Writer’s Boot Camp Day 4

May 5, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

The timer is on for 30 minutes and I’m writing, this is one day more than the last time I tried to do this. It’s already starting to have a sort of habit feel to it, I didn’t fight with myself much in order to get to work today, but I also don’t yet really “want” to do it. There are not words I need to write, so it still feels like a chore.

The assignment today is to think about where and when I like to write, and which environment is most effective.

In general, I would say I write best when alone, in a quite familiar place. If there is music to set a mood that is ok, but it can’t have words. Right now 2 in the afternoon on a Saturday, I’m in my home office and the only sound is the hmmmmmm of the computer and chirping birds outside. This is good, I wish it was a little earlier, 10 or 11 am is a better time of day, because at around 3 I take a big dive in my energy level and I just want to take a nap. Today feels like a take a nap sort of day anyway. It’s a nice warm temperature and slightly overcast, I feel like rain might happen at any moment. Laying in my bed right now would be nice, reading or just staring into space, but writing is nice right now also. My writing has a slow meditative feel, I would rather be writing poetry now than this.

The biggest downside to writing at home is all my fun things and chores are here, my tv is here, my cats are here, dirty dishes are here, laundry, coloring books and musical instruments are here. As the timer counts down I am happy for that time to end, because I have other things I want to do. Sometimes it’s beneficial to write other places, where my things aren’t. Quite outdoors places with my Chromebook or a pen and notebook are nice. I write slower of course, but maybe better with more thought and pauses. A cemetery is a great place to write because it’s a park without screaming children. I like the botanical gardens, the least popular parts of the zoo, any beach, museums, hiking trails and lakes. At places like that, it’s easy to get up for a few minutes, do something fun and then get right back to the writing, unlike home where once I get started on another task I’m pretty much done for the day.

I can write at a coffee shop or tourist attraction, but it’s best with a notebook instead of a computer, and I can mostly only write little scenes or character profiles. A busy, noisy place is full of valuable ideas gained from watching people interact with each other. That feeling of watching life happen from outside is very similar to the act of writing fiction. I’m never when I’m writing if I creating a world or if maybe this world is just something I’m watching and recording., like a forgotten dream.

Writer’s Boot Camp Day 3

May 4, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

Today the only task was to make a schedule for when you are going to write. The advice of the book is that you get up an hour earlier and pack in the writing there. This isn’t really going to work for me. I mean, yes, I could get up an hour earlier, but I’m not going to write first thing in the morning. That isn’t when I write. I need to exercise, drink water, take my meds, eat breakfast and do my planner before anything else. If I just jumped into writing first thing I would just stare at the screen for an hour.

20180504_135712 There isn’t really a guideline in the book of how much time I should be at the writing every day. Before this week, in my daily task list, I had “Writing (15 minutes)” and it was pretty far down on the list, so if I changed it to 30 and moved it up that would be 30 minutes more than I was doing last week, but less than I could do.

Last time I attempted the Writer’s Boot Camp day 3 was as far as I got. I filled out the little time chart and said I was going to write 4 hours a day! I didn’t. That was too much of a commitment when just trying to get into the habit. In my opinion, it is better to have small manageable goals that you can actually reach than to have lofty ones that you strive for but can seldom hit.

I feel my last attempt at this was a good example, I was in the middle of a deep depression when I stated this before in late January, early February. My husband had just left me for another woman about 6 weeks earlier. I was angry, hurt, confused, my self-worth was at its lowest point in my adult life. I hated myself, I had been engaging in exercise bulimia, actually bulimia and cutting around that time. The only reason I was able to do the three days I did was that I was on a beach camping trip with my friend Issa, who loves me no matter what, which made me feel a little less like a big pile of trash for a few days.

Once the trip was over I didn’t write, I went back to tequila, exercising about 3 hours a day and hating myself.

A few weeks later I had stopped the cutting, stopped the drinking and was trying to eat a healthy diet. I was feeling a little better emotionally and starting to look for a job, but still, the only non-cat related joy in my life was running and that got taken away from me due to some shitty broken sidewalk. But that is a different blog post.

Anyway, the point is the goal I set was unreachable for the person I was in February 2017. I already felt like the biggest failure in the world, so why bother trying to write 4 hours a day? Writing 3 hours would have been failing as much as writing nothing. So I went with nothing.

I figured why do anything if you know you are going to fail? Hey, that’s sort of a segway to the YouTube channel I just started working on. I’ve never made a YouTube channel before. I always wanted to, but I couldn’t think of a good single specific thing that would get me those “1000 true fans” you need. Fuck, I can’t get 50 true fans for my writing, so I have decided to do a YouTube channel about something not very specific, but that I am passionate about. The working title is “How to be a failure at everything you try”, roll with it, it’s more uplifting than it sounds.

