Novel Eye

Almost everyone who knows me post my relationship with my husband knows the story of how we met: I stalked him at his place of work for a month, and then finally got up the nerve to say, "Um, I saw you like Doctor Who, and I like Doctor Who, and do you want to grab a soda and talk about Doctor Who?" And we hit it off, and have been fairly inseparable ever since, nearly thirty years. And we all say, "Aw, what a sweet, romantic story," right? But in the age of # METOO , I keep t hinking, what if the situation were reversed? If I were a man who stood in the paperbacks every day staring a female worker? That woman would have had security walk her to her car every night. Or what if I were a man who had stalked Nick (Nick's bi-sexuality not-withstanding)? I was eighteen and weighed 105 pounds. Nick's age was unknown to me, and my college roommate pointed out that he might actually have been in high school making me the pedophile (he was actually t...

Episode 8 - Young Adult Lit and Conservative Comedy Episode 8 - Young Adult Lit and Conservative Comedy Loann and Art, in true young boy and girl detective spirit, track down the arguments for and against grown-ups reading Young Adult literature. And, where are all the conservative comedians? Is the comedy industry a liberal stronghold? We also discuss our cultural consumption over the past few weeks. ( Now available on iTunes ) 009 - Tom Cruise & Dragons Underperform and 70's Political Paranoia Today How to Train Your Dragon 2 and Edge of Tomorrow are getting great reviews, (and Loann and Art have each seen one of them.) However, they are not meeting box office projections, so what does that mean for the studios and the stars.   And, 70's movies like The Conversation made audiences feel creeped out about the surveillance state, but where are those stories being told today?

My thoughts are with friends and their families directly touched by the earthquake in Japan and by the resulting tsunami. We run out of money and in many ways we run out of emotion as well. Peru, Australia, New Zealand, now Japan… In a different category, Wisconsin, Prop. 8… Each new and immediate catastrophe pre-empts the one before. Our money and our focus are needed elsewhere. New Orleans is still rebuilding, Iraq is still in pieces, but we must parcel out our love and our money in triage. I can't help anyone cause everyone's so cold Everyone's so skeptical of everything they're told And even I get sick of needing to be sold Though it's only half a month away, the media's gone An entertaining scandal broke today, but I can't move on I'm haunted by a story and I do my best to tell it Can't even give this stuff away, why would I sell it? Everybody's laughing, while at me they point a finger A world that loves its irony must hate the protest sing...

My pets are old--one ancient and one a senior citizen. Mephisto (cat, 20 yrs. old) had a stroke and is blind and deaf. The other senses are fine--he can smell us when we come in and will scream to signal. He can feel and purrs loudly when we hold him in our laps--which he always wants to do as it is his only sensation. The stroke though has left him wandering in circles and he bumps into things, so he is not feeling space the way that he should as a cat. Guinness (dog, 13 yrs. old) is deaf in both ears. The ear canal has been removed from one, and the other is so blocked that it too will require removal. He does not wake when we call to him (he never came) but we use hand signals which seem to actually work better, but you must touch him first to get his attention. We have to be careful to touch him gently if coming up on him as he startles. We have always suspected that his vision and smell were not what they should be, as he would often jump upon encountering things outside, b...

Some mornings I wake up and think, "I want to write a story, start that novel, try something on the page." But rather than walk right in to my laptop which I named "Writer" for inspiration, I have to get ready for work, or if home alone and free, like today, there is the dog to be walked, both animals to be fed and medicated. After my own breakfast, perhaps, and, oh, there is a load of laundry to be started. And I should... If I am so unhappy and underemployed in my current job, then I SHOULD spend every spare moment actively searching for work. Right? But I didn't do it even when happily employed (although sometimes I think that I have never been happily employed--either I liked the work and not the people or liked the people and not the work, and have never until this job liked the money--but that is a topic I've beaten before.) And I write essays/blog posts. They are so easy for me--they're half written in my head before I even sit down at the keyboa...

It has been a good two days. Although it's still crisp/cold for me, the sun is shining and it's still light when I drive home (even better with Daylight Savings coming). I was productive at home and feel energetic about projects for the first time in ages. But here's the dilemma--I have been here (that sense of a real space again) before. Where I clean and begin projects and feel good and optimistic and the real problems I have seem smaller and beyond my control so I worry less. And it always ends. Am I mildly bi-polar? Is it possible to be mildly bi-polar? Bi-polar seems so much the diagnosis of the moment that I am wary of using it. And each time I think, how can I cling to this and make it last and is that even under my control.

