How Time Does Fly

Perhaps it's time to start up this old blog again... though I won't promise to update it regularly, as I know my notoriety for forgetting that blogs exist...

Three years and change. And now 2011 is almost over, only a few days left of this year. Let's see. Time for a brief update.

In August of 2008 a bunch of shit happened at once: my girlfriend moved to Atlanta to go to school and live with her parents, I was in a bad car accident and sustained a neck injury that still troubles me today, I got laid off from my job and realized I was going to have to move out of the house I loved. It was a dark, scary time, but I made it through, as I always do.

I started working at the bowling center in Taylors as a bartender in September of 2008, and in October moved in with two new roommates, Rick and Jason. We lived in a little condo for a year, and then moved to an awesome house nearby in October of 2009. I kept working at the bowling alley and became their sales coordinator, as well as a bartender. I loved my little job, but all good things must come to an end I guess, because I got laid off in November of 2010.

My girlfriend and I finally decided to break up after months of trying to make our relationship work long distance, and I held on to her for much longer than I should have - I was still in love with her, even though she'd been screwing a guy in Atlanta while we were still together. I finally managed to cut the cord and haven't talked to her in a while.

I wrote a book in 2010 and went to Las Vegas for a writing convention.

2011 has been a low year for me I guess, but there have been some awesome highlights. I've been searching for a job and while I was doing that I got my real estate license and have started dabbling with other sales stuff too. Rick and Jason moved out and Torrie and Wes moved in. Still in the same cool house in Taylors, still with the same three cats.

Maybe I'll catch up more later. Maybe not. That's all for now. If ya wanna know more, check out these links:

http://arethronok.tumblr.com
http://bmillerfiction.blogspot.com
http://facebook.com/arethronok

Who are you?

On upstategeeks.com there’s a current thread called “Who are you?”. Basically it’s an invitation to share a little about yourself in whatever way you like. It took me a long time to decide what I wanted to say. For a while I didn’t want to post anything. I’m really starting to keep to myself more than I ever have and not talk a whole hell of a lot, so an exercise in revealing things about myself seems daunting in one way and pointless in another, but I’m still game for trying to make new friends, and part of making new friends is TALKING to them and learning about them and letting them learn about you, so I decided to go ahead and post something. Here’s what I said:

~ I’m a writer, storyteller, reader, joker, gamer, editor, daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, plotter, dreamer, believer, skeptic, enthusiast, talker, sleeper, dancer, jumper, lover, fighter, driver, swimmer, blogger, watcher, player, typist, liberal, human in no particular order.
~ I’m a picker, I’m a grinner, I’m a lover, and I’m a sinner. I play my music in the sun. I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker. I sure don’t wanna hurt no one.
~ I throw one hell of a party, especially when I have a little time to plan.
~ Over half my life has been molded and shaped by Star Wars.
~ I love quotes and funny/interesting/meaningful phrases, and collect them like a raven with shinies.
~ I always, ALWAYS give people more chances than they deserve. I can’t help it – friends are almost impossible for me to write off. You really, really have to screw up for me to kick you to the curb. I’m understanding to a fault, sometimes.
~ I’m not a vegetarian, but I respect their viewpoints, and always make sure they have something safe to eat in my home.
~ I may not agree with your opinion, but I’ll defend to the death your right to speak it.
~ I love the ocean and the mountains equally. The ocean is my passionate love affair. The mountains are the comforting reassurance of home.
~ I’m realizing as I get older that becoming more like your parents isn’t always a bad thing.
~ I’m also realizing that getting older isn’t the mixed-up house of horrors we always thought it to be.
~ I’m a seasoned veteran of dealing with my own internal issues, and have the scars – and strength – to prove it.
~ I’m never what I seem exactly. Except when I am.

Oh, and in case you didn’t know, I love toast.
And bacon… mmmmmm, bacon. ;)

Any other takers? Who are you?

Thus and such, schtuff and sundry update

I’ve been falling down on blogging, but here’s a nice long update for you.

~ Went to see Nine Inch Nails on the 13th. It was a good show, but not the best we’ve been to in my opinion. NIN has a couple of new projects out – “Ghosts” and “The Slip” – and I haven’t had much of a chance to listen to either of them. Since tours are all about promoting new stuff, there were several songs I wasn’t very familiar with, and it took away from the performance a little for me. But it was a great show nonetheless.

