So Long, 2010

I find it hilarious that having the word "boobs" in my post drives up my blog's hits by a lot.

Debil kitteh will eat ur soul!!

Well, here’s my last blog post of the calender year. Sort of an arbitrary thing, I feel like, this whole “zomg new year new things new goals rah rah rah” feeling people get. Back in the middle ages March was when the new year began, in part because it was ZOMG SPRING AND THINGS CAN GROW. XD Which, honestly, feels much more like a time of renewal to me, but whatevs.

You may or may not know this, but I don’t believe in making New Year’s Resolutions. Setting a time limit on a goal feels constricting to me, and while I do have a general idea of things I’d like to do in the next six to twelve months of my life, those things are re-evaluated constantly, not once a year. For instance, I got the sudden urge a few months ago to take a trip to Ireland, because I had a dream about it. I did some research and came up with a rough estimate of the travel costs, and now that’s one of my general goals, is to visit Ireland sometime in the next few years (and possibly Scotland and/or England while I’m in the area). I did the same thing calculating the cost of a trip to New York City, which is something I hope to do much sooner (perhaps next fall, around my birthday…).

A few things that I would like to happen this year are to get a full time/”permanent” job (there’s been some talk about hiring me on at my current temp job, but nothing has been done or said about it concretely, although I did submit a resume). I also have two dolls I would really, really like to buy (well there are way more I want eventually, but the two I’m thinking of are top of the list). I’d like to be able to start swimming regularly again (despite my anti-weight loss stance, I do enjoy swimming as exercise and am generally happier and healthier when I am more active than I’ve been the past few months). I’d prefer to stay more on top of my housework (especially dishes and laundry). And I’d like to knit a sweater for the first time.

I will not think of those things as things I have to be trying to do all the time, or of myself as a failure if one or most of them don’t happen. Striving toward my goals is something I always want to be doing, but self-pity and disappointment don’t serve any real purpose. Besides, I know myself well enough to know that punishment is not a good motivator for me. ;D

I hope all of you have a happy new year, that you enjoy the rest of 2010, and that you have a safe evening (especially if you’re going out). May 2011 be good for everyone. ❤

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Forehead and TMI

OMGWTFCREEPERCHELSEA!!

My boobs are totally and completely not perky when I have my bra off.

I have no brain tonight. ENJOY WEIRDNESS.

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I Am Me 100%

This is my "I am so tired I don't give a fuck anymore" face. About the picture, that is. XD

It’s safe to say that in an average week, I call my mother two or three times. Sometimes I call just to hear her voice, because I miss her. Sometimes I call because I’m bored and want someone to talk to, but I’m not sure if any of my friends are available. Sometimes I call because I’m stressing out over something and need someone to calm me down. Sometimes I call to tell her good news, but more often I call to rant over someone being stupid or the world being unfair or some such. In other words, I call her all the damn time, because she’s my mom and I know that 99% of the time she’ll listen to what I have to say and have something soothing, funny, or cheering to say about it.

This week has been busy enough for me that I haven’t called her since Sunday, though (and that was a “oh hey I managed to drive home in the snow without dying” call). So tonight she called me to check in and see if anything was happening. While we were talking about not much, I mentioned the “Artists and Muses” entry (which she “liked” on Facebook, so I know she read it and liked it, she’s not one of those people who “likes” everything). And she said something that made me feel quite bemused. “Yeah, I was kind of confused, you wrote that really great entry on Monday, and then yesterday you posted that totally weird stuff!”

What a handy reminder that while I love my mother, and she is my biggest supporter, there are parts of me that she has never and will never understand. And thank goodness for that. XD

When I was younger, I was often confused and hurt when someone I knew reacted with surprise or consternation at something I did or said. Somewhere along the line, I had gotten the idea that a person has to accept and understand every single part of your personality for them to really love you, and so I wondered if the “weird” and “wrong” parts of me were why my mother seemed to like my older brother more (this is what I thought back then, I know better now) and why I never really had any friends. I sometimes thought my dad loved me more than my mom did, because he seemed to “get” me a lot more than she did (we do share the same sense of humor).

