Huzzah!

Would it surprise you to learn that I have a sticker on the back of my car that says, "Huzzah!" It shouldn't. I found it at Colonial Williamsburg, and I snatched that baby right up. I wanted it on a t-shirt, but couldn't find it, so settled for this.

And why am I saying "Huzzah!" right now?

Because the first draft of the class paper is done. Oh my. This paper has tormented me from the start. My original outline promised a book-length treatise of my subject, which simply wouldn't work. So I had to narrow. And then narrow some more. And then cry - literally - because I'd start to overthink the entire process and thus, didn't even want to tackle the thing.

Of course, quitting wasn't an option (tempting, though). 

But tonight, I finally managed to crank out the conclusion. I'm not thrilled with the paper, but we'll see what my classmates and professors think. Then, it'll be time to edit it. 

It's been a hard semester, and I've struggled to try and figure out if grad school is still something I'm really passionate about doing. 

Life is short. Shouldn't we spend our time doing what we love? I know we all have jobs and need to make money to pay the bills...but I don't want to be pursuing a path that isn't the right one for me.

So. I'll be spending my December vacation from school thinking about what I truly want to do with my life.

As the illustration says, it's okay if we do something that doesn't work...at least we tried. At least we know. 

And that's what matters.

This Must Stop

Another mass shooting in the United States, only days after the last one.

This time, it was at a Wal-Mart in Virginia. According to early news reports, at least six people are dead.

Six lives lost.

Six people looking forward to spending time with friends and family on Thanksgiving.

This. Must. End.

Mass shootings in America are so common now that they no longer shock us. Nowhere is safe. Malls, shopping centers, movie theaters, schools, bars and clubs...NOWHERE IS SAFE.

I'm sickened by the gun culture of this country, and I'm sickened by our political leaders' refusal to do anything about it. One party tries, and the other party blocks it. There is no compromise, no discussion. People are literally dying over this issue and even that cannot unite us?

This sickness within our society has made me seriously look at moving overseas. No country is completely safe, but I don't have to worry about getting shot while out shopping or going to the movies or any other public activity in several other countries. 

Why is the Second Amendment being abused like this? I'm not going to go into the whole "it's my right to own a gun." Fine. But your right to own a gun doesn't overrule my right to live. No one - I repeat NO ONE - outside the military needs to own an AR-15, the gun that is used for the majority of mass shootings. You don't need an AR-15 to keep varmints off your land (I grew up on a farm - we never, ever had an AR-15!). 

We have a gun problem in this country. Some people will try and say it's a mental health problem, and that is absolutely part of the equation, but it is not the only part. There are steps we can take, but the gun culture refuses to even consider them. 

I don't know what to do anymore. I write to my representatives in Congress and they. don't. care. They do not care that people are dying. 

What have we come to?

Monday Musings

Marilyn Monroe in a Thanksgiving pinup!

I find I don't have much to say this evening.

The day went by rather slowly. I fought to stay awake, knowing that if I took a nap I'd be worthless at class tonight. My body craves sleep most of the time - that's the reality of living with chronic fatigue syndrome - and lately I've been trying to indulge that craving. When I don't, I usually end up in a flare. I'm a little worried that might happen tomorrow.

Still, class went well this evening, and I was able to have a nice chat with two of my classmates afterwards. That's one of the things I love about grad school - making friends with people who love history just as much as I do.

We'll be spending Thanksgiving at home this week - just me, my daughter, and my boyfriend. On Friday, we'll head over to my brother's house. I'm looking forward to that as I adore my nieces and nephew - they're all under the age of 7, so the place usually bursts with energy.

I find myself missing the holidays of the past, when we usually went to my grandmother's house, or we hosted Thanksgiving at my parents' place. Lots of good food, family, and laughter. Now, with everyone grown up, with their own families, and living in different parts of the state, it's hard to get everyone together. We try but are not always successful.

I'm both excited about decorating for Christmas and dreading it because it takes a lot of energy - energy I do not have. But as I'm in a different house this year, I will get to decorate it however I want in new-to-me ways. That's always fun. Plus, I have a fireplace so I can actually hang up the stockings on the mantle! 

The semester is almost over - which means I can start to focus on my fiction again. I'm quite looking forward to it.  