I think I like live music in small venues better than in large ones. When you have a professional production like the NIN show we saw the other night, it’s always amazing – but it’s also slick and polished and rehearsed, so there’s not nearly as much raw energy and passion as you have in a tiny venue. Even bands like NIN are prone to this. When we went to see them at the Congress in Chicago, it was one of the most amazing shows I’ve ever been to mainly because the venue was so small. It was impossible for them to be polished because it was, like, the third show of the entire tour. Plus the fact that the entire thing was general admission and the whole place was overrun by insane rabid fans made the whole experience something that was almost surreal.

I love live music, I love going to see people play live music – I’m all for being entertained. But there’s something about big production shows that just don’t have the same spark of intensity and passion and creativity and love that being in a bar with a hundred other people, screaming out the words to your favorite songs does. I guess it’s kind of hard to explain…

~ Still writing, but the past week and a half I’ve hit a wall. I’ve been having some health issues, and the drugs I’m taking to deal with those issues really put my body through the ringer. By the time I get to the computer in the evenings to sit down and write, I’m too exhausted to even think properly, let alone create. It’s REALLY frustrating. For a few weeks there I was producing like clockwork, really getting into a groove. Now I feel like the groove’s been thrown off. I wish I could just slip into a routine and have it stick. I want so badly to be a writer for a living, but I can’t realize that dream until I have produced and published a lot of work. And maybe not even then. I’ve been eating the elephant a bite at a time, but right now it’s almost impossible to see anything but the whole huge thing and how daunting it is. I got a rejection letter back this week too, so… yeah. Sigh. It’s ok though, I just keep reminding myself that it’s a matter of statistics. The more I submit, the more that gets rejected, the closer I am to getting published. You have to work through the rejections to get to the good stuff. Just like the rest of life.

~ Trying to decide if we’re staying in the house or moving at the beginning of October. Personally I DO NOT WANT TO MOVE. At all. Period. I love the house I live in, even if it is kind of bunkass and the landlord does the bare minimum to get by. It’s a great party house, that’s for damn sure. And in the last year it’s become a comfortable home. But I can’t afford it on my own, and I don’t know if my roommates can handle their shares. Crutching along for a couple of months is one thing, but you can’t sign a year’s lease and not at least have some inkling about the monetary situation. Cross your collective fingers for me. I don’t want to move! I HATE MOVING!! And it’s not just that – I really, really do love that house.

~ I got a new laptop! It’s a Toshiba. I’m still learning my way around it. It’s hard (but nifty) to get used to a portable computer. And I still have my desktop so I’m kind of in computer limbo at the moment. But it’s very cool. I’m having a lot of fun with it. I got some killer speakers to go along with it too.

~ Had a huge party this weekend – LABORPENDENCE DAY! It was fricking awesome. Basically it was a conglomeration of all kinds of different summer-type parties: we had a lot of tiki/luau decorations like hula girls and tropical fish and tiki torches, and we had a grill-out with hamburgers and hot dogs and brats and ribs, and played games like badminton and cornhole and a water balloon war. We did power hour too. We did some really neat decorations… we carved watermelons (kind of like jack-o-lanterns) and made lanterns out of them. Erin’s looked like a tiki god and mine had fireworks on it. They ended up looking really great. The whole party, from start to finish, was a blast. We had about 30 people – around the same number as we had for St. Pat’s – and it was a really great crowd. I love bringing different friends from different circles together and having them meet each other and make new friends. There were so many interesting conversations going on that night that it was hard to keep up with everything. (Especially after all the alcohol that was ingested). We had such a fabulous time. There are pics – not many, because I was the only one with a camera and I kept running around having to do things, and then I got tipsy and forgot the damn camera. But the ones I took are really good. Check them out if you like, they’re at http://www.flickr.com/photos/28012905@N03/sets/72157606821229288/. Feel free to comment if you like.

That’s all for now. Back to work! Until next time.

Ten Things I Did This Weekend

1. Went to the doctor and got some nifty new prescriptions.

2. Went bowling with a few Upstate Geeks at the bowling center in Taylors. I suck at bowling, didn’t break a hundred in either game, but it was a good time.

3. Did Power Hour with Shaggy, Avery, Crunchy, Sarah, Jo and Leigh. Got super-smashed.

4. Played with my new laptop and made my first new playlist, “The First Time”. I was drunk when I made it, but it’s still good.

5. Got up early on Saturday and went to the Saturday Art Market so I could help out with the Fissure booth. Walked around and made a lot of new contacts. Was given the title of “Marketing Director” for Fissure by 11 AM – ha!

6. Went back to the house and talked to Gail for a long time about all kinds of things, not the least of which were Fissure, drugs, and rock n roll.

