You may have noticed that we haven't updated in a while. In fact, on April 2nd I said to come back in two weeks. It's, uh, been a few more weeks than that, and we're not here.
Nor will we be, for the foreseeable future, I'm afraid.
You are witnessing the death of a blog. A much beloved, much belabored blog.
Each of us have loved the Archives in our own ways, and each and every one of you for reading it, but we all agree on one thing:
It's become a chore.
So, no more excuses. No more "we'll be back in ____" and then multiplying ____ by 10. The only thing worse than not blogging at all is blogging poorly.
Plus, we kind of hate the word "blog". Or at least, I do.
Anyway, my friends, while it pains me to say this, the Archives are about to become just that-- shadowy echoes of former selves and lives; a warehouse full of cobwebby thoughts. We may come back someday with a broom and sweep out the attic and dust off a shiny new post, or we may not. We all agree we don't want to make any promises. We don't want to disappoint you anymore.
But! We're still here! We still exist! We still want to hang out and chat! So come find us in our other spaces, where we clean regularly and post more sporadically-often.
You can find me (L.T. Host) at my other blog, updated almost never but a slow simmer in my mind always, with the intent to thrive again:
My Life is (in) a Zoo
Or on Twitter, as @LTHost .
And I hope you will, and actually talk to me because I'm horrible about starting conversations I always think I'm not cool enough for people so feel free to break the ice first I promise I won't bite. Phew.
Thanks for reading, and thanks for being you.
I'll try and get the rest of the Alliterators to post their preferred contact info here, too. But no promises. We're really bad at keeping those.
Good night, sweet blog. Good night.
Showing posts with label L.T. Host. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L.T. Host. Show all posts
Monday, May 21, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Big adventure in small places
Most people learn about the hero's journey in high school. It's the standard hero-driven story arc, usually involving a quest, a mentor, a fall/loss, a rise to power, and success, in some semblance of order.
But some days, just getting bananas from the store can seem like a quest--complete with villainous cashier, an evil witch in the produce section, and a perilous parking lot journey. It's how we handle these mundane adventures that defines and prepares us for the real ones. (Or not. I may just be saying that because it sounds important). This week is all about these tiny epic stories, the usual unusual. A hero's quest in a bottle.
My mundane adventure has to be my commute. Some days, getting home from work seems to span three centuries and several monarchies. I work about forty miles from my home, giving me a commute that can be anywhere from forty minutes to-- well, my record so far is about three hours.
Why?
Let's just say it's a well-known fact in San Diego that no one can drive in the rain.
The major freeway I take most of the way home has its issues. It's relatively well-managed for traffic volume, but add water falling from the sky and the whole thing seizes up. Mostly because there's little to no drainage on the darn thing.
The last time we had a big storm, I limped my way home around mid-afternoon, pretty much convinced I was going to die. People were in that scary speed range where you're going just fast enough to do some damage if you lose control, and the road was so slick and wet and there was so much wind that my car was getting blown all over. And then I reached a dip between valleys.
Essentially, a small lake had formed on the freeway.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm being a wimp here-- but here's the thing. I, too, am a San Diegan. I hardly ever have to drive in bad weather conditions, so I just plain don't know how to handle them. When I hit that giant puddle, I was all of a sudden blinded by the wall of water kicked up from my tires, and had the sensation that I was floating more than driving. It was pretty terrifying.
It didn't help that I had twenty of my new best friends surrounding me the whole time.
Now, I did make it through. But I'm scared of it happening again, despite the fact that it most assuredly will at some point. Ah well. Maybe I'll take an alternate route next time.
What do you do when the weather's bad?
But some days, just getting bananas from the store can seem like a quest--complete with villainous cashier, an evil witch in the produce section, and a perilous parking lot journey. It's how we handle these mundane adventures that defines and prepares us for the real ones. (Or not. I may just be saying that because it sounds important). This week is all about these tiny epic stories, the usual unusual. A hero's quest in a bottle.
My mundane adventure has to be my commute. Some days, getting home from work seems to span three centuries and several monarchies. I work about forty miles from my home, giving me a commute that can be anywhere from forty minutes to-- well, my record so far is about three hours.
Why?
Let's just say it's a well-known fact in San Diego that no one can drive in the rain.
The major freeway I take most of the way home has its issues. It's relatively well-managed for traffic volume, but add water falling from the sky and the whole thing seizes up. Mostly because there's little to no drainage on the darn thing.
The last time we had a big storm, I limped my way home around mid-afternoon, pretty much convinced I was going to die. People were in that scary speed range where you're going just fast enough to do some damage if you lose control, and the road was so slick and wet and there was so much wind that my car was getting blown all over. And then I reached a dip between valleys.
Essentially, a small lake had formed on the freeway.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm being a wimp here-- but here's the thing. I, too, am a San Diegan. I hardly ever have to drive in bad weather conditions, so I just plain don't know how to handle them. When I hit that giant puddle, I was all of a sudden blinded by the wall of water kicked up from my tires, and had the sensation that I was floating more than driving. It was pretty terrifying.
It didn't help that I had twenty of my new best friends surrounding me the whole time.
Now, I did make it through. But I'm scared of it happening again, despite the fact that it most assuredly will at some point. Ah well. Maybe I'll take an alternate route next time.
What do you do when the weather's bad?
Monday, March 19, 2012
If I should kick the bucket before I ...
Everyone has something they want to do before, uh, you know-- the great blue yonder.
Some even have entire lists of things! A veritable bucket list of sorts!
Mine? (This is going to be one of my shortest posts ever).
It's simply:
1.) Do everything.
What's on your bucket list?
Some even have entire lists of things! A veritable bucket list of sorts!
Mine? (This is going to be one of my shortest posts ever).
It's simply:
1.) Do everything.
What's on your bucket list?
Monday, March 12, 2012
Peach, Pear, Apple, Banana . . . Pineapple???
This week at the Archives is all about FRUIT!
What about fruit, you may be asking?
The answer is, I don't know!
Well, okay, *I* know what *I'll* be writing about. But my fellow Alliteratus? Well, it's up to them what they'll be writing about, about fruit. Maybe they'll tell you about a time they couldn't find fruit. Or a time fruit saved their life. Or their favorite fruit. Or what fruit means to them. Or what the scientific definition of a fruit is, and whether tomatoes and cucumbers should REALLY count.
Really, the possibilities are endless.
But what I want to talk to you about, about fruit, (wow that's even more awkward the second time), is the pineapple.
Bear with me, my friends.
It's just... okay. Look. Some things, I totally understand. I mean, just look at apples and peaches. They are shiny/ fuzzy, appealing/ attractive/ smell good. Or berries-- berries are smushy and stain your fingers all sorts of exciting colors. I can totally see early man walking up to a blackberry bush and testing that shizz out.
But a pineapple???
First of all, have you ever seen a pineapple plant? No? Well, conveniently, I happen to carry a picture of one around with me at all times here on the internet:
What about fruit, you may be asking?
The answer is, I don't know!
Well, okay, *I* know what *I'll* be writing about. But my fellow Alliteratus? Well, it's up to them what they'll be writing about, about fruit. Maybe they'll tell you about a time they couldn't find fruit. Or a time fruit saved their life. Or their favorite fruit. Or what fruit means to them. Or what the scientific definition of a fruit is, and whether tomatoes and cucumbers should REALLY count.
Really, the possibilities are endless.
But what I want to talk to you about, about fruit, (wow that's even more awkward the second time), is the pineapple.
Bear with me, my friends.
It's just... okay. Look. Some things, I totally understand. I mean, just look at apples and peaches. They are shiny/ fuzzy, appealing/ attractive/ smell good. Or berries-- berries are smushy and stain your fingers all sorts of exciting colors. I can totally see early man walking up to a blackberry bush and testing that shizz out.
But a pineapple???
First of all, have you ever seen a pineapple plant? No? Well, conveniently, I happen to carry a picture of one around with me at all times here on the internet:
Yeah. There you go.
What sort of maniac walked up to this spiky plant, took a look at the VERY spiky thing sitting on top, and said, "Hey, that looks tasty!"
(Strange fact... if you plant a whole pineapple [or even just cut off the top and plant it], it will grow! The top of the pineapple= the strange spiky plant seen here. It's pineapples all the way down).
Okay, so I'm glad they did it. If I had to pick a favorite fruit, pineapple's definitely up there. But still. It's weird.
Not to mention the effort you have to go through just to eat the darn things.
Don't even get me started on coconuts.
What's your favorite fruit?
Monday, March 5, 2012
Give me ______, or give me death!
We all have stuff we can't survive without. For some, it's coffee. For others, oxygen.
This week's theme asks us what we need to live. Perhaps we'll give you some tongue-in-cheek responses, perhaps serious ones. But either way, we want to know what, exactly, makes us tick.
For me, it's not something I can easily narrow down . In fact, mine's more of a laundry list than a thing. But here goes; the things I cannot survive without:
Animals: Quite literally, if there were no animals on this planet, I would be a very, very depressed person. 99% of my life revolves around animals in some form and the other 1% is only occupied by subconscious brain activity like breathing, and digestion.
My husband: The rock to my crazy scissors. He keeps me on an even keel and brings me back down to earth when my britches fill with air and threaten to carry me away, but he also always reaches out a hand when I need someone to hold onto.
Ibuprofen: Oh, man. If there is a wonder drug, it is ibuprofen. It cures most of my ills, to the point where I sometimes wonder if I have a placebo effect reaction to it. Of course, that's not counting the damage it's doing to my stomach, but I figure by the time that's actually an issue modern medicine will have a solution. I, uh, can quit any time.
Down time: I can't stress this one enough. I call them my "hermit days" and yes, I need a WHOLE DAY. I am not the "an hour here, an hour there" type of relaxation person. No, it's got to be a whole day of laziness or I am not counting it as restful. Unfortunately, I rarely have entire days to do nothing, so I am pretty much always "exhausted."