The Wonderful Barbara Stanwyck

Some of the first classic movies I ever watched starred the wonderful Barbara Stanwyck. I loved her spunk and spirit as Molly Monahan in the 1939 western Union Pacific, and I adored her street-savvy, wise-cracking gangster's girlfriend Sugarpuss O'Shea in Ball of Fire. Not only could she play comedy, but she could play drama equally well, and she just captured my attention whenever she was onscreen.

It wasn't until years later that I realized why I so loved Barbara Stanwyck: it was and is because she reminds me of my beloved grandmother.

This is my grandmother when she was young: 

Grandma is on the left!

Wasn't she absolutely beautiful? And here, for comparison, is Barbara Stanwyck.

Maybe it's just me...but I sure do think they look similar. And the similarities don't stop there. Barbara Stanwyck was known for being a bit of a firecracker, taking charge of her career and being a strong woman. My grandmother was the strongest woman I've ever known. Fierce. Independent. And so full of love.

I lost my grandmother four years ago and I feel her loss every day. Our relationship was special - we loved talking about old movie stars, politics, the state of the world, and anything and everything under the sun. She was whip smart, and started using a computer and the Internet in her 70s and 80s. She wasn't about to let technology pass her by. Even so, we'd still handwrite letters to each other, and I saved them all. 

She was my champion, my confident, and one of my very best friends 

That's why sometimes I will put on a Barbara Stanwyck film and feel just a little bit closer to my grandmother. I like to think that they have become fast friends in the afterlife.

The Magic of Community

I am a huge fan of classic movies. My go-to channel is Turner Class Movies (TCM), and there's a community of classic movie fans on Twitter who use the hashtag #TCMParty to tweet about whatever movie is airing on TCM. 

Tonight, after a very exhausting day of dealing with yet another flare, I watched two of my favorite classic Christmas movies that were airing on TCM: Christmas in Connecticut (1945) and The Bishop's Wife (1947). 

Watching them while live-tweeting with other classic movie fans was exactly what I needed. The movies themselves bring immense joy, but sharing that joy and appreciation with others just makes it all the better. 

This is the power of social media: community. And when you're stuck at home with a chronic illness and unable to be out with friends, or would rather stay at home, warm and cozy, yet share your interests with others, social media can be an absolute lifesaver. I've created a wonderful community of folks on Twitter, not only with classic movies, but also with other historians and other writers. That's why I hope Twitter doesn't implode because I will deeply miss it.

Blogging once offered me the same type of community, and while many of those friends migrated to Twitter or Facebook where we continued our relationship, I lost touch with a number of others. But I guess that's just life, isn't it? Some college and high school friends, past co-workers, and other acquaintances have faded out of my life, and I'm sure some people I know now will do the same. 

Community has always been very important for me. Sharing my interests with others only deepens my knowledge and bonus, creates amazing friendships!

Finding Joy in the Little Things

I've always taken great pleasure in finding joy in the little things. Life is, after all, made up of little moments and inconsequential things that add up to precious memories. Grand vacations, spectacular parties, and other big occasions are obviously causes for joy, but I would rather find contentment in the so-called "mundane" aspects of life.

Tonight, for example, my boyfriend lit a fire in the fireplace, and we worked on a puzzle while my daughter
played a video game. The pets joined us, and it was cozy and calm and wonderful. I need those simple moments in my life.

Every night, I usually pop up a small bag of popcorn (only 100 calories - ha!), have a few squares of dark chocolate, and a Diet Pepsi. Yes, it's nothing big, but oh how I look forward to it all day long. 

Other things I find joy in...

• Walking. When the weather allows it, I walk outside. I enjoy listening to the birds, and soaking in the sounds of nature.
• Bird watching. I have bird feeders outside my back window, and I love to see them chattering and scattering seed everywhere.
• Jigsaw puzzles. I started doing this two years ago, and have since finished several puzzles. I have them framed so I can enjoy them forever.
• Watching classic movies. I am obsessed with movies from the 1940s through the early 1960s. I have an impressive DVD collection. Heh.
• Hanging out with my adult daughter. We often stay up late gabbing about anything and everything.
• Reading a good book. Really, there's nothing like escaping into another world, whether its fiction or nonfiction.
• Having my cat snuggle on my lap. The funny thing is that Slick never snuggled with me until about two years ago. 
• Collecting Snoopy items. I've managed to amass quite the collection and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.
• Taking pictures of my dog, Blitz. He's so photogenic and brings me immense happiness.

