Dirty Laundry

I'm not entirely sure when it became appropriate to air ones grievances in public, but apparently is is now a common and acceptable practice. I have seen it numerous times on various networking sites, and at various business and social functions.

Recently, I angered someone. The details of what I did or did not do are irrelevant. The fact of the matter is that someone was angry with me and instead of speaking directly to me, this individual posted her feelings about the situation on Facebook, for all eyes to see. and for people to comment on and "like."

In another instance, during a board meeting for a non-profit, a young woman began berating her ex in front of a room full of people. She, like the other individual referenced above, seemed to think this activity was perfectly fine and appropriate. Meanwhile those of us sitting and waiting during the meeting had to listen as she dredged up past mistakes and issues.

In my world, when you are upset at someone, you speak with that person. You privately contact the person you are upset with and say, "Hey, that was  not okay.  I am very upset that you did this."

As I am writing this, I am fully aware that this is like the pot calling the kettle black.  So, I'll make this a PSA: if you are upset with someone, instead of airing your dirty laundry in public, speak directly to that individual. It will save both you and s/he much embarrassment and may actually diffuse the anger instead of accelerate it.

Three Beautiful Things: 7.27.11

1. Being called adorable by a good looking guy.

2. Bringing a friend to his first ever Red Sox Game and watching his eyes light up when the team comes running out on to the field.

3. Fresh blackberries straight off the vine and eaten still warm from the sun.

Becoming a Nerd

Once I was a nerd.

I became a nerd when I was a young girl. Blame Terry Brooks and Dungeons and Dragons. Blame Star Wars and the original Star Trek T.V. show. Blame J. R. R. Tolkein and the first Doctor.  I was a nerd, and I was good at being a nerd. I played AD&D every weekend, wrote my own dungeons, was part of the D&D club at school. I set my dungeons in the Shire, and had a hobbit for a character. I saw each and every one of the Star Trek movies... except maybe number six... And I probably saw them in the theater. I saw every Star Wars movie and know I saw at least Return of the Jedi in the theater. My brother and I used to use empty wrapping paper tubes to fight with, pretending they were light sabers.  I read Terry Brook's chronicles of Shanarra. I read The Hobbit. I was a nerd.

Then I wasn't a nerd.

In college, I discovered that being a nerd wasn't cool. Anything I did that was remotely nerdy made me a target for humiliation. I wanted to join the D&D club; I joined a sorority instead. I wanted to watch Star Trek; I watched Aeon Fluxx or Daria on MTV instead. I wanted to read more Tolkein, or Terry Brooks; I read romance novels, mysteries and classics instead.  I stopped being a nerd; I started being "cool."

Except I wasn't.

After college, I got a job at a bookstore. I met people. I rediscovered Terry Brooks and J.R.R. Tolkein. I discovered Terry Pratchett. I met a nerd. She and I became friends. She introduced me to other nerds. I became friends with them. I started watching anime.  I started watching Dr. Who, Firefly, Eureka and Torchwood. I know what a sonic screwdriver is. I read Manga. I play D&D. I bought a Nintendo DS; I began to play Pokemon, Final Fantasy, Zelda, and Rune Factory. I cosplay Kaylee from Firefly, Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle and wear cat ears as often as I'm able. I watched several of the Star Trek movies. I began to play a Star Trek card game.

I am becoming a nerd. Again.  And now I may not be "cool," but I am happy.

Let's Talk Sex

Over the last year I have had several conversations about my sexual identity, experiences,  wants, desires, fantasies and fears. It has occurred to me that not once have I truly allowed myself to act on these sexual urges. I tamp them down until I become a mass of raging hormones and horniness. And then, like a wave, the urges overwhelm me and I find I have to take matters into my own hands- literally.

Guys are the ones I've had some of the most frank discussions about sex with. I have been open with them regarding my ten plus years of celibacy - not by choice mind you- and my lack of overall experience in bed. They seem to view it as a challenge or they feel sadness for me and make promises they won't or can't keep.

During the last two months I've had two guys offer to buy me a dildo. I kindly refused their offers, probably to their disappointment. I now wonder what the outcome would have been, if I had said yes.

One offered that we could "help each other." Tempting though that seems, we are both worried about how that would impact our relationship and friendship.

