… and 275 pages came out of my printer last night. Well actually 277, including the front cover and the… ‘other’ bit. No actually, it was definitely more, because when the ink started running out I had to cancel the print job, so I had a couple of scratchy looking pages that I had to re-print…
So let’s just say 280+.
It took a while let me tell you. I don’t have the newest printer, but those pages were coming out fast, and I was trying to make sure they dried (very slightly) whilst keeping them in order, which kept me constantly checking page after page. In total it took up 45 minutes of my time.
Stapling all the chapters together was like ‘wow.’ First seeing my work, my words on actual paper… it was weird. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different. I this weird sense of ‘this is it?’
When I finally handed the bundled papers to Hubbie, I was feeling ecstatic, nervous, happy and very emotional. Emotional evident from the fact that after I gave it to him I burst out into tears, turning into a crying, sobbing mess.
Even handing it over… it was so odd. I’ve been wanting to do it for so long, to finish the story and have someone I love tell me what they think. But I had this sense of not wanting to give it. Whether because it’s been MY story for so long, and now it becomes someone else’s… whether it’s because I feel it’s a part of me, and it’s like I’m giving away a part of myself… or maybe because I’m just bloody nervous about the critiques I’ll get.
I think it’s a combination of all these things.
Hubbie did lighten the mood though. When I gave it to him he was like “What? It’s ALL this? This is one book?”
LOLOL. I’m chuckling to myself now just remembering his reaction.
He thought all the different stapled parts which I’d sectioned to create the chapters was actually ONE COPY EACH, and that I’d made several copies to give to family and friends.
“No, this is one book. You think I’ve been working for over a year on just this?” I flipped through the pages of one chapter, roughly 20 pages worth.
“Far. It’s massive.”
“You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to…” (as all good wives do I set the test, the challenge…)
“I want to.” (and he passed with flying colours).
I’m going to make a document where there is slightly smaller font though, because it ended up looking bigger than I expected on page. And there were so many bloody pages! I’ll use this doc to print further copies for my sister, Red, my Mum if she wants to read it…
I need to get me some more paper and ink.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
Happiness Is…. #10
Happiness is….
Finishing my book! Need I say more? Oh yes, yes, yes, I’ve finished!
:-D :-D :-D
No one has read it yet, but even so I just need to stew in this moment of completion. Please let me sit here in happiness. It feels so good…
(fist pump!)
I actually did it!
Finishing my book! Need I say more? Oh yes, yes, yes, I’ve finished!
:-D :-D :-D
No one has read it yet, but even so I just need to stew in this moment of completion. Please let me sit here in happiness. It feels so good…
(fist pump!)
I actually did it!
I'm the missing Pointer sister…
Too right I am. I’m not sure if I’m the 3rd, or 4th, or even the 5th member (I believe they have had a number of various sisters part of their group at various times), but for popularities sake, let’s go with when they were at their peak. That would make me the 4th member then.
And I’m so excited.
It’s Monday, and I have a couple of hours ‘til I finish work. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to pack my bags here, I can’t wait to make the 15 minute walk to the car park. I can’t wait to drive home, singing and smiling to myself in the car. I can’t wait to prepare dinner, then eat it, and share catch-up conversation with Hubbie on his day today.
I can’t wait to give him a big huh, and a great big passionate kiss. I can’t wait for all of those things.
But one thing I can’t wait for most: I can’t wait to start print on my official finished copy of my book.
:-D :-D :-D
Last night I made the last minor additions. There are some things I had to very briefly research today, but it was so quick, that I don’t really have to add anything to the story, I just need to check one thing, and then press the P button.
:-D :-D :-D
I am soooo excited. I’m giddy, nervous, jumpy and happy. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, the moment when I can say to myself “I’ve done the best I can” and hand over a copy of it to someone I love to be critiqued. That thought makes me sick, as it does happy. I’m ready for it, and I can’t believe the day has come, 1 year and 4 months after starting the book, almost 2 years since having the idea of actually writing a book pop into my mind.
It’s such an arduous, mentally-draining process, and I loved it all. It was inspiring, it was thrilling, and I was amazed at how at times the book seemed to write itself. It was a magical, suspenseful, invigorating experience, and I can’t wait to start it all again.
This is only the beginning.
The thought of handing over my work, my pain, my toil, my passion…
I think I might just start crying tonight from happiness…
:-D
And I’m so excited.
