Today's Agenda

Okay, so I've been known to terrify people with my agendas. 

You've seen them-- what I do during the day, and it's usually exhausting?

Well, yesterday we went to a knitting workshop on color work with the amazing Franklin Habit, and we had the best fun!!  I learned a few things (speed swatching, garter jacquard-- I feel so phisticated!)  

But today,  I'm staying with my friend, the wonderful Karen Rose, and we're here at a condo in Florida, and let's just say things run a little differently here...

*  ? o'clock-- wake up.  Get a message.

*  After message, breakfast.

*  After breakfast, walk on the beach!

*  After walk on the beach, knitting and good conversation.

* Lunch!

* More knitting and good conversation.

*  Go out to dinner

* Great TV and knitting

*  Blog a little, go to bed

Now, you all know me well enough to know this doesn't happen often in my lifetime. Tomorrow I've got a pretty busy day, including writing for deadline, and my knitting isn't just for relaxation--I'm giving away some items for swag gifts at Coastal Magic.  (I have two more pairs of the K-Pop mitts for giving away, and I'll probably have two more by the time the con starts--yay!)

And maybe I'll call some senators too. 

But sometimes the noise of our lives gets overwhelming, and that's when we feel too hopeless to fight. 

Today was a wonderful recharge of the batteries--and I'm so grateful I had the chance to spend a quiet day with a good friend. 

Con Air

Okay-- so, it's dumb.

I was getting ready to fold clothes--and there's ALWAYS a LOT of clothes. I used to call it the laundry monster, remember? We'd pull clothes out of the clean pile and wear them and feed them to the dirty pile and repeat the process?

Well, anyway-- trying to catch up with the clothes thing--because yes, it needs to be done, and I'm packing tomorrow, and I like to have my choice of the underwear that don't fall down, that's why--and I start flipping through the channels.

And I stumble upon one of Mate's favorite movies.

Wait for it...

Con Air.

Yes, that Con Air, where we all looked at the pictures and thought, "I didn't think Nicholas Cage's hair could get any weirder!"  Where we went, "Oh, look! John Cusack's in this! He's ADORABLE. And an ACTION star!"

The one where Steve Buscemi talked about wearing a woman's head as a hat as he drove through three states.

THAT movie.

And I thought "Yanno... what the hell."

You have to understand-- every time I sat down to work today I got sucked down the political rabbit hole, and I was so. done. I needed something mindless, with explosions and pectorals to restore my faith in humanity and distract me from the fact that folding clothes is a chore that drives me batshit on the worst of days.

So there I was, watching Con Air, when Mate walked in.  And got immediately sucked in.

He stood there, leaning against the bed frame, arms folded, and recited most of the lines for about a fifteen minute section.

Now remember--politics. All day. Which left me feeling particularly icky. And suddenly, there's Mate, gleeful as a kid, and shit's going boom, and there's Nick Cage when he was buff and you know what?

For a little while, all was right with my world.

I need to remember that. Yes, politics are important right now--but so's shit-go-boom-and-pecs.  For all our sakes. If we can't laugh at a stupid movie while adulating, we're doing shit wrong.

Wednesday Evening

So, I leave in two days, and I'm behind deadline and I'm a little sick and I've got a dozen things todo and whine whine whine whine who cares.

Mostly, I had a normal day, and the most exceptional thing was that I got to talk to Aila, my aqua instructor, whom I haven't seen in a while. (She was caring for her mother.)  Anyway-- once again I got a hug, and it's starting to dawn on me how awesome women are.  Men can go for YEARS and never feel comfortable enough to voluntarily touch another human platonically with affection.

Women hand out hugs the way they hand out snacks and hats if it's cold: we know everybody needs it so just don't bother resisting. There you go. We'll take care of all that noise.

Anyway-- it was good to see her again. We talked about how bored our friend Trina is, now that she's recovering from foot surgery, and I love her so much, I can't wait until she gets back to urge us into fat-burning cardio once more!