Quotation marks: What would I "do" without them? How would I "emphasize" "words" on the page if I couldn't "use quotes" around them?
My friends: You know who you are. I love you guys.
A sense of accomplishment: I am so goal driven it's not funny. No, seriously. Quit laughing. That's not nice.
Sugar: Yeah. I think this one explains itself. It might also explain why I get so many headaches that I have to take ibuprofen for. Ah well. I regret nothing.
Writing: I, uh, have a confession to make. In the first draft of this post, I FORGOT TO PUT THIS ONE IN THERE. I know, lame, right? Maybe because I was writing when I wrote it so I didn't think about it. (Yeah, that made total sense). Anyway, I really can't live without writing. Guess what I typically spend most of my hermit days doing??
So those are my things! What are yours??
This week's theme asks us what we need to live. Perhaps we'll give you some tongue-in-cheek responses, perhaps serious ones. But either way, we want to know what, exactly, makes us tick.
For me, it's not something I can easily narrow down . In fact, mine's more of a laundry list than a thing. But here goes; the things I cannot survive without:
Animals: Quite literally, if there were no animals on this planet, I would be a very, very depressed person. 99% of my life revolves around animals in some form and the other 1% is only occupied by subconscious brain activity like breathing, and digestion.
My husband: The rock to my crazy scissors. He keeps me on an even keel and brings me back down to earth when my britches fill with air and threaten to carry me away, but he also always reaches out a hand when I need someone to hold onto.
Ibuprofen: Oh, man. If there is a wonder drug, it is ibuprofen. It cures most of my ills, to the point where I sometimes wonder if I have a placebo effect reaction to it. Of course, that's not counting the damage it's doing to my stomach, but I figure by the time that's actually an issue modern medicine will have a solution. I, uh, can quit any time.
Down time: I can't stress this one enough. I call them my "hermit days" and yes, I need a WHOLE DAY. I am not the "an hour here, an hour there" type of relaxation person. No, it's got to be a whole day of laziness or I am not counting it as restful. Unfortunately, I rarely have entire days to do nothing, so I am pretty much always "exhausted."
Quotation marks: What would I "do" without them? How would I "emphasize" "words" on the page if I couldn't "use quotes" around them?
My friends: You know who you are. I love you guys.
A sense of accomplishment: I am so goal driven it's not funny. No, seriously. Quit laughing. That's not nice.
Sugar: Yeah. I think this one explains itself. It might also explain why I get so many headaches that I have to take ibuprofen for. Ah well. I regret nothing.
Writing: I, uh, have a confession to make. In the first draft of this post, I FORGOT TO PUT THIS ONE IN THERE. I know, lame, right? Maybe because I was writing when I wrote it so I didn't think about it. (Yeah, that made total sense). Anyway, I really can't live without writing. Guess what I typically spend most of my hermit days doing??
So those are my things! What are yours??
Monday, February 20, 2012
Humble and Hopeful
So, I have to let myself squee for a moment. Today, I totally got groomed by a wallaby. YOU GUYS. CUTEST THING EVER. (Aside from maybe wallabies themselves. Or sugar gliders. I'm quickly gaining a sugar glider infatuation as well).
Anyway. Moving on.
In the past few weeks, you've seen us dream big and talk about rituals. This week, we're going to show our humble sides and share a little household disaster with you. You know when you have those moments where you're not thinking and you pour bleach in the toilet bowl right after you pee? (What? That doesn't happen to everyone?) (Note: PSA: DON'T DO THIS-- the ammonia in urine reacts with the bleach to make mustard gas. Yikes). (By the way, that goes for any products with ammonia/ bleach in them).
Or maybe you're cooking and something in the oven catches fire. You open the door to assess the situation and it goes from a tiny kitchen fire to an inferno. (This totally happened to my husband before we even met).
We've all had these moments, and while we don't usually like sharing them with other people, it's time. We're going to air our dirty proverbial (or perhaps literal) laundry. We're going to share something stupid we've all done.
Mine is... pretty spectacular. See, in October of 2010, I got married. During this "wedding" business, I had fancy tables set up where people ate, drank, chatted, etc. And on those tables were cylinder vases-- tall, clear glass cylinders. Inside were river rock pebbles and a pillar candle. The candles were lit during the evening, and at the end of the night, all of the centerpieces came back home to me.
A few months later (yeah, don't judge) found me trying to clean out said cylinder vases. A lot of them had wax melted down into the pebbles and stuck to the glass, but they still popped out relatively easily.
Except for one. One little vase, where the wax and pebbles had managed to form a lump so stubborn that nothing was working to get it out. I tried leverage, hot water, and finally-- got the brilliant idea to try and warm the vase on the stove, thus melting the wax and freeing the whole mass.
I'm sure you can see where this is going.
I turned on the burner, inching the vase carefully closer and closer to the flame.
Thank goodness I had the smart idea to stay in the room. About five minutes later, instead of melting, the whole thing just... exploded. Luckily, the glass didn't go far, but it DID burst into flames. Huge, tall flames.
In a panic, I turned off the stove... but the flames had caught the candle wax and were still going strong. I was home alone, I didn't know anything about gas-powered stoves, and I was pretty sure I was going to die.
So I called 911. The polite operator told me to pack up my animals and, pardon my acronomic language, GTFO. I did, shaking and scared the whole time.
The firefighters got here fast. I'm sure they couldn't help but laugh at the terrified housewife who thought her stove was going to explode and kill her. The fire was a measly two inches high by the time they arrived, and went out while they were there. They were nice enough to clean the wax off my stove and refused the Girl Scout cookies I offered them in thanks.
Then I had the fun task of calling my husband and explaining how I'd almost burned the house down and had to call the fire department.
He still teases me about it, almost a year later. Also, I'm not allowed to try "projects" while I'm home alone. (My idea, not his).
Also also, I am now petrified of exploding glass, and can't turn on that burner without flinching.
I think my favorite part of the whole thing is how utterly dumb it was to even try in retrospect. Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly valid thing to do (obviously).
Have you ever had a "great" idea go horribly wrong?
Anyway. Moving on.
In the past few weeks, you've seen us dream big and talk about rituals. This week, we're going to show our humble sides and share a little household disaster with you. You know when you have those moments where you're not thinking and you pour bleach in the toilet bowl right after you pee? (What? That doesn't happen to everyone?) (Note: PSA: DON'T DO THIS-- the ammonia in urine reacts with the bleach to make mustard gas. Yikes). (By the way, that goes for any products with ammonia/ bleach in them).
Or maybe you're cooking and something in the oven catches fire. You open the door to assess the situation and it goes from a tiny kitchen fire to an inferno. (This totally happened to my husband before we even met).
We've all had these moments, and while we don't usually like sharing them with other people, it's time. We're going to air our dirty proverbial (or perhaps literal) laundry. We're going to share something stupid we've all done.
Mine is... pretty spectacular. See, in October of 2010, I got married. During this "wedding" business, I had fancy tables set up where people ate, drank, chatted, etc. And on those tables were cylinder vases-- tall, clear glass cylinders. Inside were river rock pebbles and a pillar candle. The candles were lit during the evening, and at the end of the night, all of the centerpieces came back home to me.
A few months later (yeah, don't judge) found me trying to clean out said cylinder vases. A lot of them had wax melted down into the pebbles and stuck to the glass, but they still popped out relatively easily.
Except for one. One little vase, where the wax and pebbles had managed to form a lump so stubborn that nothing was working to get it out. I tried leverage, hot water, and finally-- got the brilliant idea to try and warm the vase on the stove, thus melting the wax and freeing the whole mass.
I'm sure you can see where this is going.
I turned on the burner, inching the vase carefully closer and closer to the flame.
Thank goodness I had the smart idea to stay in the room. About five minutes later, instead of melting, the whole thing just... exploded. Luckily, the glass didn't go far, but it DID burst into flames. Huge, tall flames.
In a panic, I turned off the stove... but the flames had caught the candle wax and were still going strong. I was home alone, I didn't know anything about gas-powered stoves, and I was pretty sure I was going to die.
So I called 911. The polite operator told me to pack up my animals and, pardon my acronomic language, GTFO. I did, shaking and scared the whole time.
The firefighters got here fast. I'm sure they couldn't help but laugh at the terrified housewife who thought her stove was going to explode and kill her. The fire was a measly two inches high by the time they arrived, and went out while they were there. They were nice enough to clean the wax off my stove and refused the Girl Scout cookies I offered them in thanks.
Then I had the fun task of calling my husband and explaining how I'd almost burned the house down and had to call the fire department.
He still teases me about it, almost a year later. Also, I'm not allowed to try "projects" while I'm home alone. (My idea, not his).
Also also, I am now petrified of exploding glass, and can't turn on that burner without flinching.
I think my favorite part of the whole thing is how utterly dumb it was to even try in retrospect. Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly valid thing to do (obviously).
Have you ever had a "great" idea go horribly wrong?
Monday, February 13, 2012
The Rituals of Our Lives
Oh! Hi! I didn't see you there. I was too busy having deep thoughts about this week's theme: rituals.
Everyone has them. Some of us more so than others. Sometimes rituals are just cycles of life repeated in the same order, sometimes they're hallowed and sacred, and sometimes they're less than pleasant. But this week, the Alliteratus will tell you all about a ritual, or rituals, we find ourselves using in our lives.
Not every ritual has a structure. Some, like getting ready for work in the morning, seem to happen on auto-pilot. (I don't actually remember putting on my clothes this morning, but I appear to be wearing them, so that's good). Some rituals only crop up every now and then, and others aren't really rituals so much as superstition. But all of them have one thing in common-- rhythm. Rituals are the rhythm of our lives. We live our lives in cycles, circles, relationships-- and rituals. Go to sleep, wake up, get ready, leave, drive somewhere, do stuff, come home, make dinner, go to sleep.
