I am finally, finally at the "end" of my work week. I have the next two days off, and well, that's just awesome. I had closing shifts all this week, so I haven't been getting home until after 10 p.m., and then I don't get wound down enough to sleep (a.k.a. drunk) until almost midnight. So the next day, I take a nap before work, wake up with a stomachache that lasts all night....ack. I can feel my old stripper sleep schedule stirring.....gathering strength.....NO! YOU'RE DEAD! IM A MORNING PERSON NOW! I KILLED YOU!
Heh heh.
When I go back to work on Saturday, I have an interview for a new, full-time position within the company. I'm up against four other coworkers, we shall see. The path shall open up as I move forward.....maybe it will split.....who knows?
Speaking of the former lifestyle, it's almost comical how everyone from that sphere asks if I'm coming back. Which, is only because most dancers that leave to go give a go at the real world, end up coming back after a few months. Like, 90%. "Quitting dancing, and finding a real job" has a dismal success rate, unfortunately.
I put my time in, and I was one of the lucky ones <3
K
January 15, 2014
January 06, 2014
Am I doing the training, or am I being trained?
I've always wanted to be more of a regular, strictly self-disciplined person. Well, 'regular', other than bowel movements, has never been me. Apparently, I possess too much of a creative dreamy brain, and along with a bit of ADD, I get bored quickly. I'm half in awe, half in pbbbttt! of those super-internally powered individuals who get in a workout every day, or get 1000 words written every day, no matter what. Those types get so much more done than I do because they don't have to waste time figuring out "what works for them today".
Today I'm writing to blues music. The day before it was classical. Today I feel very motivated and that the juices are flowing a bit better, yesterday it was quite a struggle.
Maybe I just have to figure it out every day. I just need to accept the fact that I'm never going to be a regular writer, and I need to get better at figuring out my writing specs for the day, faster.
Maybe I have a male Muse. Maybe if I turn "it" into more of a boss figure, that would help keep my butt in the chair?
Maybe I think too much.
K
Today I'm writing to blues music. The day before it was classical. Today I feel very motivated and that the juices are flowing a bit better, yesterday it was quite a struggle.
Maybe I just have to figure it out every day. I just need to accept the fact that I'm never going to be a regular writer, and I need to get better at figuring out my writing specs for the day, faster.
Maybe I have a male Muse. Maybe if I turn "it" into more of a boss figure, that would help keep my butt in the chair?
Maybe I think too much.
K
January 04, 2014
Saturday ADD
I need to get some serious work done on my WIPs today, but I feel like I'm incapable of concentrating. I have yet to find my writing perfect storm, but I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that my muse likes to hide out in several different storylines.
I recently picked up a fantasy work I had started fleshing out several months ago; it involves the legendary Baba Yaga, and her Russian folklore counterparts. I'm surprised at how many people don't know who she is, and I think I do only because she was in one of my childhood storybooks.
I decided that it's better if I have something "lighthearted" (um, cuz someone who eats children makes for lighthearted fiction...?) to counterbalance all the depressing and dysfunctional shit that's happening in my other WIP. I also reminded myself that there was a lot of fun, crazy shit that happened in my dancing days, and that the less than desirable qualities weren't always so up front.
Speaking of the land of naked women, a former coworker was texting me yesterday, inquiring as to how I was doing. Then she proceeds to fill me in on how she walked out on a Saturday night bartending shift b/c there was too much drug activity going on and she couldn't take it anymore. Girl, you've been dancing for over twenty years (yes, 20), yes there are many drugs that go through the place, any and all of the clubs. It's part of that subculture, and it's always going to be around. That shit irritates me- why bitch about something that you've chosen to continue to be around? You know that it's never going to change, just like the mismanagement is never going to stop. Stop trying to be a clean-up crusader.
Ok, I think I've emptied my buzzy brain enough to maybe move to the writing. Thanks for listening!
K
I recently picked up a fantasy work I had started fleshing out several months ago; it involves the legendary Baba Yaga, and her Russian folklore counterparts. I'm surprised at how many people don't know who she is, and I think I do only because she was in one of my childhood storybooks.
