Tag Archives: Writing

Literary Impressions

Wow. It’s really is beautiful outside, even though the temperature is 91 degrees. The humidity, however, doesn’t seem to be all that horrible. That’s what gets me, and many many others; the humidity. When my hands start to hurt is the time I complain about the weather. When they don’t hurt, I’m fine. In fact, I’ll share a little secret with you, that’s the subject of my next tattoo.

“Sometimes I think it’s a shame when I’m feeling better when I’m feeling no pain.”

It’s a line from “Sundown” by Gordon Lightfoot; yes the guy who sings “The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald.”

It’s been a long and difficult time deciding on my next tattoo, of which I will be getting at our local tattoo parlor, Homeward Bound.

Some of my other tattoos are just tattoos. I will continue to get the tattoos that mean something to me. The Firebird was the one that meant the most to me, an honor tattoo for my niece who was killed a car crash 4 1/2 years ago, but this new one is more personal. It will remind me of me, of the things I have gone through, medically speaking, and how it has lead me to where I am now.

It also has a literary reference which I will share with you.

Hunter S. Thompson is one of my favorite authors. I contemplated getting a tattoo of one of his quotes, but it seems that every HST fan has one. I like to be different. After his death, many magazines reprinted interviews with him or articles that he had recently written.

One such article in Rolling Stone, a frequent employer of the writer, ran an interview in which HST was talking about his own health issues. He mentioned a line to a song, that song-which at the time I couldn’t place, but it sounded familiar.

It was 6 am. I was driving to work, shifting in my seat, trying to take the pressure off my back so I could at least drive to work before the pain became too severe for me to carry out the day. It was then that I heard the song on the radio and realized the connection.

A favorite song of mine in the past, I cursed myself for not recognizing it sooner. But there it was, and there it will forever stay in my mind.

On the days I have pain, I don’t think of this song. It’s not until the pain subsides is when it creeps in, reminding me of how true it is.

HST had constant pain even through multiple surgeries. His pain never alleviated. Mine subsided, though other things have crept up since my back surgery. I won’t bore you with that history, but just to say, I feel better when I feel no pain.

What a shame.


Sunrise over Lake Michigan, a sight I used to see coming home…

I really would get a lot of things done if I didn’t need sleep.

Take this morning, for example. I was forced to get up early (3:45 am) to take a friend to the airport- ok, so I insisted, but we were still forced due to the plane reservation. I left the airport around 6 am and drove along the lake for a while (Lake Michigan for those of you who don’t know where the Milwaukee Airport is…) and I watched the sun rise over the massive lake, hidden behind clouds, enjoying the fact there was NO ONE on the road. I drove around, looking at the houses and actually feeling inspired to write.

I decided to stay in the area because I have a baby shower to attend at 11 am just a few blocks away, but in order to do so I needed to find Coffee. 6 am is a little early for shops to open on a Sunday, but I found one that opened at 7, so I sat outside for a while to wait. What a cool place to be, downtown Milwaukee. Ok, so I’m not in Downtown proper, but the Alterra shop is near the new lofts in the Third Ward. And the weather is beautiful yet, that nice cool breeze before the sun fully emerges and the warmth of the afternoon starts to bake us to the asphalt.

So, I have my coffee. I even have some food to eat, which I am munching on slowly, albeit faithfully. And I am trying to write, but I keep nodding. Not falling asleep, exactly, but drooping. I look at the clock and think that I can fit a little car nap in before the party, but I am not one who wakes up well from naps. I’m better off trudging through the pain of being awake. Mind you, I am tired. I’m going to be going to bed at 3 in the afternoon and not waking up until I have to go to work tomorrow. Really, I will. No, I won’t. Yes, I will. Oh shut up, you will not.

I talk to myself, rather argue with myself, when I am exhausted, which is actually quite often.

What was I saying?

Oh yeah, productive if I didn’t need sleep. It’s not that I hate mornings, I just hate having to be awake. Period. I like mornings fine, just as much as I like the night time, but having to wake up at all just really pisses me off. Doesn’t matter if I wake up in the afternoon or evening, I would be awake and I would hate that fact. But being awake is different, tho, I suppose, than waking up. It’s the “waking up” part of being awake that I really really hate.

The time ticks on, shortening my chance for a little car nap. Should I or shouldn’t I? I keep thinking I can do it, I can stay awake until I get home. I bribe myself with the promise of a future nap, but I am very skeptical of my promises. I have promised myself many things in the past and have rarely followed through.

Have you ever been so tired that your cells start to shake? My hands don’t shake, per se, but rather the cells that make up the muscles and skin shake. My arms too. Sometimes my legs will, too, just shake like they are trying to keep themselves awake by, well, shaking.

