an entire post to get to one question

how do you deal with a zealot?

and to clarify, i don't mean 'how do you change the mind of a zealot' or 'how do you deal with the fact that there are zealots in the world; making decisions, "teaching" your children.'

how do you actually connect with a zealot? communication. i mean, i don't actually want to hear what a zealot says. my bias, apart from any biases the other might have, prevents any clear-headed understanding of what they are saying. i just hear what will support my judgments.

... which is, essentially, my definition of current-day zealotry (historical zealotry being perhaps different, non?). i looked up the wiktionary definition of being zealous and realized that i am actually referring to being overzealous. i fear passion; specifically, i distrust how it blocks the voice of caution (i'm not going to say 'reason'. i don't believe in that word anymore).

i know that caution can cause accidents. going too slow on the highway, being too slow to convict a hitler, etc. i have no reason to distrust passion more than caution. i'm not sure if i am even capable of separating passion from desperation.

how do you deal with that part of yourself that wants something so strongly it won't see any other option?

in other news: click if you need a mantra for your anxiety or if you are looking to renew the reality in your writing.

blankey blank blank

it's been forever - sorry, pigeon-mistress.

i've been struggling with the way my blogging has changed. i feel like this is more a chronicle of my activities and less a collection of my witticisms and epiphanies. le sigh. i still have witty and mind-blowing moments, i am just too busy or tired to write them down. maybe that will be my next rebellion. i try and rebel at least once a week. sometimes i stay up late drinking whiskey and writing letters, sometimes i furiously clean the house and pile sir mans-a-lot's various tools back down into the mancave, sometimes i have an illicit bath while the dumpling naps and the dishes pile up (because dishes spawn when you let them lie).

i've been driving more recently. it feels empowering. finally. we've got snow, but it isn't crazy icy yet. just cold.

the dumpling is growing and eats a lot. a lot. also, frequently. it seems like i just got her up and changed her, and then after eating we play for a bit and she goes down for a nap. planning outdoor activities requires a strict "move along, nothing to see here" attitude, which seems weird and forced. but we usually make it out of the house once a day. and we play a lot.

i'm having trouble getting to the stuff i like doing, but i drew a little this evening - oil pastels on a paper bag. fun.

anyway. might as well post this; it isn't getting any more interesting. what am i doing?
parenting takes the lead, learning new skills comes next, then maintenance tasks (laundry, pasta sauce), then art, then blogging and letter-writing. minimum exercise.

okay, here's a tidbit: my favourite feeding is the late night feeding right before i go to bed, especially if i get there first with a ready-to-go bottle. after she guzzles it back she stretches waaay out (like a starfish basking in the awesomeness of the ocean), and while i'm pulling the blankets up, she grabs a hold of the wool blankie knit by my aunt and pulls it over her head. dreams are merely seconds away.

a quick tour of the darkness

ugh. depression. gee, is it postpartum, post-surgery, or post-small-town-move? if i pretend it's all these things, i can pretend it's not just in my nature, and that i am currently not doing very much to challenge it from taking over my whole being.

reasons why i blog these days:

- if i don't now, i might never again
- it's pretend personal time!
- it's a chance to hear myself think
- i feel like i have a shred of community here (you!)
- i vaguely remember uncovering deep, meaningful things about myself by sharing personal stuff on the internet where anyone can read it
- it's how i put off doing something destructive like drinking wine in the afternoon or starting to smoke cigarettes
- it's how i put off tedious things i must do anyway, like dishes and cleaning out the produce drawer

before there was the little peanut, i could pretend i would change my whole life tomorrow. now, i pretend that i can't. delusions; still my favourite game! i stumbledupon this quiz and was mildly shocked by its accuracy (it gave me discomfort, which is always a shot close to home). my prognosis was that i isolate myself from those closest to me, cut myself off from pleasure and feel like any change i could make wouldn't make much of a difference. uh, yeah...

peanut update

ah yes, the child.

curently growing out of onesies while remaining paradoxically tiny. exciting signs of evolution include frequent smiling, the beginnings of pouts and reproachful looks, more food intake and longer sleeps at night (sometimes). now outweighs the cat.

also, she makes noises. i didn't realise there was a difference between "goo" and "bbbthff". she has evolved to the former. it's very exciting because she has this shy, "are we conversing? is this right? hi there, come here often?" sort of look while she tries out her new sounds.

this love is terrifying.
i love her so much i grit my teeth smiling;
perma-grin.

this love is ferocious.
i growl and shelter her with my body
from the least noise.

this love is new.
i love her without a first date,
or any testing.

legumes and witticisms...

