Why Does it Have to be So Hard?

"So, I admit that I'm a bit confused."
-Me, e-mail to Fidlar-Doubleday rep.

Another delay in the publishing process. Egad, will this book ever be printed? This time the delay is because of payment. I spoke with the gal about using a purchase order for payment, and she said that'd work. Then, a couple of days ago she asked where our credit application was. But, we're doing a PO for payment, not a credit card. Huh?

A handful of e-mails and a couple of phone calls later, I spoke with someone in customer service (the rep. I'd been talking with is out of the office for the next couple of days) and finally got it cleared up. The credit application (which requires a credit card number) is a safeguard for them, to make sure they don't get ripped off. Fair enough.

The next hitch - the woman who had the P-card for the English department (i.e. the department credit card) is out of the office until next Wednesday. More waiting. I'm tellin' ya, sometimes I wonder if this book is ever going to happen. And now it's time to start working on the next one already...

One of these days we'll get a nice big box full of the finished product, and I think I may die of shock right on the spot.

Big Bad Bead Order Update

"I sent the order through today."
-Rebecca

I'm so excited. I've spent over a month looking forward to new bead goodies, and with five day shipping, I might have them as soon as this time next week. The days can't go by fast enough.

Sometimes a Bear is Just a Bear

Timothy Treadwell: Oh my gosh! The bear has left me her poop! It's her crap! It was just in her butt and it's still warm! This is a gift...
-Grizzly Man

I just watched this documentary last night and I have to say it's pretty good. Also impressive in how it shows the very unbalanced mental state of Treadwell. Not that Herzog purposely sets out to do so, in fact, he gives Treadwell a lot of credit. However, the simple facts of the footage show a very disturbed guy.

Treadwell was delusional at the very least - anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that wild animals are just that. Yet, in footage he shot of himself he gives these big speeches about how much he loves the bears in a they're-my-best-friends kind of way. Creepy. Add to that his profanity laden rants against the forest service, his paranoid comments about who's out to get him, his lack of concern about habituating wild animals to humans, and that he took personal offense at the harsher side of nature, and you get a guy who proclaims to love nature, yet doesn't understand it. Nuts, I tell ya. I strongly recommend this documentary to anyone who's got an interest in either psychology or ecology, or those who just have morbig curiosity.

Let me just interject here that I spent about six years volunteering at a raptor rehab. center. I want to make it very explicit that wild animals are not your friends, and wild predators even less so. The only time animals "get along" with humans is when they've been habituated to them, in the case of birds, it's called imprinting and it's an irreversible mental process wherein a bird believes they are human.

We had an imprinted barn owl who's an excellent case-in-point. He was so firmly imprinted that he made courtship gestures toward humans (especially blond gals), fell asleep during presentations, and attacked another barn owl who was once put in the same cage. What's the big deal about falling asleep? A wild raptor will never fully relax in the presence of humans because it looks at us and sees larger predators. That Skyler wasn't worried was a bad sign. Imprints are permanent residents. Unlike birds who've been physically injured, but then heal, imprinting can never undone.

Wild animals are wild animals and even people who know what they're doing (I'm not including Treadwell here) can get hurt. Peggy, who was the Raptor Center biologist, has a severed nerve in her left hand and a thumb that doesn't work quite right because she didn't pay as much attention as she should have. She was doing a presentation with a great horned owl (non-imprint) and let the crowd get a little too close. The bird tightened its grip on her fist and ran its talons right through the glove, her hand, and out the opposite side of the glove. Peggy didn't even notice until someone told her she was bleeding.

While I was at the R.C. I was never hurt by a bird (though I did get bitten by a feeder rat). Part of this was the training I recieved, more was luck. After all, I often did the exact same thing Keith did when one day he was holding a bald eagle and the eagle turned its head and bit Keith's lip. Keith had to get stitches. Predators are built to kill, and even though we take precautions, we're never completely safe.

Treadwell didn't give the bears the respect they deserved as predators. While the loss of human life is sad, I can't feel particularly upset about his death. It's like feeling sorry for the guy who comes to the bar every night and drives home drunk, saying "I know how to handle my liquor," then one night smashes into a tree.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for protecting these bears and other wild animals. I just draw the line at making them my "buddies."

