I’ve become quite dependent on these iced coffees from #lacolombe. My coffee maker isn’t broken, and yes it’s chilly and dreary as fuck where I live, but they cornered the market on delicious. I desperately need the extra shots to keep me lucid enough to read, jot some ideas down, and visit the gym later.

I’ve decided, today, right now, to stop obsessing over when I go to said gym. I want to sit and read today. I buy from #thriftbooks half a dozen books every month or so, and they need some love. I get antsy however, sitting here at home too much, even though I prefer here to work and literally any other place occupied by people. I wish they didn’t annoy me so, really. But my job is overwhelmingly social and by the time I clock out on Sunday evenings, I’m ready to run screaming from the establishment, almost knocking over my boss (sorry Geoff) in the process.

So, the book, “Ernest Hemingway ~on~ Writing” has been burning a hole on my table for weeks now since it’s arrival. I imagined I’d be magically whisked off to some quiet tavern replete with fireplace, cozy chair, and no one who knows me the moment I opened it up. I am, instead, in my comfy leather chair by the window at home and excited for this read. He has long been my favorite writer of the twentieth century, of the American classics, of the kind of rich emotions and imagery one can elicit from ordinary life.

I’ll let you know how it goes. If all goes well, I’ll get back to writing my short stories and stop yelling at people drag racing down my street while the middle school kids are leaving. Krampus still in effect!

Are you in the spirit of things yet? Do shiny Santas, tacky decorations, and more cheap chocolate give you a thrill this time of year? Christmas cheer, music, presents, shopping, family-time, travel, parties, bulkier sweaters to hide cheap chocolate- it hasn’t made you mad yet? Terrible window depictions of what I believe to be chesnuts roasting over an open fire? “Have you gone Christmas shopping yet?” Hopeful romantic comedies about ill begotten couples who find themselves separated during the holidays and stuck in an airport during a snowstorm only to find “the love of their life” sitting next to them in Gate F but they live far away in a state called Indiana?

Am I just the Grinch or (wannabe) Krampus in a thinly-veiled disguise?

I think I am. Also, I think being a Krampus would be fun in this neighborhood full of (some) wonderful people and (some) tightly-wounded arseholes who really need to discipline themselves. To be a little friendlier walking their friendly dogs. To actually be more mindful of others walking through doors, driving cars, trying to have a quiet dinner around your hyena-in-heat pitched cackling. Mind you…as your half-goat, half-demon, full-time witch, I will go around silently hexing you.

Kidding! (Not…)

Happy Christmas 😈

Nothing Earth-shattering here folks, we all feel this way around this time of the week. Even for a restaurant slav…err, umm, worker, such as myself. I have a bit of an indistinguishable ailment, not quite cold, and not tilting dangerously toward bronchitis or pneumonia. This time last year was a several week bout of gastroenteritis, BOY was that a doozy. Must be that magical time of year as we finalize our Thanksgiving travel plans (does anyone stay at home anymore?), marvel at the fallen leaves (mold-allergic people UNITE), and inevitably acquire cooties.

If I spray you with Lysol, please do not be offended, it is Fresh Linen scent. It’s not me, it’s you.

So I’ve realized I’ve gone overboard with the amount of reading I want done in a relatively short amount of time. That’s the problem with wanting to know it all right now. I have no attention span either. Anyone else have this affliction? Not the attention span thing, the overbuying of books, loading up with online classes/tutorials on interesting stuff, then going “How am I going to get to all this?” At least I’ve begun a list of things I want to write about, short story stuff, some magazine worthy. I’m reading other working writers blogs (I refuse acknowledge us as “struggling writers”), follow their pages on social media, knowing we’re all a tightly-knit, but spread apart network of support.

For now, here’s my cute cats. At least they know to give up and nap when their attention spans wear them out.

So I’ve been neglectful, again, but I’ve been thinking of you the whole time. I’ve started following a fellow writer on Instagram who shares her daily trials and tribulations of being a writer- I’m going to do the same and make YOU make me write. Finding time, energy, and motivation is hard, very hard, especially as many of us are juggling other lives (pay-the-bills work, kids, multiple personalities). My writing is on my mind 24-7, as are the continuing education classes I’m constantly enrolled in, and the website getting dusty in the corner. Being overly busy is a creativity killer, but how do you stop?

No really. How. Do. We. Stop? Personally I feel like there’s a loud clock ticking in front of me all hours of the day, an hourglass repeatedly emptying and turning itself over. I’m a classic overthinker, a Type-A basket case. The biggest hurdle in my life, and I believe I’m not alone, is focus. To focus on one thing, complete it, then move on. Right now I’m already thinking of my classes on editing and magazine writing, while considering picking up a third class. Did I mention the copywriting tutorials? Yeah, there’s four of those. There’s also the very large closet I need to empty, of which I’m certain will either consume me like a Venus flytrap, or (hopefully) send me to a fun Narnia-type wonderland.

