People offer a lot of advice post-break-up. One of the best pieces I've found is the much-debated-over rebound relationship. The one that reminds you of all those other fishes in the sea. The one that spells out just how grateful you should be to no longer be with the dreaded ex.
You've already met my rebound man.
Let me tell ya; nothing quite heals a broken heart like diving right into another relationship. Especially an exclusive, understanding, creatively-charged character relationship. I mean, his plot is so INTENSE. And I totally swoon every time he goes on one of his emotional, take-charge-of-life spiels.
Oh, Maxie. Be still my heart.
I know some of you thought I was spending time with Evan instead. And I was -- until I reopened Discovery and reminded myself of how much I love, love, love, and adore Maxence Pate. And I need a little reminder of how good men can be in my life.
So I'm off to world-build and figure out what exactly Max is going to discover. He's so modest and noble and stuff. God he's cute.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Happy Things
The sun is out today, folks.
1) It's supposed to be warm and beautiful all week. I just got $10 Wizard-of-Oz-ruby-red ballet flats. Score, score, and double score.
2) The Tudors Season 4 Episode 1 is ONLINE.
**Warning: For mature audiences only. Seriously. I actually had to skip over a scene because it was SO for mature audiences only.**
**Second Warning: Thomas Culpepper's freakishly blue/green eyes are NOT TO BE TRUSTED. Someone please chop off his head. kthanks.**
3) V comes back on TONIGHT. May I just take a moment to happy dance. *dances*
AND *drum roll*
4) I wrote stuff last night. STORY stuff. Not much, and it kind of sucks, but the important thing is that I put fingers to keys and WROTE STUFF. Evan has begun to forgive me. And if she forgives me for my long absence, well, maybe she can convince Crystal and Lu and Max too. And if they all can forgive me, well, maybe I can go back to feeling as whole as I did after I shut my laptop off last night. Because even though what I wrote probably sucks and needs a lot of tender editing love and care, it's there, and it's my story, and it's me. That's what this whole healing process is -- picking up little pieces of yourself each day. Little Saragirl seeds.
Spring is off to a good start.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Slam
There's something inexplicably amazing about slam poetry. Hearing so many words and so much emotion thrown at you, one right after the other right after the other until your heart is racing and your palms are sweating and you're not even sure why. You don't even really hear the words; you absorb them. They seep into your skin and your mind and infiltrate your deepest, darkest feelings until you have to scream.
So many words is invigorating.
So many words is invigorating.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Speak. Spoke. Heal.
Life is funny.
Sometimes you're fine. Sometimes it does hurt, and sometimes it gets so dark in your head you can't really convince yourself to get up. But you do. Because eventually, even with that darkness still bobbing around, you get a moment of light. Or freedom. Or whatever you want to call it, but it makes you feel, for a moment, normal. It makes you thoughtless. Thoughtless, in a good way; those dark slivers of depression worm their way into the farthest recesses of your mind, let you breathe for a moment around whatever ventilation system you found.
So you cling to that ventilation system. I would; wouldn't you? It keeps the darkness away. For a moment. You know it's still there, but it'll be okay, won't it? It'll go away. You don't have to think when you're around your Vent, whatever it is. If you don't think, you don't have to deal with it. And if you don't deal with it, you don't have to admit how dark it really is.
But what happens when that Vent disappears? Vanishes, like Vents usually do. And suddenly you're left there, hollowed out, open for all the world to see. Suffocating in your nakedness. The darkness knows. The Vent is gone. No more distractions, no more avoidance, no more breath. It's coming now. It's here. It's yelling at you: deal with me.
Deal with me.
I'm here. You can't get away from me.
DEAL WITH ME.
I read SPEAK by Laurie Halse Anderson cover to cover Sunday night. I can't put into words how much I needed to read this book. I did a post a little while ago about what I had been going through, and reading over it now, it sounds nice, doesn't it? It sounds all hopeful and stuff. But it doesn't really work like that. This whole process. It never resolves itself in one instant AHA! moment. It's a lot of AHA! moments, and a lot of breakdowns, and a lot of sobbing and screaming and laughing. But the thing I need to remember through all of this, the good and the bad, the lost Vent and the emptiness that followed, is a line from SPEAK:
"A small, clean part of me waits to warm and burst through the surface. Some quiet Melindagirl I haven't seen in months. That is the seed I will care for."
I just have to keep nurturing that quiet Saragirl who keeps whispering at the back of my mind. The girl who's been there all along, through the disastrous religion, the family crises, the shattered hearts. She's been there. The "real" me. A quiet seed of a girl who continues to wait, wait and wait, until I can nurture her into a strong, daring woman. On my own. No Vents, no distractions, no denials. I have depression, and I will fight it, and I will not let myself stay this way.
