Halloween Oracle and Plans

This the new attraction at Scarywood this year and Hannah and I are excited to check it out!

This October Hannah and I will celebrate our 1st anniversary as a married couple. It will be our 11th year as a couple. I have to figure out some sort of anniversary gift for my human and I'm a sucker for old traditions so I'm contemplating a 'paper' gift as that is the customary symbol/gift of the first year of marriage. Our friends are giving us a lovely gift of taking us to Silverwood Theme Park's Scarywood on the actual day of the anniversary, the thirteenth. Leading up to that I have three days off from work and I think Hannah has some fun themed things planned. We're broke at the moment so our fun will have to be free or cheap until the payday on the twelfth (and that is the first time I think I've ever  written out the word for 12th and holy crap it looks weird!). So I'm looking forward to having some Hannah time and seeing what sorts of mischief we can get into. Now for the daily Halloween Oracle draw.

To bloom and blossom, the work must be done.
Through fire and ashes, our fortune it comes.

Wednesday the 3rd I drew the Skull of Flowers again. This is after extensive shuffling and cutting. So obviously there's a lesson or an energy that I need to be aware of. I'm going to write the full card meaning in here so that my fingers and brain can ponder what this card really means for me. 

Before flowers are born, they are sweet buds on a plant that came from a smaller form like a seed or a bulb. The seed needs prepared, nourishing soil to grow to its potential. Some plants and trees only seed after fire or a period extreme adversity like drought or flood. 

Sometimes we wish for a life different from the one we have and that can mean radical change. Sometimes to have that new life, everything falls apart to make it so - and that can be uncomfortable. We may lose our relationships or they may change. We might lose a job, have to move house or become ill - all big events that lead to a reassessment of the 'how' of our lives. 

The Skull of Flowers illustrates that there is a sureness and yet a rawness to creating again, to starting afresh. Sometimes the universe gives us a blank slate to work from, so we can build what we really want, rather than just settling for less. The Skull of Flowers celebrates not just a kind of phoenix energy but an energy of success and full bloom through adversity. 

So essentially I really need to eat shit before I can have my cake. Fair enough. It stands to reason that wading through muck will eventually get you to dry land and your legs, though tired, will be stronger for it. So I suppose this card is telling me to hang in there in a way. This time of year is very difficult for me as the darkness hyper charges my depression something fierce. Maybe that's why this card has shown up twice: to tell me that I'll get through to the other side and that I'll come out stronger and better for my journey. 

The stones they mark, The eternal resting place
Yet the spirits they are walking, and they are ready for the chase!

Thursday the 4th I drew the Graveyard card. This card delves into unnecessary fears. This is particularly appropriate for me as this time of year crushes my confidence and fills me with a plethora of fearful thoughts and hypothetical ends. I tend to constantly worry that my loved ones are going to die or that I'm going to die, or that I'm going to get into trouble at work, and I imagine random acts of violence befalling my family or property. I do need to 'chill the fuck out' and relax. Just because the days are shorter doesn't mean I need to fear the unknown. So far my home has been very safe and comfortable. The people I know and love are safe and sound. I need to stop letting bad thoughts in and I especially need to stop letting bad thoughts out.

Goodbye Hugh and Erica

Things were weird in June. Some pretty big things happened, not happy things though. First off, Hannah had a horrible gallbladder attack. I've never seen her eyes roll back in her head like that before - it was actually pretty scary. So the family ushered her out the door and to the ER we went. This, in and of itself, was pretty upsetting for the Hannah, but shortly after that her grandfather, Hugh, went downhill. He passed on Monday June 25th. Her grandmother bought plane tickets for Hannah and I to come down for the funeral on that Friday. It all happened so fast! 

The funeral was kind of amazing, filled with 1930's charm and home-cooking. Everyone was beautifully polite and gentle and supportive. At the grave site Hannah felt her grandfather's presence. A bugler played taps. A very handsome and somber member of the US Military knelt before Hannah's grandmother and presented her with the flag as a sign of respect to the years grandpa had served. It was all so beautiful and perfect. And sad. Click here to see the obituary.

While we were still in Kansas, my best friend from college called me to let me know something awful. Something that is still hitting me in a hard, weird way. Friend Erica passed away. I graduated from Mesa State College with Erica. I helped her flunk statistics because I always managed to seduce her to come with me to Johnny Carino's for Happy Hour Bellinis instead of attending class. I was in a one-act play with her where we got into a crazy food fight and had ketchup in our ears for days after the show. We used to take naps together between studies and play rehearsals and she used my boobs as pillows.

I went to Germany twice with her. At Camp Lachenwald, her camp counselor name was Eeek. Three 'e's. My name was Quetzal. I remember one time she called me to her tent in the middle of the night for spider relocation (so many spiders!) and I was Quetzal the Hero. And there was another time when we were both so homesick we slept together on a cot at camp. A small cot. But we made it work and neither of us fell off. One of my favorite memories of Germany: the first night we arrived there I drank the hotel bar dry of Gin and then Erica and I skinny dipped in the Main river with a Marine named Wu. The next day he sang to us, "I wish they all could be Colorado girls."