Ok, back to my daily writing time goal.

I am committing to writing 30 minutes every day, for the next 27 days no matter what. If I have to sit here I write “banana” over and over for 30 minutes I will. I’m also committing to writing longer than 30 minutes if I am in the grove, the words are flowing and I don’t have anything else super important that I must to right that second.

Yeah, 30 minutes is less time than it takes to write these blog posts, so maybe I will spend the next 27 days in the masturbatory practice of writing about writing, but yo, at least it’s writing.

Writer’s Bootcamp Day 2- Goals

May 3, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

Part 1 – Writing

Today started with writing for 1 hour before going on to the journaling part.

I spent about the first 5 minutes of that closing browser tabs that had been left open from work.

Then I decided to write the short story I had thought of last night. I don’t have a publication in mind for this one, no deadline or theme, just entertaining myself and getting into the habit of writing again.

After 55 minutes or so of writing, I have 1109 words and a respectable beginning to a short story.

writing It was fun and easier than I remember it being, I just moved my fingers and words came out. Maybe not great words, maybe not interesting words to form a story that anyone would want to read, but words. The time flew by, time always seems to go really fast when I’m writing. I love writing when I’m doing it for the pure pleasure of itself, I get so much joy for the act of telling stories. When I was a kid it was my escape from my scary life.

But in the working world of an adult, writing isn’t just a fun, cathartic thing I like to do. Each moment has to be justified because each moment I spend writing is time that I am not doing something else that needs to be done. Like today I can write because I am off for a few weeks and I can say this 30-day project is a stepping point in the long-term goal of turning this into my job. There is no way the person I am currently could have just done this because she wanted to, the guilt would have burned away all the joy and creativity. Even as it was several times in the last hour I thought about the “more important” things I could be doing. The things I have to get back to in just a few minutes after I do the other half of today’s assignment.

Part 2 – Goals

The book says I need goals, I can’t just flit around writing whatever, whenever for the next 28 days. I need a focus. I need to name the project and make a folder on my computer. I need a schedule, a plan so that I can evaluate if I’m being successful or not.

This is where I panic and this boot camp thing seems too hard. I suck at making and keeping goals like this. Because I never feel like I have picked the right goals, I feel like someone else needs to give a fuck about what I am doing and validate my choices. But there isn’t anyone. When I was married I tried to get my husband to be my writing “Dom”, but that wasn’t something he was into. And I am clearly not very good at being my own Dom. At this point, I really want to give up and just cry. I’m going to walk away for a second, get a drink of water (cry) and come back, hold on.

Ok, I’m back. Hydrated, dehydrated for like 2 minutes, hugged a cat and played a stupid video game on my phone.

The book (Writer’s Bootcamp by Rachel Federman, I mention that since I’m doing direct quotes) gives examples of goals I could have.

It can be a time goal like “20 minutes a day’

Or it can be a finishable project like “write a short story or essay” or “write a poem to read at a workshop”

It can be working on something bigger like “finish a chapter in your novel”

A year ago when I started this my goal was to edit “Lost in Reflection” that novel I wrote a few years before. To be honest I think that might be why I didn’t get very far last time, well, that and the leg breaking thing. The thought of editing that book makes me want to never write again, it makes me sick to my stomach, it makes me want to jump out of a window. It’s not the book’s fault, in fact, for being the first full novel I have ever written it’s not bad. However….

Editing isn’t fun, it isn’t exciting, it isn’t something I can write much of a blog about.

Work to profit/cost ratio. I worked about 4 hours a day for around 30 days to write it, so 120 hours. I have edited and revised some of it already, but editing takes about twice as much time as writing, so add 240 hours. Then I have to have someone else edit it, get a cover artist and then format it, then publish it (another 20 hours or so). The last self-published book I wrote made about $70 so far. So if I finish this book, paid an editor the least amount I could, say $200, to give it a once-over, and got a cover artist for the least possible amount, maybe $50, it will have cost me 380 hours and $180 to publish a book. That would put me in a super bad headspace.

bojack When I think about I realize this hobby costs me too much money and time, it’s just not worth it. When I think of finishing my book, knowing I don’t have an audience interested in reading it I want to give up and do something that is at least free. I would lose 0$ by watching tv. Doing nothing is more economically sound than being a writer. So, editing my novel isn’t my goal.

Leading us back to the question, what is my goal?