It’s Monday, and I have a couple of hours ‘til I finish work. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to pack my bags here, I can’t wait to make the 15 minute walk to the car park. I can’t wait to drive home, singing and smiling to myself in the car. I can’t wait to prepare dinner, then eat it, and share catch-up conversation with Hubbie on his day today.
I can’t wait to give him a big huh, and a great big passionate kiss. I can’t wait for all of those things.
But one thing I can’t wait for most: I can’t wait to start print on my official finished copy of my book.
:-D :-D :-D
Last night I made the last minor additions. There are some things I had to very briefly research today, but it was so quick, that I don’t really have to add anything to the story, I just need to check one thing, and then press the P button.
:-D :-D :-D
I am soooo excited. I’m giddy, nervous, jumpy and happy. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, the moment when I can say to myself “I’ve done the best I can” and hand over a copy of it to someone I love to be critiqued. That thought makes me sick, as it does happy. I’m ready for it, and I can’t believe the day has come, 1 year and 4 months after starting the book, almost 2 years since having the idea of actually writing a book pop into my mind.
It’s such an arduous, mentally-draining process, and I loved it all. It was inspiring, it was thrilling, and I was amazed at how at times the book seemed to write itself. It was a magical, suspenseful, invigorating experience, and I can’t wait to start it all again.
This is only the beginning.
The thought of handing over my work, my pain, my toil, my passion…
I think I might just start crying tonight from happiness…
:-D
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
My continual – no, my CONTINUOUS obsession with the man formerly known as Zack Morris
In writing my story, I’ve been very obsessed over the correct use of words of late, (of course, I AM a writer): using the correct tense, grammar… I do want it to be perfect when I send it to publishers. And one of my recent obsessions was over the use of the terms continual and continuous.
Continual suggests something ongoing with interruptions over a long period of time, whereas continuous means a long duration without interruption.
Now that I’ve given you my prologue, back to my main point. I don’t know if I’ve written about this before in my 140 + posts; as you can imagine it’s hard to keep track when you get to that number.
I don’t even know exactly how many posts I’ve done – just guessing from my work email over here (:))
But about a half hour ago I finished watching a TV movie, called The Princess and the Marine. And I was very pleasantly surprised to find Mark Paul Gosselaar, and his name, come up first in the opening credits.
My fascination and love for Zack (sigh) began in a galaxy, far, far away… hold on wrong story. My fascination with Zack began, let’s count… shit about 20 years ago. Does that show my age? No, I believe it was 18 years ago.
Running home from school and eating in front of the TV was an everyday ritual for me, and when I discovered a new after-school show at 4pm, called Saved by the Bell, I was well and truly SOLD. I loved it. I loved the characters, the storylines. I loved the friendships, the sometimes serious, yet eventually light-hearted way they solved their problems. I thought Jessie was funny. I thought it’d be great to have a wardrobe like Lisa’s. I thought A.C Slater was cute. I thought Screech was goofy and weird. I wanted to BE Kelly Kapowski – so gorgeous, friendly and loved by everyone. And I wanted to be with Zack Morris.
Sorry, again. I wanted to BE with Zack Morris.
Sigh. I’m getting all giddy just thinking about it.
And so started my fascination. It wasn’t just a cute, dote-on-him crush thing: it was something FAR more than that.
Up until that point I had liked a couple of guys at school (yes I started young) – not that anything actually happened. But I did notice the opposite sex IN THAT WAY, when I was the ripe young age of 5. So by about 10, when I started to obsess over SBTB (that’s how us old-school 80s kids speak, you know?) I wasn’t new to the whole crush thing. Even so, Zack Morris became, from that moment on, my staple, my benchmark, say it my dream, of THE perfect guy.
I swear. It wasn’t a really conscious thing, but I found myself being drawn to those kinds of characters in my life, for years to come. And I still am. Whether they were in the media (like Pacey from Dawson’s, I LOVE Pacey from Dawson’s) or guys from school, and eventually, ahem, like my HUSBAND (!) Zack Morris’ character made a huge impact on what I wanted in a mate.
Maybe it was the cheeky humour. The outrageous confidence. The prankster qualities that always got him into trouble. His boyish good looks (well that definitely helped, thank you Mark ). Maybe it was how he was a ladies man – we all know as women that we love a challenge, we want to tame that wild boy. Or maybe it was his undying loyalty to his one and only first love, Kelly.