To succeed in Social Media be pithy. Often. It is not, as the reoccurring joke goes about writing about feeding the cat, it is finding something interesting to say, not unlike a social gathering, like a party, only you don't really have to face people. This is not particularly pithy, or original and will be swallowed by the great sound of other things. But at least I'm here again. Absent, not Dead.

Back in 2007 I posted this: http://noveleye.blogspot.com/2007/08/mortality-part-2.html and she's still here. Turning 85 today. So she's already lived a more than a year beyond the diagnosis. But something's different. She seems ready to die now. And it's hardening/closing faster, leaving her short of breath. I had to go down and clean up her apt. so she could come home from rehab after a small heart attack and small stroke that have left her blind in one eye. There's so much I could write about it, but I'm still processing--what I feel, what I need. They are saying six months now. We finally had that sort of peace that I was looking for. And now I hate myself for all the wasted years, but I can't do that. They might have been exactly as I feared they would be--all anger and pain. But now I need more time, more time, and that is what we never get.

I'm cleaning out my mother's apartment. She's not dead yet, but they say it's just a matter of time. And it needs to be clean before she can come out of rehab. My mother is a hoarder. My mother is a hoarder's hoarder. We've carted 2 station wagons worth to the thrift store, and this is a three room apartment. We've barely begun. I found a box of Christmas ornaments from my childhood and sat down and cried. I'm finding it hard to function--both because it's a daunting task, and because it renders everything so futile. If we will all end up like this then why should we buy anything now. Much talk with my therapist about this. That we buy things to make us happy now--the future is the future and many people (not my mother) start to weed as they get older--finding less and less that objects are important. I am already less of a purchaser and I have never been the hoarder that my mother is. A collector, perhaps, but when things don't fit ...

...that I am a late bloomer.

So much to say, so much to share, and time fugits , as it were. Guinness does have diabetes. Husband sick again. Old friend killed herself. That brought other friend to town and has prompted a strange, good and not entirely in my control meeting up with friends. Work busy and even occasionally busy with things I like doing (design, planning) but still the feeling that I'm rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic, as it were. Have been working out almost regularly as the avatar attests. Both swimming and Pilates . Have been working on managing the weight as well--portion control. Not much weight loss so far, but feel more toned. Trying to add things in little doses. The tiny steps. One desert skipped today. One more exercise class per week. One piece of trash picked up off the floor. One more friend connected with...

In the first part of the month, Mephisto was in the hospital, and will be on $125/month medicine for the rest of his life. Now Guinness may have diabetes with all that that entails. Took the car in for its 30,000 mile check up--good to do, but damn expensive, and the rich wonder why the poor don't invest in maintenance. All in all, an expensive month--husband's bonus and tax returns all taken up. And what do I cut so that I can save more to get to that mythical nest egg?

I can't seem to get back into posting every day. First husband was sick, then cat was sick, now I'm sick. Work continues to be less than fulfilling. I have actually been somewhat productive in other ways. I've been only touching Facebook . I made this: It's a wall hanging for my b&w and yellow bathroom. I call it "Time in the Labyrinth." I've been collecting the scraps for years although I had to supplement with purchased fabric. The stripe at A5 and C3 came from a sink skirt in our house in western MA. The little checkerboard from a border on another wall hanging. The patterns at C6 and F3 from that purse from last year. I picture it as a sort of game. One can follow the patterns or the dark appliqued path (which is shorter but has more obstacles). One would move one or two spaces using either a coin, button, or perhaps an Othello piece. I also made a new coat, but I have some finishing to do on it, so hopefully will have a picture tomorrow.

I got tagged for this on Facebook and I didn't know how to respond. It's supposed to be the albums that mean the most to you, but many people are listing albums which are considered great albums. And I like great albums--I'm not one of those singles only kind of people--but in terms of my top albums I came up at sort of a loss. I didn't spend my money on music in my teenage years and so the list is limited to my favorite artists. So I decided I needed to explain my choices. 1. The Wizard of Oz , original movie soundtrack. What can I say. This movie/album was the end all, be all for me, up to about 7. I had all the books, the play sets , the dolls, I even saw Margaret Hamilton in one of her last performances as the Witch. I wore down the grooves (isn't it nice that that is a thing of the past?). 2. At 8 it was replaced with Camelot (original Broadway recording). It was just the perfect show for me. I read The Once and Future King and The Mists of Avalon and any oth...