I could write one blog post every day about what I am doing, that’s a goal. But it’s sort of a meta-goal, if my project is writing about my project then I can see possible days in which that doesn’t work. I think doing a blog post every day should be part of my goal, but not the goal itself.

I don’t want this to be a timed goal every day, because I have a feeling that each of these daily tasks will have its own time to finish, I don’t want to feel like I’m racing a clock and I also don’t want to be sitting here with a timer running and have nothing to do.

My instinct is to have a goal with completion built in, like “write and submit 3 new short stories”, 3 stories in a month is reasonable goal, but this doesn’t take into account all the extra time that I would spend searching for markets to submit them, formatting them to guidelines and stuff like that. That stuff needs a totally different challenge. Before I started trying to be a professional writer I had no idea how much time writers spend doing business work instead of writing. The other problem with this goal is what if I finish and publish 3 stories before the end of the 30 days?

Days like this I really wish I had a manager or something. I wish I had someone to tell me what to do. I really enjoyed writing for Dryden House because the publisher, Katie would just tell me what she wanted, when she wanted it and then bully me until I did the work. I miss that.

I’m over 2 hours in on this today and I still haven’t done the thing I have set out to do.

Ok, I’m going with 3 short stories. They can be brand new like the one I started today or they can be pulled out of my “in process folder”, but not my “finished- needs publishing folder” as that would be cheating. The business side stuff (searching markets, contacting publishers and networking) counts as working, so if it says “write an hour” I’m going to take that to mean “write or do writing business for an hour”

Goal:

In the next 28 days, I will write and submit for publication 3 short stories and blog something about the process every day.

Writer’s Bootcamp Day 1

May 2, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ 1 Comment

I started this 30 Day project last year before my leg was broken, I have been wanting to get back to it since I started to crawl out of my depression, but I haven’t had time. I have a short break from my job, so even though I’m super busy in a lot of ways I’m going to try to make time for this. I honestly don’t think I will finish it, because I know I’m a quitter, but I might as well try.

The first day’s assignment is to write about your dream life as a writer

My Dream Writing Life –

I want to write because I want to matter. I want the words in my head to mean something to someone other than myself. I want to change someone’s world the way my favorite author’s have changed mine. I want to make the lonely feel less alone because they are reading words I have written, words that connect them to me, to life. I want to feel connected to life as well, I want to know I serve a purpose greater than just working for a company and making someone money.

My ultimate goal as a writer isn’t to be rich or famous.

I don’t care to be rich. When you are rich you become important in that others fear you, because you could take away their means of survival. The wealthy have power, the power to ruin the life of another on a whim. If you are rich enough you can have pretty much anyone fired, you can have people arrested for doing nothing, you can sue people who don’t have the means to defend themselves and take away all that they have.

If you are rich you have a buffer between yourself and the rest of the world. Even if you start out a poor or middle-class person as you gain wealth, you rely on others less and less. You stop having real connections, everyone around you becomes a flunky. With wealth comes detachment from the world, and I don’t think you can be a good writer if you are detached. How can you tell the truth if you don’t know it?

coffee I’ve lived in poverty, frankly, I can do without any more of those valuable life experiences. I don’t want to worry about being homeless or going hungry, I shouldn’t have to choose between medicine and food. So yes, I want to make money writing. Enough to buy a cup of coffee and leave a reasonable tip, Enough to pay my rent every month, be able to go to the doctor and buy my medication. To afford to take my cats to the vet. I would like enough money to buy books and magazines, to go to the movies. I want to have enough to go to dinner with friends once a week, to have a membership to the botanical gardens. I want to go to a few local nerd conventions and maybe go on a nice vacation from time to time. I want enough money to buy cute dresses and get a massage sometimes. A little extra for a gym membership would be nice.

I can afford all of these things now with my corporate job, and I can’t give that up to be a writer full time. Hence the dream, the fantasy. Writing iis now and will probably always be side-work, because I have suffered plenty, I have enough suffering to last a lifetime. I’m glad I have these shitty poverty experiences to draw from, but frankly, I could do without adding any more.

In my dream world, I don’t have a corporate job, I write for a living. Some days I work 10 or 12 hours when the muse is upon me, some days I “work” by reading a book or listening to podcasts as I walk around a beautiful park (this is my fantasy world, so I can walk without pain or a cane). Maybe I will be popular enough that I can do a small book signing in a local bookstore, maybe I will speak on a panel at DragonCon. I will go to workshops on writing from time to time making friends with other writers. In my writing dream world, I get paid more than my current average of about $.25 an hour for my work, so I don’t have to work every moment I’m awake to get by. I can have hobbies and friends.

images In my dream world where I am a “real” full-time writer, I respect myself, which is something I haven’t done in a few years now. In my fantasy, I express myself every day, telling the stories that currently clog up my head, releasing the anger and depression that they seem to cause if left untold. I think that my work is worthy, that I am worthy. I have earned my right to be and to be loved. In my fantasy I don’t feel like a useless lump of meat, taking up space clinging to a life I neither want nor deserve.