Purple Teardrops

I'm not a huge fan of teardrop shaped beads, but for some reason I got some purple glass teardrops to go with some purple round beads I had. Add some silver daisy spacers and small green glass pearls, and this is what you end up with. This one I like for its slightly trendy look and the abundance of silver.

Talking Again

"I'd kinda like to see you at some point. Maybe that's a mistake. Maybe I'll second guess myself on that. I don't know when or how that'll go, so how about you call me when you're ready?"
-Keith

When Keith and I split, I sent him an e-mail (too emotional to call) saying I didn't like the idea of him disappearing from my life all of sudden. A few days ago, he replied to it. A couple more e-mails, and the next step is for me to give him a call. In the abstract, I'm thinking "Yeah, sure. It'll be easy." Then I realize that's wishful thinking. *Sigh*

Part of me wants to call him right now, to prove that I'm not afraid. Ha. Maybe tomorrow. It's strange. We went from enemies, to friends, to dating, to nothing, to... what? Maybe friends again. I have no idea if it'll work, but I think I ought to at least try. He's a good guy, it might work. Or, it might be terribly awkward and uncomfortable. Ugh. I guess there's nothing to do but find out.

Faux Dichro

"How'd you do that?"
-Repeated question


I've hit on a new polymer technique and I've made over a dozen pendants using it. I've had quite a bit of fun, even if some didn't turn out quite as I hoped. Those that turned out well look quite like dicrhoic glass which I love. Whoever invented pearlescent powders should be kissed.

Here are a couple of closer looks (pardon the aluminum foil - I promise better pictures later):

Road Trip: The Return

"Wanna hear a joke?
Ok.
Tell me I'm a desk.
You're a desk.
No I'm not."
-Kyle, relating a bad "joke" his friend told him

I made it all the way to Camii and back without major incident (save a traffic jam or two and a little bit of getting lost) and on time, since I had to work last night and got into town just an hour before I had to clock in. I've never been so glad that waitressing is an on-your-feet job as I was yesterday after spending about six and a half hours driving.

The visit itself was mundo wonderful. I got to see Camii's condo in person. The renovations she's done are lovely, I'm especially fond of the red & black dining area. I can't wait to see what she does with the rest of the rooms. I also got to meet Camii's boyfriend Kyle, who I quite like. We wandered around downtown and checked out the shops - including a rock shop that had two walls of semi-precious beads (it was like dying and going to heaven, but I limited myself to a strand of very cool lava rock beads because of the massive online order). We also went bowling, which was quite hilarious because we're both terrible bowlers.

Then, on Tuesday night we stayed up until after one a.m. chatting and looking through the box of old letters I sent her. That was wild, let me tell ya. Apparently, I'm quite neurotic (demonstrated by letters written in multi-colored pens, plastered with stickers and doodles, which leapt from topic to topic with little warning) . I never realized how tiny I sometimes write. We tried to figure out where the itty-bitty writing comes from, the best guess was that those were time when I was aggitated (though not always).

So, in short, we had great fun and I am so very glad I went to visit. The long-ass drive was well worth it.

No, I'm Not Dead

I've just be away from campus for a while. I'll continue to be away, also. Tomorrow I'm on my way to visit Camii for a couple of days. I promise I'll do some updating when I get back though, along with extra necklaces to play catch-up with.

New Anthologies

"I got your submission. Thanks for contributing."
-Me

Well, the last of the April WM anthology submissions are in. Now comes the part where I start editing things, then send them off to Kathleen, then look at them again, then give them to Katherine for breaking the ties where Kathleen and I disagree.

Oh yeah, and the SI anthology submissions are about to roll in. So, it looks like this summer I'll be working on two different anthologies at the same time. Man, I tell ya, by the time I graduate and stop working for Katherine, I'll be an old hand at making anthologies.

Speaking of which, the one I've been sweating and bleeding over for the past forever is oh-so-very near the point of being published. The paperwork for paying Fidlar-Doubleday is being created/processed and as soon as it's ready, off the PDF goes to the publisher. Then we okay the galleys, then we have the hardcopies in our grubby little hands. Hoorah! I can almost taste it.

