Category Archives: Getting Personal

Are You Happy Now?

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I have a confession to make to all the people I know who recently got engaged, married, fell in love, moved in with someone, lost weight, got a new job, got a promotion, bought a house, car, or a major appliance.

I’m not happy for you. Any of you.

And the truth is, I haven’t been happy about anything good that’s happened for you for a long time.

I have tried to dredge up some happiness, though. Believe me, I have tried. The sad truth is that time and experience and my current state of mind has jaded me to the point that when I attempt to conjure up true joy for someone else’s bliss, all I hear are platitudes and shallow well-wishes coming from my lips. My brain is so full of snark and sarcasm that when I see social media posts from people about the awesomeness of their loved one, or how things are going so well in their relationship, or how much they love their new job or body or couch, I avoid saying anything in response because I know all that vitriol will ooze out of my cerebellum and into my fingers as I’m typing.

I hate that this is true. I hate that I am taking more joy in the stories when someone is miserable than when someone is actually happy and achieving their goals and dreams. Because I have not always been like this.

I can accept the fact that I have major narcissistic tendencies. I’m fully aware of my weaknesses. I’m very good at self-flagellation for any and all times when I’ve said the wrong thing, didn’t say the right thing, did or didn’t do something that would ease someone else’s suffering. I’ve worked hard at being kind and compassionate, because that doesn’t always come easily to me.

But this inability to exalt others is tough. It eats away at me. And it increases those feelings of wrongness.

I have been trying to get to the heart of why I feel this way. A line from “Desiderata” gave me some insight:

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve compared myself to others, whether it’s in terms of possessions, physical appearance, wealth, relationship status, or education. The compare/contrast tactic is ultimately a weapon of self-destruction. I’m working on being aware of when I’m doing this, and refocusing my attention on finding my happy place: a place that isn’t contingent on what I look like or how much money I make; a place where I want the best of everything for those I love. But the path to my happy place isn’t always easy to find, and even when I do find the path and actually get there, sometimes I wake up and discover I’m back in the not-so-happy place.

So if you don’t see me clicking Like on your Facebook post, or sending you congratulations, it’s because I’m still working on getting – and staying – in my happy place. And once I get there, I promise to send you a postcard.

 

Moxie and the Mighty ‘Mo

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Several years ago I wrote this post about being in need of a ‘mo, also known as a homosexual friend. Brief recap: I had been encouraged to find a ‘mo by someone I met at a college alumni gathering, the idea being that this ‘mo would impart wisdom and be there to support me when I’m having a meltdown at 3 a.m. I didn’t try all that hard to find one while living in SoCal, which may explain some of my poor choices in relationships and footwear.

Nearly 7 years later, I am very happy to report that I have found a ‘mo: my neighbor, Steve.* He moved in a few months ago along with his dog, Daisy*. I liked Steve the minute I met him, and the fact that we were able to have friendly, positive conversations right from the start – even when it had to do with Daisy’s barking (she’s since quieted down and has become a canine pal to me and my cats – well, Ippie, anyway) – was surely a good sign.

The more we talked the more I felt like Steve could be my ‘mo. We would have long text message conversations where we bitched about the Clydesdales, a.k.a. the women who live in the corner apartment and clomp by our apartments at all hours like it’s a runway and they are in heavy platform shoes. We talked about Steve’s decision to go vegan and I told him about a few locals I know who are big on the vegan scene. Lots of fun gossip, lots of potential bonding.

But I didn’t want to rush anything. “I think I have a ‘mo now,” I told Giles. “That’s awesome!” he said. I don’t know that he really understood my need for a ‘mo, but he is an empathetic kind of guy, so he says things like this.

Last weekend Steve & I went for coffee and I decided to pop the question.

“So, a long time ago I wrote this blog post about being in need of a ‘mo.” I started.

“What’s a ‘mo?” said Steve. I was concerned this did not bode well, but I pressed on.

