It seems like lifetimes have gone by since I last posted. Lifetimes. Sometimes there are lifetimes in single days. There have been lots of single days like that in the last couple of months. I’ve gotten no writing done.
But the fact is, I think about writing all the time. I teach writing, tutor writing, proof, edit, and format for people. But the actual writing part somehow always gets pushed to the back burner. Don’t get me wrong; I have ideas, so many, many ideas. Whole universes in my head.
Life intervenes. Bills to pay. Teaching to do (with a schedule that changes every five weeks, and takes adapting to–I’m learning). Grading. I have a full-time teaching gig these days. Organizing, car-pooling, babysitting, groceries, housecleaning, car maintenance, the occasional lunch with friends, repairing computers (Windows machines, obviously), and vacuum cleaners. Tending to animals, and planning my spring garden adventure (expect more about this). Trying to keep up with the whirring political season—who’s bullshitting who today. Trips to the ER, broken cars. Sleep—well, sleep is overrated.
By the time I get home from work, I’m weary. My brain seeks distraction from the hours of student interactions. And I sit, don’t even read, just sit. Sometimes I think, I should blog about this, or that. But I know I can’t. I know it would upset people in my life, kids, and their exes. Not that I care about exes—see there it is, I’d like to add something about current partners here, but can’t without upsetting the delicate balance in my life. But it’s stifling.
I have some TV shows that I like so I’v watched them… Warehouse 13: Really? REALLY? SyFy is going to do half seasons? What is that about? The next episode for this season doesn’t air until April? Fuck you, Syfy! I am going to have to re-watch the beginning of the season to keep it all straight… what the hell? And they missed a week in the first half of the season. Although the addition of Brent Spiner is great. Downton Abbey doesn’t kick in until January. Damn it—but I am excited about Shirley MacClaine. Midsomer Murders, I watched all that iTunes and Netflix have to offer, twelve seasons. I am missing 20+ episodes. MI5? I watched ‘em all. Sherlock and Being Human (the British version) too. I have now officially seen every episode of every Star Trek ever made. Black Books was good comic relief, so was The IT Crowd, and of course, Doc Martin.
I watched Doctor Who as a kid, in the 60’s, on PBS; yes, I was that geek. It was ok. I always thought the British actors were trying to be Shakespearean, trying too hard. Always so very serious, almost dour. I watched it in the 70’s, the Fourth Doctor, and thought it was sort of ostentatious. I liked it, but then, I too can be colorful, in a 70’s sort of way. The Doctor from the 80’s, the Fifth Doctor, seemed ,well, yuppyish. I have opinions, so, I hadn’t watched the new series; my life is too serious, I look for humor—escape—in books and television. But, Neil Gaiman is writing for the show now (the only better writer they could get would be Terry Pratchett). And my son Nick loves it, and so does my grandson, Ryan. We like similar things, so I figured what the hell, right? And so the Who-a-thon began. The Ninth Doctor was ok. He seemed like he was going for the opposite end of the spectrum, definitely not dour, but rather almost giddy. No, I’d say completely capricious. The show was good, albeit somewhat unnerving.
Ah, but the Tenth Doctor…
David Tennant. He does an amazing job balancing all of those expected giddy and dour moments; he throws in just enough emotion and apathy. He’s brilliant, just brilliant.I think, the Eleventh Doctor is going to have to work very hard to impress me more. I mean, I am sort of impressed that a TV show can still be producing new episodes after fifty years. Damned impressed. But the Eleventh Doctor better be at least as good as his predecessor. And then, of course, there’s Torchwood and I haven’t even looked at that yet.
Other than TV, there have been things going on. Kids. Kids’ exes. Grandkids. Homecoming. Teaching Ian to drive. Crazy-groupie-stalkers. I’ve learned a few things in the last week as well.
People with low blood pressure should not drink copious amounts of peppermint tea. Peppermint tea is an herbal remedy for high blood pressure—and after six hours in the emergency room, I’m here to tell ya, it works. Blog to follow about the nurse-from-hell.
I also learned this week that the power steering unit in a vehicle is controlled by a belt, which sounds sort of old fashioned to me; the serpentine belt. And that sounds positively medieval. If this belt breaks, say at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon, on the busiest road in town, while you’re in the passing lane you can still drive long enough to get your vehicle to safety—provided you are strong enough to turn the wheel without power steering. And I’m not. I managed to get almost, but not quite, into a parking lot. JL pulled the car all the way in. The tow truck driver just started it up and drove it onto the truck.
The fall is always a low time for me. Every year I say, not next year. Next year, I will write my way through it. But then I don’t. I stop writing in August and pick up in October. Every year. Strange. Maybe it has to do with the election season (which I have not wanted to write about, too much vitriol is already being spewed out there). I will be at The Porches this weekend with an old friend… I am working on a book that collects my lunchtime stories…
Let the writing begin.