Thursday, February 5, 2009


My gym membership, which had been frozen for the month of January, unfroze itself yesterday, thus forcing me to make use of my $34.95 a month fee and use the facilities. I had mixed feelings about this after I saw the charge on my online banking statement. Part of me was irritated-- why would I want to work out? I didn't unfreeze the membership. They didn't even contact me! But then another part of me was secretly, somehow, happy about it. I've been need to work out, to stretch my rusty muscles and move my lazy limbs. I've been spending so much time stationary, writing and reading, two activities that do not lend themselves very well to physical activity. So I went, and I worked out my arms until the muscles burned and then I used the elliptical machine until my cheeks felt flushed and I could feel the endorphins.

But today... I just can't go. I can't bring myself to change out of my pajamas right now. I don't have it in me to go outside... because it's TEN degrees out there. I don't care how much a gym membership costs, how badly my butt could use some squats and a run on the treadmill, how good it feels to move. I WILL NOT GO OUTSIDE WHEN IT'S THIS COLD. I refuse. And when I do venture out later today, I'll be wearing my long underwear, two pairs of socks, and possibly two coats. I'm not kidding. I can't deal with the cold.

I need to be warm. I love my bed. I have nothing against the days in July that practically sizzle, the air heavy and thick with humidity. No, I'd take a million days like that over one day like this. I can handle heat. I don't mind sweating, or when my legs stick to plastic and leather seats, or being so hot I can hardly breathe. I enjoy that. I embrace the heat. I would rather suffocate on the hottest summer day than freeze on a cold one.

That's all I have to say about that. I feel very strongly about this issue. I need to move to Southern California... what the heck am I doing in New England?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Let's talk about love


Who I love
Originally uploaded by antaram310
It's almost silly how much I love him. Mostly, I love the littlest things of all: the way his eyes crinkle almost all the way shut when he smiles, the tiny scar on the top left corner of his lip, the shape of his face, the movement of his hands, when something funny takes him by surprise and he laughs genuinely, how perfectly warm he always is, even when I'm shivering cold, how easily I fall asleep curled up with him, his outward seriousness and his hidden inward silliness that not many people get to see.

I also love his motivation, his honesty, his loyalty, and his talent. He's going to be famous someday.

Liquid Motivation


Liquid Motivation
Originally uploaded by antaram310
It was snowing yesterday, mercilessly, and I was doing MFA work and feeling stuck. I made a mug of dark chocolate hot cocoa and loaded it up with miniature marshmallows. I watched them bob around on the surface for a while before drinking them up, one by one. I'm sure some people would be disgusted by the texture of melting marshmallows, but I love it. They're slippery and they are somewhere between being a solid and being a liquid. The heat on my tongue melts them completely.

Why was I paying so much attention to melting marshmallows?

Why, because I had craft annotations to write, of course!

Another attempt

I always make blogs, then I forget about them for a while, and then the urge to blog comes over me months later and I make a new one. I have that problem a lot, I think-- I get an idea, and the idea excites me, so I act on it immediately, and then after a little while, the idea simmers and cools and pretty soon it's not as thrilling as it was at first.

That's so depressing, isn't it?

That's why I'm giving this another shot. I like journaling, but it's such a private, quiet act. Blogging is more public. Granted, I could be the only one who ever reads this thing, but just the act of putting my words into a public forum of some sort is interesting. I also like the immediacy of typing. When I write by hand, the words take longer to form, the ideas move slower, everything is physical. But typing is instant: the words appear as I think them, and my brain doesn't have to slow down to wait.

I guess I like instant gratification... that's sort of the vibe I'm getting from this blog.

Today the sun is out finally. I didn't leave the house yesterday because it was snowing. That's one of the perks of being unemployed: when the weather sucks, you don't have to leave the house if you don't want to. I did my craft annotations for my first writing submission and thought about writing quite a bit, but couldn't actually do it. I think this blog will help with that, too. Sometimes I just need to type for a little while to get the ideas moving. It's not about having an entire story worked out in your head before you start, it's about just starting. You just write. Just go. That's what I need to do.

One of my brothers recently moved into his own place, but he left a lot of his junk here. One thing he left was a bag of his old Stop and Shop work shirts. My other brother just came into my room and said he wanted to throw on one of the shirts, walk into S&S, grab some boxes, and walk out to see if anyone said anything to him. That made me laugh. He would do that, too. And it would be hysterical.

Alright... the driveway is calling me. I'm going to shovel and think, and hopefully come back in and write. Or go to the gym, since my stupid gym unfroze my membership today and charged my for the month of February. Guess that means I'm getting my fat butt back in shape now. Woo.