It feels like I'm always playing catch up. I guess it started as a kid. I just wasn't interested in the long series books where every story ended the same way. (Even before I started writing I was all about plot). If only Harry Potter or Twilight had come sooner and had a chance to suck me into their secret world. It wasn't until I snuck one of my father's books into my backpack at the age of twelve that I realized how fulfilling reading could be. But I was a decade behind and I've been trying to catch up ever since.
Don't get me wrong, I had excellent English teachers who demanded I over-analyze the classics. I still had to speed read through Bridget Jones though because my classmates already had the edge on Austen. It seems no matter how many novels I have bookmarks in at any given moment - one for the train ride home, one for right before sleep and one for an indulgent soak in a bubble bath - I can never keep up. I'm swimming in a sea of books that I never have time to catch.
The same is true for writing. I have notebooks from the last fifteen years tucked anywhere I can find the space, zip drives full and sitting idle waiting for the last edit. There isn't enough time to polish the stories on the page least wise write the ones in my head.
Now with the holidays in full swing, my time is spent at the mall (finding even more books begging to be read) or at home wrapping, decorating, and, thanks to Hallmark, wrapping decorations. In fact, it's likely that the only thing I will write this week will be Christmas cards.
If my Secret Santa is reading this, I could really do with a gift of more time.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Holiday Tradition
The mall has been decorated since the day after Halloween, Christmas music started playing on the radio some time last week, and Thanksgiving, the food-filled holiday that gets the countdown rolling, is this Thursday. But still, even though I've pulled the decorations out and bought the cards to mail in the next few weeks, it just doesn't feel like Christmas is coming.
I started watching holiday movies and have plans to see The Christmas Carol on IMAX next weekend. (It was going to be this weekend but New Moon won... as if there was ever a competition). Nothing I do is getting I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas stuck in my head like every other year before. Even the Waitresses can't get me to do Christmas right this time.
Then I read the quote from Kate Moss saying that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels and it kind of came crashing down on me. I couldn't agree with her less. I'm very far from Kate Moss skinny though so maybe supermodel thinness comes with a feeling of euphoria that I'm not aware of (or maybe that's just low blood sugar). Still, I would gladly pack on those extra holiday ten for a chance to enjoy real stuffing. I wouldn't hesitate to add an extra hour to my gym time in order to have oatmeal cookies for breakfast, butter cookies with lunch and of course a cup of hot chocolate with chocolate chip cookies before bed. (I now see why I don't know what low blood sugar feels like). It's not just the cookies though, it's the candy and cakes, the three hour long dinners out with friends you only see once a year and the holiday work lunches where everyone eats so much we all just stare at one another like cows slowly blinking as we digest.
You spend all this money on giving holiday cheer to others, the food is your cheer to yourself. Maybe it's not healthy, but it's only for a month - one month of treating yourself to a little indulgence. This is the time of year when you're supposed to enjoy yourself, when you're supposed to reward yourself for finally putting all the decorations on the tree, finding a gift for everyone on your list and wrapping them! And those freaking Christmas cards, how do you write them all without the promise of a sugar cookie after every five completed?
I'm having a hard time this year and it's not even December yet. I could try to bake gluten-free cookies that I know won't taste the same, I could make the long trip to pick up a pie that no one will touch but me. I could even order twelve salads at the holiday work lunch just to feel as full as my co-workers. But it's not the same... and what are the holidays about if not tradition?
Maybe Kate Moss knows how to start new traditions...
I started watching holiday movies and have plans to see The Christmas Carol on IMAX next weekend. (It was going to be this weekend but New Moon won... as if there was ever a competition). Nothing I do is getting I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas stuck in my head like every other year before. Even the Waitresses can't get me to do Christmas right this time.
Then I read the quote from Kate Moss saying that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels and it kind of came crashing down on me. I couldn't agree with her less. I'm very far from Kate Moss skinny though so maybe supermodel thinness comes with a feeling of euphoria that I'm not aware of (or maybe that's just low blood sugar). Still, I would gladly pack on those extra holiday ten for a chance to enjoy real stuffing. I wouldn't hesitate to add an extra hour to my gym time in order to have oatmeal cookies for breakfast, butter cookies with lunch and of course a cup of hot chocolate with chocolate chip cookies before bed. (I now see why I don't know what low blood sugar feels like). It's not just the cookies though, it's the candy and cakes, the three hour long dinners out with friends you only see once a year and the holiday work lunches where everyone eats so much we all just stare at one another like cows slowly blinking as we digest.
You spend all this money on giving holiday cheer to others, the food is your cheer to yourself. Maybe it's not healthy, but it's only for a month - one month of treating yourself to a little indulgence. This is the time of year when you're supposed to enjoy yourself, when you're supposed to reward yourself for finally putting all the decorations on the tree, finding a gift for everyone on your list and wrapping them! And those freaking Christmas cards, how do you write them all without the promise of a sugar cookie after every five completed?
