NaNoBlogMo Is Not An Alien Species

And NaNoWriMo is not his brother. What it is, uncannily, is something I've said a long, long time: That everybody has the potential for that ONE GREAT BOOK (ala Harper Lee). In November, Blogger is helping everyone (who wants to) participate in National Novel Writing Month.

I'm thinking I'm gonna do it! I'm not real sure, but I did register with nanowrimo.org. I haven't a clue as to what to write, so I haven't set up an alternate Novel Blog yet. I'm gonna have to think about it.

Scary!

Exciting!

I think I can do it - but I'm not sure!

I Could Just Cry

I've screwed with my template. I was merely trying to change the word "Links" to "Blogs". Now it's not coming in right, and I don't know what (the do-dah-day!) I've done wrong. That means I need to step back and calm down. Maybe play a game. My favorite is Bookworm. Yes, I am a nerd.

And now, accidentally, I hung up on a customer. I tried to call him back, but got a busy signal (gee, I wonder why?). My frustration level is rising. No, I haven't taken my pill in a while. I only have one left - and won't have the money to refill until Friday. And it doesn't even work that well!

You know, I know I am pretty darn blessed - great husband (so he's got a few health issues), great son, I still have a job (so far), I can pay my bills, I have a roof over my head. There are just some things I wish I had - self-confidence, self-esteem, if not happiness - contentment.

AARRGH!!

I finally met one of the candidates for Logan County Commissioner - District 2. I guess Kevin Leach, the Democrat expects to get by on his name alone. He certainly hasn't been visiting his constituency. How the hell am I supposed to know anything about him - other than my Husband either knows him or knows of him.

Now the other guy, Republican Mike Pearson, came to our hovel, talked to us, listened to us, you know, what a candidate is supposed to do. He was nice. His ideas, while esteemable, seem a little unworkable. Like he wants to pave the road our road tees off of - Midwest. People drive waaay too fast as it is! So, if it was paved, we'd have to rely on our invisible sheriff's department (I'd vote for the Republican there too, but he's unopposed).

I guess in the scheme of things, what we care about in our district is pretty minor - road drainage, fixing potholes instead of creating temporary speed bumps, getting ditches mowed so you can see what's coming, road graders who actually know what they're doing - and actually DO IT. Well, I can gripe about the City of Guthrie, but since I live outside of it, I can't do anything about it. I CAN do something about my county district.

I know Bubba (the Bassett - possibly Bassett/Beagle) can't ignore the call of nature. I am, in fact, really grateful that he does bark at me to walk him (even at 3:45am), instead of the alternative (which I'm still working on with Cooter the puppy).

It's cloudy and stuffy, the one lamp's light just casting an orange pall, rather than illumination. Bubba's on the bungee leash, Cooter on the cheapie chain leash. One wonders what will happen when Cooter gets older, and matches Bubba pound for pound, because they're usually going in opposite directions, with me in the middle. Right now, Cooter goes where Bubba goes.

We are planning to go our usual way - up the driveway to the road, down the road to the corner (where the light ends) and back. Bubba usually wants to do more, but that's why he's on a leash! So, when we got up to the road, it had never been there before, I guess it looked like a monster to Bubba - big, dark, threatening. He startes running, stretching the leash to the limits, barking his most threatening bark. And yes, that means me and Cooter are in tow. He was ready to attack whatever it was.

"Bubba, it's a trash can!" I'm yelling - being ignored. Yes, a trash can. the big, wheeled type used by cities, designed to be grabbed by a claw on the trash truck. The old guy on the corner must have just contracted with the waste company who handles Guthrie's trash pickup, it's the first time I've seen it.
"Rogue, SHUT UP!" Rogue is the black-and-tan Dachshund who barks because her head rattles, continues to bark after I've gotten Bubba to realize the trash can isn't going to attack. Although I do lift the lid a little and make growling sounds, but Bubba didn't bite on it. He peed on it a couple of times to show his conquest.

I drag the dogs home (almost literally), and fall back into bed. Two hours later, Bubba decides he needs to potty again. It's 6:00am.

**SIGH**

I'm a little sad today, but not as sad as yesterday. I still don't have a lot of self-confidence. I know that if I like my stories, that should be enough. But it's not. I always wanted to be like Harper Lee. I wanted to have that one great book. I'm frustrated. I don't think I'm good enough. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but it does.

In other news - I was really impressed with the Hubby's bathroom work. Yes, the floor is kind of a hodge-podge of not-nailed-down plywood, but there aren't any holes for animals to get in (cats) or out (Bubba the Bassett). And yes, the toilet is still flushing slow, but that's my fault - I accidently flushed a small comb. I did purchase a much better plunger, it doesn't collapse.

My son's Fall Break started yesterday. He and the Hubby went to Edmond and bought some video games and stuff. They may not say so, but they really do like doing things together.

And This Is A Surprise?

