RIP PS2

This is the end of an era. You will be missed.

Running

The psych ward was, of course, the psych ward. Mildly draining, kind of taxing. While I was driving home, I hit a nail and the tire blew. I pulled into a parking lot and dug around in the trunk to find the jack and everything that I needed. I can change a tire, but not quickly, and it's a lot harder in the dark. I was thinking how vulnerable it is to be out there, bent over with your head down while you're concentrating, and just then some guys from the bar next door decided to come over and be friendly. And I don't want to be friendly. I decided to bail on the car and send Luke back to fix it, and I was close enough to home that I decided to just walk it. After a block or so, walking seemed like a waste of time, so I began to run.

This is what I have decided about running, because it's satisfying but not fun. Running isn't so that you can fit into your clothes or keep your muscles strong. Running is to help prepare you for a time when you find yourself stranded in the middle of a dark city, and you need to run home. Going for a run is emergency preparation. And I like it. I like hearing my own breathing in my ears, and feeling how naturally my body moves. We were born to run, and I think that we have forgotten how.

The Purpose of Adversity

So I'm going to visit one of the women that I visit teach tonight. She's currently living in a mental health treatment center, and you have to do the whole shebang in order to get in. Know the patient code. Flash your ID. Take off your belt, empty your pockets, nothing sharp in your hair, no stilettos, etc etc. This particular center also houses adolescent male sex offenders in a separate area. Which naturally flashes me back to my old job, and I remember how incredibly draining it was. I'm so glad not to be there anymore. Anyway, I'm going to give her the lesson that I gave to the Young Women on Sunday, about overcoming adversity. I also emailed the bare bones of that lesson to one of my best friends yesterday, because apparently I am the biggest dork in the universe. But I know that adversity makes us stronger and, more importantly, more compassionate. My friend's baby is in the hospital with a major heart problem right now, and I thought, "I understand. I understand, I understand." I think compassion is one of the greatest emotions on earth.

That said, I signed my contract for the short story yesterday. They get first North American Serial rights and exclusivity for a year, plus the right to use excerpts for promotion if they choose. I get $25 and a contributor's copy, and that's enough for me. I get to pull a book off of the shelf and say, "Do you want to hear a story that Mama wrote?" The thought alone makes me smile.

Niko's limp is absolutely obscene. His left foot turns all of the way out, but he's getting stronger, and I'm grateful for it. I can't tell you how his broken leg threw me! "It was gruesome," Luke said, but it was more than that. I'm prepared for the other things. Heart things and artery things and kidney/calcium/hearing/visual/ things. But I had never built up my reserves for something simply snapping. Now I have thought about it. Now I am prepared. I vow never to be thrown like that again.

Nina is a mama's girl. "Ma ma ma mamamma," she cries, crawling toward me and lifting up her arms. She's so beautiful. She's so fearless and lovable. She was worth everything that happened in order to get her here.

I've been working on a new story lately, and I like it. Apparently it's a novel, because I'm writing it in chapters, but it's unlike anything else that I have ever written. The main character is an incredibly sarcastic woman with...well, we'll call it a special "talent", and the two male leads are her legal assistant brother (Thanks, Birgit! I gave him your job!) and an ex-junkie with bland hair and beautiful eyes. It's writing itself, practically, and it's a pleasure to be along for the ride.

Know what I've been thinking about lately? Forgiveness. Repentance and change. People taking horrible things and somehow making them beautiful. I'm discovering how much I really believe in mankind. It's somewhat of a relief, actually.

SOLD!!!

I just sold a short story! It's one I wrote last summer, and it's one of my very favorites. It'll be published in the anthology "Neverlands and Otherwheres" and should be out by September. Ish. Septemberish.

This story is very special to me. I am most excited. :)

Home Again.

I'm writing from my parent's house. The kidlets and I have been here about a week, and it's nice to enjoy some things unique to home. Like cable TV, for example. I've become obsessed with paranormal research shows, claiming that they'll give me "story ideas" when really, I just like to watch everybody jumping in the dark. I'm a bit sadistic like that. Other things that I like about home: wearing Riley's pajama pants. They're new, he's never worn them, and they pool around my feet and drag around behind me on the ground. Riding on the motorcycle with Dad, and Mom and I talking until way too early in the morning. Knowing that my kids can totally freak out (and they do. Yesterday we forced them utterly against their will to look at cute, fuzzy, wobbly little puppies, and it was like the very jaws of Hell had opened beneath them) and my parents will still love them. Seeing old friends. Seeing old places. "I was locked in that bell tower once. I learned how to rollerskate here. This place serves the best grilled ham and cheese sandwiches that I've ever had." At the same time, I'm so glad that I moved out of my hometown. It was sucking my soul away.

