Friday I'm in Love
Random things make a random post. Ah, the art of blogging - I flail at it.
Next week Scott and I meet with the foster/adoption social worker, and turn in some paperwork. So it begins. I don't really know what to expect, other than the Spanish Inquisition. I think they might have more than the comfy chair in mind, though, when they question us. Well, they will have to ascertain that we have a comfy chair, at some point. And child locks, and that we have fire ladders in every upstairs room and a detailed fire plan, and that we don't plan to drown any children in the rain-filled useless non-fountain in our back yard. I think we might have a chat with the landlord/prop management company about that stupid thing.
I'm nervous. Just a little. But I might clean the heck out of the house this weekend. Even though it's nowhere near time for a home visit, and no one will know but us (and you reading this), but it might make me feel better. Neurotic? Nah.
This week marks two months since I started using the elliptical machine at work, 2-3 times per week. This is in addition to my dance class schedule, mostly on days when I do not have dance. I'm surprising myself by almost liking it. I haven't lost any more weight per se, but I have lost another 1/2 inch off of thighs and arms. So ... I guess that's good. If in the future we have room, lots of extra money, and decide to spend money on exercise equipment, I would not object to a similar object. I would probably even use it. This is saying a lot - normally I hate these things. And I'd be happier if the work machine *didn't* have that tv on it - I don't use it, and it's in the way of the not-great-but-something view. Which means I'm either looking off to the side a bit, or looking at a dark reflection of my sweaty, moon-shaped face mouthing the words to whatever motivational angry or excessively happy music I've got on. (Right now I'm liking "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheetus. And Gotye, of course. And Earth, Wind, and Fire, because duh.) This exercise thing - not too hard to add in. I've always been happier the more active I am.
I do need to fix my food intake habits, however. I eat better than I did when I was a teenager ... but only by a few degrees. The thing is, I never needed to worry about my weight until the last few years. (Stress on *needed*). My mid-life weight gain is something I am ill-equipped, based on prior experience, to cope with. Not something that people who have different body image issues from me are particularly sympathetic about, necessarily. But that's just it - I've always had body image issues, just not the same ones as people fighting their weight. Even when I was (comparatively) young and hot, I always thought I was hideous. Which is an almost universal experience among women (and many men, of course) - The Bloggess had it right in her column about body acceptance - I am at the "I am hideous and wish I looked like I did when I was a teenager" stage. Which is ridiculous, of course. I would never go back to being a teenager. But man, I wish I still had those abs. And that metabolism. But not anything else that goes along with it. I want to go back to the "When do I get my wings" stage. Or skip to the "Fuck you, I'm awesome" stage. So far I haven't been able to pick. So instead of obsessing over other flaws, I now get to obsess about weight, like most other women in America. I cannot express the depth of my not-yay.
So I need to eat better, whether or not it helps me to lose weight I may or may not need to lose. I've been working on it slowly, but this coming week? I'm adding in cottage cheese. I haven't eaten it since I was a child - because I hated it then, so I've refused to eat it. But there's the case of the yogurt - I used to hate that, too. Tastes too yogurty. I now eat yogurt all the time - granted, only one flavor of only one brand, but it's now my breakfast and go-to snack. So ... that's some progress, right? Maybe I can do that with cottage cheese. Basically I need more protein and less sugar. And more veggies, but that's more a function of buying them and eating them before they spoil. Which means we'll have to cook more. Scott is perfectly willing to cook, but I think I need to contribute here. I am not a terribly good cook. Mostly because I get bored and give up. I'm perfectly happy to eat sensible, tasty, nutritious meals. As long as I don't have to do a whole lot about it. So. Lazy. I like my meals to magically appear like in Harry Potter. But without enslaving any poor gray creatures who refuse socks. That's just cruel.
The other random thing is the writing. It's still chugging along. I'm close to 35,000 words. I'm in the actual middle. I'm feeling like I lost a few threads of plot, and I don't have the names of enough things, and I may have over-invested in one of the main characters who isn't technically the main protagonist, because she's awesome, but she sort of met most of her goal and now I'm stuck again. Sigh. But I have some idea what I might do about it. Maybe. A friend is looking over what I have so far (minus the meeblings from this week) and I'm hoping he'll have some suggestions. I went back and read the first 60 or so pages (I'm past page 150! When I get to page 300, I'm having a party.) and there's some really good stuff in there. Mixed in with dropped characters and unrealized plot ideas and a few weird rambly bits, and some really awful dialogue, of course. But I'm not fixing it yet. I just wanted to remember what I did so far.
I think it will work, though. I need a pathway through the middle, hack through giant thickets of random plot distractions, get my protagonist to stick to her goals, not to say her guns, and get things moving again. And get to the end. After I do that, I can fiddle around and fix things and maybe some of these plot distractions will be good thickener. Although I'm betting mostly it needs to be cut. No despair in Lindseyville for this story, though. I have faith that I can get to the end. I'm still not giving myself a deadline, because so far that has not worked for me. But I will finish this novel, and I will get it to first readers, after a general fix-the-names, spell-check, add in a couple obvious scenes pass. Because I can.