Spring Cleaning with the KonMarie Method

February 14, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

For spring cleaning this year, I have started reading the book “the life-changing magic of tidying up” by Marie Kondo. It’s a book about, well, tidying. For me this time of year is for cleaning, which normally means lots of scrubbing and washing everything I can get my hands on, pulling out the stove and scrubbing under it, climbing on top of things and cleaning the places no one ever sees. There are a few problems with that method this year. Since my injury, I have some pretty big physical limitations that I didn’t have last time I did spring cleaning, with no husband or roommates there is no one to help and due to of having a more than full-time job I have less time than I normally do. The other reason I’m doing the KonMarie method instead of my normal method is that she is promising lifelong tidiness. While my normal method sure does make everything clean for a while, it doesn’t make things more “tidy” long term. It doesn’t make cleaning for the rest of the year easier. It doesn’t actually make my house all that much more pleasing. Also, I love the word “Tidy”, it has always been one of my favorite words. TIDY, TIDY, TIDY!!!

life-changing-magic-of-tidying-up-2 The idea behind this method is that you go through everything you own and get rid of the things that don’t bring you joy. Then you organize and arrange the remaining things in a reasonable and pleasing way.

This is also the perfect time for me to start on this method because it takes about 6 months and I moved in about 6 months. The KonMarie method will be a great pre-moving event. I can pair down my possession and pack up the things I am keeping at the same time. My friends Issa and Lee got a ton of boxes to me on Imbolc to start packing things. I started reading the book the evening after the Imbolc ritual.

The first step of the KonMarie process is figuring out why you want to tidy. “I want a clean house” or “I want to be able to entertain without feeling too stressed to clean” isn’t enough. You must ask yourself lots of questions to get to the root of what it is you really want from your space and why. I have come up with two answers after several days of thinking about it.

I want to live in a home that is classy and fun. I want my guests to walk into my home and feel ease and joy, but I also want them to think “wow, this place is clean, smells nice and is pleasing, Everything I see is of high quality, and reflects Kitty’s personality. Kitty must be doing very well for herself financially and emotionally”

Why do I want this?

Well, when I was a kid I was very poor. When I was little we lived in a shitty single wide trailer without running water in coal country of Pennsylvania. It was cold and dirty there, broken down cars and a moldy shack littered what might have been a very lovely woodland clearing. Everything was always covered in black coal dust and smoke. When I was 7 my mother left my father and we moved someplace that I thought was like a palace. We lived in a brand new double wide! With a garden tub! But looking back I know we were still poor.

As a child, I got teased for wearing used and ugly clothes. I was often brought to tears because the other kids said I smelled bad, which now actually seems petty unlikely, I showered every day and my mother was a bit of a clean freak, but also a smoker so I don’t know, maybe I did smell bad. I guess I’ll never know. Once I realized how poor we were I wanted to never be poor again, I felt angry and ashamed that we were poor while so many other people were rich. This started me having a lot of self-hatred and anger about poverty, but that is another post. Anyway, I didn’t want to be poor and wanted to change that. I now know this isn’t something you have a ton of control over, but I have done what I could.

I think I had just about reached “middle class” financially before my husband left me last year. But I never felt like it while with him. When we were doing things with his job I felt like I was super rich. We stayed in nice hotels, we went to cool places, I met important people and ate fancy foods. All of that was awesome, during those times I felt happy and important like my life was going the right direction, like I could do great things. During those times I got a little overconfident about being someone important myself someday, like a writer. All that opulence made me work hard and being someone great. But at home we lived in a house that was a mess inside and out, that was full of cheap shit and clutter no matter how hard I tried to fight that. Living here I have felt like sometimes all I do is clean, working 10 hours a day at cleaning to still wake up to filth. Yes, I get that there are some emotional issue and compulsive disorder things going to be dealt with there.

My ex-husband had many good qualities, but wanting a clean and classy home was not among them. He grew up nearly as poor as I, but with a family that was less concerned with cleanliness, quality and what other people thought about them, which my mother was obsessed with. He is the type of person who doesn’t mind living in a house that needs painting, who doesn’t rush to clean up trash in the yard or tidy the house. And that is ok, not everyone takes joy from the same things. I, however, take joy in a clean home and yard and in being able to entertain guests.