It’s taken a long time for me to realize that while I am myself all the time, I’m not always the same person to everyone. And when I slip up and show a bit of me to someone who’s not used to it, who doesn’t usually see it, and has no context for it, they’re bound to react with surprise. And one of the things about blogging is that I am always changing who I am for posts.

On Monday, when I was writing that post, I was writing it for everyone. I wrote it in language that got the point across and sounded nice, without too many exclamations or words I usually use when I talk out loud. Yesterday, I was writing a post for myself, and my best friend, and my friend Casey. They’re the only ones besides me who have any idea what any of it meant, and have context for it, because I’ve been telling them about the project (possibly a novel someday) that it’s related to. I mainly wrote it on here because neither of them were online, so I couldn’t just IM them, and I wanted it to be somewhere they could read it later, in case I forgot to tell them whenever I saw them online next (and also it needed to be written down, lest I forget it, I have a horrible memory).

So try to keep that in mind, when you’re reading this little blog of mine. ;D The posts I make aren’t always going to be something you, as the reader, totally understand. I do try to make the majority of the posts accessible to any random stranger who may click by, but every so often I will probably show a bit of myself you aren’t used to seeing. And it’s okay if you don’t understand or care for that part of me. I promise, soon enough there will be another post that you’ll be able to relate to.

Human beings, on average, are quite complex beings. On any given day, I spend a significant amount of time (at least half an hour) thinking about each of the following: food, knitting, work, reading, writing, story ideas, conversations, social skills, clothes, shoes, video games, music, singing, my physical state, what I have to do by the end of the day, what I have to do by the end of the week, sunlight, the sky, my age, the people around me, intelligent discourse, baking, cooking, groceries, errands, money, yarn, people I know in real life, people I know online, blogging, social justice movements, equality, languages, made up languages, and the list continues. Those are just what I spent five minutes thinking of just now, but I know there’s more. Chances are that there are quite a few things on that list that don’t really interest you, reader. And those things are different for each person reading this. My best friend has no interest whatsoever in shoes, and doesn’t really understand why I have been so gung ho about them since finding some I could buy. My mother has no idea why I would spend time thinking about video games or made up languages. The point is, all of that is me. I don’t really expect anyone to understand or care about everything on that list. But it is all me, just the same. Aspects of what make up Chelsea. And even though I am not blogging about every single one of those things every single day, they’re still very much a part of my mental makeup.

I’m always me, but very few people get to see every part of me. ;D

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Alien Fantasy

I'm quite tired today. I may go to bed by 9 tonight.

So I’ve been working on plotting out this grand novel that’s taken up residence in my head lately. The most intriguing part for me has been working on the alien language. Honestly, it’s mostly just made up of random sounds I make and then think sound cool, but still, I’m trying to keep it fairly consistent. Here’s a few words and phrases I’ve come up with so far:

Shuaranik – Beloved People. The word the aliens use for their own race. Shuar is “beloved” and anik is “people” or “ones” or “race” (depending on context).

Tireth – Darkness. The aliens think of darkness as a beautiful, nurturing thing, not as a scary or bad thing.

Suret – Silence. Again, silence is something to be admired. They don’t like loud noises. XD

Koulas – Strength. This word can also mean “headstrong” or “stubborn” in certain contexts.

Fureen – Brilliance. Brilliance is the idea behind this word, but the literal translation would be more like “gleaming” or “lustrous”. Think of the gentle glow of phosphorescent moss, rather than metal shining in the sun.

Selis – Knowledge. This word does not mean “intelligence”, just pure knowledge, or “book learning”, to be blunt. A library could be described with this word, but a person usually wouldn’t be.

Pukaranik – Lost Ones. Pukar is “lost” and anik is same as above. “Pukar” has various undertones of “accident” and “left behind”.

Tuajanik – Betrayed Ones. Tuaj is “betrayed”. “Tuaj” is an extremely negative word, not to be used lightly.

Torek batto, Shuaranik. Miraj etal. Miraj etal. – “Go home, Beloved People. Leave us be. Leave us be.” The central phrase in a much longer chant, used by those who want the aliens gone for good. They use the alien’s word for themselves so there won’t be any confusion who they’re referring to, but there’s absolutely no love lost between the two groups. The most militant use “Shuaranik” as an insult, but this is not a widespread practice. When spoken, the repeated phrase is elided enough that it sounds like one word, but it is not.

