Say cheese!

Artists are free spirits. Artists hate to have boundaries--it's too limiting to their creativity. Both of those statements are common beliefs about those of us in the art world, and yes, I do consider writing to be an art form; although, perhaps not everything that comes out of my mind and through my hands measures up, but you get my drift. In these two cases, I guess I don't fit the artist mold. I am a writer who does much better with either a date or a person breathing down my neck. If I have story that is due, let's say, in three weeks--I will spend the first 2 1/2 of them simply pondering the story (how I want it to look, sound, feel, etc) and then rush to get it done in the last 3 to 4 days. Does that create stress? Of course. Never said that this strategy was particularly smart, it's just one that is working for me. My latest experiment in this vein was an online writing class I signed up for: Finish your novel in 8 weeks. The premise was great! It gave me a firm deadline to crank out work on a piece that I've been diddling with for months now, and I was excited to go. The end result was a class that talked a lot about the writing process, but there were no firm deadlines, no check ins--pretty much a go at your own pace type of class. If I wanted that, I could have done it on my own and not paid the money. But, I consider it a learning experience. Today, though, I signed up for another class. Only this time, I did a bit more research before registering. My next class adventure is going to be in photography (digital, in particular). As a writer who works primarily with feature articles, it is good to feel comfortable with a camera, so I can capture images that go along with my words. The class I'm taking is through one of the local adult education programs and is very structured! Two lessons a week, quizzes and assignments, as well as a final exam. I know how to point and shoot my new camera, but will feel better once I know what makes a good picture, what all the settings are for on my camera, etc. It's a six week course and I can do it from home--so, I'm excited about that, too. If my cousin Jody ever reads this, I hope that she'll be proud of her ol' cuz for actually wanting to learn the art behind the lens---although I'm sure my work will never compare to hers! Although, my subjects will also be never like many of hers, either (and she knows what I mean there!) As I learn, I'll have to post some of the pics I take for my class. The pic in my profile is one of mine, btw. I need to make it a bit larger, I think. So, for those who read this that are near and dear, be forewarned: I may be asking you to say "Cheese" the next time I see ya!

In search of my childhood

From time to time, all of us take moments of our day to look back on our lives and assess the progress we've made. Some days, I feel like the old Virigina Slims ad that goes "You've come a long way, baby!". Yet, others, such as most of this past week, the result of my assessment is more like, "Can those wheels be stuck any further in the mud, Marie?" In my quest to be a writer, I am finding more and more that I'm looking over my shoulder toward by past instead of looking ahead. Sounds counterproductive, right? But, I'm starting to wonder that in order to move forward with my writing that I need to recognize the stories of my past and make sure they are saved, be it for myself or for my children or even anyone else who may want to read them. I have been toying with a memoir piece for quite a while. There are chapters outlined and there is even one completed (well, almost...it needs a quick revision). Yet, as soon as I get elbow deep into it, I hit a wall. It feels as though that there is a psychological block that is preventing me from making progess. Then, this week, I've had a number of dreams about the place where I spent most of my childhood. People, places and images of my past visit me in my sleep as if to say, "We're here...we've found you. Come find us now." I shared this with my best friend, Heidi, and wondered if these dreams mean that I need to "go home" in search of my childhood. Heidi seemed excited by this prospect and offered her companionship should I decide to make the 5 1/2 hour trip. The idea is interesting. It's been two decades since I left New York with my family. I'm not even sure what, if anything, from my childhood is still there. But, the more I think on it, the more I wonder if it's time to go find out. But, truth be told, I'm also a little scared. While many of my childhood memories are good, there are just as many that are disturbing. I've spent years trying to move past, well, my past. Deep down, though, I know that the stories of my youth are worth devoting time and energy to, and that anything worthwhile isn't easy. Is a trip to New York inevitable? Let's just say that I've started looking at my calendar and trying to figure out if there is any way to go before my husband goes on an extended business trip...

I kept my promise

Ok, so I promised I'd post tonight. It has been a long 24 hours, and I'm about to fall asleep. After an inexplicable sleepless night and then a stressful day, I'm about to fall over. But, I'm grateful to be able to say that everyone here is ok and tomorrow is another day. I promise to provide something more interesting tomorrow--tonight, I'm just spent. Have a good night...