Those are but a few examples of the little things that bring me joy. I have many, many more!

What brings you joy?

On Being Real

 I know not many people are reading this blog. That's okay. I'm really doing this more as a way for me to commit to a daily writing practice. It's part of my journey toward finding a way back to my inner writer.

Thus, many of these posts aren't going to the most inspiring, or the funniest, or the most thought-provoking because well, my life isn't like that. They're also not going to be edited much. What I write for the first draft is probably what you're going to get. It's how I'm trying to get rid of the inner editor. 

What but this blog is going to be is real. .

So what's real about today? 

I went and did about an hour and a half of shopping. Nothing too strenuous. I went to one store and bought a gorgeous new comforter for my bed, another store to look for a candle, and then decided to get a few groceries. After returning home, I washed the bedding, made the bed (which should be an Olympic sport trying to wrestle a fitted sheet on a mattress), and did the dishes. After that? I was utterly exhausted.

There is grief in having a chronic illness. Many people can go to work, run errands during lunch time, go back to work, maybe hit the gym before dinner, and do some chores after that and be just fine. They may be tired, yes, but not bone-deep tired. There's an exhaustion that is part of ME/CFS that is hard to explain. It's not an ordinary tiredness or fatigue. It is far, far worse than that. Sleep doesn't help. You don't wake up refreshed. If you overdo it, you pay for it - dearly.

I grieve for my life before chronic illness. It has stolen so much from me.

I didn't get in my treadmill time (it's been too cold to walk outside) tonight. If I'd pushed myself through that exhaustion, I would have ended up in bed possibly for the rest of the week, if not longer. So instead, I rested. I didn't work on my class paper - I had no mental capacity for such work. I hung out with my daughter and my boyfriend.

I still worry that I might wake up tomorrow and be in pain. 

This is my reality. 

There are days I can accept it and days I don't. 

But I will celebrate what I did accomplish today - and that includes honoring the commitment I made to myself to write daily on this blog, even if it's at 1:21 a.m. 

Go, me! 

I'll leave you with this incredibly important quote:

Dealing with Emotional Clutter

When I was a kid, my room was usually a disaster. I wouldn't leave dirty clothes on the floor, but I would leave piles of books, stacks of paper, and odds and ends all over the place. Eventually my mother would get tired of it and clean it up. I don't know why she didn't make me clean it up - it was my mess, after all! 

As an adult, my messy bedroom hasn't really changed. I still have books piled all over the place, stacks of paper, and odds and ends...and for some reason, it doesn't bother me.

Until it does.

And then I'm a cleaning whirlwind. When I'm done, I feel sooo much better. Why do I allow my bedroom to get this way in the first place? Honestly, I don't notice it. I'm so deep into whatever project I'm working on, whether it's a paper for class, or my novel, or something else, that the mess builds and builds and I don't see it. When I start noticing it, I get irritated for a few days until I can't take it anymore and clean.

My brain is the same way. If it's cluttered in my head - I'm having problem with a project, or I'm troubled by something in the world, or my relationship, or I'm wrestling with some other issue - it builds and builds and builds. Metaphorically, I have stacks of "stuff" piling up in my brain. When I notice myself getting irritated or feel depression settling on my shoulders, I have to stop and figure out why - and start decluttering and cleaning.

How do I accomplish this? 

My last completed puzzle

I journal. I go take a walk outside or I jump on the treadmill and listen to some music. I'll lose myself in a novel for awhile or put together a puzzle.  I'll talk about my issues with my boyfriend, or a trusted friend. Sometimes, if it's more serious, I'll make an appointment with my therapist. And wow, do I ever feel better once I "clean" up the chaos in my mind.

If only I could learn not to let it build up in the first place...

Maybe some day, right? A girl can hope.

My Dream Office

 

If you're a writer, you have a dream office.

For some, it's a room filled with light and space, with plenty of room to dream and create.

For others, it's a tucked away spot, a tiny cave to lock oneself away and shut out the world.

For some: light, airy colors; for others, dark and brooding.

For me, it's a grand room, filled with bookshelves, rich tapestries, a fireplace, dim lights, thick carpets, and a large desk where I can spread out. Of course the room must have a chaise lounge in front of a large, latticed window where I can gaze out at a backyard filled with flowers (tended to, of course, by someone other than me as I have a black thumb). 

It looks something like this:

Or perhaps something like this:

I do like the dark tones. Oh! But this is delightful, as well.