I decided that it's better if I have something "lighthearted" (um, cuz someone who eats children makes for lighthearted fiction...?) to counterbalance all the depressing and dysfunctional shit that's happening in my other WIP. I also reminded myself that there was a lot of fun, crazy shit that happened in my dancing days, and that the less than desirable qualities weren't always so up front.
Speaking of the land of naked women, a former coworker was texting me yesterday, inquiring as to how I was doing. Then she proceeds to fill me in on how she walked out on a Saturday night bartending shift b/c there was too much drug activity going on and she couldn't take it anymore. Girl, you've been dancing for over twenty years (yes, 20), yes there are many drugs that go through the place, any and all of the clubs. It's part of that subculture, and it's always going to be around. That shit irritates me- why bitch about something that you've chosen to continue to be around? You know that it's never going to change, just like the mismanagement is never going to stop. Stop trying to be a clean-up crusader.
Ok, I think I've emptied my buzzy brain enough to maybe move to the writing. Thanks for listening!
K
December 30, 2013
Birthday Surprise
My father called me on my birthday. I was very surprised to see his caller ID, and it made me immediately happy and nervous. I had to suppress giggling- oh, that nervous tick. I figured he had probably called my sister first, and she had cajoled him into calling me, but she said he didn't call her.
He sounded very upbeat, and we had a nice conversation. But now I'm intensely curious- why now, after so many years of not calling? What is going on in his life to change his pattern? Why did he sound so happy? My father is a creature of habit, it coincides with the alcoholism. I know it's a very morbid thought, but I couldn't help but wonder if he's sick, and is trying to amend things before he passes. I know, I know, but the man has been a lifelong smoker and heavy drinker. Like, since he was about 14.
I've often wondered if my dancing career was what made him stop communicating with me. No father wants his daughter dancing, and as far as I know him, I could see him backing away because of it. My mother blames his behavior completely on the alcoholism, of course, which yes, is about 80% of it. But still, why would he call my sister on her birthday, but never me on mine? Or call her on Christmas but not call me?
Before his phone call, I was considering writing him a letter and letting him know how I felt, how his uneven affections for his children hurt, and let him know I wasn't dancing anymore. It was going to be my last effort to create some kind of relationship with him. Now, I don't know. I think I'll just send him a card, maybe a late Christmas card.
KR
He sounded very upbeat, and we had a nice conversation. But now I'm intensely curious- why now, after so many years of not calling? What is going on in his life to change his pattern? Why did he sound so happy? My father is a creature of habit, it coincides with the alcoholism. I know it's a very morbid thought, but I couldn't help but wonder if he's sick, and is trying to amend things before he passes. I know, I know, but the man has been a lifelong smoker and heavy drinker. Like, since he was about 14.
I've often wondered if my dancing career was what made him stop communicating with me. No father wants his daughter dancing, and as far as I know him, I could see him backing away because of it. My mother blames his behavior completely on the alcoholism, of course, which yes, is about 80% of it. But still, why would he call my sister on her birthday, but never me on mine? Or call her on Christmas but not call me?
Before his phone call, I was considering writing him a letter and letting him know how I felt, how his uneven affections for his children hurt, and let him know I wasn't dancing anymore. It was going to be my last effort to create some kind of relationship with him. Now, I don't know. I think I'll just send him a card, maybe a late Christmas card.
KR
December 18, 2013
Tribe Maintenance
I have quite the beautiful, snowy, country scene out my window. Snow covered trees, a fenceline, and a falling down barn. In fact, inside that barn lives a barn kitty named Gray Stripe. Don't worry, he's a well-fed barn cat.
I am meeting up with a friend in a little while to have a good meal and catch-up. My friend M is a member of my tribe, he's one of those old-fashioned country bumpkins that's happiest when he's up in his tree stand. I have incorporated his character into my novel, in fact. His farmstead is a place of refuge for my main character when she needs to get away.
