wish you were here

I feel good. Not the best I could be considering, but good. The worst part about my life is that most of my friends are in love. And I’m not. And to hear them talk about it, I start zoning out because I’ve always been an outsider, and that’s just what I do. I stand outside and wait until you come to me for advice. It’s what I’m good at.

Anyway. Better things: I’m working on an idea for a TV show. I’m not sure about it, but I’m getting a lot of ideas, and they flowing out swimmingly. I like to write it, so that’s a positive. Here’s my list of What I Should Be Working On as far as writing/performing:

• Re-writing bits of the YA novel
• Working on the new Vegas sci-fi story idea– not sure if it’s short story or novel-length yet
• Memorizing “yes.” and the poem about my nephews
• Writing on the TV pilot idea

Being that the agent search resulted in absolutely nothing, and having been through a workshop that unintentionally made me feel like an asshole, I’m buckling down and trimming off the crap that I’m not good at, and expanding on what I really am good at– dialogue and imagery.

And running? I like it. I did a week of a quarter mile, and this week I did half a mile, broken up at the beginning and end of my walk. Today I wanted to challenge myself, and I got in 3/4 of a mile– a quarter at the end of the three miles (and a little more) that I already walk a day.

My nephews turned 7 yesterday. I feel old.

Get these motherfucking snakes off the motherfucking plane.

I haven’t really been wanting to write here because I started working on a new idea. There’s a very specific character with no name talking in my head right now, so she’s taking the priority. I made a tiny update on the LJ, however.

I could’ve gone to see The Pretenders tonight, but writing and having a night to myself in a clean house seemed more appropriate. I have one more room left in the next two days, then Andy gets here.

Yeah, I know. Part of that $100 gift certificate I’d gotten for Christmas? It went to a bit of a nerd-out today. Had to do it.

Words to write. Good night.

I swear, I’m really going to update. I’m just brain dead– between cleaning the house for Andy’s arrival, recovering from L.A., and the fact that I have a feature tonight, I don’t have the motor skills to write. Soon, though.

A lot of things on my mind this past weekend. I had a bad moment in a public place. I am an idiot. Not only because of that, but I convinced myself to start training. Like, running. Like, gonna start this week training.

I have more thoughts on this, and why, and the whatnots. But I am very tired.

I’m starting not to be as angry anymore, because whatever problems I have with people aren’t about them. That’s probably the most powerful thing I’m learning right now.

And one more thing: this was sung tonight, though not many people knew what it meant.

I didn’t drink today because it was some kind of American tradition. I drank because my great-grandfather Dennis came here to get us a better life. And goddamn if I don’t love it.

For sure, better than last year. But there is driving tomorrow. And I need to sleep.

I added a Link Roll over there on the right. Just stuff that I’m finding interesting and don’t really have time to ramble on about here.

Someone asked me on Sunday what I write about in my blog. I had nothing to tell him. I need stuff to write about. Something about observations. Something about subjects I’m particularly interested in. Something about commenting on life that is part criticism and part figuring this shit out.

Here’s the thing: I know a lot of random information. I’m pretty good at trivia. However, there’s no one subject that I know a lot about, except for myself. And that’s wobbly at best sometimes.

I’m not gonna lie. I watched the Firefly marathon this weekend, and got hooked, people. Just hooked. I hate it when TV does that. I shouldn’t be watching TV. Like, ever.

I don’t like putting my picture on my (solid object) output. For me, I look silly with my face on paper or a CD to people who would look at it and decide the words don’t matter. This week especially, there has been some very awkward attention being paid to me, and the words don’t matter. On the one hand, I’ve been getting a lot of compliments on my hair lately. It’s growing out. It’s easy right now. I feel good about that. On the other hand, Wednesday at Cheers I had an aquaintance tell me in no uncertain terms that he would’ve rather taken me home. And Thursday night, a random stranger, much older than me, at Noreen’s when I was on my way out from work, telling me that I was “trouble.”

I’m sure these things are connected to a bigger event coming up for me, whatever that means. Oddly enough, something similar was happening this time last year.

And this is a persona piece for me now, and I want to keep it that way. If I’m going to write that, let it be something that I erase from here and not some kind of new way of hating myself so that when I speak it out loud, it sounds like lover’s breath.

I don’t know what opportunity looks like. He dresses sometimes in skirts with worn hems that I want to sew. Sometimes, she’s wearing fantastic eyes. Usually he’s a mirrorball, looking at me with fly-like eyes, millions of perfect irises. She’s telling me that you get so frustrated at your own behaviour manifest in other people. He tells me to contimplate the Empress card, that 3 is my number and when it is there, that is my time. She makes rain when I have empty hands.

And sometimes, I don’t know where I’m standing. But I am standing. And there are voices that aren’t made of blood anymore, and it’s up to me. It’s up to me to keep speaking to them and for them if I’m lucky.

I have to be careful about expressing my desires once more. It’s strange, but I’m feeling my power starting to wax again. Ostara is next Monday, and I need this to be in my mind if I’m staring put events into motion and I want this to be pointed. I need to know if what I am doing is the correct path for no-one else but me. The best part is the power to say No whenever I want to. I am not forced into anything I can get myself out of.

It is dangerous. I cannot think about you. Any of you. I am not allowed, nor should I, think your way out. Or in. I won’t be a Witch for Hire anymore, because you are all Witches. Your thoughts are manifest right now.

Fiction was worked on today. Hopefully, some poetry before bed. Sometimes, Fonzie is the only one who knows the real story. The love of my life, my familiar.