She was a sweet, sassy, crazy woman who liked things like Modest Mouse, Dashboard Confessional, luscious lipsticks, and shoes. Never did I know anyone who had quite so many shoes. But the things I think about with Erica are the little conversations we had. We said 'I know friends drift and I don't want us to drift apart' and we swore up and down we wouldn't. But we did. We drifted for a while until my college bff said I should add Erica to my super secret Facebook that only has (right at this moment) 21 friends. So I sent the invite and Erica accepted immediately. That was on June 12th. Eighteen days later my friend calls to tell me she's gone.

Nothing I could write here will really do her justice. She was surprising and wonderful and I have so many amazing memories because of her. I found her obituary online. It's too simple in my opinion. Erica's obituary should be like a Music Video from the early 90's. Fashionable girl in amazing shoes follows David Bowie into a painting and proceeds to dance through a variety of artistic renaissances until she ends up drunk on Bellinis and napping on my boobs again. 

Animal Totem Talk

In recent conversation with a friend, the topic of Animal Totems came up. I was reminded a long time ago of a side conversation with someone in the past when I mentioned that I don't eat Octopuses or Squid anymore because I've recognized them as deities/totems for me. The person was shocked that I wouldn't "eat my totem" and I suppose, given the act of transubstantiation in Catholicism whereby they eat the body and blood of Christ every Sunday, that the eating of a totem might make sense. Well, I don't have to worry about eating any animal totems now since I'm no longer eating meat but I am actually very down with a little transubstantiation of my own. 

I believe in the power of symbolism (more so than the protestants who claim the break and wine to be just symbols). If I wanted to partake of my totems, whatever animals they may be, I would symbolically ingest and, therefore, truly ingest the archetypal essence of the creature into my being. For Hannah, who has a fox totem, we could eat fox shaped cookies or make an alcoholic beverage to honor the Arctic Fox or the Bat-Eared Fox. You get the gist. I don't need to put the actual matter of the totems flesh into my body to incorporate it's nutritional (spiritual) value. 

Moving on. I don't know for sure that the Octopus is my official totem as I am sometimes more in awe of it than I am relating to it on a spiritual and characteristic level (or I could be wrong - who knows!) but I know that in light of the conversation with had with our friend the other day a few fun things have happened reinforcing Hannah's totem and opening me up to, if not a totem, an animal spirit guide who has some valuable lessons to teach me. 

Animal Speak

Here's what happened: Hannah and I were telling Rachel about the Animal Speak book that had been the basis of the initial conversation and the Magical Menagerie deck fell from its shelf to the floor. We all turned to look when it dropped all we could made out was something falling - we didn't know what had caused the plunk. Later that night I discovered that it was the Animal oracle and I went, "Hmmmm," and told Hannah we needed to draw a card that night! Well we completely forgot. We are quit often  enormous dinguses (dingii?). We drew a card each the next night. These puppies had been shuffled too. So shuffled. Hannah had shuffled them the first night when they fell and then I shuffled them again. Well I drew first and got Griffin/Gryphon. Hannah drew second and *boom* she drew fox. We are going to make a small Inari shrine in the house at some point as fox has been a huge animal in Hannah's life (and, through being with Hannah, in my life as well).

So Hannah's draw made ridiculously perfect sense. Mine was a little weirder. I didn't think the Griffin was very fitting. At first. I took an online, for fun, Spirit Animal test and got Eagle. I didn't put much stock in the test, but I kept it in the back of my mind because why not? And then I started to hunker down and really think about what the Griffin meant. I am fond of Griffins and since that day I've been seeing them, or reminders of them, everywhere. In fact, that other day I saw a large pink heraldic griffin splayed across the bottom of an extra large license plate. How random? Or not. I found many pictures of griffins with the heads of Bald Eagles and felt that was a neat tie in to the previous test I'd taken. Also I found numerous sites offering pretty similar information: the Griffin is a cross between the King of Land (lion) and the King of Sky (eagle) and is known to symbolize a spiritual quest. That the Griffin is a guardian and a guide, usually as you journey a new spiritual path, or go through a particularly challenging trial. 

So I've been paying attention. I do feel that I need some guidance right now. There have been a lot of changes in my life, and new challenges. My sibling (whom I've been somewhat estranged with) is sick and dying; I'm less than two months out from getting married; my computer is broken and is going to the manufacturer for repairs; we lost a full time employee at work and are going to lose another on the 28th of this month; the house is in a perpetual state of mess; my car may or may not be road worthy enough to go to Seattle; I don't want to keep living at Valley 206 now that they are becoming a tax credit community and will have A) the authority to get rid of us at any time due to how much money I make and B) full access to my bank account information and C) they will be making us sign a year long lease in the next few months after we've been on month-to-month for almost a full year already. And it's getting darker sooner now. I can already feel my brain and body reacting to the waning summer. I'm bracing for the shit emotional time ahead but it's hard to see how everything is going to turn out at this point. And maybe that's why a Griffin jumped off the shelf for me the other night.

