpleButterflies.html
Maybe the thing to do is to write. It may be complete crap, but if I'm going to criticize someone else's work, maybe I should see what I've got. Maybe I'm hard on others because I want to try. I know I have problems, I'm slowly loosing my higher level vocabulary, I can't remember the basics of grammar, and report writing for the Army has stolen my fluff and flowers. Now was that corny or good? I honestly don't know. But I guess I might as well try. If I find out I'm a terrible writer I won't be the first one to fail.
Can I write for my own benefit, even if I find that I'm an un-author? Why do I want to write? If I think I want to write because I have a talent for it, what happens when I find out I'm not as talented as I once thought? All questions that remain unresolved.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year!
I haven't written in so long, my fingers feel a little bit rusty. Writing requires more thought than it used to.
Normally I would have written hundreds of e-mails by now, but somehow the e-mails never came, even though I've been in 9 different cities in 3 different countries in the past two weeks. I still have two weeks to go.
So, the short version is such:
Dublin was designed to be a mock trial. Can I live there or not? Do Gerd and I get more serious, or do I decide it's to far, too rainy, and too different? I suppose I passed, but only with a C. It is rainy, far, and different. While I had a good time with Gerd's friends, hanging out in pubs, it's not something I'd want every day of the week. Gerd assures me he'd go maybe once a week to meet up with friends, but ordinary life isn't much different than in the US. It's rainy, but I can handle that I suppose, Boston at least prepared me for bad weather. And far away? Yes, but the flights are about the same duration as they would be to New Mexico. I really wanted to live near my mother, but something tells me a little distance wouldn't be bad for either of us. No, the only remaining argument is over work hours, with my concern remaining that Gerd won't come home until 8, which will not work for me. He says he'll be better than that, but can't guarantee me anything earlier than 7, possibly 6:30, which frankly is just too late if we have a family, which is what I want. Oh, and JOBS. I might be able to work, but probably not in elementary, middle, or high schools. Only with students trying to gain credits to go to college. While I'm not entirely sure about this, I'm willing to try it, for a while. I wanted to stay home with children, but have I mentioned Dublin is expensive? Yes, very expensive. Like one of the top ten most expensive cities in the world. New York City and San Francisco didn't even make the list. It's that expensive.
Which brings us to Droghada. That's a smaller city (about 30,000) an hour north of Dublin by train. I had hoped it would only be 45 mintues, because that's what I consider to be a realistic cut-off time for commutes. Sure, we all wish we lived 5-10 minutes from work, which is why houses are more expensive the closer they get to commercial centers. Droghada would mean I could live in a smaller city yet Gerd could work in the city...which he was addimately opposed to. Too long a commute, doesn't want to live somewhere small, etc. I brough up Wicklow, 45 minutes south of the city, same sort of set-up. Still, he doesn't want a small village. I do. Plus, if Gerd plans to bring work home, at least he could be doing it on the train both ways, therefore avoiding time at home on the computer. Obviously this is still a point of contention.
Newgrange. Monolithic tomb one day before solstice. Not much to be said, other than, cool. An ancient mound with a rock tunnel and monolitic art. This requires a more detailed description, but I'm trying for the short version.
We left for Frankfurt, where we were going to meet up with friends from Boston for the morning, have breakfast, and see the blind museam. They have a museam devoted to helping the seeing "view" blindness, and I was really looking forward to it. We didn't have the time, however, if we wanted to catch the first train to Dresden, and the second train got in at something like 1am.
Dresden was the surprise of the trip. While our accomodations (Gerd's brother's bachleor pad) were sparce, Dresden was suprisingly well put together. I thought the whole thing burned down so there wouldn't be anything to see. Not so. Somehow we missed the museams by the river Elbe, and the Germans spend 10 years reconstructing the Frauen Kirke in the center of the city. They develeloped a software program that calculated where the original bricks landed after the explosion and found many of the original pieces of the building. Now the church is both black, speckled with the newer white material.