So I finally got the crown on Friday--quick and painless. Seems to fit well--so well that the dentist had trouble removing it after testing it to put on the cement. Even with the length of the process (pretty much a month) I still prefer it to a breast exam. I'm not kidding. The tooth is smoother and rounder than my other teeth and I find myself worrying it with my tongue--though not as much as I did the temporary which felt like a lump of cold hot glue gun glue and tasted a bit like my fake vampire fangs. It also seems strangely the wrong temperature, but I can't quite decide if it is colder or warmer. It feels like a slightly misshapen marble in my mouth. I am sad that my old tooth had to be filed down--like I've lost something important--no going back now. As though I have taken my first steps toward becoming a Cyborg.

I went on a job interview on Friday. This should be a good thing as I must, must, must get away from my current job, but it's not the ideal job for me. Basically I would be a wholesaler for a home health aide company. I would dine and schmooze people who could/would refer patients to this home company. But here's the thing. I hate schmoozing. I hate making phone calls. I barely call my friends. I can be that person--act like that person--that extroverted person, but it's only an act, and I find it tiring--Novel as people person. I do it for interviews, auditions, etc. I think I do it pretty well, but it's not who I am. The friend who recommended me thought that I was a people person. But, the boss was sane and pleasant and quiet and calm, and committed to working together and helping grow the business, and focused and intelligent. I'd be working with an old friend (who called me in for it) and I wouldn't even have to work in the office as long as t...

In case you are not on Facebook and have not otherwise heard, 25 Things is the newest, greatest sociological thing, ever. So I'm reprinting mine here, but I realized that I had two #19's (there is no number 6) so I decided to go on to 30. 1. I own and wear some clothes that I've had since I was 13 including shoes and jewelry. 2. I gain weight first in my hips and thighs and lose it first in my shoulders and chest--always have. 3. I have trouble wearing fitted clothes for any length of time including hose--always have--it makes me feel claustrophobic so I've always favored baggy clothing (this may have contributed to number 1). 4. I have been known to eat and enjoy raw oatmeal including the instant kind in the little envelopes, uncooked batter of almost any kind (pancakes, bread), powdered drink mix as candy, orange peels and lemon wedges with sugar (peel and all). I have even eaten raw spaghetti, but I can't recommend it. 5. I've only begun to enjoy mustard as...

I often dream of fashions I cannot sew. Last night I dreamt of jewelry and art I cannot make. I lack even the ability to draw them as accurately as I would like so that someone else can make them. I can hear music in my head that I cannot transcribe. Should I take classes to try and learn the skills I would need to bring these to reality? And what would I do with them then? What do I do with the things that I sew and create now? I also dream of stories that I should write and that I can do, but then I grow afraid--thinking of what will I do with it when it's done, when I should just think of getting it down and seeing what it is. Does this happen to other people?

So now I have to get a crown (which I didn't realize was almost always necessary after a root canal--especially in a molar) and I have to decide whether I should go to my regular dentist or to my new dentist. This is my post on trying to figure out the pros and cons of either and it brings up an interesting point that relates to my job. Part of what my company does is coach financial planners on how to get and retain high net worth clients (or any clients, for that matter), and we've had some speakers talk about presentation of office etc. My old dentist, let us call him A, has a beautiful private office in the first floor of what was once a house outside of Davis Square in Somerville . This used to be relatively easy to access from my old address, but is somewhat harder now (it is where I learned to ride a bike ). The waiting room has a TV , and a large array of magazines and some lovely art (because the dentist owns a share in an art gallery on Newbury St.). There are s...

Wouldn't that be a great name for a band? So, I had my first Root Canal on Friday afternoon. At first I wondered what all the fuss was about--nothing worse than a regular filling, but then as it went on and on, and with the ongoing tenderness in my jaw, I'm understanding (although it seems to be receding ) why it has such a bad reputation. I wish I had looked up exactly what was involved before I did it, but perhaps it was better that I not know. Strangely, I feel a certain shame that I needed a root canal at my age. As if I do not take good care of my teeth. As one might feel shame that one had lice or bed bugs. I had gotten a filling in late summer and afterwards experienced much tenderness which I attributed to a bad bite form and the dentist kept filing away but finally around Thanksgiving I was having pain and he removed the first filling, added different seal that was supposed to relieve sensitivity but warned me that if I had pain again I would need a root canal. ...