Tireth Shuar – Beloved Darkness. In this language, modifiers are placed after the noun, except when combined into one word. Therefore, Shuartireth would be “Beloved Darkness” as well.

I’m really just making this up as I go along, which means there may be some contradictory things, but I’m trying to be somewhat consistent. XD We’ll see what happens.

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Artists and Muses

I'm really proud of today's blog post. I hope you all like it.

Here is one of my current theories about the world. “The mark of an artist is that they are never truly happy unless they are creating.”

Please don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean that to be exclusive. Quite the opposite, in fact. Anyone who finds pleasure in the act of creation is an artist. Daydreamers, writers, painters, knitters, mechanics, engineers, architects, Game Masters, musicians, grant writers, the list is endless. It doesn’t matter if the end product means anything to anyone else, or if it’s a full time job or merely a hobby. Some creations don’t make it past the planning stages, and some never even cross the barrier between thought and action. It is said that some composers hear music in their heads constantly, from which we can infer that only a fraction of it ever gets written down.

This also doesn’t mean that an artist delights in every aspect of their chosen craft. The seeds of destruction exist in the act of creation, as someone wise once said, and any writer who has to edit their work (cutting out “dead lines”), or any knitter who has to rip out their project, can confirm. If a painter dislikes mixing paint colors, I don’t consider them less of an artist. Isn’t it natural for a musician to prefer to play their instrument, rather than simply tuning it for half an hour?

The point is, you don’t have to be world- renowned to be an artist. You don’t even have to create things other people appreciate. As long as you create, and take joy in creating, you are an artist.

The greatest gift that any artist can be given is not necessarily recognition. Many artists (but not all) crave it, and claim it to be their ultimate goal. Some wish to have the highest level of recognition in their field, while others are content with words of praise from a few close friends and/or colleagues. Still, recognition is not the greatest gift an artist can receive. The absolute greatest gift is an Enthusiastic Listener.

A distinction must be made here, I think. Many artists have people in their lives who love them enough to put up with their talk about their art. They feign interest, but most of the time they don’t understand, or care, about the artist’s creations. These are well-meaning people, but they are in a different category.

An Enthusiastic Listener is someone who not only cares, but is excited to hear about the artist’s ideas and recent creations. They understand, or are willing to learn, enough to be able to give real encouragement and advice. They celebrate successes, and mourn failures, and provide a loving voice of reason when the artist is lost in a passion, either good or bad. The Enthusiastic Listener is not merely a fan, either. They are a source of constant support, but also of criticism, when it is needed. If the artist has too much success and it goes to their head (like wine), they will step up to take them down a peg, even when others are silent. It is often a thankless job, which is why so many “Hollywood stories” about artists feature an Enthusiastic Listener in their life who ends up leaving, in frustration and/or disgust. Being an Enthusiastic Listener springs not only from deep love and appreciation for the artist, but also from a deep-seated belief in the artist’s talent and abilities. I think the idea of a muse must have partly come from Enthusiastic Listeners, as when an artist finds themselves someone who is willing to listen, it often encourages their creative juices to flow more. At least, such is my personal experience.

Many artists go their entire lives without recognition or compensation for their tireless efforts at creation. However, I firmly believe that as long as an artist has an Enthusiastic Listener in their life, their efforts have not been wasted. If even one person recognizes the beauty of what the artist works so hard to create, and encourages them in their efforts, then that is all that truly matters.

This post is dedicated to all the Enthusiastic Listeners in my life; my mother, my best friend Margaret, my friend Casey, and my grandmother Carol. And, of course, to all of you who continue reading my blog! ❤

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Home Again

I am a little tired, but quite happy. ❤

Yesterday was a very fun day. I drove to West Virginia to meet my mother in a little hotel off the highway. She brought the Saki (Boston Terrier) and so I got doggy lovins. And Mom lovins too, of course. We snuggled, we watched a movie (we thought about going out to a movie, but we’d both already seen Tangled and neither of us had much interest in anything else out currently), we had a good dinner (lasagna) with good wine, and talked and laughed and it was wonderful. ❤ It was really just the essence of a lovely holiday celebration. Yeah, I would’ve been slightly happier if I’d been able to see some other family members too, but just seeing my mom was enough to make it a good Christmas. And I got a couple gifts (including a bunch of lasagna to take home as leftovers, plus a piece of my mom’s apple bundt cake which I LOVE) and yeah. It was completely and totally worth it.

