A very nice writer friend of mine has presented the opportunity to contribute to his online blog-azine called Pointless Banter. On there, I have yet another blog called Ginger @ Large (which I find extremely appropriate!). Anyway, we're hoping it will take off and after about four months I should see some profits from THEIR advertising.
Your support would be very much appreciated by me and my pocketbook. :)
Granted I have been far more faithful to my Myspace blog than my AOL blog for a while now, but I didn't realize there was a big broughaha going on about the ads that now grace the top of these blogs.
Apparently the J-Land population is up in arms that they have to deal with these ads -which are controlled by AOL and not any of us. Since AOL is a paid service, and everything under AOL falls under that service (journals included), many feel that this is pretty bogus. Some are going as far as taking their blogs off of AOL altogether - something I realized as I was going through my Favorites folder "Journals", which had a gazillion blogs bookmarked from my avid J-Land participation a year or so back.
Considering that AOL is still fairly expensive in comparison to other ISPs, I think it is pretty cheesy that they milk advertisers for more money just because the blog phenomenon took off.
I guess it never phased me because Myspace is covered in ads, but it's also a free service. It's also a better blog service, to be quite honest. You have a lot more control over personal expression, the blog subscription service is a lot more reliable and it's just more user friendly. It's a lot better because you can see who's reading your blog, and the networking aspect is awesome. You can join a bunch of blog groups with people who have similar interests, and now it features a "Most Popular Blog" feature.
I've kept up the AOL journal for those times I feel like discussing personal stuff, and kept the Myspace blog more light hearted. That's still my intent.
But I have to say the more I think about it, the more I resent that I'm getting charged for AOL AND dealing with ads, for a service that is considerably sophomoric at best.
Therefore, if any of you wish to keep up with me, you can see me on a more regular basis over at http://blog.myspace.com/allgingerallthetime.
I've often referred to the Wizard of Oz in comparison to the journey that I'm on. My sister in law surprised me with a birthday present of The Wizard of Oz, the book, which was totally cool. She reminded me that being courageous isn't the absence of fear, but action in the face of it.
How true.
The good news is the more active you are in the face of fear, the more the fear abates.
For instance, my writing career.
The first time I sent out queries for "Fatty", I was scared and apprehensive. I needed to see a response to validate the work I had done. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the book did what it was supposed to do. It entertained an audience for one, which is the purpose of any book. People connected emotionally with a character I really feared would come across as unsympathetic.
I thought I'd lose readers left and right because of the continual mistakes "Gina" made. How could anyone feel sympathy for someone who willfully self destructed?
Truth was, I didn't feel a whole lot of sympathy for Gina myself. Which is why I've beat myself up for so long. That negative speak was coming from me about me and it was stopping any good thing from happening to me.
Through writing this novel, I got to look at this character from an adult perspective, with all I've learned being a parent. I went through a bunch of feelings reliving my past, anger at the people in my life who let me down, to finally realizing that as many mistakes that they made I didn't have it as bad as I always seemed to think I did. I went from being angry with my mom to finding a lot of sympathy for her situation. I could understand now why it was easier to hide in work than deal with a stranger.
It makes it a lot easier to move on.
So not only did my audience never lose their love for my character, I actually grew to love that kid. Without realizing it, I comforted that kid who was sad and alone after dad died. That was a pretty big deal.
And most of all, I was truly myself and I wasn't judged by the world as I expected to be. I found out it's okay to be me, to be imperfect.
What a revelation!
But that didn't stop me from quaking in my boots when I sent out queries to those big time agents who have the power and authority to either open a door for my career, or keep it bolted shut. Would they realize the total fraud I always felt I was? That my writing, while I liked it, wasn't really worth millions of dollars to publish and distribute?
Finally I grabbed myself by the shoulders and said, "Hey! You're an optioned screenwriter. That means a professional director/producer believes in you. Studios have continually given positive feedback. Get a grip! You're good! You have something to say! For God's sake.... Say it!"
So even though I didn't hear anything for the first two weeks, I sent out more queries last night after my journal entry. And I wrote a story and sent it to a magazine for publication.
And to top it all off, I responded to an ad for a contract screenwriter.
Michael J. Fox was on Inside the Actor's Studio and he said something that resonated with me. He indicated that he and that class were special - their talent was that they were communicators.
I never thought of it like that. I'm a communicator.
Therefore I have a responsibility to get my stuff out there, because not everyone has that gift and by burying it under fear I'm actually taking that gift for granted. I'm already good, I simply have to convince these big time agents.
That sounds so conceited. My years of religious bondage make that unbearably difficult to write without cringing. I've always waited for "proof". A sale, namely. But the proof is that I can write stories that touch other people. I can take a simple blank page and create a world where one does not exist. I can create people that make you laugh or cry or love or hate.
If I'm not convinced I can do that, there's no way I'm going to convince those agents of the same.