Relationship Inventory

"I hate this phrase, I always have, and I hate it because it's so true: Everything happens for a reason. It's the shittiest thing to say to someone during bad and even not-so-great times, but after it's all over and you find the reason, it's also one of the best."
-Camii

The more I think about it, the more I keep coming back to all I've learned through my relationship with Keith. We had over three years of a very good relationship where we never had screaming matches, no one cheated, and we got good at resolving problems. Now that it's over, I keep reminding myself that there are still things I can take with me.

One of the key personal things is that Keith helped me work through a very tough time in my life. The summer before we started dating, I spent three months in Arkansas running a branch office for Vector marketing. I was responsible for nearly all aspects of the office, including payroll and bills, and essentially, I was running my own business. Things didn't go so well, and the business, in all the ways that matter, failed. I took a big emotional and financial hit. Keith helped me stop blaming myself, helped me build my self esteem back up, and gave me a point of reference when I felt like everything had fallen apart. I'll always be grateful to him for that.

Another important thing I can take away is an idea of my standards for a relationship. Whenever I get involved with someone new, I now have a better defined concept of the kind of person I'm looking for, thanks to both Keith's flaws (1) and his strengths (2).

1. First off, I'm looking for someone who:
Isn't so afraid of failure that he refuses to try something risky (and I'm not just talking about getting married, either).
Is more open minded, less judgemental.
Is more sure of themselves.
Has a good idea of who they are, and is comfortable with themselves.
Has a better relationship with their family, or at least tries to.
Takes better care of themselves (Keith had a habit of going all day without eating, then gorging when he did eat (usually crap, too), and of neglecting his sleep - sometimes going off of only four hours or less a night for days at a time, etc.).
Doesn't smoke (this includes the occasional cigar - gag me).
Allows me to have tastes that differ from his - i.e. won't argue with me about why I have to like death metal, or Space Above and Beyond, or residual cigar smell. Who won't sit down on the couch with me while I'm watching Grey's Anatomy then constantly tell me how/why it sucks, etc. For crying out loud, I can enjoy my own thing, you can enjoy yours, and it doesn't have to be a problem! Of course, this was a more recent development, rather than an ongoing one.
Actually has an interest in meeting/getting to know my friends. Keith almost always declined when I invited him to an English major get-together.
Doesn't drink/drinks less. When we started, he almost never drank. Then it grew on him - not to a point most people would consider excessive (not by far) but to a point that bothered me, a drink or two most nights, getting outright drunk every month or two (including at my housewarming party, which was one of the few times he actually spent time with my friends).
Is more positive and looks for solutions to problems rather than just the problems themselves.
Gets the writing thing.

2. I'm also looking for someone who:
Likes to touch/be touched, and I'm not really getting dirty here. I'm talking about holding hands in line at the movies, an arm around each other while we watch TV kind of stuff. Keith was very physically affectionate, which I liked.
Doesn't always need to talk to feel connected, someone comfortable with silence.
Keeps their commitments (No nasty jokes, ok?). If Keith said we were going to dinner Saturday night, we went to dinner Saturday night. If he told his friends he'd be there Saturday night to smoke cigars and drink Scotch, that's where he was. Once he said he'd be there, he was.
Looks forward to seeing me.
Shows me new and nifty things - Without Keith, I doubt I'd even know what Robot Chicken was.
Gets along with my family. Keith even got to the point where he'd give my mom a hug without her asking. Sometimes.
Likes it when I spend time with their friends.
Is in touch with their goofy side.
Doesn't have "traditional" ideas of gender roles. Sometimes Keith bought dinner, sometimes I did, and he liked to cook, had no problem cleaning, doing laundry, etc.
Accepts me as-is.
Is comfortable taking charge sometimes - like coming over and saying, "Okay, this is what we're going to do tonight: first dinner, then some episodes of American Dad."
Is honest with me.
Makes me feel valued - like they lucked-out in being with me.
Likes doing things with me, and is comfortable with us doing things separately also.
Trusts me.

And There Was Much Rejoicing

"Someone puked in the corner."
-Dave

Every year there's this thing called The B-Street Bash which happens each Friday in June. They set up on B Street (thus the name) about five yards from our back patio. There's live music, food, and booze. Half the town turns up, gets drunk, then comes to my bar when B-Street is over.

