It's been awhile since I've written a blog, but that's probably not surprising. I have had a few entries started in my head that I never began. This week I've been feeling especially frustrated working at the office. Not to mention especially socially inept - that's everywhere, though. I was having one of those days where I kept getting involved in a conversation and I swear, it seems if I do that with someone I don't know well and not yet even a little at ease with, talking for more than five minutes makes me stupid. I do that thing where I can feel myself sweating and even shaking a little - then all thoughts go out of my head. Ugh, it makes me so mad at myself. Yet, on the flipside, sometimes I can talk to people (maybe it's for a lesser amount of time or because I am around someone else who I am friends with and they are, thus, my buffer) and I feel full of energy afterward. I'll be bouncy-happy and feeling good about myself.
The frustration at the office is, I think, mostly related to the atmosphere there (usually pretty negative), the fact that I feel behind on almost everything and the fact that I really don't feel like I am doing anything to advance myself forward in life. The closest thing to being creative that I have gotten to do recently was making a coupon for my boss's husband's business. It's just tiring and I feel like my soul is slowly being sucked away, as much of a cliche as that is.
The library is, as always, sanctuary. But some of the conversations I get into (and later feel lame about) happen there. I guess I could blame it on the fact that, by the time I get to that job, my energy has already been sucked dry by the first. I'm really trying to deal with it, but I swear, most days I find myself fantasizing about running away somewhere.
Which reminds me: I am attempting to write a list of things I'd like to do in the city and I could use some suggestions. Just a list of things I've been meaning to look into, places I've meant to go, etc. I have a decent list so far, but I am sure I am forgetting things. Feel free to leave me ideas in my comments if you actually read this. I've been contemplating learning something new or brushing up on something that would make me happier, because I feel like I need something to look forward to that isn't still so far away. Swing dancing comes to mine quite frequently.
Most nights, I am writing or at least editing my book. That's good at least - that my motivation and commitment have improved, at least in regards to that. I've been reading a little more lately, too. I finished the first Francesca Lia Block book I've read in ages (The Necklace of Kisses) and it's funny how I feel like I've grown up with these characters. It's also strange -in a good way - how they seem to come at the right time (the Weetzie Bat books always have, that is) and somewhat mirror my life. I remember being young and starting the first book in that series - the language was so lovely and filled with colors and foods and sparkly things. Later, when I read some of her other books - Violet & Claire or Girl Goddess #9, for instance - and it seemed like it wasn't the same. For awhile I was wondering if she was even writing her own books anymore. There was more pop culture or something - somehow it seemed a little off. Now, years later, I kind of like this. I like that, among all her references to fairies and mythological creatures are references to Hedwig and the Angry Inch or Claire Danes. There's a blurb on the book that even says something about how she mixes realism with mysticism (or something like that) and it's the perfect way of putting that. But despite my rekindled love for Block's tales, I do find myself missing the way they made me feel ten years ago. Did her writing change or did I?
I had a brief conversation with another shelver recently about the books we read as children and pre-teens and have had a conversation (sort of) on Facebook about the queer fiction I've read. I like that all these book conversations have happened recently and it's interesting how all these things seem to happen at the same time.
It's a good time for fiction in my life - an escape, I guess.
Besides the list of things I want to do or places I want to go around the city, there is the ongoing list in my head of things outside the city. The places I want to go: Vermont, San Francisco, Portland/Seattle, Arizona, Hawaii (when I am old), France, London, Canada - and things I want in my life: most recently, a different second job where things aren't so chaotic and where I can be more creative (because I have really started to hate that office). I'm so grumpy lately, too, from being so tired and professionally dissatisfied.
Moving right along (so I don't start screaming), I also finished reading an instructional book on writing by Walter Mosley (probably best known for his mysteries) and that was somewhat helpful. It gave me a different lens to look at my own writing through, anyway and it improved my ability to show rather than tell. Not that I was terrible at it, but I think my writing can be a little lackluster. It needed more glimmer and spice, so to speak.
Other things as of late: I went to see both Coraline and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, attended a couple of parties (back to back) with people I'd never met before this past Friday (one of which consisted of a group of Asians singing Karaoke - I was reminded of Lost In Translation - and me being the only Caucasian there) and went to a much-discounted performance of Too Much Light..., followed by dinner at Andie's (where we also celebrated Valentine's Day last month).
Last month: yes, we are already in March. In fact, today was the first death anniversary of my year. I acknowledged it when I wrote the date today, but I am not dwelling. It's not to say that I won't be sad and think about them, but I don't want every year at my parents' birth and death days to be a day of mourning. So I'm going to try to make this the last time I mention it in a public arena without something more enlightening to say on the subject.
Now, I guess I will go have tea and do something else.