But just think- if I wasn’t so tired right now, I would be getting a lot of writing done. I have the time, I have the laptop, I have the coffee shop, I just don’t have me! I am not here. I am half asleep and will stay that way until I fall totally asleep. I did manage to write down some ideas, some notes, but as for actual work, real worthy work on the novels, bah. It’s not going to happen. I’m better off ranting on a blog than really writing anything of worth or value.

Or Tweeting. Or playing on Facebook. Or checking my email.

No one else is up at this hour.

I wouldn’t be either, which is unfortunate. It really is too bad that I need so much sleep. I could have gotten a lot of writing done and be that much closer to actually being done………..

55 degrees and cloudy in June

I am NOT complaining about the weather, but I will complain about the air conditioning. Yesterday it was in the 90s and the air at work was on full blast. I started to shiver.

I would have been warmer in winter.

Today is nice, tho. It’s rainy and dreary and, well, let’s face it, perfect for me. Doom and gloom, that’s me! And loving every minute of it. I love being wrapped up in my comfy sweater, but I’m at the coffee shop, not at work. I can relax and be comfortable here. At the library, I need to be on my feet when a patron calls, which means I am constantly on my feet-and, no, I wasn’t able to warm up with all the moving around.

I don’t like having to go out into 90 degree weather just to warm up. Things should be regulated! So, yes! I am complaining about the artificial weather!

But the coffee is warm, and the rain is outside. I just wish I was able to stay in bed yesterday when the thunder started booming. It’s like plugging in for me, recharging. Lightning energizes the air I breathe. I am transformed.

So what will I write about today? I will write about the fact that I love Thursdays. I especially love gloomy Thursdays. Never mind that I have to make my appointments with doctors and specialists on Thursdays, it’s MY day. It’s my day away from everyone, and everything. Besides the few hours I have to give someone else for my own benefit, I can do what I want. I can sleep in, I can go to the coffee shop and write. I don’t have to wish for rain on Thursdays. Every Thursday, it rains just for me. (See previous post…)

Last week when I was on vacation, I realized how much Thursdays mean to me. I wasn’t able to have MY Thursday. Mind you, I felt like leaving Craig at the camper and just hang out at the coffee shop to write, but I didn’t. And as much as I love hanging out with Craig, it just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t really Thursday to me. I’m sure if I asked him if I could go and have my Thursday, he wouldn’t have minded-too much. But I chose not to. Now I know, that I have to. I have to take my Thursdays. Like the lightning, it refreshes me, recharges me, rejuvenates me. I feel more like myself, the self I have to oppress at the library. I’m still amazed at how one does that. I don’t do that very well. My mouth always gets me into trouble!

Here I can be mouthy and I don’t give a crap at what anyone thinks about it. And you know what? I like being mouthy. As a kid I was so painfully shy that it really was, physically painful. I couldn’t open my mouth. Up until just a few years ago I shook if I had to speak in public. Now, I shake a little, but not as much. I can usually rely on my mouth to get a laugh out of someone, and that makes me happy like you wouldn’t believe. If I can’t make someone laugh, or at least smile, I know I’ve fucked up.

I suppose that’s why writing is important to me as well. I can write down what my mouth would like to say but can’t. So I blog it. And if you like it, awesome. And if you don’t, suck it, bitches!

Wishing for Rain on Vacation:

I love Door County. If I can’t live here, I want to at least visit it as often as I possibly can.

We’ve fixed up a small camper to the point where it’s nicer than my house and I don’t want to leave. It’s comfortable, all the pleasures of home while still being able to move it to where ever we want to go. To me, that’s living! I love to travel. I’d go anywhere, except maybe the Middle East, right now. I want to go to Prague in the most horrible way. But I don’t think we can pull the camper there.

Door County is a nice destination for our maiden voyage. We already know our way around and even have some friends to visit, if we can pull ourselves away from the camper. I tell you, it’s nice. The bed is comfortable, the space is limited, but it’s close by. Craig even put in a little chemical toilet and it’s been ok. A little weird at first, but once you get used to it… we’re still close enough to the facilities that showers are just a walk away. Oh, and did I mention that we are totally alone here? Everyone we talk to gave their concern about finding a camping spot, but I wan convinced that it would be fine. Turns out, we are the only campers here, besides a few in the big rigs at the Seasonal spots across the grounds. We have the run of the place. We even joked about picking a new site every night, or sitting at a different picnic table or use a different fire pit. We’ve been at places where there were just a few campers before, but never being the only ones!! I could really get used to this!! I know, I know… It will never happen again!

I wanted to do some writing as well up here, but the weather has been so nice, that I haven’t had much of an opportunity. And when I did have time, we were watching movies on the laptop, so that didn’t work either. How often does one wish for rain while on vacation?

