It's pretty common in online circles to give each other {HUGS}. (Or (HUGS) or [HUGS] or even ((((HUGS))))--you get the idea. When a friend or acquaintance is depressed, lost someone, is sick, or is just having a hard day, {HUGS} are sent and returned.
It's not the same thing, we know that. Supposedly real-body hugging actually increases the body's endorphins, a chemical reaction that can give us mild euphoria.
I like me a little mild euphoria.
But it's the best we can do without being anywhere near our friends. My "closest" friends are scattered over two countries. {HUGS} convey that we wish we could hug each other, give each other comfort and support, and it does help.
I'm incredibly lucky at this point in my life that I also get lots of real-life hugs. A six-year-old daughter is the tops in hugging. Plus husband, family...I get hugged every day.
It was not always so.
When I was 19, I set off for a year of study abroad in southern England (University of Sussex, woo-hoo!). I was part of an organized program, so I was taken care of. I lived with other students from the U.S., from England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, the Seychelles, Portugal, everywhere. I had people I hung out with. I had fun.
I was also, simultaenously, desperately homesick and lonely. By December Christmas was coming and I knew that (a) I didn't have anywhere to go--the dorms closed down, and all my friends already had plans; and (b) I still wasn't going to see my family for at least 4 months, and I wouldn't be home for 6 months. One of the program directors offered to host the Christmas holidays at his house in London for whichever Study Abroad students wanted to come.
I didn't know what else to do, so I went. I think eight of us went, all studying at different schools across the U.K., guys and girls mixed. None of us knew each other. We'd only met the director once, in our whirlwind entry in September. We were going to stay at his little London apartment for a week, bunking in the two beds and the floor in rotation, doing whatever we decided to do.
It was an amazing Christmas. For whatever reason--enforced company, similarities, chemistry--we all bonded straight off. We had long, wine-fueled talks into the night. We laughed our asses off trying to cobble together a Christmas meal in a minuscule, unfamiliar kitchen with recipes that measured in metric. We sang Christmas carols, comparing American and English versions. We walked together, through lightly falling snow, to midnight Christmas mass in St. Paul's Cathedral.
And I realized, on that Christmas Eve, after hugging every one of them, that I hadn't had a hug since I left my parents. That I NEEDED hugs. That maybe part of my loneliness was that lack of touch.
So I was touched by this guy. Yeah, maybe it could be a little creepy. But I think he just realized that some people don't have hugs in their lives, bone-crushing squeezy real hugs. And everybody needs one, now and again.
{HUG}
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Stuff
I keep hoping to have a gap-toothed picture to share with you--Child's first loose tooth is sooooo loose it's gotta be soon, but it's still hanging in. Watch this space (for an impending space) {g}.
I seem to have cursed myself by saying yesterday that the next part of revisions would be easier. I was absolutely positively WRONG. I battled with myself yesterday over every word, questioning every flippin' comma, and I'm not sure I made anything better. And I only plowed through 8 pages, which I have to go over again today anyway. *grumble*
Kids, don't listen if anybody ever tells you ANY of this job is easy. *bangs head quietly*
I also want to do a quick YAY shoutout to my girls, who are all pounding away on their keyboards this summer, staying focused, and kicking ass. Vic, Rosie, Linda, Jule, karen, Pam, Sara, Deb, Kathy, Kreek.... You guys keep me sane, and are my inspiration all.
I seem to have cursed myself by saying yesterday that the next part of revisions would be easier. I was absolutely positively WRONG. I battled with myself yesterday over every word, questioning every flippin' comma, and I'm not sure I made anything better. And I only plowed through 8 pages, which I have to go over again today anyway. *grumble*
Kids, don't listen if anybody ever tells you ANY of this job is easy. *bangs head quietly*
I also want to do a quick YAY shoutout to my girls, who are all pounding away on their keyboards this summer, staying focused, and kicking ass. Vic, Rosie, Linda, Jule, karen, Pam, Sara, Deb, Kathy, Kreek.... You guys keep me sane, and are my inspiration all.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Oh, I forgot how much I love this song.
http://www.pandora.com/music/song/toad+wet+sprocket/walk+on+ocean
http://www.pandora.com/music/song/toad+wet+sprocket/walk+on+ocean
Fleeting thoughts (thank goodness)
Status:
Step 1 of Major Revision: Check.