“It’s a homosexual friend who will impart wisdom,” I said, quoting directly from the original post.

“I have never heard that term before,” said Steve.

“Apparently it’s a thing in SoCal.”

“Well, I’d be happy to be your ‘mo, but just to forewarn you, I am not the stereotypical homosexual.”

I jumped up and down. “That’s fine. You just need to impart wisdom. Can you do that?”

“I think so.”

Since then there’s been more gossiping, discussion about the hotness of actors in Magic Mike, the beauty of Matt Bomer, Sacramento life, and food. But my favorite conversation so far was talking a little about Tarot.

“What’s your favorite card?” said Steve.

“The Magician.” It’s all about manifestation and owning your power, so I dig it. “What’s yours?”

“The King of Pentacles.” Great choice – he’s all about practicality, wealth, stability.

I smiled. “I’d like a King of Pentacles.”

He laughed. “Girl, me too!”

Yeah, Steve is the best ‘mo ever.

 

Joe Manganiello (2nd from right), you can be my King of Pentacles anytime.

Paint It Black Friday

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My dear friend Ms. Chick recently wrote a blog post about Black Friday. After reading it, I started to comment, then realized it would make for a better blog post.

Ms. Chick’s post focuses on the madness that is Black Friday sales, and how they are starting earlier and earlier each year. The discount stores such as Wal-Mart and Kmart are fond of late Thursday sales. I know people who thrive on mingling with large crowds to get their holiday shopping done. Possibly they get an adrenaline rush from the experience. As for me, I’m not a fan of shopping on Black Friday, though I admit to occasionally hanging out at malls & shopping centers the day after Thanksgiving to people watch. I’m a fiction writer, so this constitutes research.

Where I took issue, though, is with the end of her post:

It’s not like someone has a denominational difference that would prevent them from celebrating Thanksgiving.  It’s a purely secular holiday.

 

…It’s just that is whatever you are going to buy so important that you have to give up sleep and time with family/friends in order to obtain it? Not to mention possibly trample someone? And do you really need to see a movie on Thanksgiving?  Can’t you wait until the next day or watch something at home?

The holidays are a really tough time for folks who can’t be with family or friends for whatever reason, or their family is so freakin’ dysfunctional that it’s easier to be on their own. Even before Momcat died, I wasn’t a big fan of the Thanksgiving/Christmas season: I always had high expectations, only to end up feeling let down. There were several years when I made a point of doing nothing for either holiday because I wanted the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted, and with whom I wanted. There were other years in which I spent holidays with friends and those were really fun times. Again, it’s what fiction writers call research.

What it comes down to is this: I love my family and friends, and yet during the holiday season it can be so difficult for me to love them as fully as I normally would. Spending time with them can also be difficult. This has nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. Yet being alone is just as hard, because my brain loops back through all those memories of holidays gone by and lost loved ones, which makes me feel much worse. Despite all this, I try to find ways to make the holidays pleasant for myself, because dwelling on the used-to-be’s and the remember-back-when’s can be emotionally crippling. I think that’s why I love the original version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”, because of these lines:

Someday soon we all will be together

If the fates allow

Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow

For that reason, escaping to a shopping mall or movie theatre, where I can float anonymously through a sea of humanity, sounds like a good way to muddle through.

The Five F’s of Moxie – and the One F That Is the Most F’ed of All

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Many years ago, Momcat told me about the five F’s of her life: female, fat, forty, fatigued, and fed up. At the time, I could sympathize, but I couldn’t quite empathize.

Now I can empathize. And that one F – fat – pisses me off to no end.