Anyway, so there's that, and hanging with the family--and hanging with the family was especially good tonight. The kids and I told jokes and shared songs all the way back from their dance lessons, and when we got home, Mate and I got some cuddle time in front of the TV, and then it was family time.

Which sounds simple, but, once again, like women hugging, it's awesome.

I mean, yeah-- behind deadline, laundry all day, post office, folding, pack pack pack!

But, you know.

Cats, dogs, knitting, and Lethal Weapon on television.

I'm counting my blessings now more than ever. I've got some seriously good things in my life.

*purrrrrr*

A Trip to the Doc's

I had my "lady parts" visit today-- I've got a healthy family history, and with the exception of the weight I'm relatively healthy, so I get these about every two years.  In spite of the fact that Kaiser has been the closest thing to socialized medicine until the ACA, it's gotten really human in the last ten years. I've had the same Ob/Gyn since I was pregnant with ZoomBoy, and she's great.

Really great-- kind, young(er than me), stunningly pretty, and just everything you ever wanted to see in a successful doctor. She looks at pictures of my kids, asks about the career, tells me about her own kids (and yes--I saw her pregnant, in a sort of amusing turn of events.)

We had a good talk about people caring for each other, and how it's the reason we're here. When that stops happening, we're doomed.

I got a hug (in my circus tent and all) as she left, and I realized that hey, this doc appointment that every woman dreads was really not so bad.

I went down for my mammogram, and the woman there was VERY young, cute as a pixie, and while we mushed my boobs between the plates for the pictures, we talked about crocheting and how her daughter had learned how to do it, but was having difficulty because she'd forgotten parts, at six years old. The little girl is extremely OCD, and the crocheting was the only thing that seemed to help her relax, so I gave the lab tech Babetta's address, and told her that if she brought her daughter in with a problem, they could probably help her.

And I got a hug from her, too (while yet again, wearing a circus tent. The hugs were great-- the circus tents, oi!)

Anyway--

It was a lovely visit, with friendly people who did their job competently and wanted what was best for my body. I discussed weight loss with my doctor, and she told me I was the healthiest "large" patient she had (I was proud of that--don't know why) and generally, I felt proactive about my health and happy with the medical profession at large.

Of course, all of this was because Mate and I could afford health insurance.

We couldn't always.

When I got pregnant with Big T, we had none. We had to pledge a lot of money we didn't have to a barely competent asshole just to get prenatal care. So, you know, debt. I GOT health insurance when I got hired, but the laws protecting women from discrimination weren't in place then, and I was promptly fired at the semester when they realized I was pregnant, and then fired again from another school when child care caused me to call in sick too many times, and banned from the district at the end because I was just too much trouble.

And then we had no health  insurance, and I got pregnant with Chicken.  (Not that I regretted that, even when it happened. But there was definitely a cause/effect thing there.)

Had to get a welfare doctor then-- and she was nice, but damned condescending, and everybody in the hospital ignored me about pretty much everything including how far along in my labor I was when I walked in. (Oh, you're almost completely dilated? Well good for you. We had no idea you were that strong. We're so impressed. Erg.)  They kicked me out of the hospital 14 hours after Chicken was born. For men who think, "Well, suck it up, buttercup, that's just what happens and you need to be tough about it!" keep in mind that if they had done that after we had my third baby, he would have died of SIDS the night we brought him home, because his blood sugar dropped twelve hours after he was born and he went unresponsive. Had to feed him through a tube in the nose, which, by the way, if we hadn't had health insurance, we would still be paying for while we raised eight kids in a two bedroom apartment.

Of course we were lucky by then.

We had health insurance.

But if we hadn't had it, ZB wouldn't have made it.

I could go on and on and on--but I've done that here before.

I just wanted to say for the record I really appreciate my health care professionals, with all of my heart.

