#144: Go somewhere I’ve never been (Pine Island)
Most of this article has been moved here, where I get paid per reader (hint hint).
I have enjoyed clambering on river rocks in ankle-length skirts since I was ten years old (there are photos of that somewhere). There’s something about it that’s just scary enough to be enjoyable and adventurous without actually risking major physical damage. And, it’s pretty.
It was scarier than usual today, because I’d had a panic attack in the morning, which meant I was still rather shaky and unco. As a result, I wasn’t quite as graceful as I’d like.
On the up side, since J-Lo’s posterior is meant to be her best feature, I reckon I’ll be at least five times as popular once this photo appears. (Or maybe ten times as popular, to be perfectly honest).
I did manage to recover some daintiness on the way back, and (once back on shore) felt far mightier than when I set out.
Play along at home: Climb on or over something you probably shouldn’t (based on my experiences as a child breaking walls, shelves, and so on – test the strength of the climbable objects first).
Tomorrow: Poetry reading (as suggested by reader W).
One-Legged Lady
Using my patented stand-on-one-leg method of weighing myself, I was able to clock in at 80.2 today. There’s a tiny chance I’ll be able to eat chocolate tomorrow, but Thursday’s a fairly good bet. I feel good enough about myself to post a rather unflattering photo on http://twittertales.wordpress.com later today.
If I don’t hear from the “Farting My ABCs” publisher by Thursday, I’ll call them then. It’s possible I misunderstood – they said something like, “According to our records, that reply should have happened ages ago.” I interpreted that as, “Your rejection was lost in transit” but it may have been, “Why yes we ARE taking forever – we’ll get right on to that.” So maybe there’s hope after all.
My main blog (this is not it) is doing remarkably well. Since I began the program of Daily Awesomeness, the average population of readers multiplied about ten times. Last week it doubled again, and today I was put on a blogroll at http://www.yesandyes.org/. It’s extremely therapautic to have something to do for myself and my career while waiting for the publishers to reply.
Best of all, the long weekend is over. AND school holidays (when I sometimes earn nothing for a fortnight).
. . . Monday Morning
I hate public holidays. No mail. (For a while this morning I felt quite good, because a new week had begun and publishers would be back at work. And then I remembered it’s a public holiday. Oh, foccacia.) Plus I generally lose income, because I work casually (or I have to work, like today, which is silly too). Those who read http://twittertales.wordpress.com will know I crashed especially badly last Friday. It felt very chemical (rather than “I am legitimately sad”) even at the time, so it’s probably to do with switching contraceptives. I’ll keep an eye out at this time next month.
Today I weigh 80.7. The weight loss has slowed to an agonising crawl (which is also how I’m currently moving around, since I’m feeling hungry again) but at least it’s going SOMEWHERE. Each day I expect a nice surprise (because I’ve earned it) but it hasn’t happened yet. When I do get under 80, I’m going to the lollyshop in Gungahlin – the one near Cockington Green.
On the up side, yesterday I put my cat in a fish tank. For those too lazy to click over to http://twittertales.wordpress.com, here’s all the pictures I took:
That may just have been the best two minutes I ever spent.
#134: Play with a cat
‘Nuff said.
I spent about half an hour looking at this photo and giggling, and I giggle again every time I look at it. No cats (or fish, or glass items) were harmed in the making of this picture.
Play along at home: Find a pet (or, in a pinch, a small child) and amuse yourself at their (safe and harmless) expense. Remember to choose wisely, kemosabe, or you will die of blood loss at a pair of angry claws.
Coming soon:
#138: Poetry reading (thanks to reader W).
#144: Go somewhere I’ve never been (Pine Island).
#89: Edit a friend’s novel (hello to the friend – you know who you are).
#45: Take St John’s Wort (has calming properties).
#132: Try, try again.
#3: Go crazy in a lolly shop.
#118: Make a collage.
S#63/7: Cello and Piano performance
Wow! Number 63 (Experience something new every day for a week) took a lot longer than a week.
Today I returned to ABC’s Sunday Live for the last time this year (next month it’s in Melbourne). Myself and CJ and another friend watched Cellist David Pereira perform with Timothy Young on piano. (They also had a minion to turn pages.)
Everyone knows wooden instruments are the biz. My husband and I plan to become billionaires and have a lair featuring a baby grand that rises up from the floor at the press of a button (and of course someone standing by to tune it each time). We were originally going to have a full grand, but decided not to be ostentatious.
The inside of the piano lid (we’re back in reality now) was so well-shone we could watch Timothy Young’s performance mirrored inside.
But the cello was the most beautiful thing on stage, made of a dark wood (oak?) with darker tracings. It’s Italian, made by Guidantus in 1730. Just being in the room with it was worth the trip.