On to Step 2, much less stressful.
Meanwhile, random thoughts I had while attending a jazz concert (trumpet/piano duo) yesterday:
--Is it bad to fantasize about chopping the head off the Amazonian sitting in front of me, so I can see? Her neck level would be just about right.
--(craning around Amazonian) Wow, it's crazy what the pianist is doing with his hands when you can see them.
--These guys are good.
--I despise people who get all agro on other people. Amazonian actually got visibly angry at (a) the slight pump of someone's oxygen machine (head-turning, "what is that noise?") and (b) the 80+ old man humming along happily to himself under his breath. She SHUSHED him. I think if you're 80+ and you've made it to a concert, especially in a natty suit, you should be allowed to happily hum quietly to yourself, thank you. It wasn't bothering anyone else. Reasons to chop her head off: 2.
--Okay, they're good, but I do wish every once in a while they would play the actual melody. Just, you know, once through. I think perhaps I am not a true jazz person.
--Ooooh, there's a nice melody...no, gone now. I shall just sing in my head until they get back to it.
--My child is the youngest one here by FAR, and is extremely well-behaved. Yay.
--Hmm, perhaps it's actually healthier for Amazonian, who expresses her annoyance to everyone, than me, who seethes silently at her. Something to think about. I wish I was one of those people who don't even notice these things.
--*singing in head*
Usually I think of plot points, or daydream about my characters, during these concerts. Yesterday I was a little burnt out on all that, so this is what I got. :)
Also, last night I had a dream that George Balanchine (yes, I know he's dead) created a ballet just for me, all on skateboards. Hmmm.
Step 1 of Major Revision: Check.
On to Step 2, much less stressful.
Meanwhile, random thoughts I had while attending a jazz concert (trumpet/piano duo) yesterday:
--Is it bad to fantasize about chopping the head off the Amazonian sitting in front of me, so I can see? Her neck level would be just about right.
--(craning around Amazonian) Wow, it's crazy what the pianist is doing with his hands when you can see them.
--These guys are good.
--I despise people who get all agro on other people. Amazonian actually got visibly angry at (a) the slight pump of someone's oxygen machine (head-turning, "what is that noise?") and (b) the 80+ old man humming along happily to himself under his breath. She SHUSHED him. I think if you're 80+ and you've made it to a concert, especially in a natty suit, you should be allowed to happily hum quietly to yourself, thank you. It wasn't bothering anyone else. Reasons to chop her head off: 2.
--Okay, they're good, but I do wish every once in a while they would play the actual melody. Just, you know, once through. I think perhaps I am not a true jazz person.
--Ooooh, there's a nice melody...no, gone now. I shall just sing in my head until they get back to it.
--My child is the youngest one here by FAR, and is extremely well-behaved. Yay.
--Hmm, perhaps it's actually healthier for Amazonian, who expresses her annoyance to everyone, than me, who seethes silently at her. Something to think about. I wish I was one of those people who don't even notice these things.
--*singing in head*
Usually I think of plot points, or daydream about my characters, during these concerts. Yesterday I was a little burnt out on all that, so this is what I got. :)
Also, last night I had a dream that George Balanchine (yes, I know he's dead) created a ballet just for me, all on skateboards. Hmmm.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Not really a post.
Still writing. Still an achingly dull and empty blog, for now.
I apologize.
In the meantime, Maureen is having adventures,
Gary is making very funny lists of what not to do in murder mysteries,
and Rose is having yummy drinks.
I did get to see an exhibit this weekend wherein I saw the originals of: the Wicked Witch's hat from the Wizard of Oz, George Clooney's Batman costume, Indy's leather jacket and whip, Darth Vader's cape and helmet (I looked into his eyes and got a little chill), and a whole mess of other Star Wars and Star Trek stuff. Very coolio.
Break over...later, gators.
I apologize.
In the meantime, Maureen is having adventures,
Gary is making very funny lists of what not to do in murder mysteries,
and Rose is having yummy drinks.
