This is why you don't want me waking up early...
*Dons Irish accent* Mary, mother of God, an lj entry. At seven tharty in the mornin'.
Right. You know, Fall's almost here. Ally couldn't be happier, but I'm ambivelant. The cold season brings its usual shroud of depression in with the chill, and I don't care much for the consequences. Anybody else out there have SAD? You know, seasonal affective disorder? It's that frustrating thing that happens where, due to lack of UV light, Vitamin D and true sun exposure because of cold weather, various depressiony behaviours/thoughts, etc. start to kick in. I guess I've probably had it all my life, since I can remember being sad/scared in the winter as far back as ten or eleven year old (with the dawn of my wonky hormones). Before then, it was all just as wonderful in winter as it was in summer. Snow men, miserably failed igloos (Pennsylvania snow is nowhere near the packing quality of the antarctic), snow angels, and when it wasn't snowing I could build forts and play house and watch TV and that pesky school thing was only an afterthought. Then my body changed, well, it seemed to attack me from the inside out, as bodies typically do, and so did my mind.
So, you'd think through all those long, deeply-rooted, chill you to the bone PA winters I'd view the chilly, not so snowy, mainly cold and muddy and brown Missouri winters as pie. But nah. It's almost worse out here. In fact, it was worse out here than it ever was at home--probably a combinationn of missing my brother and sister and hating my job, pining for a different life. And I guess that's kind of the point of this journal entry...that's right, TADA! I have a point. Er points. Not that I think I need to in order to create an entry--though maybe I do. After all, a pointless entry is a waste of everyone's time, right? Or wrong. You know what? Screw it. On with the points.
Plan A, of sorts involves music. I went to a concert at my church last weekend. Ok, to clarify, I kind of had to as I was singing a song, and presence is helpful in those kinds of situations. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting to be very blown away. Man, was I surprised! What an incredibly talented group of people. I don't think you'd have found as many gifts on one of those TV variety competitions. Violinists, singers, piano players, cello, flute, you name it! So it was the first time in a long time I'd thought to myself "Shit, I just NEED to collaborate more. What a sin and shame and waste it would be not to" Right, cuz I've thought collaborating would be nice before, I HAVE collaborated a little. Just never actually felt passionate about it. Anyhoo, I want to sing with those strings! And I want to do more folky guitar songs with a few of those...well...folks, appropriately. And, in keeping with the promise that I have a blazing point, I want to do all thaat this winter, through all the deep, dark, bleak, cold, opressive months. I know very well how much I should be creating more, letting it flow, refusing to hold back and yadda yadda positivity, but I've lacked the motivation/energy/balls to truly put myself out there and commit.
Plan numero dos is about the writing. I'ma start another book. And you know, rewinding and repeating that last statement, it's a wonder to me that I ever finished a book, let alone a 120,000 word count monster.
Me.
I finished something. What the hell?? I guess that first book was filling a gap of some kind, and when I think about it, that was one euphorically happy winter for me... I was on cloud nine, desperately in love with the contents of my word processor. No wonder I seek to replicate it. Though, I'm taking a big step away from the supernatural and into the realm of *unified GASP* realistic fiction. I know, I know. What a depressing lot of junk that is. But, typically, you won't catch me with a sci-fi or paranormal novel in my hands. I like reading the real to life fiction that develops characters and teaches you things about yourself/the world/our spirits. Surely I'd like writing it. And that damned bohemoth, 'Seers of Light', it's getting marketed to agents as YA this winter. It's getting marketed and SOLD, in general, if it's the last thing I ever do. That trek across the desert alone should keep me too busy to allow much time for entertaining unhappy thoughts.
Plan C, three, tres, involves my health. Working on that one. It's not my favorite topic so I won't elaborate past asking for prayers. I can use all the strength I can get, Lord knows. Perhaps it's a little early for New Year's Resolutions, but screw the rules. I'm getting resolutiony. OK, off to email the music director. I'm not letting this one go, people!! *war cry*. Plus, Ally's made pancakes...mmmm.
