Monday, March 28, 2016

Cheesy grits

I have this rice cooker cookbook from that used bookstore that was closing. Got it for a dollar! The cookbook is very fun and inspirational to read but after a while, I start coming to the realization that the gist of it is basically: grain plus other stuff. Cook!

So I made grits for dinner, because I love grits, but I also put some little sausages in it and half an onion all chopped up and then after it was done, stirred in some goat cheese. Holy goodness, that was fantastic.

I love it that I constantly have to be reminded to mix foods together. I mean, ingredients. I tend not to mix up ingredients to cook them together into food. Silly bunny!

Mmm, good stuff. Plus squash, separately. Though there is a recipe for pumpkin grits in there. I thought about mixing the squash in too, but come on, there are limits! That would have been good, though.

Tonight I'm stretching a lot because yesterday I went for a walk with my brother and the kids to see a deer skellington in the woods, except the 4x4 trail on the power line cut was full of big pools of water we had to skirt, with partially frozen ground around them and ice in them, and anyway the gist of that is that on the way back, crossing the last one, I stepped on a piece of frozen turf that gave way into a total bottomless bot pit of doom!!! Black water and muck and it pulled my boot half off and hyperextended my foot!

As you know from previous readings in this here venue, I have some issues. Among them are especially: fear of being trapped. And of course I have a specific fear of rubber boots filling with water and trapping me. So I was wearing rubber boots! And the one that fell into the bog started to fill with water.

I escaped, so it's all okay, but oh man. I do not like terror. No I do not!

I fall all the time, so I'm not too scared of falling, but getting my foot trapped and also bottomless pits, hoo boy. Pits are a particular fear. Give me falling down with one foot trapped in a sucking bog with my boot filling with water and I am freaking out. Gah! Let's stop talking about this!

Maybe there's a good house that might work out? We shall see! I love it, but I have not seen it in person yet. I did a whole online application thing which feels very positive somehow. I like typing my income into forms, put it that way. I love my job for so many intangible reasons but the tangible ones are super good also.

Anyway let's not count any chickens but I sure do like those chickens that I can't count yet and hope that they become my awesome chickens of awesomeness.

What else is going on? Absolutely nothing! Oh I'm reading for school. So much bookery. The two books I just read both featured some kind of weird dead person body switching with a live person. How can there be two books with that? How come I read them back to back by pure chance? Why? One was on my book list but the other one I just picked up by chance in the YA section of the library when I went in to return a recalled book. I know!

Both dead person/live person switcheroos happened at the exact same point in the book, too, about nine tenths of the way in. Maybe nine point five.

I get a little weirded out by inconsistent magical realism. Like, normal normal normal (repeat nine times) and then WOO suddenly some weird magical body switching thing from heaven, like, where did that come from? How come it only happened that once and never before or after? What the what, people?

I really like my imaginary stuff to be reasonably consistent. You can't just be all la la la do whatever any time. Things need to HANG TOGETHER.

I'm avoiding my own writing assiduously. Oh heck, I just realized this second that I got my feedback and did not read it yet. It's too late tonight! I'm having serious sleeping issues lately and cannot add any destabilizing elements this late in the day.

I'm hoping that I'll find a place very soon and get myself moved in and get to relax into settling down and getting myself all homey and rootful and concentrationville.

Could mean a huge burst of physical activity where I move the whole heap of everything in two days. That would be great! No worries! It's just a little stressful not knowing, see? Like, what if it's Thursday? I would pack up all my clothes and things now. What if it's a month later? I know!

It's bad enough that I couldn't color the Easter eggs because my food coloring is all packed up. But then I got brown eggs, because when you go buy eggs at like 10:30 the night before Easter, you get brown eggs. Brown eggs are all kinds of pretty oranges! They're so nice! And now I can make pumpkin pie. Yum! Feeling the need for pumpkin pie.

Yes, the limbo is wearing on me, it's true. Hoping for the end of the limbo!

That's why I'm getting all my reading work done right now, so it's finished up and I'm good to go. What else should I read? What else is going to fling surprising dead/alive people switcheroos at me at nine and a half tenths of the way through the book?

I read The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma and then The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Both amazingly good! Both with surprisingly inconsistent magical realism. Isabelle Allende is the one who spoiled me for all other flaky magical realism wielders. She's so good! I should go read some more of her books.

I was just learning about open and closed mysteries and I cannot for the life of me remember where. Where did I read that? Huh? Anyone?

So anyway I hope I have good news soon. I realize I'm living in a total bubble bath of good news all the time these days, between the awesome job and awesome school and living in the lovely house by the ocean and all that. Yay! I have to get settled down a little bit more, though. This is stupidly stressful. It is! Plus I want to paint, but I'm positive that as soon as I paint anything I'll need to move and it'll get everywhere all smeary. Noooooo!

Mmmm, paint. I'm absolutely lusting after oil paint these days. I really want to paint. And play my French horn. And quilt. I can't seem to do any of that stuff because I'm on flipping tenterhooks about my life needing to get its pieces in place. Gaaah!

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Twelve to fifteen

Oops, that sounds like jail time, but it isn't, I swear! I need to write twelve to fifteen reading commentaries, I realized, which divided by five is three if you go by fifteen, overachiever that I am, but it could also be twelve if I find myself completely unable to get the fifteen done, I guess?

I have a broken bone in my foot, but it's one of those bones you kind of don't have to worry about too much, one of those small rock type bones. This is what I'm telling myself. 99% of the time I manage to forget about it but today I wore my beloved brown Doc Marten slip on elastic paneled hard soled boots and WOW am I feeling that, holy goodness. I spent most of my time barefoot or at least merely besocked and most of the rest of the time in shoes that are barely more than slippers. Sometimes I'll put on boots or sneakers to walk the pupper. Something about those boots must have hit just the wrong way.

Oh oh oh, remember when I went out to Marden's in December and it was a miracle because I got all these ridiculously great J. Jill clothes for very little money? It happened again! I know! Insane, right? This time it was spring and summer clothes, too. I can't even tell you what I got. Because I don't know. Much of it is still downstairs waiting to be washed but a lot has been washed and is hung up all over the room full of exercise equipment that it's too crowded to use because I haven't had time to take the old daybed apart yet. Gaaaaah!

There is no time. It's 11:30 at night and this is my first break. I meant to drive over to Waterville for recon today but when I woke up I realized I would never ever get my stuff done if I didn't stay home. Laundry, for instance. It's been two weeks since I've done laundry. I can go practically forever, but there's only skivvies for about two and a half weeks. When I got down there, I discovered that I did actually run a batch of laundry and ran it through the dryer, but left it in there for a week. Dry, fortunately.