I did get to see an exhibit this weekend wherein I saw the originals of: the Wicked Witch's hat from the Wizard of Oz, George Clooney's Batman costume, Indy's leather jacket and whip, Darth Vader's cape and helmet (I looked into his eyes and got a little chill), and a whole mess of other Star Wars and Star Trek stuff. Very coolio.
Break over...later, gators.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Adventure! Not.
1:30 AM, this morning
I wake with that middle-of-the-night something-is-wrong alarm, my heart thrumming.
Me (whisper): "If you turned off the sprinklers, why do I hear something running?"
Hubby (sleepy whisper back): "I was just going to ask you that..."
I push out of bed, pad over to the sprinkler control, flip on the horrible blinding light. It is set to OFF. Yet water is clearly running, loud, under my feet. This is Bad. I inform hubby of Badness. He comes out rubbing his eyes and turns the sprinkler on...it makes nasty glugging broken noises...and then off. Still water running.
Me (knowing this is probably a recurrence of the Sprinkler Breakage we had the first week we moved in, but not wanting to admit it): "Do you think we need to go outside and check?"
Hubby: "Sounds like recurrence of Sprinkler Breakage. We'd better."
We fumble around for flashlights and appropriate clothing for outside at...now 1:40 AM. We can hear the water sploshing from around the house...it's pouring up from the sprinkler main, flooding down into our crawlspace. Hubby opens the crawlspace door, and I stare down into it. I am the only one who can fit in there. To fit in there I must contort my body like a gymnast between a little narrow dirty usually spider-infested opening, in the dark, this time landing in I'm-not-sure-how-deep water. But I have to go in there to turn the sprinkler main off. I look at my sandals.
Hubby: "You'd better take those off."
Me: *sigh*
I take them off. I maneuver myself barefoot into the obscenely small opening, getting my butt all wet. I feel for the water depth with my feet--it's mid-calf. And COLD. But it's going to get deeper the longer I wait.
I jump in and try not to shriek. It's not just cold. Our water comes from snowmelt--it's like jumping into a snowbank. Calf deep, barefoot. In the middle of the night.
I slosh over and turn the lever, and thankfully the water stops. Then I just have to pry myself out--which is harder, somehow; I actually got stuck for a minute--and traipse back to the house, carrying my sandals, wet and muddy.
It took half an hour before my legs were warm.
2:15 AM
Me (wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling): "Well, that was interesting."
I wake with that middle-of-the-night something-is-wrong alarm, my heart thrumming.
Me (whisper): "If you turned off the sprinklers, why do I hear something running?"
Hubby (sleepy whisper back): "I was just going to ask you that..."
I push out of bed, pad over to the sprinkler control, flip on the horrible blinding light. It is set to OFF. Yet water is clearly running, loud, under my feet. This is Bad. I inform hubby of Badness. He comes out rubbing his eyes and turns the sprinkler on...it makes nasty glugging broken noises...and then off. Still water running.
Me (knowing this is probably a recurrence of the Sprinkler Breakage we had the first week we moved in, but not wanting to admit it): "Do you think we need to go outside and check?"
Hubby: "Sounds like recurrence of Sprinkler Breakage. We'd better."
We fumble around for flashlights and appropriate clothing for outside at...now 1:40 AM. We can hear the water sploshing from around the house...it's pouring up from the sprinkler main, flooding down into our crawlspace. Hubby opens the crawlspace door, and I stare down into it. I am the only one who can fit in there. To fit in there I must contort my body like a gymnast between a little narrow dirty usually spider-infested opening, in the dark, this time landing in I'm-not-sure-how-deep water. But I have to go in there to turn the sprinkler main off. I look at my sandals.
Hubby: "You'd better take those off."
Me: *sigh*
I take them off. I maneuver myself barefoot into the obscenely small opening, getting my butt all wet. I feel for the water depth with my feet--it's mid-calf. And COLD. But it's going to get deeper the longer I wait.
I jump in and try not to shriek. It's not just cold. Our water comes from snowmelt--it's like jumping into a snowbank. Calf deep, barefoot. In the middle of the night.
