flounder for president

For the briefest of moments this morning, I was Ariel as I stepped out the door. Not with the long, flowing red hair I always wanted. Sadly, not with the tail. But, still. I’m not sure if it is a squirrel with an identity crisis or a bird with multiple personality disorder, but either way, one of them has the call of a dolphin down perfectly. As I stepped outside, the dolphin’s chatter greeted me, causing the salt-water breeze to flow, the sunrise glisten from the top of the waves, the seals lounging in La Jolla. Then it all crashed down into a normal Monday. . . but just for a second, it was something special. Although bird or squirrel with that talent or delusion is pretty special all on its own.
Even more off his rocker than my oceanic rodent-avian friend, Alan Keys, writer for World Net Daily, has taken stupidity to a whole new level. Alan is a very dark skinned African-American. From the picture I saw, a rather handsome man, actually. Probably was a very handsome man ten years ago. He was talking about Obama’s new stance on DOMA (this shows how ignorant I am—I always thought DOMA was something to do with finance—Never been good with acronyms. Finally put Defense Of Marriage Act together with its corresponding letters). Mr. Keys, amidst lots of other brilliant diatribes said that letting gays marry ‘is like granting plantation owners the right to own slaves.’ First and foremost, hasn’t this moron ever watched Will & Grace? It’s not the gays who have servants, it’s the Karen Walker’s of the world, and even then, it’s Rosario, who didn’t even have a cameo in Haley’s Roots. Second, if you’re going to be bigoted enough to deny other minorities the same rights as yourself, Alan, at least pick an analogy that doesn’t require six entire atlases to enable the reader to make a tenuous connection. (The sad thing, as I did the smallest amount of research on Mr. Keys, I discovered, that once again, in all other political endeavors, I am nearly 100% on board with this jackass. That gets really old.) And speaking of politicians I can’t stand, I have to say, I am very, very grateful for his stance on DOMA. While he still isn’t for gay-marriage (whatever), the very existence of DOMA is so blatantly discriminatory (regardless of your religious or personal beliefs) it’s impossible for me to see how anyone with an ounce of common sense and belief in American freedom can support it, and I respect him for not kowtowing to what could be an easier position to take on an issue that could have won him points with his adversaries.

melt

My age shows through more all the time. I canceled all my plans last night so I could lie on the couch, eat a crazy amount of food, and fall asleep early. Slept over ten hours. I still hate that I have to sleep, but I feel sooooo much better.
I have now sold twenty-one books. Not very many, really, but still enough to make me feel that someone will actually read them, which is a nice feeling. Most of the ones that have been purchased, I know who bought them. However, there are a couple that I have no idea who got them. I wish there was some way to know who they are—to know which advertising that I’m doing worked, if any. I haven’t heard anymore from any publishers/agents lately. That’s rather discouraging. While I don’t enjoy the rejection letters, at least they are acknowledging my books’ existence, even if they’d rather them not, exist that is.
I have a new obsession. It’s not that new, actually, but it is growing.
Asaigo Cheese.
Oh. My. Goodness. It’s pungent, tangy, and kinda waxy. Fantastic. It made up a huge portion of my dinner last night. It is in the homemade chicken tortellini soup (base recipe provided by KE, altered drastically by me and partly by HWMNBN). One of the alterations is an entire brick of Parmesan and a brick of Asaigo. In addition, I purchased one of those loaves of hot bread that are sitting at the front of King Soopers. They sit there, steaming, glaring seductively, their sent wafting over, their pheromones causing unsettling stirrings. How is a red-blooded, non-castrated American male supposed to resist? By the time I arrived home, there was only a small portion of the loaf remaining, still tantalizing, requesting role-play. I obliged. Sliced, doused with olive oil, dusted with oregano and thyme, enveloped in thick slabs of Asiago, lustfully toasted till the cheese oozed golden with climax.
It was good night.