Right. You know, Fall's almost here. Ally couldn't be happier, but I'm ambivelant. The cold season brings its usual shroud of depression in with the chill, and I don't care much for the consequences. Anybody else out there have SAD? You know, seasonal affective disorder? It's that frustrating thing that happens where, due to lack of UV light, Vitamin D and true sun exposure because of cold weather, various depressiony behaviours/thoughts, etc. start to kick in. I guess I've probably had it all my life, since I can remember being sad/scared in the winter as far back as ten or eleven year old (with the dawn of my wonky hormones). Before then, it was all just as wonderful in winter as it was in summer. Snow men, miserably failed igloos (Pennsylvania snow is nowhere near the packing quality of the antarctic), snow angels, and when it wasn't snowing I could build forts and play house and watch TV and that pesky school thing was only an afterthought. Then my body changed, well, it seemed to attack me from the inside out, as bodies typically do, and so did my mind.
So, you'd think through all those long, deeply-rooted, chill you to the bone PA winters I'd view the chilly, not so snowy, mainly cold and muddy and brown Missouri winters as pie. But nah. It's almost worse out here. In fact, it was worse out here than it ever was at home--probably a combinationn of missing my brother and sister and hating my job, pining for a different life. And I guess that's kind of the point of this journal entry...that's right, TADA! I have a point. Er points. Not that I think I need to in order to create an entry--though maybe I do. After all, a pointless entry is a waste of everyone's time, right? Or wrong. You know what? Screw it. On with the points.
Plan A, of sorts involves music. I went to a concert at my church last weekend. Ok, to clarify, I kind of had to as I was singing a song, and presence is helpful in those kinds of situations. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting to be very blown away. Man, was I surprised! What an incredibly talented group of people. I don't think you'd have found as many gifts on one of those TV variety competitions. Violinists, singers, piano players, cello, flute, you name it! So it was the first time in a long time I'd thought to myself "Shit, I just NEED to collaborate more. What a sin and shame and waste it would be not to" Right, cuz I've thought collaborating would be nice before, I HAVE collaborated a little. Just never actually felt passionate about it. Anyhoo, I want to sing with those strings! And I want to do more folky guitar songs with a few of those...well...folks, appropriately. And, in keeping with the promise that I have a blazing point, I want to do all thaat this winter, through all the deep, dark, bleak, cold, opressive months. I know very well how much I should be creating more, letting it flow, refusing to hold back and yadda yadda positivity, but I've lacked the motivation/energy/balls to truly put myself out there and commit.
Plan numero dos is about the writing. I'ma start another book. And you know, rewinding and repeating that last statement, it's a wonder to me that I ever finished a book, let alone a 120,000 word count monster.
Me.
I finished something. What the hell?? I guess that first book was filling a gap of some kind, and when I think about it, that was one euphorically happy winter for me... I was on cloud nine, desperately in love with the contents of my word processor. No wonder I seek to replicate it. Though, I'm taking a big step away from the supernatural and into the realm of *unified GASP* realistic fiction. I know, I know. What a depressing lot of junk that is. But, typically, you won't catch me with a sci-fi or paranormal novel in my hands. I like reading the real to life fiction that develops characters and teaches you things about yourself/the world/our spirits. Surely I'd like writing it. And that damned bohemoth, 'Seers of Light', it's getting marketed to agents as YA this winter. It's getting marketed and SOLD, in general, if it's the last thing I ever do. That trek across the desert alone should keep me too busy to allow much time for entertaining unhappy thoughts.
Plan C, three, tres, involves my health. Working on that one. It's not my favorite topic so I won't elaborate past asking for prayers. I can use all the strength I can get, Lord knows. Perhaps it's a little early for New Year's Resolutions, but screw the rules. I'm getting resolutiony. OK, off to email the music director. I'm not letting this one go, people!! *war cry*. Plus, Ally's made pancakes...mmmm.