Tired

I am mentally exhausted and need a vacation. It isn't enough that I took a day off from work; I am just incredibly tired and really wish I could go away for a week. I can't because I have too much work to do and that is frustrating for me. I just want to sleep for a whole week.  

Just like Oscar.

  

I Want Those Two Hours back

Last night I went see Terminator Salvation and while I enjoyed myself immensely, it was a terrible movie. The first fifteen minutes were great; lots of action, tons of brooding from Christian Bale and then something happened. It was like someone reached into my head and planted the entire movie in there, cheesy lines and all, and said very quietly 'Now you know what happens. Go have a pint.'

I unfortunately didn't listen and stayed for the rest of the movie. The main reason I stayed was primarily to make sure the voice in my head was right. The other reason I stayed was because of the huge bag of popcorn I had yet to finish. Between the obvious links and deliberate pointing back to the first three movies, it was hard to tell if this was a new movie or outtakes from the others. I gave up trying to justify my choice of film; I love bad movies with lots of action, and this was right up my alley. 

The writer in me kept seeing how it could have been so much better, how they could have taken this little piece of dialogue and expanded it, or cut this action scene back however when it comes right down to it this was not meant to win any kind of award. It was meant to entertain, not inform and it did just that. Plus, Sam Worthington was great as the secret Terminator. And I did not spoil it because believe me you can see that plot coming a mile away.

Now I have to go cook a chicken.

Why Even Bother?

I got up this morning fully intending to work on my story and just realized that I have spent 36 minutes surfing the internet and checking out facebook. Okay, perhaps that isn't entirely true: I sent the piece I'm working on to my work email address so that I can print it out and edit it. Although that only counts as about a minute of work, it's still work and I still did it. 

I never used to be a morning person, unless you count getting home at 5am and staying up until after coffee and bacon before heading to bed. This is somewhat different. I actually woke up excited this morning. Not sure if it's because everyone is my office is away at a conference and I can actually get my work done this week or if it's because I'm following through with something. I am a horrible procrastinator and will leave things to the very last second. I know it will take a little while for me to become used to this new routine, but I have to say I do like getting up early. 

This week is going to be hectic. I have a lot of work to do and one of my colleagues is going on maternity leave at the end of the month so I need to pick her brain on a couple of things before she leaves. She takes care of a ton of small things in addition to her regular job and I want to make sure that those things are covered. No one has given any thought to that yet; I'd like to be able to say it's being handled when the time comes.

Now that I've spent too much time not doing what I had originally planned to do when I set my alarm last night, it's almost time to get ready for work. I don't feel as though I've let myself down though; this is a new process and once I become accustomed to it I will be more focused on doing what I rolled out of bed for: writing.  

If this is going to work I will need to buy more cream for my coffee. 

The Next Step

Yesterday was a great day. I spent the morning and part of the afternoon with R, going to an art gallery and speaking with the owner about art and creativity. When I spoke to him about the necessity of having a day job so that I could do what I love on the side, he completely agreed with me. He understood that I am not giving up on my dream, that I am being realistic and responsible by ensuring my bills are paid. While I would be able to freelance and be paid well, I am not willing to sacrifice my lifestyle just to show people I can do it. It is enough that I know I can do it and I no longer have anything to prove.

Further to that was the topic of education and whether or not it is useful. I am pro-education and continuously looking for courses to take or books to read. This fall I am going back to school to finally get the certification I need in order to charge more for my work. In my case, spending the money on the courses isn't negotiable: I have to spend this money in order to get more money later. While that may make me sound like a money-hungry bitch, I think of it as a logical decision that should be made for my benefit.

After I got home, I thought a lot about what we had discussed at the gallery and how it applies to my personal life. Without going into detail, I have made a decision that may cost me down the road. I spend a lot of my time ensuring that the people around me are well taken care of and I would rather focus on their happiness than my own. Whether it's because I don't really know what makes me happy or I am too uncomfortable to examine myself to find out, the fact remains that I need to focus on myself. Doesn't mean I'm going to become single anytime soon; it just means I need to shift my focus to myself. Part of that means I need to write more, as it is my passion and something that I need in my life. I have left it for a little while simply because life got in the way and there were other things that needed to be done. Now that they are dealt with, I have to get back to what I was doing before: getting up early to write before going to work.  