I'm having a hard time this year and it's not even December yet. I could try to bake gluten-free cookies that I know won't taste the same, I could make the long trip to pick up a pie that no one will touch but me. I could even order twelve salads at the holiday work lunch just to feel as full as my co-workers. But it's not the same... and what are the holidays about if not tradition?
Maybe Kate Moss knows how to start new traditions...
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Elusive Inspiration
There are days when everywhere I look there is a story waiting to be told. Every song I hear provokes a plot and every person I see adds a detail for a character. Other days, I feel like I live in a vacuum. It's like being in a state of depression when nothing moves you.
I can sit in Bryant Park and watch the array of characters literally skate past me, potential dramas, comedies and of course, this being New York near the holidays, romances. Like the inexperienced skater, it all falls flat. There is something out there, I know there is, but how do I find it?
Perhaps my greatest remorse is the overheard conversation by some sixty plus women behind me. They were discussing... Bon Jovi's birthday. Add in their British accents and you know it should bloody well start the creative juices flowing. Maybe some things aren't meant to be or maybe some things just take a little bit more - like if I had actually seen them rocking out at a concert. Still, I have to trust that it will eventually come. Inspiration, like love, can not be forced. But like a single girl looking for the one, I have to put myself out there.
I can sit in Bryant Park and watch the array of characters literally skate past me, potential dramas, comedies and of course, this being New York near the holidays, romances. Like the inexperienced skater, it all falls flat. There is something out there, I know there is, but how do I find it?
Perhaps my greatest remorse is the overheard conversation by some sixty plus women behind me. They were discussing... Bon Jovi's birthday. Add in their British accents and you know it should bloody well start the creative juices flowing. Maybe some things aren't meant to be or maybe some things just take a little bit more - like if I had actually seen them rocking out at a concert. Still, I have to trust that it will eventually come. Inspiration, like love, can not be forced. But like a single girl looking for the one, I have to put myself out there.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The New Small Talk
Everyday, EVERYDAY, I get asked "Can you eat this?"
It's never when someone is offering me food, trying to find a restaurant for lunch or a baker/cook who wants to ensure they make something that I can enjoy. It's not even a "how was traffic this morning" kind of question that's curious in a concerned way. It's more of an adult form of "Na Na Na Na."
I know, I know, your first thought is man, is she being overly sensitive. But when someone is munching on a Twix bar in front of my face, and they don't have a spare one that they were going to offer me, I can't help but wonder what the point is of asking me if I can have one. They then respond to my no with a "these are really good." Followed by them sucking on each chocolate coated finger with a look of pure (somewhat evil looking) glee. I even get the "I know you can't have it but I tried the best cereal/sandwich/pizza this morning/yesterday." What am I supposed to say to that, "Good for you?"
I can honestly say that no one ever talked to me about food before I was diagnosed. People constantly forgot I was a vegetarian until I would order a veggie burger. Tell them you can't have bread though, and they bring it up everyday. Now it seems a daily poll of what I can and can't eat is considered small talk. I long for the days where we talked about movies, tv, Twilight or even the weather. Instead, now all I get is "Weight Watchers has all these new meals out that taste divine. I don't think there is anything you can eat, but they are really great." How does that pop into someone's mind as an acceptable thing to say? It's like me saying, "I know you could never fit into a pair, but I really love my skinny jeans."
It's never when someone is offering me food, trying to find a restaurant for lunch or a baker/cook who wants to ensure they make something that I can enjoy. It's not even a "how was traffic this morning" kind of question that's curious in a concerned way. It's more of an adult form of "Na Na Na Na."
I know, I know, your first thought is man, is she being overly sensitive. But when someone is munching on a Twix bar in front of my face, and they don't have a spare one that they were going to offer me, I can't help but wonder what the point is of asking me if I can have one. They then respond to my no with a "these are really good." Followed by them sucking on each chocolate coated finger with a look of pure (somewhat evil looking) glee. I even get the "I know you can't have it but I tried the best cereal/sandwich/pizza this morning/yesterday." What am I supposed to say to that, "Good for you?"
I can honestly say that no one ever talked to me about food before I was diagnosed. People constantly forgot I was a vegetarian until I would order a veggie burger. Tell them you can't have bread though, and they bring it up everyday. Now it seems a daily poll of what I can and can't eat is considered small talk. I long for the days where we talked about movies, tv, Twilight or even the weather. Instead, now all I get is "Weight Watchers has all these new meals out that taste divine. I don't think there is anything you can eat, but they are really great." How does that pop into someone's mind as an acceptable thing to say? It's like me saying, "I know you could never fit into a pair, but I really love my skinny jeans."
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