So if you care to find me...look to the Western sky...as someone told me lately: "Everyone deserves a chance to fly..."
(lyrics from "Defying Gravity" from the musical "WICKED." Or from Glee. Take your pick.)
Well, I can't say too much, loyal Lettuce-Heads, because what you put out on the "tinterweb" is permanent and forever, but my situation is in a bit of flux at the moment.
I know! Again! Right?
Changes are afoot, and my situation has gone from semi-almost-stable to completely on the other foot in a matter of a week. But never fear, I think the impending change is a good one, and I'm crossing everything I can that all turns out as it should.
Confused? Yeah, me too. But I find that when things get weird, I can just look at that beautiful boy in the photo there and things will get all right-ish riteawayquik. Well, for now I'm just looking at a photo of him, but tomorrow night I'll get to start a whole weekend of Clown Goodness, and that's definitely got me smiling.
Don't worry, those five or six of you that are now on tenterhooks to know what the change is and what is coming up next for those of us here at the Lettuce. Your wait will not be long nor in vain. In the meantime, though, here's something to bounce around and label me insane for: Next month is a new Nanowrimo, and I'm itching to get started!
Catch you guys after the CRF opening weekend...come see us if you're in the area!
06 October 2011
07 September 2011
On nomadic life...and happy surprises
I've been very fussy lately. Yeah, those of you that know me, way more than normal. Can you believe it? Aren't you glad you're not exposed to it daily? I think that I've pinpointed why...I am not meant to live like a nomad.
Granted, I have a fantastic set of parents that have let me all but take over the back part of their house. My things are all over one of the bedrooms. There are enough renaissance festival gowns hanging in the "big room" to make Elizabeth I's closet cry out in jealousy and shame. But it isn't MY space.
I have fabulous friends that let me stay over at their houses when I need to travel for work. I have an absolute SAINT who is keeping our new greyhound, Clown, until I have a permanent place to go that allows dogs. But that isn't my space.
I had an almost breakdown Monday night at the prospect of more traveling. This week it is particularly busy because I'm working two days in Greenville and interviewing for a full time job in Charleston in between. But I slept on it, packed my bag, and headed north on autopilot...
...and it's all fine. Jobs in Greenville sorted. Interview to prepare for but really...I am what I am and this is the third one so...? Good tunes and a good car to drive down to the beach.
Life at the beach could be incredible. What's the happy surprise then? That I'm still hanging on and in...that I've been living from a suitcase since May and I'm getting to be okay with it...and that the trousers I bought yesterday were too big. Happy surprises, all of them. Here's to having another happy surprise after that interview tomorrow...
Granted, I have a fantastic set of parents that have let me all but take over the back part of their house. My things are all over one of the bedrooms. There are enough renaissance festival gowns hanging in the "big room" to make Elizabeth I's closet cry out in jealousy and shame. But it isn't MY space.
I have fabulous friends that let me stay over at their houses when I need to travel for work. I have an absolute SAINT who is keeping our new greyhound, Clown, until I have a permanent place to go that allows dogs. But that isn't my space.
I had an almost breakdown Monday night at the prospect of more traveling. This week it is particularly busy because I'm working two days in Greenville and interviewing for a full time job in Charleston in between. But I slept on it, packed my bag, and headed north on autopilot...
...and it's all fine. Jobs in Greenville sorted. Interview to prepare for but really...I am what I am and this is the third one so...? Good tunes and a good car to drive down to the beach.
Life at the beach could be incredible. What's the happy surprise then? That I'm still hanging on and in...that I've been living from a suitcase since May and I'm getting to be okay with it...and that the trousers I bought yesterday were too big. Happy surprises, all of them. Here's to having another happy surprise after that interview tomorrow...
01 September 2011
Things I Have Learned This Holiday...
1. It IS possible to do two consecutive NaNoWriMo events, win them both, and not lose your mind. The quality of the product remains to be judged, however. (Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire is due out this month!!!)
2. I'm not entirely sure that Delta knows the difference between vegetarian and vegan. I'm also not sure that I know the difference between vegetarian and Doesn't Eat Meat.
3. The exit row is only good if you've got the aisle seat OR an extra layer of whale-like blubber to insulate you from the COLD exit row door.
4 .I could win a gold medal if whinging was an Olympic sport.
5. I love the UK but I do not love where we lived in Keighley. My homesickness for the UK is genuine. I love the culture (for the most part, yobs and chavs not included) and the history and the people (see above yob/chav disclaimer) but I let the negative aspects of my immediate situation ruin a fantastic growth opportunity.
