October 2002

Less than a Month

There is a 98% certainty that both Bester and Kehleyr (the female kitten formerly known as Byron) have both been adopted now. It's 100% certain for Kehleyr. Her new mom came over to look at her and fell deeper in love. She's been fixed today and I will be delivering her on Saturday. She's been a real sweetie, getting more and more socialized. I think she'll do well with her new family.

Bester is going to be looked at by my friend Sara. I'm pretty sure they are going to love him immediately. She will come over to see him on Saturday morning and if all goes well, will be taking him home with her then, too. He was so lovey last night while Kehleyr was gone. He purred continuously, sat on my shoulder, then curled up in my towel on the chair to be near me while he slept. I'm gonna miss him, too. But, I know Sara will take good care of him.

So... I may be kittenless as of Sunday. I will miss them a lot but it will give me time to do some serious cleaning in the back kitten area and the bathroom. That will be nice.

In less than a month, the November Novel Dare begins! I'm both excited and terrified at once. Too many "what if" questions. What if I don't finish? What if it sucks? What if my plot fizzles? I know it's my security talking and once we begin, I'll be right on track. I'm sure of it.

Staci and I have been chatting about writing. She is getting ready for the novel dare as well. We compared metaphors for a plot finally shaping up. She likened it to a puzzle. "You know the sorts of things you want to have happen, but you're not sure exactly how they fit together. It's like having all the pieces of a puzzle laid out before you but not knowing how to put them together. Then, someone shows you the box top and you say "Aha!" Me? I likened it to a map. "You're looking a map with no names, it's all vaguely familiar but nothing intimate. Then, you realize you've been looking at the map from the wrong perspective, turn it over and *wham* there is all is."

No matter the metaphor, the result is the same. A rush of adrenalin and creativity that leaves you scrambling for pen and paper. I absolutely adore that moment when it all just comes together and you know where the story is supposed to go. I have a basic idea of where my TTB is going but, as per the rules of the dare, I'm not going to do any serious plotting until November. I even have the novel's name - Finally. THAT is extremely exciting for me. It makes it more concrete. More real. I can see it in a book display in my mind's eye, even.

I've written novels before. Two of them, actually. But, neither of them was designed to be published from the get go. One was more like a personal diary. One was a gaming write up that turned into a thirty chapter novel. The former is actually being published, chapter by chapter now. The latter... unless I did some -serious- editing and rewriting, it will never see a publisher at all.

This one. This novel. My TTB that finally exploded after having it sit in my head, stewing, for about a year, is going to be my first attempt at getting a Sci-fi novel published. The stories are there in my head. The characters chatting back and forth around me while I commute. I just need to get the story out of my head and to the paper. I am writing this to be published.

That's why I'm doing the novel dare. Because I need the deadlines and daily goals. I've proven to myself that I need those things to do some of my best writing. I know this first draft is going to really suck. But, it'll be out there on the page. That's what matters in the dare. Quantity over Quality. Getting the story out and fixing the train wreck of diction, crappy metaphors and dangling whatevers later.

I'm excited. I almost can't wait. I'm reining myself in by only working on some of the surround universal constants, cultures and the like... that while important, aren't actually part of the story and won't explicitly come up. I just hope I can keep this excitement and momentum up throughout November.

Hmmmm... thinking of deadlines... my next Hucked Tankard tale is due in ten days. I should try to work on it this coming weekend to get it done and out of the way. Ditto on Doll 4: The Hunt. It's not due until the end of the month, but I figure I'm going to be distracted by the impending novel dare.

A lot is going on around me in my professional life that I recently discovered on a business trip up to Portland. Unfortunately, it's not the kind of stuff I really want to post here. So, if you are interested, ping me and I'll let you know what's up.

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Eight of Swords, Inverted

Wiggy

You all know that I don't really talk about my relationships here. Mostly out of deference to the men I'm dating and the men/women they are dating. The past couple of days have reaffirmed some of my own personal rules about polyamory. Polyamory isn't easy but when it works well, it is awesome. When it doesn't... well, things get a bit sticky. Case in point... in the last couple of days, I've gone from dating one man and possibly a second man to dating none. Not a fun thing for me.