***SPOILER ALERT!***
If you haven’t seen the very end of SBTB, and by end I mean AFTER they go off to Uni, you would be pleased to know that Zack and Kelly did FINALLY get married in a special TV movie. YAY! :-D
All is good in the world.
***SPOILER ALERT OVER – COMMENCE READING***
Over the years, as SBTB dropped off the screens, I fell into infatuation with other boys, both on-screen and in real life. I guess I kind of forgot about Zack as other guys just took centre stage.
For example, two men I have repeatedly (other than my hubbie) spoken about here is David Boreanaz, and then more recently Bryan Greenberg. Well they are just hot aren’t they. You can’t deny it. David is older now, yes, which means Bryan has taken centre stage in the number 1 spot, clearly going by the looks category. And over the years that I’ve seen MPG in TV movies and other series, I’ve thought to myself “eh, you looked better.”
Beat me up, I know. I’m being a bit cruel. But he was just so cute and adorable. And then he turned into a man. And sometimes the man, doesn’t live up to the boy. I still appreciated him, and I completely recognised that he was just older. Hey, we’re all gonna get older, so will I, and although I hope like hell I’m hot at 40, I’m sure I still won’t look the way I did when I was 16.
BUT!
But. The TV movie I just saw, the princess marine one? (Well he’s not a princess marine but you know what I mean)
I started off like “right, yep, Mark is pretty good looking here, yep.”
The movie was shot in 2001, so a while ago. Still, he looked good.
And then I let myself start watching it and get sucked in.
I swear, Mark was BORN for these kinds of roles. Maybe it’s because he is really like that. And if he is there is a serious problem here… it means he’s even more perfect than I previously thought. He’s a marine in the movie, on duty in Bahrain, a Muslim country, when he falls in love with a Muslim girl there, and she for him. But she’s not just a girl, you see, she’s a princess.
And there’s the catch:)
It was a great movie. Watching Mark (Jason Johnson) jump hurdles and get into all kinds of illegal behaviour just so he and his future bride could escape to the U.S (yes bride, he proposed in a shopping centre – it was actually very sweet and romantic!) made me tingle in nice ways all over. That devoted, loyal, loving “I’ll do anything for you” look in his eyes was there, and I found myself going back to that 10 year old girl I used to know… and I melted. And as I watched, he grew more, and more, and MORE attractive.
Sigh.
This movie was actually based on a true story. This story did happen in real life – unfortunately, the real life princess and the marine ended up divorcing in 2004, I think. (I almost wish I didn’t find that on IMDB – it’s slightly ruining my Mark-story images right now).
But I just couldn’t help thinking. I couldn’t help getting excited over Zack Morris all over again.
It made me realise. My love for him never stopped; it was never interrupted. It was always there in the background, waiting to be re-discovered, again and again, like an old friend you haven’t seen in years, or the house you grew up in, where you hold all your life-changing and cherished memories. It’ll always go back to Zack. No matter what his age, or whether he’s doing movies or not, it’ll always be him. Because it started with him, and it’s because of him, that I fell in love with the hilarious, gorgeous, friendly, very silly, and completely loyal and dedicated (and very cheeky) man that is my husband.
So for that Zack, I thank you. You are the constant in my life. YOU are continuous…
Continual suggests something ongoing with interruptions over a long period of time, whereas continuous means a long duration without interruption.
Now that I’ve given you my prologue, back to my main point. I don’t know if I’ve written about this before in my 140 + posts; as you can imagine it’s hard to keep track when you get to that number.
I don’t even know exactly how many posts I’ve done – just guessing from my work email over here (:))
But about a half hour ago I finished watching a TV movie, called The Princess and the Marine. And I was very pleasantly surprised to find Mark Paul Gosselaar, and his name, come up first in the opening credits.
My fascination and love for Zack (sigh) began in a galaxy, far, far away… hold on wrong story. My fascination with Zack began, let’s count… shit about 20 years ago. Does that show my age? No, I believe it was 18 years ago.
Running home from school and eating in front of the TV was an everyday ritual for me, and when I discovered a new after-school show at 4pm, called Saved by the Bell, I was well and truly SOLD. I loved it. I loved the characters, the storylines. I loved the friendships, the sometimes serious, yet eventually light-hearted way they solved their problems. I thought Jessie was funny. I thought it’d be great to have a wardrobe like Lisa’s. I thought A.C Slater was cute. I thought Screech was goofy and weird. I wanted to BE Kelly Kapowski – so gorgeous, friendly and loved by everyone. And I wanted to be with Zack Morris.