6. I have good friends that I love dearly in the US and the UK.
7. If you look crazy/jet-lagged enough, the BILO employees will let you use that store's Bonuscard account at the till.
8. It will not kill you to listen to the same two songs on repeat as you are stuck in traffic just outside of Charlotte.
9. The staff at Manchester Airport are the nicest airport staff I've ever dealt with, bar none.
10. I don't care where I end up living, as long as Simon and my animals are within arm's reach.
(PS-Hello, Jet Lag. Don't make yourself too comfortable, I'd like you gone as soon as possible.)
2. I'm not entirely sure that Delta knows the difference between vegetarian and vegan. I'm also not sure that I know the difference between vegetarian and Doesn't Eat Meat.
3. The exit row is only good if you've got the aisle seat OR an extra layer of whale-like blubber to insulate you from the COLD exit row door.
4 .I could win a gold medal if whinging was an Olympic sport.
5. I love the UK but I do not love where we lived in Keighley. My homesickness for the UK is genuine. I love the culture (for the most part, yobs and chavs not included) and the history and the people (see above yob/chav disclaimer) but I let the negative aspects of my immediate situation ruin a fantastic growth opportunity.
6. I have good friends that I love dearly in the US and the UK.
7. If you look crazy/jet-lagged enough, the BILO employees will let you use that store's Bonuscard account at the till.
8. It will not kill you to listen to the same two songs on repeat as you are stuck in traffic just outside of Charlotte.
9. The staff at Manchester Airport are the nicest airport staff I've ever dealt with, bar none.
10. I don't care where I end up living, as long as Simon and my animals are within arm's reach.
(PS-Hello, Jet Lag. Don't make yourself too comfortable, I'd like you gone as soon as possible.)
19 August 2011
Excerpt from the latest Proud Racer Novel, in progress...
“Where can we go today, Mommy?” Daisy asked as she danced around Mommy’s feet while Mommy made cups of tea for herself and for Daddy. “Daddy said walk, where can we go walk?”
“Hey, why don’t we go to Saltaire on the train and then walk the canal back to Bingley? We can get the train home from there,” Daddy said. Mommy grinned and nodded. “Daisy, do you want to go walk along the canal?” he asked. Daisy play-bowed and danced around the kitchen. “I guess that’s a yes?” Daddy said, laughing.
“Yes! YES YES YES!” Daisy yipped, making Mommy laugh. A walk down the canal! Daisy didn’t know what a canal was but it was bound to be exciting. She thought she had been before but wasn’t sure. Soon Mommy and Daddy had sorted out Daisy’s collar and leash and they were heading down to the train station. It wasn’t raining so Mommy and Daddy decided to walk. Daisy wasn’t always thrilled with the walk down to the train because there wasn’t a lot of grass for her to walk on or sniff, and there were lots of cars.
As they turned the corner from South Street onto East Parade, Daisy caught sight of herself in the window of the Aladdin Castle indoor playland. Next to her image she saw five other dogs, all transparent and sort of jumbled on top of each other. One of them lifted his big ears and looked around at Daisy in the window. She grinned. “Hey Hunky,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.” Hunky’s image grinned back at her and then promptly ran into Profile’s image, bumping him into Bo’s. Jeany’s image giggled as Lizzard nipped at each of the boys before they started growling at each other.
“Don’t be afraid of the cars, Daisy,” Jeany’s image said. “We’re right here with you, and Mommy and Daddy-Simon are too.” Daisy grinned and bumped Mommy’s leg with her head. Mommy ran her hand over Daisy’s head, grinning along with her.
12 August 2011
Happy Birthday to my Favorite Girl
Seven years ago today, I was huddled around a computer with loads of other people "watching" as a litter of greyhound puppies were being born. It was suggested that, since the litter was an "oops" one (not a planned breeding) the first girl be named Oopsie Daisy.
Those seven years have been amazing. I have watched that tiny puppy grow into an amazingly beautiful dog, with a personality that you can't help adoring. She is my angel, my PPG (psycho puppy girl), my sweet Mei-Mei (precious little girl in Firefly-Chinese).
Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. I'll see you on Tuesday! (insert me dancing like a mad fool here) And happy birthday to the other Leelo Babies: Hallie Jalapeno, Sophie Angel Sox, Casey, Dodger, Windy Bear and Bonnie Boo. I for one am overjoyed and thankful that all of you were born...but especially my Mei-Mei.
(Special tip of the hat to Adam whom I'm sure is watching from up there and swearing that their birthday isn't until the 14th...Cheers, Adam!)
