4:34 p.m. - 2008-06-05
Secretly seething
The editor who acquired my books bought three of another sci-fi series (announced on publisher's trade site today). She only bought two (of three) from me. Irrational jets of rage spurt from my otherwise calm demeanor. Competitive writing brings out the dragon in me. Spewing fire now and grinding teeth and claws. Is she a better writer? More commercial? Prettier? Smarter? More of a suck-up? Better agent? Better idea? Less weird? Less chaotic? I get perversely weird and as much as I feign empathy and camaraderie with other writers, I secretly wish they would all fall into a pit of snakes and die a lingering death from venom induced sepsis. Those writers and their stupid ideas. I am the best! ME ME ME!

Phew-calm down, girl. Get your head on straight.

Still too swamped with work commitments and the house to do anything more than stagger through the day but there will be peace after June. My daughter goes away for two weeks next month, which means quiet and calm, but also a lack of her sunny energy.

DH and I may actually get to take an overnight away and have a mini-honeymoon. Amazing.

The nice thing about being so busy is that I am thinking about things outside myself, and not being consumed by neuroses about imaginary terrors.

9:56 a.m. - 2008-05-30
all the dish
Oi, where to begin! Yes, the wedding was truly splendid and lovely. The weather turned just in time and graced us with a mild, sunny day- the beautiful jacaranda were in bloom everywhere. The limo showed up on time and was sparkly and white and fun. The cake arrived on time, an orgy of white-sugar goodness. Guests were gleeful and snapped photos like a phalanx of paparazzi. My beautiful friend led me through a wonderful pre-ceremony meditation and married us in high style. DH was positively beaming! My heart did pound, but DH held my hands and gaze the whole time, and we laughed and giggled in our usual silly way. We said our vows, shared our single glass of wine and exchanged blings, then it was done.

Reception went off without a hitch. We had just the right number of chairs and guests, the food was devoured, the cake oohed over, the champagne toasted, splashed and sipped and yes, we danced in the clean and newly painted butter-yellow living room, between the food tables.

Everyone was happy. DH and I are happy, content. Our kids are happy. My faraway friends all cried over the photo slideshow we sent.

I would love to post some pics for you all but as this is my own private venture, and not my family's, I cannot share. Trust that the roses were really red and full, the dress lovely, the groom handsome, the family delightful.

So now I'm a married lady. Strange to think that a ritual and party suddenly confer respectability and value to our lives, as if they had none before. Even though DH has been in my life for 16 years, suddenly the old guard of senior aunties and so forth embrace him as a family member, where I suppose he was just some interloper before. But I won't get annoyed, that's the way they are.

We had an exhausting week of parties and events and everyone has been sick in one organ or another, stomach bugs, colds etc. We muddle through. Must get packing and get out of our apartment in two short weeks. It's all a blur.

I am looking forward to fall, when it will be quieter and I can concentrate on writing. I know, shouldn't always be looking ahead. I am in the moment, I am, but also want to get back to the books.

This week I've been carrying a dreadful sense of foreboding. I'm watching things around me change, change for everyone, bit by bit, and wonder if we are at the end of our very brief way of life, we well-off Americans (for even those of us who struggle have homes and plenty of food and water, hospitals, schools, computers, tv, movies, concerts, lazy 3-day weekend, oodles of leisure time, iphones, ennui etc.). The gas prices rise, the stores close, the forecast is grim and clouds of doom gather on the horizon. I try to decipher how much of this is media scare-tactic and how much is real. I look back through history and doubt that anyone society in the past 500 years or longer managed to sustain a single way/quality of life for an entire generation. Consider the turmoil seen in our grandparents/great-grandparents generation, the wars and deprivations, industrialization, the women's rights and civil rights movements. Things have always been the same for me, I've been well-fed and comfortable my whole life.

So there's bit of worry, a bit of wondering. What can I do?