On the list of things I hate in the world, B-Street makes the top ten. Seriously. People come already drunk which means either they just want water or pop, or they're obnoxious. Oh yeah, and they like to stiff on tips. Obviously, the more money they spend tipping the waitress or bartender, the less money they have for booze. Duh!

Last night was the last one. Words cannot describe how happy that makes me.

There's Always Good With the Bad

"Some of God's greatest gifts are all too often unanswered...
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers"
-Garth Brooks, "Unanswered Prayers"

Since Camii and I have been writing back and forth for so long, with each of us having our respective tough times, we've reminded each other more than once that no matter how bad the thing that happened is, it happened for the best. If we were Christians, we'd say something along the lines of Garth's song. The message is the same, whether there's religion involved or not: faith. As long as you have faith that there will be something positive that comes out of the negagive, you'll be able to find it.

The main difference between happy people and unhappy people is not their circumstances, but rather their attitude. There are people who whine and whine about every little thing, and people who are dying from cancer who celebrate every little thing. It's all about perspective.

With all my "talk" of feeling depressed and lonely, I thought it was time to throw in some positivity. Thus, here are some positive things that I've experienced in the past week:

Support from friends and family, and all everyone's done to try to cheer me up

Having my parents say, "You absolutely did the right thing"

A good writers group meeting, and dinner afterward

Farm cookies made specially for me

New toys for crafting - a dremel tool and pearlescent powders

Spending three hours yesterday experimenting with some polymer clay finishes and getting wonderful faux dichroic glass looks

Almost added to the list, but not quite, 'cause it's tomorrow:

The "End of the SI" Writing Marathon, which means not only will I be making no copies, but I'll also be enjoying free food, some neat people, and writing.

As far as the good that directly came out of this, it mostly comes down to the fact that if stress about the decision to get married was enough to make him leave, then how would we have managed once more serious stress came, like money worries? Then, not only would we be splitting up, we'd be getting divorced. Also, in the time Keith and I have known each other, and since we've started dating, we've both changed. For me, I've gained confidence. For him, he's lost it and picked up habits I despise, like smoking cigars. We weren't meshing as well as we used to, and why would that change just because we lived together? In this case, it's maybe not quite finding the good as avoiding a worse bad.

Cookies and an Anniversary

"Here, mom told me to bring these over to you."
-Casey

It's funny that one week later is harder than four days later. Then again, it makes complete sense. Four days after breaking up with Keith was just that. A week after is an anniversary. It has now been a specified unit of time since he gave me his key back and walked out of my house. A specified unit of time since I last saw him or spoke to him. Damnit, I was doing so well, and now it's hard again.

On the bright side, when my brother got into town, my mom gave him a package of farm cookies and instructions to deliver them to me right away. I think she wanted to get him to see me first thing so I could tell him the news. I have to say, the sympathy cookies taste very good. Farm cookies are in my top three cookie varieties, and I've never seen nor heard of them outside of the context of my family. They're like oatmeal cookies, except I guess the gal who created the recipe ran out of oatmeal, so she added cornflakes and coconut too. Mmm... Baked good aren't everything, but they help.

Road Trip!

"We have a couch and a couchbed you and your brother could sleep on, too."
-Camii

Last May, Camii and I met up in Denver for a day of chatting and wandering around the mall. Well, over a year's gone by since then, and it feels like time to see each other in person again - especially since my brother's home for the next few weeks and agreeable to going with me. I can't be positive yet, since I don't know my work schedule, but it seems that July 9-11 would be a good time to hop in the car and drive for five hours to Camii-land.

Since I just finalized my bead order (a few weeks until the other gals decide what they want, but I figured the longer I have to play with it, the larger and more expensive it'll get), there shouldn't be much temptation to hit the bead shop there. Okay, right, I'm probably lying. But, it sounds good, doesn't it?

Homesickness, Teddy Bears, and the Post-Keith Rebellion

"Well I'll never be a stranger and I'll never be alone
Whenever were together, that's my home."
-Billy Joel, "You're My Home"

Once the shock and anger wore off, I started having this feeling that I couldn't quite pin down. Then the other night I sat in my living room, watching TV and feeling this feeling, and suddenly I had a thought of "I want to go home." Silly, though, I was home. Then I figured it out.