A while back I did a written role-play with a friend wherein our two protagonists, a married gay couple, were dealing with ghost possession as well as ancestral bloodline awakenings. It was pretty cool role-play concept and, who knows, we might revisit in the future. We both want to write novels and short stories and it could be fun to turn some of our RPs into novellas or novels. Anyway, my character in the RP (the one dealing with an awakening of his bloodline) was a Chamrosh (which is essentially what you see in the above pic). A chamrosh is a griffin with a wolf's body instead of a lion's. It is the lesser known Persian winged guardian and I spent a lot of time for that RP delving into what a griffin/chamrosh meant and what function one might serve in a story. So when griffin showed up the other night I felt a fun pang of familiarity.

Speaking of RPs, Hannah and I are finally writing one again. Just for fun and also to whet our writing chops again. I've already shared some of the beginning story that spurred her to say 'hey, let's write this out together!' It's been kind of fun to delve into these characters. Neither of them comes from what I would call a horribly tragic past or abusive situation. Both have had shitty moments as well as comfort. It's been fun throwing challenges their way, but mostly they are just a cutesy-nervous couple full of unnecessary, self-depreciating worries and woes. Kind of like most people.

In other news, I recently discovered Leo Moracchioli on Youtube. I will be purchasing a few of these fantastic covers. So far my favorites are Adele's Hello and Frozen's Let it Go. I leave you with a song for now. This started as such a focused blog post (started it a few days ago) and then more and more and more just kept happening. so here we are. Please enjoy Leo's cover.

Pendulum of Self Doubt and Malaise and my OTPs

Fanart of Craig and Tweek from South Park.

I'm very much in rollercoaster mode these last few weeks. While I'm doing better with longer days and more sun, I'm still riding a pendulum that moves from "I can do this, I can accomplish all the things," to "who am I kidding?" at a rate that makes my head spin. Worse is that I think my body is reacting to my mental state in a very real way. For instance, I had huge and glorious plans for Beltane yet I ended up sleeping about 17 hours off and on from the time I got home from work on Sunday until Monday evening. I whimpered and fussed and cried a little. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I had a similar experience last night. 

One and Shell from Blood Bank.

I got home and unveiled all these plans to Hannah--plans to finally make the Bowie room into something useful for guests and for us, plans to get some writing done, plans to wage war with the squirrels in the back yard who have decided to attack my plants this year--and in the end all I could do was weep and whine and curl up in bed. I slept my 8+ hours last night and then crawled out into the living room for two more rounds of sleep. It's late in the afternoon now and I fear if I closed my eyes for even a second I would pass out all over again. I can't seem to wake up. I can't seem to make things happen. I did manage to write a small 5 page scene the other day for a friend. That is the first finished piece of writing I've accomplished since graduating from Solstice. It was a triumph and yet it reminds me of how far I've fallen in this respect. 

Craig and Tweek again.

Full time employment makes it very difficult for me. I know that's just a huge excuse. I know that there are lots of creative people who still make time to hone and perfect their craft while holding down a 9-5. I admire those people and wish I could be one of them but the truth is... there isn't enough of me right now. I give so much at work. I try not to over exert myself, I try not to let out all of my good energy while there, but more often than not that's what I seem to be doing. Leaving only my negative side for home. Leaving only my doubts and darkness. 

One and Shell again.

It doesn't always feel like that but lately I can't seem to shake it. I'm going to try to mess with the Bowie room today. But even just now, while writing this, I closed my eyes and ended up nodding off in a trance and typing a hundred or so w's.  I just want to wake up. Even when I'm at work I fight to keep alert. I think if I could open my eyes I could do amazing things. Why am I so tired? 

One of my absolute favorite fanarts of Craig and Tweek. If you know anything about the show,
you'll notice that they've switched idiosyncrasies in this picture. Love it. 

On a different note, I wanted to share and promote the Blood Bank Webcomic by Silb. It is absolutely amazing and it is a constant source of happy place for me. I don't know when or if a printed edition will be coming out but I'll put aside money and buy the shit out of it. Such a great fresh look at vampires and BDSM. 

Shell and One from Blood Bank. I can't stress enough how excellent the art and writing are.

The other source of silly happiness for me has, of course, been Craig and Tweek from South Park. I've recently binged on more South Park than you can shake a stick at (even a large stick!) and I am rather in love with Creek (the fandom name for shipping Craig and Tweek.) It's silly. But I don't care. It makes me happy. Also as fill this blog with pics of my two OTP couples, I notice that I do sort of favor the black-haired-blue-eyed seme with the blond-haired-green-eyed uke. Interesting.

