nonionay: (goddesscross)
Sunday night, my appendix decided to do its annoying thing, and get all ouchy. It wasn't as bad as it's been in the past (no throwing up this time) for which I guess I'm grateful. Given that it seems to be connected to stress, it seems like the razor thin time between taking care of Mom and starting Grad School seems like an appropriate time.

Well, my appendix (mostly) no longer feels like someone punched me in the gut. I got a lot done yesterday; lots of running and bussing around. A morning of errands was followed up by the Graduate Student Orientation. I got there pretty early, and sitting in the auditorium, reading the brochure on Jesuit values, I realized I really wanted to cry. Crying was, in fact, exactly what I needed to do, given that I was wound up so freaking tight.

Crying in an auditorium didn't sound appealing, but I'm at a Jesuit college, and so there was a beautiful chapel just outside the doors. I didn't cry, but I did get in some quality meditation, and burned off some excess emotion.

I won chocolate and an umbrella at the general orientation. Woo! Then came the MAP orientation. (MAP=Master of Arts Psychology) There are 26 people in my cohort, which is unusually large. They all seem pretty awesome. (duh!) There was dinner and talking, and afterwards a bunch of us went out for drinks. Even though I was tired, I went for a drink, and I'm glad I did. I need to build up my social safe zone.

Still too tightly wound to even relax properly. Hopefully that will change by next week. There's still a lot to do.
nonionay: (goddesscross)
Hey, I got into grad school. :-) This is assuming I finish my community college classes, but I'm pretty sure that will happen. (I did quite well on my math evaluation, thanks to my cramming. I actually got something like 93 on the algebra section. (43 on the college algebra section, but nobody cares about that.) I'm not sure if that's 93%, or some other arbitrary score, but I'm going to pretend it's a percentage.) So come fall, I'll be a psychology student at Seattle University.


Jan. 1st, 2013 08:39 pm
nonionay: (goddesscross)
Well, I have just had quite the weekend. Not the best moving experience, but possibly the most interesting. last time I moved, I was dreading it, but my friends made it a marvelously smooth event. This time, however, I moved on the last weekend of the year.

I was skeptical about my mom coming along (she has a tendency to freak out and/or decide she needs to leave NOW) but she manned the door, and it was nice having her company.

Dad cut himself at some point and bled on everything until [ profile] kehrli finally noticed. I myself got a lot of bruises. And aches. But in a satisfying way; I'm in better shape than I expected.

This was a matter of moving two apartments into one, with pretty much the same group of people for both. We had three days to do it, one of those with a U-Haul. We got a load each with the U-Haul, and then a friend's van the next day. Sunday I just rented a U-Haul cargo van and did the final bits myself, with some unloading assistance from friends. I've never driven a van before, and I was happy to learn that everyone who tells me it's perfectly easy was right. Granted, I had some terrifying moments involving I-5 in rush hour traffic, but I survived, and so did my stuff.

I still had a bunch of stuff left on that third day, and not all of it was properly packed. I had no space in my cramped apartment to put boxes once it was packed, so a lot just got left for later. I got into this great zone where I could just go, go, go and stay focused on one things at a time. Having to do the entire apartment on my own would have been too much, but doing the last, substantial load on my own was good for me.

For so long, I've been stuck in this mental transitional space, where I was waiting for adulthood--good job, house, savings, two weeks vacation, etc., would come along. I felt like I was still a kid. This last year held the painful process of me pulling out of that and actually feeling like a grown-up, like I'm actually living in that far-off world that we dreamed about as kids. This was one of those little rites-of-passage that have helped me through. I possibly offended my family, and I'm sorry that happened, but I needed to do things this way.

Now we're settling in, and had a nice, relaxing New Year's Day just puttering around, alternately goofing off and unpacking.

Tomorrow, I start my Psych Research class, and I'm a little anxious about figuring out the bus system and campus maps to get where I'm going in time. (I'm aiming for an early arrival time. We'll see if that happens.) But I'm also excited.
nonionay: (Default)
So yeah, I decided it was time to cut my hair--not a lot, but more than a trim. I've got a friend who's a professional, and I definitely don't want anyone other than a friend touching my hair. Here's the tale. The cast consists of myself, CJ the hairdresser, and G the driver and photographer. Also, a frog.