Try to put it out of my head, do my small part, hope that the end will not be long, gory and dreadful.

Of course, the agent came, taller and more glamorous than I imagine. She has a dark and wintry voice but is light and sunny in person. She gave us a pricey gift, and my boss gave us a check for 2K! Yes, I know, wotta shocker! Which is funny because a number of my family members didn't even give us a 99 cent Hallmark card. Why are strangers more generous than my family? But we did get quite a few nice things to start us off in our new house. I suppose people assume that we don't need new towels and dishes and pots & pans because we already have those things.

Anyway, it was really a fantastic weekend. And last Friday I saw the Cult in concert. A tepid show, for them. Ian admitted to being sick, even wiping his nose on stage. I felt sorry for him and wanted to rub his forehead, poor sweaty 50 year old English rocker baby.

So that is the state of things. Now I wish to curl up on the couch with a bottle of Bailey's or good red wine and watch Sweeney Todd.

For our future an dfar-off honeymoon, DH and I will go to some desert or wine-country resort, sit on a porch drinking wine and staring at the distant hills, sleep in, do nothing until we grow bored with nothingness and then go home.

11:36 a.m. - 2008-05-20
circular train tracks
Because I only got about 5 hours sleep last night, I'm a bit sandy-headed and loopy but also feeling over-the-moon happy about upcoming festivities. Decided it is better to focus on feeling happy and soaking up the love and congratulations that will surely flow from friends and family on Sunday than worrying about the many elaborate scenarios of panic and shame that flood my head. They include fainting, loss of bladder/bowel control, vomiting, uncontrolled sobbing, ringing in the ears, gushing menstrual blood and backing out of ceremony due to anxiety.

I dread the moment of walking into the chapel, the rustling of clothes and shifting of bodies as everyone turns to look at me, their eyes boring into me like drills. Standing at the front, my legs turned to licorice ropes, my heart thundering.

Also realized recently that I may have a little OCD tendency, as I think about the same things over and over, for hours or days. I return to the same subject/scab and pick and dig and scratch and scrape until every little bit of it is demolished and destroyed. Until I have exhausted all possibilities and reached the limit of the exercise's futility.

Now in addition to not asking "Why?" a hundred times, I must limit my over-thinking to a reasonable period of time.

I spent about 2/3 of my day yesterday coining clever quips and having imaginary discussions with my agent, and plotting how clever I will be when we meet.

Everything else coming along nicely. Very glad to have a 5 day vacation, even if I lose two days pay and have to eat beans and rice for the next week.

11:26 p.m. - 2008-05-18
naughty bits
I have a taco in my purse. I'm sure there's double-entendre there somewhere, especially as it's a fish taco.

12:51 p.m. - 2008-05-15
Hooray!
Finally got our house keys and closed the deal. So it's really and truly ours, that little place. Our realtor met us at the new house and gave us a bouquet of flowers and a Home Depot card. How nice!

Tomorrow we rip out carpets and have appliances delivered. Then the painting begins. I wish we had the sort of friends who would help us paint-a painting party with beer and pizza and loud tunes on the radio, everyone singing and cracking jokes-ok, that's an elaborate fantasy, but it seems so fun!

I had a little panic attack in the middle of the night a couple days ago. Sometimes when I get woken up, my body can't handle it. I felt funny, the nervousness building, tried to distract myself. Laid down and my heart was pounding. I acknowledged it, said "OK, your heart is pounding." Did my breathing, knew it would be over soon and just waited. Then I stopped thinking about it and it went away. Another step towards mastery.

We bought a fancy-schmancy new fridge and washer & dryer yesterday. We are like children, dazzled by cherry red appliances with chrome trimmings, digital displays and shiny knobs and buttons. They are like gleaming spaceships or robots, and make us run our hands along their gleaming surfaces and murmur "Ooohh, preetttyy." But we were sensible and stuck to our budget.