 

Another great fanart of Tweek and Craig.

The Surgery (not as glorious as 'Repo: The Genetic Opera' would lead you to believe)

So I haven't posted in a long time. About three months actually. Things have been difficult for me emotionally. Hannah and I have been fighting to get her a hysterectomy for a long time and the beginning of this year things finally started happening. She's written about much of the experience over on her blog and she's done a great job chronicling the stress and pain she's gone through. And now I want to express a little of what I've gone through as well. 

It is not easy to see your loved one suffer or be jerked around and treated poorly by those in the medical field. Hannah's suffered extreme vaginal bleeding for 8 out of the 9 years we've been together and as a result has been anemic as fuck. For those out there suffering from anemia, I'm so sorry, because it is shitty. It's more than just feeling fatigued. It is a condition that can permanently harm the sufferer if not controlled. In some cases, anemia (low hemoglobin) can lead to heart attacks and death. It's no joke. But for many, many years doctors looked at Hannah and said, "take iron," and sent her on her way. Well iron helps a little but no amount of iron is going to help when you're bleeding through 10 plus feminine pads every fucking day. This became the norm. I started to just accept that this was how it would be forever. But then at the very end of 2016 we learned that it didn't have to be this way. We got in to see a gynecologist and hysterectomy was suddenly on the table. 

For all those years we the frogs sitting in a pot of slowly warming water. But starting in January we finally saw the bubbles of boiling water and panic set in.

Things got worse. Suddenly and terrifyingly. Hormones, hemorrhaging, a trip to the ER, blood draw after blood draw, biopsies, pre-cancerous cells, an irregular EKG, so many doctors, so many ups and downs, a trip the Cancer Center and finally a date for the surgery, February 22nd. But then that date got pushed back. So then March 1st was to be the day. And February 22nd to March 1st was the longest week of my life. I cried every day, had panic attacks, felt a sort of premature loneliness creep over me as if I was preparing for Hannah to die. This was supposed to be just a run of the mill hysterectomy but all of the things around it (the alarmist verbage, the 5 wishes of a dying patient document which I had to sign, the mention that Hannah's weight made this a 'risky' operation) made me feel like Hannah was going to go to sleep and never wake up again.

But she did wake up again.

We arrived at the hospital at about 5:30am. During her pre-op I was allowed to sit with her. She was so nervous. So was I. We chitchatted a little and I told her everything was going to be alright. She wore a bind rune and a drawing of the four elements on her back and I no for a fact that these things worked their magic on both of us. I did cry a little with her in pre-op but mostly I was a silly, fun, strong fiance. The doctor came in and told us that she was going to make five incisions and sent in her robots to do the deed. Well, after she left, I told Hannah that essentially she was going to have Voltron inside of her, which meant that her uterus was Zarkon, which suddenly made surgery kind of epic and perhaps a smidgen less terrifying. She was prepped and taken in for surgery around 7:30 and by 9:30 the doctor herself came out to tell me that Hannah had done well and was in the recovery room. She said that they'd let me go and see her after a little while and that Hannah would be coming home that day. It was surreal. Just like that the surgery was over. It was as surreal as when you wake up in a different country for the first time and really realize where you are. 

There was a moment in post-op recovery that I broke down a little. I was leaning over Hannah, holding up her cup of water so she could drink from the straw. I saw a little crust at the corner of her eye like the salt left from an involuntary tear. I remembered the line in the '5 wishes' thing about "I wish for a warm wash cloth for my face" as a comfort requested by someone near death. Even writing about right now makes me cry a little. Such a small request with such a huge implication. And I just looked at her and imagined how this all could have ended up differently and how thankful I was to the gods that she was just groggy and thirsty and not fading away forever. She saw my crying and playfully, sleepily said, "you really are a wimp." Guilty a mother-fucking charged. I own it. I'm a wimp and I'm really, really happy that the surgery is over and we can start looking toward a future free from the daily worry, emotional and physical pain, and intense fatigue.

She's lying on the couch right now, struggling between medicinally induced sleep and the desire to stay awake and cuddle with me. In about four hours I'll wake her so she can take another pill. So far, aside from some pretty bad aching and a touch of nausea, she's actually doing amazing. I am still afraid to leave her alone. I've seen her shift from doing perfectly fine to sobbing in the bathroom within seconds, so I still want to have someone at home with her while I'm away during this next week for work. But on the whole she's just fantastic. 

And on the subject of fantastic, our friends and support network have been absolutely stunning in their kindness and consideration. I can't even begin to write or verbalize my thankfulness. I am touched beyond words and I know that had it not been for our friends and family, I would be completely lost right now. Thank you to the many who have made Hannah and I feel so very special and loved. 