Sorry, again. I wanted to BE with Zack Morris.
Sigh. I’m getting all giddy just thinking about it.
And so started my fascination. It wasn’t just a cute, dote-on-him crush thing: it was something FAR more than that.
Up until that point I had liked a couple of guys at school (yes I started young) – not that anything actually happened. But I did notice the opposite sex IN THAT WAY, when I was the ripe young age of 5. So by about 10, when I started to obsess over SBTB (that’s how us old-school 80s kids speak, you know?) I wasn’t new to the whole crush thing. Even so, Zack Morris became, from that moment on, my staple, my benchmark, say it my dream, of THE perfect guy.
I swear. It wasn’t a really conscious thing, but I found myself being drawn to those kinds of characters in my life, for years to come. And I still am. Whether they were in the media (like Pacey from Dawson’s, I LOVE Pacey from Dawson’s) or guys from school, and eventually, ahem, like my HUSBAND (!) Zack Morris’ character made a huge impact on what I wanted in a mate.
Maybe it was the cheeky humour. The outrageous confidence. The prankster qualities that always got him into trouble. His boyish good looks (well that definitely helped, thank you Mark ). Maybe it was how he was a ladies man – we all know as women that we love a challenge, we want to tame that wild boy. Or maybe it was his undying loyalty to his one and only first love, Kelly.
***SPOILER ALERT!***
If you haven’t seen the very end of SBTB, and by end I mean AFTER they go off to Uni, you would be pleased to know that Zack and Kelly did FINALLY get married in a special TV movie. YAY! :-D
All is good in the world.
***SPOILER ALERT OVER – COMMENCE READING***
Over the years, as SBTB dropped off the screens, I fell into infatuation with other boys, both on-screen and in real life. I guess I kind of forgot about Zack as other guys just took centre stage.
For example, two men I have repeatedly (other than my hubbie) spoken about here is David Boreanaz, and then more recently Bryan Greenberg. Well they are just hot aren’t they. You can’t deny it. David is older now, yes, which means Bryan has taken centre stage in the number 1 spot, clearly going by the looks category. And over the years that I’ve seen MPG in TV movies and other series, I’ve thought to myself “eh, you looked better.”
Beat me up, I know. I’m being a bit cruel. But he was just so cute and adorable. And then he turned into a man. And sometimes the man, doesn’t live up to the boy. I still appreciated him, and I completely recognised that he was just older. Hey, we’re all gonna get older, so will I, and although I hope like hell I’m hot at 40, I’m sure I still won’t look the way I did when I was 16.
BUT!
But. The TV movie I just saw, the princess marine one? (Well he’s not a princess marine but you know what I mean)
I started off like “right, yep, Mark is pretty good looking here, yep.”
The movie was shot in 2001, so a while ago. Still, he looked good.
And then I let myself start watching it and get sucked in.
I swear, Mark was BORN for these kinds of roles. Maybe it’s because he is really like that. And if he is there is a serious problem here… it means he’s even more perfect than I previously thought. He’s a marine in the movie, on duty in Bahrain, a Muslim country, when he falls in love with a Muslim girl there, and she for him. But she’s not just a girl, you see, she’s a princess.
And there’s the catch:)
It was a great movie. Watching Mark (Jason Johnson) jump hurdles and get into all kinds of illegal behaviour just so he and his future bride could escape to the U.S (yes bride, he proposed in a shopping centre – it was actually very sweet and romantic!) made me tingle in nice ways all over. That devoted, loyal, loving “I’ll do anything for you” look in his eyes was there, and I found myself going back to that 10 year old girl I used to know… and I melted. And as I watched, he grew more, and more, and MORE attractive.
Sigh.
This movie was actually based on a true story. This story did happen in real life – unfortunately, the real life princess and the marine ended up divorcing in 2004, I think. (I almost wish I didn’t find that on IMDB – it’s slightly ruining my Mark-story images right now).
But I just couldn’t help thinking. I couldn’t help getting excited over Zack Morris all over again.