Another weird thing that's happened is the teddy bear. When Keith and I first started dating, he had this teddy bear on his computer that an ex-girlfriend had given him. He said he wasn't attached to it, but just hadn't thrown it away. At that point, I made it my mission to claim the bear (i.e. "beat" the other girl by owning this thing she gave to him). Since then, the bear has been something I could grab as a stand-in of sorts for Keith. Now, even though we've split, the bear is still nice to have. The Keith connotation has faded, but the positive associations of the stuffed animal have stayed. So, when I've been feeling depressed/lonely the past few days, I've been hanging on to that bear and it makes me feel better. Kinda funny, isn't it?

On the bright side, it seems the worst has passed. I'm no longer a wreck. I've gone from being constantly sad to bitchy. My tolerance levels are incredibly low right now, but I'm okay with that. I'll take irritable over heartbroken any day. I mean, progress is progress, right?

As part of my progress, I find myself having a mini-rebellion against the habits I developed from being with Keith. For instance: I bought a pizza on Saturday and on the way I thought of what I should get on it. My first impulse was sausage, bell pepper, and mushrooms, which were about the only toppings Keith and I could agree on, and thus the kind of pizza we always got together. Then I caught myself and ordered a pineapple and canadian bacon pizza instead (he couldn't stand the idea of pineapple on pizza). Along these same lines, I'm thinking of cutting my hair even shorter and getting a dog. Not having Keith any more means there are many things I miss, but the flip-side is all the extra freedom I get from not having to compromise.

I find that as the hurting starts to wear off, I'm getting more and more excited about the freedom. Clear the polymer clay mess off the kitchen table to make room for another person? Bah!

Attack of the Scary Beads - Variations

I bought the scary beads out of an impulse to try something different. The first time I showed them to my brother, he actually cringed (thus the name). I quite like the scary beads, though. Anyhow, here's another example of variations on a theme, though in this case it's more like variations on a bead. Aside from the scary beads, the first necklace has copper-tone spacers, glass, and seed beads. The other two have the same, except silver spacers instead of copper.

I Realize This Won't Help....

but!

I have to be very clear that Owen is okay with this arrangement. My son still retains the biggest crush on you. (I know that the unadorned love of a five year old whose love can be bought with the cheapest of plastic toys is not really what you're looking for...but as a mother I have to make his case for him....)

And I love you too.

Impact

"This morning if someone had asked if you're gone
I would've managed a smile and said we're still hanging on
But if they pressed me I could've honestly said I don't know
Oh but that was a phone call and a six pack ago"
-"A Sixpack Ago" by Steve Wariner

I'm a mess today. The shock has worn off and the impact of what happened is really starting to hit me. This time yesterday, I had a fiancee and a plan of how the rest of my life would go. Today, I've lost both.

There's a chance he might call, try to work things out, but it's not likely. He said he'd made up his mind and that his doubts were strong enough to make him go and never come back. So, now I have to make peace with that. Somehow.

You know how they have these video clips of glaciers where all of a sudden a huge sheet of ice drops off the face of it and crashes into the water? Yeah, it's like that.

Betcha Didn't See This One Coming

I sure as hell didn't. Well, ladies and gents, come October Keith and I will not be getting married. This is because, as of about an hour ago, we have broken up. I'm taking it kinda hard. The worst part is, there isn't even a specific thing I can point to and say "that's why." The past few weeks we've been a bit distant from each other (I said wedding stress, he didn't agree and we got no further than that) and Keith said that was a big enough reason to think it won't work out. There's more to it than that, there always is, but that's as much as I'm ready to say about it right now. I'm feeling blindsided and I'm probably in shock.

So now, after nearly four years of automatically assuming I'll see or talk to Keith the next day, I won't.

Play the Hallelujah Music

"Alright, I think it's done."
-My Email to Katherine

It's hard to believe, but I think the 2005-2006 SI anthology is ready to be sent to the printer. This anthology, which I've been editing, transcribing, re-transcribing, editing again, formatting, and compiling for what seems my whole life, may be finally ready to send off. Whew. Now I just have to hope the computer doesn't crash and wipe everything all of a sudden, again. *Crosses fingers, toes, and eyes*