Category Archives: Just Me, Being Me

So Burnt

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I have semi-personally been trying to find the joy in life again, in peope. Oh, I’m doing an okay job of faking it until I make it, but right now? In this exact moment I am simply burnt the fuck out.

And I’m torn…

– in my sorrow for the shit that’s happening in Ukraine. The sanitized politics that’s being parsed out as news over here versus the sensationalized what’s supposed to be coming directly from there on top of what I hear from my colleagues. All of which means everything and nothing as I try not to fret and fear over the fact that I have not heard from someone I personally know there in over a month. An erstwhile colleague, he went home when his mother became ill not long before the world shut down because of Covid. We remained in spotty contact mostly via email. He lives in the Holosiivskyi raion (a district in Kyiv) and would be among the men now in uniform fighting for his country. I fully understand, I am far from a priority now. I don’t know and won’t know until he can find a moment to reach out.

– in my exasperation over Prince William who tells the world with a straight fucking face that only Asian and African countries wage war. That Europeans just don’t do these things and he’s surprised by the situation in Ukraine. Are you fucking kidding me?! England has a track record of poaching and taking by any means necessary, under the sweet term of ‘colonizing’ a mile wide and an ocean deep. I find this particularly galling as England recently celebrated Commonwealth Day the partnership of 54 nations, mostly made up of countries that were previously part of Britain’s Empire because I’m so absolutely sure not a single one of those 54 nations ever had a British gun fired upon them. Yes, Prince William is a grown man, but still, boy if you don’t go sit your selectively blind arse down!!

– in resignation along with these allegedly warmongering Asian and African countries, as well as Black Twitter, who are all sitting back, looking around with “you SEE this bullshit?” expressions. They are understandably side-eyeing a world at large that is seemingly losing its shit over Ukraine while also wondering where the fuck was all this concern for them when it was people/countries of color being invaded?

– in enmity with the state of Florida and their “Don’t say Gay” bill which would ban “classroom discussion about sexual orientation or gender identity” for primary school children in the state. What that fuck is this reverse “Field of Dreams” bullshit? If you don’t say it to the kiddies then LGBTQ won’t exist. Yeah, good luck with that. And how long before someone amends the ban to include middle school, or high school?

– annoyance and semi fear of my own city, in fact – most of this world, with its relaxing of Covid restrictions. Every one is so much of a rush to behave as though everything is back to “normal”. Yes, I am so sick of having to wear a mask 12-16 hours a day when I step out my house to go to work, and/or try to have something of a social life again. But I much rather be sick of a mask, than be sick from Covid. Vaccination does NOT equal immunization. Less likely to become so sick from Covid that one might die, does not mean one won’t get sick. It most certainly does not mean one won’t be a carrier regardless and transmit it to someone else regardless. We [the world at large] are not anywhere near ready for what we once knew as “normal”. Especially for those at risk who genuinely cannot take the vaccine. Do they get relegated to become some form of agoraphobes to better protect their health from a world that demasked too soon? I’m waiting for the Covid numbers to once again start rising as more masks get lowered.

– in a form of self-induce ambivalence where I get through my days in a state of “I’m fine”. In the Venn diagram of me for the most part I really am fine in my little bubble of the world. But in another part of me there is this powder keg of utter helplessness within that feels like it is going to explode any fucking second and it’s slowly expanding over space. And the thing is even I am not sure if that explosion will be in egregious rage, in sinking depression or in an apathy that is borderline socio in self protection. Because I know what happens to me when I try to be everything to everyone. I’ve gone the self-martyr route and it was a bitch digging myself out of that emotional quagmire to allow myself to be happy. I cannot do that to myself again. I’m justifying to myself why an upcoming pleasure trip to Atlanta in a couple of weeks is sorely needed. Yet, I’m also chastising myself because I feel like a whiny little brat when I know I don’t have it any where near as bad some of my locals who are truly shouldering some heavy burdens in which I can do nothing for them but be emotional support – it’s enough for them – I know it is, and yet it’s not.

I’m trying to give myself perspective to keep all my petty shit together and get through the daily, but it has been so fucking hard. I’m just so burnt with outside forces playing havoc with my inner equilibrium right now.

Day 17 of 31

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

Amused and Bemused

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I enjoy placing the credit/blame of my creativity on Muse. You loved it? “Thanks, Muse was good to me.” Could’ve done without it? “Yeah, Muse was on something, too bad.” It matters not to me, nor that bossy chick.

Yes bossy. Yes chick.

I mostly tend to refer to Muse in the feminine because of Greek Mythology and the Nine Muses. Even so, every now and again it is certainly a masculine voice I heed in the other classic definition of Muse as a personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative.