There's one thing about this area that I absolutely love, though. It has more stars than any place that I have ever seen. Dad and I were out looking at Polaris tonight, and I remember sitting outside when I was a young girl, drawing pictures of the constellations. I wanted to map the sky.

Friday The 13th Is My Lucky Day!

Wow, what's that blinding white documents envelope that I'm holding? That's my query, my SASE and the partial of my novel. Yes! I finally sent it out for the very first time! I am all kinds of excited, and happy, and just very proud of myself. Also note the Rock Band drum set and all of our paper products that we have to toss onto the mantel because Niko shreds them into confetti.

Anyway. Go me!

Happy Things.

Niko's cast came off today, much to our happy surprise. And these are flowers that I made for my hair. I think they're quite cheery.

Also, I'm getting my motorcycle license this summer. :)

Partners In Crime

Niko and Nina got into the formula and spilled it all over the floor. Niko was smart enough to crawl away when he heard me coming, but Nina is still new at this. She was fisting dry formula into her mouth as fast as humanly possible.

They make a great team.

Also, Niko's wheelchair in the lift. It was his triumphant last day at school. Look at that happy face. I fought for that.

For Those Of You Who Understand...

I was going through the fridge, trying to use up the random odds and ends that we have left. So lunch was an unusual yet fortunately delicious vegetable soup, a single Pillsbury orange roll, and flat Sprite. Apparently lame lunches are conducive to my creativity, because Ray decided to make an appearance.

He complained Ansel has always had it easy, and that he always ends up with what he wants. "So," he said, "if he gets what he wants MOST...what's he going to do with it?"

"Uh...enjoy it?"

Ray waved me away. "Of course not. He's not going to be careful with it. Now, I, on the other hand..." Ray then proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that he has to work for everything, fighting tooth and nail with an almost frightening tenacity. And if HE were to achieve what he always wanted, well then. That would be a completely different story.

My eyes went wide. "Ray! I know how to fix the second book!"

Nobody can do the scathingly sarcastic eyebrow thing better than Ray. "Not until you send the first one out, babe. And since when do you drink Sprite, anyway? Poseur."

Tomorrow. I'm sending my manuscript tomorrow. I promised Ray I would, and I'm terrified to go up against him.

Beautifully Frightening

I recently published my second piece. This is just a small one, a non-paying online magazine that specializes in super-flash, but I'm happy and proud nonetheless. It came out today and I lazily drifted over to see it.

There was already a comment posted, a strange man who wrote, "This is simply beautiful." And it IS beautiful, at least to me. But suddenly I felt dreadfully naked, somebody that I don't know reading my work. Which is the goal of being published, isn't it? Letting others read your work? It's silly in a way. And serious in another. Do I write to be read? I never really minded it. It is a pleasure to hand your story to your friend and to talk about it later. It's thrilling to hear your character's name on somebody else's lips. But.

I read this man's work, what he had up. And I kind of like it, I kind of don't. He vaguely reminds me of somebody that I miss. And I guess what is bothering me is the whole "stranger" thing. I want to say, "Hey, you and I and everybody on earth that we don't know, we should all sit at the counter and order Cokes. I need to know you." And then perhaps it wouldn't be quite so jarring.

Storms

One of the things that I miss the most about our old home is the rain. And while I was there, I loved the rain but missed the storms. The rain in that area is weak. It crawls on all fours, mewling. The desert has these amazingly brutal storms. The ground is cracked and dry, and suddenly the sky opens and everything is washed away.

The wind is ripping the oleander apart. It reminds me of a tiger shark thrashing when it has something in its mouth. It's absolutely delightful, and for some reason storms remind me of why I want to write in the first place. That feeling.

Nina is asleep, snuggled up next to an old doll of mine that I was mildly apathetic to. Niko and I are going to go out and watch the sky. He laughs at the wildness just like I do. We have so many differences, but when it comes right down to it, so many things are the same.