Now I'm compiling wedding songs and piling on the cheese. Tom Jones, Led Zeppelin, R&B standards, Lionel Richie (gag), Lou Rawls, Harry Belafonte, George Benson, Spandau Ballet, Michael Jackson, Gap Band, David Bowie, the Beatles and loads of goofy 50s, 60s and 80s songs. Peter Frampton. Alicia Keyes, Sarah Vaughn, Ella FItzgerald & Louis Armstrong-one of my absolute favorite albums.

I suppose we ought to have some Luther Vandross. Can't have a wedding without him. I'm not a fan, but he seems de rigeur, so...

I'm looking forward to getting back to work on my books, however. It was nice to have a vacation but I can't spend too long without working.

9:36 a.m. - 2008-05-12
a plague of helpers
Stagger into work, stuffy-headed, bleary-eyed after late-night of wedding invitation preparation. Only 2 weeks to go and already I'm regretting our decision to expand the wedding party beyond immediate family. Receiving emails like, are you inviting me and my seven children and 23 grandchildren and 4 great-grands? Don't forget your eight nieces and nephews and your 49 cousins from far-away, the whole time thinking PANIC! All these people will want to eat our precious, expensive food! I will have to order extra trays of chicken sate! Peanut butter and jelly for all! And relatives are bogarting my days and tromping over my plans with comments like "I'm only doing this for you. You should be more grateful that I've appointed myself ringleader of your event."

We have been forced into rehearsal dinners, caterers, florists and so forth.

I would also like to make clear that my not inviting someone is not an exclusion, simply a non-invite, but I'm afraid those subtleties will be lost in translation.

Costco will be my friend. I will buy industrial tubs of margarine and cheap white bread and Mexican citrus punch.

Spent all weekend at the new house cleaning. It was very relaxing to do manual labor. I raked, seeded the lawn, hauled lawn debris, scrubbed cabinets and drawers and sooty baseboards and moldings. We ate lunch on our patio and watched the various birds alight in the spindly tree on the slope. I listened to NPR all day Saturday and Sunday and caught all the shows I usually miss. Now I'm falling asleep at work. Must take daughter shopping tonight and get son's hair cut. Will be in bed by 10, promise.

While having a conversation about my wishes for wedding with helpful sister, I said I did not want to do all the things on her exhaustive list and did not want to ask other people to pay for things and be financially beholden. I did not want to consider anyone else's plans. My feelings will not be hurt if people do not attend my event. And she got irate and started this "I'm not going to argue with you!" trip. Whenever I express my wishes and they are contrary to hers, I get this sudden bristling of suppressed rage and wounding that is deeply an immediately exhausting. I do not want to consider other people's feelings ALL the TIME. Sometimes I'd prefer to be a selfish bastard. Who is arguing? Because when you say "I'm not arguing" that immediately turns the conversation into an argument and there you are.

Wondered again how I might be different without this sometimes oppressive influence in my life. Because my heart started pounding and I got angsty and thought, I was perfectly happy and calm until you inserted yourself. Please stop helping and leave me alone.

Phew. Haven't had any time to work on books. Just trying to keep stress levels down and get enough rest so that I don't get sick.

I suppose everyone goes through wedding trauma. But it's totally unnecessary. Just like Christmas when people work themselves into a frenzy trying to do too much which is ridiculous. Don't get this urgent need to heed the shoulds and expectations.

On the bright side, DH and I sprung for nicer rings, with a bit of bling and returned our dowdy, plain wedding bands.

I think I'll have to find a cheaper place to get the food.

9:27 a.m. - 2008-05-07
blinded by swag
Ugh. I hate the phone. I'd much rather live in an era of written messages only. Maybe I can feign deafness and only communicate by tablet and email. In school a few years ago we were reading Sei Shonagon, a Japanese courtier. It's full of snarky observations about her fellow courtiers and very dry and wicked. Anyway, in her day, it was very fashionable for people to call on their friends and if they were not in, to leave a very short poem as a calling card, something cryptic and obtuse, like "Snow falls, white leaves of ice, before the slumbering cherry blossom" which might mean "Dude, I thought we were going to hang out at the tea house today. You bailed! S'up?"