The thing is, I find a lot of comfort in rituals. A large part of this has to do with a mental disorder I suffer from. I'll share more about that at some later date, but for right now it's enough for you to know that I have it. This disorder makes me uncomfortable with surprises, especially social ones. I have my daily ritual-- do the things that everyone else wants me to do, and then there's my free time. My free time is especially cherished, it's usually when I write, or decompress from the day by looking at pictures of cats online. If something comes along on a day when I'm really looking forward to my free time, I will do everything I can to avoid it. If a friend wants to make last minute plans, I usually can't make it. Give me a couple days' warning next time, I say.
I have a handful of very impulsive friends. They are the friends I see the least.
It's not that I don't want to spend time with them, or that I think my free time is more important than spending time with them. In fact, I often find myself sitting at home later thinking, "I should have gone. I miss ____, and it would have been fun to see them/ spend time with them."
A large part of it has to do with being physically (mentally) unable to change course on my day once I've decided what I'm going to do with it. That doesn't mean I'm inflexible; in fact, I'm far from it. And I'm not certain exactly where the threshold is. All I know is that once I've reached the point where doing ANYTHING except going home and relaxing sounds fun, I probably can't make myself do it.
I actually really hate this aspect of myself, because I know I've disappointed friends and family with it in the past. Sometimes, I do already have plans. Sometimes, they're self-imposed deadlines on a project I'm working on. Sometimes, I'm just done for the day and have already decided exactly when I'll go into shutdown mode. Either way, that ritual, of coming home and turning off-- usually after a full day of being ON-- is the one ritual I can't seem to break. At least not without warning a day or two in advance.
As for other rituals, well-- I could, quite literally, write a novel about them if I had to. It is, after all, the nature of my disease. Luckily, most of them are mental, which basically means I spend a lot of time stuck in my own head, and forgetting about real-world responsibilities. So if I've ever forgotten to email/ call/ text/ facebook/ tweet you back, I'm sorry. You deserve better. Thanks for being patient.
This was a tad more depressing and a bit more forthright than I'd planned, but you know what? I regret nothing. Sometimes, seeing a window into the head of someone you know helps you understand them a little bit more. Maybe you'll understand me a bit better after reading this.
Do you have any unbreakable rituals?
Everyone has them. Some of us more so than others. Sometimes rituals are just cycles of life repeated in the same order, sometimes they're hallowed and sacred, and sometimes they're less than pleasant. But this week, the Alliteratus will tell you all about a ritual, or rituals, we find ourselves using in our lives.
Not every ritual has a structure. Some, like getting ready for work in the morning, seem to happen on auto-pilot. (I don't actually remember putting on my clothes this morning, but I appear to be wearing them, so that's good). Some rituals only crop up every now and then, and others aren't really rituals so much as superstition. But all of them have one thing in common-- rhythm. Rituals are the rhythm of our lives. We live our lives in cycles, circles, relationships-- and rituals. Go to sleep, wake up, get ready, leave, drive somewhere, do stuff, come home, make dinner, go to sleep.
The thing is, I find a lot of comfort in rituals. A large part of this has to do with a mental disorder I suffer from. I'll share more about that at some later date, but for right now it's enough for you to know that I have it. This disorder makes me uncomfortable with surprises, especially social ones. I have my daily ritual-- do the things that everyone else wants me to do, and then there's my free time. My free time is especially cherished, it's usually when I write, or decompress from the day by looking at pictures of cats online. If something comes along on a day when I'm really looking forward to my free time, I will do everything I can to avoid it. If a friend wants to make last minute plans, I usually can't make it. Give me a couple days' warning next time, I say.
I have a handful of very impulsive friends. They are the friends I see the least.
It's not that I don't want to spend time with them, or that I think my free time is more important than spending time with them. In fact, I often find myself sitting at home later thinking, "I should have gone. I miss ____, and it would have been fun to see them/ spend time with them."
A large part of it has to do with being physically (mentally) unable to change course on my day once I've decided what I'm going to do with it. That doesn't mean I'm inflexible; in fact, I'm far from it. And I'm not certain exactly where the threshold is. All I know is that once I've reached the point where doing ANYTHING except going home and relaxing sounds fun, I probably can't make myself do it.
I actually really hate this aspect of myself, because I know I've disappointed friends and family with it in the past. Sometimes, I do already have plans. Sometimes, they're self-imposed deadlines on a project I'm working on. Sometimes, I'm just done for the day and have already decided exactly when I'll go into shutdown mode. Either way, that ritual, of coming home and turning off-- usually after a full day of being ON-- is the one ritual I can't seem to break. At least not without warning a day or two in advance.
As for other rituals, well-- I could, quite literally, write a novel about them if I had to. It is, after all, the nature of my disease. Luckily, most of them are mental, which basically means I spend a lot of time stuck in my own head, and forgetting about real-world responsibilities. So if I've ever forgotten to email/ call/ text/ facebook/ tweet you back, I'm sorry. You deserve better. Thanks for being patient.
This was a tad more depressing and a bit more forthright than I'd planned, but you know what? I regret nothing. Sometimes, seeing a window into the head of someone you know helps you understand them a little bit more. Maybe you'll understand me a bit better after reading this.
Do you have any unbreakable rituals?
Monday, February 6, 2012
This week's theme: A Dream Come True
Technology. It's a fickle mistress. This week we'll be writing about dreams come true; those small (or big) moments of success that make us want to kick up our heels and shout with joy. These are things we've achieved off of wish lists past, and they help remind us that those lists are possible. But, thanks to technology (and a massive migraine), I will be adding my dream come true to this post tomorrow morning. See you then!
*SEGUE*
Okay. So. Now that my internet is cooperating again, I can actually write this post. YAY!
I wanted to write about this because January was a rough month for me, yes, but it did have some good things happen, too. One of which was a dream come true. A tiny dream, but a dream, nonetheless.
A few years ago, my husband and I went to the zoo that I now work at and discovered how adorable wallabies are in person. I mean, I'd known they were cute. They're basically mini kangaroos. How can that not be adorable? (Note: I love any and all things miniature).
But in person, they were just so much more... special. We took lots of crappy pictures and forced everyone to look at them. Okay, maybe that was just me. But I couldn't get over how darn hilarious they were, and every time we went back we'd go see the wallabies first. I even included them in my sidebar description when we started the Archives.
After a couple years, I sort of settled down. I got hired at my current job and there were LOTS of cute animals there. Even mini ones. But wallabies always had a special place in my heart.
Where am I going with this?
Well, a couple months ago, I started volunteering at a local facility that has a wide range of exotic animals just to get some more diverse experience. They happen to have three wallabies there. I was excited, but trying not to get my hopes up. I had a lot of training to go through before I could get near them.
And then, last month-- it happened. During all the craptacular parts of January, two shining moments stuck out. I got to play with my wallabies. I gave them carrots, I petted that ADORABLE FUZZ BEHIND THEIR EARS OMG. I watched them hop around in the rain. I watched them do wallaby yoga. I just got to sit with them and soak up the fact that there were wallabies a few inches from me.
So yes, in January, a dream of mine did come true. It's not the first, and it won't be the last, but it's something to hold onto when life gets a little rough, right?
Have you had any dreams come true recently?
*SEGUE*
Okay. So. Now that my internet is cooperating again, I can actually write this post. YAY!
I wanted to write about this because January was a rough month for me, yes, but it did have some good things happen, too. One of which was a dream come true. A tiny dream, but a dream, nonetheless.
A few years ago, my husband and I went to the zoo that I now work at and discovered how adorable wallabies are in person. I mean, I'd known they were cute. They're basically mini kangaroos. How can that not be adorable? (Note: I love any and all things miniature).
But in person, they were just so much more... special. We took lots of crappy pictures and forced everyone to look at them. Okay, maybe that was just me. But I couldn't get over how darn hilarious they were, and every time we went back we'd go see the wallabies first. I even included them in my sidebar description when we started the Archives.
After a couple years, I sort of settled down. I got hired at my current job and there were LOTS of cute animals there. Even mini ones. But wallabies always had a special place in my heart.
Where am I going with this?
Well, a couple months ago, I started volunteering at a local facility that has a wide range of exotic animals just to get some more diverse experience. They happen to have three wallabies there. I was excited, but trying not to get my hopes up. I had a lot of training to go through before I could get near them.
And then, last month-- it happened. During all the craptacular parts of January, two shining moments stuck out. I got to play with my wallabies. I gave them carrots, I petted that ADORABLE FUZZ BEHIND THEIR EARS OMG. I watched them hop around in the rain. I watched them do wallaby yoga. I just got to sit with them and soak up the fact that there were wallabies a few inches from me.
So yes, in January, a dream of mine did come true. It's not the first, and it won't be the last, but it's something to hold onto when life gets a little rough, right?
Have you had any dreams come true recently?
Monday, January 30, 2012
Pretending January didn't exist, and introducing: Theme Weeks!
January was a rough month for me. In the last thirty days, I have:
-Had a muscle spasm in my back. I couldn't turn my head for three days.
-Had my cat drop a laptop on my toes. It landed on its edge, by the way.
-Went to the more-than-urgent-care-but-not-quite-ER for some scary chest pains (apparently, the cartilage between your rib cage and sternum can swell and make you think you're having a heart attack. Who knew?)
-Gotten an interview for my DREAM-dream job.
-Not gotten my DREAM-dream job.
-Gotten food poisoning. Twice.
-Entered a much-beloved but long-shelved manuscript in a contest.
-Gotten a reprieve for a close animal friend at work
-Lost my close animal friend after all
-And jumped back into the query pool, feet first, eyes closed.
