Marissa Turner

Oh, poetry reference!

The last few days have been jam packed busy for me.  I moved on Saturday (you should convoy across a few states in a small car with a U-Haul trailer sometime, it’s a lot of fun), unpacked on Sunday, returned said trailer, and have been settling into the new place since. 

A new place calls for new hair, so a friend of a friend (and now one of my friends) came by, and lopped about twelve inches (real inches, not man inches) off my hair and it’s now above my shoulders for the first time in four years I think.  I don’t hate the heat so much anymore

And hard candies make the world a better place.  Especially root beer ones.  Go ahead, try one, tell me you don’t feel like smiling more often.

Mention of smiling, children are much more likely than an adult to smile in the morning.  I am going to try to smile every morning from now on.

Thunder Butt is settling into the new place very well; she has two children to play with and a yard she can run in (she likes to sniff out the bunny trails), and there is even an inflatable pool.  I’m trying to get her to stop liking the pool so much, she might pop it.

The drive was long, my butt went numb somewhere around Pembroke and it just got feeling back into it today.

I have no idea how people did that kind of crap in a covered wagon with livestock, dozens of kids running around, and no possible chance of a hot shower anywhere.

As a side note, I have an idea for a Clio short story.

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Cyndra meets Cliodhna.  Dead bodies ensue.

Maybe I should look into professional help- this whole killing people thing cannot be good for my psyche.

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I was afraid to log in yesterday; I’ve been getting a lot of emails about spam comments left for me on here, all of them advertising one of two things: porn or a larger penis.  Since I do not have a penis, and I’m not about to throw some porn up on here for the under 18 crowd to find, I’ve been trying to figure out how to have spam comments deleted straight off instead of having to wade through them.

It’s been running 90 degrees or hotter down here, which means I’ve got to be out the door before 0600 to get Thunder Butt out for her walk or it’s too damn hot to take her anywhere other than an air conditioned track.  Which there isn’t one.

I overslept today, and took my own walk after one p.m.  Stupid me.  In my defense, I did take a large bottle of water with me, and kept hydrated, but now I’ve got a heat headache from hell that is threatening to have my head coming off at the dotted line.

Reason for having overslept is that I was up late working on a new story.  Like the werewolf and the vampire don’t take up enough time, I had to start a new one.  What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.  Either that, or an idiot, but I’ll just go with glutton for now.

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I’ve got one more thing to do to finish up my packet for clinical, and then I’m done until next month.  In my time off, I’m going to knit, write, clean, cook, run errands… can I go back to school before the quarter starts?  School is easier than being an adult.

It’s nice to be able to sit down and write and just let it flow instead of worrying I’m going to go over my ‘break time’ and end up writing while I should be studying.  Of course, not watching the clock while I’m writing meant I was up until 2 a.m. writing, but I got six pages done on Cliodhna in longhand (well, technically twelve as I count the front and back as one page) done and ready for transfer into the computer.  I have a few for Cyndra as well, but she’s taken a back seat for now, and doesn’t seem to be complaining about it.

Weather here has been a little crazy.  Rain and cold, then hot and humid, then wet and hot, and now it’s just baked and dry.  I’m not sure if I’m living in Georgia, or a wet/dry sauna that is just very confused about what it wants to be.

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I’m up before the sun.  It’s always a strange feeling for me to look out the window and it still be dark; my brain says go back to bed, but I’ve got to be up and moving if I want to be somewhat human by the time I get to the college.

I think we should change the name of ‘morning’ to something a little less depressing.  People are executed at dawn… it’s the end of the weekend… it’s a sad thought, morning.  Just ask Romeo and Juliet.

Cliodhnaand I are getting along once again; I still don’t understand how someone who lives in my head can be so damn argumentative.  She’s in my skull!  I’ve got an idea for a short story that is itching to be written, but, short of taking notes, I haven’t done anything with it yet.  I just don’t have the time. 

Between classes, writing, and knitting, and the wife thing, just not going to happen. 

Can I talk to someone about getting an extension on our days?  30 hours should just about do it.