But I don’t know what to write anyway. I’ve been thinking of the Engine Driver, but I’m at an impasse: I’m standing on one side and the characters are on the other side, staring at me, waiting to see what I’ll do next. I’m kind of standing there too! Staring at me, waiting, wondering what I’ll do next. It would be nice to know, but I promise, they will be the first ones to know when I get there.

I’ve been trying to read, too, while on vacation. It’s hard. I often just stare out into the picture before me: at the beach, water lapping the rocks or the sand, the gulls crying overhead, the wind gently blowing through the rushes, or just the sun warm on my face. I could sit and do nothing for hours. I want to type, but then I’d miss what’s not going on around me. I’d be lost in a different world rather than being lost in the world where I drove many miles to get to. I’d miss the forest walks with the ground blanketed in forget-me-nots and fresh ferns.

I’m lost between worlds. I want to be in both at once, at the same time. I guess I’ll just have to move up here so I can get saturated in one world, sending me in peace to the other. Ugh, I’d still have to get a job, though, wouldn’t I? I guess my best hope is to just wish for rain.

Two sides to everything…

So, I think by now you’ve gathered that this is indeed my writing site, my dark and mournful side- without it, I’d have nothing to write about! But there is another side to me. No really! There is! I can write light, happy, even funny posts now and again. For example, Patch.com for Port Washington/Saukville, Wisconsin, has allowed me to be a blogger for the site. I’m not sure where to find it, exactly, being that it just launched yesterday, but I’m there! And because I am connected with the Port Washington Library, they have agreed that I can write on all things books, movies, music and the community. Oh Joy!! I love talking, and now writing, about this stuff. It’s what I do! So check me out there if you’re the least bit curious about my lighter writing side. I hope you’ll be impressed. I know my mom will!! 😉
“A Royal Wedding in Wisconsin”

Honey is going to laugh his a$$ off at me…

…writing at the bar instead of the usual coffee shop…

He doesn’t like bars. He doesn’t like the noise, the rowdiness, the smoke… it’s quiet in here, just a few people populate, and there’s a no-smoking ban in Wisconsin for bars and restaurants. For a bar, it’s nice in here. And they have beer, which is always a plus, right?It’s a little chilly in here; January in Wisconsin always leaves for cold air, inside and out. I would rather have a warm beverage, but beer will do in a pinch. Usually when I type my fingers get really cold, but today I stay warm. It’s the rest of me that’s a bit chilled. I’m looking forward to my huge burger these guys churn out, greasy but not repelling, fresh, not frozen patties, crispy buns, no floppy buns here! They are still practicing their menu, hence the trials of mozzarella sticks wrapped in wontons that is going on up at the bar. The swearing reminds me that I am still in a bar and not a coffee shop, though when I look down at my computer, I could be on Mars for all I am aware of. And I am really enjoying my beer.

I’m not much of a wine girl. I like sweet wines, dessert wines, not the hoity-toity wines served at restaurants, the wines they think I should be drinking. Oh kill me, but I love Arbor Mist. Plum Loco, made by Door County Winery, is our present favorite. Rieslings, anything sweet and fruity will you find in our house. I am a beer person. I love the deep reds, the pale ales and the hearty, chewy beers of independent brewers and home-brewers. Note: I will reject your piss water. That is not beer, it is filtered water from the sewage plant. My beer of choice is Smithwicks, but this bar doesn’t serve it anymore. No one around here, apparently, knows of it. Hicks. I first tried it in Ireland, and have been depressed that it was not on the list of imports for ten years until they finally lifted the ban. I can now find it at the gas station. Oh joy. My second choice is any of the local Wisconsin brews, Fat Tire in particular. It’s pale, yet colorful and the taste has spark and is quite satisfying as a beverage. In other words, it has flavor!

To sum up, if this place was warmer than it is, I’d hang out here and write. Good food and beer, what else is there?

The Firehouse, Waubeka, WI.

I hate the DMV

The directions to the emissions testing were terrible and it didn’t help that I read them wrong. A little over a quarter tank of gas later, I find the stupid the place. And it’s a good thing I found it when I did because I was seriously about to kill someone. I even it said it out-loud, I’m about to kill someone. And then low and behold, just as I thought about giving up and going home, it was there. I was out within 15 minutes, fast efficient, and fairly polite. I was still on edge. The experience of trying to find the place left me shaking. A man who believed in karma would say that is what happens when one waits until later than the last minute to do this. I say, fuck you.

Coffee. I needed coffee. There was a Starbucks down the road, I knew exactly how to get there, but it is cold and uncomfortable. I didn’t want to go there. I remembered a coffee shop somewhere downtown, near the Habitat Re-Store, but where exactly I wasn’t sure. I decided to press my directional luck and try to find it. But when I was far past the spot where I ought to have been paying close attention, I pulled over and reevaluated my situation: do I double back and try again, or do I just go home? The urge for coffee won out and sure enough, I found it on the second passing. As I readied to turn into their parking lot, I was stopped by the Exit Only sign. Pulling over once again, I figured, what’s one more block in my journey?