It made me realise. My love for him never stopped; it was never interrupted. It was always there in the background, waiting to be re-discovered, again and again, like an old friend you haven’t seen in years, or the house you grew up in, where you hold all your life-changing and cherished memories. It’ll always go back to Zack. No matter what his age, or whether he’s doing movies or not, it’ll always be him. Because it started with him, and it’s because of him, that I fell in love with the hilarious, gorgeous, friendly, very silly, and completely loyal and dedicated (and very cheeky) man that is my husband.
So for that Zack, I thank you. You are the constant in my life. YOU are continuous…
Friday, June 15, 2012
Which direction? Every, it appears…
So you know how a while ago I admitted to my embarrassing old man-crush on James Garner? A.K.A the very cool Jim Rockford from The Rockford Files? Well, even more embarrassingly so it seems, I’ve now swung to the other, cradle-snatching side of the pendulum, focusing my swoony eyes upon… One Direction.
Ouch. So hard to admit.
I find the whole fascination with them utterly hilarious. I’ve made fun of the fans in a very tongue-in-cheek way, of course not forgetting that I too, once upon a time, was a full-fledged teeny-bopper, bouncing along to Hanson… then 5ive… then N*Sync.
Yep. I can’t talk.
So I remember how it’s like. The adolescent fantasies, believing that one day, somehow, we would be together (first it was Taylor, then Scott, then Justin… Justin I still love though ) and the obsessive maniac-ness of it all. Posters, CDs, books scrawled with their names, the aggressive defending of anyone even thinking to bag them or their musical-genius talents. Oh yes, I remember. After a big argument we had, my Mum threatened that she would rip off all my Hanson posters when I was at school.
That was quite possibly the worst day EVER of my 14 year life.
Because I’m familiar with those feelings, I will try be sensitive to 1D-ers. But you must admit, they are HILARIOUS. And I was never that annoying too.
Despite my whole rolling-of-the-eyes façade when I see a posse of little girls run around with their ipods blasting “everyone else in the room can see me, everyone else but youuuuuu…” screaming like cats on heat and professing their undying love and devotion to them, even though they will undoubtedly, DEFINITELY, get over them in a year (look at the above list, IT WILL HAPPEN), I too found myself enjoying them a bit too much yesterday.
You know those fillers they place around movies and stuff during daytime TV? Well I saw one yesterday where No Direction performed in the street set-up on the Today show. They sung 3 songs, the first one was the “that’s what makes you beautiful,” the second was my favourite, the “get up, get up, get out of my head! And fall into my arms instead, I don’t I don’t don’t know what it is, but you’ve got that one thing.”
Oh dear. I know the whole chorus. You sing it and try get it out of your head, I dare you.
Then they sang one more song, I don’t think it’s been released (like I should know, big fan I am! LOL) but it was something like “when he lays me down, it just kills me inside…” I was like WTF? You guys are singing about sex? Do your fans even get wet yet?
Sorry. I know that was inappropriate. I tone my blog down because I can be very rude at times, but I just had to say it. Like seriously people. Are they really watching girls they like getting bonked by other guys? At like 15 or whatever their age is?
Anyway, I can’t talk, because in amongst observing all this teen-drama, I realised that Harry is very cute.
Yes Harry. I’m a Harry-girl.
(I’ll just wait for the 1D death threats and angry mails to start flooding – in “he’s mine!” and “I’ll kill you bitch!” They’re little girls though, so I doubt they use foul language yet, few years to go ‘til they hit 12. :p)
He looks very dreamy and has a really sexy voice, it’s very deep for his young, young years. I did previously think that the black-haired guy was cute, the one who reminds me of AJ from Backstreet Boys. But I think I’ve changed, there’s just something very solemn and perplexing about his gaze, especially when he sang the above ‘guy-laying-you-down-I-die’ bit and held his heart. It was like he was actually HURTING.
LOL. I’m having too much fun now.
But if I was a teenybopper now, I would create outrageous fantasies, with Harry, and black-haired AJ look-a-like fighting over me, and then the other dude, no idea what his name is but the girls went nuts when he sang his part, well he would step in and say “hey, move over guys, she’s mine…”
No! Stop it! It’s wrong, so so wrong.
:)
Ouch. So hard to admit.
I find the whole fascination with them utterly hilarious. I’ve made fun of the fans in a very tongue-in-cheek way, of course not forgetting that I too, once upon a time, was a full-fledged teeny-bopper, bouncing along to Hanson… then 5ive… then N*Sync.
Yep. I can’t talk.