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I’m pretty sure women/girls the world over swooned when Patrick Swayze came out to do the mambo with Patty in that pink dress of hers.  (Which I desperately wanted one, but my Barbie got one instead.)

And you’re never too old to dance around you apartment to Otis Redding’s Love Man.

And who hasn’t done this?  UPG got only slightly pissed when they went to open the chow hall only to discover the lawn littered with their sleds, which instead of being neat and clean, were covered in snow and dirt and boot prints.  And here my mother thought I went to class.

Well, she thought that until today probably, when she reads this and will learn differently.

I didn’t go see the movie with D. yesterday; we decided Savannah was too far to drive and we’ll wait until it comes to town. 

Cliodhna #2 is coming well, just slow.  Which is good; I learned my lesson from the tortoise and the hare when I was a small child.  Too bad for me she’s gotten a mind of her own lately and is not doing anything at all that I want her too.  It’s hard for me to sit here and let someone else pilot when I’m used to being captain of my ship.

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I celebrated Earth Day last month by helping D. plant her flower garden.   Which I’d never done before.  Garden I mean.  So it was interesting.  And I found out I was allergic to tree sap. 

Today is another Earth Day.  Not that I’m complaining, the more aware we are of how screwed up the planet is, the better chance we have of fixing some of the wrong.

D. and I are heading into Savannah to see the Disneynature movie Earth.  For some reason, it’s not showing at the theatre in town. 

I worked out a scene last night that, while needed, made me realize that Clio isn’t as perfect as I thought she was.  Let me rephrase that; I know she’s not perfect, but I didn’t realize she’s as flawed as she is.  There, that makes more sense.  While a necessary point, it wasn’t one I wanted to make.

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A friend of mine told me I was crazy.  “But you’re fun crazy, not horse head in the bed crazy.”  It’s a sign of true affection when they can say something like that, and I don’t take offense.

Got a few more scenes of Clio #2 banged out, and others plotted out.  I used to not be able to do that, plan ahead with my writing.  If I did that, I’d end up over-plotting and then killing off my idea before it could take root in my brain.

And I’m running out of room to bury the bodies.

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I know that several people hate the movie, but I can’t get enough of Donnie Darko.  I think it’s the six-foot demonic bunny. 

After what felt like months of way-too-hot-for-this-time-of-year weather, Mother Nature has decided to make the Savannah area a new lake.  My back yard is nothing but a huge puddle, and my dog refuses to set one foot off the patio to do her business.  Thank god for a high powered water hose. 

Writing is coming along nicely, just in time for me to need to take a break from it.  I start classes next week, and no offense to Clio and the gang, but graduating takes top spot over the book for the next few months.  I need some way to support my writing habit, and sadly, looking cute while drinking coffee doesn’t earn me enough money to do so.  It’d be awesome if it could, but I have to live in reality about the whole bill pay thing.

The instructor I have this time around is the same one I had for Med. Term., and that woman doesn’t fuck around.  You finish what you need, you take the test, and move on.  Which is great since we have to cram so much into such a short amount of time.  However, it also means that my nose is not allowed to be buried in any other book aside from school books. 

A friend of mine, Macarena, is having to quit smoking.  He’s at risk for left sided heart failure, which is not something to mess with.  So, he’s gotta give up the cancer sticks.

He’s tried to quit before, and during the withdrawal, he threw a Private through a wall.  No, I’m not kidding.  He can’t stand stupidity when he is smoking, and when he’s got a nic fit, it’s a thousand times worse.  Of course, he was trying to quit while in Iraq, which is only slightly harder than trying to bail water out of the Titanic as she was going down. 

I’m tempted to start a pool to see how long it takes before he throws someone else through a wall.

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Cliodhna is in a head space right now that is not good.  It’s all my fault for putting her there, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad for her. 

And, just like me, she handles stress in two ways.  Drinking heavily.  Or never getting out of bed again. 

So I combined the two and let her take a bottle of Johnny Walker Red to bed.  I’m not a complete bitch you know.

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