Therefore the Emerald City I'm marching towards is definitely one of self esteem. One that says, I have a right to be here. I have a right to be heard. And most frightening of all, I have a right to be seen.
It all comes back to action in the face of fear.
The next step? A screenwriting conference where I get to pitch industry folk face to face.
I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do, I do, I do, I do, I *do* believe in spooks...
I know it seems like I've fallen off the face of the planet, but I haven't. I'm still around, and I'm still hanging in. I'm actually doing pretty good. I'm more active by far, trying to get a lot of walking in. I'm easing into this exercise thing, and so far so good.
I bought another Pilates ball and that's on my immediate To Do list. I just have to find the DVD I bought to go with it several months ago. That will probably come with a cleaning jag I feel necessary. Clutter is not my friend, and yet I still cannot part with it. It's not CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome) but it could be better.
I've abandoned perfection. I've got critters, both the four legged and the two legged kind. My house may never smell great or even be totally kept up. It's better, though, so I feel somewhat in control.
The eating is still iffy. Some days are good, some days are eh. But for the most part I've lost weight, which is a good thing. I weighed in at a whopping 310 on December 2, and I'm back down to 306. My goal is 10lbs a month, but I'm not going to be rigid about it. As long as the numbers on the scale is going down or the measurements are going down, I'll be okay. This is a marathon, not a sprint. I'll get there by endurance.
Although I did buy a scale for the house. So far it's keeping me honest and I'm not over-weighing. As long as I can keep it as information instead of obsession, I think it could actually be useful.
I've also committed to my sister that we would take self defense classes together. This is my Year (ear ear ear) of Courage (ourage ourage ourage), and one of the things I've always put off until The Great When (when I lose weight, etc) was taking martial arts classes. I've always wanted to but I always said when I get more fit I'll do it.
Well, it's not really an excuse when you consider that it's pretty decent exercise in and of itself AND it helps teach the discipline which can benefit everything else. Basically I just didn't want to be fat and in a class with a bunch of non fat people, who could do the things I don't feel I can do (gym anyone?). Basically - I'm a'skerred. So, I'm not going to put it off past January. That's when I'll allocate funds especially for it, after the Christmas crush is behind us.
I'm also getting out more, like going out for Artwalk this past Thursday.
Babysteps.
I didn't go to the doctor like I was supposed to on the 7th. Apparently they didn't have me in their computer, even though I called what.. three weeks ago? So I went ahead and made another appointment for January. Steven said that I procrastinated so much I didn't confirm till last minute because I was being passive aggressive about it and avoiding it. And he's right. The gynocologist is not my idea of a fun time, and I avoid doctors generally like the plague anyway.
I'm always afraid the next time I see one they'll tell me my bad habits have caught up with me (The Big D), and I'll have some incurable disease that I could have prevented had I been a little smarter.
But I can't keep going through the PMS cycles. The guys are going to soon take monthly vacations to get away from me. There's no sense in going through this when there's another way.
This new appointment is pretty solid, I'd think, considering I made it face to face and actually watched them put the information in. So no getting away from it. And this time I will confirm.
The waiting is always worse than just getting it over and done with.
My goal for December? Not go broke. I always overdo it on Christmas, feeling like I have to do it bigger and better every year for the kids' sake. Which is ridiculous because I can't remember any of the gifts I got as a kid, even the ones I absolutely couldn't live without.
One gift I remember is Mr. Mouth - that game where this little mechanical head goes around in a circle and four players try to flip their little chips into it's mouth when it opens. The reason I remember this gift? My mother and my sister and I played it all night long. Back when I was 9, that was a big deal.
So my goal is to get the gifts that they want, but not drive myself into the poorhouse to do it.
The real gift is that we'll be together.
And Timothy got the Christmas gift of a lifetime at his ROTC military ball last night, where he finally got to dance with the girl he likes. He's walking on air.
I can't top that one.
So I guess you could say I'm approaching life consciously. I'm not living by impulse too much, and if I do I self correct it as soon as I can. Changing habits to change outcomes.
And I'm still filling out applications and sending out queries and feelers for the writing too. I'm actually to the point where I can't remember what I was afraid of in the first place.
That, my friends, is progress.
Well the weigh in yesterday was a LOT less forgiving than last Saturday. It showed a 3lb gain.
Surprisingly though, I didn't freak out. I wasn't happy, of course, but it wasn't the end of the world. First, I knew that I had been eating poorly for the last few weeks, so I couldn't really expect anything less.
Second, I knew that with the monthly fluxuations amounting to only a pound or so, a three pound gain in a week would probably even out over time anyway.
Plus, it was good motivation to keep me on the revised eating plan.
Without the emotional roller coaster of the book, there's really no excuse for me to eat like I've been eating. Not to say that there was an excuse before, but I feel that writing that book helped trip a lot of triggers that I could feel and deal with at that moment.
I feel a lot more in control than I did before, so I really feel ready to tackle everything, not just the weight.
