JE 35 Wild Ride

In just a few more hours my final project is due.  So I'll be working on that again in a bit but I first wanted to tell you about this morning.

I went to see an acupuncturist.  You see I have heard for quite a while and from various sources that acupuncture just might help with my migraines.

Despite my fear of needles, I decided to give it a try, I mean I have tried just about everything else, right?  So I went in for a consultation and ended up with a complementary session that took me on one wild ride.  Wild ride.

First off - I did feel the needles.  But it wasn't painful.  Migraine pain seems to dull all other discomfort anyway. 

I am uncomfortable trying to sit at the desk top so can't really get into it but - I felt like I was twisting, or untwisting.  I saw lights and felt as though the table was a gravity table and that I might fall off if it wasn't.  Strange right? 

I kinda felt a little Steven King-ish.  Thoughts of needles melting into my body and dissolving, the thought of a sensation of being "done" turkey roaster style as the needles pop right out...  Weird.

I know I am not articulating this very well as I am hunched over the computer - attempting to get it out.

Well I will stop - gotta go get my laptop, lay down, and type over my head.

JE 34 Plot Treatment - Grand (or Ain't Life Grand?)

It seems that what I am developing is more of a plot treatment than anything else.  Everything that I am writing applies to this one story, but the story isn't ready to be written just yet.  (How's that for the dog ate my homework excuse)?

It is big.  Too big for me to wrap my mind around yet.  So I am writing down bits and pieces.  And this is what I think I have decided to turn in.  It is what Anne Lamott had to do to get the inner workings of one of her rejected manuscripts flushed out. 

Themes.  Characters.  Scenes.  Symbols.  Setting.  Conflict - that's the part that'll move the story along.  That and dialogue.  But they aren't talking to one another yet.  There may even be a few stragglers - latecomers to the party.

JE 33 Progression

I've had the idea for my final project since the second assignment - short short story - when I crammed a whole bunch of information into 1,500 words.  I seem to be going through a complicated process to get the story out.  I write a bit, hash some more out in my head, take some notes. Think about themes and symbols.  Get to know my characters needs and wants.  Their fears, expectations.  Their flaws.  Idiosyncrasies.

The plot is proving more difficult.  I have scenes, but they don't fit together, at least not yet.  I wonder if my mind knows something it's not telling me. 

The main character is most like me, making it difficult to write.  And impossible to post.

But I keep clicking away...

JE 32 Bad Back and Standing Up Thanksgiving

Have I mentioned that I have lordosis?  I don't think I have.  It's no big deal.  It just means that I have a pronounced curve in my spine.  I also have trouble with my sciatic nerve.  Sometimes it causes this burning or stabbing feeling in my right leg.  But not all the time.  I have found relief with stretching and yoga and, most recently, with Thai yoga massage therapy. 

But then I went to a chiropractor and things got worse.  I don't know what I was expecting, but not this.  I went once and I was fine.  After the second visit though, it was all bad news - woke up the next day with a "lateral shift" which apparently only occurs in 3% of the population.  Then again, I'm not your average girl.  The absurd happens to me. 

I can't really get into it as I am holding my laptop above me as I tap at letters on the keyboard, let's just say, writing has been a challenge.  I did manage to text myself the first 1,000 words of my final project.

In the past few days I have seen some improvement.  I took Charlie and Rudy to the bike path and I managed to corkscrew my way down to Trunk River where the boy skipped rocks.  Yesterday I made it down to the beach at the end of the road.  But what a thing!  As if migraines weren't enough.

Too bad for me that I haven't been able to make it to yoga, or to volunteer at Charlie's school, or the many number of things I usually try to do when I don't have a headache.

My arms are getting tired so I will just post this bitch fest.  But I just wanted you to know why I have been a lame poster.  It's difficult - but I'll manage.  Somehow.

At least I am through with the steroids.

JE 31 Difficult Answers to Easy Questions

On which side of the bed do you sleep?  A seemingly simple question, but I have a tendency to make things more difficult - to overthink them.  Questions such as these pose a problem to my brain.  Maybe it is because I am a visual thinker but aren't there two ways to answer this question?  When laying in bed one can say on the right, when looking at the bed would the answer be changed?  Would it be opposite.

In film and theater, stage right and screen right were invented out of the same necessity were they not?  I know, who cares what side of the bed one sleeps.  But it's the principle of the matter isn't it?  Do I sleep on the right, the left, or bed right? 

