Gambling and Whoring

06:55 am - Moving along, moving on

Last night we spent the first night in our new house as a complete family.  Cayden ended up crawling into our bed in the middle of the night because it was so weird for him to not be in the room he has known, loved, and marked on for the past 5 years and change.  The overcrowded bed had me getting up at six this morning, so now I am sitting outside and wondering how to progress with my day.

I've got a to-do list about fifteen miles long, and it is stressing me out.

08:10 am - Day 2 of the yard sale

Selling off about 2/3 of my books, 2/3 of my yarn, and a bunch of other stuff.

Mantra for the day:  My possessions do not define me.  My possessions do not define me.

11:50 am - Suggestions needed!!

So, Livejournal.  I need some help.

Being in the midst of this unemployment fiasco, moving fiasco, and general life upheaval, I am having a hard time writing fiction.  I manage about one poem a week, but that's not enough, really.

So if fiction is out, and so is poetry (for the most part), what would be a good nonfiction project for me to attack wholeheartedly?

I am torn between a few options:

1.  An offbeat take on frugal living, coming at it from being a spoiled middle-class girl all my life, and having to learn to adapt to my new existence.

2.  A similar book, but about entertaining on a budget.

3.  A book of essays about my fantastico husband (I've already written a couple, so this at least has a beginning).

4.  A craft book of some sort (suggestions for niche are appreciated, probably no knitting as my hands are terrible these days).

5.  A graphic novel full of really terrible art (by me) with wonderful writing (egotistically, by me) about mental health and my experiences.

6.  A slightly better researched non-graphic book about mental health and my experiences (I have been informed that this would probably never sell, but is selling really the point?)

7.  Something wacky and interesting (please offer your suggestions in the comments!  Anything goes!)

09:35 am - Update on the Funemployed Front

Matt and I have decided that the best bet for right now is for him to seek a Master's degree in something he would really like to do with the rest of his life.  His time with his current company has been bittersweet, and that time ends today as he works his last shift from 6p-6a tonight.  Tomorrow, he will begin researching options for going to UK in either physics or chemistry (I'm leaning towards physics, because I want to be married to a rocket scientist!)

Next Monday, we will begin moving into a less expensive home that we will be renting from a friend (and fabulous author we are delighted to know).  This next weekend, we will be selling off about 40% of our possessions so that we can enter our new home clutter-free.  It will be a cleansing experience to get rid of so much of the stuff I have let define me, and an exercise in learning what I *really* need, and what I do not.   I will miss our current home.  It has been a blessing and a curse to be a homeowner, but we cannot keep up with our mortgage.

I will be seeking a job at Starbucks, partially for the insurance, partially for the writing fodder.  I am scared about the possibility of reentering the work force after so long, but I know I can handle it.  It is within my capability to be just as fantastic as I want to be.  And if fantastic means pulling shots as a barista?  I'm ready to take that on.

We are beginning a new era of our life, friends.  We will be much poorer than we have been in the past nine years of our marriage, but hopefully we will be happier too.  Not that we've ever lacked on the happiness front, but who would say no to more?

More later, as I think it will be important to begin using my livejournal again.

xo,

Renee

06:06 pm - Status update

Matt has a second interview for a job in Cinci tomorrow morning.  Put on your prayer panties.

It would mean moving 80 or so miles from the land that I love (Lexington), but close enough to come visit every once in awhile.

Thanks for all your kind thoughts, everyone.  And once again, if you need a hilarious and talented writer, I'm your girl.

05:37 am - So that was kinda meh

Matt was laid off yesterday.  So if anyone know of a job for a fantastic writer who just doesn't happen to have a degree?  Lemme know! 

In other news, I'm working on a novel right now, but it might take me a few days to get back into the right headspace.  Right now I just keep thinking I should sell everything I own and live off the land.

09:35 am - Pantooooooooum

My poem, "Fairest of Them All" is now available at Asinine Poetry.

Please come check out my brilliance and let me know what you think.

11:56 am - Today

I have come to the conclusion that I am not as fabulous as I thought I was

( Read more... )

10:41 am - Scar Tissue

Right now, I am taking a Creative Nonfiction course, and it has caused me to put an analogy to what I’ve been trying to do with my yearly blogathon entries, my 24-hour comics, and my writing in general, so without further ado, let me go on about that at length for a bit.

As a simple fact of being people (and now my brain is firmly in Soylent Green) we get banged around, scraped up, scarred.  Physically yes, but also emotionally.   The damage inflicted on us, the damage inflicted by us … it all takes its toll.  The bangs, scrapes, and scars on my psyche are something that I’ve pretended to be healed from for the past 10+ years of my life.  Somehow, I’ve expected myself to have some superhuman ability to heal without any mental equivalent of antibiotic ointment or even a Snoopy band-aid.   Ridiculous, really.

Until very recently, I would save up all my pain for 24-hour comic day, then pour it out on the page in bad drawings and snarky dialogue.  Until recently, I really thought that was enough because I’ve been convincing myself that it HAD to be enough.

Cut to the present, where my mental and emotional scars are becoming increasingly more visible.  Not just to myself, but to others.  To my distaste and horror, people can now tell that I am not fine when they talk to me.  They can tell I am holding back.  And to hold back any longer makes me feel like a hypocrite and a fool.

This weekend, I decided to do a bit of surgery on this calcified scar tissue around my metaphorical heart.  They say to write well is simple, all you have to do is bleed on the page.  The problem with bleeding on the page is it can just make more scars when you open that vein, but if you choose an existing scar, and with precision, cut around it … well, if you really use the whole thing.  Really get it out on the page, I mean … the new scar will be smaller, cleaner, a badge of your history and not a blight on your soul.

I think I managed that this weekend.  No, I am not over everything that happened.  No, I don’t expect I’ll ever be 100% over anything.  But the scar from those events are now smaller, lighter in color, and something I can look at and realize that the imperfections of my past help make me who I am.

Now that I’ve once again run an analogy into the ground, I’ll say this:

No matter our scars, we are not marred by them unless we try to cover them with a bad layer of cosmetic “okayness”.

I am not fine, but I am not broken.

10:19 am - So glad to have the life I have.

I am trying very hard to be the person I should let myself deserve to be.

Renee Rigdon is Genre Impaired