No Point Crying Over Spilled Tea....

I'm hoping today isn't going to be one of those days. I've already spilled my tea while I was driving down my nice newish white sweater I put on this morning. I've used soap and water to get rid of the worst of it but there are still yellowish patches that I'm hoping won't be too visible unless people know they're there.

Also, I had a bad moment while driving and I don't think it was my fault. It was a four-way stop and it was one of those slightly awkward moments when you get there almost the same time as another car. There's a moment of waiting while you both figure out who's going to go. Since it wasn't terribly light out there, it wasn't possible to do the universal wave of 'you go ahead' and have the other driver see it. So, deciding to take the lead, I started to go. Then, the other driver started to go. As we both moved, I thought, "oh, he's going straight, anyway" because there was no turn signal. Since I was also going straight, it didn't seem to really matter who went first. Except it seems that the other driver wasn't going straight, he was going to turn. Only as he pulled forward to the middle of the intersection did he put on his turn signal and then proceed to honk and give me the finger. I'm very sorry but where I learned to drive, the turn signal is intended to indicate that you're turning. If it's not on, how am I supposed to know where another driver is going? Since I'm sadly not psychic, I can't predict these things.

Then, when I get in, I see there are doughnuts in the conference room. I have a feeling this is to accompany our benefits enrollment session that's scheduled bright and early at 9 a.m. today. I wish I was a doughnut person but I'm not. I just don't get excited about doughnuts. My taste buds tend to veer towards savory and salty, not so much the sweet. Also, I find, if I do partake in the morning doughnut ritual, I end up wishing I hadn't because even though I was hungry, that's an awful lot of fat and calories that I just wasted on something I don't like that much anyway.

Still, I do appreciate the effort of our president to sweeten up the enrollments session. I'm not big on these. Working for a small company is very different from working in a the large university environment because it's harder to find affordable benefit packages. So far, this year, I've paid a lot of out-of-pocket costs because our insurance had a fairly high deductible. We were told yesterday that the deductible for the new plan would be a little higher. I'm trying to be excited and hope that it has better coverage but the idea of a higher deductible is a little worrisome.

Yesterday, during our benefits meeting, we also got a very nice pep talk from our CEO about our fantastic new office space to which we'll be moving next week. Maybe. No one quite knows when we'll actually be able to move in; at the very latest, it'll be the Monday following Thanksgiving. I didn't mind this until I found out yesterday that my plans for what I do when I had to work at home were foiled because they're going to be taking down the servers on which I access almost 98% of my workload. So, now I have to find out what, actually, I should be doing when I work from home since I adamently refuse to waste any of my precious remaining PTO days because my company forgot to tell me that they hadn't planned very well.

Still, according to our CEO, our new building is going to be spectacular. She's spared no expense. We will have a colour scheme matching our product suite which, for your information, is purple, a turquoise blue, a butterscotch yellow and red. The mental picture of that colour combination is probably much harsher in my mind than it'll be in reality....right? Even our countertops in our kitchen are speckled with those colours.

Also, we're going to have a workout room with a Wii, a Foosball table and bathrooms with nice showers. Also, the bathroom stalls are floor-to-ceiling for privacy. We may even get a yoga instructor to come and teach classes!

Now, I want to be a bright glow of sunshiny excitement about this. However, one thing I've learned from my company is if you're in the office, you need to be working. If you take time out to do something like, oh, go to lunch, you make up the time by working later. So, I'm having a hard time believing that our President is going to completely change and let us go play a rousing game of Foosball during work hours on a regular basis or that he's going to let us go take a break to run on the treadmill and shower. No, I think it's more likely that we're going to have to stay late to make up any fun time we spend at work.

Now, call me crazy and I know this is because I'm not experiencing 100% job satisfaction but, at the end of the day, I want to go home. I do not want to go play Wii with my coworkers. I do not want to do yoga with them. I want to go home. It's not that I don't like my coworkers. I do. It's just that I'd rather be home, doing something I actually want to do like writing, watching TV, making dinner. We're a company with about 22 employees who actually work in the office and not working remotely. By any standards, that's small. Our new building is the type of place you'd expect from Google, Microsoft....big companies that can afford to rotate work breaks and let people decompress at work. We're too small to really be able to do that.

I'm being negative and I know this. I, for one, like the idea of having a meeting while playing Foosball or running on the treadmill. Yet that means you have to find someone else who is capable of talking work while doing something else: Multitasking. Not everyone likes to do that. Still, on bad days, a game of Foosball is quite therapeutic. I like to play dirty.

Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it's not such a good idea to have meetings while playing Foosball.

Still, I can't wait to see the new building. It's something to see, according to our CEO. She likes it so much, she's literally getting them to build her an apartment on the first floor so that when she comes in to visit (she's based in California), she has somewhere to stay. You might remember that my CEO likes some, uh, noisy extracurricular activities, things that involve a little spanking and squealing. I can't help but wonder if she's going to invite her boyfriend to her new place during work hours. That might be...entertaining.

I work in an odd place. I am incredibly lucky to work for a company that is trying so hard to make us happy and I really, really wish I could stop seeing the glass as half-empty. I try to be a half-full person mostly but there are times when that pesky sense of rational reality kicks in and says, do we really need custom-made bathroom dividers? Can't we, you know, use that money to increase the wages of the people who are going to paying a lot more to get to work because they now have to commute?

But, for now, I have our benefits enrollment to look forward to and the doughnuts that lie ahead. As long as I don't spill the doughnut on my shirt, if I decide to eat one, my day will already be better. Again, it's the small things in life., right?

Happy Tuesday!

A Rainy Friday....

It's a really rainy day out there. Ever since last night when I drove home from work, it's been raining, at times the pounding type of drops you can hear beating against the window.
I love the rain. It's one of the many reasons I moved back to the Midwest. It just never rained enough in L.A. for me although, on occasion, in the winter, we did have these type of days where it just rained heavily, flooding the streets and making it a wet commute.

My commute was wet last night. I don't mind driving in rain but there are patches along my drive in which the lanes of the highway flood and I find myself starting to hydroplaning. I'm not a big fan of the hydroplane; it means my car is slipping from my control and I don't like that feeling at all. Fortunately, it's rained enough on my drives home that I've learned where the wettest spots are and I know when to slow down.

This morning, the rain has tapered off a little. It's supposed to begin again in a while, the heavy showers giving us inches of rain. It was nice that my drive wasn't too soggy, however.

There's something nice about a rainy day. I'm a big fan of them, on occasion. They're the type of day that gives you an excuse to stay inside, eat something hearty and comforting for dinner, curl up on the sofa and listen to the beat of the rain as you do nothing productive. Sadly, the rainy day is only supposed to last until this evening and the weekend is suppose to be dry and breezy.

The other thing about an Autumn rainy day is it that you can really see the change of the seasons. The street where I live became littered with soggy leaves overnight, the weight of the water pulling them down a little prematurely from the trees. It makes for a changed landscape overnight.