Having shown you this, dear friends, I hope you can understand exactly why the Archives have been a little delayed thus far this year. I don't really have an opinion on the whole "The world is ending in 2012!!" thing, but I have to say that I certainly hope it's just getting all the challenging/ difficult bits out of the way right off the bat. With that optimism in mind, I want to introduce you to two new concepts we're going to try out here at the Archives, hoping to advance our way further into the blogging world and interact with you all in a real-time, digital megaspace reality that's sure to innovate our fluxative capacity. (Okay, so that was actually my attempt at shoving as much nonsense jargon as I could into that sentence).
Our two new concepts?
The first:
NO WRITING ABOUT WRITING. (Well, except maybe a little).
Frankly, we're all sick of writing about writing. And I know I'm sick of READING about writing. I'd rather be writing! So while our blog will stay topical, and while we are still writers, we hope to include a lot more of ourselves in our blog posts, and a lot less of . . . well, you know.
And the second:
INTRODUCING: THEME WEEKS!!
You guys, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's HARD coming up with ideas for blog posts. Some weeks, we just give up out of sheer lack of motivation. Others, the well simply runneth dry. So we're going to try something new and fantastic: giving ourselves a theme to write to. Each week will have a theme, and you will get five different points of view about the topic at hand. We've already got a bunch of ideas, but if there's something you want to hear our thoughts on, leave it in the comments of this post!
Now, having waded through all of THAT business, we can move onto, er, business. This week's theme?
A wishlist.
It's been a new year twice now since the last time we really, really posted, and I'd like to celebrate and hallow the start of two new years by sending some wishes out into the universe. I'm genuinely hoping for some good things to happen this year! Here's my wishlist:
-Get another interview for my dream-dream job. Don't suck at it. Get the job.
-Have some small (or large) writing success-- find an agent, write another story that I can't stop thinking about, get past the first round in that contest.
-Continue to grow as a better friend, wife, relative, blogger, writer, critter mom, and employee.
-Get my gorgeous loveable stubborn spooky horse down to the Big Arena-- and ride her there. Safely.
-Learn. Learn more. Learn everything. Find more to learn once I've learned everything.
-Spend quality time with wallabies at least twice a month. (I'm happy to report that my profound love of wallabies can at last be satisfied on a weekly basis! And guess what: they're WAY softer and fuzzier than they look!)
-And while we're at it, I'm just going to go ahead and ask the universe to help me out a little financially.
Now, universe, I don't want any of these to be Backhanded Wishes. No killing anyone or anything or ruining lives to make it happen, ya hear?
Do you have a wishlist for 2012?
Monday, December 19, 2011
A tiny question for a slow blogging week
It's the week before Christmas, which means that while I know I have a lot of loyal lurkers out there, I'm not expecting many people to be keeping up on their blogs. So I just have a simple question, one that's been nagging me for a while.
I hear people talk about "drafts" a lot. To me, a draft is a significantly different version of a manuscript. Perhaps a complete re-write. But when I hear people talk about drafts, I don't usually think they mean a complete tear-down and re-dress.
Or do they?
Tell me, dear readers: what do you consider to be a draft?
I hear people talk about "drafts" a lot. To me, a draft is a significantly different version of a manuscript. Perhaps a complete re-write. But when I hear people talk about drafts, I don't usually think they mean a complete tear-down and re-dress.
Or do they?
Tell me, dear readers: what do you consider to be a draft?
Monday, December 12, 2011
If These Walls Could Talk, They Might Only Scream (With Joy?)
As I write this, I'm sitting in my newly-Christmas'ed-out house, sipping a mug of hot chocolate and curling up under every blanket we own because it's San Diego, it's not supposed to get this cold, darnit. I'm also typing up a blog post. Uh, well I guess that last part was probably pretty obvious.
Yesterday, I got to play keeper to some lowland nyala, which are these creatures.Then I got to help one of our keepers clear another exhibit which held some scary gigantic birds (which I totally love, by the way). Then I got to play with our rats, and played trainer with one of our trainers.
Today, I go to my new volunteer place, where I'll get to play with anything from hedgehogs to porcupines to wallabies to macaws to marmosets to foxes to rabbits to--
Sorry. I got carried away. I think you get the idea.Then I'll get to hang out with some cheetahs (though I won't be playing any games with them... haha... cheetah... get it?)
I get to work with a lot of animals.
This is quite literally a dream come true.
Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing a forever dream-- you know, the kind you can't wake up from. The kind that never ends. The kind that just keeps going and going.
Lately, I've been feeling kind of frustrated because things aren't happening fast enough for me. I had always thought that by this stage in my life, I'd be well established in a solid career. It didn't seem like such a big deal when I was 25. But now, for some reason, it feels like I'm approaching doomsday. (Yes, I'm an overachiever. And dramatic).
But today, I realized--really, really realized, not just thought it-- that I have it pretty darn good where I am. And while I'm not giving up on my lofty goals, I should be more okay being where I am until things happen. Especially because, while I hate to think it, there's always the chance that they won't happen. And even more especially because, where I am is pretty awesome!
We'll see how long my new-found pragmatism lasts. Here's hoping it's a while.
Tell me: a crazy dream you have, or a pragmatic one!
Yesterday, I got to play keeper to some lowland nyala, which are these creatures.Then I got to help one of our keepers clear another exhibit which held some scary gigantic birds (which I totally love, by the way). Then I got to play with our rats, and played trainer with one of our trainers.
Today, I go to my new volunteer place, where I'll get to play with anything from hedgehogs to porcupines to wallabies to macaws to marmosets to foxes to rabbits to--
Sorry. I got carried away. I think you get the idea.Then I'll get to hang out with some cheetahs (though I won't be playing any games with them... haha... cheetah... get it?)
I get to work with a lot of animals.
This is quite literally a dream come true.
Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing a forever dream-- you know, the kind you can't wake up from. The kind that never ends. The kind that just keeps going and going.
Lately, I've been feeling kind of frustrated because things aren't happening fast enough for me. I had always thought that by this stage in my life, I'd be well established in a solid career. It didn't seem like such a big deal when I was 25. But now, for some reason, it feels like I'm approaching doomsday. (Yes, I'm an overachiever. And dramatic).
But today, I realized--really, really realized, not just thought it-- that I have it pretty darn good where I am. And while I'm not giving up on my lofty goals, I should be more okay being where I am until things happen. Especially because, while I hate to think it, there's always the chance that they won't happen. And even more especially because, where I am is pretty awesome!
We'll see how long my new-found pragmatism lasts. Here's hoping it's a while.
Tell me: a crazy dream you have, or a pragmatic one!
Monday, November 28, 2011
It's Cyber Monday, which means you should all be online, right?
Oh, you're here. Good. I have a question for you.
I've been struggling with this blogging thing lately. And I'm going to be honest with you-- my attention has been seeping elsewhere. Twitter, mostly, because I can read it a lot faster than I can read blog posts... but I think part of the reason is that I just feel disconnected. I don't know what you want to read anymore, if you even read blogs... I mean, some people are following us, obviously, but I don't know how many of them actually bother with reading us.
So help me out! What are your favorite elements of the blogs you DO read? Do you like contests? Reviews? Writerly advice? Humor? Nothing writing related at all?
Help me re-connect, friends!
I've been struggling with this blogging thing lately. And I'm going to be honest with you-- my attention has been seeping elsewhere. Twitter, mostly, because I can read it a lot faster than I can read blog posts... but I think part of the reason is that I just feel disconnected. I don't know what you want to read anymore, if you even read blogs... I mean, some people are following us, obviously, but I don't know how many of them actually bother with reading us.
So help me out! What are your favorite elements of the blogs you DO read? Do you like contests? Reviews? Writerly advice? Humor? Nothing writing related at all?
Help me re-connect, friends!
Monday, November 7, 2011
In honor of NaNoWriMo, how to write like lightning
Those of you who know me well know that I am known for writing, well, I guess you could say . . . quickly? I hear a lot of lamenting when people find this out about me. "Why can't I write that fast?"
Well, firstly, don't despair, my more-normally-paced writer-friends. Your way ensures far fewer revisions, I'm certain. Your way also probably allows you to have a normal life among the chaos of the ever-present story. Mine doesn't (sort of).
There are pros and cons to every writing style, but I thought that in honor of NaNoWriMo I'd share a few tips on how to write like me-- that is, so ridiculously fast you're embarrassed to share exactly how fast. Because I am embarrassed. I always feel that when people see how fast I wrote something they'll just judge what I wrote as utter crap-- and with some reason.
But, without further ado, although some sarcasm, a bit of sincerity, and a touch of aplomb, here's how to write with lightning speed:
1.) Let go of everything but the book.
Okay, so I'm starting with a doozie. Basically, the number one thing that helps me write so fast is not something I can really pass on to anyone. But please promise me you'll keep reading, because the rest of the tips WILL help you write fastER, even if you don't wind up writing quite like me.
The biggest reason I write so fast is because I get completely obsessed with my story. I think about it when I'm falling asleep. I think about it when I wake up. I think about it in the shower, on my reeeeeaaaaaallllly long drive to and from work, when I'm bored in class, and even when there's a cheetah staring me in the face. I think about it in asides when I'm talking to my husband. "Speaking of timing belts, I bet a belt would be a good plot device in this scene."
I carry a notebook with me wherever I go to write down little notes and thoughts that come to me during the day. I get a new notebook every time I start a new project, so each one has its very own place. This lets me get as messy with my notes as I want because no matter which page I scrawl them on or how legible they are, they all go with the same project.
And I write and write and write in every. free. moment. I have, often much to the annoyance of my husband, friends, mother, in-laws, and animals.
This obsession is the number one thing that helps me write so quickly. I wish I could pass it off to you because believe me, sometimes I don't want it. But there are some things you can do to help yourself.