So I remember how it’s like. The adolescent fantasies, believing that one day, somehow, we would be together (first it was Taylor, then Scott, then Justin… Justin I still love though ) and the obsessive maniac-ness of it all. Posters, CDs, books scrawled with their names, the aggressive defending of anyone even thinking to bag them or their musical-genius talents. Oh yes, I remember. After a big argument we had, my Mum threatened that she would rip off all my Hanson posters when I was at school.
That was quite possibly the worst day EVER of my 14 year life.
Because I’m familiar with those feelings, I will try be sensitive to 1D-ers. But you must admit, they are HILARIOUS. And I was never that annoying too.
Despite my whole rolling-of-the-eyes façade when I see a posse of little girls run around with their ipods blasting “everyone else in the room can see me, everyone else but youuuuuu…” screaming like cats on heat and professing their undying love and devotion to them, even though they will undoubtedly, DEFINITELY, get over them in a year (look at the above list, IT WILL HAPPEN), I too found myself enjoying them a bit too much yesterday.
You know those fillers they place around movies and stuff during daytime TV? Well I saw one yesterday where No Direction performed in the street set-up on the Today show. They sung 3 songs, the first one was the “that’s what makes you beautiful,” the second was my favourite, the “get up, get up, get out of my head! And fall into my arms instead, I don’t I don’t don’t know what it is, but you’ve got that one thing.”
Oh dear. I know the whole chorus. You sing it and try get it out of your head, I dare you.
Then they sang one more song, I don’t think it’s been released (like I should know, big fan I am! LOL) but it was something like “when he lays me down, it just kills me inside…” I was like WTF? You guys are singing about sex? Do your fans even get wet yet?
Sorry. I know that was inappropriate. I tone my blog down because I can be very rude at times, but I just had to say it. Like seriously people. Are they really watching girls they like getting bonked by other guys? At like 15 or whatever their age is?
Anyway, I can’t talk, because in amongst observing all this teen-drama, I realised that Harry is very cute.
Yes Harry. I’m a Harry-girl.
(I’ll just wait for the 1D death threats and angry mails to start flooding – in “he’s mine!” and “I’ll kill you bitch!” They’re little girls though, so I doubt they use foul language yet, few years to go ‘til they hit 12. :p)
He looks very dreamy and has a really sexy voice, it’s very deep for his young, young years. I did previously think that the black-haired guy was cute, the one who reminds me of AJ from Backstreet Boys. But I think I’ve changed, there’s just something very solemn and perplexing about his gaze, especially when he sang the above ‘guy-laying-you-down-I-die’ bit and held his heart. It was like he was actually HURTING.
LOL. I’m having too much fun now.
But if I was a teenybopper now, I would create outrageous fantasies, with Harry, and black-haired AJ look-a-like fighting over me, and then the other dude, no idea what his name is but the girls went nuts when he sang his part, well he would step in and say “hey, move over guys, she’s mine…”
No! Stop it! It’s wrong, so so wrong.
:)
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Speculating about the Ordinary
I haven’t been blogging so much as of late. There’s so much going on in my life, and so you might say ‘oh yeah you’re busy.’ It happens in blog world. There are times where you get all hyped up and blog like crazy, constantly looking around you for blog inspiration, to the point where you’re at work, doing the best blogging you’ve ever done in your life, completely forgetting to do any actual work.
With all the busy-ness, you’d think that when I actually do get time, that I’d have something to write about. No, nothing.
I was thinking about it yesterday. There is so much going on in my life, and I finally made the effort to link the two together after a convo I was having with Hubbie yesterday. I was telling him how after seeing my relos on the weekend, I was hanging for the day when I could say “BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!”
Well, not as such those words. But whenever they ask me “so, what’s new?” All I want to say is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING has been going on. Instead I go “ahh, not much.”
All the life-changing things that are going on, the things that Hubbie and I plan for, and talk about, my deepest secrets and plans, all of it, are things that I’m not telling anyone. Actually no I lie. The one thing that a small circle of people know about is my book. And whoever has read about it in the blogger-verse, but that I don’t really count that because no one knows who I actually am, and I want to keep it that way. :)
My book. I can’t wait to start this new chapter of my life, (pardon the pun) and move on from this job. I’m so over it. Ok, I’m putting it out there: I’M SO OVER IT. I want to be my own boss, do my own thing, and make my passion, my work, my job. Wouldn’t that be the most glorious thing? Going to work in the morning (down the stairs at home or to the local café which our friends own with my laptop) and doing what I love - writing -all day every day? Having that freedom, to live life as I want – that’s what I aspire to. That’s the dream.