In the office, it's quieter than usual. Even though there are quite a few people in, there's a lull over the office. I came in to find that no one had made coffee. It always amazes me, that fact. There are a ton of people here who drink coffee and I guarantee now that I've made a pot, it'll disappear within minutes. Yet no one wants to actually make it. I think it's because our perky French-Vanilla-Air-Scenting Human Resources Manager is out of the office and she's usually very good about cleaning the pots. She's been gone for two days and when I get in, the coffee station is sticky, dirty and yesterday's coffee sits syrupy in the pots, stone cold. People tend to shy away from that mess even though they helped make it.

So, in addition to making the coffee, I clean the station up. I actually don't mind doing this; sadly, I sometimes miss my days of being an administrative assistant/minion. Back then, it was menial tasks that were easy to do but people actually noticed. Today was a day when the coffee station was very messy. I have a confession. I think the coffee sitting warmly in the decaf pot might have been leftover from yesterday. The pot never got turned off. I, uh, cleaned the area around the pot but didn't make more. I figured the decaf people could figure out if the coffee was too strong and, if not, well, then, they should be a little more attentive. We regular coffee drinkers at least turn the pot off when we're done, even if there is an amount of sludge still in the decanter.

Today, in our office, it's another "Office Clean Up Day". We've already had one in which we cleared out all the common areas in preparation for our move to our new offices. That was two months ago. Today is supposed to be more of a "Clean your personal area" day. That's a rather nice concept but we still don't actually know when we're moving. We're supposed to pack our crap up, ready to move. My somewhat obvious question is this: If we don't know when we're going, why bother packing?

I know, that's a nutty question. The managers have decided today is clean-up day and so their word is law. My teensy little problem with that is that I use most of the stuff on my desk. I'm talking about binders, pens, pencils....you know, the stuff that people use in offices every day. So, if I'm supposed to pack this crap up...how am I going to use it? It means I'm going to be working out of a box when I have a perfectly nice desk sitting here that's going to be holding the boxes out of which I'm going to be working.

This is probably why I'm not a manager. My decisions probably would make a wee bit too much sense. Our company isn't exactly they type of place that inspires us to bring tons of crap in to decorate our cubicles. Sure, I have my Geico Gekko statuette thingy and my Green Day Superhero Action Figures but that's about the only personal crap I have. everything else is work-related. And it's only on my desk beacause I....use it.

The biggest thing on all of our desks is our computers because we are, you know, a software company. Computers are sort of essential to that. We're not packing those up yet. At least...not that I'm aware, anyway. Which means our desks might be pristine at the end of the day except for the boxes that hold our stuff but they're still going to be cluttered with our computers.

Ah well, who am I to argue these decisions? I think we're all operating under the idea that when we move, it's going to be one of those "Get your boxes. Tomorrow we move!" situations. In which case, I can't help hearing yet another nagging little voice asking this question: Are we really only going to find out a day before we go? Our new building is under construction. I know, for a fact, construction doesn't get thrown together and then suddenly you can move in. There's inspections and stuff afterwards. These take time. How's about we find out when the inspections are and then we, the lowly staff, can have a little heads-up that we might be moving in a week or so? Or, even better, we, uh, plan on a date after everything is done and the building is ready. Do we really have to run like contestants on a reality show who've been told they have a time limit in which to cook a meal? Have you seen these contestants? They elbow each other, poke, grab and fight to the death to grab the mushrooms out of the pantry before anyone else can. I confess, that's what I'm going to picture now if I were to hear the words, "Tomorrow, we're moving!"

Here's the thing. We're leasing the building in which we currently work. The lease expires in just under three months. Can you see where I'm going here?

Yes. If we have three months to move...why do we have to be ready at the drop of the hat?

Silly, silly Captain Monkeypants. I'm doing that thing I shouldn't be doing: I'm thinking too much. Must. Shut. Brain. Down.

I think I might have to work on that. In the meantime, I have to figure out if I need one box or two. I'm also going to drink my coffee and enjoy the rain before the other staff comes dripping in and the office loses its peace.

Happy Friday and have a great weekend.

A Year of Change...

It is another gloomy day this morning with the added bonus of mass amounts of humidity. It feels nasty out there. It's the type of day where I begin to try to do something with my hair and I realize that the minute I walk out of the house, it'll fall flat so it's a ponytail day instead. The weatherman, having been wrong about the heavy and steady thunderstorms we were supposed to get yesterday looked slightly defeated this morning, almost like a puppy that has been scolded. He was far less bold with his predictions stating that while it was likely we'd get thunderstorms, we might not.

I have decided it might be quite nice to be a weatherwoman. Apparently, it's all about being vague. You can say things like, "There's a chance of rain," and "Parts of the area are seeing clouds." I mean, really, every day there's a 'chance' of rain: It might rain...it might not. It's a nice safe prediction to say that there are going to be clouds somewhere in the viewing area. It's a big viewing area.

But, as it stands, it's grey and nasty out there. It's definitely a stay-in-and-do-nothing-really-productive type of day. Unfortunately, since I'm at work, that might be a bit hard to do given that I am being paid to be productive.

Today actually marks the day when, a year ago, my friend and I packed up my little Toyota and left Los Angeles for the Great Midwest. Given everything that's happened in the past year, it seems much longer than that. In the time I've been gone from L.A., I've started this blog, learned to cook and bought a house. Depending on how you look at it, it may not seem like much but to me, they're components of my life that make up who I am.

It's amazing how much life changes in a short time. It seems like if you're born in L.A. you tend to stay there but if you move there later in life, you tend to enjoy it for a while and leave. When I first moved out, there was a steady wave of my college friends also slowly moving out. My only friend in the scary world of California was a former college roommate with whom I had been friendly but never known well. We had been joined as roommates by another friend. We had all been theatre majors. In the undergraduate school I attended, the theatre department was very small and very "exclusive.". I put the exclusive in quotes because, looking back, I realize it was exclusive in a fairly bad way. Overall, the atmosphere was arrogant and self-congratulatory. There have been some immensely talented people to come out of there but to survive and come out the way you went in...that was a feat. It was a place where if you tried to be slightly different, you would either be broken like a horse and tamed or you would be made miserable to the point in which you'd leave. I saw both happen in the three years I spent in the department. To this day, that phase of my life remains a muddled confusion. Doing theatre was what I loved but it was the only thing I was allowed to do. I felt as though I were sneaking away when I enrolled in other, non-theatre classes.

Needless to say, as a theatre major, you lived, breathed, slept and ate theatre. You also had little time for non-theatre activities. This meant that the only friends you really had time to socialize with were fellow theatre majors. It was a good thing and it was a bad thing. To this day, I regret some of the friendships that weakened because of this phase of my life. Ironically, while I keep in touch, mostly on Facebook, with some of my former theatre friends, without the bond of the stage, we really don't know each other any more. It's sad but we bonded over our 'craft', it was the tie that connected up. Most of my former close friends from my theatre days, like me, drifted away, having felt burned out from doing so much of it during college.