7. Went to Vampire. Played for a bit; got sick and went home. Beh! Crashed upon arrival. Slept ‘til noon the next day.

8. Watched The Host, a great Korean horror flick, with Shaggy. I highly recommend.

9. Took a nap. Caught up on my sleep and let my body heal itself as best I could.

10. Planned for this weekend’s party – Laborpendence Day! Made lists of things that have to be done. Worked on plans for drinks, decorations and games.

This was the most productive lazy weekend I’ve had in forever. Whoo!

Wildlife Animal Kingdom... in the restroom!

You’re getting ready for work. Know that feeling? It’s early morning. The Weather Channel is mumbling in your bedroom. The cat’s curled up on a mound of sheets on your bed. You’re fifteen minutes from leaving, fresh from the shower, in a t-shirt and socks and boxers. You’re only a quarter awake, mostly on autopilot. You’ve done your morning routine so many times it’s been reduced to nothing more than muscle memory. You walk into the downstairs bathroom adjacent to your bedroom, to get your morning dose of asthma medicine. You reach up into the cabinet over the toilet for your medicine. Something dark catches the corner of your eye – something that doesn’t belong. Something in the toilet. You look down.

In the toilet bowl, there are EYES and TEETH and FUR and CLAWS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

I woke up to baby possums in the toilet bowl this morning. God! I can’t even tell you what a crazy adrenaline jolt that was.

It rained really hard last night, and I guess somehow they got through the pipes and ended up in the house. I have no idea how two of them did it at the same time, but there they were, and they were both alive. Shaking and soaked, but alive.

I debated outside the bathroom door, cats circling around my legs, meowing their distress. I could sympathize. What to do? I had to leave in ten minutes for work, but I couldn’t leave them in the damn toilet bowl. I wasn’t about to try flushing them again either. I might not have wanted them in my house by any means, but I’m not fricking inhumane.

I threw on some pants, went upstairs and recruited one of my roommates to help me out, declared an emergency downstairs. He stumbled out of bed, blinking, yawning. “What is it?” he asked.

“There’s something in my toilet,” I said.

He gave me a narrowed-eye look.

“Here’s the kicker: it’s alive,” I said.

His expression became even more doubtful. “Whaaaat?”

I nodded. “There are two baby possums in my toilet.”

He was quiet for a second. Then: “Am I really awake?”

Downstairs, we searched for something to put the little possums in. I finally found a stock pot and got him a big spoon. He was brave about it. I hurried up and got dressed – precious seconds were ticking away, moving me ever closer to being late for work. I pulled my polo over my head, tied my shoes, watching him through the doorway. He scooped up each of the babies and put them in the stock pot with a soft plop. I was ready for work. I walked over, picked up the pot. The little guys were clinging to each other, shaking. I wasn’t sure if they were scared or cold. Probably both. I walked the pot outside and set it down carefully on the back porch.

I looked at my roommate. “I gotta go to work.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Go to work, I know you can’t be late. I’ll figure this out.”

I left him there with the babies in the stock pot, carefully covered with an old sweatshirt to keep them warm. Halfway to work, I realized I hadn’t even thought about taking a single picture with my camera phone. DAMN!

The Wildlife Rescue people are coming at ten today to pick up the possums. I emailed the landlord, though I know he won’t do anything. Whatever; at least it was a little excitement, a little break from the routine.

Let the wild rumpus start!!

Update: My roommate texted me a couple of pics. Here are our possums:



They're kind of cute when they're not scaring the bejesus out of me.

Close up:

I hope they do well. Roommate says the wildlife woman will keep them in captivity until they're about 13 months (they're five months now) and then release them into the wild. She also said it's not uncommon for this to happen, but it's always disturbing, not just for the humans involved, but for the possums too.

Well, good luck, little guys. Thanks for making my day interesting.

Movies

Summer Movie Season (SMS) is always like a trip to an amusement park for me. For most of the time, it's awesome. I look forward to each movie with childlike anticipatory glee. I danced in my pants for Iron Man, and am continuing to do the same kind of celebratory pants-dance for Batman. There were so many movies in between those two... Prince Caspian, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Sex and the City, The Incredible Hulk, Wanted, Hancock. So... many... movies...