CJ recently busted up her ankle, so my initial plan of hiking to the middle of nowhere to do this was out of the question, but there are miles of roads that wind to scenic, isolated spots in the mountains. We found a nice, isolated road in the foothills south of Monroe, and a pullout beside a bridge over a steep waterfall and gorge lined with maples.


Read more... )
nonionay: (Default)
She's in hospice care. Not gone yet, but that doesn't mean I can't grieve. Look! I have put my obsession with the geology of the Bitterroot Valley into practical use!

Sapphire Mountains

When the hills slid from the mountains,
aching with the pain of separation.
When ancient fell from the grasp
of the young, even as youth
reaches high,
coated in the mica of your passing;
I fall from you
as you fall from me;
falling away across ever-winding rivers;
beyond trees that never die, and
roads that never straighten.
I will see you there glowing in the sunset
with sapphires in your heart.
nonionay: (Default)
Today, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I asked, "what is this strange shiny thing on my head?" Why, it's my first grey hair!
nonionay: (Default)
I've got a story up at Lightspeed magazine right now.
Go read it, and make sure to check out the rest of the issue as well. There's a fun non-fiction article by Esther Inglis-Arkell about altering the human body in alien ways that accompanies my story perfectly. There's also an Author Spotlight featuring me. :-)

Many thanks to John Joseph Adams for giving me my second sale, and many thanks to Erin Stocks, for asking such insightful questions, and to Christie Yant, who wrote the blurb and was so awesome and friendly at Worldcon.
nonionay: (Default)
Having burned much carbon in the name of individual growth, I am pooped. Possibly the fact that I seem to have lost my ORCA pass is adding to my exhaustion. Bleh. [EDIT I didn't lose my pass! I found it stuffed in my bra, where I'd shoved it for easy access before getting on the bus. This is how tired I am.]
But aside from that, my weekend was awesome.
The main impetus for going was to take part in my Aunt C's 50th Jubilee, (the anniversary of her entering her holy order) and I would have gone regardless of my desire for a road trip. Aunt C is particularly special to me, being the closest to me both physically (everyone else is in California) and in personality. She has always been an inspiration, as well as a spiritual and psychological support. Seeing everyone heap praise and appreciation on her was a joy. :-) For gifts, the other sisters all gave my aunt stamps and thank you notecards. (Or Barnes and Noble gift cards.) She got one lovely blank greeting card with a message written inside on a post-it note, so she could reuse the card. :-)
I loved hanging out with her and Aunt L while she opened her cards and gifts. (She got at least fifty. "You have to count them!" said Aunt L, who is a retired teacher, "Just like with Valentines, so you know if everyone in the class got you one!")

Second big motivation for this weekend was my need to be a grown up and start to drive. So I rented a car and drove, all by myself, which I've never actually done. They gave me a silver Mazda 6, which was a snazzy-looking car on the outside, and had an awesome sound system with a 6 disc player, however, it's not a car I'd buy. For one thing, I COULDN'T SEE THE #%@$%#!! SPEEDOMETER PAST THE #%@$%#!! STEERING WHEEL!! I didn't notice this until I got on the freeway and actually needed numbers higher than 40. I soon left the freeway to adjust the wheel, but even then, everything past 80 was hidden. WTF, Mazda? Not to mention that the slightest hill took forever to go up. I wouldn't mind a car with the Mazda's inside and the driving capabilities of my dad's Scion. Dad's car has the most awesome, smooth brakes. I got spoiled, learning on them.
It also had this semi-automatic transmission they didn't tell me about. It shifts itself down, but you have to shift it up. So when I got on the road and sped up, I was all, "What the hell is wrong with this car that it sounds like it's in first gear?" But soon I figured it out and after that, I liked the weird transmission.

I went to the Mima Mounds, which would have been much more relaxing if not for the constant gunfire from a nearby sportsman club.
Coming back, I took a more roundabout way, going up some back roads and minor highways, which really is my favorite kind of driving. No time for Mt St Helens, but I'm sure there will be plenty more weekend trips in my future.

Overall, I feel I've sufficiently proved my driving abilities to myself. I encountered most every kind of road and traffic on this trip, from freeway to dirt to one-lane, from stop and go to wide open. I look forward to having my license for a year, so I can sign up for Zip Car.

Soooo tired...
nonionay: (Default)
This entry is sort of in two parts, the first written after the second. I was going to talk about my newfound socializing skills, and how I saw Labyrinth last night with a friend I was determined to get to know better, but then I realized I needed to talk about the junkie. (He told me his name when he shook my hand and thanked me, but I being the horrible person I am, have forgotten it.)