In the first situation, I was the secondary of a guy. I'll call him Mark. Easier to use fake names and keep track of who's who for those of you who didn't know what was going on. Sunday, when I was seeing him, I mentioned that I was interested in dating a second guy. I'll call him Nick for this entry. One of my primary rules to polyamory is open, honest communication. I wanted to date Nick. Thus, I told this to my partner. I may be his secondary but that is no reason not to treat him with the same respect you'd give a primary.

Mark didn't take it too well, which surprised me because I'm his secondary. We discussed it back and forth. My second main rule is that the comfort zones of all partners must be met - including my own. After talking to him about this for a while, I discovered that part of his sudden possessiveness had to do with his primary starting to get wiggy about polyamory in general. Apparently, she has been increasingly interested in "settling down, getting married and have a more traditional relationship." This is something I hadn't know about.

In turn, Mark was starting to feel that if I got interested in someone else and less interested in him, he would loose me and his primary would no longer allow their relationship to be poly. It was clear to me that he did not want to loose his primary but, at the same time, he wanted to keep up a poly relationship. Much too complex and sticky for me. Finding out that Mark did not want me to date a second man at all - despite the fact that I only get to see him once or twice a month at most AND that his primary was getting wiggy about polyamory - something he had kept from me - was not a pleasant revelation at all.

I did the only thing I could do in that situation. I was the responsible adult and I broke it off with Mark. It hurt like hell to do so. But, it hurt more that both my top two rules were being knowingly violated. If he had told me that his primary was getting insecure, I would have gone to speak to her about it. I don't hide from that sort of thing. But, he didn't tell me and my second rule was broken. I suspect there will be more fall out to this but, all is quiet on that front for now.

Doesn't make it any easier on me, though. One of my confidantes is gone.

Turning the situation to Nick. He and I have been talking back and forth for a while. It is now blatantly and obviously clear to us that we are very attracted to one another. So, I brought up the subject of dating. For reasons far too complex and sticky for me to get into right now (especially since I don't have his permission to discuss it here), suffice it to say that despite what we want, we cannot and will not date. We have our boundaries and we're sticking to them for good reason.

I am of two minds on this one. Nick is an awesome guy. Fun, smart and attractive. Being "just" friends with him is treat. (As if being honest friends with someone is no big deal.) So, having a platonic relationship with him is almost as good as dating. Almost. The selfish part of me is whining over the irony of finding someone I'm attracted to, who is actually attracted to me as well and neither of us can/will do anything about it. Ah, well. Such is life.

It's funny. I don't require being in a poly relationship. For me, it's more that I have so much going on my life that I don't really have time for a 'full-time' boyfriend and want him to be happy when I'm not with him. As long as his attention is on me when we are together, I really don't mind what else he does in his personal life.

Thus, I'm not dating anyone anymore. I'm sorry to have lost my relationship with Mark and I am happy to have my friendship with Nick. So, there you go. That's my scorecard for now.

Just so this entry just isn't about my soap opera life, on the writing front, The Ultimatum and Doll 2: The Bath are both up at Mistress Abby's site. I just finished the latest Hucked Tankard piece for Campaign magazine - Beneath Blackthorn Battlements, 2120 words. I've started on Doll 4: The Hunt and I'm already obsessing about the TTB for the novel dare.

On the good side of things, I think I figured out the interplanetary and interstellar modes of travel for my TTB. I just have to talk to my favorite physics guys, Howard and Yony, about my unorthodox idea and see if there is -any- basis in reality for my idea or if I'll be running on Paramounticals. Not that the FM approach to technology is bad in my book.

My characters seem to know that I'm getting ready for the dare. They are keeping me up at night, having interesting conversations with one another. I'm just hoping they keep it up throughout the Dare.

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Seven of Cups, Inverted

Obsessions

From my Live Journal...
I recently did one of those silly surveys on LiveJournal which had the question: "The Force is strong with you. What are the chances the Dark Side will dominate your destiny?" I answered, "Not real good, honestly. I'm too nice to be of the Dark Side. I'd regret it."