With the weird guy standing in front of the tattoo parlor looking on, I pulled back out in to traffic and made my way around to the other side of the block. I found a spot neatly near the door and carted my stuff in, stopping in dismay before the door. They were to close in 45 minutes. Damn it. Though I can produce some good work in 45 minutes, my joy in life to sit in a coffee shop for hours on end. I love the sounds and smells the shops have to offer, the whirring, the clinking, the frrrrruuuuspt spewing forth producing warm and comforting smells, ah, I loved it.

I stepped into the little shop, finding I was completely alone, no one in the dinning room, and no one behind the counter. I suppose being that no one was here and that it was close to closing could be the explanation in the lax of service. Again, I asked myself, do I leave? Coffee, again, won me over. I ordered my usual Skim Latte and threw in a white and choco muffin, even though I had just eaten. I sat down and pulled out the lap top. It was warm in the seating area, but I was still shaking. The girl made her usual barista noises behind the counter as I tried to relax. She was kind enough to bring me my coffee and muffin.

Oh, my, the coffee was bad. It tasted like, ug, crap! I wrapped my hands around the cup, at least trying to absorb the warmth, but even the smell put me off. The muffin, however, was a redeemer of my day with it’s cream cheese top with choco chips and amoretto flavored choco cupcake/muffiness. Food saves the day again! I doubt I’ll be back here, given the early close, the bad coffee, bad music and the auntie’s parlor decor with the white lace and painted plates. It just wasn’t my kind of shop. I appreciate it anyway, and after a few minutes of furious typing, I relaxed. I even smiled at the words flowing forth from fingers. I relished in the fact that finally, something in my day was going right.

And then I lost my writing. My wonderful blog entry that I really enjoyed, prided myself in, and hoped that the few people who read this will really also enjoy it. Gone. All Gone. And so my day goes right back into the crapper. I hate losing my writings. Hate, hate, hate it.  Again, I was about to kill someone. I tried rewriting it, but the organic-ness of the piece was lost and the whole ordeal was too upsetting for me to try to duplicate. So I left ten minutes early.

As I was driving home, I was thinking of dinner. In my little town of Waubeka, we have a new restaurant which serves really good burgers, The Firehouse. I thought about stopping there later for dinner. Then the thought crossed my mind, I could go there now and grab a beer! Ha. Hm. That’s an idea….

And so I am here, enjoying my pint of Fat Tire, rewriting the blog entry with the amended ending. Perhaps this is what the piece needed in the first place. But don’t start saying that everything happens for a reason, because I really don’t buy into that shit. Things happen. Period. I suppose if I wasn’t already annoyed with the whole DMV fiasco, I wouldn’t have been that upset about losing the entry. But here it is, for the most part, a little longer than before, more for your buck, and possibly a much better ending.

Being here does take me back to college, when my roommate and I would take our homework to the coffee shop. One night, though, it was so full we couldn’t get a table. We ended up a few blocks away at the bar, drinking beer and getting A’s on our homework. Ah, the power of beer. I may have to make this place my new coffee house.

THE BAKERS NECKLACE Cupcake Muffin Pan and by LuxeAdornments

THE BAKERS NECKLACE Cupcake Muffin Pan and by LuxeAdornments.

Honey says I’m food obsessed. I have to agree. I love the little food icons made of polymer clay in shapes of cupcakes, cheeseburgers, and what ever else foodie they have come up with now. This item, shown in link above, really takes the cake, or rather,  cupcake. Or rather, muffin.

I’d get a foodie tattoo if I could. Hey, I’m an adult, so legally I can! Honey will tease me. A lot. Can I live with that? Maybe a necklace or some cupcake earrings are more my patience. Too much teasing and I may have to kill him.

So I have already admitted I’m food obsessed, see first blog post. I even write my characters enjoying their meals. I detail what they make, what they favor and what smells good on the air coming from the kitchen. Even hot coffee makes the scene. Mmm, everyone loves coffee, right? But how many people love rice meatballs, simmered in chunky tomato sauce with a side of buttery mashed potatoes? I do, and so does Molly, featured in Idlewilde. Molly is a closet foodie with a boyfriend who cooks for her. She orders pizza. Tam roasts chickens. She loves his food, perhaps her way of saying that she loves him. But I’ll never tell.

I love food…

Perhaps too much. I love food so much I’m going to write about it. I’m also going to write about writing, reading, library happenings, cats, gardening, maybe some painting and a whole lot of words on just anything that comes to mind.