Failure to cope is what I'm saying. I mean, I'm fine, but I'm running as fast as I can and not keeping up with everything. Though today I did bake those oatmeal scotchies that I've been meaning to bake for ages, mostly to use up baking supplies. The butter has been softening in the mixer since, I don't know, Tuesday? With the crock pot lid over it to keep the mice out.

Sometimes cat and dog and I are sitting here together peacefully and there's all sorts of activity in the kitchen. I say, "Kitty! That's your cue!" and he gets up and goes in there, but only manages to catch and kill the mice at night. I mean, at night when dog and I are asleep in the bedroom.

These J. Jill clothes, I tell you what. First of all, the original prices are ludicrously high. I don't understand how anyone pays that for clothing. They are nice, and well made, and so on, but seriously, ridiculous prices. So the marked down prices are just what I consider reasonable to pay for clothes. The cashier and I tried to average out the percentages I was paying today, but some are 25% and some more like 12%. Somewhere in between there. Which means I got thousands of dollars worth of clothes if you consider the original prices real.

Do people actually buy thousands of dollars worth of clothes that are not bejeweled gowns but just linen tops and tunic-length t-shirts and nice sleeveless dresses and linen pants? (I got a lot of stuff.) And nubbly sweaters? I really like the nubbly sweaters. I mean the yarn is variable thickness such that the surface is nubbly.

I have to get rid of a ton of stuff now. No doubt there is a ton of stuff I never wear, though. It'll be great! ONCE THERE'S TIME.

I actually went into Marden's for dog food, but they didn't really have any. Then I thought I'd just walk by the clothes to see whether the J. Jill miracle could possibly repeat itself and lo!

There are no houses to rent, woe! I'm looking and looking. Actually most of the ridiculous ones disappeared, the ones that were scams. I guess someone cleaned up the site. I got the local paper today so I'll look at that tomorrow.

Lately I'm having the urge to become a vegan except with cheese. In other words, not a vegan. Oh and butter. Okay, meat and white dairy products are grossing me out, put it that way. But don't try to take my horseradish cheddar. I don't know what happened but it does seem to happen every so often. Just looking at cottage cheese or sour cream makes me super nauseous, almost exactly the way eggs do.

That's another reason to bake cookies. Uses up the eggs! Though probably pumpkin pie is up next.

Eggs are okay as ingredients where you can't see or taste them, though I really dislike the process of cracking them and getting the disgusting goo out and into my food. Oh dear me no. That is VILE. Sometimes you get it on your HANDS. Bleagh!

Lately for entertainment I've been watching TED talks, like during meals, because heaven forbid I should go a minute without a screen in front of my face. Mostly they're awesome, though. Today I watched three. The first one was a very sweet man with a therapist voice who talked about a study that showed that if you are alone you'll get sick fast and die young. Yay! The next one was about how not having close friends is worse for you than smoking. Awesome! Then there was one by Andrew Stanton which was not a good presentation but contained really good insights about story which I can't quite remember right now.

That was while I was making salad and baking cookies. They're short.

Anyway it might be worthwhile to look up the Andrew Stanton one as long as you're forewarned that he isn't a great speaker and comes across as kind of an entitled smug dick. He probably isn't! But he comes across that way. He knows an awful lot!

The last time someone asked me out was during a Brad Bird talk so I was looking around, all set, but then I remembered I live in utter isolation, by choice.

It's a little panicky feeling that I can't find a place to rent when I've been looking since January. What on earth is a person supposed to do in that case? I don't know either!

My legs are utterly freaking out, whether from walking around in stores in those unforgiving boots or eight million trips carrying laundry up and down the stairs or I don't even know what. They are just spazzing out, all stabbing pains and sudden jerks and failure to work properly. Cut it out, legs! I'm also totally allergic to something or other, probably the salsa that was in the enchiladas, now that I think of it. I finished them at lunch today so presumably I will not be covered in tiny hard painful itchy bumps for much longer? Please? Benadryl with a benadryl chaser!

Ugh, I was picking the chicken out of the enchiladas and giving it to the cat and dog, who enjoyed it very much indeed. I'm going to have to eat vegetables and grain (and cookies and cheese) like a confused vegetarian for a while, or possibly forever, or at least until I go on a road trip and get super hungry. Or until I forget, which will probably come first, let's be honest.

Not to mention that there's a half gallon (or actually that smaller quantity that they use now) of ice cream in the freezer at this very moment.

Okay, cheese, cookies, and ice cream, but that's it! Otherwise totally vegan! Except for the eggs in baked goods! And butter, especially on popcorn!

Maybe I'll just take this puppy dog and go to bed and see what work I can get done on reading commentaries tomorrow, except I actually work half a day tomorrow and have a ton of work to do for that. Everything else is done and spruced up and ready to go, though. So yay for that! Accomplishment!

Wednesday, March 16, 2016


Dramatic renewal of purpose! I had to do that thing. You know that thing?

Here is how you do that thing:

Imagine a great life. Like, a realistically great life. Maybe it has parts from things you have or used to have.

Then figure out how you get it. Realistically, again. Not like someone drops a bale of hundreds on your head. That would hurt! Ow. Okay, if they fluttered down in a picturesque manner and it was a low wind situation with nobody else nearby, maybe. Otherwise, figure out the practical steps.

So what I want is a small town with a small liberal arts college in it, except not where the students are obnoxious and all over the place. The way to get that is to finish school and get my terminal degree. The way to do *that* is, unfortunately, not to take off for distant parts, at least not for another year. I need that moving money to pay for school!

That answers that, huh?

And then I went looking around for somewhere that closely fits my bill nearby. There is a town! It's two hours from here. It's not that far from the fam. It's 15K people more or less. The students live on campus.

Seriously, that felt like someone was pandering to me when I read that. Are you kidding me? They all live on campus? Apparently nearly all of them do. COOL. Because as much as I love college students--a lot--I do not want to live with them. They are loud and clueless about their effects on others.

Anyway, I instantly felt much better once I figured that out. Boy do I want to keep going to school! I love school. I have to get a bunch of that done tonight, come to think of it.

I'm pretty good at looking at pros and cons and striking off anything that I can't possibly know or predict, or that I am only predicting out of negativity and feeling of DOOM. So basically about people. I can't make decisions based on what people might or might not do because a) people are all over the map behaviorally and b) I'm not rational about people because see a). It's okay if I'm aware of it. It just means I can't include people either positively or negatively on my pro/con list.

