Things around here have been taking a very marked swing for the better. Bunny and I decided to stop driving ourselves crazy and make some decisions that are right to no one but us and our immediate family (and gosh darn but I'm a little overwhelmed with how supportive they were). We've been inundated by so much sorrow and so many sad things and just so many changes and upheavals in general this year that we decided it was time to drown things out in joy.
Just a day or two of pure unadulterated happiness with no one but each other. I've got to tell you, it worked.
Doing the big happy has sort of rebalanced my mind, a little bit. I feel like the universe is more as it should be and having the happies to offset all the hard has really helped spin my brian and my heart around into a more peaceful place.
In everyday conversation I can even mention the big sad stuff in a casual, matter of fact way without needing to have a nervous breakdown. Which maybe, just maybe, means I'm about ready to talk about it here. (Now I just need to figure out what to say.) So I'd expect some announcements to pop up here soon, both pulling back the curtain on the big upsetting thing I've been worked up about and confirming what you may already suspect about the big happy.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
review: the lost gate
I'm a pretty hard core science fiction and fantasy fan. It's my favourite genre to read and to watch, and I find it compelling to explore new worlds where the rules are so different from ours. (This, of course, all made sense when half of my first year philosophy readings and problems sounded like science fiction - I like metaphysics and value theory and these genres are very complimentary to that.) So why of why did it take Bunny to introduce me to Orson Scott Card?
I'd heard about him when I was younger and a friend whose taste in literature I didn't share described him as being very "out there". I should have realized then that I had all the recommendation I needed. On my first vacation with Bunny, a camping trip six months in during which he later told me was when he'd first realized he wanted to marry me (which was news to me, as I'd spent half the trip a cold, damp, whiny mess and he'd thrown a bit of a snit fit after the weather just wouldn't let up) I raided his bookcase for some reading material and he very highly recommended Ender's Game as well as the first three sequels. I devoured those books. Over the years I've picked up a handful of Card's standalone science fiction novels.
When I found The Lost Gate at the bookstore I was more than intrigued. The back cover talked about mages ... Card didn't write fantasy, did he? I was a little apprehensive, but remembered how much I'd loved the world building and the plotline in Ender's Game and decided to give it a whirl. I'm glad I did.
In the afterword, Card says he feels that the magic system he'd built for this world was his best magic scheme, ever. While I haven't read any other fantasy works of his I have to say he's probably right. Because this is one of the best magic systems and some of the best worlds I've ever read.
He manages to somehow incorporate myths and legends, magic, two different worlds and a group of mages who are the descendents of gods (and may have the potential to be gods again) in a completely seamless manner. His main characters are developed and nuanced. The plot moves so well I stayed up reading one night until I couldn't see straight.
I don't want to say to much about the plot itself because really, I think you should all go read it and figure it out for yourselves. My only complaint was that it was over too soon - I wanted to hear how the story progressed. (It sounds like there are some sequels planned. Good thing!)
I'd heard about him when I was younger and a friend whose taste in literature I didn't share described him as being very "out there". I should have realized then that I had all the recommendation I needed. On my first vacation with Bunny, a camping trip six months in during which he later told me was when he'd first realized he wanted to marry me (which was news to me, as I'd spent half the trip a cold, damp, whiny mess and he'd thrown a bit of a snit fit after the weather just wouldn't let up) I raided his bookcase for some reading material and he very highly recommended Ender's Game as well as the first three sequels. I devoured those books. Over the years I've picked up a handful of Card's standalone science fiction novels.
When I found The Lost Gate at the bookstore I was more than intrigued. The back cover talked about mages ... Card didn't write fantasy, did he? I was a little apprehensive, but remembered how much I'd loved the world building and the plotline in Ender's Game and decided to give it a whirl. I'm glad I did.
In the afterword, Card says he feels that the magic system he'd built for this world was his best magic scheme, ever. While I haven't read any other fantasy works of his I have to say he's probably right. Because this is one of the best magic systems and some of the best worlds I've ever read.
He manages to somehow incorporate myths and legends, magic, two different worlds and a group of mages who are the descendents of gods (and may have the potential to be gods again) in a completely seamless manner. His main characters are developed and nuanced. The plot moves so well I stayed up reading one night until I couldn't see straight.
I don't want to say to much about the plot itself because really, I think you should all go read it and figure it out for yourselves. My only complaint was that it was over too soon - I wanted to hear how the story progressed. (It sounds like there are some sequels planned. Good thing!)
The other morning I cleaned up all my jewellery, dragged out my jewellery box and actually filled it. Well, to say I cleaned up all the jewellery isn't accurate as all the costume stuff is packed up in plastic baggies in the "bathroom box" out in my mother in law's garage, but I did deal with all of my "good" jewellery.