I've been talking about getting another job for a while now, but I finally got my tush out on Wednesday to pound the pavement and see what I could find. I applied at the hospital, at Blue Cross, at the Employment Office (state job, great pay) and even at Target. (I figure, what I lose in pay I can make up in an employee discount). The next day HR at the hospital called me back to schedule a typing test.
Considering I type 70+wpm and the job requirement is 40wpm, I feel confident that I'll pass with flying colors.
Anyway that's tomorrow. It's a temp job in admissions, but it's work and hopefully it'll pay well.
What I really want are benefits. We don't have vision or dental, and I really want to get covered. I want to finally get my smile fixed, I think that will do a lot to boost my confidence.
Jeff gave me a link to another work from home type job with benefits, but I think I'm ready to get out there in the world again. I'm in a bubble here, and it's really easy to give in to some bad habits (sleeping/eating/etc). It's time to join the land of the living.
Anyway, I have two minutes left until I'm 36. Yes I count down to the very minute.
It only really bothers me when I think of all the time I've wasted, and so many opportunities that I've wasted. Sometimes I feel that life is passing me by, and that is exacerbated by the digits flipping over in my age.
I had a moment earlier today, when Timothy found some of his dad's stuff in the garage, that I had to face mortality once again.
I hate facing mortality, I hate thinking that one day I'll die. I know it's stupid to worry about the inevitable, but sometimes I just have a moment of panic that I'll die without doing what I want to do or making the kind of mark I want to make on the world.
That kind of dread hit me today as I was sorting through Dan's stuff and deciding who should get what.
To anyone else in the world, Dan's logbook from when he went to school to be a trucker would be just a book. Just a thing. To the boys and to me, that book is the only tangible thing of Dan we have left.
When it's all said and done, we're defined by what we left behind. All those things we toil so hard for end up being things that are scattered to the four winds once we die.
It was a sad thing to me. But it helped put things in perspective. It's not about the houses or the cars or the stuff that means so much in the moment. It's about the impact.
My goal is to make a pretty big impact. Not just for me, but for Dan and for Brandon and for all the people that I love so dearly. I want to immortalize us all.
It's a pretty big job. I'm going to have to be healthy and strong and live the life I was meant to live instead of crouch on the sidelines in fear.
So now that I'm officially 36, the Year of Courage has begun.
Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride.
Well color me surprised. Despite my inches, I only gained one pound in this month I've been off my foot.
That loud clank you heard was my chin dropping to the floor.
In fact, I had so pysched myself up that it would be 315 when I saw 305 I barely processed it.
So this is good news.
It was almost like seeing a loss!
But I do need to get some exercise because I'm feeling flabby and gross from the inches, so I'm going to ease back into a routine.
Knowing is half the battle, right?
If you're following along in Fatty, you're likely at the spot where I stopped, after a pretty big mistake on my part.
Like you, I was thinking way back then that ok I made my mistake, time to move on.
We were both wrong.
It wouldn't be long before I made the same mistake over and over again.
Dealing with my promiscuity is not easy for me, and likely the reason my writing came to a complete stop. I'm so caught up with not looking foolish and I'm going to be a complete and utter fool from here on out.
So, how to deal with it?
Well, the first is to just deal with it. I have long been caught up in the idea "If it feels good do it," then suffer immediate buyers remorse. This happens on anything I indulge myself in. I indulge myself defiantly (I deserve it I'm entitled) then almost immediately when it's over the high crashes and I feel weak and stupid.
It's a painful and unending cycle, as it would seem.
Especially since I've been eating everything in sight while I go through all these painful self examinations.
Last night, after I ate some fried chicken (which is a no no not just diet wise but with my irritable gall bladder), I felt nauseated by the grease.
I know eating badly leaves me feeling gross, but I do it because I will not be deprived. I don't deserve it. I even make excuses for it.
But it basically boils down to me making the same mistake over and over and over again.
It isn't like I expect a different result. It just means that I know what the consequences will be and decide that I can live with them.
So today I measured myself, and I'll probably go weigh myself as well - shoe and all. I have gained 12 inches since September. This is not good. I expect the scale to be even more shocking. I wouldn't be surprised if it said 315.
So.
The first thing I want to do is say that all that is behind me. I think we both know that it's not.
All I can say is that I'm going to get through today. I'm going to feel what I feel, even if it hurts. When I went over the rape/attempted suicide chapter, I sat here at this computer bawling my eyes out and hurting so deep I thought I would disappear into myself.
After I was through I wanted to eat. Something. Anything. Food is my drug of choice.
Instead, I didn't. Despite my overindulgence there were moments of victory like that.
So I know there is a better way. I'm not that fourteen year old girl floundering from place to place anymore. I have to find that strength I know I have and just make a different choice.
I may stumble... in fact I may even fall.
I cannot be perfect. All I can do is be me.
From here on in, that's going to have to be good enough.