Because winter really is over now. No more excuses.
Sometimes you're fine. Sometimes it does hurt, and sometimes it gets so dark in your head you can't really convince yourself to get up. But you do. Because eventually, even with that darkness still bobbing around, you get a moment of light. Or freedom. Or whatever you want to call it, but it makes you feel, for a moment, normal. It makes you thoughtless. Thoughtless, in a good way; those dark slivers of depression worm their way into the farthest recesses of your mind, let you breathe for a moment around whatever ventilation system you found.
So you cling to that ventilation system. I would; wouldn't you? It keeps the darkness away. For a moment. You know it's still there, but it'll be okay, won't it? It'll go away. You don't have to think when you're around your Vent, whatever it is. If you don't think, you don't have to deal with it. And if you don't deal with it, you don't have to admit how dark it really is.
But what happens when that Vent disappears? Vanishes, like Vents usually do. And suddenly you're left there, hollowed out, open for all the world to see. Suffocating in your nakedness. The darkness knows. The Vent is gone. No more distractions, no more avoidance, no more breath. It's coming now. It's here. It's yelling at you: deal with me.
Deal with me.
I'm here. You can't get away from me.
DEAL WITH ME.
I read SPEAK by Laurie Halse Anderson cover to cover Sunday night. I can't put into words how much I needed to read this book. I did a post a little while ago about what I had been going through, and reading over it now, it sounds nice, doesn't it? It sounds all hopeful and stuff. But it doesn't really work like that. This whole process. It never resolves itself in one instant AHA! moment. It's a lot of AHA! moments, and a lot of breakdowns, and a lot of sobbing and screaming and laughing. But the thing I need to remember through all of this, the good and the bad, the lost Vent and the emptiness that followed, is a line from SPEAK:
"A small, clean part of me waits to warm and burst through the surface. Some quiet Melindagirl I haven't seen in months. That is the seed I will care for."
I just have to keep nurturing that quiet Saragirl who keeps whispering at the back of my mind. The girl who's been there all along, through the disastrous religion, the family crises, the shattered hearts. She's been there. The "real" me. A quiet seed of a girl who continues to wait, wait and wait, until I can nurture her into a strong, daring woman. On my own. No Vents, no distractions, no denials. I have depression, and I will fight it, and I will not let myself stay this way.
Because winter really is over now. No more excuses.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Mmm. Bread.
So I sat down to write a blog tonight, and I had a number of possible topics.
1) Spring Break -- mine started on Tuesday *fist pump* and goes until March 29th *double fist pump*
2) How much I absolutely loathed this past quarter. So much, in fact, that it is now The Quarter That Must Not Be Named. Therefore nullifying my ability to blog about it.
3) Something deep and moving and motivating. But seeing as I'm still struggling with decisions and stuff, well, I don't feel necessarily qualified to be inspirational right now.
4) McDonald's Big Mac Snack Wraps. Seriously, folks -- THANK YOU TO WHOEVER INVENTED THIS. *triple fist pump*
5) Every food item that comes in a flour tortilla and the sudden horrific disappearance of wraps. Seriously, folks again -- a few months ago (er, maybe like a year ago) wraps were ALL THE RAGE -- we had the Arby's Marketfresh sandwiches you could get in wrap form. Super Subby's had wrapage available. Then, by some unforeseen and inexplicable turn of events, they all DISAPPEARED. Where have all the wraps gone?? It's not like it's terribly difficult to make wraps -- all companies have to do is buy flour tortillas and use the SAME ingredients they use in sandwiches anyway. Difficult? Nope. Then why did they disappear, huh? Why? WHY?!
6) But at least there's the McDonald's Snack Wrap. That has not yet abandoned me. If you had told me two years ago in Lifetime Wellness 101 when we watched Supersize Me that McDonald's would create one of my favorite foods, I would've gagged a little. But now I proudly raise my fourth fist pump to you, McDonald's. You may be single-handedly inflating America's youth, but at least I can enjoy a simple Big Mac concoction while I watch.
7) It might help to mention I'm severely allergic to yeast and therefore cannot eat bread. Yes, it sucks.
8) Yes, it sucks a LOT. Like I'm to the point where I would cut off a limb or take part in a global assassination plot for the ability to eat a Chicken Teriyaki on wheat with American cheese, mayo, lettuce, pickles, and tomatoes from Subway. *whimpers*
9) Darn, now I'm hungry.
10) What was this list for again?
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Results:
Due to a massively busy work weekend and two bouts of the flu (two separate people, don't worry), I didn't get around to posting the results of the survey until today. And it's actually due today too, so it's probably good that I get around to doing it.