I would love to re-establish this custom. A more poetic version of texting perhaps. Hello by haiku.

I say I dislike the phone because the guy who runs the chapel where we are getting married...there's nothing wrong with him. I just don't like him. I'm very sensitive to people's energy, not in a weird New Age way, just in general. Once I dislike someone, I want to cut all contact and get as far away as possible. So I don't like this guy but I have to keep dealing with him and he's expecting a phone call and I can't fob it off on DH because he doesn't have time to deal with it. Blurgh.

Finally signed the papers on our house yesterday. Hooray! There was a moment of panic because the escrow agent had wrongly calculated our closing costs, showing an additional 5,000 due and that threw us into a panic. Quickly remedied and the correct amount was given, so that was a relief.

It really sucks to have a job with no vacation or sick days because I really need some time off! But can't afford it because I'm a wage slave with a great title. I can't wait to get through this year and the books and be able to start looking for something else.

I'm dying to invite my agent to the wedding but it seems a bit weird. Our therapist and real estate agent are coming so why not my agent? I'm insanely curious about her with her big, fantastic LA life. She is always traveling, vacationing, going to parties and weddings. I like to pretend that she is actually a needy, dumpy, desperate and pathetic middle-aged woman, not a sexy-voiced glamourpuss, a literary equivalent of a 60s Bond girl, because it makes me feel better. I'm also desperately curious about her other authors, the kind of relationship she has with them. Ooh, it's so weird. I'm glad I'm too busy to spend much time thinking about it.

I have a dress fitting with my lovely friend tomorrow and have spent the past two weeks envisioning scenarios of me screaming "Don't look at me!" because I am so revulsed by the idea of her seeing my flabby, hideous unclad body. Maybe there will be a screen I can change behind. Or a blindfold she can wear.

10:03 a.m. - 2008-05-05
out of it
So tired, I can't breathe today.
Stupidly stayed up till 1 a.m. trying to wade through the engrossing but interminable "There Will be Blood" and that crazy off-key dirge-like music twisted my nerves up into a ball.

Slight panic about closing on the house (now 5 days late) and not having enough time to clean/paint prep. We could have our reception at the ceremony site but I don't think there's enough time between our shindig and the next to accommodate us.

My sister has been promising to send me some money owed from my mother's estate for weeks-still don't have it. Major panic.

I need to just go home and go back to bed.

Too wrecked to focus today.

9:31 a.m. - 2008-05-02
the dawn of pragmatism
I am so looking forward to the day that I can quit working for anyone else and stay home to write. My computer died at work and I lost 95% of my work and data. Back-up? No we don't have any formal back-up programs or procedures. I was also made to announce my wedding at a lunch, even after I declined and said I'd rather not share my personal stuff with the entire office.

And so on...so this week I'm putting everything back together. Have gotten a nasty cold because I'm not sleeping enough.

Still haven't closed on the house. Yesterday DH took the night off and we went to a fancy Chinese place for dinner, then saw Iron Man (excellent) and went home for cake before we all passed out.

It was very nice and everyone was very cheerful and loving, and now I'm 38.

I think I much prefer to be busy like this with many details to manage and things to think about so that I don't spend my idle time musing on totally useless things, like celebrities or girls or what I'm going to wear to Comic-Con when I'm invited to attend and plug my books. Makes me feel like a grown-up, and it's much more sedate, dare I say dull, in my inner world these days. Because it's completely ridiculous and useless to spend all one's time immersed in idle fantasy, isn't it? Fun, maybe, but ultimately rather futile.