They played three pieces – “Jungle Fever” (which had a chase scene), “Lullaby for Yvana” (David’s daughter – he wrote it) and a Sonata by the greatest emo pop artist of the early 1900s, Sergei Rachmaninov. During the sonata you could pick the good bits, because either Young clenched his jaw furiously, or Pereira grinned (depending on the type of good bit).
Thanks for the messages of support yesterday. As expected, I feel pretty okay once again.
Tomorrow: Play with a cat (warning: choose your cat wisely).
S#63/6: Live Music at an Irish Pub
Today was an out-and-out awesome fail. The pub itself (King O’Malley’s in Civic, Canberra, Australia) is awesome (I even wrote about it here). CJ was awesome, smiling tolerantly as I fished ice cubes out of my Baileys and spat them into someone’s discarded Guiness (because no-one, NO-ONE, dilutes my Baileys). There were fire twirlers outside, and a random person complimented me on my boots through a loudspeaker poked out the window of their car (and why not?) That was all pretty awesome, but I was not.
No-one can sustain awesomeness forever. (Okay, some people can. I hope they get eaten by iguanas.) I have an anxiety disorder, and every so often I freak out for no reason and all the colour falls out of the sky and the air sours in my lungs and existence isn’t worth the souls it’s written on.
Today’s emotional crash was relatively rational, since a few bad things happened (the car had more stuff wrong with it, so it cost twice as much as expected; one of my books has a serious flaw that may involve rewriting huge chunks that I thought were finished; I’m dieting, so a chocolate binge is out despite how fat and angry I feel; my phone is out of credit four days earlier than it should be so I’m trying to go without until then; someone I know is suicidal but not considered sick enough to live in a place that will look after him).
Tomorrow will most likely be a good day. All the things that really matter are okay – CJ and I still like each other, my family is safe and happy, and we still have money in the bank.
But I feel awful. So today’s real awesomeness is to accept that emotions happen.
Play along at home: Eat too much (for me). Write the emoest emo poem ever. Hit something. Whine to a friend. Cancel your plans and watch TV instead. Do something ridiculously indulgent from Steff Metal’s list. Spend too much. Insult a cat/dog/fish with great cruelty. Swear. Exercise too much. Refuse to snap out of it until you feel like snapping out of it. Play depressing music. Cut off your hair. Go to sleep. Stay up late. Cut up your school/uni books into tiny pieces. Take photos of your toes. Leave your heater on all night. Chuck a sickie. Play with matches. Cry. Give it time. (I’ve done six of these, mostly in the last hour. Seven, if you count paragraph 2 as poetic.)
Today’s photo is of yours truly clutching my single glass of Baileys while sitting in the dark:
Tomorrow: Sunday Live – a cello performance. And most likely a better mood.
PS: Have decided the scratch on my leg from “Frolic in a Fountain” is probably shark bite.
PPS: Wrote the above entry last night. Feel worse this morning (apparently I gained a kilo this week, despite not eating chocolate. Epic angry fail). I still reckon tomorrow will be better, but today’s probably a write-off. Some days are. It’s 10:00am and I’m going back to bed until further notice. What are you doing today? Or not doing?
Friday Afternoon
It’s Friday afternoon, which means two things: excitement, and depression. The excitement is because I know that publishing execs have meetings to make the final decisions on whether to publish books or not, and it seems to me they’d have those meetings on Friday – and then call the authors they’d chosen to accept. The depression is because the weekend comes next, where there’s a guaranteed lack of answer for two days before the mail starts up again.
I’ve done very little writing the last few weeks, due to the Daily Awesomeness Plan (new obsessions take a lot of brain space that’s usually occupied by writing), being sick last week, and spending time exercising (half an hour every day). But I wrote for seven hours yesterday (finishing the first draft of next month’s twittertale – a post-apocalyptic tale inspired by a TV show I won’t mention by name because if I don’t mention it the spoilers won’t be noticed) and I’ve spent three hours writing so far today.
I’m perilously close to finishing my final solo edit of last year’s “National Novel Writing Month” book. One of my friends is already helping me edit it. After that I’ll most likely enlist a professional editor, then send the book to its first rejection. Oh! I mean its first possible-publisher. Excuse me.
I’m not sure what to think of the book’s chances. It has more of an action focus than my other books (generally people say I need more action) and the beginning and end are rather good (in my opinion) but the rest of the book can be summed up as, “Hero runs away a lot.” Still, it’s a plot that has worked for many others before me. Who knows? Maybe this is what readers want.
I am a little excited, I confess. It’s a new book, after all!
Maybe I’ll be twelth time lucky. Apparently people who write books sometimes do publish them.
#7: Look after your car (and twitter)
For today’s daily awesomeness, I got a full service for our car. That’s $400 BEFORE they find anything else wrong. So it’s a horrifying sort of awesomeness. But the constant nagging fear of, “I bet there’s something wrong with the car” is, for the moment, gone. Today’s service was particularly awesome because I lost control of the car on a turn last month, and it seemed likely that something somewhere would be damaged.