M'ris took exception to my answer and after some thought, I think she's right. It's not the fact that I'm nice that would stop me from going to the Dark Side. It's an internal moral code. One that has nothing to do with right and wrong and everything to do with fear. Fear of the loss of control of myself and who I am.

No. Seriously. I'm looking at a Willow [from Buffy: the Vampire Slayer] situation every time I am faced with something that could be addicting; that could make everything easier at the cost of control. It's always the good girls who go so bad and no one ever sees it coming because they were always so nice, so proper, so responsible.

I know I have an addictive personality. It's why, despite my desire to so, I have never actually tried illicit drugs. It's not the fear of getting caught. It's not the fear of doing wrong. It's the fear of liking it too much and being unable to stop myself from wanting more. (There's also the fear that the drug would do absolutely nothing for me. But, that is a quirk for another time.)

I think accepting the power of the Dark Side would give the same rush that a drug would have. It would be addicting and I would lose control of myself. I would lose who I am. People admire me for my strong will and for my self control. They have no idea why I hold myself rigidly nor the fear I hide of what would happen if I were to forget myself and simply let it all go.

Pondering the above, I realized that I have sublimated my addictive personality by having my "obsessions." I joke that I can have only one obsession at a time. These days, that's not necessarily true. First, it was to become debt free. Then, to loose weight - which was interrupted by obsessing over buying a house (which fizzled) then breaking my leg. Later, I after moved into my own place - which I absolutely adore - I started on the loosing weight thing again.

Now, I'm working both loosing weight and being published. The two obsessions, I have discovered, do not have to be mutually exclusive and this is a good thing. I know what my next obsession will be as well: Investigating the religious and spiritual realms and coming to some conclusions. I keep bouncing around the subject but never really diving into it because more of my energy is focused on the weight loss and the writing I'm doing now. But, it is there. Just waiting. Sometimes impatiently. (It remembers my time in Portland and what went on there.)

But, in thinking about all this, I realize my intense focus in going after those things I want - or those things that improve who I am - is a productive use of my addictive personality. By focusing my obsessive energies on something like writing or weight loss instead of online gaming or drugs, I am sating my addictive needs while doing something good for myself.

It's kind of a strange realization to discover that you have been using one of your own personal flaws in a productive and beneficial manner for yourself. Almost ironic and amusing.

Continuing on the path of strange and vivid dreaming. 2002.10.08 - Psyche Ward - During a party at a Sci-fi convention, one of my friends goes a little nuts and I have to stop them. Then, after hearing why, I am forced to admit my best friend into a psyche ward.

A fairly disturbing little dream for me. Though, at least it is a dream I can actually post online. The last couple have been so disturbing/embarrassing for me (and possibly for the other people involved) that I haven't posted them online. The vividness of these dreams is remarkable. The content is often extremely emotional.

I know I'm not the only one with vivid dreams. People all over the world (via journals) have been remarking about their vivid dreams lately. I seem to vaguely recall that the same thing happened about this time last year. Maybe it is something cyclic, involving the Fall.... or the coming holidays... or, in some cultures, the death of this year and the birth of the new one.

Saturday night, after visiting with friends during the day, then dinner with other friends, I found myself with an excess of energy from an unknown source. Not one to waste such boons - plus I wasn't in a mood to write - I decided to exercise. Yes. At 9pm at night.

You see, I rediscovered an exercise tape. One I had never actually used before. It was still in the shrink wrap. It was Richard Simmons "Dance Your Pants Off" VHS tape. I must have got it because it was full of fun 80's songs. I popped it in and learned a few things.

1. I don't care what Richard Simmons says, that tape is NOT for everyone. My poor arthritic knees got a serious beating. It was very high impact even though it didn't mention that anywhere on the tape.

2. I am an uncoordinated git. My goodness, Mr. Simmons does very little in the way of instruction of the exercises in the video and says things like, "Ok, now, bat wings!" or "Time for victory arms!" without any explanation of what these movements are. I spent half the tape flailing around like a fish out of water, trying to first, figure out what the move was and second, get on rhythm with the tape.

