Sore in places I didn't know existed previously. I had all intents of coming home and practicing my kata last night; on the way home, the languid driving, it sapped me of any and all adrenaline. It was sort of disgusting. On that note: I'm glad I didn't. I'm horribly sore today and still feeling that euphoric post-rush, enough to be cleaning like a maniac.
Skin from my big toe and the top of my foot (top of the underside? Hell if I know) peeled off in the duration of class from the extensive turning. My knuckles are forming callouses - haha, well, big red spots with some skin coming off of there as well. Sensei didn't let me stop leaning on them even when I said it hurt. I understood why, even then, but g'damn, it hurt. Yes, it pained me to the extent where I actually swore in a blog post, something I've been trying not to do. Through the course of the night, two elongated oval blisters swelled up on my big toe, dead center of it. Again, from spinning side to side, thumbs are sore from the tight hold I had to have on my fists.
In short, it's still fantastic. I informed Sensei that until I was free Saturday mornings, I would be attending the classes Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He was pleased.
I'm still having problems with the language. Sensei is American born and Caucasian, despite spending most of his adult life in Japan; his wife is also a black belt, Japanese born and raised. But the names!! Forward front steps with a high punch are called something with long, complicated phrases in Japanese. I'm trying to learn but I still can't pronounce them or even hope to remember them all just yet. Even my kata - Shihonensi Kata? I know 'shihonen' is in there somewhere! I will ask again on Monday.
In the meantime, I will be practicing my kata at home along with squaring my shoulders when I punch or kick, a big problem of mine. I don't place my legs far enough apart or bend my knees enough, my wrists are always up too high, I need to straighten them.I'm hoping by next class I will be able to show Sensei Yuki improvement! I want to be a good student. They're traditionally tough teachers. It. Is. Fantastic.
I need to go and clean now. Until next time!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Karate: Day 1
I have another twenty minutes before I have to hit up the dojo so what better time to make a blog post?
My first Karate class was Monday. I'm starting off at a size 8, 141 lbs, 5'5". My goal is to be 130 lbs and be able to get back into my damned size 6 skinny jeans - I had been able to when I was 132.
On the days I'm not at the Dojo, I'm walking the dogs and trying to exercise at home. All soda and junk food's been cut out of my diet, portions have been made smaller. Depressing, right?! I've even switched to soy milk! (At least, at work. Mom just bought a half gallon of 2% and putting that to waste would make me wince.)
I may go to the Dojo three times a week. Ideally, this will be Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday thing - get some in there for every portion of the week! This week is only Monday and Wednesday as I work Saturday morning (when the class takes place) and was frankly in too much pain to go yesterday. I promised Sensei Yuki that I would be in the class today, which makes me face the pain like a woman: with a smile and perfectly done hair. The severely scraped knee helps too but I'm learning to fall gracefully (read: without killing myself) and to do knuckle-push ups.
She says all the names of the moves in fast Japanese. I find it hard to keep up as my Japanese vocabulary is limited to a few words although it thankfully includes 'arigatou' so I can thank her properly. I don't care if that's spelled correctly or not. She says my ki-yah is fantastic; the other students thought I was her while I practiced my blocking in the back. They were doing katas! Haha!
It's already a favorite part of my week. While it's nerve wracking, being the only person there not knowing what's going down, it's also really fun to be taught things. Some of students are only eleven or twelve; one twelve year old girl turned to me before a certain exercise and said, very frankly, "This is going to hurt."
Fabulous.
Here's to weight loss and getting in shape. Updates on the size/weight will be each Wednesday. Let's see what I can get to before July 3rd! That'll be judgement day for sure as sister and I have a bet going down.
Time to get ready, everyone. Until next time!
My first Karate class was Monday. I'm starting off at a size 8, 141 lbs, 5'5". My goal is to be 130 lbs and be able to get back into my damned size 6 skinny jeans - I had been able to when I was 132.