Another young man and I enjoyed ourselves one night with some hot and heavy sexting... this one night was the closest to sex I've had in years. It was also strangely fulfilling. Now, after that bit of a tease, I find myself wanting to call him and invite him out and jump him. As I told a friend: "I want to molest that guy. I want to do dirty dirty things to him." Given a chance, I would ravish him and take as much pleasure as I could. Even though he is ten years younger than my thirty-four years, I would throw myself at him.

So, what holds me back?  Fear. Fear that I would not be pleasing to a man. Fear that I could not find pleasure in a one night stand, and would be guilty or regretful. Fear of diseases or violence or subjugation.  It is time for me to overcome these fears. The question is, how can I push past these fears and who should I choose to help?

Unfinished: Mindrift

This is a post that I began back in February right before I stopped writing.  I feel that I should post it, so I'm gonna:


On Friday night, I was feeling better. Still tired and a bit rundown and dehydrated, but well enough to head out to a bar with my friend Matt. He had invited me to the bar to see a friend/colleague of ours, Sean, play in his band, Mindrift. The gig was supposed to start at 10, but we got there at about 9:15.  I'm glad we did because the tables in front of the stage filled up quite quickly. 

We ordered drinks and watched the band do their sound check, checked out Sean's butt as often as we could, chatted and generally waited around. Another colleague, Cathie, showed up and joined us.

After about a half hour, Sean came over and greeted us. He have me a hug and Oh My God did he smell good!  It was good to see him again, I hadn't seen him since May. We chatted.

Sean left and prepared to be awesome.

The world is a better place

Soon after my last post I began to feel horrible about "life, the universe, and everything."

I would head out with friends and would become so fed up with them and irritated by them after only an hour or so.  I began to hate everything and not care about things that I usually loved.

I no longer wanted to do anything except stay in bed all day.  Even spending time with my nephew, whom I love dearly, was a chore. I stopped writing this blog.  I just didn't care about anything.

For a while, a week or two, I was able to fake enjoyment. Put on a bright smile, laugh, giggle, squee and create a sense of enjoyment. But every time I looked at myself in the mirror, that bright personality shattered.  My eyes looked dead, soulless, vacant. I looked and felt like a zombie.

The end came when I spent a day with my three closest girlfriends; they are more like sisters to me than friends. We went shopping, something I usually enjoyed. As we wandered around the stores, I became more and more discontented and angry. Not at them, but at myself.  I knew that something was wrong with me. Every time one of them laughed I would become so jealous and envious, and angry.  Why the hell couldn't I feel that joy I used to feel at just being alive, why couldn't I feel that happiness, that vigor, that pull in life that  in the past had kept me wanting to do more and more?

Moments after they dropped me off at home, I began to cry; I bawled. And then I did the smartest thing: I called my doctor.

"I think I am depressed," I said to her, "I just don't feel right, I don't seem to care. I feel like I hate my friends, and that isn't me."

"That isn't a big surprise. You've been through a lot in the last year," she replied kindly, "Also, some of your medications can cause depression.  I'm actually surprised it took this long to become apparent. Come in on Monday, and we will get you started on an antidepressant."

Monday came, I went in to see her. I started taking the antidepressant.  At first, every time I took the pill, there would be sparkles in my brain and flashes of light in my vision- like glitter. Within a week I felt better. After two weeks I felt human.  Now, three months later, I feel amazing.  I have such drive for life and excitement for even the small things.  Oh, and I'm writing again.  The world is now a better place for me. 

Ugh: Wednesday and Thursday

My last post was last Wednesday. My week since then has been crazy busy and exhausting. Normally my week regularly includes two days of babysitting for my 18 month old nephew, my art class on Wednesday night, and seeing friends on Saturday night. This week has held more crazyness than I have been accustomed to.

Wednesday night, I ran late to my art class because I left late and people in other cars apparently don't know how to drive. The class was fun, as always, but more exhausting than usual. We learned bamboo and dragonflies. I will share my attempts with you in a later post.

By the end of class I felt utterly drained. I had spent most of the afternoon on the phone answering questions for my insurance agency. The woman I was talking to had as much warmth as a snowball in the antarctic. So, I had already been very tired when I got to class, so by the end I was so tired I could hardly keep my feet under me.