babies teach you all about delayed gratification. not the "raise someone til they become independant then see how you (and society, and the kid themselves) did" kind of delay. (who says that leads to gratification anyway?) i'm learning the "just checked the mail and got an exciting package that i can't open because so-and-so is hungry" kind of delay. moving to a small town helps convince me that there's nothing that can't wait, really. except the hungry baby. you know that thing about how parents learn to decipher the different cries of their babies? i think the "i'm hungry" cry has more fury. the "pay attention to me, you selfish fucker" cry is more plaintive. the "i'm trying to move a log out" cry is kind of confused and grunty, succinctly summed up with "wtf?"

anyway.

we had a somewhat useless morning. the queen went out to the farm to move the bus, but hank wouldn't start. he had intended to leave the peanut with his folks, but they weren't home. so the peanut met trooper instead (large farm dog. friendly, which is a good thing. an unfriendly trooper would be a force to be reckoned with). then we went into the nearby bigger town (really it's a city, but to me a city has decent skyline) to get some bloodwork done, only to discover as we turned into the parking lot that i should have fasted.

me: *&?%&? dr xx didn't say a word about that! look, it's just written all tiny in the corner!
the queen: yeah, actually he did say something about it.
me: oh.

way to cockblock my shifting the blame, queenie (healing still going well, btw).

looks like we're heading to the next province over to visit the awesomes in a few days. they have yet to meet the peanut. i'm looking forward to it. they're family.

well, we're going if the queen finishes suffering at the hands of his vehicles. the latest update is that he got the car to run again (after spending most of yesterday at the wreckers getting the part out of another car and then installing it in ours), and today discovered the part he had replaced needs fiddling with, because it leaks gas. oops. he then promptly got a flat on the other car. i think saturn is in his car house or something.

am i boring now? i feel bored. i'm still getting to the place where i can do more than just the dishes, laundry and baby-tending, both energetically and time-wise. i want to write the book i haven't read, but can't even begin to muster the enthusiasm. even being inspired takes effort, i guess.

flickering firelight

december! already half past, and i'm not even terribly stressed out. excellent.

working on being present with my sorrow. all the old sorrows especially; the ones that have been buried because they weren't good enough to justify grieving, and i was supposed to have a stiff upper lip. as my friend c-light says, "they were buried, but they're still in the house." can't really compost into a beautiful garden that way, can they? so we dig out the old sorrows - ah, who am i kidding, no need to dig: they're right here, fucking up my present.

every day for the last three days, i sit with my sorrows. sometimes that looks like just sitting, other times it is playing music and talking to myself. having baths, soft encouragement; the kinds of things i always want to do, but end up doing the dishes instead. no more!

other than that, eating gluten-free pizza and yummy deer meat, working at the bookstore (quite happily) and noticing. noticing, noticing, noticing. am off to the gnomes' and the parents' for the holydays, and the precious widdle dogs are visiting one of their aunties.

also! have roommate come january! which means i can go out after work like other people! this is exciting. i have been alone in this house for almost two months; i think i am ready to take on a roommate without being all "this person, why are they here, cramping my style?" hopefully i will be able to relax. this is a challenge of mine - even being able to relax in the same house as someone else, without playing off all possible imaginary expectations they might be trying to thrust upon me. however, this person, friend of a friend, nickname pending, seems quite mellow.

anyway, more time to visit my cat and pubs with the bookstore crowd. simple gatherings, with beings that don't expect me to do anything other than talk about books. how lovely. and visit my wife! ah, wifie. i miss you. the phone calls are wonderful, but they ain't the same as being in your buzz. she's got such a great buzz, people.

wrote a short story recently. it was surprisingly lovely. and it helped me get through something, helped me see a bit more about my self. maybe someday i will share it out here.

too much coffee puts emphasis everywhere

busy times. new job; returned to a bookstore and am immensely happy about it. can't wait to organize the entire second floor. classic sci-fi; wow (in all the wrong ways). no really though, there's a sense of peace, i can't explain.

meeting a person to talk writing, too. AND was called about an art show i curated last year. they've started planning for this/next year. that callback happens tomorrow, as does the call back to the houseowner for whom i am dog-sitting over the winter, needing renters for another house they own. i love how i somehow became the informal rent-realtor in my community. i really do fill that role and i really do love it.

exhausted; spent last night dancing. we were a small troupe descending upon the dancefloor. we smote the music. today is official "fuggedabout verb tenses" day. don't wish youda known; acted now!

SF has been a frequent visitor of late. he and i came home from the club early to discover batman (my roommate who has recently moved beyond toddler and into kid) had woken up, so we watched movies and read books and talked the amazing stuff deep kids think about. remember when dreams and reality weren't so clearly divided? i barely remember but batman reminds me.

i think there was an actual reason i was posting, but maybe these notes are all there is. off to mixed media sources i go. oh, and this comic. for optimum pleasure regarding social anxieties and social interaction in general, fun with labels and beautiful sarcasm, start at the beginning. i've been clicking for days, and i'm up to 2006. zing!