And that makes me so angry-- so VERY FUCKING ANGRY--at what Cheetoh McShitGibbon has done in office during the last two days to make sure that ONLY women with money will get decent health care again.

Because I've been the woman without money, and I've seen it from the other side, and it sucks ass.  It is dangerous for women, it is dangerous for children, and it feeds into a HORRIBLY unhealthy society.

And I know how important it is to my health that I have access to women's health now, and I"m so grateful for it, I can't even tell you. I can't articulate how awesome it is to not have to worry about it, and how human I felt to have health care professionals I trusted, and who lived in my community, take care of me.

And I can't even BRAIN how puckered angry white men think it's okay to stick their grimy unwelcome fists into women's vaginas and grope around a little and tell them why they have no rights to birth control or prenatal care or mammograms or any of those things because seriously, why do women need that shit anyway?

Who needs dying white men, flesh sagging from their gin blossoms, to tell us why we don't?

Forget "punch a Nazi in the face" day-- it's time to kick a senator in the wiener. Those assholes can't get enough of OUR reproductive rights--I think it's only fair.

So, what I'm trying to say is...

There's this sort of dance married people do sometimes.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear--I'll get the dishes."

"No, no-- you've been cooking dinner for the last month. I'll get them."

"But you've been busy with gaming and meetings and with helping Chicken with her broken car, I'll get it."

"No, no-- don't worry. I'll make it happen.  And I'll do the laundry too."

"No, no--I'll get the laundry. If you're going to get the dishes, I'll get the laundry."

"Not your fault the laundry is overflowing. Don't worry about it..."

And so on.

Are you ready to beat us both with a 2x4 yet?

So Mate, my beloved Mate, has been trying to update my website for two years.

And being Mate, he has big plans, and a great idea, and no time to do it. Literally no time. He already lives behind his computer during family time as it is, usually sending e-mails, whether to work or soccer, doesn't matter.

Now two years ago, (when we had money) I offered to find a designer to pay. That's when I got the logo et al (still one of the best things I've ever done) and his feelings were hurt. He could do it. I know he could.

Okay. I knew he could.

And yes, I've updated the website (Weebly, which apparently is some sort of sin of websites, we had no idea) since, thinking, "Oh, this thing I'm doing here--I will have him change it for the new one. And this thing I'm doing here? This should be done like this.  And I will have pages for each series, and I will organize the books by type instead of publisher, and..."

And this list sort of grew longer and longer and longer, until every time I looked at my website I wanted to cry.

Well, I went to my website today and one of my priorities was eliminating the Torquere page (because none of the links worked anymore anyway) and I accidentally deleted the DSP page and I got an idea for how to make that whole thing more efficient anyway and...

So what I'm trying to say is, I updated my website with the help of a reader who was more than sympathetic to my plight. (I owe her something wonderful and writerly... think think think...)

But it's not completely done.

I'll do more tomorrow.

And hopefully more the next day.

Until it's as good as I can get it.

Until Mate can finish the WordPress website that he's been wanting to see for so long.

And also, in case you haven't uploaded it, Scorched Haven is available in .pdf if you want to GO CHECK IT OUT. 

And *whew*

Now on to more Familiar Angel.    

MacBeth and Friday

Today, in light of the thing that was inflicted on our nation on Friday, a lot of people were quoting George Orwell's 1984. Now, 1984 is a favorite of mine--I used to teach a unit on that and Brave New World that I really really loved. But although those books deal with fascism and massive social oppression, they're not the only ones that deal with a tyrant.

One of my favorite things to teach--one of the things I used to be able to recite pages of (not accurately, but the gist was pretty much there) was Macbeth. 