I get an idea in my funny ol’ head and it won’t go away until I at least start a chunk of it. Especially in writing. Muse does not give a single frack that it’s three in the blessed morning. I can/have/will be tired as all get out, just about to drop off into the deepest of REM slumber and BOOM an idea will strike. If I’m extremely lucky Muse will let me jot down a few notes and return to sleep. Most of the time, I’m not that lucky. I am no longer surprised to see I awakened and over an hour has passed because Muse whispered and enforced dominance over me.

It happened again last night.

I am a part of several writing groups. As voyeur reader with most, more active with others. Last night, I went through my usual routine: laid out my clothes for the next day, checked my lights and locks, ensured the stove was off (even though I had not turned it on since Sunday – go figure). I was in bed, under the covers, doing a final look with one of my groups when a prompt caught my eye. It was a cute prompt; I could see it going in different directions. I looked forward to reading whatever soul who took up the prompt would do with it. As for me, it was now after the witching hour -this is normal bedtime for me shush(!)- I plugged in my phone to charge, turned off my lamp and tucked in for the night.

Can someone please explain to me how Chapter One, with my name as author, got posted some forty-five minutes later?

Participles are dangling all over the place as though it’s law, wrote Vesuvius Man instead of Vitruvian Man, but there it was – out in the world in shiny glory. How did this happen, again? Yeah, you’ve got it. Dang Muse made me get out of bed, get on my computer, start typing and did not stop until I pressed “Post”. Worse, it’s Chapter One – implying there is more to come and now I’ve got to fulfill on that implication.

Wait. What the…? Dammit! Stop snickering Melpomene!

I already have three WIPs (works in progress), out there. Two, half-finished poems, an idea for another, plus a mental Fort Knox full of plot bunnies. All of them are clamoring for attention. And now this? Not to mention being at the literal halfway point of the annual Slice of Life Challenge.

No one asked my permission! As if Muse ever does. Sigh.

Yes mistress…

Day 16 of 31 – let’s see how others have hit this apex point today….

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

Venus Envy

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As a city gal in the northern hemisphere, for me the spring forward of Daylight Savings Time has one and only ONE advantage. I get to enjoy the sight of the planet Venus rising in the morning for a couple more weeks.

I have no idea when I started noticing the ol’ gal in my morning commutes, but once I had I search for her presence each morning with a clear sky. Over time I realized I start to notice her ascent over the rooftop of the elevated subway platform sometime after Martin Luther King Jr.’s here in the States, generally in mid-to late-January. I’ll just look up one clear morning and realize she’s there.

Even though it near the middle of winter she is my very first harbinger of the still a little too distant coming of spring. I notice Venus and within a week or two I will notice the first hints that the days are getting longer. I will catch the final glimpses of sunlight when my trains rises from being subterranean to elevated in the evenings even if only for fifteen minutes before Nyx lays her claim to the skies.

She starts barely noticeable to my left, slowly rising higher and shifting to the right. Come Valentine’s day I usually can spot her ascent from the jagged rooftops the comprise the skyline of my neighborhood as I walk down the hill to the train station. By early March morning skies are lightening and her glowing beauty begins to pale in El Sol’s exuberance. It is such a gradual takeover that I honestly do not notice that I am losing sight of her. To everything turn, turn, turn – after all..

Then Daylight Savings Time happens.

It’s an oddity that springing forward in time on Sunday plunges us backwards into night skies again for a brief time come Monday morning. But that oddity, plus clear skies, gave me this singular beauty floating in what’s left of the night.

elevated subway at dawn's twilight showing Venus rising.
See that dot in the sky above the train? That’s Venus.

I know I’ll only have a couple more weeks of her charm at most before Demeter reminds El Sol that Persephone’s is bound for home soon and he needs to help her warm things up for her arrival. That’s okay, even if I can’t easily spot you, I know you’re still there – shine on silver girl.

Day 15 of 31 – Let’s see how others are slicing it out today…

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

1000 Pennies for My Thoughts

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So before posting yesterday’s slice I noticed something:

999 published posts

WHOA! I never really paid attention to my post count. The nineteen items that perpetually reside in my Draft folder, seemingly for all eternity, is one thing. Being aware of how many birds left the nest – I had no idea. I was completely taken aback to realize I’ve done this.

Twelve years ago, just last month(!), I decided to start sharing my one pence with the world and hoped no one wanted back change. It was a little bit daunting to contemplate that I was one click away a from such a milestone. One click away from sharing the one thousandth of my thoughts, poems and general wiseassery on WordPress. And while the mile marker slice I posted yesterday was not anything profound, it was very representative of me.

Can’t really ask for much more than that from a personal blog post.

So I clicked “Publish“

🍾🥂 Twelve years and one thousand posts down and I still feel like I’m only just getting started….