Those seven years have been amazing. I have watched that tiny puppy grow into an amazingly beautiful dog, with a personality that you can't help adoring. She is my angel, my PPG (psycho puppy girl), my sweet Mei-Mei (precious little girl in Firefly-Chinese).
Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. I'll see you on Tuesday! (insert me dancing like a mad fool here) And happy birthday to the other Leelo Babies: Hallie Jalapeno, Sophie Angel Sox, Casey, Dodger, Windy Bear and Bonnie Boo. I for one am overjoyed and thankful that all of you were born...but especially my Mei-Mei.
(Special tip of the hat to Adam whom I'm sure is watching from up there and swearing that their birthday isn't until the 14th...Cheers, Adam!)
11 August 2011
For Leah and Cathie, I present my Blog Face
(AKA "Nancy's got on her I Am So Blogging About This! face...)
So y'all know what I do for a living, right? What you may not know is that there is a certain amount of OTT confidentiality involved in what I do...to the point that some interpreters will not tell their spouses where they will be working during the day, etc. I'm not quite to that point, but you'll excuse me if I am a bit vague in this post. But it just HAD to be blogged...
So I was working at Somewhere today with Someone Who Is Deaf and some other Someones Who Are Hearing, right? One of the Someones Who Are Hearing (I'm gonna get SO tired of typing that before this is done) reached over suddenly and picked a small insect off the shirt of Someone Who Is Deaf, making the excuse that it might bite that Someone Who Is Deaf.
In the chaos that followed, the cutest little green-backed beetle-bug ended up crawling on my knee. Now, if you're an interpreting student, I want you to promise me that you will never do what I did next. If you're from RID, I want you to stop reading now. Seriously.
Anyway, Beetle-Bug on my knee...right. After making sure that Someone Who Is Deaf was okay with it, I put my fingers close to Mr. BB to see if he would crawl up onto it with a view to flinging him to the far side of the room, away from Someone Who Is Hearing who was rapidly turning into Someone Who Would Soon Be Hyperventilating at the sight of Mr. BB. As bugs tend to be, this one was just contrary enough to NOT want to climb up onto my finger. The Someone Who Was Hearing on the other side of me offered, "Would you like me to get it?"
What does that mean to you? To me, it meant do the same thing I was trying to do but successfully, using the yellow legal pad that Someone had in his/her hand. I think you can probably see where this story is going now, can't you?
Other Someone Who Is Hearing smacked the living daylights (not to mention the stuffing) out of my knee and poor Mr. Beetle-Bug. I still have the residue on my trousers to prove it. Before I caught myself, I said (and signed) "Well, that's not at all what I thought you were going to do!"
I mean seriously!! Who smushes a cute little Beetle-Bug? Poor thing never had a chance...and now I have Beetle Bug on my good work trousers.
So y'all know what I do for a living, right? What you may not know is that there is a certain amount of OTT confidentiality involved in what I do...to the point that some interpreters will not tell their spouses where they will be working during the day, etc. I'm not quite to that point, but you'll excuse me if I am a bit vague in this post. But it just HAD to be blogged...
So I was working at Somewhere today with Someone Who Is Deaf and some other Someones Who Are Hearing, right? One of the Someones Who Are Hearing (I'm gonna get SO tired of typing that before this is done) reached over suddenly and picked a small insect off the shirt of Someone Who Is Deaf, making the excuse that it might bite that Someone Who Is Deaf.
In the chaos that followed, the cutest little green-backed beetle-bug ended up crawling on my knee. Now, if you're an interpreting student, I want you to promise me that you will never do what I did next. If you're from RID, I want you to stop reading now. Seriously.
Anyway, Beetle-Bug on my knee...right. After making sure that Someone Who Is Deaf was okay with it, I put my fingers close to Mr. BB to see if he would crawl up onto it with a view to flinging him to the far side of the room, away from Someone Who Is Hearing who was rapidly turning into Someone Who Would Soon Be Hyperventilating at the sight of Mr. BB. As bugs tend to be, this one was just contrary enough to NOT want to climb up onto my finger. The Someone Who Was Hearing on the other side of me offered, "Would you like me to get it?"
What does that mean to you? To me, it meant do the same thing I was trying to do but successfully, using the yellow legal pad that Someone had in his/her hand. I think you can probably see where this story is going now, can't you?
Other Someone Who Is Hearing smacked the living daylights (not to mention the stuffing) out of my knee and poor Mr. Beetle-Bug. I still have the residue on my trousers to prove it. Before I caught myself, I said (and signed) "Well, that's not at all what I thought you were going to do!"