Getting Plowed

Ok, so here's the first of two entries for the evening. This one will be short, and the other will hopefully be a weekly thing I'll do to exercise the ol' writer's brain (on stuff other than work and the two manuscripts I've become an expert at avoiding ;) ) So, Jon and I are getting plowed tomorrow. It will be the first time for both of us--at least together. I did it once while Jon was out of town, I think, and Jon...well, let's just say that while he lived in Ohio (and before he knew me), it happened a number of times, I'm sure. Since tomorrow is a holiday, Jon is off from work. Erin is going to preschool and Cailyn is going to Angie's to go sledding and play with her friends for the day. Just the two of us. I'm supposed to be working, but we'll see how much of that actually gets done. We've been putting it off long enough and I finally said to him earlier today, "You know, I think it's time we consider getting plowed." Jon took a little convincing, but I can be persistent. After all, I think it's better to find out what it will be like when we can plan ahead a little, rather than wait to the last minute and find ourselves in a heap of trouble. No one can ever say that I'm not a planner. Reluctantly, Jon made the calls necessary in order to make it happen. We have the timing all worked out with the driver, so that we can go pick up the girls later in the afternoon and not have to worry about going off the road or anything. Yes, I think tomorrow will be the perfect time for us to get plowed for the first time together--after all, with 4-7 inches of snow forecast and a broken snowblower, who wants to be out in the driveway, on a day off, with a shovel fighting off all the others getting plowed...damn things only push the snow back into the end of our drive anyway. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.....;)

Argghhhhh!

So, I spent over 30 minutes writing a blog last night--about nothing really important, but just sharing some of my favorite pasttimes and current reads/music interests... But, for some reason, the blog didn't take it!!! Therefore, I give a great big ARGGHHGGH! and will repost later. We're about to head out to Cailyn's dance lessons first, and then she has ski lessons...busy kid. Until later.

Sharing isn't always a good thing

Okay, so, one of the things that parents are supposed to teach their kids is to share nicely. Anyone who has a preschooler--or a child of any age --knows how hard this can be. There is one exception to this rule: illness. Oh, do kids love to share the germs! Ask my 3 year old to share a doll or a toy, and it's like the world is coming to an end sometimes. But, the moment she gets sick, Erin decides it would be lovely to pass it around. I usually avoid the creepy crawlies the kiddies bring home from school and day care, but now that I'm not teaching full time, I think my resistance has lowered a bit. Anyway, Erin hasn't been feeling so hot lately, but has been fighting it off like a trooper. But, when she woke up this morning, she had a low grade temp and a weird rash. Off to the pediatrician we went. When we saw Dr. Dramko (who is AMAZING....), he was a bit puzzled. In the end, he decided to do a strep culture, although he doubted that was the cause. Well, less than 5 minutes into what should have been a 7 minute test, he comes back in an said, "Wow, well...it took about 1 minute. She's definitely positive." When I had mentioned that I hadn't been feeling so hot, he strongly suggested that we toddle over to my dr for me to get the blasted culture. Sure enough, off we go and the dr. sticks that huge q-tip in the back of my mouth--BLECK...Same thing...a big fat +. So, Erin understands the concept of sharing. See, kids do comprehend what we try to teach them--they just have selective hearing. Here's hoping the antibiotics kick in shortly...

Top Five Reasons Why I'm a Geek....