3. My arm are really, really out of shape. Besides the knee issue, the lower workout wasn't anything. But, the arms... Ow! Ow! Ow! I need to start doing something for that ASAP.

4. I have a decent stamina. I didn't have a problem keeping up with the tape on an aerobic level. I made it through the hour without much strain breath-wise. I guess all that walking has been helping.

5. Richard Simmons has a really annoying voice. Seriously. Every time he spoke, it was like nails on a chalkboard. Plus, I found his supportive "encouragement" to be both saccharine and condescending. No, thanks. I don't need that.

Decision: Not going to use this tape again. I think I'll go find my Gilad low impact work out tape. Besides, he's much cuter than Mr. Simmons. Also, I really need to start adding weights or exercises for my arms. I can deal with not being coordinated but not being able to wave my arms around like I was supposed to without fatigue/pain was down right embarrassing.

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Two of Wands, Inverted

Struggles of the Heart and Mind

On Thursday, I did the whole beauty thing... waxing from the eyebrows down (ow!) to turning my hair purple. Well, more purple than last time. Next time, purple concentrate on the ends. One of the other things I did was talk about some of the internal struggles I was/am dealing with to my waxist, Diane.

Diane is about 60 and has thumbs from Hell (but that's another story). She has a good grasp on reality while understanding the metaphysical - not to mention logic versus emotions. She is also as blunt as a club to the back of your favorite head. I told her about the struggle between my heart and my mind. The choice of staying here with new friends/companions or moving to Portland - where I've wanted to live for ages but am afraid of being alone again.

I told her some of my romantic situation and she was very blunt. "He's told you were he stands. He's already laid it on the line when you two first met. It's in his heart, no matter if he seems to be waffling now. You -know- that. As for the other one... no. Don't do it. You can't go back. It will never be the same again." These were things I needed to hear even though I desperately wanted to hear something else. He -has- told me and I can't go back not matter how much I would like.

"Go to Portland. You will find new friends. They already exist and are waiting for you. They just don't know it. This is one of those times you need to follow your head instead of your heart. Remember... it was Portland in your heart long before those two men." She's right. But, God! I wish I could just follow my heart for once - even knowing how much it would end up hurting because... maybe, just maybe... this time would be different.

I'm so afraid of being alone again. I like my solitude... or did... until my need for quiet companionship was reawakened by these two men. One, I dated for a few months. One, I am good friends with and spend hours in friendly, silly, serious, platonic conversation about ... everything and nothing. It has been so good to just relax, leaning against someone, talking. To have comfortable silences... I'm afraid of losing that. It took me -years- to find these two. I don't want to go years again without companionship. I don't want to shut down my heart again. I don't want to be alone.

Part of me wants work to take the choice from my hands and say "No. We aren't transferring you." But, I know that won't happen. If I push it, I can make it happen. I need to decide soon. I am so torn. Thinking of returning to Portland, my mind and heart are filled with joy as a glass is filled with water. Portland is the top place in my personal top five places to live. (Portland, Boulder, Boston, Seattle, Chicago.) Then, I remember that I can't/won't be taking those dearest to my heart with me. That my dream of the Great Gamer Migration is nothing more than a dream because I doubt very few of those I care for could or would be willing to move from the Bay Area. Very few people I know actually follow through on future plans laid. How could I expect any of them to move from the security of their home territory into the great unknown?

I know I will follow my mind. I know it. I'm too damn practical not to. Even though my heart is breaking at the thought of it, part of me is remembering the welcoming feeling Portland always gives me when I am there. The optimist in me... whose voice is very small right now... reminds me that just as I have made new friends and companions so recently, I can and will do it again. It also reminds me that, perhaps, I will be the forerunner in the GG migration. Perhaps, all that is needed is that one person to brave the unknown alone to help the rest follow.

It hurts, this struggle between my heart and mind. But, I suppose, it is a good sign. It proves that I have enough life in me to still care. I have not given up on my heart nor resigned myself back to the solitude I once hid in and convinced myself I enjoyed.