I slosh over and turn the lever, and thankfully the water stops. Then I just have to pry myself out--which is harder, somehow; I actually got stuck for a minute--and traipse back to the house, carrying my sandals, wet and muddy.
It took half an hour before my legs were warm.
2:15 AM
Me (wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling): "Well, that was interesting."
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
New bookage!
NEWSFLASH: The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance is out on the shelves, both virtual and shelf-like.
Vicki Pettersson has a story in this anthology. I've read it, and it is phenomenal. You must read it.*
Go forth. I am back to the book.
*Because even though she has the twin annoying habits of being calm and reasonable in the face of my freakouts and being way too often Right, she is a damn good storyteller.
Vicki Pettersson has a story in this anthology. I've read it, and it is phenomenal. You must read it.*
Go forth. I am back to the book.
*Because even though she has the twin annoying habits of being calm and reasonable in the face of my freakouts and being way too often Right, she is a damn good storyteller.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Random Thoughts from this weekend
--I. Love. This. Book. Love love love. Love this book. LOVE. This is me on paper.
--Insomnia SUCKS. I can't even write when I can't sleep. My brain is stuck on high spin cycle. And the next day (that would be today) my brain is stuck in Dull.
--Hubby is awarded extra super bonus points for taking Child to the bookstore for more than an hour so I could work.
--We are officially in "gorgeous weather" mode. Must enjoy it while it lasts.
--Fighter jets are very loud when they take off right in front of you.
--It's very cool to see your daughter perched up on top of a fighter jet. (not, you know, when it's flying)
--It's amazing to see your daughter perform in her first play. And make it through, and beam afterwards.
--Betsy and Tacy is still a good book.
--If the dream that I had this morning comes true someday, even close, I will be a happy camper. Well, not the vampire part. But the rest...yeah, baby.
That is all.
--Insomnia SUCKS. I can't even write when I can't sleep. My brain is stuck on high spin cycle. And the next day (that would be today) my brain is stuck in Dull.
--Hubby is awarded extra super bonus points for taking Child to the bookstore for more than an hour so I could work.
--We are officially in "gorgeous weather" mode. Must enjoy it while it lasts.
--Fighter jets are very loud when they take off right in front of you.
--It's very cool to see your daughter perched up on top of a fighter jet. (not, you know, when it's flying)
--It's amazing to see your daughter perform in her first play. And make it through, and beam afterwards.
--Betsy and Tacy is still a good book.
--If the dream that I had this morning comes true someday, even close, I will be a happy camper. Well, not the vampire part. But the rest...yeah, baby.
That is all.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Don't mind the absence of the person supposed to be posting on this blog. I'm just a little taken up with something else right now. In the meantime, I'll share one of my favorite recipes. Healthy, yummy, and perfect for summer.
From FoodFit.com:
Preparation time : 20 minutes
Cooking time : 20 minutes
From FoodFit.com:
| Grilled Chicken with Oranges and Avocado |
| This recipe serves: | 4 |
Preparation time : 20 minutes
Cooking time : 20 minutes
Ingredients
For the chicken:
1 cup low-fat or non-fat plain yogurt
1/4 cup minced red onion
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons honey
salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, 4 to 6 oz. each
For the garnish:
1 avocado
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
2 oranges, peeled and sectioned
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
Cooking Instructions
1. For the chicken: Mix all the ingredients except the chicken in a large bowl. Add the chicken to the mixture and coat evenly. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes or over night.
2. Preheat the grill or broiler.
3. Remove the chicken from the marinade and discard the marinade. (This protects against cross-contamination.) Sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper.
4. Place the chicken on the grill or under the broiler and cook until the juices run clear, 6 to 8 minutes per side.(I usually do 10 per side)
5. In the meantime, peel, core and chop the avocado and toss it with the lime juice quickly so that it doesn't discolor. Add the oranges, onion and cilantro. Season with salt and serve on top of the chicken.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
SCREEECH!
That's me, switching gears.
(awesome image borrowed from http://www.aims-nc.org/)
Hello again, Jenna. It's nice to see you.