So that's my random post about stuff on my bliggety-blog. Happy Friday the 13th.
Next week Scott and I meet with the foster/adoption social worker, and turn in some paperwork. So it begins. I don't really know what to expect, other than the Spanish Inquisition. I think they might have more than the comfy chair in mind, though, when they question us. Well, they will have to ascertain that we have a comfy chair, at some point. And child locks, and that we have fire ladders in every upstairs room and a detailed fire plan, and that we don't plan to drown any children in the rain-filled useless non-fountain in our back yard. I think we might have a chat with the landlord/prop management company about that stupid thing.
I'm nervous. Just a little. But I might clean the heck out of the house this weekend. Even though it's nowhere near time for a home visit, and no one will know but us (and you reading this), but it might make me feel better. Neurotic? Nah.
This week marks two months since I started using the elliptical machine at work, 2-3 times per week. This is in addition to my dance class schedule, mostly on days when I do not have dance. I'm surprising myself by almost liking it. I haven't lost any more weight per se, but I have lost another 1/2 inch off of thighs and arms. So ... I guess that's good. If in the future we have room, lots of extra money, and decide to spend money on exercise equipment, I would not object to a similar object. I would probably even use it. This is saying a lot - normally I hate these things. And I'd be happier if the work machine *didn't* have that tv on it - I don't use it, and it's in the way of the not-great-but-something view. Which means I'm either looking off to the side a bit, or looking at a dark reflection of my sweaty, moon-shaped face mouthing the words to whatever motivational angry or excessively happy music I've got on. (Right now I'm liking "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheetus. And Gotye, of course. And Earth, Wind, and Fire, because duh.) This exercise thing - not too hard to add in. I've always been happier the more active I am.
I do need to fix my food intake habits, however. I eat better than I did when I was a teenager ... but only by a few degrees. The thing is, I never needed to worry about my weight until the last few years. (Stress on *needed*). My mid-life weight gain is something I am ill-equipped, based on prior experience, to cope with. Not something that people who have different body image issues from me are particularly sympathetic about, necessarily. But that's just it - I've always had body image issues, just not the same ones as people fighting their weight. Even when I was (comparatively) young and hot, I always thought I was hideous. Which is an almost universal experience among women (and many men, of course) - The Bloggess had it right in her column about body acceptance - I am at the "I am hideous and wish I looked like I did when I was a teenager" stage. Which is ridiculous, of course. I would never go back to being a teenager. But man, I wish I still had those abs. And that metabolism. But not anything else that goes along with it. I want to go back to the "When do I get my wings" stage. Or skip to the "Fuck you, I'm awesome" stage. So far I haven't been able to pick. So instead of obsessing over other flaws, I now get to obsess about weight, like most other women in America. I cannot express the depth of my not-yay.
So I need to eat better, whether or not it helps me to lose weight I may or may not need to lose. I've been working on it slowly, but this coming week? I'm adding in cottage cheese. I haven't eaten it since I was a child - because I hated it then, so I've refused to eat it. But there's the case of the yogurt - I used to hate that, too. Tastes too yogurty. I now eat yogurt all the time - granted, only one flavor of only one brand, but it's now my breakfast and go-to snack. So ... that's some progress, right? Maybe I can do that with cottage cheese. Basically I need more protein and less sugar. And more veggies, but that's more a function of buying them and eating them before they spoil. Which means we'll have to cook more. Scott is perfectly willing to cook, but I think I need to contribute here. I am not a terribly good cook. Mostly because I get bored and give up. I'm perfectly happy to eat sensible, tasty, nutritious meals. As long as I don't have to do a whole lot about it. So. Lazy. I like my meals to magically appear like in Harry Potter. But without enslaving any poor gray creatures who refuse socks. That's just cruel.
The other random thing is the writing. It's still chugging along. I'm close to 35,000 words. I'm in the actual middle. I'm feeling like I lost a few threads of plot, and I don't have the names of enough things, and I may have over-invested in one of the main characters who isn't technically the main protagonist, because she's awesome, but she sort of met most of her goal and now I'm stuck again. Sigh. But I have some idea what I might do about it. Maybe. A friend is looking over what I have so far (minus the meeblings from this week) and I'm hoping he'll have some suggestions. I went back and read the first 60 or so pages (I'm past page 150! When I get to page 300, I'm having a party.) and there's some really good stuff in there. Mixed in with dropped characters and unrealized plot ideas and a few weird rambly bits, and some really awful dialogue, of course. But I'm not fixing it yet. I just wanted to remember what I did so far.
I think it will work, though. I need a pathway through the middle, hack through giant thickets of random plot distractions, get my protagonist to stick to her goals, not to say her guns, and get things moving again. And get to the end. After I do that, I can fiddle around and fix things and maybe some of these plot distractions will be good thickener. Although I'm betting mostly it needs to be cut. No despair in Lindseyville for this story, though. I have faith that I can get to the end. I'm still not giving myself a deadline, because so far that has not worked for me. But I will finish this novel, and I will get it to first readers, after a general fix-the-names, spell-check, add in a couple obvious scenes pass. Because I can.
So that's my random post about stuff on my bliggety-blog. Happy Friday the 13th.