Won't miss working but I do love the routine, when I pull into my parking spot, gather my things, out on my shades and head up the elevator. Then I must settle at my desk, flip through my mail, open my packages and see what swag I've accumulated since yesterday, wake the computer and turn on my music. I read my personal email, my work email, assess the day's doings and then sip my tea while writing in D-land, reading entries or browsing the Internet. Around 10, I begin work for real.

It's such a nice little routine, boring, but the only repetition that doesn't irk me.

New dilemma: plan on moving to LA to study screenwriting and get into the movie industry or get an MFA or PhD in Creative Writing and pursue the professorial track?

3:28 p.m. - 2008-04-30
Guilty of Overdoing

And of overwriting, which I realized this weekend. If I can suck 50 pages from my novel without changing its essential qualities, then I have overwritten.,See? I knew there was a lesson in here somewhere, just had to wait for the red rage to drain from my eyes so I could see it properly.
This is like lipo for my book. Which presumes that it was a bit bloated and out of shape to begin with. The frumpy book has a mid-process crisis and goes on the Hollywood Diet.

Man, trying not to feel stressed but it is mounting a bit with the wedding details (license, cake, more ring viewing, invitations--couldn't sleep for thinking about them--dress alterations, guest list hassles etc.), my birthday tomorrow (an no plans at all), the books, the client, work and moving. Not bad stress, just a lot of details to manage.

Such as not wanting to invite my entire family and worrying about the snub effect if I do/don't invite certain relatives. I really don't want a packed church with my inappropriately dressed young cousin (who wore a micro-mini and Cleopatra eyeliner to my grandfather's funeral, offending the residual Southerner in me). I feel like I won't be able to breathe with everyone there. Don't really want them watching me, our private moment.
Everyone and his dog can come to the reception but the ceremony...

Anyway, this morning was pretty magical. We got to visit some dolphins up close during a photo shoot for work. LB was with me and he was able to feed them, pet them and teach them tricks. It was pretty amazing to be so close to them. They are so exuberant and responsive, really lovely. I love to hear them talk to each other with whistles, wheezes, grunts and clicks.

LB was so excited last night he couldn't sleep and had to wake up early this a.m. for the shoot so he is wrecked today, as am I. DH woke me at 4:30 and of course, I could not get back to sleep.

So much going on I don't even have time to process it all. Just want to take a couple days off to veg and watch movies. Did order pizza and watch Becoming Jane last night, which was gorgeous.

9:23 a.m. - 2008-04-26
booty padding
Can I just say again, Goddammit goddammit! Fucking hate slicing through pages upon pages of my book, ripping out entire paragraphs, passages and conversations. makes it feel like all the time and care that I lavished upon my work was totally wasted. WASTED I tell you! RRRAARRRGHHHH!!!

God, what is she thinking! She has asked me to sever the head and tear the spine from the body. Fuck. I can only surrender to this and pray that this is a really difficult and unpleasant learning experience which will better me and my writing in the end. I worry that next year when the book comes out, I won't even be able to enjoy it. People will congratulate me and I'll just snarl and bite their heads off and tell them to go fuck themselves because it's not my book-my book is lying dismembered in a graveyard.

ERGH. It's enough to turn me to drinking. last week went to a media event and got buzzed on one glass of wine. My immediate response was to think that I've got to start drinking again and build up my tolerance, but that's not good for me anymore. Like a lot of things, being drunk isn't as fun as it used to be.

Yesterday I took my daughter and her friends to the mall; they were very cute together. Sweet and funny and I enjoyed hanging out with them (surprisingly, my daughter was being nice to me and including me, though I was happy to give them space). I'm so pleased that my daughter and her friends are nice girls, with age-appropriate concerns. When I was her age, I was sneaking my dad's Playboys, reading Heavy Metal and National Lampoon and Erica Jong. My favorite book when I was about 14 was The World According to Garp, which I must've read 6 times. Freak.