I am dealing with the fatigue part pretty well – giving up gluten has helped immensely with the brain fog, fatigue and tiredness I used to feel after eating. (Not to mention that sixth F, flatulence. But we don’t need to go there.) Being female, well, I’m okay with that too, though peri-menopause is a bitch. I really believe we leave the menstrual years the way we came in: with unpredictable cycles, uncontrolled mood swings, and an intense desire for sweets. Honestly, I welcome the crone years. I think it will be very liberating in the same way that being a child was so freeing. There’s nothing I can do about being forty, so I am being with it as best I can. As for being fed up, I journal, blog, tweet, meditate, and listen to self-hypnosis MP3s to help me not get so frustrated. It does make a difference.

But the F I cannot abide is fat. A week ago I saw a picture of myself at an event and was so disgusted. What the hell happened to my body? I never was blessed with fast metabolism, but really?

I admit that I haven’t exercised regularly for about 3 months now. I am the kind of person who needs to commit to a class and pay money in order to get into a steady pattern with working out. I will work out at home occasionally, but it’s not something I’m in the habit of doing. This summer has been very difficult financially, so the exercise classes I’d normally be paying for (aerobics and lap swimming at public pools) I couldn’t afford.

And apparently giving up soda (which happened accidentally on purpose around the same time as the gluten-free thing) doesn’t make a huge difference unless you drink more than 1 can a day. It’s been nearly 3 months and my weight hasn’t dropped at all. This pisses me off too. I have read that going gluten-free sometimes means you put on weight because you’re eating gluten-free processed foods that are higher in fat/calories/sugar than their glutentastic counterparts. Now, I admit to doing this, and to sometimes forgetting that gluten free does not mean fat/calorie free. But how is this fair? Why do all those gluten eaters get to have all the gluten AND the skinny jeans, too?

So now I’m the angry fat chick reading tweets and blog posts and Facebook updates from friends who are all losing weight and they are so happy and I want to punch them all in their skinny little faces. Except I don’t know how to throw a decent punch, unless you count Tae Bo videos or cardio kickboxing classes.

I will get my shit together and release some weight. Notice I said “release” and not “lose”. I’m not going to lose weight, mind you, because if I lose it, I may go looking for it again. It’s happened before. But all you skinny bitch friends of mine – and you know who you are – if you see me giving you the evil eye, or perhaps shooting a blow dart in your general direction, you know why.

My Declaration of Independence: the 2012 Edition

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As many of my semi-regular readers know, every year I use Independence Day as an opportunity to declare my own personal independence from something. (You can read the background here.) Frequently I use the text written by our Founding Fathers as the basis for my own declaration. This year I’m doing it a little differently. Probably because this year’s declaration is harder for me, but, as I am discovering, it’s necessary for my health and well being.

I’m declaring my independence from gluten.

This is not about me jumping on the Paleo bandwagon – I’m way too picky about meat and fish to go full Paleo – or following what seems to be a trend among some circles. This is about my health, and my belief that Momcat’s early death was the result of undiagnosed celiac disease.

A quick gluten and celiac disease primer:

  • Gluten is a protein composite found in foods processed from wheat and related grains, such as barley and rye.
  • Gluten adds elasticity to dough – it gives bread its chewy texture and helps it rise.
  • Gluten is often added to foods as a stabilizer, or to add protein.
  • Celiac disease is a chronic, hereditary, autoimmune disease. If someone with celiac disease eats something containing gluten, their small intestine becomes inflamed and damaged. They may experience diarrhea, nausea, or bloating. And they end up not absorbing necessary nutrients from food, all because their body can’t process it.
  • Someone who is undiagnosed with celiac and continues to eat gluten may become more susceptible to other autoimmune disorders, such as fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome, and rheumatoid arthritis. They may have unexplained skin rashes that do not go away. They may have gall bladder, liver, or kidney problems. They may suffer from depression, anxiety, or other mental health issues. They may have problems with their teeth. Their hair may thin or fall out. They may be constantly tired or fatigued. (You can find a more comprehensive list here.)