On the days I'm not at the Dojo, I'm walking the dogs and trying to exercise at home. All soda and junk food's been cut out of my diet, portions have been made smaller. Depressing, right?! I've even switched to soy milk! (At least, at work. Mom just bought a half gallon of 2% and putting that to waste would make me wince.)
I may go to the Dojo three times a week. Ideally, this will be Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday thing - get some in there for every portion of the week! This week is only Monday and Wednesday as I work Saturday morning (when the class takes place) and was frankly in too much pain to go yesterday. I promised Sensei Yuki that I would be in the class today, which makes me face the pain like a woman: with a smile and perfectly done hair. The severely scraped knee helps too but I'm learning to fall gracefully (read: without killing myself) and to do knuckle-push ups.
She says all the names of the moves in fast Japanese. I find it hard to keep up as my Japanese vocabulary is limited to a few words although it thankfully includes 'arigatou' so I can thank her properly. I don't care if that's spelled correctly or not. She says my ki-yah is fantastic; the other students thought I was her while I practiced my blocking in the back. They were doing katas! Haha!
It's already a favorite part of my week. While it's nerve wracking, being the only person there not knowing what's going down, it's also really fun to be taught things. Some of students are only eleven or twelve; one twelve year old girl turned to me before a certain exercise and said, very frankly, "This is going to hurt."
Fabulous.
Here's to weight loss and getting in shape. Updates on the size/weight will be each Wednesday. Let's see what I can get to before July 3rd! That'll be judgement day for sure as sister and I have a bet going down.
Time to get ready, everyone. Until next time!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Writing In Capitol Letters
One more time, blog! Another day, another ten million words. Or a thousand, whichever would be best to describe the way things are going. My mind has lately been plagued by Writing.
Capitol letters indeed! Why the capitol letters, one may ask, as it is very much -not- proper grammar. Has Erin lost her mind? Is she going to start spouting off things in incorrect English, more swear words than she already does? Horror! The Apocalypse! All of these horrid things, etc, etc!
It's capitalized as a title of what's going on through my messed up little brain. For years, the act of putting words to paper or screen while somehow forming a coherent and intelligent story has been the main focus of my life. Most of those words came out to utter crap, a story in the barest sense of the phrase with trite and unrealistic characters akin to glittering vampires and blood mixed with chocolate. Sometimes I knew immediately these things should never see the light of day and the characters should be burnt at the stake of Writing in a tribute and sacrifice to whatever gods actually pay attention to the inane blathering of some fifteen year old girl.
I'm twenty-three. My first story was a coloring book I did in the second grade with the help of a boy in class. It exploded from there. According to my parents I always had an overactive imagination and a glare that could tell even the most oblivious person that I wanted them to eff off and decompose somewhere dank and hot.
At thirteen I wrote a sixty page story about Amazon warriors and a guy with a plot I can't even remember. Fifteen came Ten of Light, a story that introduced a few of my favorite characters to date; this includes but is not limited to do Jacquiline Bardot. She was called Jackiline Barduo at that time and tended towards cross-dressing to fit in at her school due to a larger and more masculine stature. She's had the same personality although the back-story, motivation, appearance and overall story have changed drastically (thank god).
That story was also the last story I wrote that I allowed someone I knew face-to-face to read. When fronted with the only critique I remembered of "They swear a lot", I stopped handing off my pages of chicken scratch. Posting online came about, along with the story "Normal" about a gay 'coming of age' tale that (typically, for me) included swearing, violence, and a small curvy woman and large man combo, along with a bad attempt at historical fiction revolving around one of Jesus' sisters.
Normal, Water Age, Priests Tale, 2081 - all of them came from the smallest ideas and every single one of those stupid stories has infested my brain. They have all had altered plot lines, different side characters and underlying tones.
Text-based role-playing unfortunately hindered my writing for several years. It wasn't until National Novel Writing Month '06 that I actually got back into plotting, writing, trying to develop characters that weren't some distorted version of myself (Hello, Ian, Adali, and Jacqui!). Melosa and Atia flew into my brain, my very first lesbian couple I'd ever written. Their story bombed but Hanami and Ha'Neul came into play. I still intend to finish their story at some point.