Anyway, they have this very enticing booth in the mall that sells these hard-core girdles, padded booty panties, silicone butt pads and chicken cutlets for bra stuffing. I keep eyeing the butt enhancers, plus I'm generally fascinated by anything that hints at bondage, so I have this vision of myself at my wedding wearing a fake tush, which makes me laugh. Supposed to be dieting but it's not going very well. DH already knows what he's getting, I don't think he'll be disappointed when he opens the package.

4:27 p.m. - 2008-04-24
farewell old friend
All this adult stuff I'm doing (house, wedding etc.) forces me to realize that my whole self-image has been based on this particular version of me from about 15-20 years ago. I suppose a lot of us get stuck in those early identities. This is when we first felt our power, chose the outer skins we'd present to the world, defined our likes/dislikes and became complete beings in our own right. It's why people listen to music from high school and wear the same makeup for 20 years.

Now I realize that this version of me was only around for a short time, relatively speaking, then evolved into current me. Responsible, rather dull, complacent. I say this as if those are bad things to be, which they are not, simply that they are this alien version of self.

But having been this self for so long, one can safely say that it really is who I am. So I must stop thinking of myself as the old me and realize that everyone sees me as current me, and no on else.

So I want to be her again? Oh she had fun. Slept around alot, drank alot, partied and had a good time but was also often miserable (ok, easily chalked up to being in the grieiving process after my mom died) and was often confounded by life. She was aimless, drifting and not very confident.

The curious thing will be to see who comes around after this mommying phase of my life is done.

Anyway, silly to think of myself as someone who is to all extents and purposes, largely deceased/mummified.

Alone in the office now so I'm sneaking out early.

1:44 p.m. - 2008-04-23
A surprising turn of events
No more griping about the book process. I hadn't realized how repetitive I'd become. Over-sharing my circular brain patterns, round and round and round over the same topic, worry, item, obsession, until it is worn smooth and eventually rubbed away.

Here's the big announcement. DH and I are getting married. yes, very long time coming, I know. It was a mutual decision, motivated in part by tax and insurance woes, totally unromantic I know, but the wedding will be romantic and lovely. We are getting married in about 6 weeks. On top of the books, the new house and various vacations/summer camp/school registrations etc., it's going to be a mad month. My 38th birthday is also right around the corner but I have no plans.

I was worried that some family or friends would react negatively but everyone has been very supportive and happy for us so it's reassuring. We've already nailed down our location, song (Johnny Hartman and John Coltrane), food (Thai) and cake (I found this little local bakery that makes a Victorian cake brushed with rosewater, with buttercream and raspberry jam!), found a tux and bought our rings. Now I'm going to clean the new house, paint the living room a soft buttery cream color to offset the white mouldings and decorate the yard with pink and yellow flowers and fairy lights. We'll have our ceremony at this cute little Tudor chapel and meet at the new house afterwards to eat and cut cake.

Phew. A crazy amount of work. I would take the month off from my freelance client but I can't afford to.

The days are a blur, honestly.

There are a million things running through my mind but mostly I think that this is it. The abandonment of fantasy, the growing up that's left to do. For I may be the crazy girl, but I'd never intentionally make my family's lives miserable by running off, avoiding my responsibilities or settling into my own peculiar brand of weirdness at the expense of my children. I think that part of me will go into hibernation, permanent or otherwise. I am looking at a period of long dormancy.

LB noticed a spot of mayonnaise on my hand this morning while I was making a sandwich and asked me when I was going to take it off. He also complains about getting his hands wet (!!) and I'm astonished to think that such a strange trait could be genetic. I see some similarities between us, temperament-wise, and am already vigilant about teaching him techniques to manage his worries, so that they needn't be a handicap when he's older. I'm also wary of labeling him or putting him into my boxes, looking for likenesses between us that aren't there, so mostly I'm just taking mental notes at this point.

Astonishing to think that someday soon I will be a married lady. It sounds so proper. The death of fun, but fun hasn't exactly been squirting out my ears now, has it?