Momcat had a lot of the above symptoms for years. A month before she died, I asked her if she’d ever been tested for celiac. She muttered something about the test coming up negative. But anyone who’s ever been to the doctor and had blood tests know that sometimes tests aren’t accurate, and that diagnostic tests, especially for food allergies, tend to improve over the years .

I’ll never know for sure if she had celiac. But I know how I feel when I eat a lot of glutentastic products:

  • I get really sleepy. I call gluten my natural sedative because if I eat bread or pasta at dinner, I am guaranteed to be asleep in two hours or less.
  • I get weird rashes on my body.
  • I have a lot of gastric distress: bloating, abdominal pain, and what I will not-so-delicately refer to as poo problems.

And I know that Momcat’s sisters and my cousins suffer from a lot of the same medical issues Momcat did: fibromyalgia, arthritis, fatigue, allergies, asthma, high blood pressure. And none of them have gone gluten-free.

At this point in time, I can’t afford to get tested for celiac. But when I look at all of the evidence, it tells me that declaring my independence from gluten is the thing to do.

But giving up gluten is so damn hard. Those of you who love tortellini and cinnamon rolls and burritos and pizza and bruschetta understand this. Because even if you stay away from gluten, and you dutifully eat all the gluten-free substitutes (many of which are quite good), there are moments when gluten beckons to you and says, “Oh, come on, one little piece of pepperoni pizza won’t kill you. Look how thin the crust is! All the gluten has leaked out. Honest.”

I think of gluten as my bad boyfriend, the dark, mysterious guy with the six-pack abs, the guy who promises that this time he will treat me right. (In my fantasy, gluten looks like Joe Manganiello.) So I let him spend the night and wake up the next morning, all alone, feeling as if a fleet of moving vans ran over me, then shifted into Reverse and ran over me again. And there’s no note, no kiss goodbye, nothing. That’s because gluten is a selfish bastard.

Joe Manganiello, actor, True Blood, Magic Mike

What gluten would look like if it was a person.

So I’m going to try extra hard to live independently of gluten. But if the real Joe Manganiello knocks on my door, offering me a latte and a gluten-free cinnamon roll from Mariposa Bakery, I am so going to hit that.

 

 

 

Headed to Galax

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On Monday night I was 100% funded for my trip to Galax to research my novel.

Today I bought my plane ticket and made my hotel reservation for Galax.

All thanks to you nice people, the ones with the big hearts and wallets. The ones who believe in my ability to write and publish The Girl from Galax.

That means a lot. A LOT.

So thank you very very much. I am moved and honored by your generosity and words of encouragement.

A few people have said, “Wait! I missed this! Can I still donate?”

The answer is yes. Everything has gone up in price since I started the crowdfunding campaign, so your donations will help cover all the incidentals.

**Click this button to be taken directly to PayPal to donate.**

 

And here are the links to find out all the details of what I was doing and why I was doing it.

The Galax Crowdfunding Project: Final Days & Updates

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The generosity of friends, family, blogger buddies, and others has been overwhelming. Like tears in my eyes kind of overwhelming.

As of 1:55 pm Pacific Time today, I am $575 away from my goal.

If you’ve been intending to donate, but have been waylaid by work commitments, financial crunches, or were trapped under something heavy (though I sincerely hope that wasn’t the case), there’s still time. I’ll continue taking PayPal donations through the weekend.

Rather than rehash everything, here are some links where you can get the details:

**Click this button to be taken directly to PayPal to donate.**

Here’s the current rewards table:

Level Donation Amount Reward Number Available Awards Remaining
1 $5 Postcard from Galax (June – July 2012) 21 19
2 $10 Level 1 reward + access to a private slide show of images from my trip to Galax (July 2012) 15 12
3 $25 Level 1-2 rewards + listing on Acknowledgements page in novel (August 2012) 16 10
4 $30 Level 1-3 rewards + signed copy of finished novel (August 2012; novel release TBD) 10 4
5 $60 Level 1-4 rewards + a character named after you in the novel (August 2012; novel release TBD) 2 0
6 $100 Level 1-5 rewards + a private reading of an excerpt with you and your friends at your home (December 2012; novel release TBD) 2 0

A few things to note:

  • For those who donate $25, I have 3 more CDs to give away. These CDs are an unofficial soundtrack to The Girl from Galax as they are tunes that motivate and inspire my writing.
  • PayPal accepts MasterCard, Visa, AmEx, and Discover, so you don’t have to set up a special account with them in order to donate.
  • If you prefer to send a check, please email me for my mailing address.