More Dreamage... 2002.10.16 - Do Over - In a direct response to some recent drama that caused a good evening to end on a sour note, my mind decided to give me a much more pleasant movie-like ending to my evening.

I find this dream kind of amusing. It's been a while since I did the slow motion thing to a soundtrack. It was a short, sweet dream that was directly to the point with no odd messages in it. It's rare that my dreams simply are what they seem to be. I'm also amused at the child-like satisfaction my dream mind felt for its handy work as the dream ended. Though, it was a good fantasy ending for that evening. Even I have to admit that.

On the writing front, all I have left for this month (that I know of) is a grant letter thingy for M'ris and finishing in Doll 4: The Hunt. The former is something I've never done before... so, it should be interesting. We'll see. The latter is stubbornly refusing to flow. It won't come to mind how I can write this story in a way that keeps the reader in the Hunt and leaves them breathless. I'd better figure out something soon. The deadline is approaching and I'm really busy for the rest of the month.

I just realized that I need to do Doll 5 and a Hucked Tankard tale in the middle of the novel dare... in the middle of work crunch time... Yes, I am insane. I must be. I can't think of any other explanation for my masochistic insistence on still doing this dare, despite the mounting obstacles. Ah, well. At least, I have one friend who is planning support runs of Mountain Dew and Cheetos to me. *grin* Not only that... he's offered back rubs! Woo-hoo!

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Four of Pentacles

We're all fine here... How are you?

I've been going through a bad time emotionally lately. But, I think I'm getting better now. I vented at ChrisB this weekend and splattered my LiveJournal with some of my roiling emotions in an unconscious need for validation (permission to be depressed without guilt) and attention (people to tell me they care).

I wasn't disappointed. I received some of the most kind, generous and sweet emails from my friends letting me know that it was OK, it would be OK and that they cared. I got one from Rich that had (and still has) me in tears when I read it. It is just that heartfelt. I even got reassurances from unexpected quarters. David and Lori both responded to me with posts and emails that just melted my heart. Especially David since he was channeling Jake in a gruff, blunt and caring manner.

I'm smiling again. It's good to smile. People do care and I am allowed to be human.

It's funny how just hearing that people really care can make you feel better than any medicine could. I mean, you know it's true in your head - all that logic. But, the heart needs the reassurance. It needs to hear it. The heart is more fragile than the mind. It needs the maintenance of love and friendship. I guess, I was ignoring my need until it all blew up in my face. I really have to get better at reading myself.

My emotional troubles has had some unexpected side effects as well. Like, being frightened of getting into trouble for doing my job as a QA engineer.

Historically, in many companies, there is an extremely adversarial relationship between Engineering and QA. Not so at my company. We are really big on quality. It's one of our main points over all our competitors. We are high quality software. I have a certain amount of pride for making this so. I have stopped builds from being released due to quality. I have stood on desks to get some of my bugs fixed. I thrive on making things better. It's just the way I am.

However, Tuesday, I found a bug that broke the build hardcore. Literally stopped testing and made the Principle Architect think he was going to have to do some hoodoo-voodoo magic to the database to get it to recover. This bug was frighteningly easy to do as well. But, instead of being proud of finding this bug because of my ability to think in an oblique manner in order to probe and kill software, I was terrified that I would get in trouble for breaking the build and forcing a halt to the testing.

I was/am totally confused at my emotional state - literally shaking with fear and adrenalin. I talked to the one co-worker I have that I've become friends with outside of work about it. (That, in and of itself, is something to talk about sometime - but later.) He likened it to me finding stolen diamonds, returning them to the police and being terrified that the police, in turn, would accuse me of stealing them in the first place. It's a good analogy.

I'm better today. I've stopped being so nervous. I'm back to pounding the software with my usual fervor. But, I'm still working out why I freaked out over this. Why, when I did exactly right, was my internal critic shouting at me that I had messed up in a horrible way? The worst part about all this? The nameless dread. I cannot even start to vocalize what happened to me internally. I can't explain it logically. I can't even say why I thought I would get in trouble.