So guess what, I made awesome spinach/chicken enchiladas and they're five minutes from being done and I am SO EXCITED about that! Hot food! Not ramen! I've had so much trouble with my legs going bananas since I got the fricking ramen! Never again!

About moving, the longer I can wait, the better off I'll be, but oh oh oh, the stress. We shall see.

Last night I moved furniture around in the one big room I spend all my time in. It made such a difference. There are sort of zones that imitate rooms now. Also I can sit with my back against the back of the day bed to watch tv. Comfort! It's good. My back isn't killing me today, and that's after a massive Bones marathon last night. Hello, down with pain!

Yes! Now I just have to find a place in a place where there are places to find. I have to go there, too, to look around and discover for example: is there a paper mill, all smelly? And so on. Discovery!

Enchilada time. Gotta go!

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Bears, man.

I don't even know! I'm being useless, except at eating everything in sight and becoming spherical. I absolutely rock at that lately.

Deciding what to do, though, yikes. I am just in the worst quandary. Not even one quandary. Whole shoals of quandaries leaping through the sea. Which is being very loud and splashy outside the window right now, quite dramatic, slightly alarming, all heaving gray waves smashing white on the shore.

It's just that I remembered that I was so excited to move out to Salem, to be near the highest concentration of old friends of mine. I only ever saw two and then they turned on me. Remember that Thanksgiving? Yeah. So I don't know if moving somewhere to be near old friends is a very smart idea is all I'm saying.

This is different though because my old friends are like HELL YEAH MOVE HERE I CAN'T WAIT. Which is not what they were saying in Salem. They were saying: [      ] Absolutely nothing. That looks like a box to check off, doesn't it? Place an X here for absolutely nothing.

There are a kazillion more places for rent out there. It's all very doable. I'm looking into renting an RV to drive out and zoom around looking at places and visiting friends. It would be so fun! And if the whole thing looks like it would not pan out, I'm not committed or anything. Though given how few places there are here--many fewer every day--I don't exactly know how I could stay here. There is NOWHERE. At least within an hour or so of my brother and his family, which is why I'm here.

Like, why live in Calais or wherever? I know, I'm getting into weird existential areas. Why live anywhere? What's the point? I have answers, though! I like large bodies of water to watch and be awed by and paddle around on in boats. That is a reason to live somewhere. I like woods to walk around in with my dog. I like sitting outside in a blue plastic adirondack chair with my dog on my lap, both of us sniffing the breeze. I like lack of cars and planes and trains.

I would stay in this house if I could, just to avoid having to deal with moving and finding a place and all that. But really this house is seriously awkward. The one big room is all windows and doorways. I've never seen a room with so few walls. The walls there are have baseboard heaters. It's just insanely awkward to put anything anywhere.

I keep thinking about how nice a regular house with walls would be. Like, rooms with walls! Though I love the walls of windows, obviously.

Then I keep having to consider TOWNS. With people and cars and radios and tv noise and people and more people and screaming kids and just people all around. People stress me out so much. I guess it's hard to convey how stressful I find people. Imagine that every time you see a person, I see a bear. Okay? Like that. They are terrifying and dangerous and unpredictable. Why would you go live in the bear enclosure in the zoo?

I'd rather have real bears than people. Real bears, as scary as they are, do not deliberately hassle me. They run away!

But I'm definitely in need of people, the good kind, the kind I want to hang out with. They all have busy lives and families and no doubt no room for me, though--that's the thing, people have lives! I mean, I don't, but everyone else does. They have work and children and spouses and dogs.

I try to picture how I'd feel if a psychologically damaged old friend I hadn't seen in many years wanted to move to town to live near me. I guess I'd feel worried that it would be a giant burden and a giant drag. And an extra responsibility. It's true, I'm not doing super well, see above re: bears. But a lot of that is from being all solitary 100% of the time. Okay, 99.95% of the time. I see the kids for an hour once in a while. I'm not invited over to their house. I don't get a say in when I see the bunch of them or where or for how long.

Which is why I have to get out of here. Maine is so ungodly exclusionary, so very local and turned inward. They really, really do not need or want anyone they don't already have. I know this is true for lots of places around the country, mostly the beautiful rural areas where I would want to live, alas.

I'm in eighteen million quandaries here, but I guess I can do this road trip if the RV rental isn't too ruinous. I got all mad at Maine again because I tried to find a local RV rental place and I can't even tell whether I did or not. There's an RV place that comes up in the nearest town of any size, but I don't know if they rent and I literally cannot tell from searching online. I will have to call them, which I don't want to do because it's such a stupid question, because what kind of business doesn't even have a website? A LOCAL one that deals with local people who already know everything about it, that's what kind.

I got all aggravated, didn't I? Yes, I did! I'm so mad that I have to call them to find out if they even rent RVs out. Jeez.

I want to live near friends. I want to go to a knitting group every week and eat a cookie and have some tea. I want a good library full of books. I want to have a writing group. I want to work with the library as a literacy volunteer. I want to work with the local foster group as an advocate. I want to mow the grass and get the mail out of the mailbox and rake the leaves and shovel the snow and do all that life stuff.

Maybe I should contact my godparents, who live right in that same area as my two friends who are like HELL YES MOVE HERE. I want to see them anyway when I drive out there.

RV! So tempting, huh? You know I have these RV fantasies anyway. Home on wheels! Self-contained travel unit! Comfy for dog and cat! Kitchen, bed, bathroom! Like a little spaceship! I can't sleep in motels anymore. I mean, I just don't sleep. Though I sure did in the nice hotel in Oregon for school, but that was when I was surrounded by my colleagues on all sides. I wasn't on my own.

Oh! And I have to decide by April 1st whether I want to take a semester off school, which I don't, but I probably will have to anyway because of moving, especially if I move out there. Though I don't know, maybe they let you pay during the semester and not all in one blob at the beginning? I would have to ask. Moving is so dang expensive. And so emotionally exhausting, I tell you what. Figuring all this out is wrecking me sixteen kinds of ways. Especially since it kind of depends on some people wanting me around. I do not feel that is dependable! I mean, historically it absolutely is not. In fact I can only depend on people not wanting me around, historically. So that feels like the most enormous gamble on terrible odds. Even though they said they do! Oof.

Bears, man.

Uncomfortably numb

I think it was all the writing, which took place at the dining room table. Maybe? My legs got all puffy and weird and then my hands and feet went numb and then my ankles and wrists went numb, too. Actually it could have been from the ramen because I'm probably allergic to some alien substance in it. Mmmm, noodles, though. Why are those noodles so much better than any other noodles?