"I'm engaged to a Serial Killer" or "Cleaning Day with Amanda"

When I was in high school we had yearly student planners and while I did use them as planners I also used them as diaries/doodle pads/swear word generators/incriminating evidence lockers. By this I mean I filled my student planners with things that expressed my really exacerbated teenage angst. To add to the gore (both written and drawn) I was going through a marvelous serial killer phase at the time. My choice books were the A-Z serial killer reference books as well as detailed accounts of Jeffrey Dahmer and John Wayne Gacy. So of course my quotes and doodles were almost always grotesque. 

Tonight, while cleaning out the Bowie room (our library/spare bedroom) I decided it was time to get rid of these old student planners that I've been carting around with me all this time. But first I needed to flip through them to see who I was and reflect on who I've become. With Hannah beside me I thumbed through my high school year. All the calendar days were marked off so violently that the exes and scribbles left indents in about five of the following pages. At the beginning of each mother there was a doodle depicting something being eaten, vivisected, or exuding some sort of mucous. I drew guillotines and warped mermaid-centaurs, I wrote sonnets of nothing but four letter words worthy of a Quentin Tarantino film, I stuck several pages together with gum chewed by my classmates, and used red pen to make almost everything bleed.

As I went through these planners, marveling and giggling at how "fucked up" I was, Hannah's expression turned from concern to actual unease. She looked a bit shaken. "You're a fucking serial killer," she said and I assured her I wasn't. I told that these journals were from a time when I was dealing with teenage drama and suffering from a lack of proper medication. "But look how far I've come from that time," I told her. "Not that far," was her response. In my desperation to prove to her that I wasn't really that bad back then, I picked up a notebook from late high school/early college and scanned the fading pencil marks. "Hmm, let's see," I said and then, "Oh! That's right, these are the notes for my serial killer screenplay." At this point Hannah fled the room. 

I cornered her in the bedroom. "Hannah, you're still going to marry me though, right?" Because that's not a creepy thing to say to a woman who thinks you're a psychopath. "Amanda," she said, "I'm not sure I even want to sleep in the same bed as you!" Me: "But I swear I've never killed anyone!" Hannah: "Yet!" The moral of this story, wait the full ten years before you show your mate how truly fucked up you are; nine years is still too soon. 

I'm happy report we're sleeping in the same bed. The old student planners are gone now (or at least in the trash waiting removal) but I figure the trauma they've caused will last for a long time. Chaos, panic, and suspicion that one's mate might be a serial killer.... my work here is done. Excuse me as I giggle myself to sleep.   

Today is... Sundancing Day

For August Break the prompt was 'Today is....' and so to sum up today I have a picture of Narcisa with her mouse laser light toy nestled in her fur. She's played with it a lot today and is at the "I just don't have any more fucks to give" state. I reckon that's where I'm at too. 

Work is interesting at the moment. I hope tomorrow goes a bit more smoothly. It's barely Monday and I'm ready for Thursday again (which is my Friday). Right now Hannah and I are working on getting the house all organized for some serious writing but that is taking time and a lot more energy than I seem to have lately, 

For the tarot draw today I used an oracle called: Wisdom of the Hidden Realms.This is a deck our friend Fiona gave us recently. I drew the Sun Dancers card some of the tenets of this card are as follows: Expect the best and praise it in advance. Stay positive and leave the timing up to the Divine. All things are possible now. 

I agree with the card's advice and it's good to remind myself right now of staying positive. I'm having a weird emotional roller coaster at the moment and doubting almost everything. So many of the things I'd planned for this weekend, for today... just nothing. But tomorrow's a new day and I get to work on my goals again with improved attitude and determination. I shall find some fucks to give!

Silverwood, Sherman Alexie, Impromtu Idaho

Two weekends ago the twins came up from Moscow and we had a really great time. I didn't get to do anything for them on their birthday in March so instead, we all went to Silverwood with my mom and we spent the day looking at all the cute little shops, riding many of the rides (Corkscrew, Timber Terror, Tremors, Panic Plunge, Tilt-a-Whirl, Roundup, and the wave pool of Boulder Beach Bay), and relaxing. We enjoyed tea and coffee at the Victorian Coffee House and while sitting outside under a tree, were blessed with a view of hundreds upon hundreds of bumble bees buzzing around the blooms of the tree. It was a nice scene. Lots of walking (over five miles!). Lots of people playing Pokemon Go. 

When we got back to my place, Hannah was cooking us a nice meal. The twins and I decided to run to the hot tub and soak for a bit since we were sun burnt and sore. While there I took off my engagement ring and the ring of Hannah's that I'd been wearing for the past ten or so months. I set them beside the hot tub and forgot them when we all left a bit later. I remembered pretty quickly that I'd left them and rushed no more than twenty minutes later but the rings were already gone. I'm trying to get my apartment managers to watch the footage and help me track down my rings but I don't really think they give a shit. Meh. I'm angry at myself for losing the rings and trying to make it a lesson against materialism. Except... it was one of Hannah's rings that I lost too. And that one is the one I'm really sad about losing. 