And now for a completely mechanically-sound tip that hopefully doesn't make me sound like a vain jackass:
2.) Learn to type faster.
Seriously. I'm not judging you on your typing skills, but increasing the speed that you can get the words out of your head and onto (virtual) paper will make a huge difference. Find a free online typing game and play it to improve your words per minute, and you'll see an improvement in how fast you write, too. I have a bit of an innate advantage here because I play the piano, and have since a young age, which I think has helped my typing immensely. But typing games? Whole 'nother level. Even if you already type pretty fast, it can never hurt to learn to do something faster, right?
3.) Know where you're going, even if you only know the next step.
So there's a whole extra blog post out of this one, but I will say that I've recently been converted to outlining. (I know, I know... GROAN). I'm not saying YOU need to outline, but-- I'll share a secret with you. I write slowly sometimes, too. I call these my writer's block phases, where I may not touch my WIPs for days, weeks, or even months. And it's always a plot problem that stops me. If I don't know where I'm going next, I can't write. Sometimes it's enough to let the story just capture me and sweep me away, but with major plot points, it's better to know how the dots connect at least a few steps ahead of where you are.
Once you know where you're going, all you have to do is write yourself there.
And now to completely contradict myself (but it will make sense, I swear):
4.) Let the story sweep you away.
No matter what you're writing, write it because you want to. Because it speaks to you. Because something there makes you feel all tingly and giddy inside when you think about it, because your sweet old neighbor asked you to, because you know you have the words to shape and mold and twist into something beautiful about beautiful things. This is the closest I can get to passing my obsession on to you. Let the story, whether you're excited about it or not, speak to you and pull you in. Something there is just for you-- something needs YOU to tell it. So tell it.
The second novel I wrote was a story that came to me in a very weird way, during a very weird time. When the idea first hit me, I thought, "Oh, that would make a great book. Someone should write that." But I didn't think I was "qualified" to write the story. I thought people would think I was crazy, writing that story.
Except no one else was going to write it. So I did. And I am so glad I did, because writing that first terrifying story that wouldn't leave me alone (my first novel had been very safe), opened me up to a whole world of possibility.
5.) And finally, let go of perfection.
You know what? I'm going to go out on a limb here and act like I am someone that anyone listens to. And I give you, yes-- YOU-- permission to let go of perfection. Use adverbs. Mix tenses. Forget you're in first/ second/ third person and mix them all up. Stick in a prologue. Heck, have three prologues. Start every sentence with a character's name. Forget dialogue tags. Use the same word six times in a paragraph-- or a sentence.
In other words, throw all the rules we're all so used to following out the window and just WRITE for once. Let the story pour out of you, messy and glorious. You know why?
You can always fix that stuff later. (Isn't that what December is for?) (Somewhere, four hundred literary agents all just reached for the scotch).
Let it out, my friends. In public, if you must. Let it all come out.
*I am not responsible for any arrests and/ or criminal records that may result from this blog post.
**I am also not responsible for any carpal tunnel. Ow my wrists hurt.
Got questions? Ask and I'll answer in the comments.
Well, firstly, don't despair, my more-normally-paced writer-friends. Your way ensures far fewer revisions, I'm certain. Your way also probably allows you to have a normal life among the chaos of the ever-present story. Mine doesn't (sort of).
There are pros and cons to every writing style, but I thought that in honor of NaNoWriMo I'd share a few tips on how to write like me-- that is, so ridiculously fast you're embarrassed to share exactly how fast. Because I am embarrassed. I always feel that when people see how fast I wrote something they'll just judge what I wrote as utter crap-- and with some reason.
But, without further ado, although some sarcasm, a bit of sincerity, and a touch of aplomb, here's how to write with lightning speed:
1.) Let go of everything but the book.
Okay, so I'm starting with a doozie. Basically, the number one thing that helps me write so fast is not something I can really pass on to anyone. But please promise me you'll keep reading, because the rest of the tips WILL help you write fastER, even if you don't wind up writing quite like me.
The biggest reason I write so fast is because I get completely obsessed with my story. I think about it when I'm falling asleep. I think about it when I wake up. I think about it in the shower, on my reeeeeaaaaaallllly long drive to and from work, when I'm bored in class, and even when there's a cheetah staring me in the face. I think about it in asides when I'm talking to my husband. "Speaking of timing belts, I bet a belt would be a good plot device in this scene."
I carry a notebook with me wherever I go to write down little notes and thoughts that come to me during the day. I get a new notebook every time I start a new project, so each one has its very own place. This lets me get as messy with my notes as I want because no matter which page I scrawl them on or how legible they are, they all go with the same project.
And I write and write and write in every. free. moment. I have, often much to the annoyance of my husband, friends, mother, in-laws, and animals.
This obsession is the number one thing that helps me write so quickly. I wish I could pass it off to you because believe me, sometimes I don't want it. But there are some things you can do to help yourself.
And now for a completely mechanically-sound tip that hopefully doesn't make me sound like a vain jackass:
2.) Learn to type faster.
Seriously. I'm not judging you on your typing skills, but increasing the speed that you can get the words out of your head and onto (virtual) paper will make a huge difference. Find a free online typing game and play it to improve your words per minute, and you'll see an improvement in how fast you write, too. I have a bit of an innate advantage here because I play the piano, and have since a young age, which I think has helped my typing immensely. But typing games? Whole 'nother level. Even if you already type pretty fast, it can never hurt to learn to do something faster, right?
3.) Know where you're going, even if you only know the next step.
So there's a whole extra blog post out of this one, but I will say that I've recently been converted to outlining. (I know, I know... GROAN). I'm not saying YOU need to outline, but-- I'll share a secret with you. I write slowly sometimes, too. I call these my writer's block phases, where I may not touch my WIPs for days, weeks, or even months. And it's always a plot problem that stops me. If I don't know where I'm going next, I can't write. Sometimes it's enough to let the story just capture me and sweep me away, but with major plot points, it's better to know how the dots connect at least a few steps ahead of where you are.
Once you know where you're going, all you have to do is write yourself there.
And now to completely contradict myself (but it will make sense, I swear):
4.) Let the story sweep you away.
No matter what you're writing, write it because you want to. Because it speaks to you. Because something there makes you feel all tingly and giddy inside when you think about it, because your sweet old neighbor asked you to, because you know you have the words to shape and mold and twist into something beautiful about beautiful things. This is the closest I can get to passing my obsession on to you. Let the story, whether you're excited about it or not, speak to you and pull you in. Something there is just for you-- something needs YOU to tell it. So tell it.
The second novel I wrote was a story that came to me in a very weird way, during a very weird time. When the idea first hit me, I thought, "Oh, that would make a great book. Someone should write that." But I didn't think I was "qualified" to write the story. I thought people would think I was crazy, writing that story.
Except no one else was going to write it. So I did. And I am so glad I did, because writing that first terrifying story that wouldn't leave me alone (my first novel had been very safe), opened me up to a whole world of possibility.
5.) And finally, let go of perfection.
You know what? I'm going to go out on a limb here and act like I am someone that anyone listens to. And I give you, yes-- YOU-- permission to let go of perfection. Use adverbs. Mix tenses. Forget you're in first/ second/ third person and mix them all up. Stick in a prologue. Heck, have three prologues. Start every sentence with a character's name. Forget dialogue tags. Use the same word six times in a paragraph-- or a sentence.
In other words, throw all the rules we're all so used to following out the window and just WRITE for once. Let the story pour out of you, messy and glorious. You know why?
You can always fix that stuff later. (Isn't that what December is for?) (Somewhere, four hundred literary agents all just reached for the scotch).
Let it out, my friends. In public, if you must. Let it all come out.
*I am not responsible for any arrests and/ or criminal records that may result from this blog post.
**I am also not responsible for any carpal tunnel. Ow my wrists hurt.
Got questions? Ask and I'll answer in the comments.
Monday, October 31, 2011
The winner, my review of THE IONIA SANCTION, and a spooooooky interview with author Gary Corby!
I am going to try my best to do this without spoilers.
Okay. So. Some of you may have heard recently that I managed to get my eager little paws on a copy of Gary Corby's upcoming second mystery, THE IONIA SANCTION. Which I then proceeded to read in three nights (fast for me, lately), staying up until 1:30 AM the last night trying not to wake up my husband so I could finish it.
Because, you guys, I LOVED IT. Gary has such an easy way of writing history. I'm sure it's not easy for him, but he makes it look easy. I love how his books fit neatly into these little spaces between real events (more on that later!)
One of the things that I really like about Gary's books is that he doesn't shy away from being historically accurate to soothe modern sensibilities. The main character, Nico, acts exactly as a young Hellene male should: like he's in charge. There's one part in the story where Nico buys a young girl as a slave, and despite the fact that he does this to save her from a much worse fate, he still expects her to treat him with the respect due a master. This dynamic is both comical within the setting of the story and appreciable from a historical point of view. Nico only acts as he would be expected to. In Ancient times, slaves were property, animals were tools, and men couldn't marry without their father's permission.
The mystery in this story is well-crafted, with an appropriate body count and an even-more appropriate exposure to the brutality of the ancient world. I think Gary does an excellent job of brushing up to the bad/gory parts but not focusing on them to the point that the book gets gruesome and loses focus. The plot is clear and easy to follow, and the twists are well-spaced. The pacing is compelling (obviously, since I couldn't put it down), and I love the historical lessons woven throughout the narrative without feeling forced.
My favorite part? Well, as a horse person, I loved the part where Nico tries to impress a lady and ride a horse. Actually, I just loved that horse. And Gary's inclusion of said horse in the cast of characters at the beginning of the book.
I also really liked the relationship between Diotima and Nico, which only gets better in this book.
So while I could probably go on and on and on about THE IONIA SANCTION, I think I will stop there and let Gary speak for himself a little bit.
Me: What's your favorite death in the book?
