Full of steak and corn
Nice PM from Dan Telfer
He is right. Don't fight
Good thing. I think I've fought enough with my ex to never ever want to fight again. Usually I duck and hide. I have a mean right jab though. Sorry, I know. I even annoy myself.
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I'm a writer with no place to write. Not brave enough or knowledgeable enough to go sell my stuff anywhere. Don't necessarily know if anyone would want to buy it anyway.
I do write some really dirty poetry. Most of which will not be posted as it's really boring to read about smut all the time.
I don't know what would happen if I didn't have my job and concentrated on writing full time. I actually have an English Writing degree. Not literature, but writing specific. Great program at Saint Edwards in Austin. If you haven't noticed (I'm sure you have) I'm lazy in my grammar. Only B I got in my major. (um, yeah, all the rest A's... I'm a nerdbag). But a writer nonetheless. Ergo, I love all the creative types here.
I know I'm online way too much. At work. Even on a busiest of busy days like today (I sent out 4 copies of a 700 page document to the EPA), I found time to read about 12 journals and put in my lame two cents into some strange threads. Granted, I worked until nearly 8:35pm. I'm a multi-tasker. Most of the time I'm a great editor and am really organized. A Slacker, but can still fake it enough to fucking crank out the work.
At home. I get my Zoe. Take her home. We cook together. She likes to stir and pour. She's starved, so I cook and distract her by kitchen dancing. We blast some Texasy music or some Zydeco and dance in my tiny kitchen. (picture me holding her, ballroom dance style while she hangs on me like a monkey) Step, twist, turn, dip. We eat and then bathtime. We read about 4 books (yeah, I Mommy read using different voices), then she wants to lay on my arm. Sometimes she stalls, tosses and turns, but other times like tonight she's out in about five minutes.
Then, it's mommy time. When Dr. E is in town, he calls, sometimes comes over and we have fun.
When Dr. E is gone, I turn on my computer. (It's a laptop, so I'm in bed right now. You're in bed with me. OMG, I'm swinging!!!) Obviously he's been gone quite a bit because I find myself on nearly night. Like I was before I met him. Just this time, I'm doing more reading than chatting. I guess I had my fill of getting hit on by married men and pervs all night.
[aside, but not aside... this entire thread is an aside]
Dr. E is on his way to NY. I finally reached him. Let's say it together: Yes, I suck! He had a horrible week last week. Went into a bit of detail, but basically got fed up and ran. He left Sunday. Then four hours before I talked to him, well, he decided to go to Egypt for a while. Said he'd be back in June. I guess I better get used to the separation. It was awesome when he was here, but he's gone for the next three years regardless. Like I said. Someone is trying to tell me something.
[back]
I don't know why I didn't pursue writing. I'm an excellent technical writer. I give great research. I'm sometimes and sometimes not creative. And I used to write pretty decent magazine articles. I never took journalism though. It seemed like too much stress. I can't handle reality. Obviously, because I suck at it.
I guess it's the same as my painting. I am pretty creative there too. But if I had to do it for a living, I'm not sure if I could live. Zoe's playroom is full of my acrylics. It's crazy and bright. Our bedroom is girly and pasteled.
My mom is a much better painter, but she has been a homemaker for 37 years now. I'm a good painter, but I'd much rather be a homemaker. I know for a fact, this will not happen unless I win the lottery. Considering I actually met a Texas lottery winner at my retreat, I think my odds of throwing a penny from the top of the Empire State building into a cup on the street in front of it are better than me winning any big money.
(that chick was the coolest chick there. I'm glad she won the money, but it sucks because I'd like to be her friend as she was hella cool, but now, I'm sure she'd be too suspicious of my intentions. It happens)
So the long and the short of it, this is where it ends. This is the dump for all of my creativity, the stories stuck in my head, the memories of my child, my family, of my husband, and the wandering thread that is my life.
Just like me... well, sometimes it sucks!