And I just want it to be out there! I’ve finished the second draft, I’m doing fixes, but I feel like I have no time, I need solid blocks of free time to do all my read-throughs and make sure everything connects. I can’t wait to send it out, I seriously can’t wait.
And I can’t wait to scream out to the world: I am an author! But until things are settled, and until it’s actually happening, I need to be patient, and take my time – do things properly.
So in the meantime I say to people “hmm, not much.”
And on top of that, I feel like I have even less reason to blog, because I’ve started a kind of a diary – I did consider making it into another blog, but due to the contents and my hopeful plans for it, I’m keeping it on the low, for now.
Writing book + writing secret journal = not too much time for random blog.
And so you can see why the hell I can’t say anything. It’s so annoying!
“So yeah, I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
“Ahh, can’t say. Oh there’s – nope can’t tell you that either. Oh and - nope sorry.”
That’s the bullshit conversation I want to avoid.
I feel so boring around other people, yet my insides want to burst with excitement. It’s hard. Hubbie and I have things we’re hoping for, and we have things we’re kind of guessing on, but until certain things actually develop and certain circumstances come into fruition, we’ve been standing around, kind of in a state of nothingness, smiling and nodding, saying “Oh, good!”
But our day will come. Too right it will.
With all the busy-ness, you’d think that when I actually do get time, that I’d have something to write about. No, nothing.
I was thinking about it yesterday. There is so much going on in my life, and I finally made the effort to link the two together after a convo I was having with Hubbie yesterday. I was telling him how after seeing my relos on the weekend, I was hanging for the day when I could say “BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!”
Well, not as such those words. But whenever they ask me “so, what’s new?” All I want to say is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING has been going on. Instead I go “ahh, not much.”
All the life-changing things that are going on, the things that Hubbie and I plan for, and talk about, my deepest secrets and plans, all of it, are things that I’m not telling anyone. Actually no I lie. The one thing that a small circle of people know about is my book. And whoever has read about it in the blogger-verse, but that I don’t really count that because no one knows who I actually am, and I want to keep it that way. :)
My book. I can’t wait to start this new chapter of my life, (pardon the pun) and move on from this job. I’m so over it. Ok, I’m putting it out there: I’M SO OVER IT. I want to be my own boss, do my own thing, and make my passion, my work, my job. Wouldn’t that be the most glorious thing? Going to work in the morning (down the stairs at home or to the local café which our friends own with my laptop) and doing what I love - writing -all day every day? Having that freedom, to live life as I want – that’s what I aspire to. That’s the dream.
And I just want it to be out there! I’ve finished the second draft, I’m doing fixes, but I feel like I have no time, I need solid blocks of free time to do all my read-throughs and make sure everything connects. I can’t wait to send it out, I seriously can’t wait.
And I can’t wait to scream out to the world: I am an author! But until things are settled, and until it’s actually happening, I need to be patient, and take my time – do things properly.
So in the meantime I say to people “hmm, not much.”
And on top of that, I feel like I have even less reason to blog, because I’ve started a kind of a diary – I did consider making it into another blog, but due to the contents and my hopeful plans for it, I’m keeping it on the low, for now.
Writing book + writing secret journal = not too much time for random blog.
And so you can see why the hell I can’t say anything. It’s so annoying!
“So yeah, I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
“Ahh, can’t say. Oh there’s – nope can’t tell you that either. Oh and - nope sorry.”
That’s the bullshit conversation I want to avoid.
I feel so boring around other people, yet my insides want to burst with excitement. It’s hard. Hubbie and I have things we’re hoping for, and we have things we’re kind of guessing on, but until certain things actually develop and certain circumstances come into fruition, we’ve been standing around, kind of in a state of nothingness, smiling and nodding, saying “Oh, good!”
But our day will come. Too right it will.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Prince did it to me
Really he did. I saw him a couple of weeks ago in his ‘Welcome to Australia’ tour, and he was gobsmackingly awesome. So good in fact, that I got sick, like Red and I did years earlier when we first saw Justin.
Yep, once again, we both got sick days later, on the same exact day. I started with muscle aches and shivers on a Friday afternoon, progressing to a temperature, that went away overnight but was replaced with a sore throat, runny nose and coughing.