Me: Did the Greeks have a holiday like or similar to Halloween?
Gary: Anthesteria!
Okay. So. Some of you may have heard recently that I managed to get my eager little paws on a copy of Gary Corby's upcoming second mystery, THE IONIA SANCTION. Which I then proceeded to read in three nights (fast for me, lately), staying up until 1:30 AM the last night trying not to wake up my husband so I could finish it.
Because, you guys, I LOVED IT. Gary has such an easy way of writing history. I'm sure it's not easy for him, but he makes it look easy. I love how his books fit neatly into these little spaces between real events (more on that later!)
One of the things that I really like about Gary's books is that he doesn't shy away from being historically accurate to soothe modern sensibilities. The main character, Nico, acts exactly as a young Hellene male should: like he's in charge. There's one part in the story where Nico buys a young girl as a slave, and despite the fact that he does this to save her from a much worse fate, he still expects her to treat him with the respect due a master. This dynamic is both comical within the setting of the story and appreciable from a historical point of view. Nico only acts as he would be expected to. In Ancient times, slaves were property, animals were tools, and men couldn't marry without their father's permission.
The mystery in this story is well-crafted, with an appropriate body count and an even-more appropriate exposure to the brutality of the ancient world. I think Gary does an excellent job of brushing up to the bad/gory parts but not focusing on them to the point that the book gets gruesome and loses focus. The plot is clear and easy to follow, and the twists are well-spaced. The pacing is compelling (obviously, since I couldn't put it down), and I love the historical lessons woven throughout the narrative without feeling forced.
My favorite part? Well, as a horse person, I loved the part where Nico tries to impress a lady and ride a horse. Actually, I just loved that horse. And Gary's inclusion of said horse in the cast of characters at the beginning of the book.
I also really liked the relationship between Diotima and Nico, which only gets better in this book.
So while I could probably go on and on and on about THE IONIA SANCTION, I think I will stop there and let Gary speak for himself a little bit.
Me: What's your favorite death in the book?
Gary: A father never has favorites among his children! I guess that's a weird way to talk about killing people, but welcome to the demented world of mystery authors.
I don't know that it's a favorite, but the very first murder in the first book seems to have become the stuff of legend (A dead man fell from the sky, etc.). There's a death in the second book, The Ionia Sanction, that I had lots of fun writing. That killing appears about halfway through, but in early drafts, it was the first in the book. I was told in no uncertain terms that scene had to be moved back! It seems I did a good job of evoking reader reaction.
The importance of a death in a mystery isn't the ick factor, it's what it means to the reader. I once disemboweled three women, and no one batted an eyelid. But then I wrote a scene in which a woman was merely punched unconscious, and I couldn't get it past the editor. Context is everything.
Me: Did the Greeks have a holiday like or similar to Halloween?
The Greeks had a zillion more festival days than us. That's because their calendar didn't have weeks, so there were no weekends. The only way to get time off work was to hold festivals in honor of the gods.
Four of them were in honor of Dionysos, the god of wine and fun parties, and of these the oldest festival -- so old it was considered ancient even in classical times -- was Anthesteria. It went over three days.
The first day was the Day of the Jars. The previous year's wine was opened and everyone had a taste. Children were adorned in flowers.
The second day was the Day of the Libations. Everyone partied. People dressed up in costumes.
Weirdly, both days were considered hugely unholy. During this time, the psyches of the dead rose from Hades to walk the earth.
The third day was the Day of Pots. It was a festival of the dead, designed to drive the psyches back to Hades. People offered food sacrifices to the dead, and to Hermes Chthonios. You probably won't have much trouble working out where Lovecraft's Cthulhu comes from.
Me: One of my very favorite parts of your books is how you find little pockets of intrigue in real history to tuck your stories into. Has it been hard finding those pockets and putting Nico in them? Of THE PERICLES COMMISSION and THE IONIA SANCTION, what is your favorite coincidence that worked out this way?
Gary: Searching for intrigue in ancient Athens is like looking for toys in a playroom. You only have to take one step inside to get Lego embedded in your foot.
Me: One of my very favorite parts of your books is how you find little pockets of intrigue in real history to tuck your stories into. Has it been hard finding those pockets and putting Nico in them? Of THE PERICLES COMMISSION and THE IONIA SANCTION, what is your favorite coincidence that worked out this way?
Inserting Nico into ancient conspiracies is more of a challenge, because I don't want to break history. So I spend a lot of time thinking about the best way to do it. In the case of The Pericles Commission, because the assassination of Ephialtes was so little documented, I had room to move. (I certainly didn't think so at the time, but I do now!). The Ionia Sanction was much more of a challenge because one of the central characters, a fellow named Themistocles, was extremely famous and thoroughly well documented. I must have spent a month doing nothing but think about how to thread my plot into known history. This sort of puzzle is one of the most fun parts of the writing.
The best coincidence is a toughie, because it's surprising how often coincidence comes to my aid. Here's an example: that death I mentioned before, in the middle of Ionia Sanction...I put that in because the plot required it, but then I discovered while doing research that a real historical person had died exactly the same way, in exactly the same place, almost exactly 60 years before the events of my story. Needless to say I wrote that into the plot!
Me: If Nico could dress up as anything or anyone he wanted for a day, what/ who do you think he would pick?
Gary: Diotima's the one who's into wearing disguises. She'll dress as a man to get into places she's not supposed to go.
Somehow I can see Nico dressed as James Bond. In fact they'd make a terrific partnership. Nico would almost certainly do something that got Bond killed.
Thanks so much, Gary, for taking the time to answer these questions (and write such a fun book)!
And congratulations to Amalia T., who won the IONIA SANCTION ARC prize pack! Thanks to everyone who entered!
THE IONIA SANCTION comes out on November 8th. Pre-order at Amazon.com or B&N.com.
Happy Anthesteria, everyone!
Thanks so much, Gary, for taking the time to answer these questions (and write such a fun book)!
And congratulations to Amalia T., who won the IONIA SANCTION ARC prize pack! Thanks to everyone who entered!
THE IONIA SANCTION comes out on November 8th. Pre-order at Amazon.com or B&N.com.
Happy Anthesteria, everyone!
Monday, October 24, 2011
WIN an ARC of Gary Corby's second book, THE IONIA SANCTION!!!
Okay, so--
Guys, I don't mean to brag, but I know some people.
I know some people (like Gary Corby) who were awesome enough to think of me when it came time to send out ARCs of their (his) second book in their (his) awesome historical mystery series. And that's how I happen to have a copy of this book, a few weeks before its release date.
I'm betting there are some historical mystery fans out there who would also like to have a copy of this book, a week or two before its release date, amiright?
Amazon.com gives this description of THE IONIA SANCTION:
"Athens, 460 B.C. Life's tough for Nicolaos, the only investigating agent in ancient Athens. His girlfriend's left him and his boss wants to fire him. But when an Athenian official is murdered, the brilliant statesman Pericles has no choice but to put Nico on the job.Now, you guys may have noticed that I am a huge fan of Gary's work, considering that I put his first book up for grabs every time we have a contest here at the Archives. Frankly, I love how Gary makes the ancient world come to life in his books. The plots are twisted, and classic mystery in and of themselves, but they come with a helping of a history lesson that, for a history buff like me, is extremely interesting.
And I think you'll love his work too.
So! On to business. I have an ARC of the next book in the series, THE IONIA SANCTION, due out November 8th, 2011, to give away to one VERY lucky Archives reader.
But! I'm not JUST giving away an ARC of THE IONIA SANCTION. No sirree. I'm ALSO giving away a copy of the first book in the series, THE PERICLES COMMISSION, just in case you've never heard about a mystery series set in ancient Greece and need to catch up. (If you already have THE PERICLES COMMISSION in your possession, we'll talk. I've got some other books I can send along, as well). I am also giving away two THE PERICLES COMMISSION bookmarks that Gary gave me on his tour stop in San Diego last year, along with three mini replica Greek-style statues to adorn your desk in the highest Hellenistic style. Or maybe Roman. Let's be honest. I really have no clue what they're supposed to be.
(They didn't come labeled, okay?)
So! Here's a picture of what you could win:
The statues are two busts, and one Angsty Leaning Guy. (Perhaps if Gary stops by the comment section, he might be able to shed some light on these).
Now on to the contest itself:
All you have to do to enter to win is leave a comment on this post, telling me what I should do with the leftover Vegemite I also have from Gary's visit last year. (Preferably besides eating it). Or not. Just commenting will be fine. But it would entertain me to hear your answers. I'd also really like it if you followed this blog, so I'll give you one more entry for that. And if you tweet or blog about it, I'll give you one more entry for that.
So, in an easier to read format:
+1 for commenting telling me what to do with leftover Vegemite (besides eating it)
+1 for following the Archives
+1 for tweeting/ blogging about the contest
But you need to hurry up and do this because I am going to draw a winner on THURSDAY, October 27th, 2011. I will accept entries until noon Pacific on that day.
HERE'S THE IMPORTANT PART:
I'd REALLY like you to get this ARC before the book actually comes out. So, if you enter, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE come back and check the comments section of THIS POST on Thursday afternoon to see if you're the winner, and email me your address so I can send it out ASAP. If I don't hear from you, I'm going to assume you don't care about getting it before the book comes out, which is also fine, but yeah. There you have it.
Minor note: Due to FTC blah blah blah, I should probably tell you Gary's publisher did send me this ARC, along with one to review. It does not change this blog post, nor will it affect the review I will do of THE IONIA SANCTION next week.
Happy contesting!
Guys, I don't mean to brag, but I know some people.
I know some people (like Gary Corby) who were awesome enough to think of me when it came time to send out ARCs of their (his) second book in their (his) awesome historical mystery series. And that's how I happen to have a copy of this book, a few weeks before its release date.