Creative Writing kicked me into gear. After a horrible CW teacher back in High School, University had been held to high expectations. My teacher was one of the best I've ever come across before and since. She pushed for students to edit and supported my ruthless and cut throat method of editing, with gashes and insults and demanding changes be made lest I hurl high lighters at them for comma errors and boring paragraphs.
Like all good things, Creative Writing I and II came to an end with each semester. For a long time after, I couldn't even pick up a pen. What was the motivation? I couldn't post these things online for critique, not if I wanted them published at some point in time. The former students of my class, the ones who made a competition of who could receive the least amount of bad reviews from me, were busy and didn't have time to get to everyone. I missed it.
What does all this blathering have to do with anything? It has nothing to do with writing, nothing to do with this blog post, at least, i think so. It's the prologue to what's about to go down, the backdrop and back story to my future career.
In just the last few months, the bug has come back. My brain kicked back into gear and began to thrust stories, words back into my consciousness. The itch in my fingers returned, forcing me to take hold of my pen, write without planning except vague ideas of what would happen. Writing on the computer is rough for me. The words fly so quickly from brain to fingers that I don't have a chance to think about what it is I'm actually writing.
Maybe it's the B12 vitamins I started to take with my typical BPD meds in the morning or the idea of I WILL change my life, which things are finally moving in the order of where I want to be. Virginia is not the place I ever imagined moving to, especially not so close to the big cities, but more and more the idea appeals to me: it's beautiful up there.
Plans are coming together. With that, so are my stories. It seems stress is the key factor to getting writers block for me. Who would've guessed. (Why yes, yes that is sarcasm. Thank you so much for noticing) I've even finished a short story! - Although I have no friggin' idea where the first three pages went to. Currently trying to dig those things up.
Karate starts tomorrow. I have a sinking feeling I will be up all tomorrow night writing; adrenaline rushes and working out always makes me utterly filled with inspiration. I'm starting this weighing 151 lbs, having putting 19 since I 'finished' loosing it, and a size 8/10. My goal is 130, to be in shape, to be able to fit into the clinging purple top and the skinny dark blue jeans I bought as my goal outfit.
This entire process will be filled with writing, work, hopefully some school to get that damned AA. Writing is directly affected by my daily ongoing to life. I -will- write at least a thousand words to day, I will, and I'll win this year’s NaNoWriMo again.
I will I will I will!
Writing is once again going to be a major force in my life. With the pen to paper, the fingers to the keys, the imagination to the over drive. I may never be published, never be polished or witty or interesting enough to be out there, but the writing will be done.
Read on, fellow bloggers! Never let your fear of inadequacy get you down! Go and do what it is your passion falls to, be what you want to be! Believe! Write!
Go and be awesome! I say it is so! Write, write, write!
Till next time!
Capitol letters indeed! Why the capitol letters, one may ask, as it is very much -not- proper grammar. Has Erin lost her mind? Is she going to start spouting off things in incorrect English, more swear words than she already does? Horror! The Apocalypse! All of these horrid things, etc, etc!
It's capitalized as a title of what's going on through my messed up little brain. For years, the act of putting words to paper or screen while somehow forming a coherent and intelligent story has been the main focus of my life. Most of those words came out to utter crap, a story in the barest sense of the phrase with trite and unrealistic characters akin to glittering vampires and blood mixed with chocolate. Sometimes I knew immediately these things should never see the light of day and the characters should be burnt at the stake of Writing in a tribute and sacrifice to whatever gods actually pay attention to the inane blathering of some fifteen year old girl.
I'm twenty-three. My first story was a coloring book I did in the second grade with the help of a boy in class. It exploded from there. According to my parents I always had an overactive imagination and a glare that could tell even the most oblivious person that I wanted them to eff off and decompose somewhere dank and hot.