Day 14 of 31 – Let’s see how others are slicing out achievements today…

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

To Geek or Not To Geek Nerd is the Question

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And today I let my nerdy geek fly when I pointed out to a fellow Game of Thrones fan that technically speaking Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons is actually the Mother of Wyverns.

Geeky? I actually said Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons. (For the more technical, aka Game of Thrones nerdy among you , yes, I know her title is missing at least three more parts, but I ran out of breath typing it, whatevs – go stand in the corner and and call out dracarys!, see how much I’m worried about getting flamed over it.)

Nerdy? I then corrected my own self with is actually the Mother of Wyverns.

What about Vern you say? Glad you asked! (I know you didn’t.)

The George R. R. Martin novels are brilliant. However, whomever designed Daenerys’ ‘children’ for the show a little less so. Was there not one geek/nerd in the art department to fact check, or had someone like me to explain the error of their ways? Or were they outvoted on the technicality because to quote TikTok “Who’s gonna know?/They’re gonna know./Who’s gonna know?” * insert any raising hand gif you want here *. And before any go there, asking but isn’t a wyvern a type of dragon?, is akin to asking isn’t a crocodile a type of alligator? or aren’t salamanders and newts the same thing? Close, but no cigar, Virginia. In TLDR terms, while both are fire breathing creatures, wyvern have two legs, dragons have four. There are other differences, but I shan’t completely nerd out here in such detail you care to know. (I know you don’t.)

But I get why people just call them all dragons, I do. After all, Martin naming his novel A Waltz with Wyvern just wouldn’t have quite the same cachet, would it?

And here’s the crazy thing: I didn’t know I knew what a wyvern was until I said it. I have no idea when I learned it, or even in what context. Hey, I learned some flight terminology from a comic book, you can gain knowledge from the most unexpected places. Still, I guarantee were this Jeopardy! I would have drawn a blank in that needed moment, because that’s also how my brain doesn’t work sometimes. I have so many things on the tip of my tongue at any given moment it’s a wonder I can close my mouth. But I knew I was right about them. It amuses me how these odd pieces of nerf-formation stored in my cranium will crop up in conversations like a whack-a-mole rodent. (I know some want to whack me.)

And usually just unexpected – like yesterday’s post revealing the tidbit on Larry Bird. Or my penceant to randomly name-drop mythological deities with pop-culture references as though Bast, Dr. Strange, Beyoncé, Shiva, Worf, Freya, Childish Gambino and I are close personal peeps with whom I break out the mead, Kanar and ambrosia on any given night for a kiki in Kamar Taj. Hunty!

When these moments happen, I am inevitably asked a variation of how do you know these things? Which my brain generally interprets as why do you know these things? The answer remains the same: I drink and I I know random things – but hell if I know how I know them. (You certainly don’t want to know.)

Day 13 of 31 – Let’s see if others know how they are are slicing it out this Sunday…

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

It’s 23:33 and All’s Sorta – I don’t Know

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Today was a day. Maybe it wasn’t swell, but at least it wasn’t hell.

That’s the tweet as they say in Twitterverse.

Did you know the Twitter bird mascot is named Larry T. Bird? Yes, after the famous basketball player, Larry Bird.

Yeah, seriously, t-t-t-that’s all I got folks.

The brain is still fried. Let’s try this again tomorrow.

Day 12 of 31

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

I Don’t Wanna

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From Monday morning my mind has been on GO!  It’s been pulling teeth while herding cats in the midst of putting out fires on the professional work front. Meanwhile my personal Inbox of work overfloweth. It’s the reason some of my slices have been posting really late this week. It’s been a string of “I’ll get to it in a moment as soon as I *fill in the blankety-blank-blank*”. Only I get distracted by this, then remember that and and dammit I forgot about whatever…  Next thing I know it’s after 9pm-10pm and I’m pantsing my slices. <– That somehow sounds wrong, but I don’t wanna think about it.

Oh good God, I'm exHAUSTed
Bonus points to those who know where this is from…

I’ve been mentally flying by the seat of my pants all week and I know those planes of thought -because trains of thought are too slow for my needs right now- are about to crash and burn. Sunday starts daylight saving time for most of the U.S. and I’m so tired the thought of losing that hour on Sunday has me worn out. I don’t wanna…

While the above gif is a THISCLOSE second place, this scene below is the most relatable thing to my brain’s processing capacity right now because I don’t…

At least it’s Friday, I think…right? Right.

Day 10  of 31 – Let’s see how others are slicing it out today…

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

Creeper

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I am not a fan of most creatures with more than four legs. I mean insects. Multi-limbed aquatic creatures are fine, especially in a marinara sauce. [I kid, I kid – sorta]

For instance I can deal with your neighborhood household or field spider. No, let me rephrase that.