He is gone now which makes me sometimes feel totally broken with sadness even after so many months, sometimes super angry, but increasingly zen I guess. He left me, he had his reasons, that sucks. But it is in the past and I had no control over it happening. It wasn’t my fault he left, but picking up the pieces is my responsibility. I have to deal with that shit and move on.

I am still living in “our” house, but soon for the first time in my life, I will be living in “my” house. A place that is 100% mine. A place that will reflect only my personality and values. I value quality. I value joy, art, and beauty. I value cute things, colorful things, and stupidly adorable things!

I’m not wealthy now, I’m not even middle class with just my income (about $25,000 a year if I keep doing well). But, I would rather have a few nice things than many shitty things. I will be getting rid of all the low-quality and joyless things before or when I leave. This part of my life, this home is dead and needs to left alone to decay.

My new home will merge the aesthetic of a fancy spa and a candy store. There will be many candles and fresh flowers, cute candy jars for art reasons, pastel furniture, lots of bright white filigree, antique china, stuffed animals and doilies. It will be glorious, like Honeyduke’s from Harry Potter if managed by a Jess from “New Girl” and owned by Jackie O.

I want my home to be a place where I can feel free to relax, engage in any activity or work on any project of my choosing when I am alone.

What does this mean?

20180212_141516_Film4 To my left as I type this I have my piano keyboard. It is covered in mail, clothing and dust. I want to play the piano at least a few times a week, but I can’t because of effort and guilt. It would take time to clean all the stuff off and put it all away and once I started cleaning I would probably just keep cleaning. If I did stop and try to play the piano I would feel guilty, because for me playing the piano is something you do in a clean house. Knitting is something you do in a clean house. Coloring is something you do when you have done all your chores. Even reading or being able to relax while watching T.V or taking a bubble bath is for people who are done with tasks for the day. I can only let go and truly enjoy my inside hobbies when my space is clean, but because I don’t have a great system my space is seldom clean enough for me to relax. I have tried to take all the things I want to do off the “for a good Kitty only list” but after years of trying I have decided to give up on that, and instead find a way to feel like a good Kitty.

I theorize that If I can get things in order, only having to tidy for 15 minutes a day then I will have more deserved free time to do the things that matter to me. I guess we will see if that’s true.

With these two very introspective, complex and personal reasons to tidy my home I feel confident that I can get this done. I’ve already made a list of 80 categories that I need to evaluate, pare down and organize.

I have done the method for two categories so far:

from 24 to 18 blankets, throws and duvets
from 44 to 31 types of tea.

I will try to post here as I work on this so you can see my progress.

Imbolc

February 9, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

I did a ritual at my house this past weekend. I had reservations about doing Imbolc, or doing it at “home” anyway. This isn’t my home anymore, or at least it’s becoming not my home. I’m trying to emotionally distance myself from it, to make having to leave my home of over a decade hurt less, but in the end, I decided that since I am still here, it is still my home. The place I live is the only place to do Imbolc. So, that decided, I invited my friend’s over and did ritual.

The main thing I do every year on Imbolc is get ready to clean. I buy any cleaning supplies I am low on, I get a new broom and bless it, I start my spring cleaning. I did all those things, going to target the day before and getting new dishcloths, a spray bottle, so many great smelling candles and other supplies. I spent the morning of the ritual making the ritual space clean, renovating the fire pit and trying to dry out the wood a little after all rain. I went to Lowe’s and got a few supplies for the working as well. IMG_20180204_162102

Once my friends had arrived we did a short, fun and casual ritual. Wine was drunk, cookies were eaten. The new broom was blessed (which I must admit a new broom feels pretty wasteful since I can’t really take it with me when I move in 5 months). We planted flowers in little clay pots and talked about the things we want to “grow” in our lives this year. It was a nice afternoon, full of friendship, laughter, and love.

We went to my favorite sushi place, Kura Revolving Sushi Bar, for dinner after. https://www.yelp.com/biz/kura-revolving-sushi-bar-doraville-2

It was a nice day. A good way to start the transition from winter to spring.

The next day I started cleaning, but in a totally not actually having done any cleaning yet sort of way. I will explain that in my next post!

First Rays

January 3, 2018 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

This year’s solstice was amazing! I watched the first sunrise of the new solar year over the ocean!

burn 2017 This was something I had been wanting to do for years but it never happened for lots of reasons, like money, other people’s interest level, and my own motivation to make it happen. This year, however, I wanted it bad enough to declare that I was doing it even if I had to drive up by myself and sleep in my car. Someone who cares about me paid for everything as a Yule gift, because even though I’m working I’m not in a good financial place yet.

