Number Eight

Ahem.

Hello?

Anyone still there?

It is I, she of a Muppet-like soul.

If I dare believe that any of my old bloggy-friends is still out there, aware of my existence... My guess would be that the main sentiment would be "where the hell have you been?!"




Oh, kids. Life has thrown me a few curve balls - all pretty wonderful ones, but nonetheless distracting...

As we speak, I am sitting in a house. A house that I own. I am sitting in my own office in my own house (this is friggin fantastic, but also takes something away from the illusion that I am still a kid).

It is a horribly chaotic office, and one of the few rooms we haven't made over yet, and haven't gotten around to going through and organizing.. The carpet is mauve, there is (gasp) wood paneling on half of the walls, and frankly I suspect it's haunted. But I am writing to you on my very own blue desk, on my very own wheezing laptop, looking out of my very own window. It's unorganized and new and there are still ( double gasp) boxes to be unpacked despite living here since November, but it's mine. Well, ours. But, you know, mine.





I just turned 28.. when... a week ago Sunday.

I know that every time New Years rolls around, or someone has a birthday, they make promises to themselves about the upcoming year, and it usually is absolute crap that lives in the mind for less than two weeks before becoming completely irrelevant.

As a matter of fact, last year, on my birthday ( which happens to be near New Years -a double whammy) I finally said to myself "Okay... I'd like a house, if that's possible. Other than that, I want a good year... The rest is details. There, no disappointments. I resolve to no longer make resolutions".

I didn't keep that resolution, either.

The good news is, the things I want to do this year have little or nothing to do with my age or that it's a new decade, but both of those things provided an extra nudge, and starting certain changes on those start dates has a nice, neat little ring to it.





Motivation for changes, number one: when I'm sitting on my butt watching T.V., there is the same merry-go-round of guilt and wishes spinning in my troubled little head. I would like to get rid of them, because they're poison.

Motivation number two: I ( we... well, you know) decided that come summer or fall of this year, I want to start trying to get knocked up. Er, pregnant. Fairly big deal.


So what do I want to do, you say? Well, I'll get into details and definitions in another entry, but basically, in no order:

1). Get body ship-shape (sure that means losing weight, but mostly it means feeling better).
2). Quit sleeping aides ( this one will be difficult).
3). Quit smoking ( this one will be last, Doctor agrees).
4). Cooking. ( this will take explaining, seeing as I already cook).
5). No more proximity-relationships ( again, further explanation at a later date).
6). Get my house where I want it to be ( getting there, slowly).
7). Make money.
8). Write. sell writing. Write every day.



And number eight is what leads me back to you....

I've been on the 'write every day' kick for awhile now... And maybe writing fiction is enough, but every time I get a little email declaring someone is trying to put up viagra links in my comment section, well, I miss the hell out of you. It's writer-on-writer love, constant support, and little insights I wouldn't normally get in my own life.

So smoochies... I missed you... Hope some of you are still out there.