I'm betting there are some historical mystery fans out there who would also like to have a copy of this book, a week or two before its release date, amiright?
Amazon.com gives this description of THE IONIA SANCTION:
"Athens, 460 B.C. Life's tough for Nicolaos, the only investigating agent in ancient Athens. His girlfriend's left him and his boss wants to fire him. But when an Athenian official is murdered, the brilliant statesman Pericles has no choice but to put Nico on the job.
The case takes Nico, in the company of a beautiful slave girl, to the land of Ionia within the Persian Empire. The Persians will execute him on the spot if they think he's a spy. Beyond that, there are only a few minor problems:
He's being chased by brigands who are only waiting for the right price before they kill him.
Somehow he has to placate his girlfriend, who is very angry about that slave girl.
He must meet Themistocles, the military genius who saved Greece during the Persian Wars, and then defected to the hated enemy.
And to solve the crime, Nico must uncover a secret that could not only destroy Athens, but will force him to choose between love, and ambition, and his own life."
And I think you'll love his work too.
So! On to business. I have an ARC of the next book in the series, THE IONIA SANCTION, due out November 8th, 2011, to give away to one VERY lucky Archives reader.
But! I'm not JUST giving away an ARC of THE IONIA SANCTION. No sirree. I'm ALSO giving away a copy of the first book in the series, THE PERICLES COMMISSION, just in case you've never heard about a mystery series set in ancient Greece and need to catch up. (If you already have THE PERICLES COMMISSION in your possession, we'll talk. I've got some other books I can send along, as well). I am also giving away two THE PERICLES COMMISSION bookmarks that Gary gave me on his tour stop in San Diego last year, along with three mini replica Greek-style statues to adorn your desk in the highest Hellenistic style. Or maybe Roman. Let's be honest. I really have no clue what they're supposed to be.
(They didn't come labeled, okay?)
So! Here's a picture of what you could win:
The statues are two busts, and one Angsty Leaning Guy. (Perhaps if Gary stops by the comment section, he might be able to shed some light on these).
Now on to the contest itself:
All you have to do to enter to win is leave a comment on this post, telling me what I should do with the leftover Vegemite I also have from Gary's visit last year. (Preferably besides eating it). Or not. Just commenting will be fine. But it would entertain me to hear your answers. I'd also really like it if you followed this blog, so I'll give you one more entry for that. And if you tweet or blog about it, I'll give you one more entry for that.
So, in an easier to read format:
+1 for commenting telling me what to do with leftover Vegemite (besides eating it)
+1 for following the Archives
+1 for tweeting/ blogging about the contest
But you need to hurry up and do this because I am going to draw a winner on THURSDAY, October 27th, 2011. I will accept entries until noon Pacific on that day.
HERE'S THE IMPORTANT PART:
I'd REALLY like you to get this ARC before the book actually comes out. So, if you enter, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE come back and check the comments section of THIS POST on Thursday afternoon to see if you're the winner, and email me your address so I can send it out ASAP. If I don't hear from you, I'm going to assume you don't care about getting it before the book comes out, which is also fine, but yeah. There you have it.
Minor note: Due to FTC blah blah blah, I should probably tell you Gary's publisher did send me this ARC, along with one to review. It does not change this blog post, nor will it affect the review I will do of THE IONIA SANCTION next week.
Happy contesting!
Monday, October 17, 2011
My kingdom for a horse
I would have given anything to have my horse in San Francisco.
Don't get me wrong; she probably would have been terrified. It's a very busy city, which scared me at times. I guess it would be more appropriate to say I would have given anything to have A horse in San Francisco. One used to the city.
Why?
Well, mostly, because travel by car, bike, and foot are nigh impossible in that place. Public transportation wasn't actually convenient for us. And there are SO. MANY. HILLS. But a well-trained, well-shod horse?
Easy as eating pie. (I don't like saying "easy as pie" because it implies that making pie is easy. Have you ever made a pie? It's a lot of work!)
It would have made our two days in the city a lot less stressful, that's for sure.
But the city had some great architecture; neat little unexpected pockets of "ooh, pretty!" that kept me pretty well entertained whenever we walked somewhere. At one point, after we managed to spring our car from parking jail, we drove by this massive stone cathedral that looked like it had been dropped from Europe into a neighborhood where I totally would NOT have expected to see it. It had buttresses and everything! Unfortunately, because we were driving, I did not get to take any pictures of it. Yet another situation where being on horseback would have been awesome.
And of course, a horse would have been useless in getting to Alcatraz, where one of the best parts of our vacation happened. But that's a story for another time.
Anyway, I got a lot of exciting news/ potential news while I was on my vacation, which means some great stuff will be coming up on this blog! Stay tuned, Alliterati! I'm back!
Don't get me wrong; she probably would have been terrified. It's a very busy city, which scared me at times. I guess it would be more appropriate to say I would have given anything to have A horse in San Francisco. One used to the city.
Why?
Well, mostly, because travel by car, bike, and foot are nigh impossible in that place. Public transportation wasn't actually convenient for us. And there are SO. MANY. HILLS. But a well-trained, well-shod horse?
Easy as eating pie. (I don't like saying "easy as pie" because it implies that making pie is easy. Have you ever made a pie? It's a lot of work!)
It would have made our two days in the city a lot less stressful, that's for sure.
But the city had some great architecture; neat little unexpected pockets of "ooh, pretty!" that kept me pretty well entertained whenever we walked somewhere. At one point, after we managed to spring our car from parking jail, we drove by this massive stone cathedral that looked like it had been dropped from Europe into a neighborhood where I totally would NOT have expected to see it. It had buttresses and everything! Unfortunately, because we were driving, I did not get to take any pictures of it. Yet another situation where being on horseback would have been awesome.
And of course, a horse would have been useless in getting to Alcatraz, where one of the best parts of our vacation happened. But that's a story for another time.
Anyway, I got a lot of exciting news/ potential news while I was on my vacation, which means some great stuff will be coming up on this blog! Stay tuned, Alliterati! I'm back!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Vacation Mode
I'm allllready in it.
Hubs and I are taking a little trip for our anniversary and I can't. wait. I love traveling, but we hardly ever get to go anywhere. And then when we do, we tend to go to the same places over and over again. I wish we could manage to leave the west coast for once, but alas, that's not to be anytime soon.
Still, I won't complain-- California is a beautiful state, and has a little bit of everything. This time, we're going somewhere new-- San Francisco-- as well as our old favorite haunts in Monterey and Big Sur.
I'm looking forward to clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls, sleeping right on the ocean, taking tours of kitschy places, camping under the redwoods, and driving down the gorgeous coast. It's strange how much I want to try something new, and yet, at the same time, I want to go with what I already know. Monterey and Big Sur are where my heart lives, I like to say. And it's true-- whenever the travel urge comes calling, my mind wants to visit those places first. So despite my desire to expand our travel horizons, it would have to be at the expense of a visit to my favorite place on earth.
Which of course leads to the conundrum of the fact that I might find a NEW favorite place on earth if only I'd go somewhere else.
Ah well. One step at a time! I will put on my fancy high heels just once during this trip to try something new, but then I'll slip right back into my old comfy shoes and relax somewhere that feels like a second home.
I still can't wait.
What's your travel style? Do you visit different locales or do you tend to gravitate toward the same spots? Have you ever had a clam chowder sourdough bread bowl in San Francisco, and if so, where is the best one?
Hubs and I are taking a little trip for our anniversary and I can't. wait. I love traveling, but we hardly ever get to go anywhere. And then when we do, we tend to go to the same places over and over again. I wish we could manage to leave the west coast for once, but alas, that's not to be anytime soon.
Still, I won't complain-- California is a beautiful state, and has a little bit of everything. This time, we're going somewhere new-- San Francisco-- as well as our old favorite haunts in Monterey and Big Sur.
I'm looking forward to clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls, sleeping right on the ocean, taking tours of kitschy places, camping under the redwoods, and driving down the gorgeous coast. It's strange how much I want to try something new, and yet, at the same time, I want to go with what I already know. Monterey and Big Sur are where my heart lives, I like to say. And it's true-- whenever the travel urge comes calling, my mind wants to visit those places first. So despite my desire to expand our travel horizons, it would have to be at the expense of a visit to my favorite place on earth.
Which of course leads to the conundrum of the fact that I might find a NEW favorite place on earth if only I'd go somewhere else.
Ah well. One step at a time! I will put on my fancy high heels just once during this trip to try something new, but then I'll slip right back into my old comfy shoes and relax somewhere that feels like a second home.
I still can't wait.
What's your travel style? Do you visit different locales or do you tend to gravitate toward the same spots? Have you ever had a clam chowder sourdough bread bowl in San Francisco, and if so, where is the best one?
Monday, September 26, 2011
CONTEST WINNERS! Finally! Or, why I should never make promises.
So you guys may remember me. I used to blog 'round these parts. Then we had the great idea of having a contest here at the Archives, and everything was going really well until my tooth got infected and I had to get a root canal.
In this post (my most recent one), I told you guys about the tooth. I didn't get the chance to tell you what happened next.
The serious painkillers and antibiotics I was on gave me a pretty bad complication from side effects. We started in urgent care, where they advised us to just "keep an eye on it" at home. The next day, I was pretty sure that I needed more help, but then the Power Outage That Shut Down Southern California happened, and I couldn't go to the ER because there were a lot of people out there that had very legitimate reasons for being there.
Luckily, the power came back rather quicker than anyone expected, and we were able to go to the ER in the morning. A very lucky thing indeed. I had a couple minor procedures done and they declared me fit to release. But it was an ordeal. I hadn't eaten in a week because of the pain in my mouth and not feeling good from the meds. I still didn't eat very much the week after. I lost seven pounds between my urgent care visit and the followup with my primary doc seven days later.