CombOver

This will be one of those blogs where the lack of detail will serve only to provide a clearer picture—that, and any more detail would get me kicked off of blogger.
I spent the entire night rushing to the restroom. Finally, I’d wash my hands, reach for the door handle (yes, I live alone and still shut and lock the door), and then realize I had to start all over again. It’s been like this for a couple days, but last night was the worst, and this morning seems to be a continuation. Yay! And, by this point, ouch.
How’s that for TMI—such great writing and insight, huh? Buy my books!
I also had a mild milestone yesterday evening. It was the first season premier of America’s Next Top Model in which I didn’t get weepy. Yay for progress!
With all the teacher’s (and other) Union stuff going on, and with Civil Unions being passed in Hawaii (gorgeous and unbigoted!), my thoughts turn to Donald Trump. I heard a bit with him the other day. It seems he is/was/maybe considering running for president. No matter what his stances are, I’m not sure I could vote for anyone with that hair. There are actually many things I like about the idea of him being president. I can’t believe I’m saying that either. It seems he has enough financial sense to help our country begin to pull out of this mess we are in. I also like he view on our enemies. When asked what he would do with all these pirates, he simply said he would blow them out of the water. About fucking time! If we’d quit being such politically correct pansies, we’d quit being the doormats we are becoming. However, he doesn’t support Gay marriage. To me, the height of hypocrisy. How many affairs and divorces and marriages has this guy had? Really? If you value the whole sanctity of marriage and its historical, traditional institution to the point you deny/discriminate others of partaking, at the very least, you better be able to show it in your own life. Once again, both sides of my political views are never housed in the same person.
As you meditate in the restroom today, please keep me in your thoughts. 

clicks

It was really fun (not the right word) to feel supported yesterday with the facebook pages. Thank you to all of you that took the time to ‘like’ them. Each one met the minimum goal of 25 people, which allowed me to pick a web address, and put in some other details that I will do shortly. Of course, now, I will just wait and see if they can get enough ‘likes’ over time to get some attention. Either way, I’m very grateful for yesterday. At least, no matter how this ends up, I can say I’m trying everything I can possibly think of. Yesterday was also the first day that someone I didn’t know bought a book (through a recommendation of a sweet mutual friend), so that was also encouraging. I’ve not gotten any feedback from someone who doesn’t know me, so that will be very helpful. People are too nice when they know you, and/or they aren’t able to take your work seriously on its own merit because they are trying to figure out what is simply made up and what I stole from my own life. My friend that recommended me to his friend contacted me and ‘apologized’ for pimping me out. Please, PLEASE, any of you, pimp me out to whoever you want for as long or as much as you want.
I actually had some social commentary today, some things about the stupid pirates, the even more stupid radical Islam moron and their supporters, the unions (this entire union thing affects teachers in a huge way—but I’m kinda on the fence), Donald Trump talking about potentially running for president. All sorts of things. However, if I’m not talking about the books, it seems I think I need to talk about HWMNBN and whatever is going on in my psyche. I don’t have it in me to do that today, nor, it seems to discuss the variety of blogging issues listed above.
Therefore, have a great Wednesday!!!