Again, my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has supported this project. Your donations, Facebook posts, tweets and retweets, and other promotional efforts mean so much to me.

FAQ on my Galax Crowd Funding Project

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With just one week two days left to raise $855 $830 $820 $785 $715 for my novel research trip to Galax, I thought I’d answer a few of the questions that have popped up from several of you who have read about my crowd funding project.

What made you pick Galax as the setting for your novel?

I grew up on the east coast, just outside of Washington, D.C. Over the years, I took several cross-country drives with Pops. On one of those trips, we took a southern route and drove past an exit sign that read Galax (pronounced gay-lacks) Virginia. I loved the look and feel of the name – Galax sounded so exotic and special to me. When I started researching Galax, I discovered it was the perfect place to set a story about a woman in search of big adventures. As home of the oldest fiddle convention in the world, Galax becomes a place where it’s very possible that a record producer from California would visit in search of the next big thing.

Have you written a novel before?

Technically, yes – when I was in junior high school. It was a YA romance called Triangles and I wrote it longhand in a spiral notebook. I think the only person who ever read it was my best friend Alice. I’m not sure what happened to that story, but if it’s still around it’s probably in my parents’ attic.

What happens if you don’t raise all the money?

I’m still going to Galax, because I’m committed to finishing this novel. My family has offered me a plane ticket if necessary. The money raised by May 19 will help pay for my hotel, gas, and food.

Do you have an agent?

Not yet, but I have some very good leads on agents, and the support of a few published authors.

Do you have other writings I can read?

Yes! You can read my flash fiction piece, “What the Beautiful Girls Do”, at In the Snake, an online literary journal. If you’d like to read some of my non-fiction writing, you can view my portfolio by clicking here.

I don’t want to use PayPal, but I’d like to donate. Can I send you a check?

Absolutely – and thank you in advance for your support! It’s much appreciated. Send me an email and I will send you the address where to send your check.

I really want to help, but I’m strapped for cash right now.

I completely understand – and you can still help me get to Galax! There are two things you can do:

  1. Share a link to this post on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Stumble Upon, Reddit, whatever social network you use to share messages with others.
  2. Email the link to your friends, family, colleagues, dogsitter, florist…you get the idea.

Click the button below to donate via PayPal. Thanks!

UPDATE & BONUS REWARD: Help Me Get to Galax to Research My Novel

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5/14/2012 5/16/2012 5/17/2012 UPDATE: Only $855 $830 $785 $715 and one week three two days to go! Got some great news last week – I won first prize in a local short short fiction competition. To celebrate, the next 10 8 7 people who donate $25 will also receive an Girl from Galax “soundtrack.” This CD features songs from Lucinda Williams, Dixie Chicks, Aerosmith, and other artists that inspire my writing of this novel. 

If you are unable to donate, please share this post with your friends, family, Facebook friends, Twitter followers, dry cleaner, pool boy, pizza delivery guy, accountant…you get the idea. Thanks! – Moxie

Many of you know that I’ve been working on a novel for some time now. Lately I’ve been feeling the push to get the first draft completed, but in order to do that, I need a little help.

The Girl from Galax is a coming-of-thirty story about Belle Mackey, a married waitress who’s far from living the dream in a small town. When a young, attractive music producer walks into the diner where she works, Belle finally gathers the courage to leave the only life she’s ever known in search of new adventures.