Chemnitz was mostly spend indoors in a 650 square foot apartment with 5 people and one bathroom. Gerd had a wonderful time visiting with his family, I was glad to get to know them, but ready to go a few days before we left for Basel. I was so ready to leave that, when we had a choice of leaving in 15 minutes or the following morning I was packed in about 5 minutes. Oh, but a Chemnitz highlight is a 50 foot high (I'm guessing here, and I'm really not good with distances) BIG statue of the head of Karl Marx. Chemnitz was once known as Karlmarxstadt.
Gerd liked Basel so much he's going to start looking for jobs in the area. That rather surprized me because he wasn't really keen on Switzerland until we got there. They have more holidays than the rest of Europe though, so I think that sold him on the idea. Originally it sounded like a great plan. I was probably drunk on hot chocholate at the time though. Honestly, I wouldn't mind Basel for a while. It's central, it's beautiful, it's got several nice ways to commute around the town, and it's in the region I love. After a few days though I got a little more concerned how far it is from family (more like an 8 hour flight, and much more expensive than Dublin) and my limited German (not to mention that the Swiss don't speak German, they speak SwitzerDuetch which is a dialect unto itself).
Bad Saeckingen went exceedingly well. We took a day trip from Basel so I could drop in on my German host family. I wasn't sure how it would go, since we had a bit of a falling out near the end of my year as an au pair, but they were genuinely glad to see me. They were selling their furniture store, so I lucked out finding them before they moved. All in all, a healing experience.
Freiburg didn't go so well, however. I've always loved Freiburg, but it was too cold to enjoy it while we were there. The bachle weren't running, nor were the fountains, and the students were home for the holidays. Gerd didn't really get a chance to see what I loved about it, and we left early because everything was going to close for Sylvester. Someday, when it's warm outside, I'm going to drag Gerd back so he can see it all again.
Now I'm in Ulm, and just spent New Years (Sylvester as they call it here) with friends of Gerd from his university. Much computer mumbo jumbo, but mostly just drinking and laughing. I got to play a wii for the first time. Aparently I'm horrible at tennis, but pretty good at bowling. Dinner was gourmet qualifty, with the menu written on leaves. I escaped to our guest room as soon as the fireworks began and Gerd came in and played guitar for me. It was a nice night really, and I'm not really ready for the day to begin.
Well, there's more to write, but already this short version is very long, and now everyone is starting to stir (including the host's 3 month old).
Normally I would have written hundreds of e-mails by now, but somehow the e-mails never came, even though I've been in 9 different cities in 3 different countries in the past two weeks. I still have two weeks to go.
So, the short version is such:
Dublin was designed to be a mock trial. Can I live there or not? Do Gerd and I get more serious, or do I decide it's to far, too rainy, and too different? I suppose I passed, but only with a C. It is rainy, far, and different. While I had a good time with Gerd's friends, hanging out in pubs, it's not something I'd want every day of the week. Gerd assures me he'd go maybe once a week to meet up with friends, but ordinary life isn't much different than in the US. It's rainy, but I can handle that I suppose, Boston at least prepared me for bad weather. And far away? Yes, but the flights are about the same duration as they would be to New Mexico. I really wanted to live near my mother, but something tells me a little distance wouldn't be bad for either of us. No, the only remaining argument is over work hours, with my concern remaining that Gerd won't come home until 8, which will not work for me. He says he'll be better than that, but can't guarantee me anything earlier than 7, possibly 6:30, which frankly is just too late if we have a family, which is what I want. Oh, and JOBS. I might be able to work, but probably not in elementary, middle, or high schools. Only with students trying to gain credits to go to college. While I'm not entirely sure about this, I'm willing to try it, for a while. I wanted to stay home with children, but have I mentioned Dublin is expensive? Yes, very expensive. Like one of the top ten most expensive cities in the world. New York City and San Francisco didn't even make the list. It's that expensive.