I mean seriously!! Who smushes a cute little Beetle-Bug? Poor thing never had a chance...and now I have Beetle Bug on my good work trousers.
08 August 2011
Okay, for the last time...
1. I've started calling it a lift. Deal with it.
2. I'm going to use British words sometimes instead of American ones. If you understand what I said, why do you feel the need to correct me? It really makes NO sense.
3. I just spent two years of my life over there. Some things are going to rub off. They may or may not go away after I've been here awhile.
4. Just so you know, laughing at how Simon pronounces things, unless you're me and allowed (because he can laugh at my pronunciation) is rude. End of. Yes, I realise it's a double-standard. I don't care.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled mocking. (It's been one of those days...)
2. I'm going to use British words sometimes instead of American ones. If you understand what I said, why do you feel the need to correct me? It really makes NO sense.
3. I just spent two years of my life over there. Some things are going to rub off. They may or may not go away after I've been here awhile.
4. Just so you know, laughing at how Simon pronounces things, unless you're me and allowed (because he can laugh at my pronunciation) is rude. End of. Yes, I realise it's a double-standard. I don't care.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled mocking. (It's been one of those days...)
06 August 2011
Just over a week...
I've got just over a week now to make some super progress on the current WIP because other than the amount of time before the battery dies on the plane, I don't know how much writing will get done in the first few days I'm there. I'm betting on none.
I've got just over a week to work as much as I can, but with my niece coming to stay here on Allen Mountain that won't be much, I'm afraid. Three gigs so far, but that may have to be it.
I've got just over a week to get some stock ordered to take with me to Beach Bound Hounds in September so that I can sign some books and get My Pack's stories out to those who never got to meet the original Fab Five (with apologies to my EQ friends, I'm stealing that b/c my first pack WAS fabulous) and who haven't had a chance to meet Psycho Puppy Girl because she's been overseas. I'm still confident that the WIP will have become Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire by BBH and will be ready to sign and sell as well.
But best of all...
Just over a week from now I will be snuggling up to that face and smooching that noggin...well, when I've pried myself loose from Hubs and stopped putting my face in Mills's fur, that is. I've not packed a thing, in fact I'm still not sure which bag I'm taking or what will go in it...but I'm counting down the days!
I've got just over a week to work as much as I can, but with my niece coming to stay here on Allen Mountain that won't be much, I'm afraid. Three gigs so far, but that may have to be it.
I've got just over a week to get some stock ordered to take with me to Beach Bound Hounds in September so that I can sign some books and get My Pack's stories out to those who never got to meet the original Fab Five (with apologies to my EQ friends, I'm stealing that b/c my first pack WAS fabulous) and who haven't had a chance to meet Psycho Puppy Girl because she's been overseas. I'm still confident that the WIP will have become Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire by BBH and will be ready to sign and sell as well.
But best of all...
Just over a week from now I will be snuggling up to that face and smooching that noggin...well, when I've pried myself loose from Hubs and stopped putting my face in Mills's fur, that is. I've not packed a thing, in fact I'm still not sure which bag I'm taking or what will go in it...but I'm counting down the days!
01 August 2011
New Month, New Camp NaNoWriMo
I know, I just won, I should still be basking, right? NOT. Have you met me? Insanity, thy name is Nancy.
This month's WIP (that's Work In Progress, see, I do pay attention sometimes Dr. Tom!) is a little diddy I like to call "Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire" and it's Daisy's recounting of her two years in Keighley...well, sort of, it's really her take on the times that she got to GO on the TRAIN for a WALK somewhere. She's a well traveled girl though...and hopefully there will be room in the back for pictures of her adventures. The title may change...Daisy's Adventures in Yorkshire doesn't grab me and OI! was too short, though I'm sure that's the word she's heard most often over there.
Right, so I'm blogging about writing while not writing...but I've hit my goal for the day and everything else I write (over there, not here) is just gravy. Fingers crossed I can get this one done and dusted and off to Lulu for publishing prior to Beach Bound Hounds next month.
NEXT MONTH! Good Lord. I'm gonna need a lot of Crystal Light and Goldfish crackers.
This month's WIP (that's Work In Progress, see, I do pay attention sometimes Dr. Tom!) is a little diddy I like to call "Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire" and it's Daisy's recounting of her two years in Keighley...well, sort of, it's really her take on the times that she got to GO on the TRAIN for a WALK somewhere. She's a well traveled girl though...and hopefully there will be room in the back for pictures of her adventures. The title may change...Daisy's Adventures in Yorkshire doesn't grab me and OI! was too short, though I'm sure that's the word she's heard most often over there.
