When I got sick this summer and found myself with loads of unoccupied time in which I could do very little physical activity, I realized it was the perfect opportunity to rededicate myself to writing. I’ve been struggling with it for years for a number of reasons, and one of the biggest reasons was time. Now I had time. So much time. There was no work for me to bury myself in and there were no more excuses. I started with morning pages, and took to them immediately. They helped me get through the days and weeks that stretched into months while I waited for surgery and then recovered from surgery. I discovered things about my writing and myself, revelations I had never had before, and now that I’m back at work, morning pages have suffered. I hate it and want to get back to it. Weekend morning pages aren’t sufficient. My problem is that I’m a slow writer, so to get the three handwritten pages in, I need about 30 minutes of time. That means I’d have to wake up half an hour early every morning and right now, that’s a challenge. Because I wake up at 5:30am already and waking up early is NOT something that comes easily to me. I love my early shift and everything but getting out of bed is like, my least favorite activity in the world.
But this blog post isn’t about my morning pages, it’s about what I’m writing now, and what I’m writing now, aside from this fantastic post, is fanfic. My favorite kind of fanfic. (I will not tell you what kind that is because omg, I do have some dignity left.) Sometimes, as I’m sitting at my laptop plunking away at the story, word by word, I feel guilty. I’m writing fanfic. I’m not writing something REAL and DEEP and MEANT TO CHANGE LIVES. But then I remember that all writing is practice. I’m practicing right now. Riding the bicycle around on the driveway before venturing out onto the sidewalk. I want to make sure I trust myself without training wheels. It doesn’t matter if my practice is disjointed and bizarre and dude, fanfic. It matters that my fingers are moving and my brain is working. The words are sliding into place alongside one another, little clusters of letters on the ark of my creativity. /flowery
It’s early when he wakes up, the room is dim and gray and cold. He feels Brandy’s absence before he confirms it but there’s a note on her pillow, brief but friendly – Double shift, home at 7. Stay, don’t stay. Takeout menus by the fridge. He drops the note back onto the pillow and rolls onto his back. He listens to the city wake up around him, the car horns and shouted conversations, buses pulling away from curbs, children shrieking on school playgrounds. Life is normal outside, on the sidewalks below Brandy’s apartment.
Tonight I was nomming on an ear of corn. I swallowed a mouthful of deliciousness and a stray kernel got stuck in that spot. You know the one I’m talking about. The one where you throat starts to tickle and then spam and then you’re sputtering and choking and gasping for air? I coughed to dislodge the kernel and something HORRIBLE happened as a result. Just imagine that there is a big wad of chewed up corn sitting in your esophagus when you cough. GUESS WHAT HAPPENS.
Well, what I didn’t throw up ended up in my SINUSES, so I spent a good three minutes in the bathroom blowing my nose to get rid of all the CORN. My sinuses still hurt and my throat is raw. WHY CORN WHY. I couldn’t even finish it, which was sad because it was delicious corn.
I don’t have kids. I choose to have a dog instead of a child, but I have a lot of friends who have kids. I love their kids, even if I’ve never met them. I think their babies are the most adorable, and I’m exceedingly proud of ‘my kids.’ I really, really don’t have kids.
Today when I came home from Target, I pulled up outside our building because the little table we’ve been eyeing for behind our couch was on clearance and I didn’t feel like lugging it from our parking spot. As I was pulling back into our parking area, I waited off to the side while a big truck dropped someone off. He started backing up, I started moving forward and right out of his way and all of a sudden, a little girl, about 8 or 9, zipped up behind the truck on her little scooter thing, went around the truck to the left WHILE IT WAS MOVING BACKWARD, and just kept on going like nothing had happened. The person driving the truck slammed on their brakes and we both sat there for a moment, flabbergasted.
Friends of mine with children, please please educate them on safety while biking/skating/playing, especially if you live in a shared community like an apartment complex. The kids here play in the parking lot, darting around parked cars and not hesitating before running out into the parking lot. I want them to know that it’s dangerous to run around cars without looking first. I want them to know bike safety and pedestrian safety. I don’t want to see any more near misses when I look out the window.
The Giants just won in a walk-off and I don’t know about you guys, but seeing all of the guys pouring out of the dugout, jumping up and down in a big circle, and looking like a bunch of kids just reminds me of the entire post season. All the disappointments, all the missed opportunities and quiet bats, and then the speech and #RallyZito and #RallyEnchiladas and Posey’s grand slam…
I cannot begin to express how glad I am to see that energy carried over into 2013. I LOVE THIS TEAM, Y’ALL.