And so I offer you some quotes from MacBeth, just in case you find yourself, between now and the future impeachment, sputtering for words. Shakespeare has a couple of old standbys that just might come in handy:

Upon not cheating to get you what you want:

"If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me." (Act I, Scene III)

Upon not trusting appearances or what authority says or not thinking everything that glitters is a gilt-gold toilet:
"Fair is foul, and foul is fair." (Act I, Scene I)

Upon being manipulated by someone more ruthless than you are:

"Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness." (Act I, Scene V)

Upon fucking people over while smiling in their faces:

"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't." (Act I, Scene V)

Upon throwing a tantrum when you're trying to find your balls:

"I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none." (Act I, Scene VII)

Upon committing cold blooded murder on a sleeping friend--or making a cowardly act sound like a warrior's sacrifice:

"Screw your courage to the sticking-place." (Act I, Scene VII)

Upon wanting power for power's sake and not because you could do a better job:

"I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, and falls on the other." (Act I, Scene VII)

Upon being afraid of all the people around you because you know they aren't all friendly:
"There's daggers in men's smiles." (Act II, Scene III)

Upon knowing Cheetoh McShitGibbon is coming to your town:
"By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes." (Act IV, Scene I)

Upon obsessing over something small and insignificant that's a reflection of your own soiled soul--or the place where the bad Tweets come from:
"Out, damned spot! out, I say!" (Act V, Scene I).

Upon watching someone who butchers his own language try to give a speech to lead millions of people who are smarter than he is:
"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." (Act V, Scene V)

Upon mistaking power for empty privilege:

"I bear a charmed life." (Act V, Scene VIII)

Upon not having the temperament to rule justly:

The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth. (Act IV, Scene III)


Upon making a subtle threat:

Fail not our feast (Act II, Scene II)


Upon being tortured by your own guilt because you did something horrible for no reason at all:

But wherefore could not I pronounce “Amen”?
I had most need of blessing, and “Amen”
Stuck in my throat. (Act II, Scene II)


Upon being irrationally afraid of things that have been made to look bad in order to entertain us:

'Tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. (Act II, Scene II)


Upon the belief that the world and the elements themselves rebel when the people in charge have reversed the roles of good and evil. Today, we call that climate change:

Ha, good father,
Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man’s act,
Threatens his bloody stage. (Act II, Scene IV)


Upon convincing the gullible and the desperate that all of their misfortune stems from someone who not only wouldn't hurt them, but would probably work for their betterment:

Have you considered of my speeches? Know
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune, which you thought had been
Our innocent self. This I made good to you
In our last conference, passed in probation with you,
How you were borne in hand, how crossed, the instruments,
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
To half a soul and to a notion crazed
Say, “Thus did Banquo.” (Act 3, Scene 1)


Upon not being able to get people to do what you want because you don't have any leadership abilities whatsoever:

He cannot buckle his distempered cause
Within the belt of rule. (Act 5, Scene 2)


Upon commanding people who hate you, and being too small a person for the great office you've usurped:

Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love. Now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant’s robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

Taxi!

Today's schedule:

Wake up at 7:30

Take Squish to school at 8:30

Get home at 9:10 (with coffee and sausage burrito of course)

Walk dogs, use the bathroom, leave at 9:50

Get to  Chicken's at 10:15

Get Chicken to work a little bit late at 10:50 because we stopped to get her food, and she'd had no breakfast. She was understanding.

Get home at 11:35.

Debate fiercely with self whether to go to aqua or not, conveniently forgetting that ZoomBoy should be out of school at 1:30. Or was it 2:30? It was definitely 1--wait, 2:30.

Watch it start to rain and give up on aqua. Besides, it was 1:30.

Forget it was 1:30, forget that it's Thursday, forget Squish is out at 2:04, and go down for a nap.

Get a call at 2:25 as you're out the door to get ZoomBoy. It's Squish, saying, "You forgot it's Thursday, didn't you?"

Go HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CRAPBALLS in your head while you rush to pick up ZoomBoy, who, by the way, got out at 2:30 and is unperturbed.

Pick Squish up EXTRA late because we got ZoomBoy first.

Squish picks the place to get snack, because, well, ZoomBoy first.

Get home at 3:30 to a phone call from the dealership--come get car!