My hands and feet and wrists and ankles are back at about 30% of normal. I've gone back to the standing desk even though it's kind of excruciating because I suspect sitting makes it all much worse. GLORIOUS I tell you. Just full of glory!

So to distract myself from my nonexistent extremities I've been watching lots of Leverage commentaries (I think eight in a row one night!) and catching up on Bones, and then I got the new season, too, which I just finished. Nooo, Aubrey! Nooooooo, Hodgins! Ack!

There were such great and creepy things, like when I recognized Jared from his skull. I love that. They actually made a skeleton to match the actual skeleton of the guy who plays Jared! It was so good that even though I had no idea which way the episode was going, when I saw the skull I said, "That's Jared." I know!!!

I mean, it was also slightly telegraphed in that everything was so utterly Boothy but I knew they couldn't kill off actual Booth.

I've also been just ungodly cold, like so cold all over that nothing will warm me up. I'm actually that way right now, numb from the knees down even though the room is warm, I'm under a quilt with the dog sleeping against my leg, in a sweater and turtleneck etc. I'm shivering. It's quite annoying in someone who never, ever gets cold, let me tell you.

Anyway maybe now that my extremities are growing back like lizard flippers maybe I can get back to writing things.

In about the past two days I've suddenly come up with a plan to move to a different place which shall remain nameless until my plans get finalized. WE SHALL SEE. You know I have this problem with coming up with geographical solutions for socialization problems, or something. Well, yes, basically that. I don't leave the house, and then I don't meet anyone or integrate at all, and then I'm like, "Screw this place, I have no friends here!" and then I move far away.

It's idiotic and also a lot of work. But I have to move anyway, so. I don't know. I cannot find a place to live around here. There are only places in towns, and only in towns that are full of bath salts crazed belligerent shirtless meth heads. Anyway I don't want to live in a town even if it's full of nice people who go to bed at 9:00 and keep their shirts on. 

Well, there is a giant ridiculous horse farm type place for $1400/month, or else mobile homes in trailer parks. But nothing reasonable in between. I puzzled about why the state of Maine was persecuting me so, until my neighbor corroborated that they can't find a place either, and I realized it's just a terrible, terrible market.

Then I thought I'd call my old landlord, the one the mold remediation guy called "a notorious slumlord," and then realized that that was a terrible business relationship, and also I had to get the mold remediation guy in to make that rental a habitable non-superfund site. SO.

Ugh! I tried to go do normal socialization stuff on Saturday. Marden's closes at 5, so I wasn't able to get the duffel bags I wanted. Then I went to Governor's (this is all super Mainey downeasty stuff) for dinner and that was fine and everyone was dressed like me and all that, except then the waitress rang up my card for someone else's bill for $20+ more, and then I told her, and she went and supposedly fixed it and I signed for the right amount, but it's still on my account. So I called today (Monday) and the super nice manager said she would reverse it tonight. I totally expect that both amounts will get reversed and I'll have to go in there and pay it again or something. She was SUPER nice to do that but what a hassle.

I love how I totally draw a moral from it, like: See what happens when you try to do normal stuff! One thing goes wrong and I'm like That's it! I'm leaving the state!

Anyway since then I've been working like a maniac for work, with the working. Work! It's great.

And packing and unpacking. I think I got all the house's kitchen stuff unpacked, though it looks like far too little so I have to go searching around the basement for more. I keep packing as much of my own stuff as I can. Like the pie plates, which now I don't have to make pie in. Whoops! I have a deep dish casserole type thing that will work, though. I like pumpkin pie without the crust. I found three cans of pumpkin and three cans of that milk when I pulled everything out of the lower cupboards today, so it's pie time!

Except tonight when I wanted to watch more Boneses and make pie, the iPad insisted it was too full to be able to play any more episodes. Deleting everything did no good. Then I tried to back it up to my laptop and copy all the photos and stuff but it absolutely would not do it no matter what I tried.

It's like that lately. I don't even get smashy anymore. I just get grumpy. So anyway it let me watch seven and a half episodes, which by the way do not download but sort of stream through itunes, but the second half of the seventh was An Episode Too Far and it was just like NOPE. I'M DONE. NOT GONNA DO IT.

I also can't really sleep, partly because I can't get warm, and then when I do sleep, HORRIBLE nightmares, so we've had some very late nights around here lately. Tonight I'll probably try having a hot bath to defrost my legs and hands. And then have another xanax to see if that helps. I can't stress enough how comfortably warm it is in here, and how much I've been up and about and doing things. Like, I have not been sitting still and getting chilled. It's so flipping weird.

I guess the uncertainty about where I'll be living is really getting to me, huh? I don't know how that can set off The Thing that makes my arms and legs not work, but nobody actually seems to understand The Thing very well anyway. It can manifest all different ways whenever it wants. Whoopee!

Guess what, I kind of forgot to keep up with my reading for school, whoops! It's due in a week. I have the writing, for sure, but have to knock down two more books. Easy, for me. Just gotta get it done.

Actually I don't think my hands and feet (and forearms and calves and things) are cold. I think they're numb and it translates into cold. Because I can touch them and they don't feel cold at all. Like if I put my hand to my forehead, my hand doesn't feel cold.

The last fezzes in the basement are the tools, the heaviest ones, but that's the last three. I'm so psyched about how well the tiny spare room has worked out as a staging ground for my move! Next up is stuff like taking apart the day beds, but not until I'm closer to go time. The goal was not to have to haul all those fezzes up the stairs at once and make my brain explode. So well done, me!

I got to go birthday present shopping for my brother and sister on Saturday. That was totally fun. Now I have to mail some stuff out, as soon as I finish another hat for Afghans for Afghans. Yes, I'm knitting hats again, so fun! I like it. I like these small, self-contained projects that use up the smaller amounts of yarn I have around. They basically take leftover yarn plus stress and convert them both into hats.

Actually here's another thing I'm mystified about. The season one dvds of Leverage supposedly have commentaries, but I cannot find them anywhere. Like, they should not be hard to find, right? They should be in the dang menu. Nope! Where? Where? Where are they? Where? I even checked the order from Amazon and it says there are commentaries. What the what? That is *entirely* why I spent the eleven dollars, you know! Like I was all resigned that oh, I had gotten the wrong ones, I'd have to buy another set, but when I checked, nope. My set should have them.

I may not be operating at maximum smartypants right now, is all I'm saying. Maybe a slight electrical storm in the brainbox. What a great time to be making huge, life altering plans! Yay!

One of the really good effects of unpacking the house stuff into the cupboards is that my stuff is out and about, like all the fezzes of grain are now on the counter, all neat and orderly. And so I keep on eating all the grain! Mmmm. I had grits for dinner. I absolutely ADORE grits. Yum. Look out, brown rice! You're next! So good.