Set in 1997 in Galax, Virginia, just eight miles from the North Carolina border, this novel will take readers along for the ride with Belle as she makes her way from her job at Mayva’s Café all the way to Los Angeles. You can read a brief excerpt from the current draft here.

I started work on the novel in spring 2010, and positive feedback from fellow writers has encouraged me to continue. While online research is great, I want to visit Galax to immerse myself in its culture: meet the locals, explore the town, see what life is really like there.

That’s where you come in. In order to make this trip happen, I need $1275 to cover my travel expenses:

  • airfare to and from the DC area
  • hotel and food in Galax for three (3) days
  • gas for the trip from the Washington DC area to Galax, a 335 mile drive
  • petsitting fees for my cats while I’m away

And to show how much I appreciate any and all financial help I receive, here’s what you get in return for helping me get to Galax:

Level Donation Amount Reward Number Available Awards Remaining
1 $5 Postcard from Galax (June – July 2012) 21 20
2 $10 Level 1 reward + access to a private slide show of images from my trip to Galax (July 2012) 15 12
3 $25 Level 1-2 rewards + listing on Acknowledgements page in novel (August 2012) 16 13
4 $30 Level 1-3 rewards + signed copy of finished novel (August 2012; novel release TBD) 10 4
5 $60 Level 1-4 rewards + a character named after you in the novel (August 2012; novel release TBD) 2 1
6 $100 Level 1-5 rewards + a private reading of an excerpt with you and your friends at your home (December 2012; novel release TBD) 2 0

To donate, just click the PayPal button below. I’ll be collecting funds through May 19 and will keep you updated as to my fundraising progress.

If you like what you read, I’d much appreciate you passing along a link to this post via Facebook, Twitter, G+, or any other social network.

Thank you so very much for supporting me and my writing!

Taking the Long Way Around

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Since I was a kid, I have always gotten a little maudlin in the week leading up to my birthday. Mentally I was on track to be feted and honored in spectacular ways, showered with adoration and gifts. Then the actual day would arrive and it was always a letdown. Celebrations never seemed big or grandiose enough. Presents fell short in some way: it was the wrong color or size, it was a book/movie/record I already owned, it showed that the giver had no sense of my likes and dislikes. Someone would attempt to surprise me and the control freak in me would get upset. One year I caught my high school friends starting to decorate my locker and I demanded they stop. I still remember the hurt, disappointed looks they gave me.

I still struggle with pre-birthday depression. Now that Momcat is gone, my grief over losing her too soon is added to my emotional cocktail of regret, disappointment, and anger. I try to fight it and get excited about my birthday, make plans to do fun things. But sometimes you cannot fight the mean reds: they demand attention, a few tears, maybe an extra hour or two curled up in bed.

The thing about the mean reds is that they are based on fear, as Holly Golightly tells us. The frustrating part is that a trip to Tiffany doesn’t always make the fear go away. What I’ve found over the last year, though, is that the really awesome thing about getting to forty is my growing acceptance of what is and what should never be (to quote Led Zeppelin). Releasing my fear is an ongoing process, but  when combined with my ever-growing awareness that time is fleeting, it’s much easier to release those fears.

Last year I said that being fully engaged and present in every moment is the best gift I can give myself. I still believe that. And over the past year I have learned that it’s very unhelpful to beat myself up for all the moments when I have been afraid to stretch myself. What is helpful is to go do the big scary thing, whatever that might be, and accept the fact that the worst thing that can happen is nothing. It’s very much like Dorothy pulling aside the curtain and discovering the wizard is just a little man with a big machine.

Over the past few days I have been thinking a lot about this song by the Dixie Chicks. T-Wizzle gave me this CD and I listened to it many times in my car as I drove to a job I hated. This song has even more relevance to me now, because I have taken the long way to get where I am at today. And you know what? With all its struggles and fears, I like it here. I like it a lot.