It's a strange and vexing situation. I pride myself on having control of me, who I am and how I'm feeling. Even if I can't control my emotions, there is a certain control in my personal analysis of them, understanding why I feel the way I do. Tuesday, there was no control and no understanding. There still isn't and that is what bothers me most. How can I fix me if I can't even figure out what's wrong?

On the writing front, Doll 4 is still languishing but I've promised myself to force something out of me tonight if it kills me. Once I have something down, I can go back to do the crafting and pacing of the prose. Kind of like a sculptor with clay. Gotta get the lump of clay there before you can shape it into a work of art.

My mind is already anticipating NaNoWriMo. The Imperium has been named and my mind is working out dates and times and such. In a funny way, I'm having to do an awful lot of math and physics research to get ready for the dare. I supposed that's because I want some sort of basis in reality for my fantasy. I've always been practical like that.

For example, I want Maureen's birthday to land on a certain day of the Standard Galactic calendar. Problem is, the Standard Galactic year is 305 days with each day being 25 hours. So, correlating a particular day from a year of 365.25 days with each day at 24 hours isn't exactly easy. If I say that Maureen's birthday is on the 3rd day of the Reunion Feast of the Standard Galactic calendar (which is the 303rd day of the SG year), I have a way of figuring out what the actual date of the storyline is if I want to go through the work of correlating her birthday with the SG calendar, then fast forwarding it the appropriate amount of time of her age.

In the book, there is a computer that's going to do this in the blink of an eye. They are going to enter her Terran birth date and it's going to spit out what the corresponding SG calendar date was. Which means someone could get a wild hair and decide to see if the correspondence was pulled out of thin air or if the author (me) actually did the math to make it all work. Which is what I want to do - make it all work and have the correct corresponding dates.

I think I'm going to have to figure it out based on hours per year rather than days per year since the day definitions are not equal but the hour definitions are.

I finally heard from my mom on the news that I'm not going to make it to North Carolina for the holiday season at all this year. She's only disappointed and not mad. *whew* I was worried for a bit. Seems that life has kept her really busy lately and she just didn't get a chance to respond. I'm glad she made time. She let me know that Dad had his sleep study and it was discovered that he had severe sleep apnea. (On the night of the study, he apparently stopped breathing something like 209 times during the evening.) Now, he sleeps with a machine that regulates his breathing and his energy is returning.

In other family news, my sister wrote me to let me know that she tested positive for "the antibodies that can cause thyroiditis [hypo-thyroid] or Grave's disease [hyper-thyroid]." Nothing too dangerous but it is indicative that this sort of thing runs in the family and I'm going to have to get checked out for it. Since these things always come in threes, I'm waiting for news from my brother or his wife dealing with their health. I'm hoping I don't hear anything or, if I do, it isn't so bad.

Sometimes, it's hard to acknowledge you are getting older. That your friends and family are getting older, too. That health issues will crop up more and more often due to age, life, living and blind luck. That you aren't as young as you think you are. You know, most of the time, this doesn't bother me. I guess it was hearing about all of this at the same time.

Strangely enough... I feel fine.

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Nine of Wands, Inverted

Personal Rituals

This past weekend, I went to La Fondue with GregE, David, Jaffa, Ben and Sage. We had a very good time. But, one of the best things was the fact that I got to try a new wine that I -really- liked. It was Nivole, a Muscat D'Asti. A light dessert wine that isn't too sweet and doesn't have the 'wine' bite. Oh, I was heaven, sipping it and eating the white chocolate/amaretto dessert fondue. Man, what a good wine. I had to look it up on the web to see if it can be bought locally. It seems to be available but I'm now going to have to go search it out.

It was really good seeing Sage again after two years. He's promised to hook up with me and take me out the next time I'm up in Portland over night. I'm really looking forward to that. He's always interesting and engaging. Not to mention the kind of guy who knows where all of the neat spots of the city are.