Which is a pretty strange mix. I'm not a fan of too much overstated jewellery and like to keep even my statement pieces somewhat simple. I don't own a whole lot of the stuff, simply because I don't wear too much. I'm starting to want to branch out into a little more everyday jewellery that's actually nice but still somewhat understated (which is a very fine line!) and it's got me taking stock of what I actually do own and love.
About two thirds of my "good" jewellery is handmade, by either me or my mom. Gemstone and semi-precious stones strung into patterns with all sorts of sparkly little crystals. Of the remainder, half are hand me downs and half are gifts. I've literally never bought good jewellery for myself. (I do someday plan on remedying this, but I need to figure out what I want before I do that.)
The box has three small drawers full of these pieces, as well as a small ring section that's almost entirely filled (where did I get so many fancy rings? I don't even wear rings other than my engagement ring and wedding band as a general rule) and two little doors that open to hang short chains and lockets on.
It's very nice to have everything stored nicely now, but I'm already thinking I need a new solution. I could throw a couple more brooches or pairs of earrings there, and I have room for another couple of chains to hang. But I couldn't possibly fit much more in than that. For someone who doesn't wear much in the way of jewellery it's a little bit surprising to me that I've almost run out of space in the jewellery case already. I already need a bigger storage solution, but that seems crazy.
How extensive is your jewellery collection? What sort of storage solution works best for you?
Which is a pretty strange mix. I'm not a fan of too much overstated jewellery and like to keep even my statement pieces somewhat simple. I don't own a whole lot of the stuff, simply because I don't wear too much. I'm starting to want to branch out into a little more everyday jewellery that's actually nice but still somewhat understated (which is a very fine line!) and it's got me taking stock of what I actually do own and love.
About two thirds of my "good" jewellery is handmade, by either me or my mom. Gemstone and semi-precious stones strung into patterns with all sorts of sparkly little crystals. Of the remainder, half are hand me downs and half are gifts. I've literally never bought good jewellery for myself. (I do someday plan on remedying this, but I need to figure out what I want before I do that.)
The box has three small drawers full of these pieces, as well as a small ring section that's almost entirely filled (where did I get so many fancy rings? I don't even wear rings other than my engagement ring and wedding band as a general rule) and two little doors that open to hang short chains and lockets on.
It's very nice to have everything stored nicely now, but I'm already thinking I need a new solution. I could throw a couple more brooches or pairs of earrings there, and I have room for another couple of chains to hang. But I couldn't possibly fit much more in than that. For someone who doesn't wear much in the way of jewellery it's a little bit surprising to me that I've almost run out of space in the jewellery case already. I already need a bigger storage solution, but that seems crazy.
How extensive is your jewellery collection? What sort of storage solution works best for you?
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
bending with the breeze
This year, with its one blow after another nature, may be the single most transformative year of my life. All that tragedy can't help but change a person, at least a little bit. It's not the sort of change and transformation that you can anticipate, like graduating from university or planning to get married or buy your first home. The situations just wake up and say "Hi, it's the 17th of the month, and life's about to change again".
Life changes don't let you plan, they just happen and take you along for the ride. It's a bit like running around in a giant hampster ball, trying desperately to keep up and never completely in control of your direction. The changes this year have been the sort of changes that you can't figure out a way to undo, the best you can do is adapt and learn to live within the new parameters of your life.
Adapt I have done. I've had to try to learn how to be my best self even in my worst circumstances. I've had to figure out a way to stand up with some grace and dignity when the world is falling apart around me. I've had to suck it up and pull myself together for job interviews and for work. I've had to look for silver linings, because even when life is one hard blow after another you can't let yourself be unhappy forever. You can't simply wallow in the misery; getting up in the morning, getting dressed and going through the motions isn't enough because there aren't enough days left in anyone's life and we have to live each one as best as we can.
Sometimes that means crawling back to bed to cry. More often than that, it means finding something in the day to look forward to, acknowledging and accepting the sorrow while refusing to let it define you.
I've surprised myself a little bit with how I've handled everything. Seeing myself somehow able to maintain some semblance of professionalism and competence at work in the last month while I was completely preoccupied by the train wreck that was July's suckage was a shock to me. I've always been very affected by the difficult moments in life and I haven't historically had an easy time containing that while at work. I've noticed some of my worst qualities taking on softer edges; curbing my temper when I want to lash out at anything and instead admitting "So, that thing that happened a few weeks back? It's making me feel like XYZ right now, and I really need for you to do a little WXY to help me out with this". Doing that instead of just directing my anger at Bunny for no apparent reason is a huge deal for me.