Right, so I'm blogging about writing while not writing...but I've hit my goal for the day and everything else I write (over there, not here) is just gravy. Fingers crossed I can get this one done and dusted and off to Lulu for publishing prior to Beach Bound Hounds next month.
NEXT MONTH! Good Lord. I'm gonna need a lot of Crystal Light and Goldfish crackers.
30 July 2011
And then there were crickets...
I just finished my July Camp Nanowrimo novel. Just now, at 0133 on July 30th, one full day ahead of schedule. Now I have all of tomorrow and Sunday to plan my August Camp Nanowrimo novel. If you're sitting there thinking that I've gone completely insane, you're right. I think I have. If you'd like an ARC of the drivel that just about crippled my fingers for the past 30 days, shoot me an email. The only rule is that you can't laugh...at least not where I can hear you.
Man. How appropriate that I'm doing a camp-themed Wrimo here on Allen Mountain, with the crickets loud just outside the window? I may have to build a campfire to get through August's challenge...but for now, if you need me, I'll be basking for a bit. Night, y'all!
23 July 2011
RID 2011, or Of Lifts, Binoculars, and Smashed Toenails
Yeah, that picture was taken on the way down to RID on Monday. I was happy then and had loads of energy...and great hair. Isn't that great hair?
This past week I attended the RID conference in Atlanta, Georgia. For the first time I drove down to a MARTA station and rode the train down to the hotel rather than flying to the conference. The hotel was fabulous, the company was outstanding, and I got loads of CEUs toward my current CMP cycle (which ends in December, YIKES).
The fabulousness of the hotel was only mitigated slightly by the system of elevators there. Gorgeous though they were, they were glass and went very fast and I was staying on the 27th floor out of 47. Whoosh!
At one point, Lynne (Prevail, Goddess!) and I went all the way up to the top to check out the view. It was particularly woozy for me, and I had the oddest urge to drop my Blackberry over the edge. I didn't, though, and we called the elevator to head back down. Stepped inside, Lynne positioned herself on the floor to look out, and I hit the button for the lobby. I had heard that if you hold down the close door button, the elevator wouldn't stop at every floor but would go straight to the one you'd selected. Doors shut and I held down the close door button.
The elevator went about a foot downward and STOPPED. Yep, you read that right, it lurched to a stop. Between the 47th and 46th floors. I think I might have had a minor panic attack. Meanwhile, Lynne, who never backs down from a challenge, was sitting on the floor cross-legged giggling like a demented hippie as I stared at the buttons, willing the elevator to start moving...but not to plummet to the bottom, mind you.
We ended up on the lobby floor in a few minutes when it started up again. I still don't think my heart rate has gone back to normal.
That afternoon, during one of the workshops, Lynne and I were seated near the back and were having a hard time reading the Power Point on the screen at the front of the room. I turned to Lynne to sign "Can you see that?" and found that she'd pulled some binoculars out of her bag and was reading the screen! I have a lot of fabulous friends, something I found out in spades this week.
The ride home was NOT so pleasant. It took two days, for one thing, because I stopped over at my sister's in Atlanta for the night. That wasn't the bad part though. Today, on my way back to collect my car, my fabulous week fell apart in a splash of pain and hot weather and colour.
Susan and I headed out to go to the MARTA station and I was dragging my FAR TOO HEAVY suitcase out to her car. I somehow dragged it over my left foot, starting at the big toe and working backward. There was no swearing, but I did hop around and let out a Holy Heavenly Hannah! just before my toe started bleeding. We went back in and washed it off, then a neosporin and a plaster later and I was headed north...well, actually I was headed west toward Five Points station to change trains to go north.
Problem was, the northbound train I needed didn't stop at Five Points but rather stopped at Lindbergh, a few stops on up the north line. I should have gotten the train that was on the platform when I got there, but I didn't know that. So a quarter of an hour later I got on a train north, then got off at Lindbergh and hobbled across the platform and back, then caught the right train north to where my car was waiting.
Easy sailing, right? No. Tried to leave the deck, and it said my ticket was invalid. WHAT? Back up to the cashier, paid the fee and got a new ticket that let me out of the deck and got me on my way up here to Mom and Dad's where I'm staying till Simon gets here.
In a way, I can't believe that RID has come and gone already. At the same time, though, especially when you factor in the issues I had getting home today, it seemed like I was gone for a long, long, time.