Well, stay tuned, who knows what will develop next. Dun dun! Next time!

Friday, March 11, 2016

Compiling: quaff!

I think it was less than a week ago that I decided to shift the bookmaking into high gear. A week? Not even? I'll just say: it's working out really well. I think I had 30,000 words or so and now I have around 50,000. Wait, I just checked. 52,362.

It's not new writing. Some is. But mostly I've been going through the chopped up bits of novel that I pulled everything apart into (oh dear) last fall and fixing them up, figuring out where they go, and putting them there. That is a ton of work, true! But it's glorious to be getting it done. It's addictive, not just because the word count keeps jumping like crazy, but because I'm moving toward A FULL DRAFT.

A full draft with issues, granted. There's a whole murder that might get taken out of the book. That would have massive ramifications and would mean taking out blocks of stuff and replacing it with other stuff. Probably much more interesting stuff. So. I don't know.

Both mentors have said to axe it, so I might kill the murder. We'll see. They're only super smart professional writing teachers and published writers and stuff!

It's such a pleasure to get a lot of this stuff done. Seriously. It's like it's been on my plate but I've been waiting to get to it, out of a misguided feeling that I should only do what I need to do for school. I mean, I really do need to focus on doing what I need to do for school, but I can do this also, because it helps.

UGH, my hands and wrists are numb as I'm writing this and it's driving me crazy. Such a gross feeling, all rubbery. My feet and ankles are numb too. I'm pretending as best I can that it's not happening. Lalalalalalalala! I think it's just the thing that I have that I forget about and pretend I don't have until it rears its ugly head. Or else WebMD is right and I have frostbite. (I do not have frostbite, you genius diagnostician software you.)

Pizza crust is rising for pizza tonight, mmmmm.

Anyway yes! Compiling the book! Putting the pieces back together again! It's just astonishing to me how different everything is from the first version. How can everything go in a different order? But there isn't one way to tell a story. Writing is complicated!

I'll tell you what, though. This was by far the messiest, most chaotic, most disastrous partial draft of anything I've ever written in the whole history of ever, which is why I wanted help with it. So everything else should be orders of magnitude easier to manage even just on the level of What Happened.

I want this draft to be done by the end of the semester, which sounds so far away, but it's what, March 11th? Okay, two heart attacks: one, my work is due March 20th, not March 30th like I thought. Two, my last packet is due May 8th.

This is why I'm doing all this now, though. Three blocks of 15 pages left to go. That's only 45 pages of stuff. On the really good positive side, though, that's about how much brand new material needs to be added on to get me to a complete draft! I already wrote this month's allotment. Thirty pages to wrap up the whole story? I mean, I think I could. I probably can. There's no actual need to do that, though. Ten pages is about 3300 words, I guess? Yeah, no, I'm going to need more than that.

Rather than going by what's due, which is pretty arbitrary after all and bears no relation to what the novel needs, I'm just going to keep going and finish the thing as soon as I can.

I was going to use Camp NaNoWriMo to urge me on to the end. I already set it up with 40,000 words to write in April! But that's when I had 30,000 words done, a couple of days ago. Heh. That's exactly when I realized: much of the rest of this is already written, so let's get that sorted out and done so I can focus on what is actually missing from the story.

And the rest is history. So, what, I probably have another 10-20K words waiting to get diced up and properly placed in the draft, from the chopped up pieces. Which puts me at about 70K. Which really only leaves room for 10K more to be written. Oh, I guess that's about 25 or 30 pages, isn't it?

I can do that.

Guess what I love? FINISHING DRAFTS.

I love how writing gets harder the longer I do it. Brilliant. Awesome. Everyone always says so, but I didn't believe it one bit.

Let's finish the book! With my rubber wrists! I dropped a glass lid into the sink and made a giant crash but it didn't smash, hurray! This is why we don't use glasses around my house, except that I bought a box of 12 glasses when my cousin was here and I've been using them since. I hope they don't all get broken. Or any of them, really. They're so nice and heavy and have wavy patterns on them.

Actually, let's make pizza, then put in a Leverage dvd so I can listen to the John Rogers commentary, awesome! Let's have a celebratory beverage more dramatic than my delicious cran-cherry juice! Here's to writing and writing and more writing! Quaff!

Tuesday, March 8, 2016


I didn't even hope for this, but guess what? I got a reprieve from the realtor visit this weekend! They're not coming until April. YAY! That takes my week's stress down quite a few notches, let me tell you.

I did some chapter marking kind of work in the novel draft. I don't even know what to call that kind of thing. I made up this outline, right? And I broke it into reasonable chapters, I thought. But the actual novel was in chapters twice as long. So today I went through and made the outline chapters real in the book. Except some of them came out sort of dumb in terms of size or tension so I changed them and changed the outline to match them.

It's all basically structural thinking that needed to be done. And now the result is one big happy second draft as far as it exists right now, which means I can look at my daily word counts and keep track and be sure to get myself on target for 2000 words a day or whatever. More, lately. All that is very good because I am gunning for a finished draft sooner rather than later.

Tonight after work and after dog walk I had to go out to the store after all of my delaying tactics were overthrown by running out of toilet paper. Then I was in the store and my list said "veg" so I looked at the veg and all I wanted was something green and crunchy. I brought home a bag of three hearts of romaine, a head of celery, and a cucumber, which certainly fits that brief.

Then the lettuce looked so insanely good that while my boughten pizza was cooking, I ripped up one whole head into a bowl and put salt and pepper on it and ATE IT ALL. Bowl of lettuce! Normally I'd say that is not a food worth acquiring or eating, but oh boy, it was insanely good. It was exactly what I wanted. Crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch.

Dressing is vile so I usually just go without it, but then one day I discovered the salt and pepper option. It's so good. You can use oil and vinegar or whatever too, but plain salt and pepper is best. Yum. Actually that's how I prepare a lot of cooked veg, too.

I was listening to a story on the radio about heroin addicts and thinking about that girl I worked with who was one and how she carried around her Narcotics Anonymous book everywhere, at least until she swapped it out for needles and heroin, whoops. So then I was curious what those programs are all about. Like, how do they work? And then I wondered how Overeaters Anonymous works, since the other programs are all about admitting you're powerless to stop drinking or whatever. I mean, you still have to eat, see what I mean? Mostly they're about NOT DOING IT EVER but the overeaters program must allow eating, I'm positive.

Anyway I looked at the site but a) massive religious content, yuck, and b) they want you to buy the dang book, nope.