At thirteen I wrote a sixty page story about Amazon warriors and a guy with a plot I can't even remember. Fifteen came Ten of Light, a story that introduced a few of my favorite characters to date; this includes but is not limited to do Jacquiline Bardot. She was called Jackiline Barduo at that time and tended towards cross-dressing to fit in at her school due to a larger and more masculine stature. She's had the same personality although the back-story, motivation, appearance and overall story have changed drastically (thank god).
That story was also the last story I wrote that I allowed someone I knew face-to-face to read. When fronted with the only critique I remembered of "They swear a lot", I stopped handing off my pages of chicken scratch. Posting online came about, along with the story "Normal" about a gay 'coming of age' tale that (typically, for me) included swearing, violence, and a small curvy woman and large man combo, along with a bad attempt at historical fiction revolving around one of Jesus' sisters.
Normal, Water Age, Priests Tale, 2081 - all of them came from the smallest ideas and every single one of those stupid stories has infested my brain. They have all had altered plot lines, different side characters and underlying tones.
Text-based role-playing unfortunately hindered my writing for several years. It wasn't until National Novel Writing Month '06 that I actually got back into plotting, writing, trying to develop characters that weren't some distorted version of myself (Hello, Ian, Adali, and Jacqui!). Melosa and Atia flew into my brain, my very first lesbian couple I'd ever written. Their story bombed but Hanami and Ha'Neul came into play. I still intend to finish their story at some point.
Creative Writing kicked me into gear. After a horrible CW teacher back in High School, University had been held to high expectations. My teacher was one of the best I've ever come across before and since. She pushed for students to edit and supported my ruthless and cut throat method of editing, with gashes and insults and demanding changes be made lest I hurl high lighters at them for comma errors and boring paragraphs.
Like all good things, Creative Writing I and II came to an end with each semester. For a long time after, I couldn't even pick up a pen. What was the motivation? I couldn't post these things online for critique, not if I wanted them published at some point in time. The former students of my class, the ones who made a competition of who could receive the least amount of bad reviews from me, were busy and didn't have time to get to everyone. I missed it.
What does all this blathering have to do with anything? It has nothing to do with writing, nothing to do with this blog post, at least, i think so. It's the prologue to what's about to go down, the backdrop and back story to my future career.
In just the last few months, the bug has come back. My brain kicked back into gear and began to thrust stories, words back into my consciousness. The itch in my fingers returned, forcing me to take hold of my pen, write without planning except vague ideas of what would happen. Writing on the computer is rough for me. The words fly so quickly from brain to fingers that I don't have a chance to think about what it is I'm actually writing.
Maybe it's the B12 vitamins I started to take with my typical BPD meds in the morning or the idea of I WILL change my life, which things are finally moving in the order of where I want to be. Virginia is not the place I ever imagined moving to, especially not so close to the big cities, but more and more the idea appeals to me: it's beautiful up there.
Plans are coming together. With that, so are my stories. It seems stress is the key factor to getting writers block for me. Who would've guessed. (Why yes, yes that is sarcasm. Thank you so much for noticing) I've even finished a short story! - Although I have no friggin' idea where the first three pages went to. Currently trying to dig those things up.
Karate starts tomorrow. I have a sinking feeling I will be up all tomorrow night writing; adrenaline rushes and working out always makes me utterly filled with inspiration. I'm starting this weighing 151 lbs, having putting 19 since I 'finished' loosing it, and a size 8/10. My goal is 130, to be in shape, to be able to fit into the clinging purple top and the skinny dark blue jeans I bought as my goal outfit.
This entire process will be filled with writing, work, hopefully some school to get that damned AA. Writing is directly affected by my daily ongoing to life. I -will- write at least a thousand words to day, I will, and I'll win this year’s NaNoWriMo again.
I will I will I will!
Writing is once again going to be a major force in my life. With the pen to paper, the fingers to the keys, the imagination to the over drive. I may never be published, never be polished or witty or interesting enough to be out there, but the writing will be done.