I have my Christmas shopping about half done. Every year I always wonder if I'll ever really get into the spirit like some people do. If I had gobs of money, would that do it? It would make gift-buying easier, but would it change my "Eh" attitude about it? The closest I come is when I happen upon the "perfect" gift for someone, I get a little thrill of excitement. I do admit, it would be nice to have gobs of money to perhaps change up the decorations, and do a whole holiday theme.
A Goth Christmas would be fun, I think.
K
I am meeting up with a friend in a little while to have a good meal and catch-up. My friend M is a member of my tribe, he's one of those old-fashioned country bumpkins that's happiest when he's up in his tree stand. I have incorporated his character into my novel, in fact. His farmstead is a place of refuge for my main character when she needs to get away.
I have my Christmas shopping about half done. Every year I always wonder if I'll ever really get into the spirit like some people do. If I had gobs of money, would that do it? It would make gift-buying easier, but would it change my "Eh" attitude about it? The closest I come is when I happen upon the "perfect" gift for someone, I get a little thrill of excitement. I do admit, it would be nice to have gobs of money to perhaps change up the decorations, and do a whole holiday theme.
A Goth Christmas would be fun, I think.
K
December 15, 2013
Puurrrfecct
Soundtrack:
Britney Spears, "Tick Tick Boom"
Both Britney and Bey have recently come out with new shit that I'm digging. Yes, Britney is a pop princess, but she's got 21st century soul. Her music is very honest and emotional, and add a good bass, I'm hooked. I still remember standing in line at Price Chopper and copping the picture of her crazy shaved ass swinging the umbrella. Like, woah. Beyonce- what do I even have to say? She's still a mystery to me, those fuckin' eyes of her....and gf can sing. She blows Britney out of the water, yes I know.
Anyway, having a much needed space-out moment. Work is going very well, and is very busy. I've been doing 8-4 hours, and let me tell you, at about 3 p.m. my patience is just about all done. Trying to work around crowds of people is so very annoying. Kids screaming over toys they're not getting, rude ass women (men are much more polite than women shoppers) using their shopping carts as a plow, let me tell you.
But I love it :D It's been quite an experience already.
It's been a great year, folks. I'm happier than I've been in years. Sometimes it still seems like a dream.
K
p.s. I have finished reading a whole book since the last entry-murder mystery involving people also crazy about books. How's that cosmic realignment for you? ;)
Britney Spears, "Tick Tick Boom"
Both Britney and Bey have recently come out with new shit that I'm digging. Yes, Britney is a pop princess, but she's got 21st century soul. Her music is very honest and emotional, and add a good bass, I'm hooked. I still remember standing in line at Price Chopper and copping the picture of her crazy shaved ass swinging the umbrella. Like, woah. Beyonce- what do I even have to say? She's still a mystery to me, those fuckin' eyes of her....and gf can sing. She blows Britney out of the water, yes I know.
Anyway, having a much needed space-out moment. Work is going very well, and is very busy. I've been doing 8-4 hours, and let me tell you, at about 3 p.m. my patience is just about all done. Trying to work around crowds of people is so very annoying. Kids screaming over toys they're not getting, rude ass women (men are much more polite than women shoppers) using their shopping carts as a plow, let me tell you.
But I love it :D It's been quite an experience already.
It's been a great year, folks. I'm happier than I've been in years. Sometimes it still seems like a dream.
K
p.s. I have finished reading a whole book since the last entry-murder mystery involving people also crazy about books. How's that cosmic realignment for you? ;)
December 05, 2013
Reading Woes
As those that know me know, I have always been a bibliophile- I love books, I love to smell them, caress them, turn the pages, etc.
I read constantly as a kid; looking back at it, perhaps diving into a story was the way I handled my anxiety. I had a couple of friends who lived down the street from me in Syracuse, and they would walk over to play. I would beg them to come back in 15, 20 minutes, so I could finish the gripping part of the story I was in.