I found this article on Yahoo News, stating cost more than stigma, keeps people from getting the help they (I) need for their depression. Like, right now, I'm on Zoloft because it's on the formulary when Lexapro works better on me. Oh, and let's just forget about seeing a counselor! The copay may be $20 or $30 dollars, but, geez, $20-30 a week for how long? !

I just can't afford it.

I'm achy and tired and whatever creativity I claim to have just isn't available right now.

On the upside, the Hubby says he has fixed the toilet and the gaping hole in the bathroom. He says the dogs can no longer use it as an escape route, but the cats may still be able to.

Told the Hubby not to overdo it, he really doesn't bend that way anymore. He said he probably already did, but was about to knock off.

happy days.

Home Improvement?

Back to work after my four day weekend. And I have discovered that my job is not the worst thing I could do. Of course, I basically knew that. My job is just mind-numbing.
The worst things? The things I never want to have to do again? Well, they involve plumbing - and having to crawl under the house.

You know I call my neighborhood Meth Lab Estates, a little mobile home community outside of Guthrie. I live on almost 2 acres, wooded, a dry creek in the back. I live in a 14' x 80' single-wide mobile home - 3 bed, 2 bath. My husband had decided that it had been in a flood, as the floors are rotting. I've kind of decided the flood may have been man-made - the floors rotting away in the kitchen by the sink (the counter of which is also rotted away), by the washing machine, in the two bathrooms, and by the front door.

Yesterday we (meaning my husband), decided to reseat the toilet in the kid's bathroom and put new plywood on the floor. Piece of cake, right?! Wrong! Got everything done - was reconnecting the water line (which for some bizarre reason doesn't have a turnoff knob-thing), and the line leaked - bad. Tried putting a new o-ring in the connector - didn't work. And all the while, because the person we purchased the land from did such a slap-dash job, to turn off our water, you turn off our next door neighbor's (who was, luckily, out) as well. I ran to Lowe's to get parts - but got there after they had closed. In the mean time, the Hubby had found some parts from a previous plumbing adventure, and bypassed the toilet.

Yes, the toilet is connected to the sewer pipe (another hideous job I hope I never have to do again), but since there is no water to the toilet - you have to have a bucket of water handy. Oh and there is an even bigger, gaping hole still in the floor (which Bubba, the basset hound, loves - it being his escape route of choice), since we didn't get finished.

Bubba escaped twice during our home-nonimprovement frenzy. The first time, I slipped on gravel in our dirt driveway, running to get him and fell down forward (today, my knees are killing me). The second time, I was quite harsh to poor Bubba, and he decided to sleep instead of escaping.

I cannot help my husband as much as I would like to. I can't lift as much as he can, or tighten nuts as tightly as he can. And since he had to put himself into, what is for him, unnatural positions - he's in quite a bit of pain and unwilling to finish just yet. I don't blame him. He pushes himself way too hard anyway.

God, I want a new house. I just can't afford one.

Happy Birthday

To Jimmy!!

18!!!

And to sports fans - born on the day the Mets won the Pennant!

There IS a God!

...and he doesn't always ignore me!

I've posted previously how I was bummed my son was going to his Dad's for his 18th birthday, Friday.

Well, yesterday, when I got home from work, I learned Jimmy was scheduled to work, well, his normal shift, Thursday through Monday. Evidently his Dad threw an unholy fit when he found out. I asked Jimmy, when he starts on Saturday, at 3pm, so I said I'd like him to come to my party (at Shorty Small's in Edmond), if his Dad didn't didn't mind. He said he'd get his Dad to come up on Sunday instead. Yeah, he'll only be able to be there like an hour, but I'll take it!

I am SOOO DAMN HAPPY!!!

This is the best birthday ever!

Happy Birthday!

To me!!!

Happy Birthday

To my late, great Father-in-Law - John William!! Sorry not sure what age he would be. But he's a great man and he is missed.

Crappy

It's how I feel.

It's how my weekend was.

I better quit. If I keep on writing, I'll just spew self-hatred.



Yes, I did take my pill - today.

Happy Birthday!

To Mama!

She may not be here, but it's still her birthday! She would've been 80!!

For God's sake, don't smoke!

He knew he shouldn't be here. Maybe... Maybe he was dangerous. He needed to go away - far away, to figure out who, or what, he had become.
But here he still was, as if looking into a window on the past. Some questions had been answered, replaced with others. Why was still there, and it cut right to the bone.
Then he noticed her, a little speck in the distance, sitting on the dock looking into the dark water moving beneath her. She shouldn't be there. She wasn't allowed in the daytime, much less now. He could vaguely hear her mother calling for her. She should be able to hear, why was she ignoring her mother?

"What are you doing, sweetie?" You would think you could hear his heart break. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"I wanted to see you, Daddy. Mommy said you were gone. That I wasn't going to see you any more."

"I have to go away, sweetie. I'm not...I don't..."

"Then take me with you!"

"Oh, honey, you know I can't do that," his voice breaks, "Daddy has changed and nobody can know. I have to go now. You run back to the house, your mother's frantic. Just know I will always, always love you! You will always be my little girl! Now go home! Go on!"