Read on, fellow bloggers! Never let your fear of inadequacy get you down! Go and do what it is your passion falls to, be what you want to be! Believe! Write!
Go and be awesome! I say it is so! Write, write, write!
Till next time!
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Jesus, it's May already?!
Talk about being hit with the 'WTF' stick! Ha, I never really expected it to be May so soon. Silly, yes, but who knows how the human mind works.
The absence is due to the fact I've actually been writing lately. It's amazing. Well, the writing isn't as I'm hardly polished and it's all coming out like shining-vampire drivel but it's coming out and will be typed up to be refined. That's all that matters at this point! Mermaid story was finally spat out, currently working on Little Red Riding Hood. Fun times all around.
Mom is out of town for the weekend. I am cleaning in her absence. This is half-due to the fact I realized I liked how clean my room is (one day and one bottle of redline, baby) and the other half is because it makes HER happy, which in turn just makes life rather awesome. Hopefully it'll be somewhat shiny when she returns tomorrow.
Dad is gone to Virginia. That sort of added to the whole not wanting to post about my life bit. It sucks with him gone. My father's never been more than fifteen minutes away, whether or not I appreciated that fact when I was an itty thing. The night before he left, we ate at the local seafood place, watched Avatar at my sisters house, and around nine bid our goodbyes. Sister cried, I did not. I still haven't, a fact I still don't find disturbing. Some others do! I miss him and consider that the only thing that matters.
More projects had flown into my head, one of which is the crazy notion of learning karate. Starting Monday, I'll be signing up for three months worth of classes and working my ass off to excel at it. Discipline is something I lack. I covet it! I will get it! Etc, etc,.
I wish this post had more meat to it than the lame rambles and general on-goings. I'm going to try and document everything going down with karate, maybe with the whole 'gaining discipline' thing I'm hitting up. Either way, it'll be fun. My next post with something at least decent will hopefully be out this week.
Till next time!
The absence is due to the fact I've actually been writing lately. It's amazing. Well, the writing isn't as I'm hardly polished and it's all coming out like shining-vampire drivel but it's coming out and will be typed up to be refined. That's all that matters at this point! Mermaid story was finally spat out, currently working on Little Red Riding Hood. Fun times all around.
Mom is out of town for the weekend. I am cleaning in her absence. This is half-due to the fact I realized I liked how clean my room is (one day and one bottle of redline, baby) and the other half is because it makes HER happy, which in turn just makes life rather awesome. Hopefully it'll be somewhat shiny when she returns tomorrow.
Dad is gone to Virginia. That sort of added to the whole not wanting to post about my life bit. It sucks with him gone. My father's never been more than fifteen minutes away, whether or not I appreciated that fact when I was an itty thing. The night before he left, we ate at the local seafood place, watched Avatar at my sisters house, and around nine bid our goodbyes. Sister cried, I did not. I still haven't, a fact I still don't find disturbing. Some others do! I miss him and consider that the only thing that matters.
More projects had flown into my head, one of which is the crazy notion of learning karate. Starting Monday, I'll be signing up for three months worth of classes and working my ass off to excel at it. Discipline is something I lack. I covet it! I will get it! Etc, etc,.
I wish this post had more meat to it than the lame rambles and general on-goings. I'm going to try and document everything going down with karate, maybe with the whole 'gaining discipline' thing I'm hitting up. Either way, it'll be fun. My next post with something at least decent will hopefully be out this week.
Till next time!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Another Dy, Another Dollar
Padre just came over to pick up some things from the garage he had stored here. It was a sad moment, seeing the back of his van packed up with things he was putting into storage just down the block. Bittersweet, as a companion of mine put it. Bittersweet.
I realized yesterday that I have at least two blog posts written down but never typed. They'll probably never see the light of day! The weird thing is that those are the happy, optimistic blog posts - you poor folks are subjected to my utter emo and grump. Sorry about that. The three page rant about how tea is delicious may be typed up either way, very hopefully posted; I rather liked it. A lovely use of words if I'm allowed to be arrogant and proud for a wee moment. It doesn't happen often.