Leave house a little early, and realize HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CRAPBALLS I NEED TO GET GAS.

Have exactly enough time to get gas, drop off the rental and walk next door to get the old car with the brand new ass before everything closes.

Get home and pretend nobody's hungry for dinner while you try to get just a little bit of work, please, just half an hour of work in, for the love of holy let me do my job.

Start dinner at 7.

Eat dinner at 8, when Mate gets home after dropping Chicken off at her apartment, with a complete schedule for how she doesn't need a ride to work again tomorrow because her car is getting worked on.

Take phone call at 9 that you've wanted to take for quite a while.

See text while on phone that indicates somebody has a doctor's appointment tomorrow. You have no idea who.

Hug kids off to bed while on the phone.

Get off phone, spend five minutes with husband before he goes to bed, and ten minutes on phone figuring out that you need to take ZoomBoy to the doctor's tomorrow before he goes to school.

Think-- just THINK you've got the schedule down until Mate reminds you that Squish has choir, ZoomBoy DOESN'T have club, and Chicken will need a ride home from the Car Czar.

Sit down to do some frickin' work.

Look at clock and see that it's blog time.

Cry.

Tomorrow, a horrible, monstrous abomination of a human being is going to be sworn in to rule (not govern, rule, like we're serfs) our country.

I personally will be too fucking busy living a life of community and family to give a ripe shit, or to read anything relevant to this farce that I can't use the democratic process to fight.

And I'm going to remember that the things he says aren't real unless he can legislate them. And if he tries to legislate him, he can be fought. And that community and family are bigger and more important than this aging flea-shit business failure on any given day.

I have more worth as a human taxi than this guy has on his biggest day. Whatever you are doing--whoever you are loving, whatever cause you are fighting for, whoever you are doing good for, whatever ideal or hope you are embracing--remember that you do too.

Yarn Ends

Okay-- two things today, one old, one new:

New:

ZoomBoy has taken to calling the dogs "assles", thinking that I won't notice he's really just copying ME when I call them assholes. I let him get away with it because A. Middle School, B. Mom swears all the time, what did I expect, and C. They dogs ARE assholes.

Anyway--

Squish today said, "Wait! Why does he get to say traffic words?"

Me: He doesn't really.

Squish: Do I get to call them assles?

Me: No! Neither of you should!

ZoomBoy: Why not?

Me: Because one day you're going to be talking about your pets in class and you're going to say "We've got three cats, two fish, and two assholes!" and then I"m going to get called to the principal's office!

They both seemed to think this was good reasoning and we dropped the subject.

Of course my real reason was that Mate isn't happy when the kids learn to swear--even though he's the second worst offender in the house.

So that was new.

Now old.

I'm trying to finish fingerless mitts and a couple of hats as swag. It's hard fitting the time in, and I had a flashback to when I used to knit baby blankets in three days and four sweaters a year.

And then I remembered the following conversation between me and a friend of mine.

We were "adopting" bears for Chicken's birthday-- a Build-a-Bear workshop. And in  your "adoption" papers, you have to put a few hobbies or words that described you.

"Oh, easy!" my friend said. "You're a yarner."

"That's it? I put writer--see?"  (I had just finished Vulnerable-- I was so proud.)

"Well, yeah-- but you leave little scraps of yarn everywhere you go.     So, you know, more knitter than writer."

And I realized I had to make a choice, schedule time, break away from my beloved knitting and write instead.

And it was a bigger sacrifice than it might seem.

I mean, I really love knitting.

But I stand by that choice back then. Writing is who I am.

Although I still do leave the occasional yarn end to mark where I've been. Think of it as fiber of love ;-)

Itsa Itsa Itsa... Dodge Caravan!

Okay-- the days have been quiet which doesn't give me much blog-fodder, but I have a few things today.