In grammar school, when we would all line up to go to art class, gym class, or the cafeteria, I would read while walking along in line. The teachers loved it, and yes, I did it partly to show off. But I was quite good at it- I never (well, rarely) bumped into the kid ahead of me and always handled the corners like an expert.
My 6th grade teacher-bless her fucking soul- would get us lined up to the tune of Carmen. She would clap her hands to the rhythm, and we would line up, and started clapping along with her. She was always quite amused by the adult titles I would pick, stuff that you'd never see an 11-year old reading. I did trudge through some boring ass shit, just for the attention it would garner. To this day, I still don't understand the big hubbah over Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I need to re-read it, I definitely read that one too young.And I distinctly remember her tittering over Waiting for Godot. She knew I didn't know what the hell I was reading, but she was tickled pink by my effort.
As an adult, I find it extremely difficult to get into books the way I would as a kid. I had no problem reading for hours, but it's very hard for me to just sit and read. I get a guilty complex- why am I just sitting here, "doing nothing"? Why aren't the dishes done? Why am I not working on my novel?
While I was dancing, I found that reading a book I was super interested in, was a good way to drum up some business on slow days. 'Cuz mother fuckers always wanted to come in and start talking to me when I was in the middle of a great paranormal vampire sex scene (a.k.a. anything written by J.D. Ward). I always had to take a deep, calming breath while putting the book down, I would be so annoyed. Despite needing the money, and oh yeah- being at work.
I hate that I can't get into reading the same way, but I am determined to at least make some headway. I'm breaking down my own barriers about what's "acceptable" to read, and what's not. Woman, read what the hell peaks your interests, even it's "below your standards". Yes, I'm a book snob.
There will be a similar post soon, about the digitizing of libraries and my horror over that. Don't even get me started.
But for now, I have a lesbian jealousy fight to get through in my novel. Oh, there will also be a prostitute and hot makeup sex (not with the prostitute).
K
I read constantly as a kid; looking back at it, perhaps diving into a story was the way I handled my anxiety. I had a couple of friends who lived down the street from me in Syracuse, and they would walk over to play. I would beg them to come back in 15, 20 minutes, so I could finish the gripping part of the story I was in.
In grammar school, when we would all line up to go to art class, gym class, or the cafeteria, I would read while walking along in line. The teachers loved it, and yes, I did it partly to show off. But I was quite good at it- I never (well, rarely) bumped into the kid ahead of me and always handled the corners like an expert.
My 6th grade teacher-bless her fucking soul- would get us lined up to the tune of Carmen. She would clap her hands to the rhythm, and we would line up, and started clapping along with her. She was always quite amused by the adult titles I would pick, stuff that you'd never see an 11-year old reading. I did trudge through some boring ass shit, just for the attention it would garner. To this day, I still don't understand the big hubbah over Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I need to re-read it, I definitely read that one too young.And I distinctly remember her tittering over Waiting for Godot. She knew I didn't know what the hell I was reading, but she was tickled pink by my effort.
As an adult, I find it extremely difficult to get into books the way I would as a kid. I had no problem reading for hours, but it's very hard for me to just sit and read. I get a guilty complex- why am I just sitting here, "doing nothing"? Why aren't the dishes done? Why am I not working on my novel?
While I was dancing, I found that reading a book I was super interested in, was a good way to drum up some business on slow days. 'Cuz mother fuckers always wanted to come in and start talking to me when I was in the middle of a great paranormal vampire sex scene (a.k.a. anything written by J.D. Ward). I always had to take a deep, calming breath while putting the book down, I would be so annoyed. Despite needing the money, and oh yeah- being at work.
I hate that I can't get into reading the same way, but I am determined to at least make some headway. I'm breaking down my own barriers about what's "acceptable" to read, and what's not. Woman, read what the hell peaks your interests, even it's "below your standards". Yes, I'm a book snob.
There will be a similar post soon, about the digitizing of libraries and my horror over that. Don't even get me started.
But for now, I have a lesbian jealousy fight to get through in my novel. Oh, there will also be a prostitute and hot makeup sex (not with the prostitute).
K
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