LIKE

Monday was Facebook day. I spent more time on Facebook than I ever have before. However, for the first time, I felt extremely productive while on Facebook. I created two ads, one for each book, that will show up on the right side of the page on any gay boy’s account (I don’t remember if I chose just in America or everywhere…) who has reading as an interest. The ads are pay-per-click, and I could be charged up to $1.60 per click! I set my max at $5 a day. Still, that’s ten a day altogether. That’s a lot. (It wanted me to do $50 a day!) If I don’t see any profit from it in the next couple weeks, I’ll remove them. Remember how I said I was going to do anything and everything I can think of to drum up some notice? I wasn’t kidding.
I also created a page for myself, as author, a page for Submerging Inferno, and one for The Shattered Door. They’re kinda like public pages—the same ones that TV shows, real authors, and Britney Spears have. The pages where you hit Like. So, if you have a Facebook account, I would greatly appreciate it if you would take the time to look up those three pages and hit like. The more likes a page gets, the more exposure—kinda like the reviews of the novels on Amazon (although, those are MUCH more important). All these things seem rather small and desperate, but I’m hoping one thing (or a combo of all of them) will pay off. Anyway, thank you in advance for taking the time.
If nothing else, each of these endeavors gives me a little hope, no matter how far-fetched—like kickstart, and helps me feel like I am doing everything in my power and control to work for that publishing deal.
On a side note, I used a gift certificate yesterday and saw ‘I Am Number Four.’ I’ve been excited about it for awhile. However, the reviews it is getting are horrible. I loved it! There were a few special effect weaknesses, but it was a really fun movie. Made me want to read the book! Consider yourself recommended.

dear mr. president

A Monday off. Three days in a row of not waking up at six! And I never stayed up later than midnight. Wonderful! I almost feel rested, finally. And I woke up to a massage client who has become a good friend bringing me breakfast before his massage! How great and sweet is that?
It was the bff’s 30th bday weekend. So, lots of forcing myself to be social. I did pretty good. Of course, with all that alcohol, there were lots of tears. I didn’t have lots of alcohol and, for once, I wasn’t the one in tears—just the one picking up the pieces. I HATE alcohol. It’s so stupid and it makes everyone miserable. Why pot is illegal and alcohol isn’t, I have no idea. Not that I really want pot to be legal, I’ve never tried it, but it can’t be worse than alcohol. It just can’t.
Life since HWMNBN has made my compassion and empathy much more genuine, like when my friend was in his own agony last night. However, it’s stripped me of the ability to tell lies, that I never realized were lies before. After he left, people would tell me that everything was going to be alright, that it wasn’t meant to be, that life would get better. None of it true. As much as I wanted to whisper those things in his ear as I held him last night, offer some comfort, I couldn’t make myself. All I could do was confirm the pain. Confirm that he will continue to keep going. All I could offer were my arms and the gift of weeping in silence. While I wanted to give him those words, I would have hated myself for being cliché and for lying to him. I do think he will be ok—he’s always been stronger than me. However, how do I know?
Maybe that’s gift enough, the gift of not lying for the sake of something to say. Sometimes pain is just pain and there is no bandage to cover or ointment to heal.
Luckily for him, the gift alcohol brings is oblivion to what transpired while in its influence and the pain he allowed to escape.
Oblivion would be nice.

gleeful

After a rotten week, work meetings yesterday, and a late massage, I fell asleep at 9:30, which is very rare. Slept for almost nine hours. It was wonderful, but I feel like I could have slept for another nine. It was dreamless, so that was an extra added blessing.
Both books are up on Amazon and CreateSpace again, I’m glad that little glitch is over. I can now start working on some small advertising things locally. We will see if anything comes from it. Both books have two reviews each right now, which is great—I hope for a ton more, that’s the only way (unless I sell thousands, right…) that they will generate any attention. I’ve been so focused on trying to get them on-line once more, trying my scheme to raise the money for the magazine ad on Kickstarter.com (so not gonna happen), get the bff’s scrapbook done, and trying to simply function, that I haven’t been able to submit to publishers or agents in a bit (I’ve gotten two more rejections letters thus far), so that is part of the plan for this weekend.
I’m spending Monday with MD, partly for fun, partly because she’s so worried about me (which is so sweet, but I don’t like being that person)—that will be really nice and low-key. Hopefully we don’t have to talk too deeply for too long, really don’t wanna cry anymore. We’re also gonna see ‘I Am Number Four.’ I’m a little too excited about that. For once I’m more excited about the female lead. Diana Agron, from Glee! Who is my favorite character, even though she’s kinda a cheating bitch. While I’ve never cheated on someone, I can be bitch.
Okay, done for now.

pills for everything

I’m back on the full dosage of the antidepressant medication. I did this due to a friend’s urging. I hate it. I don’t want to be dependent on those stupid things any longer. However, I guess if it helps, great. I don’t know if that is the issue this time or not. Hope it helps. Maybe it will. There have been moments I’ve been on the verge of the kind of sobbing that happened the few months after he left. So far, I’ve been able to refrain. Maybe the stupid little pills will block that again. I don’t need to go through that stage of grief again.