Rare and wonderful compliments from my friends are always so appreciated. Saturday, while we were talking about how getting older isn't so back, Rich mentioned to me that I have changed a lot in this last year. I seem happier and much more confident in myself and my abilities. I agree with him. He told me that he was proud of me for this. It was neat. I know some people feel that it is corny to say "I'm proud of you." Or to hear that from someone. I don't. Especially not from Rich. He's pretty much become a big brother to me. Someone who picks on me when he thinks I need it but backs off when it's harmful. He's protective of me and he cares what I think about. I appreciate that more than words can say. It's very good to have someone who feels like family to me near since none of my family are close to me physically or in understanding.

I'm getting ready to go into NaNoWriMo. One thing that means is that I won't be writing in my journal as much. I've learned that I can't do a lot of fiction writing AND do decent Abstract Thoughts entries. I'm going to be shooting a weekly entry to catch people up on my progress as well as everything else going on in my life.

I'll admit that I'm both nervous and excited to be doing this and I'm trying hard not to psyche myself out by thinking too hard about the storyline. When I do that, I end up half talking myself out of what I've decided to do. Granted, there are some issues to my story now. For example, I haven't decided which secondary character is "the bad guy"... though, as I was writing that last sentence, I had a startling idea that I just might fly with. *heh* I love it when that happens. The other issue is the fact that I'm not sure at what point the story should end. I guess I'll have to see how the writing goes.

To everyone: I'm not abandoning you. Well, ok. I am. For a little bit. It's not because I don't love you. It's because I'm going to be up to my elbows in novel writing. I'll still make it to the Buffy nights for sure. Other events will depend on what my word count for the day it. I'm going to shoot for the 2000 words/day goal.

We all have personal rituals. Oh, we may not acknowledge or recognize the habitual things we do as 'rituals' per se... but, in essence, that is what they are. Something that one does that in a quiet way that acknowledges the Unseen/Unknown/Spiritual.

Me, I have begun to create my own personal rituals to feed my Spirit and its needs. Mostly, these rituals are reminiscent of sympathetic magic and are very symbolic for me. The one ritual that I do that is the most clearly a "ritual" for me is my ritual of "Release/Cleansing." It is something I try to do whenever I have a chance to visit the ocean.

What I like to do is to sit down and write out those things that I want to release from myself - specific fears, pains, jealousies, hates and the like. I hand write them on paper because it causes me to concentrate on the action thus, on that which I am writing. It gives me a feel of imbuing the paper with what I wish to be released from.

Next, after a time of meditation - usually Prana-yama based in 4, 6, and 8 count cycles - I read what I have written aloud, acknowledge that the emotion/pain/etc... is present within me. Then, I release it from me by burning the paper. I do this over and over until I have released each thing from me, cleansing myself spiritually.

The final step is to gather the ashes of the burned paper together for when I visit the ocean, to open the container and let the ocean winds grasp and scatter the ashes. Sort of a releasing of the emotions to the sea to be cleansed.

I try to do this ritual on or Significant days. Not necessarily significant to others. Days like August 1st which as become my own personal New Year. Sometimes on the Sabbaths. Sometimes on personal anniversary dates. Sometimes... I do it when I am feeling overburdened with emotions.

It is a simple ritual but one that I appreciate. The ritual often takes 2-3 days. One day for the writing. One for the burning and a third day for the releasing. There is a sense of satisfaction as I burn the paper, smelling the paper smoke interweaving with the scent of incense. Once all the paper is burned and the emotions acknowledged and released there is a sense of release. Finally, allowing the ocean winds to take the ashes from me gives me that final sense of cleansing.

Thanks to a friend of mine, I'm going to have a chance to do this ritual this coming weekend. I'm really looking forward to it. This will be the perfect thing to start my novel dare.

OCTOBER'S JOURNAL SPOTLIGHT: Interior Regions, Dissonant Voices by Staci. Staci and I became friends while I was StoryPlotting on Marrach. She is one of the historical authors of Marrach and responsible for much of the story there. She is a mother of two and a technical writer. We have many discussions on writing and the art therein. She is an intelligent, savvy woman who intimately understands my need to write because she shares the same passion. Her journal is new but that doesn't mean that there aren't gems of wisdom within already. She is well worth a look or three.

Tarot Card for the Day: Temperance