All this upheaval and sorrow has, somehow, led me to a sense of peace that didn't exist before. Truly encountering a terrible situation that I couldn't change, that nobody could change and recognizing that fighting was futile has given me some serenity. I can control myself, my actions and how I handle my emotions but I can't control too much else. This is a fundamental truth of life, but I hadn't really embraced it before. I don't think I had the experience necessary to embrace it. Maybe some of it is to do with the fact that I had never truly been affected by a death in my adult life, and maybe some of it is to do with the fact that the difficult situations I faced as a child where human ones, caused by human monsters and I felt like I should have had more control than I did. I never learned to respect the limits of my own influence.
I don't freak out as much as I used to. Crying because I lost some jewellery seems pretty ridiculous after the year I've had (unless the jewellery is really just the straw that broke the camel's back). I'm more willing to put myself out there, and I'm learning how to speak up for myself a little bit. I spend more time being sad than I used to, and I'm a little withdrawn lately but that's situational and I push myself to break out of the cage a little bit.
And that's just scratching the surface. It's affected how I relate to other people, both those in my life and strangers. It's affected how I relate to the universe and my relationship with the grand Whoever up there. It's changed a lot of things. The only thing that I'm sure of is that there's more change coming.
Life changes don't let you plan, they just happen and take you along for the ride. It's a bit like running around in a giant hampster ball, trying desperately to keep up and never completely in control of your direction. The changes this year have been the sort of changes that you can't figure out a way to undo, the best you can do is adapt and learn to live within the new parameters of your life.
Adapt I have done. I've had to try to learn how to be my best self even in my worst circumstances. I've had to figure out a way to stand up with some grace and dignity when the world is falling apart around me. I've had to suck it up and pull myself together for job interviews and for work. I've had to look for silver linings, because even when life is one hard blow after another you can't let yourself be unhappy forever. You can't simply wallow in the misery; getting up in the morning, getting dressed and going through the motions isn't enough because there aren't enough days left in anyone's life and we have to live each one as best as we can.
Sometimes that means crawling back to bed to cry. More often than that, it means finding something in the day to look forward to, acknowledging and accepting the sorrow while refusing to let it define you.
I've surprised myself a little bit with how I've handled everything. Seeing myself somehow able to maintain some semblance of professionalism and competence at work in the last month while I was completely preoccupied by the train wreck that was July's suckage was a shock to me. I've always been very affected by the difficult moments in life and I haven't historically had an easy time containing that while at work. I've noticed some of my worst qualities taking on softer edges; curbing my temper when I want to lash out at anything and instead admitting "So, that thing that happened a few weeks back? It's making me feel like XYZ right now, and I really need for you to do a little WXY to help me out with this". Doing that instead of just directing my anger at Bunny for no apparent reason is a huge deal for me.
All this upheaval and sorrow has, somehow, led me to a sense of peace that didn't exist before. Truly encountering a terrible situation that I couldn't change, that nobody could change and recognizing that fighting was futile has given me some serenity. I can control myself, my actions and how I handle my emotions but I can't control too much else. This is a fundamental truth of life, but I hadn't really embraced it before. I don't think I had the experience necessary to embrace it. Maybe some of it is to do with the fact that I had never truly been affected by a death in my adult life, and maybe some of it is to do with the fact that the difficult situations I faced as a child where human ones, caused by human monsters and I felt like I should have had more control than I did. I never learned to respect the limits of my own influence.
I don't freak out as much as I used to. Crying because I lost some jewellery seems pretty ridiculous after the year I've had (unless the jewellery is really just the straw that broke the camel's back). I'm more willing to put myself out there, and I'm learning how to speak up for myself a little bit. I spend more time being sad than I used to, and I'm a little withdrawn lately but that's situational and I push myself to break out of the cage a little bit.
And that's just scratching the surface. It's affected how I relate to other people, both those in my life and strangers. It's affected how I relate to the universe and my relationship with the grand Whoever up there. It's changed a lot of things. The only thing that I'm sure of is that there's more change coming.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Tuesday happies
Smile day! I'm in a good mood but I'm super busy. Here are a few of the awesome things going on in my life:
- new earrings from Bunny, because I love having things to wear that remind me of him
- those crazy blue boots
- shaking hands with Susur Lee when I was at his restaurant last week
- knowing that I like prosecco much better than champagne
- Orson Scott Card, because I'm always amazed by what an amazing writer is
- getting positive reviews at work
- friends being understanding, even when they're upset, when I tell them a big bit of super secret news
- travel mugs, because taking coffee in to work is a good thing
- my new wallet/clutch because it's classic and adorable and this amazing shade of powder blue
- the Coach Outlet in Cookstown, where I plan on scoping out some awesome new purses
- my new vase-like thing, beautiful, functional glass that might as well be art
- new bras that fit better in the band. Not falling out in a thing to be loved.