Hopefully a haircut will be done this lovely day. I've been the victim of jaw length hair for about a month now. Luckily for me and my poor hairdresser, I took photos from the back, side and front of the previous haircut so I have full color references of what I want down and how I want it done. Be proud, Beth! I thought ahead.
My former-future roommate talked to me, sort of. She stood up for me when an ex got on my case for wanting short hair; the ex called short hair feminine and insinuated that it meant I would not be lovely and femme without my longer hair. Once the former-future roommate stood up for me, the ex insulted how she looked! Sparks flew. It was epic, amazing and I fell utterly in love all over again with former-future roomie.
I typo'd 'love' into 'loe'. Blogger didn't give me the red line (but did this second time) - a mystery of spell check and Blogger! A conspiracy? I think so.
There was an article in a science magazine I have somewhere in my hell hole of a room in January about blogs and how social communication websites are actually ruining social interactions. According to this article, it made people think they had an actual voice and fresh thoughts, giving them the confidence to write these things online but failing to actually follow through.
Have I written about this before? Possibly. Either way, I think of that article every time I write in any of my blogs. For me blogs aren't so much about having a 'voice' on the internet but they are for getting out what I'm thinking in a coherant, somewhat organized manner. In person or over the internet in regular conversation, I have the tendency to blather about rather random subjects and in great jumbled masses of words. Long words. Exceedingly odd words with supposedly odder pronunciation. (Did you know that 'caramel' is pronounced 'car-mul' instead of 'car-a-mel'? I didn't. I like my version better.)
Voices are overrated. Writing about my travels this year is about me and keeping my family informed about my on goings without having to repeat myself seven times at a time. It means I will be able to look back this Christmas and remember what, exactly, was going down at that time last year. It's an exciting prospect, people! This process is akin to looking back in your high school journals: exceedingly embaressing but completely required for human growth.
Speaking of blathering, the tea has kicked in. Going to go get those silly pictures done, now.
Until next time (and a possible tea rant), peace!
-Erin
I realized yesterday that I have at least two blog posts written down but never typed. They'll probably never see the light of day! The weird thing is that those are the happy, optimistic blog posts - you poor folks are subjected to my utter emo and grump. Sorry about that. The three page rant about how tea is delicious may be typed up either way, very hopefully posted; I rather liked it. A lovely use of words if I'm allowed to be arrogant and proud for a wee moment. It doesn't happen often.
Hopefully a haircut will be done this lovely day. I've been the victim of jaw length hair for about a month now. Luckily for me and my poor hairdresser, I took photos from the back, side and front of the previous haircut so I have full color references of what I want down and how I want it done. Be proud, Beth! I thought ahead.
My former-future roommate talked to me, sort of. She stood up for me when an ex got on my case for wanting short hair; the ex called short hair feminine and insinuated that it meant I would not be lovely and femme without my longer hair. Once the former-future roommate stood up for me, the ex insulted how she looked! Sparks flew. It was epic, amazing and I fell utterly in love all over again with former-future roomie.
I typo'd 'love' into 'loe'. Blogger didn't give me the red line (but did this second time) - a mystery of spell check and Blogger! A conspiracy? I think so.
There was an article in a science magazine I have somewhere in my hell hole of a room in January about blogs and how social communication websites are actually ruining social interactions. According to this article, it made people think they had an actual voice and fresh thoughts, giving them the confidence to write these things online but failing to actually follow through.
Have I written about this before? Possibly. Either way, I think of that article every time I write in any of my blogs. For me blogs aren't so much about having a 'voice' on the internet but they are for getting out what I'm thinking in a coherant, somewhat organized manner. In person or over the internet in regular conversation, I have the tendency to blather about rather random subjects and in great jumbled masses of words. Long words. Exceedingly odd words with supposedly odder pronunciation. (Did you know that 'caramel' is pronounced 'car-mul' instead of 'car-a-mel'? I didn't. I like my version better.)