Pet News:
My massage fish tank (85 gallons) was truly gorgeous. Filled with tons of huge, stunning goldfish of every variety. It really was one of the most beautiful goldfish tanks I’ve ever seen. In a span of less than a week, it went from being stunning to a concentration camp. I walked in one day (the day before everything was great), and half of the fishes’ fins were shredded, some already gone. I’ve seen fin rot before, but I’ve never seen anything of the like before, nothing so fast, so violent. Fifty dollars of medication later and a few days hence, all the fish are gone, dying horribly painful and debilitating deaths. Three of them were the first fish HWMNBN and I picked out years ago—they were so tiny when we got them, and they were getting huge. There is one left, but barely. It was horrible watching. They were in such pain and there was nothing I could do. I did everything the medicine told me to do, spent a ton of money. Nothing. I have almost been afraid to put my hand in to retrieve the bodies. It was like a zombie epidemic or something. It will be even less fun to give massages now without that tank to get lost in.
Dunkyn and Dolan are making progress on their diet (I should take lessons)—especially Dolan, mainly due to the fact that he hangs out with me after I feed them in the morning until I walk out the door, while Dunkyn scarfs things down while Dolan is distracted. However, neither one are limping due to obesity, so that’s good news! See, I can talk about happy things!

on the map

The past couple days, since Valentine’s night, has been one of those times that is too hard and too dark to even talk about here. Maybe some time I will, but I’m not able right now.
I’m completely lost, in nearly every sense—if not every.
I feel like the old Zelda game when Link would be in the dark castle and all he could see was the small light around him, everything else black. Each step had a chance to move you into the waiting jaws of a monster. Only one step would allow you to exit into the light.

hearts

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

To my own, and everyone else’s (I’m sure), surprise, today is not a trigger for me. HWMNBN and I never really did much on Valentine’s Day. We were both of the mind that it was just a mass-marketed ploy without much meaning—our anniversaries were our ‘Valentine’s Days.’ Therefore, today doesn’t have much hold over me. However, if I am ever in a relationship like that again, I plan on celebrating that fact any chance I get. So, today isn’t anymore of a struggle than normal—which kinda isn’t saying anything lately, but at least it isn’t worse.
This weekend was rather rough (KE, if you are uncharacteristically reading this before your birthday, stop right now). I took Friday off of work to work on KE’s 30th birthday scrapbook. I spent every spare minute with that thing—leaving me more and more behind on other things that are stressing me out. Hopefully, it will be worth it when he gets it. This weekend was tough, several HWMNBN triggers that continue to cut ever deeper, and lots of fear around custody stuff with my nephew. If you’re a prayer person—please pray for this issue on a continuing basis—more than any other I’ve requested prayer about. More than my health, more than money, even more than the return of HWMNBN. More than the books. There is nothing more important than Gavin. Nothing. Which, then, makes sense that his life, circumstances, and future are things in which I have no control or say. One more area that I have turn over to God and do my best to have trust and faith. Though you slay me… I just pray this is one area He will choose not to slay me.
I’m going out with MD for Valentine’s Day. It’s our second Valentine’s together. I’ve celebrated more Valentine’s with her than anyone else (simply because he and I never did). Look how straight I am!