Yesterday morning, I was disturbed on the bus by this jumpy guy asking to sit next to me. I had been absorbed in my book, and was flustered, telling him, "sit where you like." His jumpiness made me nervous, and I wished he'd go away, but then he started talking to me, and I soon realized that if I ignored this guy, then I was an asshole. He said he was on his way to find a methadone clinic, and showed me the track marks on the back of his hand*. He told me his story, about how his parents were both addicts since he was born, though his mother had recently quit, and was worried about him. About how he felt like he had split personality, with the addict and the non-addict each fighting for control.
I listened and nodded and told him it would be hard but worth it, and he just had to keep focused on his goal. I said it sounded like he had people who loved him. There was nothing else I could do, and it seemed like he didn't want anything else. He said his friends didn't want to listen because they had their own problems.
As I said above, he told me his name, but at the time, I didn't think I'd ever see him again, and I was overwhelmed, so the word just whooshed through my head as he shook my hand. Now, I realize that was a stupid thought, because I see the same people all the time on the bus, and if I ever do see him again, I should ask how he's doing. Please forgive me, random addict, for not remembering your name.

This is actually the second time this has happened to me since moving to Seattle. I thought I'd written about the first time, but I don't see an entry for it. It was this old guy waiting for the bus to take him a few blocks because he was in too much pain to walk it. His doctors wanted to replace his knees, but he was terrified of surgery. He had to make a choice, and he asked me for advice.

These encounters with a very raw level of human emotion leave me shaken, both because of my powerlessness, and because they hint at things I could do, but am too selfish.

Part 2, which I actually wrote first.

So I've decided that since much of my energy lately seems to be going to socializing, I'd just go with it. My sense of self is defined greatly by my physical environment, and the relationships I have with people, and at the moment, thanks to the move, I am rebuilding my world.
The Prozac seems to be helping me rediscover my old INFP self, and while I wish I were more focused, I'm not resisting the change. I don't know if it's actually because of the change, or because I'm simply around more people now, or what, but it seems like people are adopting me as a confidant more. This was standard for me in high school. My friends talked to me about their problems, and I always did my best to be a good listener, and dispense what wisdom I could.
Part of this is of course my receptiveness and willingness to listen. Back when I was going through the breakup, and I first started to notice my shift from INFP to INTP/INTJ, I decided to join the local domestic violence service, to take advantage of what had always seemed like my strongest virtue--the ability to listen to people. However, when I actually went through the training, I discovered that actually listening to people's problems was draining in the extreme, so I took a low-interaction position doing paperwork.
My energy was focusing, and while this benefited my budding writing, it didn't really leave any spare energy for people.
Now that I'm melting back into a Feeler, I definitely feel like my heart is a bottomless pool, and I'm able to give more of it. Granted, I can't sit down and stay focused on writing worth crap, but I'll eventually get back to it.

*hey, after-the-fact Sherlock Holmes moment: he was left-handed!
nonionay: (Default)
Just got my drivers license. Woo!

Queen Anne

Mar. 19th, 2011 07:07 pm
nonionay: (Default)
I am officially in an apartment in Queen Anne. Mind you, I don't have any furniture until next weekend, but I have a cute little place that's all mine, with a nice soft carpet to sit on.
nonionay: (Default)
My first published story, Winecask Bellies and Owl Wings, is up at Beneath Ceaseless Skies, along with a novelette by Marie Brennan.

At the end of the story, it recommends two others they think you'll like, and both are by friends of mine. This makes me extra happy for some reason.
nonionay: (Default)
[ profile] spencimusprime, [ profile] plunderpuss and I are all going to Viable Paradise in October! That's three for three of the Bellingham applicants. None shall be left behind! Many thanks to the VP team for giving us all a chance.

I took a celebratory bath (which would have been a comfort bath if I'd been turned down for VP) with candles and whiskey and a gothic novel*. Teisel the cat came in and sat on the edge of the tub the whole time. He licked my leg whenever it came within reach. Mind you, he refused to lick the same spot twice, even when it meant contorting his head to lick the underside of my knee. Then he jumped off the tub and started to gnaw the candle lighter. That got him kicked right out.