I ended up focusing on those survey-takers who either had an eBook Reader or planned on purchasing one, and how they felt regarding the purchase of Real Books after they had their eReader. I got some fancy shmancy little charts from it:
*insert twenty minutes of me trying to figure out how to save a column chart as a picture*
*insert me still being rather loopy from being sick*
*insert me forgetting what I was doing in the first place*
Drat.
Well, I guess we must be appeased with just the facts then:
(cont.)
(cont.)
Hopefully that transferred over well. Why can I transfer data from Excel but not charts? Eh, I'm too loopy to care right now.
But anyway, the results ended up being (albeit small results, and if one wanted a more certain answer, one would have to survey a LOT more people) that even with eReaders people would still buy Real Books. That, along with the number of people who are really, REALLY opposed to eReaders and eBooks, means that Real Books aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Again, more certain results would need to be obtained to make definite statements, but again, I'm loopy. Weeeeooooweeeee.
One an unrelated and somewhat disgusting note: I'm rereading Wintergirls. All I could think about during my lovely bout of vomiting this morning was Lia and how "pink" her insides felt. Which just made me even more nauseous. But damn that book is awesome.
I ended up focusing on those survey-takers who either had an eBook Reader or planned on purchasing one, and how they felt regarding the purchase of Real Books after they had their eReader. I got some fancy shmancy little charts from it:
*insert twenty minutes of me trying to figure out how to save a column chart as a picture**insert me still being rather loopy from being sick*
*insert me forgetting what I was doing in the first place*
Drat.
Well, I guess we must be appeased with just the facts then:
| Role | Own eReader | |||
| Writer/Author | 2 | |||
| Other Publishing Professional | 0 | |||
| Reader | 4 | |||
| Total | 6 |
(cont.) Don't Own; Plan on Purchasing |
| 13 |
| 1 |
| 6 |
| 20 |
(cont.)
| Don't Own; Do Not Plan On Purchasing | Total |
| 16 | 31 |
| 0 | 1 |
| 16 | 26 |
| 32 | 58 |
| Purchase Plans | Still Purchase Hardcopies | |||
| Will Purchase eReader | 14 | |||
| Have Purchased eReader | 4 | |||
| Totals | 18 |
| (cont.) Still Purchase Hardcopies of eBooks |
| 2 |
| 1 |
| 3 |
(cont.)
| Only Purchase Books not on eReader | Total |
| 4 | 20 |
| 1 | 6 |
| 5 | 26 |
Hopefully that transferred over well. Why can I transfer data from Excel but not charts? Eh, I'm too loopy to care right now.
But anyway, the results ended up being (albeit small results, and if one wanted a more certain answer, one would have to survey a LOT more people) that even with eReaders people would still buy Real Books. That, along with the number of people who are really, REALLY opposed to eReaders and eBooks, means that Real Books aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Again, more certain results would need to be obtained to make definite statements, but again, I'm loopy. Weeeeooooweeeee.
One an unrelated and somewhat disgusting note: I'm rereading Wintergirls. All I could think about during my lovely bout of vomiting this morning was Lia and how "pink" her insides felt. Which just made me even more nauseous. But damn that book is awesome.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Decisions, Decisions
I have been misspelling words left and right lately. No joke, I stared at the word "purchase" for at least three minutes yesterday, going "Something is not right..." even though it was. And just now, I almost posted this post with the title "Decisons, Decisions." And now I'm looking at the words, going "Okay, there IS that extra 'i' there, right?" Le sigh.
But that's not what this post is about. Gosh, Sara, ramble.
It's going to take me a few days to piece together all the amazing information you guys gifted me with regarding eBooks and Real Books (I'm hoping to tackle it all on Saturday), so in the meantime I thought I'd start in on something else. Mainly the reason why I've been so AWOL lately; not just to the blogosphere, but to my characters as well. Lu is terribly at odds with me, and I owe all of you an explanation. Especially poor Crystal Thorne, whom I left dangling between 2007 and 1536. Her legs are starting to cramp.
The past two years have been a series of mistakes, bad decisions, and unfortunate events. I shan't go into the details, but suffice to say the result of all those mistakes, bad decisions, and unfortunate events has left me rather -- lost. Yeah, lost is a good word. I'm calling it my mid-mid-life crisis (get it? Because it's midway to my mid-life crisis? Moving on).
