Tag: 30 days 2023

Day 19: Today the Sky Is…

…trying to kill us all as it has been for a couple of weeks now, but we got a moment’s respite this afternoon. While my roommate and I were safely in the Alamo Drafthouse air conditioning watching Mission: Impossible, a tiny patch of rain made its way into our area of Austin and it’s been raining off and on since. Walking out of the theater the petrichor was so strong it nearly knocked the breath out of me. The temperature was a good five or six degrees cooler, like paradise.

The Sun has been punishing this month – the sky that blue so intense it hurts your eyes. But at least today there was a rainbow. As much as I love to see those, and as much as I wanted to enjoy the brief moment of relief from the heat, the thought occurred: This is probably the coolest sumer of the rest of our lives.

First, since we’ve reached the halfway mark of July, let’s see where we are:

Today’s topic was a substitute for the original, which was “my Patronus.” I choose not to engage with Rowling’s work anymore out of a) outrage and b) love of my trans friends, so, I needed a new term – and “spirit animal” is a Native American phrase I’m not comfortable stealing either, so I remembered once a friend called a particular cat their “soul kitty,” and thought, that’s what I want to use.

Now there are two ways to go with that – an individual animal that was precious to me, or an animal out in the world that I love and perhaps identify with.

For the first I would reach into my still-grieving heart and tell you about Owen, my panda cat, who died two years ago after a long illness I didn’t identify until it was too late. He was a huge cat, not just fat but huge. He was grouchy and snuggly and I could pick him up and do anything I wanted with him; he was just an absolute love, and just typing this is making my eyes burn. I adored that cat for eleven years, from the day someone gave him to me (covered in fleas, lol) to that last moment in the vet’s office that completely shattered me. I still cry almost every time I see his picture, which is why I’m not posting one here. My sweet chonk. I love Darcy, our latest kitty, to a ridiculous degree, and I’ve loved other cats like my Stella and Cosmo, but if I had to call one my soul animal, it would be my Boogerfish.

For the second, much less sadly, I would 100% say pigs! I love pigs! They were one of the reasons I went vegan, learning about not only their torture and horrifying deaths in animal agriculture, but also learning that they’re smart (they can play video games, and are said to be smarter than dogs or toddlers), have complex emotional lives, and, like fat women, have been maligned as lazy and sloppy and gross when they are none of those things, just based on what they look like. One of my online usernames is Piggy Stardust. And, knowing how much I love them, one of my bestest good friends brought me back a pig ornament from England that I used in a spell to help me stick confidently to my vegan practice.

It was inevitable that I’d get behind, I suppose – at least I had this weekend to catch back up! My mental weather has been stormy the last few days so, once I realized how morose and crappy I was feeling, I decided not to inflict any more of that on you guys. 😀 I apologize for the post complaining about my career – that’s an example of how I think when my depression works the graveyard shift, as the songwriter says.

Anyway, let’s catch up!

Day 13: Something I’ve Always Wanted to be Good At

I’m good at a lot of things. I’m a good writer (sometimes awesome), I can bake deliciously, I can draw and letter (not nearly as well as I’d like, but well enough for what I do with my art), I can build miniatures (some of my construction ends up pretty shoddy but it always seems to look great by the time it’s in the house – plus I’ve only been doing it for a year, so I think I’m doing pretty well). I’m very good at my day job (I basically start businesses for people, including nonprofits). I make all kinds of things.

No matter how great you are at how many things, though, there are always those “but if only…” skills and talents. Writers wish they could draw. Musicians wish they could write. Actors and writers both wish they got a decent deal with studios. (Stand with WGA-SAG-AFTRA!) We all want to do what we don’t already do even if what we already do is amazing.

I’d still like to play piano, though. I’ve wanted to do something musical my whole life – sing, which I do anyway even though I can’t hold a tune very well; or play an instrument, which has always taken time and money I didn’t have or wasn’t willing to devote. That’s why I always write musicians – I can’t play but I can write! (Well, that, and violinists are inherently sexy. I don’t make the rules.)