I digress. I do have a point, surprisingly. It is that when I did move to L.A., I was still fairly recently graduated from college and so reconnecting with former theatre friends, all in L.A. to try to break into movies or at least the theatre scene was easy. The problem that ended up happening was that we all 'came of age' at the same time. When I say that, it means we found the things in our lives that we truly loved. My former college roommate found love and a career and he ended up moving closer to his boyfriend. Another friend went back to the Midwest, still dabbling with theatre but still trying to figure out what she wanted. Then there was me; I'd found my writing. It was no longer screenwriting, it was novels. Over time, I realized there was no reason for me to be in L.A. I could write anywhere and then, slowly, the pull of home, of my family began to be stronger than the pull of L.A.

So, seven years after I'd moved out, I found myself coming back home. As I left, I was 'friended' on Facebook by two other former theatre friends who were just moving out to L.A. It's an interesting pattern; you leave and there's someone always waiting to fill in the gap. Los Angeles represents a city of dreams if you live far away. When I was in high school, I had a friend who was obsessed with moving to California. She was determined to go there and have a rock-and-roll-lifestyle. She had originally planned on marrying Bret Michael's from the band, Poison. Then she decided it was all Axl Rose from Guns n' Roses. Either way, the lure of L.A., the dream of California was all-encompassing.

As far as I know, she never did go out there. I think she actually lives in Cincinnati. Due to the fact that she went a little mental in high school and would talk about having me killed in notes to her friend, I'm really not that worried about where she is. I just hope she's happy and a little, um, less deranged.

I still find it ironic that I went there. For me, it was really just a question of me getting out of the Midwest, to see what else was there. It was between New York and L.A. I chose L.A. because it was cheaper. That's pretty much the only reason. I do wonder what path my life would have taken if I'd have gone the other direction. However, choice I made, to this day, feels like the right one. I'm just glad it led me back here. I had my years of seeing life from a different point of view, immersing myself in a city that's so diverse you can walk from one street to another and see a whole new culture spring up.

Yet...I'm glad I left. I love the peace of the Midwest, the fact that one day it can be stormy and humid and the next a crisp, Autumn day with the hint of frost on the wind. I love the fact that the trees are starting to change colour and that I can be one of those people to put a pumpkin out on my porch and welcome trick or treaters on Halloween night.

I'm not saying that there aren't days when I don't miss my former life. There are days when I miss it so much, it's hard to remember where I am in the world. That might be due to the fact that I stream KROQ, my beloved L.A. radio station, online. It's awfully disorientating to be working in Ohio but hear advertisements for restaurants, concerts and events in the L.A. area.

Whatever the reason, it's now officially been a year in which KROQ sent me off with Viva La Vida, one of the few Coldplay songs I can actually stand, as I drove out of the city and lost reception, moving away from L.A. on a new path. I'm still finding my way but I'm glad it brought me here.

Even if it did give me Nutley 2.0.

Happy Tuesday.

A Bright and Sunny Monday Morning...

I don't think there's any way around the fact that Monday mornings are...Monday mornings. No matter how much sleep you try to get the day before, no matter how good the weekend, a Monday is still a Monday, even if you pretend it's not.

Today is a beautiful Monday morning here; there's no humidity in sight, the morning air was a little chilly, the sun is shining and the grass is gleaming with dew. Even my grass at home is gleaming with dew, freshly mown, I'd like to add. I'm still not a fan of mowing, but I've discovered if I just do it, it's not so bad. Though I did get chased by a swarm of gnats the entire time I mowed. I felt like a horse. I hate gnats.

When I drive to work on mornings like this, the scenery is beautiful. The road I take cuts through some hills and its just the most glorious shades of green with all of the grass and trees and plants. Today, as with most of the cooler summer days, there's a spot that's foggy; it lasts for less than a mile and it seems to come out of nowhere. It's thick fog. I think it actually comes from the river that I pass over daily but it masks the countryside before and after. When I emerge from the fog, the world is clear and green again but for a few brief minutes, it's another world entirely; one that's chilly, slightly murky and a little eerie.

In the office, Mondays start slowly. People stumble down in search of coffee, stop to chat and then go about their business. I like that; I like the peace in the mornings. Lately, it hasn't been peaceful around here. There's been a lot of social activity, cleaning and other events that make our normally-quiet office a little hectic. Office politics are a little odd around here; it's not what I'm used to. It's not a bad thing but I've never worked for a company where the personal/professional line is quite so blurry at times where managers are friends with the employees outside of work as well as in the office. I think it's because I've worked for much more structured companies in the past. As I said, it's not necessarily bad but it adds a certain complicated layer to a company that's already a little lacking in communication.

Today, though, it's a nice day. I had a very nice weekend; I did quite a bit of unpacking. The house is starting to seem like my own. I set up my 'office' yesterday. This will be my writing room and it was important to make it feel right. I bought a couple of new bookcases and so while I write, I will be surrounded by books. That seems perfect to me.

As a result of my unpacking, I got to behold the powers of craigslist.org had a ton of empty boxes which I folded flat when I was finished. Having inherited them from someone at work who'd recently moved, I didn't want to recycle them because they still have some use in them. Thus, I placed an add on my local craigslist for "Free Boxes". Less than three hours later, the boxes were picked up by someone who needed them for their own move. Now I have a lot more empty space and they have their boxes; everyone's happy.

The one thing I've noticed about moving into my own home is that people tend to be pessimists. If I say, "I don't want to mow the grass," someone inevitably says, "wait until you have to shovel snow!" When I first became a homeowner, I had many people say variations of "Welcome to the headaches of homeownership!" As a first time homebuyer, I was hoping for a few more, "Hey, Captain Monkeypants! That's pretty cool. Congrats!" than the more practical "You need your own screwgun now" comments I got. I know people are trying to be helpful but sometimes a little encouragement goes a little further than inspiring a slight sense of dread.

That aside, I'm enjoying being a homeowner. I turned in my apartment keys on Friday and I'm still experiencing the joys of knowing that I'm now only responsible for my house, I'm not 'living' in dual places. Everytime I walk in my house, I feel this sense of rightness, of knowing that I made the right decision. When I do my laundry, I still get a small thrill that I can do it whenever I like, no quarters required. Even when I mow the grass, I know it's my grass and if I want to extend my patio out eventually to cut down on the grass, I can do that.

So, while it's a Monday morning, it seems like it's a pretty good one so far. It's a beautiful day, I can go home and relax without having to stop by my apartment to pick up more boxes. That's a lovely feeling.

Happy Monday.

The Calm After the Storm...

These have been some busy weeks for me. Now that I'm done with Comic-Con and the physical act of moving is over, the only things that remains to be done is to unpack.

I hate unpacking. I don't mind unpacking the vital stuff: The kitchen appliances, my DVD's, things I use every day. However, then there are the boxes that are left, just staring at you. When I moved to Ohio from California, I had several boxes that were never unpacked into my apartment. I have a feeling those will be the last ones I unpack too.