Grandiose Delusions

A blog reader donated $50 to the Submerging Inferno ad project yesterday. I’m almost there! $24,450 to go! I kinda expected to have the month pass and not have any donations, so it was a real kick to see that yesterday.
I’ve been surrounded, even more than normal, by completely delusional people at work lately. Not kids, adults. 98% not employees of the school but still part of my kids’ lives. I look at them and wonder how someone can get their perspective so completely out of whack, so far away from reality. Then I look at other people who are trying to make it big as singers or models who have as much chance as a seagull or a toad. Harsh? Yeah, but true. However, they really believe they have a real shot if they can just get a break.
Those people look around at the world and think it is everyone else who is messed up, who can’t see the truth of what they believe.
The scariest part of all this to me is that. What if I’m one of those people? What if it is clear to most everyone else, but I have the true delusion that I can pull this off, see it through. Of course, there are those people who have delusions of greatness and somehow convince the world of it as well—we all know them, actors who can’t act, singers who can’t sign, writers who can’t write, but everyone believes they can.
Where is the line of believing in yourself and doing all you can to do your part to work hard for your goals and being completely self-indulgent and off your rocker?

audacious

I knew I’ve been somewhat book obsessed lately. I’m not even going to try to count the hours I’ve spent on the books—none of which has actually been writing. I skipped movies, going fun places, at times, loosing sleep, adjusting what I eat (I know!), so that I can devote more time to fighting for publication. Last night demonstrated it more than anything thus far. By the time I’d finished a massage then over four hours of my latest attempt, I was way late for bed, but…here’s the kicker…I missed Glee! Not only missed it, but didn’t even think about it. Had no idea it was on, that it was Tuesday, that there were gorgeous songs being sung while I was close to tears of frustration. Tonight, I am taking the time to watch Glee!
Last nights project is here:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/brandonwitt/submerging-inferno
Please check it out. You don’t have to donate to it, but the more clicks, the more popular it will seem, and you get to see me make a fool of myself on video. A video that turned out with my voice and lips somehow not being synchronized perfectly. You might feel like you’re watching King Kong, only with a Bear, not a Gorilla.
I continue to shock myself. I am constantly doing things I never would have dreamed of or considered before. One of which is definitely this project. I am attempting to raise a minimum of $24,500 in a little over a month. Such numbers are baffling to me. It would be like winning the lottery, and probably just as likely. This coming from the boy couldn’t/wouldn’t/can’t ask someone to move their arm over onto their side when they’re crowding me at a movie. Now I’m asking for 24K? Who am I? Desperate, I suppose. However, I also feel like I simply believe in my book that much. Delusional? Maybe. Guess I’ll find out. And, no, the 24K isn’t so that I can get a massage every day for next couple years…hmm…. Wonder how many massages that would be. Hold on a second. 400 exactly! If I didn’t tip. That sounds nice. But, no. It is get an ad in Out. In their Hot List issue this summer. Their most popular issue. The 24K will get a half page ad. 35K will get a full page ad. (For one ad! Isn’t that crazy!) As in everything else from love to books—might as well reach for the stars if you’re gonna reach at all.
I know the chances are slim, to say the least. But, as ever, I have to try. I guess if nothing else, the project will expose a few more people to the books, which isn’t bad.
And, if nothing else, at least I’m proving to myself that somewhere inside, part of me is still capable of believing in the impossible and miraculous. That’s rather surprising.