I was wiped out, weak, tired, and still not feeling great. I just needed to heal, but it took some time. On top of that, I STILL got to have a root canal done-- in two visits. The last visit was last Thursday, and while there's one more dental appointment in my near future, the root canal is over with and the next one can wait. And wait it will-- Hubby and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary in a couple weeks and I refuse to have yet another dental procedure before we go.
So that's where I've been, Alliterati, and while I'm no longer on Vicodin, you are more than welcome to call me names. :)
Anyway, on to my contest results! In the event that you've forgotten what the prizes even were (Dude... I totally did... no shame at all in that), here's the original contest post to refresh your memory. Remember, if you've won, please email me at wickedmoon921 at gmail within one month to claim your prize or I'll pick an alternate winner. I will try to get them out ASAP but will be honest-- probably won't be til later in October, after we get back from our trip.
Okay, without further ado...
Well, some ado.
First, the winner of the creative contest, and therefore the picker of the first prize:
Jeigh!
Jeigh's entry for the Greatest Novel That Never Was:
"Lydia had always known spoons were the safest and most practical of all utensils. How people had survived on the Notherworlds before the Razing of All Pointy Things had simmered civilization down to just her tiny village was a mystery to her. But one day, a mysterious and handsome stranger shakes the very foundations of her beliefs with the shiny fork in his hand and one question tumbling from his full, slightly chapped lips: "How do you people eat steak around here?""
Thanks for the giggles, Jeigh!
And now for the random winner.
Usually, I use Random.org for this sort of thing. But I only had a handful of entries this time, and I was feeling a little loopy this morning. So I let my cat(s) pick the winner.
Here is the story in pictures:
Contest entry names on a page
Torn into pieces
Crumpled into balls and ready for an impartial cat-judge
Said impartial cat-judge. I think he looks a little Simon Cowell-esque in this photo.
The important selection
Reaching for the Alliterati's Next Top Idol Dancer
Congratulations, Adam!!! You can pick your prize after I hear back from Jeigh unless you choose the mystery prize. Then just email me a genre and age group and I will pick something for you :)
Thanks for your patience, everyone! Happy Monday!
In this post (my most recent one), I told you guys about the tooth. I didn't get the chance to tell you what happened next.
The serious painkillers and antibiotics I was on gave me a pretty bad complication from side effects. We started in urgent care, where they advised us to just "keep an eye on it" at home. The next day, I was pretty sure that I needed more help, but then the Power Outage That Shut Down Southern California happened, and I couldn't go to the ER because there were a lot of people out there that had very legitimate reasons for being there.
Luckily, the power came back rather quicker than anyone expected, and we were able to go to the ER in the morning. A very lucky thing indeed. I had a couple minor procedures done and they declared me fit to release. But it was an ordeal. I hadn't eaten in a week because of the pain in my mouth and not feeling good from the meds. I still didn't eat very much the week after. I lost seven pounds between my urgent care visit and the followup with my primary doc seven days later.
I was wiped out, weak, tired, and still not feeling great. I just needed to heal, but it took some time. On top of that, I STILL got to have a root canal done-- in two visits. The last visit was last Thursday, and while there's one more dental appointment in my near future, the root canal is over with and the next one can wait. And wait it will-- Hubby and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary in a couple weeks and I refuse to have yet another dental procedure before we go.
So that's where I've been, Alliterati, and while I'm no longer on Vicodin, you are more than welcome to call me names. :)
Anyway, on to my contest results! In the event that you've forgotten what the prizes even were (Dude... I totally did... no shame at all in that), here's the original contest post to refresh your memory. Remember, if you've won, please email me at wickedmoon921 at gmail within one month to claim your prize or I'll pick an alternate winner. I will try to get them out ASAP but will be honest-- probably won't be til later in October, after we get back from our trip.
Okay, without further ado...
Well, some ado.
First, the winner of the creative contest, and therefore the picker of the first prize:
Jeigh!
Jeigh's entry for the Greatest Novel That Never Was:
"Lydia had always known spoons were the safest and most practical of all utensils. How people had survived on the Notherworlds before the Razing of All Pointy Things had simmered civilization down to just her tiny village was a mystery to her. But one day, a mysterious and handsome stranger shakes the very foundations of her beliefs with the shiny fork in his hand and one question tumbling from his full, slightly chapped lips: "How do you people eat steak around here?""
Thanks for the giggles, Jeigh!
And now for the random winner.
Usually, I use Random.org for this sort of thing. But I only had a handful of entries this time, and I was feeling a little loopy this morning. So I let my cat(s) pick the winner.
Here is the story in pictures:
Contest entry names on a page
Torn into pieces
Crumpled into balls and ready for an impartial cat-judge
Said impartial cat-judge. I think he looks a little Simon Cowell-esque in this photo.
The important selection
Reaching for the Alliterati's Next Top Idol Dancer
Congratulations, Adam!!! You can pick your prize after I hear back from Jeigh unless you choose the mystery prize. Then just email me a genre and age group and I will pick something for you :)
Thanks for your patience, everyone! Happy Monday!
Monday, September 5, 2011
I never thought I'd have to take last week's post title so literally...
So last week, I wrote a post called "The Wracking of Nerves," in which I talked/whined/paranoia'd my way through the dilemma of the week: still having a job after Labor Day.
The good news?
On Wednesday, at eight o'clock at night, my boss called me to tell me they were keeping me.
I get to keep my job, guys.
*pauses to let that sink in*
I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY! Thank you so much to everyone who has listened to me being neurotic and anxious and unable to focus on anything else. Thanks for all your well-wishes, and encouragement on this crazy journey. It's been amazing, and I'm so excited I get to keep on finding out what cool stuff can happen in a zoo for an educator like me!
Something else happened on Wednesday, though. My tooth, which I had gotten worked on six months ago by a dentist I will now refer to as the Butcher of San Diego, started to hurt. A LOT.
I was popping ibuprofen like it was candy, and it was just getting worse. So I went into a different, new dentist on Thursday, where they proceeded to tell me that it looked like the Butcher had screwed up my filling to the point where I needed a root canal.
Guess what Thursday was the day before?
That's right. The four-day weekend all dentists apparently take for Labor Day.
The pain got exponentially worse. When I left the dentist on Thursday, they told me to keep taking ibuprofen and I should be fine.
By Saturday afternoon, I was rocking back and forth on the couch, crying. My husband called the emergency number on our dentist's line asking if there was anything else we could do.
He didn't call back til almost nine o'clock that night, but when he did, he finally called me in a prescription for some stronger painkillers and antibiotics.
It took two hours to get them filled, but then I slept for the first time in three days without waking up in pain six times.
My husband had to drive me to work the next day, but I thought I'd make it through the day now that I had the super drugs. I was wrong. I should have stayed home. Despite working my way up to a very high dose, the pain was STILL breaking through every hour or so, sending me into paroxysms of pacing and moaning in pain-- really awesome to do in public, in uniform.
Finally, last night, I caved in and took the maximum dose I could. And I slept. And slept, and slept, and slept, until about 1:00 this afternoon, waking up only once to take a new dose.
It's finally starting to work. I just hope, when I finally go in to the dentist tomorrow, that they can actually take care of it... I'm not sure how much longer I can reasonably go about like this.
And that, my friends, is why I unfortunately STILL don't have contest results for you. But if I don't have them next week, I give you all permission to call me horrible names. In fact, you can do that now, if you like. Really. Go right ahead. I'm so hopped up on vicodin I'll probably just laugh.
Maybe.
Thanks for being patient, Alliteratus. Means the world to me. :)
The good news?
On Wednesday, at eight o'clock at night, my boss called me to tell me they were keeping me.
I get to keep my job, guys.
*pauses to let that sink in*
I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY! Thank you so much to everyone who has listened to me being neurotic and anxious and unable to focus on anything else. Thanks for all your well-wishes, and encouragement on this crazy journey. It's been amazing, and I'm so excited I get to keep on finding out what cool stuff can happen in a zoo for an educator like me!
Something else happened on Wednesday, though. My tooth, which I had gotten worked on six months ago by a dentist I will now refer to as the Butcher of San Diego, started to hurt. A LOT.
I was popping ibuprofen like it was candy, and it was just getting worse. So I went into a different, new dentist on Thursday, where they proceeded to tell me that it looked like the Butcher had screwed up my filling to the point where I needed a root canal.
Guess what Thursday was the day before?
That's right. The four-day weekend all dentists apparently take for Labor Day.
The pain got exponentially worse. When I left the dentist on Thursday, they told me to keep taking ibuprofen and I should be fine.
By Saturday afternoon, I was rocking back and forth on the couch, crying. My husband called the emergency number on our dentist's line asking if there was anything else we could do.
He didn't call back til almost nine o'clock that night, but when he did, he finally called me in a prescription for some stronger painkillers and antibiotics.
It took two hours to get them filled, but then I slept for the first time in three days without waking up in pain six times.
My husband had to drive me to work the next day, but I thought I'd make it through the day now that I had the super drugs. I was wrong. I should have stayed home. Despite working my way up to a very high dose, the pain was STILL breaking through every hour or so, sending me into paroxysms of pacing and moaning in pain-- really awesome to do in public, in uniform.
Finally, last night, I caved in and took the maximum dose I could. And I slept. And slept, and slept, and slept, until about 1:00 this afternoon, waking up only once to take a new dose.
It's finally starting to work. I just hope, when I finally go in to the dentist tomorrow, that they can actually take care of it... I'm not sure how much longer I can reasonably go about like this.
And that, my friends, is why I unfortunately STILL don't have contest results for you. But if I don't have them next week, I give you all permission to call me horrible names. In fact, you can do that now, if you like. Really. Go right ahead. I'm so hopped up on vicodin I'll probably just laugh.
Maybe.
Thanks for being patient, Alliteratus. Means the world to me. :)
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