It may not matter to you but it matters to me.  Plus this is only an example of a seemingly simple question with a thoroughly frustrating absence of an answer.

JE 30 Verification

Just got back from class.  Next Wednesday the rough draft of the final project is due.  The following week the Final Final Project is due and the following week is when I need to have 50 journal entries.  Putting me on track to complete my writing journal on time as long as I post a journal entry a day.  As you can see I have posted 3 or 4 today after an absence of 3 or 4 weeks.

But sometimes life just gets in the way.  And there is always composing in your head.

Got my eyes dialated today - it was as awful as I remembered it to be all those years ago - only this time the doctor put reversing drops in my eyes.  But they were not fast acting.  I was sitting in my car, blinded by the light on this rainy day in Cape Cod, at 2pm waiting for them to kick in as I listened to my latest book on CD, And The Hippos Were Boiled In Their Tanks by William S. Burroughs and Jack Kerouac.  The doctor assured me I should be okay to drive as only my immediate vision was affected, long distance was not a problem.  And it wasn't.  Light was a problem.  Seeing my phone.  Myself.  Driving to Hyannis in the rain at dusk - problem.  It was kind of like driving with a thin film of vasoline covering my eyes.  But I made it.  And I made it home and obviously my eyes have returned to normal as I can type this in moderate fashion.  Feeling only that fine sand or coarse salt has somehow affected my eyes.

So for now dear sailors, I must say adieu, au revoir, and whatever sailors say.

Signing off..

JE 29 Final Project

The time to begin thinking "Final Project" has come and gone for Final Project is due next Wednesday.  Whether this is Rough Draft or not I will have to verify.  I think it is Rough Draft.

The assignment - write 3,000 words in a genre of your choice.  But here I have simplified. 

It seems I am behind on my writing journal.  I am pretty sure at this point I should be in the 40s.  As you can see I am not.  But have faith - I will get there.  Just you wait and see.

My writing class meets on Wednesday nights.  One of the grades, in addition to attendance, is to meet with the professor to review one's portfolio and talk about anything that might be of concern.  I used this time with Professor Kershner to talk about the possibility of What Next?

He suggested that I might take the Creative Writing course again with a different professor.  But then I mentioned that I have this ability to catch errors.  Copy errors.  With this he suggested that I take the Suffolk University Copy Editing course offered on the Cape Cod Community College campus.  That day I walked into the Suffolk University office and spoke to Ann Miller, who was very helpful in brainstorming with me ways in which I might be able to pay for this course.  You see a 3 credit course at SU will cost close to $2,000 and that is before buying books.

This new development - finding Copy Editing - is a beacon.  Accidently I am good at this.  Words are my passion.  Since I have been diagnosed with Chronic Migraines and cannot predict when a migraine will dawn this new possibility is my light house, my marker, the point on which I must set my bow.

JE 27 - Skip a Step

It seems in my haste I skipped journal entry 27.  I sort of knew I was as I was doing it but did it anyway.  Maybe that's what makes me the true rebel that I am.  Though more telling is that I could not let this clerical error get away.  Although my sense of order is juxtaposed by this misstep.  I will forge on.

JE 28 Looks Like Rain Today or Sunshine on a Rainy Day

I said it.  It looks like rain today.  And this - does not make me happy.  At all.  You want sunny disposition?  You gotta show me sunny.  No sun, no smile.  Well, this is a bit of an exaggeration but not much of one.

For the past few months I have been seeing a massage therapist to help control my migraines.  But let me tell you she is so much more than that.  The past four times I saw Denise it rained.  No matter.  She has a sun machine.  One 90-minute session with my friend and I always come out smiling.  She is my sunshine.  What more could you ask for?  Sunshine on a rainy day.

JE 26 Feature - Proud Warrior - Notes

Rough Draft of the feature article is due tomorrow. 

Yesterday I went back to the doctor because my sinus infection did not go away after 10 days on antibiotics, so now I am back on for another 10.  This antibiotic is extra hard to take for a cheese lover like myself.  No dairy two hours before or one hour after taking the medicine - or was it the other way around?  Oh and DO take with food.  Hope a couple of crackers will do.  Basically I need to find a 4 hour window with NO cheese but WITH food, a tall order for this vegetarian.  But - none of this has anything to do with my feature.