Voices are overrated. Writing about my travels this year is about me and keeping my family informed about my on goings without having to repeat myself seven times at a time. It means I will be able to look back this Christmas and remember what, exactly, was going down at that time last year. It's an exciting prospect, people! This process is akin to looking back in your high school journals: exceedingly embaressing but completely required for human growth.
Speaking of blathering, the tea has kicked in. Going to go get those silly pictures done, now.
Until next time (and a possible tea rant), peace!
-Erin
Monday, April 12, 2010
He got it!
Dad officially got the job! Hurrah! He starts April 26th and congratulations are definately in order as of now! Dancing was included - and high-fives.
My previous entries in recent times have been spurred on by emo, something I find distasteful. Ewwwww. It's also been cause for people to worry and mention these things to me outloud. Talking about my feelings isn't a strong point and is something I find highly distasteful (as anyone who has attempted to do this will tell you, O Readers). In fact, avoidance is my favorite way to deal with emotional matters.
THIS blog post, however, is not fueled by emo. It isn't being pressed on by pure joy and candy-farting unicorns but it surely isn't some depressing rant of blah-ness. No, it's brought on by my farting DOG, dear lord ugh.
Moving will be happening. My last class will be ending August 10th, something to lend me plenty of time to prepare. The idea of leaving cape coral is immensely pleasurable to me, although leaving my family and friends that I have down here so close to the holidays will be difficult. The idea of getting my BA in Virginia and returning to Florida just long enough to get a Certification from FSU is present and tempting.
Who knows? Certianly not me.
Summer B means the probability of me going to Vancouver for the fireworks is diminished by great amounts. This is also sad but what can you do? They didn't have the class i needed for Summer A so I take what I can get.
I have a severely TMI post in the works, designing a logo for this silly blog, and have put all of my books in planning and in progress IN ORDER finally oh god; now I have to compile all the notes I have for them before I move so I'm not hauling along ten million binders of absolute crap-tastic notes, half of which are out of date and not relevant to the story now anyway!
There are twelve stories in the planning stages or currently being worked on. One is the designated 'NaNoWriMo Only' book and five or so are my fairy-tale short stories so it's not horrid.
Today was a good day. A busy as hell work week is to follow!
Until next time, O Blog-
Erin
My previous entries in recent times have been spurred on by emo, something I find distasteful. Ewwwww. It's also been cause for people to worry and mention these things to me outloud. Talking about my feelings isn't a strong point and is something I find highly distasteful (as anyone who has attempted to do this will tell you, O Readers). In fact, avoidance is my favorite way to deal with emotional matters.
THIS blog post, however, is not fueled by emo. It isn't being pressed on by pure joy and candy-farting unicorns but it surely isn't some depressing rant of blah-ness. No, it's brought on by my farting DOG, dear lord ugh.
Moving will be happening. My last class will be ending August 10th, something to lend me plenty of time to prepare. The idea of leaving cape coral is immensely pleasurable to me, although leaving my family and friends that I have down here so close to the holidays will be difficult. The idea of getting my BA in Virginia and returning to Florida just long enough to get a Certification from FSU is present and tempting.
Who knows? Certianly not me.
Summer B means the probability of me going to Vancouver for the fireworks is diminished by great amounts. This is also sad but what can you do? They didn't have the class i needed for Summer A so I take what I can get.
I have a severely TMI post in the works, designing a logo for this silly blog, and have put all of my books in planning and in progress IN ORDER finally oh god; now I have to compile all the notes I have for them before I move so I'm not hauling along ten million binders of absolute crap-tastic notes, half of which are out of date and not relevant to the story now anyway!
There are twelve stories in the planning stages or currently being worked on. One is the designated 'NaNoWriMo Only' book and five or so are my fairy-tale short stories so it's not horrid.
Today was a good day. A busy as hell work week is to follow!