Being overly busy will make you delusional. For this affliction, there’s beer, such as my Hardywood Christmas Pancakes and Cognizant wine barrel aged berry sour. As I sit in my bar after a relatively sane shift, I need these to calm the whirring happening in my brain. Mind you, they’re small, 4oz each, enough to sip, enjoy, and wonder if I’ll have energy to do ANYTHING at home. Writing involves sitting down, the enemy (and passionate lover) of bartenders. Once we’re down, nothing short of answering the door for Uber Eats will get a rise out of us.

So we’ll see if I rise, or fall into a Netflix-induced coma. Catch you later.

Decided on the new rendition of Misha’s coffeeshop today. Came here several weeks ago to meet a lovely old friend. Much bigger than the old spot around the corner, same artwork, same jazzy tunes, perfect sized tables for two (or one with a laptop). Lots of sunshine, more coffee and food options, and I parked only a block away. I don’t come to Old Town often due to parking and traffic issues, but having daytimes off is a bonus of my (paying) job. Just saw Misha himself walk in, hasn’t aged in 15 years! Glad to know local businesses can still thrive and grow here.

So I came here to do my journaling today, my three pages of unloading whatever is on my mind, ideas, etc. It’s a great tool to clear out the junk, state your intention for the day, perhaps even find an original idea. I’ve been much better at getting words down lately, a trend I hope continues without any more unnecessary hiccups. It’s hard, writing, and whoever says it’s easy can lick my shoe. It’s hard because for so many of us, making this our full-time venture isn’t possible, yet if at all. Right now it’s my part-time partner, my relationship, and I have to make time for it, nurture it, educate it. So I’m gathering all the books on how to write, what made others write, what pushed them, and I’m taking yet another class online on how to make money from my writing. Multifaceted. That’s the way to be. Unless you’re Steven King, Nora Roberts, or JK Rowling herself, you need to be everything you can on paper. Find whatever niche and nook someone will let you slide into and get your words and your name out there.

My name. Your name. Yes, it’s a very personal thing, but so is a pen name, and finding or tweaking your given one or your made up one can mean the difference of people taking notice or moving on. Being a woman, and a minority, also presents its own roadblocks. I use my mother’s last name professionally, but plan on making it legal as soon as I stop making excuses to go the courthouse. Point is, make your name. Say it out loud, write it down, get a giant piece of poster board and get fancy with it. Take a look. How does it make you feel? Would you read that person’s book?

#noexcuses #writerightnow

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/the-read-down/hispanic-heritage-month?ref=PRHE530B9F795&aid=34074&linkid=PRHE530B9F795

I refuse to give up on writing and maintaining a blog. I’m back at my favorite, and luckily neighborhood, coffeeshop #SwingsCoffee enjoying the new #FallSpiceLatte. I’m here now that my migraine had 90% subsided. I’m actually sitting inside with sunglasses on as it’s very bright in here and I’m still light-sensitive. This latte smells like a gingerbread cookie and tastes like one. Oh boy, Autumn is finally here! I think I’ll attempt cookie baking later, a unusual activity now for me as I hate cooking in my tiny kitchen. For those who say their small kitchens inspire them and helped with their creativity, that’s great and all, but not me. I loathe clean-up, have no dishwasher, and even less counter space.

My need to come here is to write my “morning” pages even though it’s 2:34 pm. Inspired by The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, I recognize the need to get the junk in my head out on paper. I feel that I have ideas for my book brewing just under the surface, but they’re having a difficult time coming out.

So I will continue on and finish my chapter and write the junk down and maybe a brilliant idea will escape fast enough.

I know, I know, bad me, I haven’t written or posted here in ages. Life in flux, chaos in exhaustion, a month without booze. All of the above.

But I’m back, and more than ready and mentally prepared to advance my writing life. However, as some smart person once said (I likely read this), “You can’t be a good writer unless you’re a good reader”. So here I am, reading a fantastic series by Laini Taylor, this one being Days of Blood & Starlight, the second of three wonderfully crafted novels about the confluence of good vs evil, angels against demons, and loving the guy from the wrong side of the tracks. I. Am. Hooked. And as I’m learning how to be a better writer, I can thank Ms. Taylor for helping me realize a better direction I can take my own book, as yet untitled, and how to relate the characters and their relationships. Mine are about the same age dealing with similar trials and tribulations in their own “oops I found myself in an alternative universe”. This I will write to her and thank her for!

So I did mention I’m off the sauce. It’s just for a month as I’m learning how to take better care of myself, eat better, live a slightly healthier life in general than the one I’ve had this past, oh, 20+ years. Restaurant life, amIright? I even bought *drumroll please* a scale… Yeah, they are brutally honest in their declarations. That being said, at 41 years old my metabolism isn’t going to make some happening comeback like this 90210 reunion show I’m PROUD to say I’m thrilled is on.

So for today, I’m going to read my book, enjoy the dance of bees outside the window, buzzing happily through the lavender, and dream of my big aspirations yet to come.

Happy Trails!

#LainiTaylor #CoffeeMakesGoodWriters #StopandWrite #SwingsCoffeeRoasters #Swings #DrinkGoodCoffee

There’s something inherently pleasing about a beautiful cappuccino, and this place does very well.