It is about yoga.  And this fabulous teacher I discovered.  She teaches at St. Barnabas church in the parish room, among other places.  I first heard of Carmina from a poster on the wall of Coffee Obsession in Woods Hole.  It took me a year or two to actually go to her class, but once I went, I was in love.  Happy, blissful, yoga love.

In the meantime I started taking classes at Blooming Lotus Yoga Studio (BLYS) on Main Street where I found one instructor I really enjoyed, Skye.  After I had been to Carmina's class a few times I asked Skye if she knew of her.  Of course she did - and loved her!  I think she may have even been so inspired by her to decide to become an instructor herself.

This is what she does for people, she inspires them.  She talks of prana and downward dog, but also breath and honoring it.  She is a breath of fresh air.  Someone who makes you appreciate taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

The class I attend is restorative and it is filled with ladies my mother's age and older, of course some younger as well.  Many of these women are so incredibly nimble and healthy and I have to believe that Carmina and her yoga have something to do with it.  I can't tout it the fountain of youth but drinking in that restorative breath creates a room filled with strong women, proud warriors looking in.

JE 25 Map of Africa

I should be better at geography.  I am visual, absurdly visual, so you would think maps I would be okay at.  Not so.  Street maps are embarassing.  I have to orient my body - and map - in accordance to things around me. 

Since I have had Africa in my mind for the past 3 years, I thought I should verify that the map in my head does in fact coincide with the map in reality.  It does not. 

For one, on my head map Tanzania is way farther north, not right at the equator.  Although I did have Zanzibar right in position with it.  In case any if you are like me - here is a map of Africa courtesy of worldatlas. 

JE 24 Can't Read it Days

Today happens to be one of those - can't read it days - unfortunately today is also final draft one act play day.  Little changes and a print are going to have to do.  This mornings retweak went poorly.  I didn't feel like reading the dialogue.  (Must be some blow me over stuff, huh)?  Made changes to the stage directions that disgusted me.  And gave up.

Maybe it's the rain.  Maybe it's the fact that my friends are in Tampa living their lives and I am here living on the moon with my parents and my son.  Or maybe it's the fact that Saturday I will be another year closer to 40. 

Usually yoga helps.  Irregular yoga helps more than no yoga at all but today nothing helps.  The thought of NaNoWriMo has me thinking failure.

So instead of wasting your time and reading this post, do something productive because as you can see - I am not.  Maybe in a bit I will kick myself in the ass and get out of my own way but for now I will stew in my PMS and bloat.

JE 23 Headache

It's hard to want to write with a headache.  Yesterday one built all day with every activity culminating in this morning's migraine and rescue medications which I try to avoid taking as they make me feel altogether unhuman.  So here I am in my zombie form after drugs, caffine, sugar, and more carbs.

I blog in a few places - yesterday was on my son's blog involving pictures and a brief description of the day's activities.

This week my one act play is due.  I have three days to finish.  You may have read it - unromantic.  I need to add stage directions and possibly rework scenes 2 and 4.  Or of course I could scrap it altogether.

But first - I need to feel better.  The thing about taking migraine medicine is that it makes you feel as though you are losing brain cells at an alarmingly fast rate - which in fact you probably are.  It makes language slow.  Not a good thing, especially if you fashion yourself a writer.

So for now I think I will go regain composure and some words.

JE 22 Pocket Treasures

Often I find things in my son's pants.  I've come to call them pocket treasures.  Mostly they are discarded items.  Erasers. Beads.  Or natural items.  Sticks. Mulch. Rocks, plenty of rocks - crystals. Pebbles.

He's sentimental about things too - doesn't like me to throw things out.  I have to sneak the McDonald's Happy Meal box into the garbage half the time.  I am not allowed to throw out the directions to the Happy Meal toy... the list goes on.  And on.  We have stick collections by the shed, a rock collection by the recycle bin, and I have a box dedicated specfically for pocket treasures in the junk drawer.

Pocket treasures has expanded into back pack treasures - every evening I unload all the numerous pockets, why so many pockets?  But I unload them into the box or the appropriate collection.  Each day one or two more items get added.

My question is am I perpetuating this behavior? Should my clean out go directly into the trash?  But I don't.  I put these pocket treasures in their respective corners and just deal.