I'm still curious, though. How do you admit you're powerless over tuna sandwiches and then still have tuna sandwiches? It would be like if AA taught you moderate drinking or NA taught occasional recreational drug use. I don't know. I'm puzzled.

Sad thing is, at times I've worked in offices full of mental health professionals who know the answer to this question, but I hadn't thought to ask it yet.

Great, now I'm hungry.

Just kidding! Now I want heroin. Definitely kidding! Do not want!!!

You know what I do want? A good night's sleep! Last night should have been great, but I had terrible nightmares and woke up in serious pain several times, not sure what that's about, and was awake off and on most of the night, until it got light out. Very bad night! Terrible nightmares are terrible, too. Dear oh dear. What on earth set that off? Was it watching Hot Fuzz? There is a lot of silly gore in that. My brain is not good at distinguishing silly gore from real You Are In Danger gore. AT ALL. So maybe. Even though I've seen it a dozen times or more.

I hope I bought proper food. I know I got a pack of ramen, inexplicably. And pepperoni for the upcoming pizza I'm making Friday or whenever. I don't even know.

I don't know if it's from finishing the cereal and soy milk or what, but my circulation or blood pressure or something has been completely all over the map, totally swollen ankles one day, plus freezing hands and feet, then totally fine in both areas the next. I don't get it. Settle down, whatever is doing that! I suppose it could be from this dumb cold I have? I have no idea, though I did read that ibuprofen can cause swollen ankles. I've been taking it lately for screaming knee pain. Anyway I think the best solution is to go to bed and see what's going on in the morning.

There was the most tremendously low tide today, to the point where I was craning my neck to look out to the Atlantic to see whether a tsunami was coming. It was not. In case you were wondering. What on earth causes that? I have to read up on tides and see where the water goes when it's not here. Seriously. Is it up the Bay of Fundy? Is it out bulging up the ocean a little bit? Not just the cove but the whole bay was dramatically low, so I could see whole small islands and huge collections of boulders that are usually under water even at low tide.

Today I got to write the "tour" of the big old house in the book I'm writing, the house that's at the center of it all. It feels like this has been years in the making, because it has, absolutely. There are other parts I can bring in that are already written to go after this, but this part needed to be done. It also makes it clear how much of our heroine's life is wrapped up in her family saga, such that she knows all about her great-great-aunts and all their children and families like she's an obsessive fan. Which I guess she is.

It's so funny to write things that are just whatever unspools from my brains and then realize that these things sound like Clues and Foreshadowing and then of course I decide that they might as well be, so now I know that someone will drop something upstairs and it will alert our heroine and others that Something Is Amiss.

Right? I know!

In tangentially related story-studying news, I totally want the Leverage dvds so I can listen to the commentaries. John Rogers is flipping awesome, for one thing. I've just seen him described as the anti-Moffat because he's so unsexist and such a good feminist writer. Like for example, I'm totally cribbing this from the source on Tumblr because I can't find it, he never ever has any female character be a damsel in distress, not even the 12 year old girl in one episode. Anyone in danger is instrumental in his or her own rescue. That's a POLICY. I love that! And I noticed myself ages ago that one sign of evil in characters is being sexist or misogynistic, or often even objectifying women. If someone objectifies women, he's evil. If a guy looks at someone's butt, he's doomed by the end of the episode, 100% of the time.

I wish The Librarians wasn't so silly and goofy, but I'll still watch it again at some point. Isn't it wonderful to live in a world where there will be future John Rogers television projects to watch? I know!!!

I wonder what Overeaters Anonymous would say about drinking a lot of cran-cherry juice in one evening. How much is okay? How much is too much? Who decides? What are the criteria? Is it a vague and woolly set of rules? The site even says that they help people who are obsessive calorie counters and fasters, too, but how can you do both? I'm so curious now. Maybe I'll look into it more. They've got me wondering.

What would they say about my big bowl of lettuce? It's a puzzle!

I think if running amok means eating a bowl of lettuce and drinking cran-cherry juice, I'm probably okay.

Monday, March 7, 2016


Gosh, I got all irritated because people kept saying triquetral wrong on Bones, not like Dr. Brennan always says it, and then I just looked it up and oh...she was saying it wrong before. I trusted you, Dr. Brennan! She always said it with the que like in Spanish. Nope!

I decided to catch up on Bones today after watching all of Don't Trust the B in Apt. 23 last night and today. Basically I just melted down because I was exhausted and stressed out and worried about the housing situation and all that, and then found out about the caucus just a day before it happened.

As usual I got excited about going and then got utterly freaked out and terrified of it, partly because my tank was empty already from all the worrying and packing and searching for houses and stuff. And then when I tried to do my school work, it wasn't working, like, to the point where I'd just sit there flipping out unable to do anything. Ugh! What a wretched situation.

Last week I watched all of Jessica Jones so I wanted more amazing Krysten Ritter please, hence Don't Trust the B. And oh what a good time I had watching that! It's brilliantly, wickedly funny. The characters are fantastic. The dialogue is so sharp and excellent that it made me burst out in shouts of laughter.

Consider if you will that I'd been playing solitaire all teary-eyed before that and you will see just how good the writing is on that show. So good!

There were things that grated a little bit, like the horrified "ugh!" expression that the blonde girl had as a default expression to the crazy Krysten Ritter character. But when it wasn't hitting that particular button, the show went in a million wonderful directions. What they did with James van der Beek alone was fantastic. I could complain about the cult of normalization and making Chloe move toward the mainstream instead of being her interesting self, but that's the essential subtext of comedy on television so never mind.

Anyway that was apparently exactly what I needed because my whole brain felt amazing watching that show. Not that I didn't love Jessica Jones, because I did, but it was VERY STRESSFUL and PTSD-y and scary and that kind of thing has me clutching the housepets with saucers for eyes instead of relaxing into it.

Also, that Krysten Ritter, my goodness. She is amazing both in drama and comedy and how many can say that? Like, she is absolutely top of the game in both. Who figured that out? Who would have looked at her playing Chloe and known she could play Jessica Jones? There is someone very very smart out there. It's as smart as casting Clark Gregg in drama when he had mostly done comedy.

I kept just feeling bad for her costar who's great but not earth-shattering, and also is like 5 feet and half an inch tall, working next to a six foot tall gazelle all that time. (I have no idea how tall she is. But that's what it looked like with them together.)

Anyway when that was over I was BEREFT because it sort of ends in the middle of a sentence, like it got cancelled on no notice or something, I don't even know. Hence the Bones watching.