Monday, August 27, 2012
from the drafts: two of the cutest dogs in the world
*If you remember, last February my dog Cheyenne fell down the stairs, hurt herself terribly (the vet's best guess was a broken back) and we had to put her down. I originally wrote this the night before we put her down, and after I came home from letting her go I couldn't handle posting this.
This week I'm super busy with some crazy awesome plans and just don't have time to do as much writing as I'd like. I figured since apparently I'm not ready, willing or able to be too forthcoming about the emotional mess I've been navigating my way out of for the last month or so that I'd give you this piece.
An ode to Cheyenne, who taught me what unconditional love means, written when I was still holding on to hope that she'd be ok, for just a little while longer. (I've held on to a lot of lost hope this year.)
I happen to be very lucky in having two of the most amazing dogs in the world. The one I live with, Jethro (also: Pooperpants) is a gorgeous Brittany Spaniel who lives with Bunny and I. At some point, he's supposed to be a stud dog and he's also a total little snuggle monster. He's given us a scare once or twice with seizures, and we love him to death.
My other dog is Cheyenne, an Australian Shepherd we brought home, unplanned, from the pet store on my sixteenth birthday. My mom had long ago decided that if we ever got a dog, as she kept promising, we would call her Cheyenne. That was the name on the window, and my mom asked if I wanted to see her. The poor thing looked like a little rug. At four months old she was timid as a mouse, scared to make any move and desperate for love.
I couldn't leave the store without her, and my mom couldn't either. Home came the dog. When my brother got home to the quiet scruffy thing in the back yard that night his stunned reaction of what the hell just happened was hilarious. Oddly, he'd always wanted a dog and I'd always wanted a cat but we'd bonded with opposite animals. That dog loved me like nothing else, and I loved her back. She cuddled me through some of the roughest times in my life.
Tonight my mom called. Cheyenne has had a fall down the basement stairs and isn't doing so hot. Either she's hurt her leg or her hip, my mom's not sure which. She won't walk on her own. Then again, she's old and has had walking problems for awhile, so it's probably no big deal.
She's eating, though, and drinking. Which are all good things.
One of the lovely things about being off all the time, though, is that I can just hop a bus up north for the hell of it and go see her. So I'm doing that. I get a day cuddling with my first puppy love.
This week I'm super busy with some crazy awesome plans and just don't have time to do as much writing as I'd like. I figured since apparently I'm not ready, willing or able to be too forthcoming about the emotional mess I've been navigating my way out of for the last month or so that I'd give you this piece.
An ode to Cheyenne, who taught me what unconditional love means, written when I was still holding on to hope that she'd be ok, for just a little while longer. (I've held on to a lot of lost hope this year.)
I happen to be very lucky in having two of the most amazing dogs in the world. The one I live with, Jethro (also: Pooperpants) is a gorgeous Brittany Spaniel who lives with Bunny and I. At some point, he's supposed to be a stud dog and he's also a total little snuggle monster. He's given us a scare once or twice with seizures, and we love him to death.
My other dog is Cheyenne, an Australian Shepherd we brought home, unplanned, from the pet store on my sixteenth birthday. My mom had long ago decided that if we ever got a dog, as she kept promising, we would call her Cheyenne. That was the name on the window, and my mom asked if I wanted to see her. The poor thing looked like a little rug. At four months old she was timid as a mouse, scared to make any move and desperate for love.
I couldn't leave the store without her, and my mom couldn't either. Home came the dog. When my brother got home to the quiet scruffy thing in the back yard that night his stunned reaction of what the hell just happened was hilarious. Oddly, he'd always wanted a dog and I'd always wanted a cat but we'd bonded with opposite animals. That dog loved me like nothing else, and I loved her back. She cuddled me through some of the roughest times in my life.
Tonight my mom called. Cheyenne has had a fall down the basement stairs and isn't doing so hot. Either she's hurt her leg or her hip, my mom's not sure which. She won't walk on her own. Then again, she's old and has had walking problems for awhile, so it's probably no big deal.
She's eating, though, and drinking. Which are all good things.
One of the lovely things about being off all the time, though, is that I can just hop a bus up north for the hell of it and go see her. So I'm doing that. I get a day cuddling with my first puppy love.
Friday, August 24, 2012
yesterday
Yesterday festivities still require some recovery time. Plus today there is some more fun planned.
In the meantime, how cute are these shoes? Even my feet have a hangover.
In the meantime, how cute are these shoes? Even my feet have a hangover.
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