Those boxes contain the stuff that I like but don't really need. I know I kept the stuff for a reason and didn't donate it to Salvation Army but it's the type of stuff that when you unpack it, you wonder, exactly, why you kept it.

Nevertheless, if I can't find a place for it here, I'll rethink the fact that I might not actually need it.

Last night was the night I cleaned out the apartment for the last time. I locked the door for the last time and went down to my car for the last time. I was a little sad but I'm already loving my new house so much that it wasn't as sad as I thought it would be.

I'm beginning to get used to the house. The one thing I wish is that I had a button that controlled the length of the grass. Wouldn't that be nice? You could set it to different lengths and the lawn would grow and retract based on the setting. That would save me from mowing. I'm already hating mowing. I don't mind the front grass so much since it's small. It's the back garden that daunts me; the long grass looks up at me and I know that all it will take to make it pretty is a simple mow but the act of mowing itself is not something I particularly like.

Which is sad. I thought I'd like it. I'm hoping once I'm settled in and it's something I get to do in my own leisure time, rather than have to dash out when I have a spare minute, it'll get easier. Helpful friends have suggested paying a neighbour kid to do it. That's an option...but I have to find some neighbour kids first.



I do have a little bit of help with the grass though. One of the bunnies I noticed when I first moved in, likes to sit on the grass in my back yard and eat. That's quite helpful. Now, he just needs about 100 more friends to make an impact. Though I think 100 rabbits on my back lawn might be a little too much for a suburban neighbourhood. However, I do appreciate the bunny's help though.


Last night, I had to set my rubbish out for the first time. I've never had to do that before. When you live in an apartment, there are dumpsters for you to throw your trash bags into and they are magically emptied once or twice a week. Not with a house; with a house, you have to call and set up your trash disposal and then remember to put it out. I did remember but, naturally, it was right after I'd showered and was in my pajamas. I'm going to write myself a big note for next week.



The other thing with the house is the neighbour's dogs. I mentioned them before. I think they're rat-terriers of some kind or another. Every time I go out, they go mad, barking at me. My neighbour said they'd be friendly so I went over to say hi, hoping if I did that often enough, they'd get used to me. Alas, they were NOT friendly and I was rather afraid they were going to Rat-Terrier my hand off. Why is it that everyone thinks their dogs are friendly but when it comes down to it, they're not? I'm hoping these dogs calm down soon because I've actually started rethinking visits to my yard when they're outside which is rather ridiculous because it's not my fault they're maniac dogs.



So, life is settling down, finally. This is a fact for which I am glad. It's been so chaotic for the past couple of weeks and it's nice to feel like the storm is past and the calm is settling in. For a while there, moving seemed so daunting but as I locked up my apartment last night, I had a nice satisfied feeling that I had done it and I'd done it for the last time in what I hope is, at least, quite a few years time.



Happy Thursday.

All Moved in...Finally!

It's Monday morning after an insanely busy weekend and all I have to say is...I'm tired. It's nice to have a break from work but I think, sadly, work tends to be more relaxing than this last weekend.

I can't complain, however. The move went smoothly which made life easier. As soon as the movers showed up, I felt a huge weight fly off my shoulders and I knew that from there, things would be fine. I watched them effortlessly carry my heavy furniture down the stairs, load it up and then unload it at the other end. As soon as the furniture was out of my apartment, I realized I had been stressing for no reason: There was hardly anything left to move. As soon as the furniture was placed in my new house, it felt like a home already.

Since then, I worked diligently; I unpacked the kitchen so that, at the very least, I could cook and make food. I set up the computer, I set up the TV. I unpacked the DVD's. I put up some paintings that have been waiting to be displayed since I moved from Los Angeles. Now, I don't have to worry about being 'fined' for nail holes in my walls the way I would in my apartment.

The house looks....good. Don't get me wrong: There's still a magnitude of boxes that I've been ignoring but the beautiful thing is that there is a place for everything already. I don't have to worry about where to put things because there's room for everything. It'll take some time to get fully unpacked but it's feeling pretty nice to have a house and to be able to call it home at last.

Of course, naturally, there are a few slight drawbacks. My neighbours have those yappy dogs I mentioned before. Well, I've been going to the house for other three weeks and yet still, every time I go outside, they go ballistic. Now, I've discovered they also go ballistic if I'm in my room which just happens to face onto the neighbours house. If they hear me move, they bark.

I'm used to yappy dogs. My parents have a few of them. I love dogs so I'm not visualizing tossing them off a balcony or anything because they're just doing their doggy thing. Yet it is a little bit frustating to go outside, hear the dogs and then watch the neighbours have to shepherd the dogs in because of the noise. It almost makes me feel guilty for going in my own backyard which seems a little...silly. I'm hoping they do, eventually, settle down. I don't want to not get along with my neighbours. I'm wondering if I ask if I can give them a treat, that'll help. I have a few left over from Sausage's visit.

Aside from that, the only downfall is the fact that I'm unfamiliar with the 'noises' of the house. During the day, they're no big deal. At night, lying in a rather unfamiliar room, those noises can be...a little creepy. The water heater especially is a little unnerving; it has this rather odd groan to it that sounds a little like the Titanic did in the film when it started sinking. The ceiling creaks a little too which at times sounds like someone's moving around in my attic. Naturally, I try to move past that thought quickly because otherwise my overactive imagination will start working twice as fast and I'll never be able to sleep.

Now it's Monday and I'm finally in the office. I had to commute this morning and I timed it pretty well. In future, I'll have to remember to make coffee and toast to eat on the drive but I didn't get time today, unfortunately. It just means my tummy will make some peculiar noises until it is fed. I'm going to drink some tea to appease it since there's absolutely no coffee in the office. This is not a good thing. It might be my turn to get coffee too. Oops.

However, even though today will be busy at work, compared to my weekend, I think I can handle it. The rest of the week is also going to be busy after tomorrow as the San Diego trip to Comic-Con looms. I'm looking forward to it; I only wished I'd planned better so I could find time to see some of my California friends but, alas, when you books something on the spur-of-the-moment, it's hard to think of these things.

I'm a tired Monkeypants today because of the weekend yet...I'm also a happy Monkeypants. Being a homeowner is exciting and, at long last, I'm starting to appreciate that fact. I still have a lot to do but now I'm there...it feels like home. And that feels pretty nice to me.

Happy Monday.

Slush Puppies make Everything Better...

Mornings like this are muddled. I had to turn around on my way to home to run back to pick up a birthday card to mail to a friend. I hate being late with birthdays, even by a day. Then I get into work and there's a steady flow of morning visitors by my cube. There often is in the mornings: Coworkers stop by to chat. Yet today, my cubicle-neighbour is also in which means there's even more chatter.

Not that I mind but it means my morning isn't off to its routine beginning and sometimes routine is good. At the moment, I need routine because my life is so muddled elsewhere that I'm trying to not feeling like I'm drowning in the stress of moving.

I took a really full carload to the house last night and I still have several to go. I'm trying to take it in pieces, not look at the overwhelming amount of stuff I still feel like I have to do.