Triquetral. It's a bone in the wrist. I just looked it up. They did finally talk about one phalange instead of multiple phalanges, so go team! And Brennan used a Greek plural that made me very happy.

Then I ran out of Bones because season 11 isn't on Netflix yet. Wait, are we still in it? We might be. I don't have television!

Look at me all watching two new shows in a week! Yay! Mmm, it's like someone stopped tasering my brain for a while. I could get used to that feeling! I do not know WHAT is wrong with my brains but if applying large amounts of delicious opiate of the masses fixes it, I am okay with that. Except I'm sad I missed the caucus.

I did not know what to expect from the caucus, seriously. AT ALL. Yes, it was a perfect storm of anxiety. Public location, unknown procedures, potential for crowds, possibility of vehemence from strangers. Yikes! I was up until 5 a.m. I had a bath because a shower was too alarming. (Tonight, too.) Come to think of it I should go to bed.

It should really be changed to opioid of the masses. Come on, now.

I did work this afternoon, so it's not quite like I've been loafing about jacked into the Matrix all weekend. Almost, but not quite. And dog walks! On the beach! I saw footprints on the beach by my house, down near where the creek meets the cove when the tide is low, and I went totally Robinson Crusoe because who else was on my beach that is totally public and has a whole lot of houses right on it? It was obviously my next door neighbor, on what I think must be only her second excursion down there. I thought that was so funny, though, that I was all "THE SIGN OF A STRANGER!!!"

Next Saturday the landlady and the realtor are coming. At this moment the cat has thrown up in all four rooms on this floor. I have no idea what might or might not be going on in the basement. I need to vacuum out of sheer self-respect and tidy up the tiniest room full of stacked up fezzes. And I might make sure to put my laundry out of sight. But otherwise I object on general principles to helping with anything to do with the process.

I keep thinking of the most obnoxious things I could do that I would never do, like cooking a big pot of beans and watching...I don't know, what would be the most obnoxious thing to be watching on TV when unwelcome people were walking through my house? What would Krysten Ritter's characters do?

The pounding bass is absolutely the gas fireplace, by the way. If I turn my head 90 degrees, it's clearly coming from the fireplace. Awesome.

I got pictures from the birthday shindig this weekend, including my mom with her infinity scarf draped over her head because she does not know how one works. Come to think of it, you could put it around your neck and over your head to stay warm. But probably not one giant loop hanging from the top of your head like a big circle around your face. I will get yelled at for sending presents at some point along the way here. That's standard. There's always something wrong or too much or not enough or I shouldn't be spending money because I'm too poor or whatever. Present backlash! It's a thing.

I'm less stressed now that that's over, though. And I guess I'm not getting the weird chimera house with the bizarre staircases? Which removes stress also because a) soon b) first, last, security, c) extremely dubious about that road and the proximity of neighbors and surveillance. I want a dead end road with very few neighbors and they cannot be looking at me. Also most places don't want first, last, and security. Also the rent was far too high for what you got. Also the carpet was gross. And these grapes are sour. Take them away!

So even though I'm almost fully packed and using spices out of a box of spice bottles and I've already spackled the nail holes and things, I might be staying put for a while longer. March, obviously. Maybe April and May also. Who knows? Nobody knows! Nobody knows anything!

There was a huge loud clanging from the kitchen where none of the three of us beings are. Mice, man! I picked up the cat for protection and went in there but we didn't see anyone. And then he scratched me for extreme presumption. Reasonable. The sound was what you'd get if a mouse stepped into one of those little stainless steel cat dishes on the counter. Except there aren't any on the counter. There's nothing on the counter that could have made that noise.

Now we have poltergeist mice on top of everything else, so yay. The dog and cat heard it too, though.

Right, to bed! It's supposed to be stupidly warm this week so I'm going to keep stripping and painting the trailer to get rid of the rust. Must acquire more black Rustoleum, though. Is it supposed to be like runny tar in a can? I think maybe this can has been around for too long and traveled too far. Pretty great texture, though. Just a little thinner than that caramel apple dip. A little thicker than honey. Definitely killed a paintbrush dead. 

Let's hope for good things from this week, eh? Okay!

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Modified yay?

It's one of those times when I am just running, running, running and I'm keeping up but oh it's making me all gloomy and grumpy! Like I'm getting it all done, mostly, not quite as fast as I'd like, and my own writing is definitely suffering from time pressure and lack of inclination to do anything but flump on the couch after a day of work. But it's getting done. Modified yay?

The packing is nearly done (=not as nearly done as I think, usually) and the unpacking is coming along fast too, meaning putting the house's stuff back into the cupboards in the kitchen as I get my stuff out and packed. It basically all sucks. Everything feels kind of sucky to the point where of course I tried to get a psychiatrist but failed to locate one that actually existed through the insurance site, and then asked my doctor's office to refer me, figuring they would know who was actually present and accounted for, only they referred me to a therapist in Bar Harbor.

There is nowhere I'm less likely to go on a regular basis than Bar Harbor. First of all there's some kind of reality vortex involved with Mt. Desert Island. Second there's only one road on and off the island, which makes me super tense even though the island is ginormous. It's much bigger than Manhattan, for example. (Wait, let me check how much bigger. MDI is 108 square miles. Manhattan is 33.77 square miles.) But Manhattan has all those bridges! And tunnels! Though there are many more people per square mile and per bridge/tunnel on Manhattan. But much worse size of island to exit ratio on MDI.

I'd be even more tense in Manhattan, believe me, because of the incredible number of people. But less likely to get lost, somehow. Grids! Handy!


I wouldn't go all the way to Manhattan for a therapist who isn't the psychiatrist I asked for either. Who would?

Oh oh oh, I'm having a low key panic attack this evening because my only upcoming [iteration] of [job] got cancelled so what does that even mean? Somewhere between absolutely nothing and DOOM, but I don't know where on the spectrum it falls.

You can tell it's low key because I got on the treadmill and did my incredibly pathetic two tenths of a mile at 3 mph before my legs seized up, and then I cooked dinner, mostly because I was craving the smell of onions cooking. Yes. Mmm, the smell of onions cooking!

I'm realizing thanks to the treadmill that although I walk all the time every day, I sort of trundle along in a meandering fashion and certainly do not go fast. Going fast gives my legs conniptions. I need to stretch more. I am stretching more! And I'm much better on the recumbent bike. I love that thing, man.

I keep hoping that my little dabs of exercise will help clean the jaggedy edges out of my head, but not so far, nope! Two tenths of a mile. That's like to the mailbox and back or something. Jeez!