That week at work, a few things happened. Firstly, we finished moving our department from the lobby level to the third level. It's going to take some time to adjust I think, but so far I like it. Not sure what the future holds for me right  now, but I'm going to just embrace impermanence and live in the now. Right now I have A, B, and C. I won't worry D until D comes to pass. Nothing lasts forever and all we really truly have are the moments happening this instant. 

And speaking of nothing lasting forever, on Thursday, my supervisor's father passed away. I guess technically he entered a vegetative state. I'll know more about all of that later but for now, my heart really goes out to my supervisor. She is a very sweet person and a total daddy's girl. I cried for her the night after I heard about what she's going through. That same day, another coworker learned that her mother's cancer had come back. So it was not a good day for a lot of us. I was in a funk. That night I went to Stitch and Witch feeling distant and weird and it made Hannah really upset that I was so out of it. Once I got in there though and did some shitty coloring (and oh man was it shitty!) I felt a bit better. Also I got to see my favorite Free Mason there and he did a neat Tarot Name reading for me. I love hearing him talk about the Tarot and love his kind, soft energy. I'm really glad he came to Stitch and Witch and I hope he keeps coming. 

On Friday, as I walked to work from the Plaza stop, I saw a sign outside the Bing Crosby theatre announcing that Sherman Alexie would be reading there that night. So instantly, my Friday night plans were made. I had Hannah meet me downtown after work. We grabbed a quick shitty meal at McDonald's and then saddled up for the show/reading. It was exactly what I needed. Brought back all the good memories of the MFA program and restored in me some of my old passion for the written word. I've been very depressed and lackluster about writing lately but seeing Sherman, listening to him, watching him move and engage the crowd. Getting his signature. It was a great evening. That night I slept pretty well. Satisfied after spending the evening with Sherman Alexie. And it was good that I slept well because I was wearing an oxygen tester on my index finger. It's the first step to finding out if part of my overall health and attention issues are due to sleep apnea. I don't want to have sleep apnea, but if I do have it, I want to be treated immediately. I want my energy back!

The next day, Hannah, Fiona and I all went to the Perry Street Fair. I went mainly for the Buddhist Temple Open House but it was fun to see all the vendors and feel the creative energy. Unfortunately I was already starting to get sick so I didn't get quite as excited and inspired as usual when I go to things like these. However, there was a strange and endearing moment: Hannah had left me for the car and Fiona was up the road checking out the rest of the vendors and I had managed to find myself in a little throng of people watching a street magician. He was wearing all orange and had a dry, understated sense of humor that really worked for him. I love magic shows. I know there is a trick to it... I know that there is some kind of mechanical answer to every mystical feat but I don't fucking care. Bring on the illusion and deception and the magic! This orange street magician was pretty fun. At one point he nailed a giant nail into his nasal cavity and this he told us wasn't actually a magic trick, that it was a carnival thing and then he kept starting and stopping so much that his audience was about to have a heart attack. A tall man beside he grabbed my arm and asked if it was okay if he clung to me during the trick. I said yes. So we watched and sure enough the man hammered the nail straight into his head via the sinus. It was so weird and I loved it. 

By Saturday night I was feeling pretty goddamn awful health-wise. It felt like I was getting bronchitis, you know... like I always do. And so I drank lots of fluids, took 1000 units of Vitamin C and headed to bed at about 9 or so. But it was awful and I couldn't sleep. Finally close to 3AM I texted my boss telling her I wasn't sure if I was going to make it. I did get about an hour and a half of sleep before dragging my ass into work. I kept a running dialogue with my boss via text. She was checking up on me, making sure I was doing okay. Well I survived the work day and then drove home. Only I was so out of it that I passed my Pines exit. Passed three other exits. Passed Liberty Lake. And then saw a "Welcome to Idaho" sign. Apparently my sick brain had decided to go to my parent's house for a while. 

So I went to see my Dad, my Mom was at my Aunt's house. And Dad took care of me, put me to bed, brought me tea, patted my back during a coughing fit. Ellie Bellie, the black Persian, also played the Nurse. She kept curling up with me in the bed. I maybe got another hour of sleep before I couldn't take laying flat anymore. Dad was so cute. He was going to pull out more chicken from the freezer so that I could stay for dinner but I told him I had to be getting back so Hannah wouldn't worry about me. He managed to make me stay longer, however, by tempting me with a corndog. But after the corndog, and the microwaved quesadilla, and the coffee, and more Ellie cuddles, and conversation about how horrible people are (we were watching the News), Dad finally let me go.