When I got home I felt so much worse that I asked my mother to babysit my nephew the next day instead of me. She agreed. I drank a glass of grapefruit juice and took my evening medications and climbed into bed.

Half past midnight, on the dot, I woke up and rushed into the bathroom and became violently ill. This continued the entire night. What made it worse was that every time I vomited my nose would begin to run. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences I have had in a long time. Every hour, on the hour, I was in the bathroom on my knees with my head in the toilet bowl. In between, I would huddle in my bed wrapped in a fleece blanket or sit on the bathroom floor, leaned up against the wall, wrapped in the same. At around four thirty in the morning the vomiting, etc, finally let up and I was able to get a few hours of sleep. I woke on Thursday still feeling poorly, and the moment I sat up I had to reach for the handy waste basket I keep next to my bed. Ugh.

I stayed in bed for a bit, until the heaves were finished and then made myself a nest downstairs in the easy chair for the day. In between cat naps, I read yet another Terry Pratchett novel. I drank two glasses of tap water and later in the day, tried some saltine crackers and lemon seltzer water. For dinner I had cream of wheat. I showered and went to bed. 

When I woke on Friday, I felt much better and felt nearly human again after a warm shower. Friday held a surprise of its own: Mindrift. Read about it in my next post.

Three Beautiful Things: 2.16.11

1. Needing to wear my sunglasses while driving because the sun was so bright.

2. Temperatures getting into 50's by this weekend.

3. Re-reading Ladies' Number One Detective Agency  by Alexander McCall Smith and remembering how much I love the characters in the series.

Lan Orchid

On Wednesday, I had my first Asian Brush Painting class. I really enjoyed myself. It felt good to be using my brain again to learn new things.  I have been out of work for nearly a year now (for why, see Just Another Day) and have felt like my brain is dying slowly; my memory is not what it was so any form of cerebral exercise is bound to be good for it.  This past week I, and eight other newbies, learned several simple brush strokes. These strokes put together create a lovely Lan Orchid. Well, lovely after a lot of practice.  My attempts are just merely pretty. I spent a good portion of Friday morning practicing the Lan Orchid and have attached several of my attempts below. I am still struggling with the stem, but am pretty pleased overall with my success.

The stem on this orchid is too thick, but the grass is good.
I like the flower on this one a lot. It is well balanced .

The drooping orchid is more difficult, and I feel I did an decent job on this one.
The stem here is more like what the stem should be.
The grass needs a bit of work.

This is my favorite.  The stem is nearly perfect for what is expected. 
The petals are beautiful and the grass is well balanced.

Subversive Knitting

Textile and fiber artists across the world engage in what I like to call drive by knitting- they call it yarn graffiti.  The time, effort and care these individuals take with their art is astounding.  Some projects are huge and probably take days to create.  I imagine the artist casually driving or walking by, seeing a tree or bicycle stand, pulling out a notebook and tape measure, looking furtively both ways to make sure no one is watching before making his/her secret plans for woolly subversion.  Then the artist sneaks off, plans, knits, measures, and then in the dark of night, secretly installs his/her knitting.  In the morning people wake up to wonderful surprises full of color, texture and warmth.  Check out a smattering of pictures below. See http://yarnbombing.com/ for more images and information.

All photos were taken from the website www.yarnbombing.com and are the intellectual property of their creators.

100 Words: Art Class

This past summer I went to a convention.  While at the convention I had the opportunity to try Asian Brush Painting.  I fell in love with it; I found myself drawn to the structure, simplicity and preciseness of this painting style.  When I returned home, I mentioned how much I loved it to my Mom.  She gave me an Asian Brush Painting class for Christmas.  Today is my first class. I am looking forward to working with the fat brushes and the dark ink. I expect that I will come home with black stained fingertips and proud attempts at art.

Three Beautiful Things: 2.8.11

1. One more step completed in the renovation of the back bedroom into a new sitting room: there is now light and electricity.

2. Twenty month old nephew's attempts to say "Stef" results in 'Teh'. Smiling as he pulls on my hand to get me on to the floor to play Legos with him: 'Teh, Teh, Teh'.