Anyway I blame the Bangor Police Department, who said to get a ton of cereal for snow storms, except I got the soy milk too, which doesn't come shelf stable here--why not???--but with an expiration date, so then I was like, crap, now I have to eat all this cereal! And I sure did. Oh man. I finished it this morning and now I never, ever want to see cereal again. It's back to oatmeal in the rice cooker for me, I tell you what.

The cereal had all these added vitamins and things which utterly wrecked my bad kidney, too. So that hurts all the time and makes me even crankier. But then I'm also trying to take ibuprofen (spelled correctly for once) all the time so I can move instead of being seized up with pain from joints and whatever it is that makes my leg muscles all seize up. Anti-inflammatories for the win!

Speaking of inflammatory, The Evil One was in Maine today. I admit I was hoping to read in the news that some horrified party faithful person blew its nasty ugly empty head off, but nope, not yet. I guess It was down south, though. The south is all civilized and not solid with guns like up here.

I just fully expect that whole thing to go bang at some point, somehow, just blow up or collapse into disaster or I don't know what.

Also, you can blame or thank the Bangor PD for our utter lack of snow, too. It hasn't snowed since I bought all that cereal! That means it'll blizzard nonstop until spring now that the cereal is gone, right? This is the least snowy winter since forever, I bet.

San Francisco, 46.87 square miles. Burbank, 17.89 square miles. 

Anyway stretching and keeping at the little bits of exercise, that's the secret. Keep on doing that, me!

And keep off the dang cereal.

I went picking up trash over at Salt Pond Preserve, which sounds like terrible algae jam but is the birthplace of modern environmentalism. Yes, like those things where people get together and Clean Up The Whatever, except it was me and my dog and a trash bag and a wind storm and some heavy neoprene gloves I got a million years ago for kayaking in the cold weather. Beach trash, icky. I picked up a lot! Mission accomplished! Community service and whatnot! Gross!

Yesterday I mailed birthday presents to my mom and a housewarming present to my lovely manager person.

Another sign of elevated spaz levels is that I can hear thumping music almost beneath the level of hearing. Out here, that could be from a tv in a house 3/4 of a mile or a mile away across the water, because sound travels incredibly well across the cove and the bay. Like if someone talks over there, it sounds like they're ten feet away. Anyway the sound is probably there all the time, but tonight it's driving me bonkers. Which is why I have noise canceling headphones! Which are over there in the desk drawer! I'll go get them next time I get up, seriously, because I'm all jaggedy edges lately and about to smash things any time a zipper doesn't zip right the first time.

Today's heroic accomplishment: I found the five-part cable for the AppleTV even though I haven't used it for 13 months (according to AppleTV itself, which would know) and everything is packed AND it wasn't with the other wires where it was supposed to be. I shot my arms in the air and proclaimed myself a deity when I found that thing, let me tell you! It's the kind that has three video cables, blue, red, and green, plus red and white for audio. I know! Suffice it to say, I only have one!

Then I even figured out how you get new things from iTunes on AppleTV. I know, I am a miracle worker today. It's amazing. I did not get any, though. It's exciting to know that it's possible, though, eh? I'm holding on to all of my dollarses with tight little fists in anticipation of renting a new place soon, we hope? Though there are fewer all the time and the ones that are out there are ridiculously squalid hovels or gigantic horse farms, or else in town. Or else out of town where I can't get cable internet for work, so I can't live there.

To be fair, I have almost impossible requirements for housing. Far from people plus must have cable internet means there are not a lot of options. Zero in fact! Well, maybe one. But. I am not wild about it. But I am maybe halfway accepting? Grumpily? I don't know.

Ooh, then I look at the fistful of dollarses and think: I could go ANYWHERE with that. I could! I mean, I actually could do that. Scramming: it's feasible. I don't want to scram, though. I'm pretty much right where I want to be, except not in the house that's being sold out from under me, obviously, and I could do without the thumping bass, too, to be honest.

Sometimes I'm like WHAT IS THAT ANNOYING NOISE and it's me breathing or something. Heh.

Well, now that I've written all that out, I'm pretty proud of just getting my work done and getting the pragmatics of packing and shifting things around done (getting everything upstairs so I don't destroy my knees on moving day, for example) and maintaining basic survival skills like showering and laundry and avoiding too much discussion of The Evil One on the internet. Also today I ran across the term OT3 on Tumblr for the umpteenth time in reference to Eliot, Parker, and Hardison of Leverage and finally looked up what it actually means. It comes from OTP, one true pairing, only expanded into one true threesome, which is VERY hard to say out loud. Try it! I keep saying one two threesome by mistake.

The pictures and artwork are flipping adorable, that's all I can say. What a trio! I love it. And I love that the show completely plays into it. The show *ends* on it, for goodness sake. Hearts!

You have to focus on stuff like cleaning up historic environmental history locations and your favorite OT3 and taking pictures of blue gray skies reflected in water and snuggling some blond furry housepets and stuff like that, right? To file off the jaggedy edges? We can't predict what is going to happen and I don't think I can control what happens with [work] or even to a certain extent with housing. Jeebus.

Renting, man! A 5 bedroom place with a heated horse barn just came up for $1400 a month. Or you can get a tiny hovel with two tiny bedrooms for $1000 a month. Like, I just need roommates, except people bug the crap out of me even across the bay. Actually I strongly suspect that is my next door neighbors watching tv. Which means they can hear my Leverage marathons. Only I'm sure I don't have it on that loud, right?

Maybe I should contact the scammy looking rent to own places and see what they're all about, besides separating me from my fistfuls of dollarses, which they cannot because that's for school. Oooh, imagine if I still had this constant need to zoom away but couldn't because I owned a place! It would be the immovable object meeting the unstoppable force! Even now you know I look up from the computer and glance around the room, considering what furniture I could easily do without, and how many trips with the trailer it would take to mail all my books. (Two, unless I put solid walls in.)

I got out the wire brush for the drill, plus a paintbrush and the black enamel, to clean up and paint the trailer where time in the barn has caused bits of rust. Tomorrow if I get all my work done early enough I can get started, or else I can do it Saturday.

I would love to find out that the thumpy rumbly bass is actually the sump pump or the furnace or the fireplace pilot light or something. And this is with an anti-smash beverage! Imagine without it. Yes. I'm even tempted to go back on that medication that I stopped taking in the late fall, except you shouldn't do that without, you know, a doctor, preferably a psychiatrist, which brings me back to grrrrrrr. Okay, okay, I'll call them again tomorrow, even though a cell repeater or something has croaked because suddenly for the past few weeks my cell can't keep a call going and drops everything three times. Which is AWESOME.

So. I'll try to have good news next time, eh? Okay! It's a plan.