The first is I took the Odyssey in to get the back quarter repaired today--and realized I'd forgotten to reserve a rental car. I went to the rental car place--right next door to the repair shop--and resigned myself to a long wait for Mate. Hell, I couldn't even get him on the phone.

Then the girl--who looked disconcertingly like Buffy the Vampire Slayer--and I say that with all love, because Sarah Michelle Gellar is stunningly pretty and I adored Buffy--saw me sitting in the corner, looking across the street at McDonalds and wondering if maybe I should just wait there because at least there was coffee, and said, "Wait--did you turn in a minivan?"

"Yes..."

"So you'd want a minivan in return?"

"Sure!"

"I can get you one of those. Just wait."

Took her ten minutes.

And she didn't have to do it. I was the moron who hadn't reserved a car. I took to Twitter and @Enterprise and sent out something making sure she got an attagirl. And they said she would.  I mean, it was just so kind-- and she didn't have to. I hope she got a gift certificate somewhere awesome--I really do.

And the car was a newer Dodge Caravan-- which is the same make/model of the one that died--literally, gave it's last gasp into a parking spot--two years ago. BTW? This one looks totally different than that one. It's like a whole new car.

The kids were very puzzled--and very excited--with the new-to-us vehicle. The dogs were highly suspicious. Apparently all bad things start with a Dodge Caravan. I'm thinking Johnnie and Geoffie might still have memories of the old one.

And after that?

Well, Quickening Part 1 got it's second to last edit, and THAT'S exciting!

Oh! And I'm making KPoP mitts for swag for Coastal Magic-- can you tell?

Well... maybe if the dogs weren't in the way...

I'm pretty embarrassed about the fingerless mitts as a swag option btw. I really don't see how anybody would want them--I'm bringing books for backup.

<3 p="">

Coastal Magic

So...

I'm going to be at Coastal Magic in Daytona Beach, Florida, in a couple of weeks, and I'm excited. I'm going down a few days early, spending time with a friend who both writes and knits, and we're going to attend a class given by Franklin Habit.

Be still my heart!

I can't even tell you how much I'm looking forward to this.

And at the same time...

Guilt.

Who will tell he kids to feed the cats? Who will walk the dogs? Who will keep Mate from lunging off the bed when he has a nightmare?

And as I contemplate the guilt, I realize it's been a long time since I've gone anywhere without my family.  Wow. September? Is that when Yaoi-Con was?

I've planned a year of moderate travel-- Coastal Magic, DSP Weekend in Orlando in March, Romantic Times in Atlanta, and possibly RWA in Florida, and it's occurred to me that I miss my family during these moments.

Parenthood and career is such a perilous balance, isn't it? I think, in the last two years I've made several unconscious decisions to pick family over career. Interesting that--how sometimes it just happens, whether you will it or not.

That doesn't mean the decisions are easy to live with-- I kick myself daily for not updating my website, not writing more letters to shop out Heaven, not connecting more with the publishing world.

But I think what it comes down to, is that in all the world the things I'd most like to do, are spend time with my family and write.

So that's what I do.

And it's important to remember that I'm the one who set this priority, because if things on the career front don't pan out the way I'd hoped, I'm the one who set the priority. 

Yeah, it sucks being a grownup sometimes.

Anyway--I'm rambling. It's 1:25 a.m, and mostly what I've done today is edit and sleep, with time out to walk the dogs and play Ultimate Werewolf with the kids. (We've been spending about 20 minutes a night doing this--the game comes with an app, and expansion packs, and generally, high hilarity.)  On the one hand, I've worked an eight hour day.

On the other, I've dozed in front of the television for an hour while Mate watched Bob's Burgers.

I think generally, I can't complain. I mean, I can--I've had setbacks, even one today that sort of broke my heart even though nothing really bad happened, I just had to adjust how I was thinking about a story. It will still be published--just not how I thought.

But that too, is a choice.

And not too bad of one, really.

So yeah-- I guess when you're the ultimate grownup, those choices are all about balance. Today wasn't a bad day on the beam.