Yet it's Friday; I have a weekend to worry and I'm hoping once the movers have taken the furniture tomorrow, it will look less intimidating in my apartment. I'm also looking forward to actually living in my house. That happens...beginning tomorrow.

This has been a week of "lasts". That always happens when I move. For example, today was the last easy commute I have for a while. No longer will I have an 8-minute hop to the office but, instead, have a 40 minute commute again. Once the office moves, I'll be back to a ten minute drive. I'm actually not upset about the commute for now. I like driving; I like the thinking time. Some of my novels were thought up on my commutes to work. It'll be nice to have that time to just let your mind wander.

Last night was also the last time I will sit at my computer in my apartment and email, the last time I'll really make lunch for work in my apartment. I know, I know...it's small stuff but I love my apartment and I'm going to be sad to miss it.

Still, life moves forward and so must I. Last night, I started unpacking my kitchen at the house. I had a rather scary experience as I was measuring my pantry for shelves. The overhead light/fan in the kitchen has a glass globe on it; it fell off and shattered on the floor. I am extremely thankful I wasn't standing under it because, at the very least, it would have hurt. It probably wouldn't have been quite serious so I'm glad I chose that moment to measure my pantry. Needless to say, it got my heart racing a little. Nothing like a near concussive-experience to scare the crap out of you.

So I'm glad it's the weekend. Work has been busy this week. I'd like to think I'm slowly but surely finding out where I fit in my company and now they're starting to realize that my experience is quite useful, I have a lot more work to do. I'm hoping that lasts for a while.

It's nice to be busy but part of me is just longing for life to settle down again so I can be faced only with choices such as "stay here or go to my parent's this weekend?" or "what's for dinner?" At the moment, choosing things such as the height at which to mow my grass or flat paint or semi-gloss are ruling my life. Again, I ask, when, exactly, did I become a grown up? I miss the days of trying to decide which flavour of Slush Puppie to get at the local Pak a Sak.

I miss Slush Puppies. Even in England we used to get Slush Puppies. It was such a treat to get one on a hot day. The only problem I've always have is that I suck the flavour out and am left with a lot of flavourless ice-crystals. I've never understood that. My friends all got them and theirs still had flavour. In fact, that happens to me what kind of frozen drink it is: Arctic Freeze, Icee, Slurpee or Slushie. Hmm....

You know, I pass by a convenience store which has a big Slush Puppie sign in front of it every time I go from my apartment to my house. I'm thinking I'm going to stop there today. Slush Puppies make everything better as long as you go heavy on the syrup, light on the ice. I intend to do just that. Maybe it'll make me feel like a kid again, even for a few minutes.

Sometimes that's all you need. Happy Friday.

Moving Preparations and Harry Potter (of course)

This week is going by rather quickly. I'd say that was a good thing but since this weekend leads to moving, a wedding and a lot of work to get ready for my trip next week, I think it's going to be a while before I get to relax.

I did get to work on the house yesterday though. I did such domestic things such clean out the fridge, scrub the path and plant some...plants.

There's nothing more disgusing that cleaning out someone else's fridge. I know it's my fridge now but until it's clean, I don't lay claim to it. It's clean now, thus it's my fridge. However, that was after an awful lot of scrubbing and cleaning. There were things spilled in there that I don't think I want to know from whence they came. They were sticky, smelly and just plain disgusting. I, fortunately, didn't find any furry vegetables though there was a bag of ancient potatoes buried in there as well as some milk that expired rather a long time ago. It was not a pleasant experience but it's about as clean as it will ever get now so I think it's time I started calling it my fridge.

I won't even talk about the bath. Let's just say that cleaning that took a while. It was literally grey in spots from dirt stains. I took down the ancient shower curtain, a tropical fish print and prepared to put my own more demure fabric butterfly one up when I move in.

I think the house is finally ready for me. I even started unpacking the kitchen boxes. I'm having a problem there. I mean how do you know which cupboard should hold what? Whenever I go in someone else's kitchen, everything has a place and it seems to fit. My cupboards are gaping and empty. I don't know which one should be my plate/dish cupboard. which one should hold my spices or wine glasses. There's so many choices to make!

I did start putting things in cupboards but I'm afraid that I did it wrong and I won't like it. I know I can change it later but it's my first official home and I want to get it right. It's one of those things that is so insignificant that later on, I'll wonder what I was worrying about but it still seems important right now.

I did reward myself yesterday with a screening of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Seriously, did you think I wouldn't? I won't spoil the film for anyone but I will say that now I've seen it, it's definitely not something I think a five-year-old should see and, if they do, I certainly hope they don't 'get' it; it's just too...dark.

However, for those of us who love the Potter books and the Potter universe, it's well worth a watch. I like it more than the last movie- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - which I felt was ridiculously rushed in an effort to make the shortest film of the series. It's one of the most intense and detailed of the books and to cram it into a short film was a bit ridiculous. This one is much better. There are moments of hilarity, moments of sadness and moments of just plain creepiness. That's just the way I like my Harry Potter.

I like to reward myself once in a while like that. It makes it worthwhile to be productive. It's like being on a diet: Sometimes you just have to cheat otherwise it just becomes miserable.

So, I rewarded myself last night. It will get me through the rest of the week which will consist largely of loading up my car, disassembling furniture and unpacking boxes. It's moving time, no doubt about it.

And, speaking of moving, I would like to take this opportunity to wish one of my good friends luck on her last day in the office before she leaves L.A. for the unchartered territory of Texas. I try not to mention specific names but she's one of my loyal readers and a great friend to boot. I met her in L.A. and since then we've both had the need to escape the city life for one of a less harried existence. As you drive out of the city, Ms. P- look back once, see the smog-encased landscape and think of the green lands that lie ahead.

Ironically, we're both having the movers come on the same day. It's strange how life works in tandem with those you care about, even when they're miles away. I've already done my cross-country move and I know how hard it is. I shouldn't be complaining about moving to a house, 20 miles from where I live now. Especially as it's my house.

I'm still getting used to saying that. Good luck, Ms. P-

And Happy Thursday.

Coming Home Again...

It's a gloomy day outside. Once again, the weatherman was wrong. He said it was supposed to be hot and sunny all week. There wasn't supposed to be any showers that actually fell; they were supposed to stay up in the clouds. Unfortunately, when I left this morning, there was a sprinkle happening, just enough to completely make a mess of my car.

Nevertheless, I don't mind a little gloom. I do hope the sun comes out this evening though. This is not because I miss the sun, necessarily but because I have to finish painting with my "Mulling Spices" and having sunlight makes it much easier to paint evenly. Also, since the room I'm painting lacks overhead light and requires a plug in lamp, it makes it a little dark in there if there's no sun.