I’ve also always wanted to learn Spanish, but fool I am I took French in high school and college, little of which I remember now, merde. I can still learn Spanish if I put my mind to it. It would be so useful! Not to mention most of my coworkers are of Mexican descent and banter in Spanish all the time, and I’d love to eavesdrop on their conversations, because I am a nosy Scorpio.

Day 14: A Weird Thing I Do When I’m Alone

I talk to myself. And yeah, everyone talks to themselves, but not everyone runs the dialogue from their novels aloud in character when they’re alone. That’s why my dialogue sounds like it does, I say it all out loud, while imagining the scene playing out. It’s a utilitarian form of playpretend, I suppose.

I also sometimes narrate what I’m doing in the kitchen as if I were hosting a cooking show. I almost always do that in some weird half-assed accent like snooty British or dreadful, dreadful Scottish. Back when I let my cats sit on the bar while I cooked I would explain the process to them. I still do that with the dog sometimes.

Day 15: An Unsent Letter

Dear xxxxxx,

I do not regret ending things with you, as I was not happy at all. What I said was true – I give the impression that I’m cool with polyamory in my writing, but in real life, I have yet to see it work without painful implosion. I don’t think it’s wrong, just very wrong for me! The whole situation was untenable for me, and the fact was I didn’t love you nearly enough for either of us.

However.

I was such an asshole. I didn’t mean to be! I don’t know how to do relationships, and at least back then I was not good at hard conversations. I run screaming from confrontation of any kind, to this day, but you deserved much better than how I handled things. I am profoundly sorry. I’m glad that you were able to do better.

Best of all things to you,

Sylvan

Day 16: 3 Celebrity Crushes

Hmmmmm let’s see. I still suffer from a massive ladyboner for Tom Hiddleston. He has that tragic poet kind of vibe in most of his roles, and in general I think of a character as sexy before the real person. Let’s face it, what can we really know about someone whose job is to convince us they are someone else? You can know a fictional character, though. World-weary vampire (Only Lovers Left Alive), damaged inventor (Crimson Peak), broken god (MCU), bratty prodigal turned king (The Hollow Crown), anguished vicar (The Essex Serpent), YUM.

By the same token, nothing against Tom Sturridge, but while I have zero interest in the actor, I want to climb Dream of the Endless like K2 and plant a goddamn flag.

And while I consider myself more or less heterosexual, I have two words for you: Rachel Weisz.

(Real or imagined.)

In my current life situation I think a great day would be waking up around 11am, preferably in the first blush of autumn when it’s cool but not cold and the wind has an electricity to it that instantly wakes me up from the inside out. I’d lay there and snuggle the cats for a while, then finally roll out of bed.

I’d have an iced coffee and possibly some breakfast; then I’d go out to a coffee shop, perhaps with my friend Nan, and write for a while. My roomie L and I would go to an afternoon movie at the Alamo Drafthouse (I haven’t been to a movie in…this whole year?), then maybe do a bit of shopping and definitely go somewhere for giant milkshakes (someplace that has ones I can drink too).

Now at this point the day could end one of two ways: A gathering at the house with all my near-and-dears and a very large pitcher of sangria and/or Mexican mules; or a quiet evening in, making something on my table in the living room, while L and I watch a marathon of new TV episodes (Strange New Worlds would be my preference right now) or movies. The party would be fabulous because I wouldn’t have to choose just one lovely person to share my great day with – I could have them all! But then again, just making things, or writing, or reading at home, maybe with one of the aforementioned adult beverages or just a cup of coffee or chai, sounds pretty damn good too. Either way I’d go to bed knowing I didn’t have to get up early, and fall asleep when my body decided to without stress.

Oooh, and it would come up a thunderstorm that night – nothing violent, just wonderful sky music to fall asleep to.

Sure, there are more ideal days I could imagine, but this is what I feel is realistic enough that I don’t roll my eyes thinking about it. True wealth, I have decided here in my 40s, is having a life you don’t constantly want to run away from, and enough money not to be scared all the time. Give me both of those conditions and I could probably have a great day doing just about anything.

Rather than saying obvious things like petrichor, coffee, bookstores, and baby heads (It’s the heads that smell good, right? In my experience babies aren’t purveyors of appealing scents), I think I’ll be more specific.