I have always found that starting my day off in that manner makes for a better day. I am in desperate need of a mental workout and I can do that by writing. I have started running again and I am amazed at how quickly the extra puffiness comes away. Not that I was fat; I put on a bit of weight when I was pregnant and just became lazy. Now that I have started running, I am fitting back into clothes that I had had to put aside because of the extra bit of me. Running and writing. I am right back to my 20's when that's all I used to do. Things really do come full circle, don't they? I was right where I needed to be and I drifted away because of a variety of things but just like fashion seems to revive every decade, so does life.   

I almost forgot. In a couple of weeks I am going to my little brother's wedding. I know, my family tree is becoming a shrub with all the twists and turns and nothing seems to match up like it should. D is the product of my father and second wife. He is getting married and has no idea I will be there as I haven't spoken to him in almost 12 years, just like my big brother M. His fiancee is aware that I am coming and completely supports it. I suspect there may be some tears shed when we do see each other.

Now that I am all warmed up, I am going to end this and go finish my submission to an amazing sci-fi magazine so that they can publish it and make me happy. 

A Bitch, A Complaint and some Awesomeness

Bitch:

I'm pretty sure I've already bitched about this but I'm still so damn angry I need to do it again. Two weekends ago was Mother's Day and the boy and I went to see my mom. We picked up a gift and a lovely card and were prepared to sit through the mounds of bullshit that my step-father was going to dish out. We got there, said hello and I noticed that the dining room table wasn't set the usual way when we go there for dinner. No fancy placemats, no chargers, no crystal, nothing. Just an empty table. I turned to my mother to ask her wtf, and she said that my step-father had decided that we weren't going to make a big deal about dinner. I just stared at her, furious. Knowing full well that he was in the next room, I said very loudly, "He does know that today is Mother's Day and that Father's Day is right around the corner, correct? I am guessing we won't be making a big deal out of that, either?"

We ate in the kitchen. What an asshole. Just wait until Father's Day rolls around and I don't make a big deal out if it like I normally do. Jackass.

Complaint:

I am tired of being labelled the bad guy for speaking my mind and holding fast to my principles. Speaking my mind at work hasn't netted me a raise however it has given me the chutzpah to go looking for a new job. When people don't do what they say they will, I file that information away for later and make sure I have the necessary back up for when the shit hits the fan. I cannot tell you how many times I've been asked the status of a project that I am not working on and expected to provide the answer. I have stopped trying to answer and begun to allow those who are responsible, and I use that term loosely, to actually blubber and sputter their way through whatever excuse they can muster at the time. It is very empowering to know that by giving up control of something, I am actually regaining control. And I also enjoy the look of terrified understanding on their faces when they realize that it all could have been avoided by simply working with me and not trying to fuck me over.

And now for the Awesomeness:

Last weekend was my stupid step-father's birthday barbeque. It was also the first time in 12 years that I have seen or spoken to my older blood brother. While it was awkward at first, he and I quickly reclaimed the friendship we shared when we were younger, to the point where he invited me up to his house for a weekend. We had a very long talk and finally were able to talk through some things that have been the basis for our non communication; things that had been eating away at both of us simply because we are both too stubborn to pick up the phone for fear of opening ourselves to pain. During our fantastic talk, we both were rebuked by our step-father for not joining the party. We looked at each other, and then before my brother could say anything, I reminded my step-father that I have not seen my brother in 12 years. I then directed him back to his party and away from us.

My brother has always held a very special place in my heart and I have missed him so much throughout these years. I completely opened up to him and told him that, and to my complete surprise he echoed my feelings. I don't really remember too much of the party to be honest, I was pretty fixated on my brother and his wife. They are a lovely couple, and she was instrumental in finally getting through to my brother and convincing him that sometimes you need to let go of the past and move forward in order to find peace.