Onward and upward now...only about two and a half weeks until I fly to the UK and see Simon for two weeks. Might actually rearrange my suitcase before then. For now, though, I'm going to rest up and hopefully catch up on my NaNoWriMo...
This past week I attended the RID conference in Atlanta, Georgia. For the first time I drove down to a MARTA station and rode the train down to the hotel rather than flying to the conference. The hotel was fabulous, the company was outstanding, and I got loads of CEUs toward my current CMP cycle (which ends in December, YIKES).
The fabulousness of the hotel was only mitigated slightly by the system of elevators there. Gorgeous though they were, they were glass and went very fast and I was staying on the 27th floor out of 47. Whoosh!
At one point, Lynne (Prevail, Goddess!) and I went all the way up to the top to check out the view. It was particularly woozy for me, and I had the oddest urge to drop my Blackberry over the edge. I didn't, though, and we called the elevator to head back down. Stepped inside, Lynne positioned herself on the floor to look out, and I hit the button for the lobby. I had heard that if you hold down the close door button, the elevator wouldn't stop at every floor but would go straight to the one you'd selected. Doors shut and I held down the close door button.
The elevator went about a foot downward and STOPPED. Yep, you read that right, it lurched to a stop. Between the 47th and 46th floors. I think I might have had a minor panic attack. Meanwhile, Lynne, who never backs down from a challenge, was sitting on the floor cross-legged giggling like a demented hippie as I stared at the buttons, willing the elevator to start moving...but not to plummet to the bottom, mind you.
We ended up on the lobby floor in a few minutes when it started up again. I still don't think my heart rate has gone back to normal.
That afternoon, during one of the workshops, Lynne and I were seated near the back and were having a hard time reading the Power Point on the screen at the front of the room. I turned to Lynne to sign "Can you see that?" and found that she'd pulled some binoculars out of her bag and was reading the screen! I have a lot of fabulous friends, something I found out in spades this week.
The ride home was NOT so pleasant. It took two days, for one thing, because I stopped over at my sister's in Atlanta for the night. That wasn't the bad part though. Today, on my way back to collect my car, my fabulous week fell apart in a splash of pain and hot weather and colour.
Susan and I headed out to go to the MARTA station and I was dragging my FAR TOO HEAVY suitcase out to her car. I somehow dragged it over my left foot, starting at the big toe and working backward. There was no swearing, but I did hop around and let out a Holy Heavenly Hannah! just before my toe started bleeding. We went back in and washed it off, then a neosporin and a plaster later and I was headed north...well, actually I was headed west toward Five Points station to change trains to go north.
Problem was, the northbound train I needed didn't stop at Five Points but rather stopped at Lindbergh, a few stops on up the north line. I should have gotten the train that was on the platform when I got there, but I didn't know that. So a quarter of an hour later I got on a train north, then got off at Lindbergh and hobbled across the platform and back, then caught the right train north to where my car was waiting.
Easy sailing, right? No. Tried to leave the deck, and it said my ticket was invalid. WHAT? Back up to the cashier, paid the fee and got a new ticket that let me out of the deck and got me on my way up here to Mom and Dad's where I'm staying till Simon gets here.
In a way, I can't believe that RID has come and gone already. At the same time, though, especially when you factor in the issues I had getting home today, it seemed like I was gone for a long, long, time.
Onward and upward now...only about two and a half weeks until I fly to the UK and see Simon for two weeks. Might actually rearrange my suitcase before then. For now, though, I'm going to rest up and hopefully catch up on my NaNoWriMo...
13 July 2011
Well, there's always fish...
So I decided to try again something that I tried when I was younger and less prepared. One summer when I was working at Camp, I decided to become a vegetarian. I don't know why I did it, but if I look back on other things I did at the same time I would guess it was because it would help me lose weight. It was an experiment at best, that left me eating loads and loads of salad greens and McDonald's french fries (on Friday nights, when we'd go into town from camp after the kids left). The end of that experiment was an unplanned trip to the infirmary at Camp after I nearly fainted from a combination of poor nutrition and living in the Georgia heat with no A/C.
Since that failed attempt I've looked with envy at those able to live a vegetarian lifestyle. I don't believe that I will ever make it to a purely vegetarian lifestyle and I am pretty sure that I am not meant to be vegan. However, I do know that when I don't eat meat I feel better, physically. So what pushed me over the edge this time?