Maybe it goes like this - he started it but I finished it.  More like I continued it...maybe because I want to see where these pocket treasures will fit into the mosaic of his life.

JE 21 Response to Reality

The prompt for today over at NaBloPoMo - Between your mother and your father, who are you more alike?


I'd like to say neither but in reality it's both.  Leaving anything physical out of it - anything biological, I'd have to say Dad.  I get mad the way he does.  Though as a teen I butted heads most with my mom, maybe because we are similar, or because we're both strong personalities, but so is my dad.  (Much strife).

Dad and I like some of the same things - funniest is that we sit and watch Bachelor or Bachelorette (even Bachelor Pad!) together and comment about the contestants choosing our favorites and singling out the bad guys.  Mom walks through the living room and groans about what low lifes we are for watching such garbage, but we love it anyway, despite the groaning - and watch Dancing With The Stars because it is her show of choice even waking her up when her favorite, Derrick Hough, comes up.

I don't have my mother's height or my father's toes, but what I do have is a childhood that I am relearning about now as my son and I reside again in their house.

JE 20 All It Needs Is A Good Edit

My ass.

I went to class today with two copies of unromantic. in my 3-ring binder.  Armed and ready.  A little embarassed by what I had produced, how little time I had spent.  I read three others plays as they read mine, one girl and I have mutual admiration, by the end of class I wanted to ask for her phone number or something but felt dumb.  It would be nice to have a writing partner or a writing group not made up of dirty old men or aging ladies with dementia.  (No offense, none taken - which I am sure would NOT be the reply).

I left a copy with the professor, rode home in silence reworking the thing in my head.  What I came up with? That I needed to add more stage directions.  I am unsure if the second and fourth scenes work the way I need them too.  I am not sure if any of it works the way I need it too.

But since it is late I think instead of taking another look at the script, I will find something I feel like reading.

Been thinking that I need to read The Great Santini, though not tonight.

unromantic.

Cast of Characters
Him:
Her:

ACT I

Scene 1

He and she are on stage, comfortable, in mid
discussion. She is sitting down, legs resting up
on a table or desk, disinterested looking at her
nails, a magazine, the wall. He sits or leans
against a table at an angle from her - not a face
to face - so as not to be confrontational.

HER
You run into a lot of interesting teaching school.

HIM
Yeah. That why you quit?

HER
I quit because I felt like a sham.

HIM
Everyone feels like a sham - you’re the only one who
goes and quits because of it.

HER
One kid told a story so real reading it made me feel
like a carnie in Gibsonton in his paneled trailer
sharing a bathroom with his sister and the rest of his
family. It was disgusting. And it was
beautiful. Stark.

HIM
Sounds it.

HER
You don’t understand.

HIM
I guess I don’t. Make me understand.

HER
It’s not who I am. Not who I want to be.

HIM
Who do you want to be then? You were good. One of the
best.

HER
Ha. That’s laughable.

HIM
You don’t give yourself enough credit. You never
have. --Guess that’s why I like you.

HER
You like me ’cause I’m hot.

HIM
Yeah, there’s that.

HER
And funny.

HIM
Mmmhmm.

HER
Sexy as hell.

HIM
Goes without saying.

HER
Ha - but seriously. I’m lost.

HIM
You’re not lost.

HER
I’m broken.

HIM
You’re not broken.

HER
Well - I’m something.

HIM
You are certainly something.

HER
Thhaa. You’re no help.

Scene 2
Her, on the phone with someone else, not him. In
the kitchen on the wall phone sitting on the floor
in the doorway feet up on the doorjamb.

HER
I don’t know. It’s so much pressure. I don’t like
pressure. I don’t do pressure. You know that.

HER
I know, I know. I just don’t know if I can.

HER
Okay.

HER
I gotta go.

HER
I love you too.

Scene 3
Him and her, in the kitchen, talking more about
it. Him, probing and her, trying to avoid it
altogether.

HIM
You gotta give me something.

HER
But really I don’t. You can walk out of here today,
having gotten nothing from me, and still be
okay. Perfectly fine.

HIM
That’s arguably untrue.

HER
Is it?

HIM
Yes.

HER
I’m not sure that it is.

HIM
I’m not even sure I know what you are asking me to do.

HER
I don’t know if I know either. I used to know.

HIM
Look all this talk about nothing - it’s making me
frustrated.