I can deal with the household or outdoor spiders that I grew up with or learned to deal with. I’ve seen images of Australian Hunter spiders. Those mofos gave me pause. I’m told they are relatively harmless, but my brain says –fill in all the ways to say aw HELLZ to the NO here-.

Of the spiders I am familiar with, I love trying to capture images of spiders webs, preferably with the architect, and sometimes its prey, there. I will not freak out in the presence of a tarantula IF I know one is there. I have even held a few of the lovely creepy crawlers. However, forewarned is fore armed. It would NOT be wise for any tarantula to suddenly drop onto my lap. Little Miss Muffat would be left in my dust.

And the more legs it has – the less I like it – the faster I’m (over)reacting. Thus I abhor the most wretched of these: house centipedes. Spring is coming and I know I’m about to see a few of them. Why does something that is deadly to other most home insects, but harmless to us humans need to look like that? Why does it need so many freaking legs!

<Okay Raivenne, breathe 2,3,4 – step back – exhale 2,3,4. Pats hair (thanks GG😁)>

Seriously WHY God WHYYYYY?
/back of wrist to forehead melodrama – and scene

That being said, it brings me to today’s slice. Imagine my initial reaction when I reached over to my Keurig to get my much needed morning java and saw this…

the unexpected.

Because I was in motion, the air displacement cause it moved as though about to climb the mug. Let’s just say it was some VERY tense couple of split seconds to choke down the varying and conflicting reactions that hit:

  • Do NOT yell in the office.
  • Do NOT throw the mug and its contents to get that thing away from my desk – think of the COFFEE!!!
  • Do NOT set fire to it!
kill it with fire!
  • Swipe the offender away and crush it under the cold hard heel of my boot and…
  • Breathe realizing it was only a feather from my freaking coat.

It might have only been a couple of split seconds, but those spit seconds were fright, then fight for my coffee, before just breathe kicked in, let me tell you.

And now I return me and my heart rate to our regularly scheduled attacks and take a sip.

Day 10 of 31 – Let’s see how others are hopefully not freaking themselves out today.

15th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge - Two Writing Teachers

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

The “I”s Have It (When I Don’t Have Anything Else)

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I sat all day wondering what to slice about. What am I going to do? What am I going to say? I have no idea…

I… I… I… oooh wait…

I have an idea…!

I am 
so over being cooped up in my apartment this winter.
I keep 
my fingers crossed that the a trip I have planned holds.
I wish 
I was on that trip right now.
I dance
like I have three left feet and two are broken – doesn’t stop me from dancing.
I sing 
badly – doesn’t stop me from from grabbing a karaoke mic and belting out a tune anyway
I think 
teachers are hardly paid enough for all the work they do.
I want
to hit lotto, but don’t need to to be happy and glad to be in a place in my life to know this.
I should 
finish that painting project started months ago, because
I can 
be a serious procrastinator.
I always 
try my best.
I love 
I myself, inside and out at last.

Day 9 of 31 – Come see how the rest of us are slicing it up today!

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers

Not Digging It

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Today is International Women’s Day. A good friend and colleague gave me chocolates in celebration of it. A few minutes later he come t my desk asking if I want to see a magic trick. Naturally, looking for a diversion from the more professionally put are you stupid? email I need to compose, I say yes. He does a whole dramatic swirling thing with hands before making on object magically appear. It was an object I did not see disappear, but that was kind of the point as my earring appeared in his hand with a final flourish.

I immediately reach for my right ear lobe and sure enough it’s missing the earring. I thank him happy it was saved from the graveyard. The what he, and now you, ask? The Jewelry Graveyard.

Welcome to just a small portion of the graveyard. Technically the full graveyard is a box where I place all my broken baubles. The necklaces whose chain broke, rings and bracelets with missing ‘stones’ yoy get it. You know the things that might end up in some multi-media art work of mine on a someday that has yet to happen. Yet.

In the case of these earrings It’s where the lonely, never to be mated again come to sort of die. I say sort of because I do have my Pollyanna moments at the oddest times and this is one. I simply cannot concede one will never be well matched again, that once you lose your mate your value is somehow lessened. I will find the perfect match again. Yes, I am still talking about earrings here.

This section is just one more thing I blame on Covid. Each one of these is a earring from my left ear because the earring from my right ear somehow slipped away. I imagine it happens at one of the several points in the day where having on my mask frustrates me. I either fiddle with it or yank it off. Most times I feel the pull and stop myself, but here is evidence of nine times I failed to do so and I reach work or home or wherever sans a right earring.

An array of earrings without matches spread out on a black cloth

And it’s always the right earring! I’ve given up trying to figure out the angles or differences in force ratio to my right that these are all that’s left.

Day 8 of 31

15th Annual Slice of Life Writing Challenge
Two Writing Teachers