I had to work Thursday, December 21st until 7 pm, which was several hours after sunset. That presented a little bit of a problem, but I was able to take a short break around 5:30 pm (thank the Kitty Goddess for work at home jobs!) to light last year on fire in my ritual area. I lit a yellow candle with the last of the sparks of 2017.

As soon as work was done I gathered my things, made the candle as safe as possible in the car and started the 5-hour drive to the coast.

It was a long drive. We talked as much as we could, we listened to some of Terry Pratchett’s “Hogfather”. The first few hours were ok, but on the dark, empty country roads around 1 a.m, the night started to feel pretty creepy. We were definitely in the slasher movie zone. That neon red smiling “Piggly Wiggly” sign is not a friendly sight on Darkest Night in “I don’t remember where” South Carolina.

Once back on the highway everything took on a real dreamlike feel, good thing I wasn’t the one driving. Thankfully we made it to the hotel around 2 am. As soon as I opened the car door I could hear the ocean, but not see it. The air felt more humid and smelled of the sea. The plan had been to set up most things in the hotel room and only go down to the beach for the sunrise. Oddly enough, no one was in the lobby, so we couldn’t check into our room. Plans change.

We took ourselves and the magical sun holding candle to waffle house for about an hour. I ate hash browns covered in cheese and sang pop songs, maybe this should be a new dark night tradition. After that we drove around the old fancy parts of Charlson, the only car around, looking at the gaslights, French accents and the tastefully extravagant Christmas decorations on the ridiculously expensive mansions.

Around 4 am we went back to the beach, parked in the garage under the hotel we were booked at, the only one on Island of Palms. I changed into my ritual dress in the parking garage, got all the ritual supplies, mixed rum with a nice wassel from Trader Joe’s and made it to the beach a little before 5 am. Which was barely on time surprisingly, given that sunrise was at 7:18 am. The sky was totally dark to the east as I started to set up, but within minutes of getting there, I could see it lightning to grays and pinks.

I did most of the same general ritual steps I would use at home, but this was very different from previous years. My normal Yule crew of the last 7 years or so wasn’t with me for one. Erik, who normally does a runic divination for us and runs the bloat, which is the “boast, oath and toast” part had moved to Massachusetts last spring,

So this year I read the tarot cards instead, just for me. It was a quick reading and I didn’t get much out of it, but maybe I need to take some time to explore the reading further. Lori wasn’t there because she was celebrating her anniversary of her secret wedding. The other person who had been there for every Yule for the last 10 years isn’t part of my world anymore. It didn’t make sense to invite anyone else this year.

It was just me and someone who is new to my life as of about 10 months ago, and who had never done Yule or maybe any pagan ritual. Mostly he watched and took amazing pictures, but he joined in some.

We did boasts. I’m proud of myself for how I managed to deal with the extremely bad injury that I suffered in March, damaging 3 tendons in my left leg and breaking two bones. My friends were there for me and helped where they could, but mostly I did it on my own. I learned to live alone, sleep alone, do my grocery shopping alone and function as an independent adult while in a wheelchair and on crutches. It was maybe the hardest, most badass thing I have ever done. I’m down to just a brace now when I go out and I can deal with the pain.

We did oaths. Going from running three times a week to being unable to even walk without assistance, plus the depression that I have been dealing with has meant I’ve gained almost 20 lbs in 9 months. That is not good for my recovery, the extra weight is hard on my tendons. And it’s not good for me emotionally. I started losing the weight for a bad reason, to deal with an emotional trauma, but by the time I was running it was about me. About being strong, about owning my body, about pushing myself. I’m probably never going to run again unless I’m being chased by something that wants to eat me, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up being strong, fit and happy in my body. My oath was to get back down to the weight I was the day I broke my leg, 154 lbs.

We did toasts. I toasted my companion. 10 months ago we were strangers. Two weeks after our first date I broke my leg. He has gotten to know me at probably the lowest point in my life, and yet he had been the most amazing friend I could ask for. He has seen me at my very worst and chooses to stay. It’s been an emotionally awakening to be around someone that good.

We drank, at each phase. And maybe I drank between phases.

As the sky turned pink, I wrote down things I wanted to give up on tissue paper and watched them burn before hitting the sand. Drank a little for the passing of each of those.

I was silly excited as the sky lightened to almost daylight brightness but the clock said we were still 10 minutes from sunrise.