It must have a fireplace, and it must have built-in bookshelves. No televisions are allowed in this room, even though I confess, I do enjoy having a classic movie playing in the background sometimes when I write. But I think for the dream office, I'll eschew the TV and listen to classical records instead.

Right now, I'm crammed into a bedroom and while I am thankful for the space that I do have, oh, do I ever dream of that wonderful, perfect office. Can I write anywhere? Have laptop, will write! But I long to have a place that is solely for creating, for dreaming, for writing.

Do you have a dream office? 

On Foxes

When I was going through a divorce, a very dear friend told me a story about the fox and the scorpion. It's a continuation of the Aesop fable about the frog and the scorpion, and it goes something like this...

A fox watched as a scorpion asked a frog for a ride across the river, saw the scorpion sting the frog (because it was his nature to sting), and both of them drown. When a scorpion approached him later that afternoon and asked for a ride across the river, the wise fox decided to teach him a lesson.

"Sure," the fox said. "Hop on."

Thinking the scorpion had found another sucker, the scorpion hopped on the fox's back and they began to cross the river. He paused in the river and saw their reflection in the water. The scorpion was about to sting him, but because he was ready for the scorpion to act on his nature, the fox flipped the scorpion into the water. You see, it was in the fox's nature to watch and be wary.

The moral of the story? Be the fox.

This story deeply resonated with me because of my abusive marriage. My therapist told me that my ex-husband was unable to show our daughter the love she deserved and needed because it wasn't in his nature to do so. He couldn't love me as I deserved and needed because it wasn't in his nature. You see, like the frog, I'd trusted him, and, like the scorpion, he stung me over and over again. We both figuratively 'drowned' numerous times - fights, tears, abuse - and yet I kept falling for it over and over again.

Then I went to therapy, and learned that this my ex-husband's nature to do these things. I understood that I wasn't to blame for the abuse, for his narcissism, for his inability to change. 

But how could I make sure I didn't make this mistake again? 

I had to become the fox. I had to not only be watchful and wary, but I also had to be smart. 

Ever since, I've had an affinity for foxes. They're beautiful, smart creatures, and they remind me to be smart, to be watchful, to know when someone's nature keeps them from doing the right thing. 

Here in our city, we have urban red foxes. I've seen them several times over the years, but the home we're at now, they come into our backyard nearly every day. We finally set up a camera so we could capture them, and over the last few months, we've obtained some incredible footage. 

Here's a video from the other day: 

I've often thought I should get a fox tattoo and maybe I will some day. But for now, I'm going to content myself with watching them in my backyard. 

I'm endlessly grateful to my friend for telling me that story. I will never be the naïve frog again - I will be the fox. 

Late Night Ramblings

 I've been trying to do a post every day, but it's now 12:24 a.m. and I'm just now getting around to it. 

Whoops.

When you live with chronic illnesses like mine, you never know when a new part of your body is going to start hurting. In the last month, it's been my shoulders. Is it the way I hold my phone? The fact that I'm not using an ergonomic keyboard since I have a laptop?

Maybe it's both.

Regardless, I'm going to have to figure out a long-term plan. While I do have an ergonomic keyboard, the desk I currently have isn't suited to using it. Ideally, I need a pull-out drawer for the keyboard. While I really like my desk - it's a 1950s French Rococo style - it's simply not big enough to suit my purposes. 

Does this mean I need to shop for a new desk?

Probably. If I want to be able to write without causing pain in my shoulders or in my wrists (that's starting to happen, too!), then I guess I'll bite the bullet.

If anyone has any suggestions, I'm all ears! 

In other late night ramblings...

• It's day 5 of this flare. And the temperature went from 76 degrees yesterday to 30 today! I hope I'm not wiped out tomorrow. Severe temperature drops usually make my body hurt.
  
• I watched a documentary on the band KISS. I like a few of their songs, but have never been a fan. Remember the VH1 show, Behind the Music? I always enjoyed watching those. It seems that fame takes a toll, no matter how well-adjusted we all might think we are.
• I'm not thinking about Christmas yet. I want to enjoy autumn a little longer. Since I went on a trip to Virginia a few weeks ago, I feel like I missed out on it a bit. So. No decorating for Christmas until December 1. But if you're in the mood, I say GO for it! Listen to Christmas carols! Deck them halls! We all need joy in our lives.