Hi

Hi world. I just checked my email for the first time in awhile. And I saw that I had a happy comment on this bloggy here. And I felt quite cheered.

And I now have fresh resolve to go work on my little teen fiction project-- Alethea as Pie. It is 6 chapters and 10,000 words old so far.

I made the mistake of emailing it to my sister a few weeks ago. She only read the first chapter. Oh. Mmm hmm. It's ok. Why don't you write a fantasy book instead? Fantasy is more interesting. Vampires are so hot right now. You should do that instead. Oh, well, I'm so busy, I'll try to read the rest sometime soon... It's ok. But you should write something with magic or vampires.

Sigh. I am easily discouraged and derailed.

(Plus, I also bought book 12 of the wheel of time series, which neccesitated me re-reading books 1-11, which was another bad time-sucking move on my part. In fact, i am still not done.)

So. Amanda. Pay attention! Please do not forget about poor little Alethea. Find focus! Figure out chapter 7! Help Alethea as Pie to be born. Write the story. Go-go gadget go now.

What you... want with... a woman, who, won't do, what you, say.

my song is the Rage of JackOffJill and the Sadness of SageFrancis. in highschool, the Sadness used to be Nirvana. that was the song on repeat. if i listen to Nirvana or AAA or Bad Religion now, it's different. not dishonest to still call them favorites, but i only feel the memory and not the Truth that they used to feel like. my Anger has not changed much. but pretty much everything that rang in as Sadness, Defiance, or Irony is just second fiddle nostalgia to SageFrancis now.

in the shower just now, i was thinking about heaven. What you... want with... a woman, who, won't do, what you, say... been singing that line all day. (FT: singling)

heaven and happiness and songs.

i have the very strong songs for sadness and anger. have found that voice in my soul embodied. but, not Happy. there are songs i like that are about being happy, but i don't feel the happiness. i can see it, but singing along to Happy when it doesn't resonate just feels even more empty and sad. I can enjoy a fun happy song but it doesn't CONNECT like the other. there is no truth in the Happiness. i feel more happy inside a sad song because i feel the recognition of something true-correct.

so i imagine heaven as this place of Happy people. and i don't fit there because that is not my song. people exist where they are comfortable.

i just reread what i've written so far and it sounds stupid and not like what i mean to explain at all. sigh. a real song is something tangible...

i feel like this music is felt between people. where you fit. why there are some people that you click with. you have the same songs in your soul. you fit among people that are on your wavelength... sound wave.

you can't have songs that don't match. that is discord. dischord discord.

i want to grow and evolve. my sad used to be nirvana, now it has more layers to it. more wry smiles amidst the pain. i can change the tune but not the song.

churchy people, seem to be fond of blaming music for being a "bad influence" on kids/people. i feel what i feel. and yeah, what i feel a lot of is hate, so i do kinda see their point of view on that. but listening to something happy or "good" that doesn't connect just makes me feel more sad and empty. so i imagine that must be how it works for other people too.

Just So.

so much so much so much that hurts that aches that grates and so much so much so much noise to filter to block, that is always drowning, drowning, drowning you...

this is why, it means so much, to have things, Just So.

teeny tiny bitty scrap speck of something you can nestle, control, hum, curl, purr inside of. a plan. a plot. a nooked secret. happiness.

yesterday we got take out from this thai place i like. and we got an extra order to have for lunch today. this was happy. something settled. something yummy. something to not have to think about anymore. mmmm curry. zip. done. delicious.

but today, it did not happen Just So. and i got very upset. i am very particular about styrofoam in the microwave. i won't eat stuff microwaved in styrofoam. no! put on plate. warm up. because, styrofoam melts. i can not stop thinking about the little styrofoam molecules that are in the food when food in a styrofoam container gets nuked. i can't eat it. i won't eat it. bad bad ruined yuck.

so that happened. because garret warmed up the food. and then we got in a fight because i wouldn't eat it. and also because i cried. and he was mad i was crying over something so small and stupid like food.

I KNOW IT'S STUPID, OK? doesn't help at all to know that. still feels... crashing, awful, ruined, death. a perfect sandcastle, almost, almost, but CRASH SMASH the wave kills it right before you get there. tiny bits of joy you try try try to carve out of sand, try to hold, try to build, small bits of something to hold onto, but. the universe is bigger. and stronger. and conspiring against you.

that feeling, when you win, when you are ahead of the mean old universe for just a second, and you get to have things how you want them, JUST SO, it's the best feeling ever. content, happy, safe.

always searching for that-- control. happiness. trying to escape the angry helplessness of no control.

Metronome therapy

You have probably noticed that I'm not so great at fixing my own issues. But, I AM really good at displacing all that energy onto poor Garret.

Anyway, Garret can barely read, blah blah blah. Ok, so, while taking that last class to finish my degree, I came across an interesting study. It was about kids with ADHD. They had made them keep time to a metronome, and there was some fancy thingy that electronically measured their accuracy, and they did that every day for awhile, and tried to improve their accuracy, and then, volia, they had improved focus and they were better at reading.

I excitedly told Garret about this. He's like- um... but I don't have ADD. Sigh. NOT RELEVANT. Tap hand. Keep time. Improve focus. Read better. Gosh, try to keep up here.

I found links to free metronome sounds online. I tried to get him to tap along.

Oh. My. Goodness.

It was one of the most disturbing things I have ever seen. If it were not for the tragic aspect of him being my husband, I would have peed myself laughing.

I mean, I knew he was not, like, a good dancer. But, how hard is it to tap your hand/foot/finger to a beat??? For Garret, it is apparently rocket science. He was not even CLOSE. Not only was he off of the beat, he was tapping way more or way less times than it.

Metronome: Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...

Garret: TapTap.Tap....TaTaTAP..Tap.TapTap...Tap.....Tap..Tap.....Tap

I am not exagerating. He was...spastic. AND, oblivious to the fact that he was not even close. It was very disturbing. I was disturbed.

I don't know what it means exactly. But I think his mental difficulties are definately reflected by his inablity to keep time to a simple beat. I am hoping he will continue to try and improve this. He thinks it is stupid and has nothing to do with reading. I have tried to explain to him before how so much of reading is rhthym.

The cat sat on the bat and wore a hat and he was fat and caught a...

You just KNOW the next word is not going to be "paprika." It will probably be "rat." He doesn't get that. He's all-- it might be paprika. NO! NO IT WILL NOT EVER BE PAPRIKA!!!

Reading is part music and rhythm. Just like you can sometimes guess the next note in a song, you can guess the next word in a sentence. I don't really care if he doesn't get that right now, I just want him to work on tapping to a beat. It certainly can't HURT.

11/04/09.

Still not in a writing mood.
But, hi, and I'm still alive.

I see my last post was about making a goal and accomplishing it-- writing an article. Well, I failed miserably at that. Outlined an article but never finished it. However, I did finally finish my Bachelor's Degree... so, that's pretty good.

I'm very interested in acupressure at the moment. So, been thinking about that a lot, experimenting on myself and Garret.