He watches the girl run back to the house, the frantic cries for the girl turning into anger. He swims away.

Of All the Charlie Browns in the World...

I am the Charlie Browniest!

Really insecure!

Kinda sad - and crampy.

I really need to stop comparing myself to others. It doesn't go well.

I don't know, I guess I should have just left it in my head.

I'm not special. I'm not going to amount to anything more than I am right now.

**SIGH**

For You, Jon

I have four stories that rotate in my head. All with beginnings and middles, but no clear end. Two have more backgroud, because they're older. And they're all different catagories (in no particular order):

• 1 is fantasyish, actually yet another variation of Aladdin's Lamp. A boy, early teens, buys a knickknack (not sure what - lamps have been done to death) in an antique store for his mom (she's divorced from his dad, and while she tries to make sure he has a good relationship with his father, who treats fatherhood as more of a hobby, talking is difficult and they usually end up in an argument). The genie (or is it djin?), was a man in his early thirties, a little arrogant, a lot vain, who was to sell his horses to (important guy [emir, vizeer - I don't know]). He has an affair with important guy's daughter. Long story short, family is murdered, horses taken, and he cursed to be a genie (djin?) looking like a boy, early teens, fair skin, blue eyes. But, I've been thinking, it may have been set up, though the genie doesn't know that, and of course, blames himself. When the boy releases the genie, he's freaked out, overjoyed, is thinking of millions of things he wants, but remembers the story of The Monkeys Paw. So he's not sure he can safely wish for anything, other than for the genie to speak english.

And that's the beginning of that one.

I AM SOOO BORED!!

I'm bored, and I may have forgotten to take my anti-depressant.

I've been doing schedule changes. Those are the changes airlines make to already booked resvervations: time changes, flight number changes, connection changes, etc. They get put into a schedule change queue. To work them, you make sure the connections are valid, inform the passenger, and send them a new itinerary.

Three words:

MIND NUMBINGLY BORING!

Now I've been taken out of schedule changes and put back into Customer Service. It's another one of those I-wish-I-was-still-at-Hertz days. No, I don't feel completely culpable for losing my Hertz job, they knew I was depressed, they could have worked with me. I didn't care about money - I just wanted the time off. But I wasn't nervy enough to fight for my job. Maybe I wasn't that recovered. And maybe I didn't really want to go back. Hertz is the best, where ever in the world you're wanting to rent, but they treat their employees like crap.

And, yeah Jon, I know I'm repeating myself. What can I say, my life is boring. I want more, but I can't tell you what I want.

My Weekend

I took a vacation day Friday. The Hubby and I went out to eat (a big deal if you don't do it often) at Marie Callender's. Kind of a trek for us, since we live in Guthrie and Marie Callender's is in Norman (what, like 60 miles?). Good stuff, and brought a sugar-free Razzleberry pie back for the M-in-L.

Also on Friday, the Hubby's son's friend and his wife had their baby, Isabella Michelle. Poor girl (yes, I can call her a girl, she's only 21 or 22) was in labor for, like, two days, got fully dilated, then still had to have a caesarean. Didn't really follow why, something about the baby not turned right (give me something I understand, like meconium aspriation). Baby is beautiful, 6lbs 10oz, healthy (thank God, since the mother smokes - ick). DID NOT HOLD THE BABY. That would have been a dangerous thing to do.

**SIGH**

I wanted to have more children.

Enough dwelling on things that aren't going to happen.

Had been wondering why my son had been so moody lately.

1. He has not been taking his anti-depressant.
2. He had a secret.

We learned what that was Saturday, but not from him. Received from his dad an itinerary, booked on September 21st. Jimmy's flying down to his Dad's on his birthday (Oct. 15th) for the weekend. Now, I'm not going to begrudge him the weekend, but they always do the exact same thing: eating out, going to a movie. It's been the same since the divorce was final in March of '90 (which has always annoyed the piss out of me, but what can I say?). Now Jimmy's work schedule is usually from Thursday through Monday, sometimes Thursday through Sunday and Tuesday. The Hubby was furious, and I was disappointed (I was wanting to have the Tri-Birthday party). Jimmy was acting better this morning (about the only time I ever see him anymore). Since personality-wise, he's like me, I can only go on conjecture. I think he feels better with the weight off his shoulders. He knew we'd be upset. I know I tend to make mountains out of molehills, so when whatever I'm stressing over is over, it's actually a relief.

I may still have a party that weekend, but I don't know. I don't want to have it at my hovel, excuse me, my house. I'd rather have it at my Mother-in-laws, but I don't think she would like that. I would want Randy (the Hubby) to cook (ribs, chicken, maybe turkey legs). Smoked potatoes would be good, too.

Oh, and Jimmy did remember to go get his yearbook picture taken on Friday afternoon, which I had actually forgotten.

The rest of the weekend was pretty unremarkable. I did get caught up on my weekday tv, tape for me. We had to get a new VCR, the old one (not that old) started to eat tapes. Maybe now I'll get to see CSI-Miami.

My life is so interesting.