Play along at home: Fix something that, in your heart of hearts, you know needs attention.
Tomorrow S#63/6: Live Music at an Irish Pub (King O’Malley’s)
Hi to the staggering number of newbies this week. Each Friday, in addition to awesomeness, I post the current twitter story-so-far. This month it’s “Bridezilla”. If you want to follow it in real time, you can join it at either http://twitter.com/Louise_Curtis_ (manually add the second underline) or http://www.facebook.com/pages/Louise-Curtis-Books/287050773170?ref=nf.
“BRIDEZILLA” so far:
1.
It’s pay day, so I buy pillows. Luckily my wedding dress makes a good maternity dress. I hope this plan works. Tomorrow, here I come.
2.
I dress as a VERY expectant bride and go to the bakery store. As I order a huge pile of hot cross buns, I put one hand to my giant stomach.
*
“Oh you poor dear!” says the matronly type I’ve been observing for days. “Don’t bother paying for those buns.”
*
She winks, “And may I STRONGLY recommend entering our restaurant-dinner-for-two competition?”
I obey her while silently applauding my act.
3.
Today I’m a goth bride with heavy eye-makeup and blood-red feathers on my neckline. I mingle in the bar before Amanda Palmer’s concert.
*
Amanda comes out, hugs me, then takes in my full outfit. “Congrats,” she says – “And you’re NOT paying – or your fiancé, wherever he is.”
*
Being a goth bride rocks. It’s even better than yesterday’s pregnancy. I’ve never enjoyed a concert so much – or been given so much beer.
4.
I promised my daughter a huge pile of Easter eggs – but I also promised she could continue at her school. So I dress her as my flower girl.
*
Easter eggs: Check. Nausea: check. Chocolate smears on May’s face: check. Getting chocolate for a flower girl at Easter is almost too easy.
*
A shrill voice cuts through my pleasure – my ex-bridesmaid, Cherie. “Anna! Did Rob come back and marry you after all?”
“Uh. . . sure. Yep.”
5.
I’m embarrassed after lying to Cherie, so today I go for the dumped bride look. My mascara runs beautifully, and I get more hot cross buns.
*
As I’m lugging a garbage bag of buns to my car, one of the bakery girls comes and helps me. She says, “Wait a second, do I recognise you?”
*
I shake my head, but she says, “Yes! I saw you dumped on YouTube. . . but that was a month ago. What the. . .?”
I flee.
6.
Today I dress as a mum. An emotionally and financially stable mum. I try to arrange my stockings so the holes are hidden inside my shoes.
*
“We’ve been making allowances because of your. . . incident. . . a month ago. But we must have next term’s fee by the end of this month.”
*
After the meeting, I go give May a hug. Her teacher stops me and asks for my number.
“Oh no! What did May –”
“Nothing. I want to call YOU.”
7.
I eat hot cross buns, and ask my boss for a raise. Neither goes down well.
*
When May gets home, I interrogate her about her dark-haired, dark-eyed teacher.
She says, “He’s nice. I got to be the queen in story time.”
8.
I get the card for the free dinner for two at a real restaurant. Yay! Less than an hour later my landlord “drops by”. Uh-oh.
*
May’s teacher calls, and arranges to pick me up on Saturday. My heart’s fluttering so hard, I can’t eat my dinner (of hot cross buns).
9.
May dresses in her best dress for our dinner of Real Food. I wear a skirt. They greet us with champagne. “Where’s the other newlywed?”
*
“Uh. . . he had to work,” I say. They hustle us to our highly beflowered table and tell us to order anything we want. We do.
*
May gets them to make her a hamburger. I have a huge pile of meat and a giant salad. Neither of us eats our bread rolls.
10.
I re-use my pillows to make myself an overweight bride, and take May with me with only an hour to spare before Jack comes to fetch me.
*
We go to a child care centre. I ask, “Can you fit her in? The reception’s about to start and my normal babysitter quit. Today!”
*
“Of course we can,” the staff say, “and don’t you dare pay!”
My date is wonderful. Jack is good company and the food is DIVINE.
11.
I shave my eyebrows to become a more lucrative faux bride, and go shopping. I’m about to graciously accept free Docs when I see Jack!
*
Jack! Shopping as I scam! Disaster! I duck behind the nice lady’s desk, biting my nails in terror. Has he already seen me?
*
The lady gives a commentary on Jack’s passing. “The hot guy’s trying on sunglasses. . . now he’s going away. He’s gone!”
I flee the scene.
12.
My landlord says, “Pay your rent by Wednesday, or I’ll have you evicted.”
I flaunt my Doc Martens and say breezily, “No prob. See you then.”
13.