I was holding my breath, staring at the lighted area when in the time it takes to blink, the sun was reborn. Seeing that tiny, beautiful dark orange, burning sliver of life peeking over the water brought tears to my eyes, and not just because I dumb enough to stare at the sun. That moment felt exactly the way I had imagine it would for all of these years. The stress of planning it, the mad dash after work, the drive, the cold, the pain of my leg walking up to the beach, it was all worth it. Maybe everything else was too, everything that finally brought me to this place, on this morning, for this miraculous moment.

I always joke about protecting the spark on the darkest night and bringing it back like to my friends on Facebook, and they said thank you. This year’s was the same in that regard. What was different was a stranger who was staying in the hotel saw what I was doing and came down at the end and told me it made her happy. I have always felt like I’m doing something, connecting to something on Yule night. I know, of course, I don’t bring back the sun, but pretending I do gives me a nice easy goal to accomplish every year because I know that the sun will rise with or without me, that the earth turns whether I’m alive on it or not. This last year, there were so many times when I almost wasn’t anymore. There were so many moments when I didn’t want to feel any more pain when things were just too fucking hard. There were so many days when I was just too damaged, hurting too much and so very alone. There were so many days when I thought the darkness was going to last forever, but even the longest night has a dawn. I’m so glad I got to see this one.

I lit three candles repenting virtues I want to focus on this year. We did “maybe you never hunger” eating the cookies I made and sacrificing others. We did “may you never thirst” drinking some more spicy, applish rum drink and pour some out for lots of reasons. I sat in the new light, unfiltered by houses, trees, other people and started my new planner for 2018. I swam in the ocean in late December and worked on my tan.

I felt happy, productive and a little tipsy. I get a lot done before lunchtime some days. Which was a fabulous place btw, but restaurant reviews are a different post.

I made sure that the sun was reborn this year. A bright, beautiful one. Hopefully a good one. You’re welcome. Most of these photos were taken by and belong to P. Travis.

Solstice Eve

December 21, 2017 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

Figuring out the right day for solstice this year was hard, it could have gone either way. It could have been December 20 going into December 21, or December 21 going into December 22. I decided since both nights are almost exactly the same length that I could pick the one the worked best for me.

I have a day job now, started a few months ago. Taking two days off would have been difficult, but just one day I can manage. I could have probably done it without taking a day off if I was doing the ritual the way I normally do, staying up all night, tending a fire in my backyard ritual area. However this year I’ve decided to do something I have been wanting to do for a decade. I’m going to watch the first sunrise of the year from a beach on the east coast.

I’m not going to have to find the perfect spot in my yard, where I can see around my neighbors houses to maybe possibly see the sun. Even then, it is at least an hour after official sunrise before I get my first glimpse at the fresh new sun. I’m not going to have to worry about what my neighbors think as I stand out in the front yard, holding a candle and singing the Beatles “Here Comes the Sun” at 7 a.m.

This year, I’m going to see the sun the moment it comes up, I’ll see the first perfect rays hitting the water, I will be the first person touched by the sun. I’m so excited to be doing this!

20171221_121421_Film4 Today before work and during breaks I have been getting everything ready. I made some neat sun swirl sugar cookies flavored with orange juice for the ritual tomorrow morning. I have winter wassel and rum for libation. I have a basket full of candles, tarot cards, tissue paper and pens. I’m almost packed, I even brought a bathing suit, because it’s supposed to be 65 degrees tomorrow!

Last year my solstice night was horrible and lonely, and this year has been hard. Maybe those two things have nothing to do with each other, maybe they do. Either way, I want to start this year right. If I cry tonight, this time they will be tears of joy!

Goodbye 2017

December 20, 2017 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

The only way my celebrations make sense this time of the year is if I think of everything from solstice night to new year eve as one big festival.

From Thanksgiving to now is a time for reflection, thinking of the things I’m thankful for, or the things that sucked. It’s the time for going over mistakes and successes.

Tomorrow starts my New Year. I’m going to spend the whole night awake Thursday night, on the beach, waiting for the sun to rise. That will be a quiet night, for thinking about the darkness, for wishing for the light. With the dawn it is the New Year officially, but it’s a festival season. From Solstice morning to calendar New Year’s day is the Yule festival, with gift giving, putting together the new planner, overeating, visiting friends and family, making plans and resolutions and going to parties.

With the end of the festival on New Year’s day is time to get busy and make things happen.

I wrote a poem for 2017

I’m angry.
I get a few seconds of fuzzy innocence in the morning.
Safe, pain free, warm, purring
My first thought of the day is “mmmm…”
My second is “Fuck!”, as I remember who I am and when I am.

