The halfway point

I was thinking that I was too tired to bang out a post, but then I realized that if I put it off until later, that would mean I'd have to go downstairs and be social and whatnot.

Nearly everyone has arrived for the Thanksgiving festivities, so the house is crammed full. I'm right at that halfway point of a big trip where I'm tired of people and just want a nap. But I'm trying to squelch that and stay friendly.

On the upside, part of the reason I'm so knackered is because we've been running all around Austin seeing all sorts of awesome stuff, and it's been great. I'm really loving it.

But now even MORE people have shown up, so now I really do have to go downstairs and be friendly.

Ups and downs and April's finally over

Part of me keeps shouting inside that the reason I haven't posted lately is because April sucked.

But then that quieter, calmer part of me points out that April really didn't suck. Big parts of it were hugely, fantastically great. But just the last bit of April sucked, and it ruined the rest for me.

I got in a car accident last week (I'm ok), and I just dropped off my car at the body shop, so I am feeling depressed and cut off from the independence I'm used to. For the next ten days or so. It's exhausting just to think about the dance I'll have to do to deal with it, and all the other things I need to get done.

The ironic thing is that in the face of all that, otherwise I've been feeling really good. Reading and writing more, and knitting less, which I'm surprisingly ok with. Maybe the obsession is waning into a beloved hobby that I can stand to put down from time to time. Also, I've been doing lots of thinking and planning about what I want to actually do with my life. I'm feeling like I'm ready to start moving myself in some discernible direction, which is a truly refreshing feeling, after mostly doing nothing for a year (aside from that pesky day job, of course).

So I'm on the brink of finishing my forty-somethingth journal (honestly, I lost count awhile back. For all I know, I might be in the fifties by now), which always makes me feel good. Anticipation has always been one of my favorite things to feel. That's the real reason I love Christmas and birthday. It's the buildup, not the presents. So all those clean, white pages waiting to be filled give me a little thrill, and always have, and always will.

And two of the books I ordered when I got my tax return have arrived, just in time to make it that much harder to decide what I'll read next. Naturally. Such is my life. Earlier today, on my lunch break, I finished reading The Salmon of Doubt, which was wonderful, every bit of it.

I think my favorite part of the whole book was in his interview with the Onion, when he said "I think the idea of art kills creativity." I was thinking about that a lot this weekend. Boy-Creature and I went to New Orleans to visit my family and go to Jazz Fest. It was on my mind all weekend while I was wandering around booths filled with art and listening to these icons of music, all of them just doing what they do. I can't imagine that they think of it as this titanic, heavy, important thing that is required of their genius. It's just a thing they do. And it all becomes so much easier when you think of it that way. I've spent so much of the last year getting in my own way, and I want to stop. Just be creative instead of worrying about art. Just do stuff without thinking about it.

It all comes out in the wash

I've been cranky more than usual lately, so I've been avoiding blogging, since I don't really want to take it out on the rest of the world. But in the last week I got a haircut and got a whole crappy first draft of a story out (I don't know if I'll do much else with it, but even writing crap is better than writing nothing, so that still feels good). And last night I had sushi and a raspberry lemon tart, and we watched Prisoner of Azkaban, so things are going ok. That's really all. Just trying to remind myself that things are going ok.