It's great but they're starting to blur together for me. So it's probably good that SMS is coming to an end soon. I think there's only a couple more movies on my gotta-see list for the summer. Then we gear up again in November with Harry Potter and James Bond. God I love movies. Not everyone understands why I'm not willing to wait until the big ones come out on DVD, but those of you that are also cinemaphiles know why I do what I do. There's nothing like a huge screen, surround sound, semi-comfortable seat, bag of popcorn, box of raisinets... all at the same time while being entertained in a giant dark room. But it's also the feeling of camraderie that I get with my fellow movie goers. These are people I don't know, that I'll never see again. Nameless, faceless blurs in the dark. But I share this experience with them... this story... this feeling of being caught up in something larger than myself. We are entertained together, disgusted together, amused together, shocked together, amazed together. We are vulnerable together, there, in the dark. We all share something close and indefinable for those hundred and twenty (or so) minutes. A common bond that may, one day, define the start of a friendship between us. Even though I know I didn't see Big Fish in the same theater as my friend Shaggy, because we've both seen it and loved it we're both a little closer to one another as friends. And the person I did go see that movie with - we laughed, we jumped, we were spellbound and we shed tears together - well, hell, we started being friends right at that moment, even though we barely knew each other. And now, four and a half years later, she's still "my girl in the river".

Honor Thy Blog... 100 posts, and a year since the move

So! This is my century post.

100 POSTS!! WHOOOOO YEAH!!!

I never thought I'd keep up with this blog for this long. I'm not good about keeping journals, electronic or otherwise. I've been working on keeping a longhand journal, but it's been sitting dormant for over a month now (not surprising). With blogs, I usually get bored. I feel as if I'm posting those kind of I-had-cereal-for-breakfast entries that nobody gives a damn about, including me. But then I go back and read over them and see that even in the most boring entries there are things that make me remember other things that I'd have probably forgotten about. It's an exercise in perpetual nostalgia.

So. WHOO!!! ::spray of fireworks:: And on to other things.

Today is the one year anniversary of me moving to SC. So for a minute I'm going to reminisce about the last year, and Indianapolis, and all that good shit. So, here goes. If you're bored, hell, go back to YouTube or take a nap or something.

A year ago, I burned a new CD to add to the collection in the CD holder that lives on my sun visor, packed my truck (an aging 1994 Ford Explorer, Eddie Bauer edition) with as many boxes as it would hold, and set out for a new life in South Carolina. It was a Saturday, and I left at 7 am or so, so it wasn't even really all that warm yet (because Indiana doesn't have the kinds of hell-on-earth summers that we do down here). I kissed my cats goodbye (especially Max, who was still a kitten), took a good long look around at my beautiful apartment, and headed down the stairs with a mingled sense of fear, sadness and excitement.

The drive down was long and uneventful. I calmed myself with music, especially the new mix I'd made. I still listen to that mix on a regular basis. There's a song on it called "Shut Your Eyes" by Snow Patrol. To this day, hearing that song makes my heart rate slow down. It's like some kind of audio balm. The morning was misty and green. I stopped at Starbucks, got breakfast and hit the road. Ten hours later I was in Lyman. I'm glad I drove - flying is too fast for a trip like that. It was a pilgramage.

Indianapolis is starting to fade for me now. I guess that's not surprising, considering it's been a year to the day. There are still things I remember with perfect clarity, things I want to hold on to. Things like the herons that lived around the lake behind our apartments, or the huge colony of turtles that shared the lake with the herons (and ducks and geese and fish and raccoons and a hedgehog we named Herman who liked to dance in circles along the edge of the brambles near the lake and all sorts of other woodland creatures - all living on a tiny square of undeveloped floodplain that was on the north side of Indy, off 82nd street). On hot days, the turtles would climb up on the shore of the lake and sun themselves. Sometimes, they'd stake out logs, and then the smaller turtles would climb on top of the bigger turtles until there was a mound of them, one neatly stacked on top of the other, largest to smallest, perfectly symmetrical.

Things like the perfect tree over on 96th street, with its wending branches and gnarled roots knobbling improbably out of the black Indiana soil, or the way the sky seemed ten times bigger in the late afternoon, stretching on eternally over the flat plains, unbroken by hills or even tall trees. The taste of Da Vinci's Italian Kiss gelato - good lord, it was delicious. Or the way I loved to lie on my stomach in our bed, looking out those huge windows in our bedroom that looked out over the lake. I could spend hours just meditating like that. In the summertime the fireflies made their homes in the brush between our building and the lake, and just after twilight they'd all come out to dance and play - literally hundreds, if not thousands of them. It was charmingly overwhelming. Amazing - like a faerie dance, a magical congregation meeting each night at the same time just under our bedroom windows. Breathtaking.

In the last year I've grown comfortable with being in SC again, learned that I really can live here and be responsible and not fall into my old habits of self-destruction. I still feel like I just got here, though.

I've more to post on this but I need to get my thoughts organized for it, so I'll leave it here for now. I'm smiling as I think of those stacked turtles, those fireflies sketching their way across the velvety darkness of post-twilight, dancing in the darkness, playing along the firey rims of my imagination.