(awesome image borrowed from http://www.aims-nc.org/)Hello again, Jenna. It's nice to see you.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Confession
Dear Melody:
I cannot BELIEVE I just did that to you. Seriously. I don't know what happened, but it just...wow. It just took off there, didn't it? I'm still in shock myself, and I imagine you're probably kind of a little upset right now.
Ahem. Don't look at me like that. Your eyes are freaking me out.
I didn't mean for that to happen. Er...any of that. So you don't really need to...
Put down the longbow. Please. Yes, I realize I gave it to you in the first place. But I don't really think now is the right time to--
Hey. Stop that! No, I won't change it. I won't. It's good. Believe me, the readers* are going to like that part. Even if it is fairly awful...
HEY. That was uncalled for. Watch out, missy, or it's just going to get worse in the next chapter.
{ducking}
me
*This is assuming readers, yes, we are thinking positive.
I cannot BELIEVE I just did that to you. Seriously. I don't know what happened, but it just...wow. It just took off there, didn't it? I'm still in shock myself, and I imagine you're probably kind of a little upset right now.
Ahem. Don't look at me like that. Your eyes are freaking me out.
I didn't mean for that to happen. Er...any of that. So you don't really need to...
Put down the longbow. Please. Yes, I realize I gave it to you in the first place. But I don't really think now is the right time to--
Hey. Stop that! No, I won't change it. I won't. It's good. Believe me, the readers* are going to like that part. Even if it is fairly awful...
HEY. That was uncalled for. Watch out, missy, or it's just going to get worse in the next chapter.
{ducking}
me
*This is assuming readers, yes, we are thinking positive.
Book Love
In my regular every-few-months surge of new-book love...
I'm finally reading Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, and yes, so far it is drawing me in as much as Wicked Lovely did. Unfortunately this is dangerous, as I was doing so well working head-down on MELODY last week. I was forced to leave IE at home lest I succumb and spend the whole lunch with my feet up on my desk, in Melissa's pretend world instead of my pretend world.
In addition to that, I had 3 gift cards to cash in. The one at Hastings was all for me. (and it was buy 3 teen titles get one free! Until the end of July!) I snagged:
Book love, two generations.
I'm finally reading Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, and yes, so far it is drawing me in as much as Wicked Lovely did. Unfortunately this is dangerous, as I was doing so well working head-down on MELODY last week. I was forced to leave IE at home lest I succumb and spend the whole lunch with my feet up on my desk, in Melissa's pretend world instead of my pretend world.
In addition to that, I had 3 gift cards to cash in. The one at Hastings was all for me. (and it was buy 3 teen titles get one free! Until the end of July!) I snagged:
- Vampire Academy, by Richelle Mead. Even though I'm still not much of a vampire fan in general, this keeps getting rec'd by friends.
- Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson. Ever since I saw Maureen's video with Libba Bray I knew I had to read their books. Reading their blogs confirmed it. So I also got:
- A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray. I realize I am the last YA reader on the planet to pick up this one. I'm looking forward to it.
- Enna Burning by Shannon Hale. Silly as it is, I first picked up Shannon Hale because I liked her website (back when I was working on mine. *cough*). I really loved Princess Academy. So this is next!
Book love, two generations.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wall-E and the not-lesson
Last evening Hubby and I took Child to see Wall-E.
I was a bit worried. When I'd seen the preview and read all the glowing reviews, my primary thought had been, "Wow, this may be the first Pixar movie I don't want to see."
See, I'm a contrarian, deep down. I hate to be manipulated, and I hate doing things that everybody wants me to do. So when I saw that Wall-E had such a strong "message" AND that everybody and their bastard stepchild wanted me to GO ALREADY, I didn't wanna.
But I've loved every other Pixar movie--they've never been schmaltzy or messagy--so I sucked it up and went. And yes,
And then an Old Gold cigarette pack landed at my feet.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
My song
I am not posting much because I'm writing and it's going really well. This is the song I posted to my writing buds yesterday, because I really am that much of a geek:
Oh, I'm...
playing in the mountains of Moldavia,
Moldavia,
Moldavia,
Oh I'm playing in the mountains of Moldavia,
And I have got a plot.