For awhile, I have been fighting the feeling that there was something not right in the way that the animals that I've been consuming for most of my life are raised, treated, and processed into the food on my table. Something not right in my opinion, mind you. I would never EVER try to make someone else believe the way I do. If eating meat is okay with you, then that's great, I'm happy for you. It just isn't okay for me anymore.
To throw a slightly hypocritical spanner in the works, I'm not planning to give up fish at this point. I know that there are loads of awful things that happen to fish, and that's why I'm admitting it is hypocritical...I can't quite bring myself to give up sushi. I know there are veg options in sushi but I've only just discovered the heaven that is yellowtail tuna. Mercy.
Anyway, back to the hypothetical straw and camel: I've had the misfortune of riding behind some chicken trucks in my life, and every time it almost reduces me to tears. I saw an awful segment on the local news the other night where a farmer was talking about how you could buy a whole cow from him, you and your buddies, and they'd process the cow...as they were standing in the field with said cows milling around behind them! "You'll get good steaks and two sets of ribs..." It was horrifying to me. But the last straw was the wild turkey and babies that walked across the back yard up here on Allen Mountain the other day. I watched Mama Turkey checking the bushes before she let her babies follow her into the brush. The argument that turkeys (or chickens or cows) are dumb and that's why it's okay to eat them doesn't matter to me. It's a non-argument. Why do we eat some animals and not others? It was then and there that I decided I had to make a change.
I don't and won't begrudge my dog or my cat eating meat. Dogs can't live as vegetarians without a lot of extra work and care. Cats are carnivores. The way I'm looking at this is that my opposition to eating meat is because I have such a strong reverence for nature. I hope that everyone can support me in this decision, and that this time I can make some healthy choices as far as my food goes.
Since that failed attempt I've looked with envy at those able to live a vegetarian lifestyle. I don't believe that I will ever make it to a purely vegetarian lifestyle and I am pretty sure that I am not meant to be vegan. However, I do know that when I don't eat meat I feel better, physically. So what pushed me over the edge this time?
For awhile, I have been fighting the feeling that there was something not right in the way that the animals that I've been consuming for most of my life are raised, treated, and processed into the food on my table. Something not right in my opinion, mind you. I would never EVER try to make someone else believe the way I do. If eating meat is okay with you, then that's great, I'm happy for you. It just isn't okay for me anymore.
To throw a slightly hypocritical spanner in the works, I'm not planning to give up fish at this point. I know that there are loads of awful things that happen to fish, and that's why I'm admitting it is hypocritical...I can't quite bring myself to give up sushi. I know there are veg options in sushi but I've only just discovered the heaven that is yellowtail tuna. Mercy.
Anyway, back to the hypothetical straw and camel: I've had the misfortune of riding behind some chicken trucks in my life, and every time it almost reduces me to tears. I saw an awful segment on the local news the other night where a farmer was talking about how you could buy a whole cow from him, you and your buddies, and they'd process the cow...as they were standing in the field with said cows milling around behind them! "You'll get good steaks and two sets of ribs..." It was horrifying to me. But the last straw was the wild turkey and babies that walked across the back yard up here on Allen Mountain the other day. I watched Mama Turkey checking the bushes before she let her babies follow her into the brush. The argument that turkeys (or chickens or cows) are dumb and that's why it's okay to eat them doesn't matter to me. It's a non-argument. Why do we eat some animals and not others? It was then and there that I decided I had to make a change.
I don't and won't begrudge my dog or my cat eating meat. Dogs can't live as vegetarians without a lot of extra work and care. Cats are carnivores. The way I'm looking at this is that my opposition to eating meat is because I have such a strong reverence for nature. I hope that everyone can support me in this decision, and that this time I can make some healthy choices as far as my food goes.
07 July 2011
Sleeping bag? Check. Bug Spray? Check. Word Processor? Check!
Yep, I'm at it again. I've shuffled off to Camp NaNoWriMo for July and August, with a hopeful goal of 100K written at the end of both months. So far (as of today) I'm about 300 words ahead of my target for the day, so I'm feeling pretty good, pretty inspired.
I know, you're horribly bored, but stick with me. It gets better.
The project for July is a YA novel called Mirror, Mirror. It is about faeries and Wales and all things good/evil twin, and I hope it will come out at the end of the month as more than just a bunch of bad Google Translate. Here's the working synopsis from the Camp website:
"Elisa has always been different. Ever since her twin sister Emma went missing when the girls were just 8, her life has been upside down. The loss of her twin followed by her parents' double suicide left her alone and in foster care until Gwen Morgan adopted her and took her to Wales to start a new life. But can she ever escape the life she left behind? The truth behind her sister's disappearance will lead her into a world even stranger and more deadly than she could have imagined."