*I got another good one. The prose isn't as purple as I'd like, but the heroine is strong and sensible and though she does need some protection now and then, she's not helpless, and she helps the hero help her. There's an excellent scene where there's a guy with a gun pointed at her, and she keeps her cool and keeps the guy talking while moving him around so the hero can make a surprise attack from behind. Thus we get the best of both worlds--strong and vulnerable. If she was alone, she'd have been shot, but the hero would have been in the same position. Her being a woman is independent of her helplessness.

I'm hot!

Jul. 3rd, 2010 12:43 am
nonionay: (Default)
So yeah.
Today I made my first sale ever. Today, I caught my hair on fire.

It's a pro sale, and I'll let everyone know the details when I'm sure I can. Now, I've told myself I can't cut my hair until I sold something. I was telling this to someone at the Clarion party as I was sitting down to recover from the hair-burning thing, and the synchronicity of it all crashed down on me, and I started to cry. Our host kindly took me into a back room to unwind. Music was playing there, and what was it playing? Something entitled "Scorched."

Wait, how did I catch my hair on fire?

So I show up at the Clarion party, take down my hair from its bun, and start talking to people standing in the yard. Suddenly [ profile] jackwilliambell starts yelling, and I become aware that my hair is on fire. Jack considers pouring his beer on me, I remember Stop Drop and Roll, and fall to the ground, feeling a little happy that I actually get to use it. Then I sit up on the grass and am the center of attention. Turns out there was a very low tiki torch which I was unaware of.
Still shaking, I told everyone I'd just made my first sale.

I wasn't hurt at all, and quick thinking all around prevented major damage. My skirt is a little holey (but still wearable.) My hoodie has some nasty holes, but I just got a new hoodie yesterday.

My hair... isn't too bad. I've got a LOT of hair, and only the top layer was damaged. It still has length, if slightly less volume. I smell funny. Keffy's calling me a sentient hairdryer.

I shampooed the ends, and dumped a bunch of conditioner in there. I'm still a sentient hairdryer, but a slightly perfumed one.

Truthfully, I needed this to happen. I've tied up a whole lot of my identity in my hair, and I appreciate the reminder that it can all go up in smoke. (ahem) I have enough sense of irony, humility and adventure that I can laugh and appreciate it.
nonionay: (Default)
Jeanne Robinson, well known member of the sf community, Hugo-winning author and wife of author Spider Robinson, died yesterday. I never met her, or really knew much of anything about her except that she was highly regarded. My closest contact with her was on Thursday, when I was Borderlands Books, and placed a dollar in the donation jar set up for her beside the cash register. Being there and doing that helped me feel like I'm part of a community, and the downside of being part of a community is that loss has all new pathways through which to touch you.
nonionay: (Default)
It's official--my dad has found my Livejournal!
Hi, Dad!
nonionay: (Default)
If you were to buy a copy of the current Locus magazine (May 2008), you'd see a lovely if grainy picture of Keffy Kehrli (not R.M. Kehrli) and C0r1n Inman (not Sän Inman, who's a much more bizarre individual).


Mar. 14th, 2008 11:15 pm
nonionay: (Default)
[ profile] kaerfel has an agent!


<3 !

Jan. 19th, 2008 11:11 pm
nonionay: (sepulchrave)
Last night, [ profile] csinman, [ profile] kaerfel and I were walking back to my place, short one Keffy, who is at a physics conference in LA. I reach into the mailbox and pull out a single letter. Probably a bill, but it felt really thin.
Now, Keffy's been waiting forever to hear back from Writers of the Future. She knows she didn't win, and that the rejection letter likely got lost in the mail. Keffy wasn't around, but we needed to know what was in that letter. As soon as we got inside, we held it up to the light. There was a lot of writing in there, way more than, "sorry you didn't make it. Thanks and try again." Being nosy and having three times as much excitement as Keffy could have on her own, we spent a long time deciphering the folded-over, doubled-up text.

It was a critique.

Not knowing much about the Writers of the Future process, I went to the internet, and found this. I also discovered that if you google "RM Kehrli", that semi-finalist list shows up fifth on the search results.

Naturally, we called her right away (10:30pm). Unfortunately, she'd been up for 38 hours and wasn't coherent. The next day, we called again from the new house, and left a voice message consisting of our three overlapping voices talking about dead bees in her room.

All this is, of course, even more exciting than the fact that I bought a bunch of bookcases and unloaded twelve boxes of books into the new house. But that was pretty darn fun too.


Jan. 5th, 2008 05:07 pm
nonionay: (Default)
We just got the first house we looked at. It rocks.

That is all.


nonionay: (Default)

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