Hiding

My father always said that the phone was for our convenience. Which means that if it rings two billion times a day, I'm under no obligation to answer it. And so I'm not. This is a healing time, and I'm focusing on Eskimo kisses with Niko, and making Nina giggle, and trying to get my health under control so that I can feel almost human. Go to the bottom of this page and click on the song "Sora". I am going to sink under the waves for a while and let all of the extra noise pass me by. My real friends know how to find me, anyway.

Black Hair

Niko Has Wheels

This month has been straight out of the Twilight Zone. For instance, we have one debit card that we weren't forced to cancel...and today we lost it in the mall. So we ran right home to cancel it. At least we were laughing, and I can see how bizarre it really is. "Remember the great May catastrophe of 2008?" we'll say. And shudder.

Thank goodness it's almost June.

Did I Mention That I Hate This City?

So I'm currently on hold with the bank. Although my cards were reported as lost or stolen on Thursday, somebody has managed to put more charges on them. A woman from my hometown called me regarding them. "Gol, Sade, I can see that your cards were reported as lost or stolen. I don't know how this got through!" Thank goodness she called. I am all kinds of mad, but that's another story for another time.

See how calm I am? This is me being calm.

I'd love to shove my wallet into their mouths and make them choke on it.

If It Weren't For Bad Luck

I wouldn't have any at all. My friend's husband told me this, and it comes as no surprise. Pisces are supposed to be lucky things, but somehow that has never applied to me. I think it's a family curse.

Most of Thursday morning was spent in the doctor's office because Niko's sweet cherubic breath had turned to something you'd find in a mausoleum. Turns out he had shoved paper up his nose, which is what you do when your leg is broken and you're incredibly bored. Dr. Dork enlisted my help to "blow it out" so that the "foreign object will shoot out of his nose like a cannon". Which. It didn't. Hijinks and hilarity ensued, and not everybody needs to know the details. Let's just point out that a mother's love is the strongest thing on earth, and Niko's nose is currently spitwad free. The end.


Later that day, I lost my wallet. I noticed only when two different companies called because there was suspicious activity on my accounts. I was livid. LIVID, I say. How dare these people?! How dare they use my credit and debit cards, and slime their greasy fingers over my driver's license? They have my temple recommend. It makes me slightly ill. We went to Andrea's wedding, which was beautiful, and I had to tell them that somebody vile was in possession of my wallet and my recommend. Luckily the stake president was home and was able to confirm that I did, in fact, have a recommend, and I was able to attend the wedding. Also, they can flag my recommend so that if somebody tries to use it, it'll come up as stolen. Which makes me comforted, and also makes me smile. I can't imagine somebody using my stolen recommend because they have the sudden hankerin' to worship God inside of our temple. Then I ran home to Mom and Dad, and my blood sugar went way, way up while my stress went way, way down.


I saw '80's mom for the first time in years. I hugged her so hard and we cried, and I didn't want to let her go. She showed me '80's grave, and it's cheery. I was taken back by how bright and joyful the whole cemetery was, and felt that her headstone and everything was just perfect. I felt some of the guilt leave. I think I'm almost free.

I have new rollerskates. The charming, four wheeled ones, not blades. While the rest of this city falls down around me, I'll be skating along lazily like a child. With black hair. All of this, it makes me very happy.

Last Hurrah

I had better start using my camera again. I want to get a picture of Niko in his wheelchair, and Princess Pretty Fingers pretending that she's drinking from my cup. I want to get more pictures of my red hair before I dye it black this weekend. I think that the red has run through my system, and I'm ready for a change. But only semi-permanent. When I've had my fill of that, I'm going to go back to blonde. I'm naturally a blonde, for those of you who have no idea.

And most of you have no idea.

I had lunch today with the old primary presidency. It was nice and a little sad, a last hurrah before one of us moves out of state. We ate delicious Italian in a fancy new kitchen and I listened for the "ssssssss" sound of Niko dragging his cast across the floor and into trouble. Nina was full of smiles, as always. I'm still not quite sure where she comes from, but I'm so very happy that she is here.