One

I love the smell that is released from my laptop bag after I’ve been at a coffee shop for several hours. That intense espresso aroma means one of two things: Either I’ve been writing, or I’ve been hanging out with friends (or both). Either of those is a lovely thing, so it’s a lovely smell.

Two

I like the smell of gloss Mod Podge. Most people seem to think I’m insane for this, but weird smells tend to please me, like hot tar and asparagus pee.

Three

I love vanilla extract. I use it in baking the way many people use garlic in cooking – with reckless abandon and contempt for the accepted standard. The smell just makes me happy; the idea that people use the term “vanilla” to mean “boring” mystifies me. Why?

The vanilla orchid is a climbing vine that only grows in certain climates and on certain trees. The plants don’t start sprouting beans until they’re 3 years old; and then they bloom for ONE DAY and have to be pollinated either carefully by hand or naturally by one type of bee, within 12 hours. In the wild only about 1% of flowers are ever pollinated. They can’t be 100% sure which bees do it because no one has ever seen a vanilla flower being pollinated in the wild. (These bees are very tiny.)

To get vanilla beans that are usable you have to lay them out in the sun to “kill” them (so the pod doesn’t keep growing), which also gives them their brown color. They’re then bundled up in wool or other fabric and sweated in the heat of the day; this ferments them and brings out the flavor and scent, but then they have to be dried so they won’t rot in transit. Then they’re stored for six months in the dark to fully develop the scent and flavor.

There are several major varieties of vanilla based on location that each smell and taste a little different. (Bourbon vanilla, which you may have heard of, has nothing to do with booze; it was named after Bourbon island, now called Reunion) Mexican vanilla is my very very favorite though you have to be careful where you get it – some of the less legit producers don’t use real vanilla beans, but tonka beans, which can kind of kill you in large doses. That scent of old books? Vanillin, which plays a major part in making vanilla smell like vanilla, is found in wood; most imitation vanilla is made with paper pulp.

I have yet to find a baked good that is not improved with a little vanilla, even if you can’t fully taste it…it’s there, and it’s making things more awesome. Sorry, but chocolate, while a wonderful thing, does not have that kind of mojo.

(I went to culinary school and also memorized entire seasons of Alton Brown’s Good Eats.)

I got a day behind, sorry! Yesterday I got hit with a huge sleep.

On this day in 2013 I was working a temporary day job getting people get their kids on the Children’s Health Insurance Program.

I officially started writing the sixth Shadow World book.

I went to Starbucks to get some writing done, apparently (either that or Epoch Coffee, it’s hard to tell from my Facebook posts, which is the only source of information I really have for that long ago).

It was the summer I saw Star Trek Into Darkness like five times and wanted to do naughty things to a certain British actor’s voice (and his forearms – apparently I’m an arm girl, I did not know that until then, lol) We were also still in the Sherlock days, long before it had a chance to start sucking. Matt Smith was still the Doctor. The Vampire Diaries was still around. What an era!

Oh, and I learned a new phrase from a friend regarding the above Brit and one’s reaction to attractive people: “There’s a trembling in my lady garden!”

I was trying to figure out where the line falls between being informed about world events and being unhealthily obsessed with the downfall of civilization – oh, my sweet Summer child, just you wait.

But as for July 11, or even July 10 when this post was supposed to go up, not much happened. I went to work, came home, fretted about writing, did some writing, and as far as I can tell that was it!

Five of these are lies – I’ve actually done them. Can you guess which ones?

Never have I ever…

• Flown overseas
• Been married
• Been pregnant (purposefully or otherwise)
• Seen Casablanca
• Changed a diaper
• Been to a Disney park
• Graduated from college
• Gutted a fish
• Ridden in a limo
• Pet a raccoon
• Painted a self-portrait
• Ridden in an ambulance
• Had a nose piercing
• Broken an arm
• Read Jane Eyre
• Done mushrooms
• Written pornographic fan fiction
• Given a sermon at church
• Spoken at a funeral
• Written about dragons

(I almost forgot to do today’s post! Weekends are such a schedule-killer for me.)

REDACTED FOR GENERAL WHININESS. APOLOGIES. What was on my mind was a little too self-pitying, upon review.