It’s 2017, I’m angry.

Most days I don’t cry.
Most days I don’t scream out in pain and fury.
Most days I calmly get up and pee, seething with rage.

I hate my ex as I brush my teeth.
I hate my house as I splash water on my face
I hate my age as I put on moisturizer.
I hate my fat as I get dressed
I hate my leg as I painfully clump down the stairs.

I eat too much for breakfast, sweet and decadent,I feel like this should make me happy
It doesn’t.

I drink 16 oz of water and take vitamins, fucking life affirmation or some shit.
Life sucks, being well be hydrated and full of expensive chemicals can’t make it worse.
At least I’m worth as much as my component parts.
You could have sold me for scrap instead of tossing me in a fucking landfill, your loss assholes.

I am so angry deep inside. Road rage level angry.
Fuck you up, find you and beat the shit out of you angry.

Instead I do PT, and imagine how someday I can be strong again. I can run again.

I ran a lot last year.

2016, I was ashamed.

I was ashamed because I was afraid to say no, so I ran to escape that failure.
I was ashamed because I was violated, my body didn’t belong to me. I tried to shrink until all the nasty parts were gone.
I imagined sexual assault lived in my fat, that it could be burned away.
Shrinking didn’t work.

I never got fast enough, small enough or far enough away to feel unashamed.
I drank a lot of tequila, that helped.

Oh well. I don’t feel ashamed now, I guess the fire of my hate is hot enough to burn away shame. Neat.

Enough about the past,
It’s 2017
I’m angry.

I knit angry, making beautiful beaded lace with breakup gift yarn.
I look calm, as I check my planner, mark off my tasks. If you were watching me you wouldn’t know my secret, like the Hulk, I’m always angry.

I’m angry as I read, angry watching tv, angry as I cook, angry scooping cat litter.
I’m angry while at work, angry while I drive, angry when I’m smiling, laughing, spending time with my friends.

I’m not angry in bangs and screams.
I’m not angry in explosions.
I’m not angry like a bomb.
Not angry like a man.

I’m angry like a woman. Who did her best and was never enough.

It’s the proper ladylike anger of an educated, responsible divorcee rebuilding her life.

I’m appropriately angry in the kitchen,
Slow , silent, scalding steam until the pot boils dry

In 2018 maybe everything will have burned away
I’ll be empty.
The heat will die and I’ll cool.
In 2018 I’ll be empty and clean.

Count Down to Dragon Con – 4 Days

August 30, 2016 ~ Kitty ~ Leave a comment

I know I over extended myself on the cosplay this year. I think I could have managed one really good costume, but not three. I’m afraid that all my cosplay will look unfinished and rushed. Oh well, might as well just keep working at it and everything else, because if you have to be alive one might as well be doing things.

Today I worked on Imperator Furiosa’s crest belt.

20160829_124941 I haven’t done much leather work, it’s been a hobby I’ve tried to stay away from because it’s costly and I already have enough hobbies. However a little bit of leather working was necessary. Since this piece is supposed to look a bit rough I decided that I might as well give it a try myself instead of asking my leather-working buddies for help. My first step was cutting out a rough circle of black leather and using a rotary punch to make lots of holes along the bottom.

20160829_131133 After enough holes had been created I started cutting chain to attach. I thought that her belt crest only had one type of chain, but I was wrong. It is mostly silver/chrome colored and off a similar design to what I got a few days ago at the craft store, but there are a few different types thrown in. I had a gold look chain in my supplies, but I would like a few other types. I’ll see what I can find tomorrow.

20160829_141015 Polymer clay is always not one of my hobbies. Sculpting is something I’ve never had a knack for and to be honest I really sort of hate doing it. I don’t like the feel of the clay against my fingers, I don’t like trying to shape it into the shapes I need. I get easily frustrated working with clay. I did the best I could and I came up with something similar to what Furiosa was wearing, but not very similar. I’m hoping no one looks to close, and also that the flame points don’t break off. But this is a pointless dream, I have never made anything of polymer clay that didn’t break. One must accept impermanence, to do otherwise causes suffering.

Some black and oil slick colored nail polish and a silver paint pin made it look a little better. After cutting up a few belts I temperately attached everything with super glue and then started trying to sew it, using a big needle and waxed thread. I had to stop before it was finished because my household is asleep and I feel an awl and mallet are needed to finish.

Hopefully I can finish this tomorrow before switching back over to the gin fairy. Will I ever get back to working on Negasonic? Or is that one just not going to happen?