Well, it was made official tonight, although I still dispute the results. I suppose that I've been in denial long enough. It's time for me to stand up and take ownership: My name is Marie....and I'm a geek. I guess it's really not the fact that I'm a nerd that's too shocking to me. Hell, I've been known as a geek, a nerd, a freak for more years than I care to admit. However, NEVER in my life did I think that I would rank higher on a nerd test than an engineer--namely, my husband! Thanks to my best gal pal, and you know who you are (HEIDI!--who has her own blog--go check it out: Heidi's Daze [there's a little plug for you, girlfriend]), Jon and I took this little fun test to see who was the bigger nerd. Now, Heidi was proud to be able to say that her husband scored way higher on the test than she. So, of course, with my husband being an engineer and much deeper in geek territory than I ever thought I would be, I was pretty confident that I would be bragging right beside my best friend... WRONG WRONG WRONG According the this test (the validity of which I'm still determined to contradict, btw), I am 15 points MORE of a geek than Jon. Don't get me wrong--Jon is not a typical geek (yes, he wears glasses, is an engineer and loves gadgets and gizmos, but that's pretty much where most of the similarities end). But, he took CALCULUS for God's sake! Me? I barely made it through Trig and did pretty well in Stats. All of that kind of thinking is just foreign--give me words over numbers any day! Nevertheless, in spite of my protests to these bogus test results, I have decided to step forward and take ownership of my geekiness. I may not agree that I'm more of a geek than my other half, but there is no denying the fact that I have what it takes to be declared a nerd. Now, I would never consider myself an expert to the point where I would be able to say what makes a geek and what doesn't. Overgeneralization is a terrible thing, after all (although EVERYONE DOES IT...LOL). So, I've created the top five reasons why I feel that I'm a geek. These are in no particular order...therefore, feel free to comment/rank them as you'd like: 1. I like the news. I check it online and on the air constantly over the course of the day. I have always been a current events freak...from headlines to sports to business. I'm all over it. 2. Weather fascinates me. How much? To the point that I find myself watching the Weather Channel for those damn Storm Stories specials and for the special storm watch reports with Paul Kocin--the "Godfather of Shitty Weather", as I have affectionally named him. I follow weather reports when I know a storm is coming and even enjoy making my own predictions. Hell, I even have a patented little snowstorm making ritual that is known to a special few. The "Dance of the Snow Day Fairy" is potent stuff, folks. Got us two snow days this week, and it hasn't failed me, yet...EVER. What's really sad is that my dad used to be glued to the radio all of the time when I was a kid and I gave him loads of crap about it. He's laughing up there in heaven right now....although I'm not sure that God would appreciate a man sitting up there and laughing like a maniac... 3. The computer has become an extension of myself. From the internet, to blogging, to word processing and desktop publishing...my work and leisure revolve around this damn machine. All I can say is--thank God I didn't have access like this when I was in school (back then, there was no internet..), otherwise my geek status would have severely been tested. 4. For some reason, I am able to retain odd bits of trivia, although I know for a FACT that my husband has me beat on this one. Still, I love playing Trivial Pursuit because my knowledge specialty is really General Knowledge: I just know a lot of shit about things that I'm not even sure how or why I know it. Guess it was from sitting in the front of the class for all those years. 5. One word: Mythbusters. If you haven't checked it out, go to the Discovery Channel ('nuff said about the geekiness there) and do so NOW. If you have checked it out, you know the goodness of which I speak. I think the title of this blog says it all.... You know, being a geek isn't so bad. After all, it's really not about whether or not someone is a geek, but how someone (me) lives from day to day. Some days, I have my non-geeky days, and others...well... Let me just say this about today: It's now 12:08 and I spent 2 hours of my Sunday night watching the Mythbusters on my TiVo. Me? A Geek? HELL YA!

Educational Clutter....

If you've ever been fortunate enough to play in the damp sand right at the ocean's edge, then perhaps you know what its like to try to dig a hole there. It's a race against time and nature, right? How deep can you get the hole before the water rushes back over it and filling your "masterpiece" with its foam and the sand it pushes along with its unmatchable force? My reality, lately, is a constant race against how much progress I can make before the tide rushes in and knocks the hell out of everything I've managed to accomplish. Today, for example was a great example of this, only the force of nature I had to deal with today was not the beautiful ocean, but rather my beautiful daughters and their seemingly incessant need to destroy all that is good in my house. It is important to note that I am no Martha Stewart. First, this is because I've never served any kind of prison time for illegal stock deals--as if I had the money to do that. But, more importantly, I am not a domestic goddess in any sense. My current decorating style can be described as "kiddie kaleidoscope". There are more toys in my living room and dining room than are in my girls' room. In an effort to make the home "child friendly", I have managed to create a monster: their stuff has taken over my home. My shelves are filled with their toys (when it's actually picked up). Of course, I could be grateful for that, since their stuff has let me avoid the trap of buying all kinds of knick knacks to fill my home with. Who needs LLadro when I have Legos, right? Today, though, I decided that it was time to haul out the girls' room, so that I could maybe put some of the Barbie and Dora stuff out of my sight. But, when I went up there, I realized that I had piles stuffed away from when I tried to accomplish this and managed to get interrupted before. I made some headway, though; I actually cleaned out clothes that haven't fit either of the girls in ages, and toys that haven't seen the light of day in about as long. Now, instead of having stuff spread all over the place, I have it separated into three piles--clothes, toys and books. There's a path to their beds and the rest will be finished tomorrow. A decent day's work. However, when I came downstairs, what do I find in my living room--which I just cleaned out the day before yesterday? Hurricanes Cailyn and Erin had hit again; there was no warning (so much for the power of The Weather Channel.) Fortunately, we've somehow managed to get them to pick up most of it (which is comprised mostly of rubber bands; where they got them, I don't know. All I know is that they're counting them as their putting them away, one at a time. Cleaning and Counting...who would have thought that clutter could be educational? So, I may never have Martha's talent at decorating cakes, folding napkins or having the perfect house. But, I do have kids that can count to 100... That counts for something, doesn't it? :)

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