Monthly Archives: September 2011

whitman’s sampler

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I leave half-finished posts unposted for days, and then delete them because the topics are now old news. So here’s some random:

School
My Clock Picture for Drawing Class.

Self Portrait, ugh. The blue cast is because I took thie picture outside, I think. Afterwards I did a fingerstick, and let’s just say it’s a miracle this drawing didn’t come out even worse!

The Six Basic Shapes (for Fundamentals of Design class.) This project was more my speed: COLORING. Ha!

I haven’t received grades on any of these yet. It’s hard for me to accept that, when it comes to art, the very best I can do is–maybe–a B. Maybe that is the real lesson I need to learn at this point in my life, though. On the up side, I don’t have any trouble accepting critique, because years of writing have thickened my skin. On the down side, I still hate hate hate to give it. I don’t feel qualified, and I know other people do get their feelings hurt.

Critters
I have at least six hamster pups running around the cage and trying out the wheel. There is so much cuteness contained in such a small area, even T-Moth had to go, “Aw!” I’m fixing to move them all to a large plastic bin as soon as I figure out how to hang the water bottle. I’m on a budget, and I chose to buy an exercise wheel rather than a bottle hanger that probably wouldn’t be low enough anyway. I have another idea though…we’ll see how it works out.

Cobie and Kelly miss me, and I miss them. I’m gone a lot, and when I am home, I’m busy. I’m hoping to squeeze in some hanging-out-like-dogs on the deck time this afternoon.

I need better time-management skills.

Seriously.

Health
It’s not just the colonoscopy, or the eye exam. It’s all the hours I lose prepping for the -scopy, or half-blinded by the dialation. I can’t afford to lose that much time. My brain is not as fast as all these 18-year-olds’! Also it’s tireder. Probably the only part of my body that’s smoother now than 10 years ago.

Writing
Last Friday I went to the school’s creative writing club. I didn’t have a good feeling about it, since the club description emphasized poetry and short fiction, and well…I hardly read poetry, much less write it, and it’s been years since I popped out any short fiction. I went because Zor wanted to go, and I was obsessively avoiding an art project.

It didn’t turn out too bad. The instructor who leads the group seems to be grounded in publishing realities rather than literary snobbery (as I admit I had feared.) One of the women in the group is writing a YA F/SF novel with black protagonists. I wish I were more enthusiastic about speculative YA. Although lately I’ve been wanting to read Black and Blue Magic again for the first time in what,…30 years or better?

Mostly what I learned from the meeting is, I need to make time for writing in my life. And dogs…but also writing.

Need.

It goes back to that time management thing again.

Anyhow, as fragmented as this post feels, I’m-a hit send before I get distracted again.

thankful thursday

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I am pooped. I was up half the night playing with the mp3 player Mr Moth bought cheap from a fellow at work. I finally have an mp3 player that can handle audio books.

I’m fairly certain Lita had babies last night. I can’t see them, because she built her nest high, but yesterday she was enormous and today she’s her skinny li’l self. Furthermore, I hear squeaking. Wee tiny squeaking.

I’m changing Zanny’s name to Zandy, which is what I wanted to name her/him in the first place, but Zor insisted that was a boy’s name. Since for Lita to have babies, Zanny has to be a boy…yeah. Zandy. I separated them over a week ago after Lita bit Zanny Zandy and made her him bleed. Haha, I guess I know why now.

A plus on another topic, it’s cool enough to wear long pants today. Which is good, considering that’s what’s clean!

Oh, and it’s my mommy’s birthday. She’s 71. She’s still teaching me things, and there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful for her.

calendars

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This back-to-school gig is a lot harder than I thought it would be…kinda like when you think you know what the exhaustion is going to be like, and then you have a baby. I’ve had my blogging client open for days but have been too tired to type anything coherent into it.

Housework? Exercise? Writing? Not happening. I’ve got to figure out a way to get on top of those things. One of my biggest challenges is figuring out what calendar/planner works best for me. I like google calendar, but when half the world insists I turn off my cell phone, how do I access my calendar?

I tried a regular monthly pocket calendar, but the blocks are too tiny for all the things (assignments) I need to write in them. I think a weekly planner is going to be better. Maybe. Switching it back and forth from my bookbag to my purse is just another thing I’m going to forget to do.

Can’t I please just leave my phone on? I promise not to answer it, talk on it, or text with it. I just need to see my calendar.

updates

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Critter Update:

Lita in her Cage-Cleaning Bucket

Zanny and Lita have grown.  They squeak and squabble a lot.  Zanny is heftier, and lets Lita have her way about all things.  Z also zooms the exercise wheel so vigorously, the cage scoots across the shelf where they live, imperceptibly, until I notice it’s moved half an inch and put it back.  Lita is less friendly, and less substantial in my hand.  Her soft gray fur makes holding her like holding a wisp of fog, although I think she may be picking up a little.  She doesn’t like having the cage cleaned out.  After cleaning, I won’t see her for a day.  Zanny runs upstairs to the dining room when she hears me, and no longer cringes when my hand is coming toward her.  She’ll sit on my bosom and be stroked.

Leta tries, but as soon as I pick her up, she freaks and tries to squirt out of my hand.  That’s why their last names are now Squirt, lol.  Also, they are squirts.

The rodent sisters kick out quite a few seeds, but not as many as Dmitri did.  I brush the kickouts onto the floor and Cobie and Kelly hoover them up for me.

Writing Update:

I stopped, for now, the pre-writing, and began…chapter one?  Except thinking in chapters doesn’t come naturally to me.  With godlight I added the chapter divisions after I started submitting things to my critique group, and I cheated a little by just dividing wherever the point of view changes.  So, let’s say I began the first scene.  Scenes make sense to me:  goal, obstacle, disaster.

I began the first scene and then fizzled.  I’m just not there, in the story world yet.  I want to be, and I will be.  I wish I were stronger about it, and could say, I am a writer, and I make no excuses!  I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow myself right into the story!

But yeah, no.  That’s not happening.

School Update:

Zor and I got our books.  Because the powers that be aren’t releasing our student loan funds until sometime after the quarter actually begins, we had to pay $20 each to get a “temporary loan,” which irritated me two-fold.  First because all loans are temporary, duh; if they were permanent they’d be grants.  Second because it feels like a racket to charge us again to borrow the money we already paid to borrow.

Anyhow, I shelled out $340 for three books, two of them used.  Zor’s books were over $600.  That whirring sound you hear is my Scot ancestors whirling in their graves like gyroscopes.

For now, I must fly.  I’m going to write something today even if someone dies in the attempt.  I hope not me.  That would put a major crimp in my plans.