Last night I took a break from the house and had dinner with some friends and saw "The Hangover." I have to say, I enjoyed that movie quite a lot. It was very silly, very 'male-oriented' and yet because it wasn't men being macho and coming out on top but, instead, men who did very, very stupid things, I rather enjoyed it. There was something satisfying about the characters who weren't more than average in their lives using their drunken/drug-enhanced night to do things that they'd never do if they were sober. Yes, they were farfetched but...well....sadly, a lot of it was believable.

I liked the diversion from the house. The little town where I live is a rather nice place to go after work. The quaint little downtown area caters to college students so there are bars and restaurants galore. Most places serve pub-grub but, given that it's a rather expensive private college in town, also gives the rather spoiled students some upscale options too. There are more and more sushi or tapas places popping up. Unfortunately, around here, tapas are more like small versions of normal bar appetizers with a slightly more gourmet twist such as mini burgers with blue cheese and some fancy dressing or spinach artichoke dip with crostini.

My new neighbourhood is much more suburban. There are a ton of places to eat but they're more chain-based, less small-town. I think I'm actually going to miss that though since our office is now not moving for a few months, I'll be commuting back here. Thus, it's not like I won't be able to still enjoy the local offerings. I'm also going to miss my apartment. I thought that last night. I actually love it; it's been the first apartment I've lived that has been easy. My first two apartments had all kinds of issues that I know I've mentioned in my blog: ants, mildew, no air conditioning. This place is just...nice. Everything works. The place is clean. It's efficient. I love it.

I'm not looking forward to moving out in some ways. For one thing, moving is always a chore. Secondly, thanks to Sausage, I have to explain the rather large hole in my carpet. It's not like I can pull a rug over it and run away. It's going to be time to own up to the fact I had a contraband Sausage in my apartment for a few days.

The nice thing about having a month to move is much of my smaller, easy to move stuff is already at the house. Each time I go, I take a load. I've moved a lot of the smallish stuff already. I'm hiring movers just for the furniture. That shouldn't take long by the time I'm done with everything else. It's actually quite sad how little furniture I have but, having been an apartment dweller for almost 9 years, it's no surprise.

This is, however, a much easier move than my last one. A 45 minute drive is far easier than the 4 day drive it took to get from L.A. to Ohio. I get to ferry my stuff this time rather than watch it take off in a lorry four days before I need to get in a car and move myself. It's also much easier to say goodbye to the life I'm living at the moment because, well, it's not like I'm actually leaving that behind.

I still miss a lot of things about L.A. I stay in touch with the people I was closest to and in many ways, I talk to them almost as much- if not more- than I used to. There are some things that aren't as easy; I can't just go to the movies with my friend the way I used to when we both had nothing to do. I can't just drive to another friend's house so we can wander aimlessly around Barnes and Noble and while away the hours just enjoying talking about books. I miss the events, the food, the beach and the variety.

Yet, I don't regret my move. I'm content here. It's funny how we have to leave home to find it. I was talking to a friend at work the other day. She has a daughter who graduates from high school this year and who has the "I hate this town, I don't want to be trapped here" bug. I had that bug. It took a few years after high school and college for me to get away but I did. I went to L.A., had my fill and, ironically, returned to a town much like the one I'd been so eager to leave. I think somewhere during my L.A. years, I realized it didn't matter where I lived. I'd really been looking to find out who I was and I thought that escaping to a big city would tell me. I suppose it did, in a way. Somehow, it made me realize that it wasn't about where I lived but what I wanted. And what I wanted had changed. I stopped needing excitement and glamour. I started needing a life in which I could settle.

And now, having just bought a house, I'm settling. Yet, as it would even a couple of years ago, the thought doesn't scare me as I thought it would. It doesn't make me feel like I'm giving up anything. In fact, it makes me feel like I'm gaining everything. There's something to be said about that. I hope my friend's daughter feels the same way someday but, as it did for me, sometimes, it takes the actual experience of leaving to make you realize you really just want to come home.

I hope she finds that too.

Happy Thursday.

Post Traumatic Paint Disorder and Other Things...

I think I'm sleepier this morning than yesterday, if that's possible. I blame it on the fact that I actually had a semi-relaxing evening last night. I refused to go to my house and work just because I knew if I did, it would not be a fun experience.

The sad thing is even when I don't go to the house, I can't seem to stop thinking about it. I dreamed about painting last night. That was not terribly relaxing. Yesterday, I went on a walk at lunch with some coworkers and we happened to pass by a man who was carrying a paint tray and roller. I felt a cold shudder run up and down my spine. I think I might be suffering from a little Post Traumatic Paint Disorder.

Still, here I am, somewhat alert and ready to start my day. Well...ok, so I'm ready to start the day. I'm hoping the alert part will come later.

It's funny how easy it is to follow a morning routine without being really alert. From the moment I stumble out of bed, shutting off the annoying morning radio show since it did it's job and woke me up, I'm usually in a bit of a stupor. Then I turn on the morning news on the TV and start the process of getting ready. I've started to like the news in the mornings; its good company. Today there were no bears in the news. I was quite sad about that. Lately, it seems like there's always a black bear somewhere or other, stumbling into someone's back yard. I like bear stories. Yesterday, the news was featuring a local beef jerky manufacturer. Well, actually, it wasn't the news as much as the weatherman. He was doing an on-site visit of a local beef jerky company that's been rated one of the best in the U.S. I was quite happy for the weatherman since, lately, he's been wrong about the weather almost every day. At least there's not too much he can screw up by talking to someone about beef jerky. On the plus side, they didn't show us how the beef jerky came to be but just showed us the finished result. That was a relief. It's one thing to enjoy the taste of something; it's another thing to actually see the nasty process of how it comes to be. I prefer ignorance with some of my food. That way I can still love a good hot dog, enjoy bacon with my breakfast and eat at KFC.

Still, it was nice to see the weatherman out and about yesterday. He really is a terrible meteorologist. He was the one that promised a nice, sunny, hot and humid 4th of July only two days before the actual day. Then we had a cool, wet and dreary 4th of July. I find it hard to believe that with the amazing live Doppler 10 Thousand or whatever we're up to now, it's so hard to predict the weather two days ahead of time. However, this is why weatherman is the...the weatherman and I am Captain Monkeypants. Maybe it's like one of those mystery novels; weatherman deliberately misleads us so that we keep tuning in to guess whether he'll be right today.

Probably not though. As always, I find my best option is to stick my head out the window and see what the weather's doing. I keep an umbrella in the car. I keep sunglasses in my car. I have a snow shovel, just in case, in the boot of my car. So....I think I'm covered. Though I'm not counting on using the snow shovel for a few months. As much as I love snow, there's a season for that and it is not now.