That evening while watering the pumpkin plant, I found an infant bird. It looked as if it had fallen out of the tree while trying to fly or had somehow been injured. We put in a large box with a towel to keep it comfortable. A friend of ours who knows a bit about birds told us that was the best thing to do. That the parents would come for it later if it was meant to live. The next morning it was dead. 

Busy times, an update on life in general and the Bucket List

It has been incredibly busy. My counterpart, the Hannah, has mentioned some of this business in her blog, but I wanted to recap it a little here. It's been sort of nonstop, go, go, go for a while and today being the Fourth and all I wanted to just slow things down a little and reminisce. We've sold the Jeep. Our friend has a tiny bit left to pay on it, but more than that I'm super excited for it to be alive again so that she doesn't have to keep renting Uhaul trucks to move her Kettle Korn stuff from place to place and also because I feel the Jeep is somewhat safer and more reliable than the old yellow truck that she'd been using before. So knowing she's safer makes me happy.

After selling the Jeep however, Hannah and I got a real wild hair to go and trade in the Kia but right now it just isn't going to work. We had a bit of a meltdown last Thursday about all of that. Being without my depression meds for a while certainly didn't help. On Friday we went with mom to Silverwood. I love that place. For me it is a clean slice of a different world: Victorian and elegant yet rugged and rustic. And I love all the flowers. I never noticed flowers before as much as I do now. I think being able to plant in the back yard has really changed my perspective on green things. My Kettle Korn friend calls me a Green Witch. I just might be. 

On Saturday Hannah and I went to our friend's house for soap making. Hannah made soap. I attempted to write for NaNo and ended up taking a much needed nap in a comfy as hell recliner. I worked the next morning (not too many issues) and then we returned to said friend's house for a round of gaming. I really enjoy this group of people and hope that I don't ever get too weird or obnoxious for them. I know that I often lack the 'okay you're going too far' self warning. I think as I get back on my meds properly I either won't A) be as obnoxious or B) won't worry as much about it knowing that my friends love me for who I am. 

Today I worked the Holiday at work and everything went very well except for the fact that the phones weren't working for about an hour. Even so it went very smoothly. When I got home though, I did something I regret a bit... I curled up on the bed in the bedroom and napped the fuck out of the afternoon. It wasn't particularly restful sleep but it was tremendously comforting because for the entire time that I was napping, Narcisa was right there with me. I think she knew I needed a nap companion and I think she knew I was a bit out of sorts. Tonight Hannah and I are going to watch a movie and enjoy Butter Chicken. I don't work until 8 tomorrow, which is awesome and also sucks. I love getting done at 4 but on the other hand I've been working from 7 until 5 for the past two weeks, so just doing a regular 8 hour day (with one hour for lunch) is going to be a real treat I reckon. I only have to make it through Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And then I can have some more fun this weekend. I'm trying to cram in as much fun as possible. Rest is great but going out and doing stuff, getting some Vitamin D, socializing... these things are helping me reboot for the work week more than anything right now.

Also, here is a quick update of the Bucket List for Summer of 2016: So far I've only managed to cross off camping and star gazing and one time for Silverwood. My goal for Silverwood is three. I'll be closer to that goal after this weekend though. I really do enjoy that damn park. It's incredibly nostalgic for me.

Into July with Work and Writing

Camped a weekend ago and it was marvelous. Just what I needed to get back in touch with nature. It was brief and it rained but it was lovely. This weekend started in a weird panic attack of adulting. I was supposed to go to the doctor's on Thursday but the appointment was cancelled. No big deal really except that I've been out of my meds already for a month (been cutting pills in half and skipping days here and there to keep myself somewhat normal). Also Hannah and I have been wanting to get a car and we did some serious budgeting the last few days and that resulted in crying. We will be getting a new car and we are fairly certain what type we want and from where but it will have to wait just a little while longer. That's been a huge bummer for us, but we can't do much extra right now. We're making it but not with too much wiggle room.

Yesterday Hannah and I went with my mom to Silverwood. We played in the wave pool and saw the magician, Nick Norton. That was about it. And that was pretty much perfect. She has a pass so we can go anytime we all want to this summer, so there wasn't that panicked must-cram-it-all-in-today feeling. After the park we brought home funnel cake, some coffee, and some chocolate coated espresso beans for dad. We did a belated father's day. We watched a German 'found footage' movie that kind of sucked and then went to our old favorite 'The Vicar of Dibley.'

Today I worked on some laundry and then Hannah, I and some of our friends all convened at De's house for soap making lessons. Well some of us got soap making lessons... I took a shower and then curled up in a comfy chair and tried to get a good start on Camp NaNoWriMo. I got about three sentences out and fell asleep. And snored. To which my friends reminded me that I really need to get a sleep study done because I definitely sound like I have sleep apnea. Which is one of the reasons I really wanted to have that doctor's appointment last Thursday.

