I'm back
We are not going to talk about how long it's been since I posted. There has been so much going on my life for the past three weeks I don't want to talk about it. Plus since all the drama and chaos worked out mostly satisfactory, complaining seems bad for karma, and trust me when I say I've used up my karmic stores for like the next six months. Maybe even longer. Also, kids make life interesting. Ugh.
The result of this 'splosion is that I ignored the Internet's existence. I barely checked my email for weeks, I finally got on Facebook and LiveJournal for the first time in *mumblemumble*, and frankly I'm scared to look at my Google Reader. Dangit, now I have to look . . . OMDD! 600+ unread posts!! *faints* I might mark everything as read and start fresh. Anyway, I haven't forgotten you, my friends, and I have missed your prolific blogging selves. New, let's see if four things make a post.
1) Good news! My surgery on my right elbow went well. I wore a cast for a week, and now have a splint I wear part of the time. I can't lift anything heavier than a fork/knife/pen, but I can type and write again. I would Snoopy dance, but it would jostle my elbow so please just imagine I'm doing the Snoopy dance. (If you care / don't know / can't remember I have cubital tunnel syndrome, which is like carpal tunnel syndrome but in my elbows. Wikipedia's explanation is fairly accurate today.)
2) An apology to my family. If you received a Christmas card with illegible scrawls filling in the bottom half of the card, it's probably from me. I sat there in a cast and a narcotic-induced haze and told my husband we absolutely had to sign and send out Christmas cards that week. No, we could not wait until the cast came off because it would then be too late. Bless him, he didn't argue, but helped by addressing envelopes so at least the cards would arrive at the correct houses. So, even if you can't read it, we love you all and we thought about you all while signing them and told funny ancedotes and missed you and wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas.
3) Today, this lovely, grotesque, brilliant piece came to my attention.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
. . .
These are my adult pants. The diapers have burned away in the fires of my phoenix-esque rising.
I will burn down the forest. As the conflagration rages, all my excuses shall come scurrying forth like syphilitic rats whose backs smolder with the smoky scent of my coming victory. When my excuses bound, shrieking and squealing, toward my feet, I shall use my mighty wordhammer to squash them all, ‘asploding each like a sausage stuffed with self-deception and disillusionment.
This is from The Writer's Prayer or "The Penmonkey's Paean" (Hmm, I should probably warn you it continues along in this vein and gets a bit worse, so if the excerpt isn't palatable, don't click that link. But you should really click on that link.) and is a much-needed kick in my butt to get back to work on my books. I shamefully admit I haven't written since before Thanksgiving. OK, so I couldn't work for a week what with the surgery and cast and drugs and all, but there are several other weeks in there where I was just a poor-excuse slacker. Time to put on my big-girl pants.
I will sally forth until I have this book by the balls and by the throat.
I am the Commander of these words.
I am the King of this story.
I am the God of this place.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
Amen.
4) December means Princess' and Thing 2's birthdays and Christmas in our house. We shall feast and feast and feast, feast, feast, feast! It begins tonight with the baking of many cookies. (I solemnly vow this year I will not eat more cookie dough than I bake.)
I wish everyone a happy celebration of your choice!
The result of this 'splosion is that I ignored the Internet's existence. I barely checked my email for weeks, I finally got on Facebook and LiveJournal for the first time in *mumblemumble*, and frankly I'm scared to look at my Google Reader. Dangit, now I have to look . . . OMDD! 600+ unread posts!! *faints* I might mark everything as read and start fresh. Anyway, I haven't forgotten you, my friends, and I have missed your prolific blogging selves. New, let's see if four things make a post.
1) Good news! My surgery on my right elbow went well. I wore a cast for a week, and now have a splint I wear part of the time. I can't lift anything heavier than a fork/knife/pen, but I can type and write again. I would Snoopy dance, but it would jostle my elbow so please just imagine I'm doing the Snoopy dance. (If you care / don't know / can't remember I have cubital tunnel syndrome, which is like carpal tunnel syndrome but in my elbows. Wikipedia's explanation is fairly accurate today.)
2) An apology to my family. If you received a Christmas card with illegible scrawls filling in the bottom half of the card, it's probably from me. I sat there in a cast and a narcotic-induced haze and told my husband we absolutely had to sign and send out Christmas cards that week. No, we could not wait until the cast came off because it would then be too late. Bless him, he didn't argue, but helped by addressing envelopes so at least the cards would arrive at the correct houses. So, even if you can't read it, we love you all and we thought about you all while signing them and told funny ancedotes and missed you and wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas.
3) Today, this lovely, grotesque, brilliant piece came to my attention.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
. . .
These are my adult pants. The diapers have burned away in the fires of my phoenix-esque rising.
I will burn down the forest. As the conflagration rages, all my excuses shall come scurrying forth like syphilitic rats whose backs smolder with the smoky scent of my coming victory. When my excuses bound, shrieking and squealing, toward my feet, I shall use my mighty wordhammer to squash them all, ‘asploding each like a sausage stuffed with self-deception and disillusionment.
This is from The Writer's Prayer or "The Penmonkey's Paean" (Hmm, I should probably warn you it continues along in this vein and gets a bit worse, so if the excerpt isn't palatable, don't click that link. But you should really click on that link.) and is a much-needed kick in my butt to get back to work on my books. I shamefully admit I haven't written since before Thanksgiving. OK, so I couldn't work for a week what with the surgery and cast and drugs and all, but there are several other weeks in there where I was just a poor-excuse slacker. Time to put on my big-girl pants.
I will sally forth until I have this book by the balls and by the throat.
I am the Commander of these words.
I am the King of this story.
I am the God of this place.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
Amen.
4) December means Princess' and Thing 2's birthdays and Christmas in our house. We shall feast and feast and feast, feast, feast, feast! It begins tonight with the baking of many cookies. (I solemnly vow this year I will not eat more cookie dough than I bake.)
I wish everyone a happy celebration of your choice!