I promise you loads of teen angst, unrequited love, and snappy puns to keep you entertained. What could be better? I'm thinking August's work will be a ghost story of some sort, but I'm not sure what yet. Following on the camp theme, I'm trying to remember all the awesome campfire ghost stories from my youth...maybe one of them will be the star in August!
And yes, for those still asking...I am insane. Thanks for your support. Wrimos, ho!
06 July 2011
There and Back again...and again...
Well, it has been two weeks shy of two months since I've seen that handsome devil in the picture with me (taken in May 2010 in York). I was losing hope that I'd see him before Christmas. I was losing my mind. I was losing my grip on politeness and definitely losing my composure.
Today we found a cheap flight...and now my world has righted a bit. I will be back in the UK to visit from 16-31 August. Back with no car. Back on the buses and trains and in taxis. Back at Sainsbury's and ASDA and eating at Nando's. Back right next to Mr. Dunne, and you'll be hard pressed to pull me away from him, at least not for very long.
I can't wait. I can't wait for the English voices on the tannoy. I can't wait for Daisy to be curled up on me on the sofa and Mills to be purring in my hair as I go to sleep at night. My family is the most important thing to me in the world, and I can't wait for all of us to be on the same continent, even if it is only for two weeks.
Roll on August!
Today we found a cheap flight...and now my world has righted a bit. I will be back in the UK to visit from 16-31 August. Back with no car. Back on the buses and trains and in taxis. Back at Sainsbury's and ASDA and eating at Nando's. Back right next to Mr. Dunne, and you'll be hard pressed to pull me away from him, at least not for very long.
I can't wait. I can't wait for the English voices on the tannoy. I can't wait for Daisy to be curled up on me on the sofa and Mills to be purring in my hair as I go to sleep at night. My family is the most important thing to me in the world, and I can't wait for all of us to be on the same continent, even if it is only for two weeks.
Roll on August!
26 June 2011
Reverse Homesickness on Allen Mountain
So it's been just over a month since I left my husband and critters and returned to the US, and I'd love to tell you that the weird reverse homesickness is gone and life is better than ever.
I'd love to tell you that, but I'd be lying.
For the most part, all of the sensory overload that IS life in America has died down to an acceptable level. I've had loads of freelance work, I've gotten a fabulous new (to me) car, and we've learned that the embassy is now processing petitions for immigrant visas filed just 30 short days prior to when ours was filed.
But there are still moments so awful, so loud, so unbearable that I find myself running into the virtual arms of online travel agencies, desperately searching for a flight to Manchester that I can afford.
While I'm on that topic, if anyone wants to loan me the dosh for a ticket, I wouldn't turn it down. Moving on...
I've had to make some big decisions this weekend about what path my life (and Simon's, bless him) is going to take here in the US, and I'm not sure that I've gotten it right but I think I'm at least facing the right way.
I do, however, desperately miss that little face in the picture up there. I went looking for her a brother this weekend, and thought I'd found the perfect dog, but on careful consideration (and once I'd gotten away from those big brown eyes) I'm not sure he's a good fit for my family, at least not while 3/4 of it is 4000 miles away.
So that's where we are so far. I'm here, I'm desperate to see my husband and critters, and I'm taking it one step at a time. How disturbingly grown up of me. When did THAT happen?
I'd love to tell you that, but I'd be lying.
For the most part, all of the sensory overload that IS life in America has died down to an acceptable level. I've had loads of freelance work, I've gotten a fabulous new (to me) car, and we've learned that the embassy is now processing petitions for immigrant visas filed just 30 short days prior to when ours was filed.
But there are still moments so awful, so loud, so unbearable that I find myself running into the virtual arms of online travel agencies, desperately searching for a flight to Manchester that I can afford.
While I'm on that topic, if anyone wants to loan me the dosh for a ticket, I wouldn't turn it down. Moving on...
I've had to make some big decisions this weekend about what path my life (and Simon's, bless him) is going to take here in the US, and I'm not sure that I've gotten it right but I think I'm at least facing the right way.
I do, however, desperately miss that little face in the picture up there. I went looking for her a brother this weekend, and thought I'd found the perfect dog, but on careful consideration (and once I'd gotten away from those big brown eyes) I'm not sure he's a good fit for my family, at least not while 3/4 of it is 4000 miles away.
So that's where we are so far. I'm here, I'm desperate to see my husband and critters, and I'm taking it one step at a time. How disturbingly grown up of me. When did THAT happen?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)