May and I spend the first day of her holidays sorting our possessions into “Sell” and “Keep”. I get $3 for four books.
*
We’ve tried ebay and twelve different friends, but oddly no-one will buy May’s lifesize poster of Edward Cullen. Go figure.
*
I eat lunch with Jack. He doesn’t mock my eyebrows, but says, “Can we have dinner Friday – with May?”
“YES! Er, that’d be nice.”
14.
I fake receiving an SMS break-up at the service station and get a free tank of petrol. Nice. My eyes are getting tired from fake crying.
*
May and I put everything we can’t live without into our car and go camping. I don’t think she believes it’s really a holiday.
*
We go swimming in the creek and May finally relaxes and starts to laugh. For dinner, we roast our hot cross buns over the fire.
15.
Pay day. I’d need three more to pay school fees, and there’s only one more this month. But I have a plan. Today we buy food – sort of.
*
Eggs for protein and zucchini for vegetable matter. Somehow, toasting zucchini isn’t the same as toasting marshmallows.
16.
For our dinner date with Jack we eat roast lamb with gravy and pumpkin and potatoes. May doesn’t eat the zucchini, and neither do I.
*
The night is perfect. It’s even kind of fun to pretend to go into our old house before sneaking around the corner to our car.
17.
I dress as a harassed bride and May hides behind a column while I claim a fictional honeymoon booking at a nice hotel – prepaid, of course.
*
May jumps on the bed while I boil eggs. She says, “This is your best idea ever!”
“Wait and see.”
She eats the minibar peanuts, grinning.
18.
I dress as a just-awoken newlywed and score free breakfast. Fortunately for May, they’re willing to deliver my “fiancé’s” meal to our room.
19.
May’s friend Sara calls to ask if May can sleep over next Friday.
I say, “Definitely. How about two nights?”
*
Jack calls and we talk for three hours. Mmm. . . school holidays. When the call ends, I can’t remember a single thing we talked about.
20.
Jack and I meet for lunch again. He admires my new Docs. I can’t tell if he’s messing with me or not, but he’s smiling. Is that bad?
21.
I go to a new shopping centre and run into Rob. (Did I mention my ex-fiancé is a cop?) “Are you going to give me my ring back?” he says.
*
I say, “Are you going to pay me for our reception?”
“We didn’t have one – why should I pay?”
“Because when you cancel on the day, you pay!”
*
“Give me the ring!” he says.
I say, “Give me the six thousand you owe me – and one seriously impressive apology.”
“Get lost!”
“You too!”
22.
I’m having lunch at the hotel when one of the staff asks why they haven’t seen my new husband all week. So much for being a newlywed.
*
My throat tightens. I feel my face flush with humiliation. The waitress blushes back at me and hurries away. Ah. Still a newlywed then!
23.
The hotel is too risky. May has one last jump on the bed, and we pack sadly.
I say, “Don’t worry. My big plan is for Saturday.”
*
I drop her at her friend’s house and prepare to spend my night in the park. All at once, I begin to hate ducks. Pompous freaks.
Foetal
I forgot to mention in the baby-related posts that it’s apparently okay to take zoloft (my anti-depressant of choice) while breastfeeding. That is FABULOUS news. I’m very fond of Zoloft, but I mostly like to take it during periods when life is especially exciting. Even just the knowledge that I’ll have that choice is very comforting.
I find it so hard to believe that publishers take so long to make their acquisitions decisions (even as I am the proof). Whenever I begin a new book, I can predict that I’ll spend at least a year editing, then have to wait six months to a year before I get a SINGLE response. So that blank page won’t pay me back for literally years (I wrote “Stormhunter” six years ago).
That’s horrifying.
It’s moments like these – when I appear to be on the brink of success – that I want to curl into the foetal position until somebody offers me a contract.
Of course, I also know that I’d starve before I got a reply.
In other news, here’s a rare picture of my two cats within a metre of each other. You can sense the ambiance rather clearly.
#95: aka SECRET NUMBER FOUR
#95 is “Give away money”. Is there anything more fun (well okay, probably spending it yourself, but that’s covered in SO many other posts)?
Pick an amount of money that you can live without, and give it away. You can give it to a charity, put it in a Salvos box, take a homeless person to Subway for lunch (or let them choose where to eat), drop it in a stranger’s mailbox (with an explanatory note), or find a uni student and give it to them. Or, if you’re lucky (by some definitions of the word) you have a pov family member.
My sister and brother-in-law are BOTH at uni, AND they’re pregnant, AND she’s my sister. So she was a pretty obvious choice. I called her last night to check it was okay to give her money and blog about it (it so abundantly was), and gave it to her today.
So now she looks a little like this:
Play along at home: $20 can really make someone’s day – and let them do one of the semi-expensive items of awesomeness, should they so choose.
Tomorrow: Fix the car.
Felicity Banks 