And a man-god.
Woo-hoo!
*back to work*
Oh, I'm...
playing in the mountains of Moldavia,
Moldavia,
Moldavia,
Oh I'm playing in the mountains of Moldavia,
And I have got a plot.
And a man-god.
Woo-hoo!
*back to work*
Monday, July 14, 2008
Round-up
Another whirlwind weekend, this time soaking up music at the National Folk Festival right here in town. We listened to (and danced to) amazing bands of all genres, from blues to gospel to reggae. We ate food from vendor vans, perched on the grass. We stayed up incredibly late, and all slept in incredibly late. Aaaah.
We were out in the sun most of the weekend. Even with SPF 50 sunblock, I am far browner than my Norwegian/English genes meant me to be...but it's all good.
In writing news, I hit the first real story burst of MELODY, when it all comes flooding to me and I can't wait to get to the page. Of course I _couldn't_ get to the page this weekend, but the story was omnipresent in my head. I'm hoping to make it to 10,000 words today, and pile it on this week.
And in linkage, my writing bud Kelly Gay is giving an interview here. Comment, and you can win chocolate! Go! Shoo!
We were out in the sun most of the weekend. Even with SPF 50 sunblock, I am far browner than my Norwegian/English genes meant me to be...but it's all good.
In writing news, I hit the first real story burst of MELODY, when it all comes flooding to me and I can't wait to get to the page. Of course I _couldn't_ get to the page this weekend, but the story was omnipresent in my head. I'm hoping to make it to 10,000 words today, and pile it on this week.
And in linkage, my writing bud Kelly Gay is giving an interview here. Comment, and you can win chocolate! Go! Shoo!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Coolio word clouds
I shamelessly stole this post from Jo.
Here's a word cloud, from Wordle, of this blog.
I love that family, time, writing, and YES are huge.
Here's one of Jenna:
Joe and Neil...yay! Back, time, know, right, one, all good. Just, said, and like...hmmm.
One of GG:
I do tend toward like and just, eh? I knew that, though. back, DR, Mom, Tony...and I finally found ghost in there too.
And finally, one of Melody, which is just starting so it will change a lot. That's why I chose the template that looks all scattered and jumbled up.
Hey, at least I'm keeping with just and like, though. :)
Here's a word cloud, from Wordle, of this blog.
I love that family, time, writing, and YES are huge.Here's one of Jenna:
Joe and Neil...yay! Back, time, know, right, one, all good. Just, said, and like...hmmm.
One of GG:
I do tend toward like and just, eh? I knew that, though. back, DR, Mom, Tony...and I finally found ghost in there too.And finally, one of Melody, which is just starting so it will change a lot. That's why I chose the template that looks all scattered and jumbled up.
Hey, at least I'm keeping with just and like, though. :)
Friday Linkage of Awesomeness
YES, Maureen Johnson! YES YES YES! There are no muses! It is WORK! I particularly adore this bit about one of your approaches to writing stalls, which I relate to more than I want to admit:
And YES Justine! Thank you for pointing me to Maureen's Death to Muses blog post, and for your own comments on said death.
And this weekend, Butte is hosting the National Folk Festival, a 3-day extravaganza of music, dancing, and booths selling ethnic food we have not seen in years. Or EVER, here. Butte is the Happening place, you see. It is the hot spot of the nation.
- Sending long, rambling notes to friends, saying how I have failed completely (again) and am going die of writing mange (again) and how my brain is stalled never to restart (again). This is a pleasant time-waster. Also, my friends LOVE it!I am going out to buy a book of yours at lunch. Also love the Drunk History video muchly.
And YES Justine! Thank you for pointing me to Maureen's Death to Muses blog post, and for your own comments on said death.
Trouble is all the muse talk makes it sound like ideas and inspiration are the most important part of writing, which, sadly, is rubbish.You are both in my Google Reader now.
And this weekend, Butte is hosting the National Folk Festival, a 3-day extravaganza of music, dancing, and booths selling ethnic food we have not seen in years. Or EVER, here. Butte is the Happening place, you see. It is the hot spot of the nation.
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