I've been looking for something, I guess. I'm not sure what. It's been a steady downhill progression, interspersed with "Aha!" moments that always turned back into that steady downhill progression, until I reached the point where I haven't written anything since last November and I haven't read a book start to finish since before that. I just kept waiting for something to make sense to me again. I kept waiting for that zing of passion to slip back into my life and make everything okay again -- because that's what always made everything okay. Something to be passionate about. Something to love and adore and get excited about, something that no matter what else went wrong would be there, yours and bright and perfect. I don't want to say what my passion used to be, as it is its own slippery slope that leads to giant, flailing, blubbery masses of angry blog trolls (*coughreligioncough*), but in the two years that I've given it up, I've been more and more lost and more and more confused about everything. What do you do when everything you ever lived for, breathed for, moved for, suddenly and unexpectedly -- vanishes? What next?
What next, indeed. That question has been pounding in my head for months now -- what next? What now? What are you going to DO, Sara? What do you even have left? I think I've been afraid to write. I think I've been afraid to find something else to be passionate about, to let something else take that place in my life for fear that I'll decide to move on from it too. But this not deciding, this empty floating that forces me to move from day to day is no way to live. I've been hiding it under school and social events and work, pretending that one day I'll just wake up and HAVE to write again and HAVE to read again and everything will just magically snap back into place. But it doesn't work like that. Problems don't just vanish. Only the easy stuff vanishes. The problems fester until you pry them out yourself.
So all this talk about being too busy with school and work and social stuff has been one big cover-up. One big denial. And after a series of breakdowns and revelations (REAL "Aha!" moments), I've decided to be passionate again. About what? I don't know. Maybe stories. Maybe writing. Maybe just living. But whatever it is, it will be mine. My bright, shiny life. I don't expect it to be easy; two years of slipping downhill won't be fixed in a matter of days, or even weeks. Even just thinking about it makes me scared stiff. But I've made the decision. And that's all it takes to start, right?
This whole situation reminds of Laurie Halse Anderson's Wintergirls, only minus the eating disorders and add in depression. I think I'll re-read it now, because winter is over. Winter is over, and spring is coming.
But that's not what this post is about. Gosh, Sara, ramble.
It's going to take me a few days to piece together all the amazing information you guys gifted me with regarding eBooks and Real Books (I'm hoping to tackle it all on Saturday), so in the meantime I thought I'd start in on something else. Mainly the reason why I've been so AWOL lately; not just to the blogosphere, but to my characters as well. Lu is terribly at odds with me, and I owe all of you an explanation. Especially poor Crystal Thorne, whom I left dangling between 2007 and 1536. Her legs are starting to cramp.
The past two years have been a series of mistakes, bad decisions, and unfortunate events. I shan't go into the details, but suffice to say the result of all those mistakes, bad decisions, and unfortunate events has left me rather -- lost. Yeah, lost is a good word. I'm calling it my mid-mid-life crisis (get it? Because it's midway to my mid-life crisis? Moving on).
I've been looking for something, I guess. I'm not sure what. It's been a steady downhill progression, interspersed with "Aha!" moments that always turned back into that steady downhill progression, until I reached the point where I haven't written anything since last November and I haven't read a book start to finish since before that. I just kept waiting for something to make sense to me again. I kept waiting for that zing of passion to slip back into my life and make everything okay again -- because that's what always made everything okay. Something to be passionate about. Something to love and adore and get excited about, something that no matter what else went wrong would be there, yours and bright and perfect. I don't want to say what my passion used to be, as it is its own slippery slope that leads to giant, flailing, blubbery masses of angry blog trolls (*coughreligioncough*), but in the two years that I've given it up, I've been more and more lost and more and more confused about everything. What do you do when everything you ever lived for, breathed for, moved for, suddenly and unexpectedly -- vanishes? What next?
What next, indeed. That question has been pounding in my head for months now -- what next? What now? What are you going to DO, Sara? What do you even have left? I think I've been afraid to write. I think I've been afraid to find something else to be passionate about, to let something else take that place in my life for fear that I'll decide to move on from it too. But this not deciding, this empty floating that forces me to move from day to day is no way to live. I've been hiding it under school and social events and work, pretending that one day I'll just wake up and HAVE to write again and HAVE to read again and everything will just magically snap back into place. But it doesn't work like that. Problems don't just vanish. Only the easy stuff vanishes. The problems fester until you pry them out yourself.
So all this talk about being too busy with school and work and social stuff has been one big cover-up. One big denial. And after a series of breakdowns and revelations (REAL "Aha!" moments), I've decided to be passionate again. About what? I don't know. Maybe stories. Maybe writing. Maybe just living. But whatever it is, it will be mine. My bright, shiny life. I don't expect it to be easy; two years of slipping downhill won't be fixed in a matter of days, or even weeks. Even just thinking about it makes me scared stiff. But I've made the decision. And that's all it takes to start, right?
This whole situation reminds of Laurie Halse Anderson's Wintergirls, only minus the eating disorders and add in depression. I think I'll re-read it now, because winter is over. Winter is over, and spring is coming.
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