Speaking of Camp NaNoWriMo (NaNo for short) I'm going to spend this month finishing and polishing my Death Man novel. It's about damn time I finished it. Once it's complete I'll work on the sequel and then, if I can, I'll pump out my Dust Bowl story. I really love that one. I think it's a bit more 'literary' in a way than Death Man but that's not why I love it so much. I'm just very centered into the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. That time period speaks to me in the same way that WWII speaks to Hannah. I'm intrigued and inspired by those that left and those that stayed and how they managed to survive such an unrelenting period. But, just like getting a new/er car, the Dust Bowl story will have to wait. For now it's nose to the grindstone at work and get Death Man done.

Tomorrow is Sunday. It's D&D night for one of my and Hannah's campaigns. I like it because it's very flexible and we just sort of schedule it when we can all make it. The next day is the 4th of July. I don't know what Hannah and I are doing for it yet. We've been invited to the family thing at my Aunt's and we've also been invited to the lake with some good friends. Those things are possibilities but not highly likely - Hannah isn't wanting to leave home for some reason. I'm working in the morning but after that we're thinking of possibly having a small cook out at home. Or maybe we'll just spend it alone, just the two of us. We could watch fireworks on YouTube and just spend that time with the kitty. Maybe we'll do card games or tarot or something. No matter what, I just want a nice, safe, and relaxing fourth.

Ever Seeking, Never Finding

I've been applying for technical writing jobs in the area and I'm not feeling the love so much. I know that it's not personal, I know that I'm a talented individual with much to offer and blah blah blah but sometimes, rejection after rejection after rejection can really start to feel personal. I feel like I deserve a good job. I deserve a good life. Don't I? Maybe I don't. Maybe I'm not as good a person as I thought. But of course that's just insecurity and depression talking. Isn't it?

I'm completely useless right now. I'm not writing and I'm not working a job that can give us the things we need. I work at L'eggs Hanes Bali for a pittance that keeps allows me to make minimum payments on all the credit cards I had to get to supplement my pittance. Right now the priority has become the job. Which is unfortunate. I wish the priority was writing. But circumstances outside my control make it impossible for it to be the main thing. I guess. Ugh.

I keep feeling that if I just get a good job, and just get an apartment so that we can have our own space and all that, that things will get better. And this is kind of bullshit. Things are always going to be in chaos and I know that. I just want a break from being a bra-fitter, a break from being a grad-student, a break from debt, a break from life! And I won't get a break from anything so I just need to suck it up and keep applying. I'm afraid to even think about the student loans.

Onward and upward. I'm going to be applying for Tedder Industries today as a creative copywriter. But here's the thing, it's to write about second amendment rights and conceal carry. While I'm comfortable with guns in my house and comfortable around guns, I don't know that I want to tell the world they need guns! I don't think most people should have guns, and I also believe that if outlawing all guns this very instant would help with the violence in our country I'd give up my gun in a heartbeat. So how am I going to work for a company whose success hinges upon more and more people getting guns and conceal carry licenses? I know I could do my job, but will I feel good doing it, is the question. I guess I'll cross that bridge if I get a damn interview. I haven't managed one of those since 2014. I'm getting a little discouraged.

List Update and Tacos

Recently I reconnected with family from Colorado. My "long-story-short" adoptive Auntie and Brother were up here for the weekend until today. I learned a few things while they were here. Some of the things I learned were incident while others were directly because of the visit. Nevertheless, here are some of the things I learned about myself, about others, and about the universe this past weekend:

1. I absolutely hate celery seed. There are times I will tolerate the hint of celery in a sauce or the actual presence of it in a stew, but celery seeds are repugnant.
2. I believe in olive oil. 
3. Frankie can't handle his liquor. And he doesn't like being laughed at either.
4. Taco Tuesday!
5. In the great debate of money versus happiness, I choose happiness, much to the chagrin of my Auntie who seems to think that money will make everything all right.
6. I don't really want a government job.
7. Nearly all of my close friends and associates (the people I hang with) suffer from mental/physical problems. Many rely on SSI. And almost everyone is poor. Some are making it, some are struggling. Some have worked damn hard to get where they are and are pillars of humility and generosity. No one is rich. Not really. And all of my friends are fragile from time to time. And yet I still like them and don't want to hang with a "better" crowd.
8. Did I mention Taco Tuesday? $6 all you can eat tacos every Tuesday at Azteca after 4PM!
9. It really bothers me when people come into my home and try to "retrain" my cat to better suit their expectations. This is her home. Back off.
10. I don't like Kohl's.
11. I'm so Borderline sometimes that I cannot fucking function.
12. Depression meds are my friend.
13. I love skulls on my clothing.
14. I love opals. And I want an opal in my engagement/wedding ring.
15. There are people out there who are unaware of marriage equality. Their ignorance disturbs me.

"You want me off this table? Oh, well, it doesn't hurt you to want. Pbbbbbt!"