There’s something so evil about getting sick on a Friday afternoon. It’s a sure-fire way to screw up your weekend.
Now, more than a week later after getting sick, I still have the same annoying, persistent, dry, cough-or-you’ll-die-choking-on-nothing-mofo cough, which is at its worst at night. In the morning it’s decent, but assisted by its good friend flem, which helps it by irritating the f$%^ out of my throat even further, making me cough incessantly but to no avail because the thick flem stays where it is, lodged in my throat, it is almost as bad in the morning because I need to blow my nose ‘til my brain hurts, or stand over the sink gagging and hacking.
This one such morning, I started coughing here early at work, to the point where I had to run away to the bathroom: I just couldn’t take it. I started spitting into the sink, trying to get the flem out, and saw a reddish colour blended into the spit.
Blood. I saw it a couple of days ago as well, but dismissed it as nothing. Seeing it again, I’m still leaning towards the ‘nothing’ theory, nothing meaning the blood is from my irritated throat. I have seen my doctor (albeit last week) and I’m hoping it goes away. Even google was surprisingly encouraging, when I typed in ‘coughing up blood from a sore throat:’ a LOT of searches came up, rather than the usual, ‘You Will Die’ ones when you try net self-diagnose.
People. Never Net Self-Diagnose.
There has been one fantastic upside to all this spluttering, blood-inducing, hacking business. Whenever I get sick like this, and then the cold progresses to my throat, there are a couple of days – well, maybe it’s more like a day and a half – where I get the most fantastic voice.
I love it. My voice is completely screwed up, cracking, breaking, sometimes no noise actually comes out if it’s REALLY bad. There’s a mix of huskiness, hoarseness, and no matter how loud, soft, quick or slow I talk, it stays there, sexy, teasing, like I should be working late night phones. I love it I love it I love it.
I started getting it late Monday, then all day yesterday I just wanted to yap on to hear myself talk, and now today, I can tell it’s going away. It’s just the most fantastic tone. So crackly and full of character, mystery, drama.
I might get (un)lucky and get the voice again when George Michael visits in November
Yep, once again, we both got sick days later, on the same exact day. I started with muscle aches and shivers on a Friday afternoon, progressing to a temperature, that went away overnight but was replaced with a sore throat, runny nose and coughing.
There’s something so evil about getting sick on a Friday afternoon. It’s a sure-fire way to screw up your weekend.
Now, more than a week later after getting sick, I still have the same annoying, persistent, dry, cough-or-you’ll-die-choking-on-nothing-mofo cough, which is at its worst at night. In the morning it’s decent, but assisted by its good friend flem, which helps it by irritating the f$%^ out of my throat even further, making me cough incessantly but to no avail because the thick flem stays where it is, lodged in my throat, it is almost as bad in the morning because I need to blow my nose ‘til my brain hurts, or stand over the sink gagging and hacking.
This one such morning, I started coughing here early at work, to the point where I had to run away to the bathroom: I just couldn’t take it. I started spitting into the sink, trying to get the flem out, and saw a reddish colour blended into the spit.
Blood. I saw it a couple of days ago as well, but dismissed it as nothing. Seeing it again, I’m still leaning towards the ‘nothing’ theory, nothing meaning the blood is from my irritated throat. I have seen my doctor (albeit last week) and I’m hoping it goes away. Even google was surprisingly encouraging, when I typed in ‘coughing up blood from a sore throat:’ a LOT of searches came up, rather than the usual, ‘You Will Die’ ones when you try net self-diagnose.
People. Never Net Self-Diagnose.
There has been one fantastic upside to all this spluttering, blood-inducing, hacking business. Whenever I get sick like this, and then the cold progresses to my throat, there are a couple of days – well, maybe it’s more like a day and a half – where I get the most fantastic voice.
I love it. My voice is completely screwed up, cracking, breaking, sometimes no noise actually comes out if it’s REALLY bad. There’s a mix of huskiness, hoarseness, and no matter how loud, soft, quick or slow I talk, it stays there, sexy, teasing, like I should be working late night phones. I love it I love it I love it.
I started getting it late Monday, then all day yesterday I just wanted to yap on to hear myself talk, and now today, I can tell it’s going away. It’s just the most fantastic tone. So crackly and full of character, mystery, drama.
I might get (un)lucky and get the voice again when George Michael visits in November
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