<< - >>

#272 - (not so) quick update
04/25/02 @ 2:08 pm

Yo! Nope, I'm not "taking a break" from Diaryland, which seems to be sooo popular with people around here. I'm just a busy little bee! Stuff going on with me, and buzzing around in my head that I wish I could talk about but I don't have the time right now:

� I am doing a major re-design of my personal website. It really needs it. Broken links are driving me crazy, layout is now bugging me, etc. There are over 50 pages of content, so it will take me awhile, once I finally decide on a layout. Photoshop is a bitch to learn, dammit.

� I have been having circular arguments with myself on revealing my identity to you all. I really want to, but I've finally decided against it for 2 reasons: my husband's privacy, & the innocent minds of my husband's family. While I would love to reveal myself to you all, I do not wish to talk about my husband and have you know who he is. And even if I had that permission, I don't want my husband's family knowing about this diary, which might happen if I reveal myself. Our nieces have access to my website, as does his conservative family. Part of me dreams of the day that I become a published adult-novelist and I can blare out to them and the rest of the world that yes, I have a DIRTY MIND!!! But I doubt that day will ever come. *sigh*

� I had a strange dream that I discovered where neptunebaby got her 2nd diary name, Perfect Pisces, and it was similar to find out that the answer to life, the universe, and everything is "42".

� I've also had strange dreams about my siblings. Last night's involved a blizzard and my brother being a psycho. Funny, but that's how he is in real life!!

� I am obsessed with teenie-bopper girlie websites & dolls. I made a cute lil button inspired by these so you can all slap something up on your webpage/diary to link to my diary. It's at home though, and since I'm writing this at work, I might have to post the image later.

� Music is cool. It triggers memories for me like nothing else can. I finally got my Christmas present portable hard drive set up at work, and have a playlist of 2213 songs. Lots of 80s stuff that brings up interesting memories. I am currently listening to "Video Kid" by Klymaxx ("I Miss You"). I just die laughing when I hear their stuff. I was 13 when they put their album out. Soooooooooo funny!

� On Monday afternoon I am going to West Seattle to tour an after-school program that's looking for volunteers. I have no desire to drive to West Seattle once or twice a week, but they need the volunteers the most. I can't wait to get my toes wet with kids. I think it will be fun.

� I wonder if I'm a racist because every time I think of this school I picture a room full of black kids watching this white chick walk in and wonder what the hell I'm doing there. I am intimidated by large groups, so while I don't like to be conformist, the larger the group, the more I want to conform. And my mind is working over time trying to psych me out by telling me I can never fit in with a room of black kids.

� My husband isn't having a good time at work lately. I am worried about him. I am worried about what will happen if he breaks and decides he has to quit.

� I reorganized our bathroom. Nifty. You can actually find stuff in there now. I really hate not having a medicine cabinet! Our architect-landlord was insane when he designed this apartment. Have I mentioned that the toilet is raised in a little alcove, so it looks like a THRONE? Yep, he's a psycho. Everyone marvels at the apartment when they first see it though, which is way cool. Now it's just too small though.

� I still want a house. We're still not looking yet.

� My therapist is not concerned at all at the thought of me getting pregnant/becoming a parent. She says the desire is healthy, and I'm very aware of all the things going on with me that need to be worked on, which is very helpful in therapy, and will make parenting easier. She said I should stop stressing about being a bad mother. I'm really starting to agree with her. I'm very aware of all the things that were done to me as a child and how not to do them myself. I'm very aware of the things that I like and don't like about my husband's family, and how to incorporate/combat those elements. I think we would be excellent parents, but very frazzled, just like everyone else.

� I am a horrible friend. I really want to reach out to some people that I haven't talked to in awhile and say hello, but I never think of these things when I'm near my computer with their addresses! Part of this may be because of a dream I had this week (or the dream was inspired by these thoughts?) that I have brought on this end result of not many friends, because I obsess on not having many friends. I totally think this is bizarre and doesn't make any sense, but it shows that people are on my mind and I need to make more of an effort to reach out.

� I love working on the new site. I eat less. I'm not bored. I'm good at it. I just wish I was artistically enclined. I've found some amazing sites with people's personal artwork, and I'm just blow away at the talent out there in the 18-22 age range. It's beautiful, and I am so envious. I can't even get fucking photoshop to make a curved frame, let alone draw a pretty lady. *sigh*

� I've been thinking about my "novel" alot. Because my song playlist has alot of the music that I wrote most of it to. One album in particular makes me think of Scott, the male lead, with so much longing, it's frightening. I wish I could just go in there and finish it up. But all inspiration for it seems to have died. And I don't seem particularly motivated to write anything else. Part of me thinks that it's just because I think all my ideas are lame. I told myself a year or so ago that I wouldn't care about that. I would write anyway. Even if the finishing up of the novel was lame, at least I'd have something. Not publishable, but finished. I try to apply that to other ideas. But something else always seems more interesting/pressing, and I never do write anything anymore. I can't remember the last time I worked on any fiction. It bothers me that there's nothing artistic in my life, especially experiencing so much all music, words, and images every day that I stand in awe of. I always wanted to do something artistic over anything else. And when I discovered I wasn't artistically or musically enclined, I settled on words. Maybe the diary is bad for that. Maybe I put too many words in here, so I don't have the energy, inclination, motivation to write fiction. I always hoped it would motivate me. My favorite high school teacher had us write in a diary every day for creative writing, just so we would write. He seemed to think that was good to get the creative juices going. And at the time I thought it was too. Now, I just don't know what's going on with me. More evidence of my underlying opinion that I'm intrinsically lazy, I guess. My therapist doesn't believe this, but I see the ways I act and feel in situations, and I can't help but think it. I hate work. I would rather surf the net than most anything else. I would rather write html because I can just go and go and go, coz it's like math - there's no writer's block, just answers that are hard to find until you work through it.

Damn. Wrote too much, and not enough. I'm sure there's more buzzing around in my head, but I went into details where I wasn't planning to, and now I'm out of time with lunch. If anyone out there has the time and inclination to read & critique a 4/5 finished novel, let me know. I'm horrible at receiving criticism though. But maybe just getting it out there will inspire me to do something. Don't want to fuss with it until after I'm done with my site re-design though. I really wish you all could experience it when it's done. I'm getting tired of all the secrecy. Grr. Love you all. xox

last - next