Clearly, I'm feeling rambly today. I didn't really have a topic in mind when I sat down to write this. Life is a little busy at the moment. I mostly like it that way. I do miss the leisure of sitting down, tapping away at my computer and being able to write whatever I feel like. I have my "office" picked out in my house; I'm planning on furnishing it with a lot of books and my computer and that's it. It'll be my hideaway and hopefully that will push me forward in my writing. I've been at a standstill too long. I've blamed Amazon.com and I've blamed Publisher's Weekly. To some extent, I still blame them but there comes a point when you have to move on. Although I'm sure both Borders and Barnes and Noble are quite happy with my Amazon.com grudge. I've made a firm point of doing all my bookbuying from those two stores. Given my latest obsession with the Sookie Stackhouse novels, I'd say they've both done rather well. It's my private way of sticking my tongue out at Amazon.com. I hold no illusions that they care but it satisfies me to have to work a little harder to shop rather than relying on the old standby of Amazon. Hey, Barnes and Noble offer free shipping too so there, Amazon.com.

Ok, now I'm really babbling. Which means it's time for me to wrap this up for the day. Sometimes it's nice just to write whatever's on my mind. Thanks, as always, for bearing with me and reading.

Happy Tuesday.

Sometimes, It'd Be Nice to Have a Husband...

So I decided not to wait until tomorrow to blog even though, typically, I only blog on weekdays. It's been a few days since I had a chance to blog. The conference got the better of me. I did end up being social and going out both Wednesday and Thursday nights but I ended up watching other people drink rather than imbibe too much myself. It's amazing to see how much people let loose and also sort of fascinating in a voyeuristic way. I don't judge: I'm a firm believer that everyone needs to let down their hair once in a while.

The ending of the conference took a bit weight off my shoulders. It's hard to be social for such long periods of time; We started at 8 a.m. and went out until at least midnight. I was pretty exhausted by the time we got back.

Yet I wasn't too exhausted to ignore the fact that my house is now...my house. Friday afternoon, not too long after I got back from Indianapolis, I headed to my house, let myself in the front door for the very first time and took stock of what I had done.

I confess...when I saw my new house, I had a bad case of buyer's remorse. I mentioned that the previous owner was a sweet little old lady. However, I don't know whether she just didn't clean or just couldn't clean properly but I'm telling you, that house looked nasty. The carpets were grey with cobwebs, the walls filthy with stains. There was a layer of grime over everything. I walked through hoping to find something, anything to remind me why I wanted to live there.

Yet it was too late to back out. The house is mine. With a heavy heart, I finally plugged in my vacuum cleaner and went over each room multiple times. Three hours later and three vacuum bags full, the house suddenly looked different...better. The carpets were blue again and spending that much time in each room began to help me feel like it truly was my house. I moved on, throwing out many of the items the old lady had left behind. I couldn't decide if she forgot to pack them or she thought she was doing me a favour. For example, the fridge was still full of old mayonnaise, pickles, ketchup and cheese. Sadly, much of it had expired and what was left just didn't appeal so I did a thorough purge. At first, when I opened the freezer, I was excited. There was an unopened filet mignon in there, wrapped in bacon, ready to grill. Then I checked the date. It's "sell-by" date was July of 2005. Now, I'm a believer in freezers providing a way to preserve food but, well...that...was a little beyond preserving.

I spent the rest of the weekend shampooing the carpets. I love doing that, I've decided. Though the grime that came out of each room when I emptied the bucket of the Rug Doctor machine was disgusting, there was something very fulfilling about seeing it. I scrubbed down the walls and scrubbed the kitchen. I think the house is finally looking good. I'm going to paint next and have already begun putting masking tape down. It's my house and I'm planning on making it really mine.

It's been an exciting, if exhausting, weekend. I realize that, as a single woman, it's probably a little harder for me to get everything done. I don't have assistance when I'm doing anything. This makes the smallest things difficult. For example, I rented the carpet cleaner and brought it home only to discover it had a three-prong plug. The outlets in my house are primarily two prong. Back I went to Lowe's to buy outlet adapters. If I had someone to help me, they could have done that for me. When I was done cleaning the carpets, I had to run the carpet cleaner back. Again, an errand that I could have sent someone else to do while I started cleaning.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I pride myself on my independence. I'm used to it. It's just hard sometimes when all the people who know I bought a house will tell me things I need to do and make me think of things I never would have thought of without them bringing it up. It's nice to have that type of help but sometimes, there are things I just can't think about because I simply don't have the time. I'd love to be able to get a lawnmower and mow the grass. I know it'd be cheaper to buy a used mower. However, that would entail finding the time to search Craigslist for a mower, arranging to see it, going to look at it and then buying it. I'd like to do that but, alas, I'm trying to move into my house and get it fixed up. I have to weigh my priorities. I have enlisted my sister and brother-in-law's help with that, asking them to keep an eye out.

I'd like to be able to do everything by myself; I'm just not sure it's possible. There are only so many hours in the day and with the house being 30 minutes from my apartment, the drive is a factor. On the plus side, there's a huge, lovely Lowe's store five minutes down the street. That's going to be useful. Well, actually, since I went there four times in two days, it's already been useful. Trouble is, each time I go, I realize just how much stuff I'm going to have to learn.

Still, it's all experience and learning and knowing how to do things is half the battle. Going it alone is always hard but there's something rewarding in knowing I found the house and bought it by myself and I'm going to get it fixed up just the way I like it without having to bounce paint colours off someone else. It'd be nice to have a husband to help with the hard stuff but, at the same time, he might not like the cranberry-sage colour scheme I'm going with in the living room.

There are some advantages to being a singleton.

Happy Sunday.

Home is Where my Bed is, Contentment is where my Heart Lies...

It's Friday today and I'm in a far better mood than I was yesterday. I apologize for that by the way; some days you just wake up crabby and moody and the shadow of the day never quite goes away.

Today seems better though. The mere fact that it's a Friday helps. I had a nice relaxing evening with Sausage last night, ordering pizza, watching a little "True Blood," and catching up with a good friend on the phone. That's always a mood enhancer.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. I have a bridal shower tomorrow and after that, I'm heading to my parent's to house-sit/drop of The Sausage. In a way, I'll be sad to lose him from my apartment. Aside from the stress of having to leave him alone all day, having those liquid brown eyes following me with adoration (even if he is really just waiting for a snack), is a lovely thing. Last night while eating my pizza, I was sitting on the floor. He was on the sofa behind me and he just put his head on my shoulder. It was a nice moment. It's about as much of a Marley and Me moment than I'll ever get.

As of Monday, I'll be a dog-less singleton again. I'm going to start packing to move though when I look around, I feel like much of what I need to pack can just be taken as I need it. I can pack my media up, my CD's, my books, my DVD's. I can take my Christmas decorations and storage-type items. But when do you decide when to take things like cookware, silverware, bathroom stuff? I use all that now. It's going to be a balancing act between when I decide to physically move into the house and move out of my apartment. When my bed goes, I go. That's pretty much all there is to it, I suppose. I always say home is where my bed is. I have a bed at my parents. Thus...I have two homes.

