Any other world....

Nano is coming. I can feel it in my bones. I'm itching to write. Too bad I can't seem to conjure up a single bit of inspiration. That which keeps me calm and safe also makes it very difficult to be creative.

I have every writing book under the sun. My SARK books (replacements for copies long lost) should arrive tomorrow or so. I haven't written any fiction in months, and there is no excuse for it - I have all the time in the world, which at any other time would be a dream because I could do as much writing as I wanted, but....

The basic design of my website has been developed, but I haven't uploaded it yet. *sigh* I need to fix the links and test it. Hopefully have it up before the end of the month, because once November hits I'll be very busy.

panis et circenses

How much am I missing by not watching network television? I've always been more of a reader, and a bit out of step with popular culture. What little TV I watch has been Tivo'd - I haven't the slightest idea when shows are scheduled.

Matsu wa...

All day I've been a little irritable. I really want to roll out the website this weekend, but I'm so bad at programming that my coding is wonky and broken. John is so patient with me, but I'm a terrible shrew when I'm working on something like this. It's best if I can lock myself up in a room alone while I slog my way though the rest of the site. Probably...I won't get it up and running until next weekend.

Right now I have a little orange kitty draped across my body like a sash. He's so warm and soft....

Life with five cats

There are those who joke that we are the "crazy cat couple." I really don't agree with that, partially because it is my fault and not John's that we have five cats, and partially because I don't think that five cats counts as "crazy" territory. Sure, it's probably two or three more than most people would like to handle, and it does take a bit more work, but it's not in the range of, say, spending 10% of your budget on cat food or feeding hordes of ferals off your back porch. I consider it good training for when we have kids - we spend just enough of our time picking up after them, breaking up fights, and playing with them.

That said, the ownership of five cats has lead me to an interesting observation that I didn't have at four cats. Five cats in a three bedroom house means that, no matter what room you walk into, there is going to be a cat there. I'm not sure how this happens, because sometimes the room you are leaving has two or three in it, but the room you go into always has one. Currently there is one in the master bedroom, one in the living room, two in the dining room, and one in the study.

There is also a constant background of cat-related noises. Hiei cries. Kurama trills. Cassie meeps. Aden wails. Nibiki yowls. Sometimes it sounds like a kitty game of Marco Polo. We just purchased new living room furniture, and it only took about an hour for each cat to discover that there is a wonderous cavern under the new sofa. Yesterday was filled with random squeeks and squawks from under the sofa, plus the occasional cry from a cat who wormed his way in and turned around to find another cat blocking the entrance.

Life with five cats is usually quite entertaining, and I wouldn't trade them for the world.

And they wore their scars with pride.

Bridesmaid dresses. Sometimes they are bad, sometimes they are horrible, sometimes they are downright hideous. I can accept that. What I can't except is a total lack of a class of dresses I would call "modest." I was dress shopping with my bridesmaids this morning, and we could not find a single bridesmaid dress that I would feel comfortable asking someone to wear into a church! The vast majority of the dresses were strapless. The few that had straps all seemed to have plunging necklines. It was like a competition to find out what dress could expose the most skin and/or cleavage. In the end, we left without picking a dress.

Maybe it's just me. Goodness knows I have enough trouble finding feminine clothing for myself. On casual days I usually wear men's or unisex tee-shirts with pants or long cutoff shorts. Today for our shopping trip I threw on my only "female" tee-shirt, which I bought because they did not have the design in stock in the unisex tee. After we got to the shop I found myself absently tugging at the hem of the shirt, trying to keep it over the waistband of my shorts. I kept thinking, "did I get this too small? Did it shrink?" It hugged every curve on my torso, and constantly threatened to expose my midriff whenever I reached for something or bent over. It wasn't until I started looking around that I noticed that the three salesgirls in the boutique also were wearing tops that clung and rode up their backs. It didn't make me feel better about my shirt though - as soon as I got home I changed into a more comfortable shirt.

At Mel's advice, I checked out some of the LDS websites and found pages of nice, modest dresses. Things with sleeves and necklines that didn't reach one's navel and backs that didn't plunge far enough to show what color panties one chose that day. But why is it that I had to go outside of the mainstream to find anything modest? Am I just really that old fashioned? (Answer: Yes. My ideal daily outfit would be something like what Donna Reed would wear.)

And so the wedding plans march on. I still need to talk to the florist, and with our caterer....

Just a Beginner....

Just because I'm a writer doesn't mean I can write. I wake up every morning, trying to ignore the sunlight that happily shines in my window most days (after all, it is Phoenix, AZ - the Valley of the Sun) and try to catch the tail of my fading dream, especially ones that involve me and Tim Curry on an island in the pacific.

Alas, my attempts are in vain, and I have to struggle out of bed to spend the next sixteen hours fighting my greatest opponent - procrastination. I snuggle in bed, peeking occasionally at the clock, until I have eighteen minutes before I have to leave for school. At that point I jump out of bed, scurry to find something edible (thank god for leftover pizza) and jump into the shower. I ignore the carefully laid out rows of makeup jars on the bathroom counter and hastily pull my hair into a lazy bun while brushing my teeth and checking to see if I need to make an eyebrow wax appointment (it can wait a few days.)

I have allowed myself exactly enough time to get to school, barring any traffic or accidents or random road construction, guaranteeing that I will reach the parking lot three minutes before class. Of course, there is no parking close, so I park on the outside of the lot and sprint (yes, sprint) across the parking lot to my classroom.

Today's class is Japanese, and I know that I have my homework because it is the very last thing I did last night. Too bad I didn't read the work for today - conjugating adjectives. I'm still sleep fogged and can barely remember my alphabet. I stumble through class and make a note to study hard this afternoon.

Back home for a rest and to check my calendar: therapy, a group get-together, and at least two hours of studying (I hope.) Somehow I was supposed to put aside some time for writing, but once again I look at my clock and realize that I have somehow lost three hours doing...what?

I make a mental note to write at least one hour a day every day this weekend. I also note that I haven't been exercising or meditating. Somewhere in there I need to take care of my body and my mind.

I'm not on a deadline, and it's driving me crazy. I need to list the stories I want to finish before November, print and edit the ones that are finished, and get something up and posted.

But now, it's off I go again....