3. Yearly physical is over.

My List: U2 Songs

10. Please
9.  Do You Feel Loved
8.  Electrical Storm
7. Sweetest Thing
6. Mysterious Ways
5. Bullet the Blue Sky
4. Even Better Than the Real Thing
3. Desire
2. Love and Peace, or Else.
1. Sunday Bloody Sunday:

Three Beautiful Things: 2.6.11

1. The feel of  the luxurious wool and cashmere blend yarn running through my fingers as I teach myself how to crochet.

2. Sitting in the sun shining into the dining room, and relishing every ray as it warms my face. I can't help but smile; if I were a cat, I'd follow the sun around the house and take naps in it whenever I could.

3.Watching the icicles shimmer and melt in the light of the sun and begin to drip with a staccato plop-plop, plop, plop-plop-plop, plop.

Pteradactyl Turds on the Roof

Winter in New England has been fierce this year, and has led to several roofs in the area collapsing under the weight of all of the snow and ice.  To remedy this there are some options:

1. ignore it and pray the roof doesn't collapse
2. climb up on roof and shovel off the 2+ feet of snow
3. use a snow rake and pull snow off of roof
4. make salt or sodium chloride balls and toss them on to roof to promote melting

We chose number four at our house after we decided that number one can just lead to more cracks in the plaster of my bedroom ceiling (it is actually part of the roof, but finished nicely with plaster), and numbers two and three won't work because of the height, steepness of the roof and size of the house.

4. make salt or sodium chloride balls and toss them on to roof to promote melting

This is how it works:

Buy a couple bulk packages of knee highs, or pantyhose.  Buy a bag of rock salt or sodium chloride or other snow melting product.  Put a cup-ish full of the snow melt into toe of hose and tie a knot in hose to keep product in. Stand out side and face your roof, hold  the end of nylon that doesn't contain the snow melt, swing the package around as if you were swinging a jump rope and let go at the top of the arc so that the package flies up and lands on the roof. Do this several times- say one package of hose per side of house (we used 19 knee highs per one side of the house- whould have had twenty, but dog caught one and tore it apart.) Eventually the snow melt will sink down into the snow making the bottom layer of snow melt causing the snow to slide off of the roof.

There is one drawback- when you are finished it will look like there are Pteradactyl turds on the roof.

Three Beautiful Things: 1.31.11

1. The notification that U2 is releasing a new album in May!

2. The understanding that along with a new album usually comes a new tour to support that album, and that U2 nearly always comes to the Boston area.

3. The possibility of seeing U2 again in concert.

Even dogs like snow days

If you don't know, I live in New England, and this year has been a crazy snowy year so far.  I don't remember ever seeing this much snow in such a short time since I was a little girl. We've had a storm a week for about four weeks, and apparently we've got another coming in again next week. *sigh* I like snow, it reminds me of simpler days of snowmen, snow angels, sledding and snowball fights, but there comes a time when even a snow liker will say: "enough is enough!"


The second snowstorm we had here lasted nearly 12 hours.  During those hours, I managed to carve some time out- read "muster the nerve"- to bundle myself up and head outside with Molly, the family's black labrador.  She loves snow.  She runs and jumps and plays and chases the snow when we toss it. Yeah, she loves snow days.  Now, there is so much snow that it is swallowing her up.  It is up past her shoulders and she can't hardly find a place that she can reach to do her business.  She is sad and a bit cranky; she just wants to play in it, but there is just too much for her.


Below I have attached some pictures of a happier snow day.

Back on track

Sometime around Christmas I became derailed from my writing.  I'm not sure what it was that derailed me, but I know what it was that started me up again: Matt. He, without truly meaning to, made me feel guilty for not writing.  So, I am attempting to get back on track.

I have decided to create a secondary blog: http://www.my2novels.blogspot.com/ where I will share and showcase my novels episodically.  This will force me to work on writing and revising my half finished novels.

I have been working on one of them- Eleanor Hayes- since I was in college and the others since 2006 and 2007 respectively... so actually there are three novels in progress, not two.  I had forgotten about the third until just this moment when I checked my documents folder on my desktop.

Eleanor Hayes is a mystery- I am actually expanding my senior project- a short story- into a full length novel.

Faerie Story is a paranormal romance novel featuring fairies and elves.

Vampire Romance is also a paranormal romance novel.

I am most excited and proud of my mystery.  Mystery was my first love when I began reading as a child.  I was a huge Nancy Drew fan and still love to read and re-read those classic mystery books. Even now the first section of the bookstore I go to is usually the mystery section.