choose your hill to die on when you choose your battles

I am at war with McDonalds. Not really. But kinda. The kind of war they don’t know about. Breakfast has always been a bit of an issue with me. I hate breakfast food. At least the normal kind. The ones I do like, such as breakfast burritos from trendy restaurants are expensive, huge, and take a lot of time to have in the morning. And, once I eat a normal sized breakfast, I am ravenous the rest of the day—no idea why. I hate donuts and such for breakfast. I’d rather have cereal for dessert or something. I’d much rather have pizza or cheeseburgers or something. And my breakfasts at Starbucks are expensive and nothing but sugar. As a result, I’ve found myself compromising. I’ve been making my coffee at home much more often and then going to McDonalds and getting a single biscuit with what amounts to ¾ slice of bacon crumbled in it. This biscuit and bacon has always cost $1.03. Much better than the six or seven bucks I spend at Starbucks and I don’t feel too badly about eating it—no sugar, barely any bacon. Just enough to trick me into feeling like I’ve eaten something without triggering the gorging response most breakfasts induce in me throughout the day. This week, there is a new lady at the drive up window. Yesterday, she charged me $3.something for my bacon biscuit. After a bit of arguing, I paid her and drove off in a huff that lasted most of the day. Stupid things make me angry. I’ve heard it said that my grandfather, who was notoriously sweet, unassuming, and martyrish had a similar issue. You could stab him in the back with a sword and he’d turn around and pay your mortgage for the month. However, give him a broken toothpick and he’d be mortally offended. Maybe I’m a bit that way myself. Anyway, I went back this morning. I’ve noticed that the stupid recording that comes on when you drive up, trying to sell you their latest hip item, is often the voice of whoever is at the window, just pre-recorded. So, when a man’s voice asked me if I wanted to try their new whateveritis, I was very happy and said no, but that I’d like a biscuit with bacon. The damned woman’s voice came on and told me it would be $3.something. I argued, snow blowing in my face, into my car. She was charging me the same price as a McMuffin. You know with the egg, cheese, sausage, and muffin. I pointed this out, inquiring how my solitary bacon pieces biscuit could possibly cost the same. She responded that she was going to get her manager. I took my car and plowed into the ordering screen that was flashing her stupid McMuffin with a lot of alterations.

Not really. Although I wanted to. I simply replied that she need not bother, that I’d take my business elsewhere and not return. I’m not Lovin’ It.

I hate stupid people. Unless I’m one of them, then they’re pretty great.

too much glee

Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor
Reaching for the phone, cuz I can’t fight it anymore

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind
For me, it happens all the time

It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone, and I need you now
Said I wouldn’t call, but I’ve lost all control and I need you now

And I don’t know how I can do without
I just need you now

Another shot of whiskey, can’t stop looking at the door
Wishing you’d come sweeping in the way you did before

Guess I’d rather hurt than feel nothing at all

--I Need You Now

I had my ideal mate assigned by sign in US Weekly yesterday. A Gemini’s perfect match is a Sagittarius. Guess who is a Sagittarius.

One of those nights, it seems.
Ridiculous

grrrr

The snow outside is gorgeous today! Gorgeous! And thanks to my new tires, I’m not terrified of it! However, it is going to keep the dogs from getting a walk. I vaguely remember being a good daddy.
I’ve gotten lots of comments-not simply from the blog-about yesterday’s post. Comments that confirm that I should change my books to where they are no longer gaycentric (new word—write it down).
Whether it means I’m a fool or just a stubborn ass who is too full of his own pride and self-worth/importance, I refuse to even consider it any longer. I think my writing has value and is good the way it is. Consequences be damned? The final straw was on a new website a friend told me about, Page99test.com. One of the readers commented that he liked my writing style, but that he doesn’t like gay-themed books. Well, thanks for the backhanded compliment. You know, I can’t stand hearing about straight sex. Truly. Absolutely turns my stomach, but the vast majority of books I read, and listen to, are full of it. I don’t enjoy those aspects, but I continue to read them because I love the characters and the stories, and it is a part of those characters. I’d like the same respect.