Given that it's a Friday, I'm prone to ramble. I'm rambling now. I was reading a friend's blog today. She just bought a unicycle and juggling pins and is going to bartending school. She recently graduated with honours from college with double degree in Engineering and Philosophy. She has decided she doesn't want a 9-5 job and is now exploring different paths in life. I'd like to admire her for that but mostly, I can't help thinking how lucky she is to have friends and family who are supporting her as she goes through a stage in life many of us go/went through. I graduated with a degree in Technical Theatre. When I left school I became...a legal secretary. I wanted to go to law school, you see and that was my way of figuring out if I really wanted it or if it was a the effect of reading too much John Grisham. It turned out to be the Grisham effect because I realized law was boring. I moved on to other fields, medical, journalism, video production, market research and various other fields. I had my writing ephiphany and from then onwards, I realized it wasn't about how I earned my paycheck, just that I liked my job enough to keep doing it so I could keep writing.

I'm reminding myself of that now. I'm letting this job trip me up, fall into a pit of insecurity because I'm just not being utilized enough. I need to remember that while I need to like my job, it isn't where my heart will ever truly be. My heart is mentally sitting at a computer, the sun pouring in while I hold a cup of coffee, a warm brown Sausage dog at my feet and a novel open on the screen. I can have that no matter where I'm working and when I picture that, I realize it's not so much about getting a good review from Publisher's Weekly, it's not about debating with acolytes of Nathan Bransford about craft vs. profession and what makes us writers and it's not about those rejection slips I get regularly. It's about that level of contentment in knowing I have the power to create anything on that Word document.

I hope my friend discovers that somewhere between learning to ride a unicycle, juggling and going to bartending school. I hope that someday, just as I did, she wakes up and realizes that working in an office, working a regular day isn't imprisonment, it's a means to support the things in life you really want to do. It'd be nice if we could all have our dream job but sometimes we think we know what that is and then, when we have it, we realize it's not what we thought it would be. For me, that was theatre. I loved it. I love it still. But I got burned out from it, I got tired of working 18 hour days, tired of seeing the magic of the theatre in it's realistic, down-and-dirty reality. I still love it and wouldn't mind doing some light theatre work but when I actually got to do it, I realize it wasn't my dream job.

I'm sure there is such a thing as a dream job. Right now, I think it would be nice to get paid to blog. I'd love to be a television blogger; I do that occasionally on my Captain TV blog but not as often as I'd like to. I still get to do it though, I just don't get paid for it. So, in a way, I am doing my dream job, blogging here every day, blogging sporadically there. I just don't earn a living from it. Yet when I do it, my heart is there and I am happy. Contentment is where my heart lies and it lies with writing. It's a nice realization.

Happy Friday.

Confessions of a Book-a-holic....

It has been one of those weeks that has rushed by. It's been nice that the workdays have passed in a blur but it also means my evenings have passed by in a blur also. I'd like to say I don't know where the time went but I do: homebuying is a time consuming business.

Yet my house hunt is over; at least for now. My offer was accepted and all I need to do now is spend a lot of money so it can actually be mine. There are so many little things to be done: title insurance, home insurance, home inspections....then there's the down payment. Yet, I have a steady job. I have a little nest egg. If all goes well, I'll be living in my new home in less than three months. It's a nice prospect.

As a writer, I realized that as I was touring the homes, I was mentally asking myself if I thought I would be able to write in that house. There were some that had an easy answer of yes. Others, no matter how cute and nice they were just felt wrong. I think I'll be able to write in my new home. It has a little patio. There are three bedrooms; one for me, one for guests and one that I am bound and determined to make my library/office. It probably will be more of an office than a library because it's not that big of a room and I have a few too many books to cram into that room. I seem to collect books even when I try not to. Truth be told, I can't bear to see a book be thrown away or underappreciated. Sometimes I buy used books just to give them a home, even if I already have them. This is why I have two hardback copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The library was selling one for $1. It seemed such a shame to leave it there so it became mine.

This is probably why I have so many books. Also, I think I'm a book addict. I wonder if there's a support group for that. "Hello, I'm Captain Monkeypants and I'm a book-a-holic." I mean, I can't not buy books, I panic if I have to get on a plane and don't have at least 3 books: One that I'm already reading, one for backup and one just in case the backup book is bad or reads superfast or if I'm delayed and have extra-reading time. Sometimes, on long flights, to England I take four books. I always have a book nearby or, at least, access to a source of books. If I don't read for a while, I start feeling like something's missing in my life and I go on a binge where I read four or five books in a short time frame so that uneasy feeling disappears. Yup...when I type it out, I realize I'm a book-junkie.

Yet I can't help it. Books have always been there for me since I was old enough to turn the pages. Over the years my tastes have changed but my love of reading hasn't.

I love having enough books that I can divide them into sections which most likely only make sense to me. There's my "Books I adore and that have inspired me" that features books by Neil Gaiman, Stephen King's On Writing because without that book, I wouldn't be a novelist. There are some stray Harry Potter books there because I have doubles. There are some reference books but it's a hodgepodge that makes sense to me. I have a classics shelf with all of the literature that I've collected. There's my Fantasy/Sci-fi/Horror shelf. I also have a "fun books" shelf that has some of the good "chick-lit" books I've liked, primarily Marian Keyes and Jennifer Weiner. There's my "just great books" shelf that houses books like I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb, Middlesex by Jeffrey Eurinides, The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay and Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon. This shelf could easily merge with the "Books that have inspired me" shelf but I keep them seperate because...I do.

And then there's the shelf that houses the mounds of paper, the unbound manuscripts that belong to me. To a stranger, they look like worn sheets of paper that have been marked up and thrown in a folder. To me, they're the results of my hours, days, months of work. These are my books, ones that aren't ready to be labeled by being put on a shelf. They have their own place both in my library and my heart because these are my stories, I know these characters better than anyone in the world does. I know them beyond what I've captured on my pages and those messy piles of paper are my organized chaos.

When I moved from California, I tried to get rid of some of my books. In fact, I did donate a lot of paperbacks to the Salvation Army. However, it's been seven months now and, well, there's been a birthday and a Christmas and trips to the library and gift cards and....you get the picture. I'm going to need lots of boxes because those books? They're all coming with me.

That's the part of buying my house that I don't think I like...the packing. I feel like I just did that. Which, really, I did. This time, though, I'm moving less than an hour away and I can move in shifts. So my books will happily ride with me from my apartment to my new home and I know they'll be safe. Last time, I had to trust my books to a moving company and though they did arrive safely, I worried for them. Though, as a confession, during my drive from California to Ohio, I did actually transport one box of books, my favourites, the ones I feel like I couldn't live without with me in my car just so I could keep a watchful eye on them.

I know, I know, that just adds to the theory that I'm a book-addict. I can't help it. I am what I am. Though...as a writer of books, is that the equivalent of having a meth lab in my apartment? eek, gads...let's not think of such things.

I suppose it will soon be time to begin packing my books and everything else up again. I already have a few boxes, I'll need more. I always need more. I have learned that there are never enough boxes when I'm moving; every time I think I'm done...I find something hiding that has to be packed. I will take my time with my books though and I'm sure there will be one box that won't get packed until the last minute just so I can keep my eye on them and just in case I need to read one.

Hello, I'm Captain Monkeypants and I'm a book-addict.

Happy Friday.