Unfortunately, our plans for today were cut short by the arrival of lots of snow. It was snowing so hard by the time I got up (8 AM) that after breakfast we both decided it would be better overall if we went home right away, since it was only going to get worse. And indeed, it snowed the entire way home for me. XD I even had to stop at a rest stop to refill my windshield wiper fluid because I used it all up (admittedly, my washer fluid tank has a crack in it, so it only fills about two-thirds full, but still). I also discovered, when I went to get gas, that I had somehow lost my gas cap. x.x I am going to stop at the auto parts store tomorrow morning before work and get a new one. I think I just forgot to put it back on when I stopped for gas yesterday (I mainly stopped for a drink and windshield fluid, as I ran out yesterday too, which is why I already had some in the car today), which means it’s lying in a gas station parking lot somewhere in WV. XD Ah, well.

All in all, it was a good trip, and well worth the drive. I love my mom. Now, I really should get to bed, as I have work again in the morning (assuming they didn’t fire me for going home sick last week, temps have been fired over less).

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To WV!

Gotta love that morning hair.

I’m making a post now so I don’t have to bring my laptop with me for the trip. Merry Christmas!

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Christmas Eve

I was trying to make a funny face, but I blinked.

And when I saw how it turned out, I had to laugh.

So for those of you who celebrate it, regardless of the circumstances (religious, secular, whatever), I wish you a Merry Christmas.

When I was growing up, Christmas was my very favorite holiday. In recent years, it hasn’t been as happy as I would like, mostly for various reasons out of my immediate control. It is worth stating, though, that when you live alone, and don’t have a lot of local friends who also live alone, there isn’t much chance for celebration on the actual day. Christmas is, by and large, about family. And when your family is far away, and all your local friends spend the day with their families, it can be really lonely.

That having been said, I’m pretty happy tonight. Despite physical factors (the cold, my period starting), I feel all right. And tomorrow I am going to drive down to West Virginia to meet my mother. She’s bringing Christmas dinner, and I’m bringing some wine, and we’re going to spend the whole day together, and then the night at a hotel, and then some of the next day before we both head home again. Because she’s just awesome like that, and could tell I was so sad at the idea of spending Christmas alone, that she decided we should just meet halfway. She’s a pretty awesome mom, and I’m really thankful for her. She’s one of the best presents I ever got, just by being born.

And I’m grateful for the other presents I’ve gotten, too. My friend Eva sent me a tin full of delicious baked goods, which are almost all gone already. XD And my best friend told me she’d play a Christmas Bingo card for me tonight (that’s her family’s annual tradition, and I was so hoping I would get to go down there and see her, since she’s in England studying this year), which is also happy-making. And really, I have some awesome friends and family. And most of my sad this time of year is not getting to see them all, but they’re also what makes my life so full of happiness, so I think that’s a pretty good trade-off.

I feel grateful that I have a little apartment that is entirely mine. I have a kitty who is my beloved Purrmeister (that’s one of his many nicknames). I have friends all over the place, and family who love me and are willing to see me and talk with me. I have warmth, and love, and enough to get by, and that’s all that really matters right now.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. ❤

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And yet more sick!

Unwashed, and unwell.

I spent the majority of today in bed again, same as yesterday. I really hope this starts to get better tomorrow, or I am going to have a really crappy time this weekend (I’m supposed to be driving to West Virginia to meet my mom halfway, since neither of us can do the entire 9.5 hour trip, and she doesn’t want me to spend Christmas alone). Driving in the mountains = pressure changes, and pressure changes + congestion = pain. x.x

Anyway, I just took some more Nyquil, so back to bed I go. e.e

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Sick sick sick

Nice glassy-eyed stare there.

I was sent home from work today because I’m sick. I ended up taking some Nyquil around 3 and passed out until about 8:30. Now I’m gonna go do it again. Woot.

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