gender bender

Even with two days of snow days, making my workweek a whopping two days, I needed the weekend desperately. It was so nice to sleep until almost nine this morning! And, while money this month is about ten times tighter then it normally is (decided to pay a little bit more than normal on my credit card bill—not sure why I did that), I’m happy to have only one massage this morning. Then the rest of the day is all about my nephew. While I miss having Saturdays for friends and dates and such, I look forward to these moments from the minute the last one ends. I can’t figure out how my love is able to grow for that kid. Doesn’t seem like it should be humanly possible. Even as I blog, I’m downloading LeapFrogJunior to my Mac so I can upload some books for him. If you have kids in your life, BTW, the LeapFrog books are rather amazing! However, at least the system I bought Gavin seems to suck the battery life instantly.
In my discouragement with the books, I’ve been contemplating different options, or different/extra step I need/should take. The thoughts I was having yesterday morning were confirmed by a dear co-worker of mine. One that I trust a ton, one that has been rather brutally honest with me in the past about my writing. She is a little over a fourth of the way through Submerging Inferno, which will be available on Amazon again in a week, and she loves it. Her husband can’t get her to put it down. She gave me two huge pieces of feedback, one about editing—which is why it won’t be available until next week—and one about the marketability. She said that no one will ever read this book because of the gay content. She said that if it were straight characters, it would get published instantly and be a success—especially since it’s gonna be a series. She, by the way, is as far as you can get from homophobic or not supportive. This came from a very good place within her. It was exactly what I’d been thinking about that morning. She said I could easily change one of the main characters to a girl, and she felt it would be a huge success.
I think she’s right.
I’ve played with the idea for a long time now. I think I might be able to pull off a pretty good career with regular books.
Here’s the deal: I love writing. I love my books. Even more, I love, love, love my characters. I no more want to sell them out then I would sell out myself. I know that my audience will be minuscule. And the gay community isn't exactly known for their love affair with reading. Nor are gay books known for much depth. With a few exceptions, they are either poorly written stories or simply an excuse to write porn. (This is a generality, I’ve read a few amazing gay authors—check out Bart Yates, wow!) One, most selfishly, I want to write what I love, what I relate to, what I’m passionate about. Two, I want to give my community something it’s never had before. Three, I think what I’ve done/will do has value.
While I really would love a career that would simply allow my to write—or at least have it be my second job instead of my third—I don’t want it at the expense the afore listed reasons.
I think it hit me hard because it was exactly what I’d been thinking—it seemed a confirmation. However, what was also a confirmation is how my heart sank when she said it. I pictured myself writing those, changing my characters, and it instantly made me not want to write. Couldn’t get a much clearer answer. Maybe one day I’ll sell out, but not yet. Not yet. Maybe I should simply write Christian fiction. I’d be able to tear genre up!
Actually, that sounds kinda fun—for lots of reasons.

gifts

After feeling rather (or very) discouraged about several things at the moment, there were two perfect little granules of love waiting for me at home. A friend gave me a link that exposes a little of my writing to a wider audience—nothing may come of it, but I’m willing to try anything, and it means a lot when people try to support your dreams. Then, I got on my favorite boy blog—Artastic Avenjer (blogspot)—and instead of gorgeous superheroes guys for a post, there was section all about Submerging Inferno, with a link to Amazon! Made my night. Even if no one buys it because of it, at least there was tons of exposure from just that one blog. From a man I’ve never even met in person. It’s been people that I never thought of that have been the most supportive—for the most part.
I’m very, very thankful. It was very much needed this week, and I can’t say thank you enough.

say cheese

Two days of snow days. Two days we have to make up. (Love how my district has no idea that we live in Colorado…) I woke up an hour late this morning, after staying up past one last night finishing fixing The Shattered Door to hopefully get it back on line by tonight. I almost didn’t take a shower, and I haven’t shaved since Saturday, I threw on some old clothes that were the closest, didn’t even put on a belt. I look like shit. Dysfunctional shit. Guess who has class pictures and staff pictures today. Wonderful.
The days off were in perfect timing with what I needed. I spent nearly every minute fixing Shattered, however, whether timing or based out of some other happenstance, I was crazy depressed. No, I didn’t stay home alone the two days. Hardly was home at all. However, my dreams of him were more vivid than typical. Crazy real. Not helpful.
It says a lot that I’m excited to be back at work, even when I have to face a mother saying I’m choking children…