After lunch we rushed to Niko's doctor's appointment, and I was floored to hear that his bones hadn't shifted this time. So after talking to the doctor/wheelchair company/teacher/principal/nurse/transportation/early childhood department, everything is in place for Niko to go back to school tomorrow. I am very pleased, and we see the doctor again in three weeks for (hopefully) a walking cast.

Tomorrow is his sedated echo. (Hate them.) Next week is his dentist's appointment. (Hate them, too.) We have a busy weekend, driving back to my hometown and then attending a wedding for one of my oldest friends, then heading back. I am planning to visit '80's grave for the first time. I wonder how that will be.

Seven Things About Me

Thanks for tagging me, Andrea! I'll see you soon! :)

1. When I get completely mortified, I can keep my face schooled. I send all of my emotion down to my feet, and I curl my toes.

2. I have never seen Star Wars. More importantly, I don't ever care to.

3. I can make one eye look straight and the other one look at my nose. Flattering.

4. I harbor the secret fantasy of being a Rat City Rollergirl. Seriously. I have my handle all picked out. I'd be The Bloody Butterfly. And I would be GOOD.

5. My next big purchase is going to be an open holed flute. I'm upgrading.

6. I used to do pageants in high school. That's right. Evening-gown-wearing, bright-smiling, gluing-your-swimsuit-to-your-bum-so-it-doesn't-ride-up beauty...no, excuse me, SCHOLARSHIP pageants. I wasn't that great, but I know how to work a dress. Which really impresses the congregation, I just know it.

7. I always laugh at Jeremy Miller's quote on the McDonalds "Dollar Menuaires" commercial. "They live like money grows on trees...trees they can't find!" It's hysterical. I can't help it.

Aftermath

I talked to Niko's principal on the phone this morning, explaining why I called the school district. It eventually boils down to: No matter what it was that they INTENDED, the message that I received was "Niko is unwelcome." That message nearly undid me, and I am a strong woman. I needed somebody to talk to them so that somebody else doesn't feel the way that I felt. I certainly don't plan to pursue it any farther.

So there's two and a half weeks of school left. Luke feels that Niko should finish school there, and I feel that would be sending him into a hostile environment. I honestly don't know what to do. But isn't that usually the case? How much time do we spend honestly not knowing what to do? Next year he transfers to a different school anyway for kindergarten.

It's 107 degrees here today, which is inhumane. Nina is wearing a little red skirt with stars, and Niko has been so happy, and hasn't had any pain medication since last night. I bought these incredible dark purple stilettos the other day, and my goal tonight is to paint my toenails. You know, after everything else is done. That's been my goal since last Wednesday. Ah well.

I currently have seven pieces out. I'd like to have ten, including soliciting an agent for my novel this week. Such lofty dreams have I. But now that everything is settling down, these things aren't too far fetched. Hurrah!

This thing with the school, and Niko's leg, and the thing at church. It had become all consuming. It was like Niko was a baby again, and every day was spent falling asleep next to him at the hospital. It was like I told the principal. There is no day off. We are always working on something with him. There is no relief, so when school, which we count on to aid us, becomes part of the problem, it's almost unbearable.

I don't want to be this type of mother. I don't want to always be fighting. I would much rather focus on watching Niko and Nina playing together, or take them for walks. I would rather cuddle my children than set them down so that my hands are free for battle. I want to work on letting all of this go.

I want to be who I really am.

Oh, gosh.

I walked into the IEP and was stunned to find that the main person that I wanted to talk to wasn't there. Oh, come on! Can't we finally iron this out?

I talked to his teacher, who said, "Oh no! That isn't what we meant at all!" She, too, seemed a little taken back by the way that the whole thing played out, which was a relief. She is a kind, wonderful woman who has worked very hard with my son. He's enamored with her face, and I was loathe to think that somehow there had been a paradigm shift that put her on "the other side". What a relief to confirm that she is who she always has been, an advocate for Niko.

They could see how it appeared to me, though, and that is also a relief. The woman I had the most trouble with tends to come across poorly, they said, but she really isn't that way. I am very much hoping that when I talk to her, things will resolve. Without bloodshed. I have been ready to make heads roll, but my anger is quick to diffuse if I see that they're making an effort.

In other news, this was the most positive IEP ever. Niko has been doing well, and it was nice to hear that for once. Such a good kid, he deserves some good things in his life.

So the end result is that the IEP was a success. You might hear some tired cheering in the background. That would be me.