HER
Maybe if you could see it my way, be on my side for
once...

HIM
Be on your side for once? I am always on your
side. You push me away and I am still on your side.

HER
Maybe if you could see me for me.

HIM
I can only see what you show me.

HER
You only see what you want to see.

HIM
What the hell are you talking about?

HER
See? Now you’re getting all pissed.

HIM
I am not getting pissed. I’m... okay I’m getting
pissed. But pissed doesn’t mean leaving. You keep
pushing but I’m not going.

HER
...yet.

HIM
What’s that shit? Haven’t I proven myself enough times?

HER
Maybe.

HIM
It should be yes.

HER
Maybe is easier.

HIM
Maybe is a cop out.

HER
Maybe counts.

Scene 4
She, on the front steps on the phone again.

HER
I guess we’re just too different.

HER
Yeah, but the problem is - he wants to fix it.

HER
I don’t know. I guess.

HER
All right. Bye.

HER
Yes. I love you too.

HER
Bye.

Scene 5
He and she are in their original locations
continuing their conversation. As the
conversation progresses he gets closer to her.

HER
I wasn’t expecting you to be all romantic and sweep me
off my feet or anything but I thought at least you’d be
sentimental.

HIM
I admit it, I went about it all wrong. My words got
all jumbled up and, well, I froze.

HER
It just makes me question what we’re in for.

HIM
Whatever we’re in for, we’ll do it together. It
doesn’t have to be you against the world.

HER
That’s what I’m good at.

HIM
I know.

HER
So you tell me I don’t need to be strong, that I don’t
need to go it alone. But what if I AM broken?

HIM
I told you, you are NOT broken.

HER
But what if I WANT to be broken?

HIM
Then I’ll be broken with you

HER
Hey babe.

HIM
Yeah?

HER
What do say we head down the courthouse and get that
thing taken care of?

HIM
Absolutely.

CURTAIN

JE 19 The Sandwich of Time

With every step forward we are closer to who we're striving to become,
farther from pain, from anger, from hurt. 

We are not where we were,
not yet where we think we ought to be. 

Today is what matters. 
Today is what counts. 
Without today there is no tomorrow. 
On top of yesterday, we put today. 
In the sandwich of time, in the very middle goes today.

Do yourself a favor don't rush today to get to tomorrow,
because soon enough tomorrow will have it's day to shine.

JE 18 Sick and Sicker

As I said, last Tuesday and Wednesday I had a fever, by the weekend I was coughing like crazy and surmounting Sunday with a red eye, stuffed ears, and a sore chest.  A Columbus Day trip to the walk-in clinic has me on antibiotics and frustrated that no matter what - I always seem to get the sickest.

Yes, I take vitamins.

I am tired of missing things because I don't feel well.

My next assignment?  To write a one act play.  Last night while Charlie was in the tub I started to write one - checking out my scriptfrenzy software, Celtix - love it!  And I actually managed to sit down and write a one act play in an evening - before and after Dancing with the Stars and Castle.  By 12:30 it was done.  It may be stupid.  But it is done.

The library doesn't open until 1:30 today (or was it one?) so I will have to wait until then to get my research going as I like to do, but at least I have a starting point.  It feels good to have a deadline on Wednesday and to have the thing done on Monday.

Maybe all I needed was a little bit of sick of being sickest.

JE 17 Between the Harbor and the School

National Blog Posting Month - NaBloPoMo
Here is the prompt for this months theme, between:
List two things (however close or far) that your current home is between.

My house is between the harbor and the school, the Island Queen and Friendly's, my Grandma's house and the BBC on Heights Beach.

The harbor where we keep the boat and the school where my son is now.
The Island Queen that sounds three swift toots every hour and a half and the red and white Friendly's building that may or may not have been shut down - another victim of chapter 11.
My Grandma's house where my mother was raised and my brother and I spent many vacation weeks and the bar on the beach that we hardly even noticed as children, but where my brother and I now spend some time sharing stories of those summers.

My house is between Florida and Canada, John and John, the Vineyard and Plymouth
Florida where I keep my house as something to go back to and Canada a country to which I have never been - not counting two hours in Victoria (with a migraine)
John who has two sons that play with Charlie when they occupy their summer house and John who comes and goes enjoying conversations with my son
The Vineyard where brass rings are gold and Plymouth where history in reality is underwhelming.