Until next time, O Blog-
Erin
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Well, crud.
I'm not exactly sure what to write here anymore; the move didn't happen and I've been all but isolated. This is the sixth time I've tried to write this post and there are at least three different drafts.
After the car accident, I needed a new car, I needed to get this and that, and I thought I was going to loose my car. Things were bad, I was broke - I am broke, honestly. D stopped talking to me once I was unable to go so, yeah, that's quite fun.
This blog is here, regardless, and that means I will keep posting. This year will be eventful no matter what, even if it doesn't span to California or even outside of my rinky-dink town. My father got a job in Virginia, one he's been waiting for, and he asked me to go with him. Ashley wants me to move into his old place with her and her boyfriend. I don't want to stay home; I love my mother but I honestly think I'd love her more if we didn't live together.
I'm not sure what to do. Escape is clear on the Virginia horizon, it means I can go and get out to live in somewhere far off and beautiful. Ashley needs to escape as well, to get the hell out of her house and get from under her parents thumb... We've been talking as if it is set in stone. Moving with her is safer, moving with Dad is tempting, far too tempting.
Kelly thinks I should go. She hasn't given bad advice since I've known her; she's usually the voice of sanity to my ranting and a pretty shower of calmness whenever I need her to be. But - Ashley.
I can whine and bitch about Ashley and what happens between us but when it all boils down, I am horribly protective of the girl. Her current state of affairs honestly upsets me and this - this is her chance of 'getting out' just as much as it is mine. If we don't, she and her boyfriend can't afford to move out on their own. I'm not sure if *I* can afford to move out period. Time will tell.
A coworker pointed out I was at a fork in the road - how true! Oh woe is me for having more than just one choice on what I can or cannot do. This isn't like moving to California. Moving there was to be with D, so I could live in a place where I wasn't odd or strange and, yes, just getting my lily white butt out of here.
Maybe it'd be easier to just scream, "PEACE" and run to Virginia with my tail between my legs. Correction - it would be.
Does this count as a 'count down' post? Maybe.
Peace, blog. Until the very soon 'next time'-
Erin
After the car accident, I needed a new car, I needed to get this and that, and I thought I was going to loose my car. Things were bad, I was broke - I am broke, honestly. D stopped talking to me once I was unable to go so, yeah, that's quite fun.
This blog is here, regardless, and that means I will keep posting. This year will be eventful no matter what, even if it doesn't span to California or even outside of my rinky-dink town. My father got a job in Virginia, one he's been waiting for, and he asked me to go with him. Ashley wants me to move into his old place with her and her boyfriend. I don't want to stay home; I love my mother but I honestly think I'd love her more if we didn't live together.
I'm not sure what to do. Escape is clear on the Virginia horizon, it means I can go and get out to live in somewhere far off and beautiful. Ashley needs to escape as well, to get the hell out of her house and get from under her parents thumb... We've been talking as if it is set in stone. Moving with her is safer, moving with Dad is tempting, far too tempting.
Kelly thinks I should go. She hasn't given bad advice since I've known her; she's usually the voice of sanity to my ranting and a pretty shower of calmness whenever I need her to be. But - Ashley.
I can whine and bitch about Ashley and what happens between us but when it all boils down, I am horribly protective of the girl. Her current state of affairs honestly upsets me and this - this is her chance of 'getting out' just as much as it is mine. If we don't, she and her boyfriend can't afford to move out on their own. I'm not sure if *I* can afford to move out period. Time will tell.
A coworker pointed out I was at a fork in the road - how true! Oh woe is me for having more than just one choice on what I can or cannot do. This isn't like moving to California. Moving there was to be with D, so I could live in a place where I wasn't odd or strange and, yes, just getting my lily white butt out of here.
Maybe it'd be easier to just scream, "PEACE" and run to Virginia with my tail between my legs. Correction - it would be.
Does this count as a 'count down' post? Maybe.
Peace, blog. Until the very soon 'next time'-
Erin
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