It was a little weird being in my mom's kitchen with both my mom and my brother. It felt like no time had passed at all and we were still the same crazy giggling family we always were. I have always wanted my own family comprised of my own flesh and blood, and now it seems as though I have them. But that's not the best part. I also have a little brother whom I haven't seen in almost as long, and after my older brother told him the stories of our meeting, he now wants to see me too. And he's getting married next month. And they want me to go to the wedding. And we're going to build my Lego Death Star that's still in the box from Christmas together. As a family. Me and my brothers and my sisters-in-law. Wow.

And honestly, I don't need to hear any crap from anyone about how I was supposed to have a Death Star building party and now everyone's all upset because it won't happen. It will happen. I'm just going to build it with my brothers first. And if any of you have a problem with that, guess who won't be invited to the second building?

I Love it When A Plan Comes Together

This weekend was one of the best ever. There really isn't one definitive thing that happened that makes me say that, it's more of a meshing of everything that happened. Friday night I was out with my girlfriends and we went dancing. The last time I did that I was with a different group of people and in a very different place in my life. Friday night reminded me that life doesn't stand still no matter how much you may want it to and that when it moves you either move with it or get left behind.

Saturday the boy and I spent with my mom. We took her a gift and a sappy card and she made us burgers and fries. More than the food though, we sat around after my step-father left and just giggled. She also surprised me with a gift that brought tears to my eyes: a book full of her memories of my grandmother. It also included pictures when I was little; pictures of my dad, my mom and me on my first day home (my mom had the same hairstyle back then that I am sporting right now: weird) and lots of other stuff. One of the nicest things was that it's written by my mother, so it's all her memories of me when I was a kid and how she felt when she was a kid. It really opened my eyes to read that. I have always known that I am special to my mom and it made me feel very special to be given something so lovingly and painstakingly put together by her. I am still flipping through the pages and finding out new things about my mother and I love her even more because she's allowed me to see that secret part of her that she doesn't show anyone.

After my mom's, we went to a friend's birthday party. Then we went to a terrible strip club. Then we went to an awesome comedy club. Then on the way home, I called 911 for the very first time in my life.

The main street by our house is undergoing construction and part of it is blocked to all southbound traffic. This means you have to find an alternate route, as in don't drive any further; there is no road. We were driving northbound and saw a black sports car dragging part of the chainlink fence on its hood. The car had smashed through the barrier fence, taken off part of its fancy underside skirting and was sparking the whole way. The car was swerving, and due to the time (almost 2am) the boy and I were afraid that with the clubs letting people out someone was going to get hurt. I called 911 to let them know, and laughed when the woman asked for any distinguishing marks on the car. I told her it was dragging a fence. Then we went home and played a videogame and went to bed.

Sunday we went to see the boy's mother and went for lunch then I napped the whole way home. We got home late afternoon and sat in front of the television until I decided I needed to go to bed. There was a sleeping cat in my lap making me drowsy and I finally gave up around 9pm.

Great weekend, with another great one coming up. I have so much work to do, but I'm not complaining. Between my regular work and the magazine I'm editing plus my writing, I am going to need this long weekend to catch up on few things like sleep. And Descent.

The Friday Cometh...

The past few weeks have been a bit of blur. I am so mentally exhausted that I have been sitting here trying to write something smart and witty for the past few minutes and all I've come up with is the revelation that my cat might be gay. I've also realized that the magazine I'm editing is full of errors and it's making me want to curl up into a ball and cry. So, I'm editing hopeful writers' work and trying to be nice about it but the truth is, if you cannot string together coherent sentences and spell them correctly, perhaps you should focus your energies on schooling yourself in the literary arts before trying to sell your work. Just an idea.

On a completely different note, I am almost finished my story for the sci-fi magazine who wants to publish it. That's exciting, except I'm too tired to fully appreciate what that means: I'm breaking into a competely new writing genre. New to me, anyway.

Although things are busy, I am fairly happy and content with the way things are going. My work is good, my job is great, the boy and I just celebrated our one-year anniversary last week and I don't really have any complaints. None that are valid anyway. I will always find something to complain about if I look hard enough.

Until next time, stay frosty and watch your back. Samsquanches are afoot.