Which brings us to Droghada. That's a smaller city (about 30,000) an hour north of Dublin by train. I had hoped it would only be 45 mintues, because that's what I consider to be a realistic cut-off time for commutes. Sure, we all wish we lived 5-10 minutes from work, which is why houses are more expensive the closer they get to commercial centers. Droghada would mean I could live in a smaller city yet Gerd could work in the city...which he was addimately opposed to. Too long a commute, doesn't want to live somewhere small, etc. I brough up Wicklow, 45 minutes south of the city, same sort of set-up. Still, he doesn't want a small village. I do. Plus, if Gerd plans to bring work home, at least he could be doing it on the train both ways, therefore avoiding time at home on the computer. Obviously this is still a point of contention.
Newgrange. Monolithic tomb one day before solstice. Not much to be said, other than, cool. An ancient mound with a rock tunnel and monolitic art. This requires a more detailed description, but I'm trying for the short version.
We left for Frankfurt, where we were going to meet up with friends from Boston for the morning, have breakfast, and see the blind museam. They have a museam devoted to helping the seeing "view" blindness, and I was really looking forward to it. We didn't have the time, however, if we wanted to catch the first train to Dresden, and the second train got in at something like 1am.
Dresden was the surprise of the trip. While our accomodations (Gerd's brother's bachleor pad) were sparce, Dresden was suprisingly well put together. I thought the whole thing burned down so there wouldn't be anything to see. Not so. Somehow we missed the museams by the river Elbe, and the Germans spend 10 years reconstructing the Frauen Kirke in the center of the city. They develeloped a software program that calculated where the original bricks landed after the explosion and found many of the original pieces of the building. Now the church is both black, speckled with the newer white material.
Chemnitz was mostly spend indoors in a 650 square foot apartment with 5 people and one bathroom. Gerd had a wonderful time visiting with his family, I was glad to get to know them, but ready to go a few days before we left for Basel. I was so ready to leave that, when we had a choice of leaving in 15 minutes or the following morning I was packed in about 5 minutes. Oh, but a Chemnitz highlight is a 50 foot high (I'm guessing here, and I'm really not good with distances) BIG statue of the head of Karl Marx. Chemnitz was once known as Karlmarxstadt.
Gerd liked Basel so much he's going to start looking for jobs in the area. That rather surprized me because he wasn't really keen on Switzerland until we got there. They have more holidays than the rest of Europe though, so I think that sold him on the idea. Originally it sounded like a great plan. I was probably drunk on hot chocholate at the time though. Honestly, I wouldn't mind Basel for a while. It's central, it's beautiful, it's got several nice ways to commute around the town, and it's in the region I love. After a few days though I got a little more concerned how far it is from family (more like an 8 hour flight, and much more expensive than Dublin) and my limited German (not to mention that the Swiss don't speak German, they speak SwitzerDuetch which is a dialect unto itself).
Bad Saeckingen went exceedingly well. We took a day trip from Basel so I could drop in on my German host family. I wasn't sure how it would go, since we had a bit of a falling out near the end of my year as an au pair, but they were genuinely glad to see me. They were selling their furniture store, so I lucked out finding them before they moved. All in all, a healing experience.
Freiburg didn't go so well, however. I've always loved Freiburg, but it was too cold to enjoy it while we were there. The bachle weren't running, nor were the fountains, and the students were home for the holidays. Gerd didn't really get a chance to see what I loved about it, and we left early because everything was going to close for Sylvester. Someday, when it's warm outside, I'm going to drag Gerd back so he can see it all again.
Now I'm in Ulm, and just spent New Years (Sylvester as they call it here) with friends of Gerd from his university. Much computer mumbo jumbo, but mostly just drinking and laughing. I got to play a wii for the first time. Aparently I'm horrible at tennis, but pretty good at bowling. Dinner was gourmet qualifty, with the menu written on leaves. I escaped to our guest room as soon as the fireworks began and Gerd came in and played guitar for me. It was a nice night really, and I'm not really ready for the day to begin.
Well, there's more to write, but already this short version is very long, and now everyone is starting to stir (including the host's 3 month old).
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