So, obviously I’ve neglected to post about B.C. – again. Or anything else of any real consequence. I have been plugging through my novel, procrastinating by boosting my social life and spending way too much money at Sephora. (‘Tis the season?)
At the risk of sounding like a crazy cat lady, I do have to admit that I’m pretty sure November is Scully’s favourite month. She has a special perch by my computer for this month only (I move over the cat tree) and gets a lot of extra attention while I’m brainstorming in front of the television.
I’m sorry, I just find this picture waaay too cute!
Just to add in a bit of TMI into your day: my sexy nasal infection has yet to go away, but that could have something to do with the fact that I forgot to take my nose spray for the duration that Chris was in Denver. Here’s to second-time’s-a-charm?
I’ve been hearing a lot about Christmas lately. (Duh. It’s November.) If you know anything about me, you know that I Loooooooooooooooove the holidays (with a capital “L”.) But I never, ever indulge in festivities (beyond the often caramel brulee latte, of course) until December 1st. Not only am I so caught up in Nanowrimo, but I’ve always preferred to condense all of the joy and wonderment in one little perfectly gift-wrapped box of a month. This includes (but is not limited to:) present shopping, listening to Christmas carols, holiday baking, singing Christmas carols and watching Love Actually, Elf and It’s a Wonderful Life about five gazillion times.
The only holiday-related thing I do complete in advance is discovering which sister or sister-adjacent person is on the gift list each year.
Have I mentioned that Chris is of the Scroogey-sort? He was far too enthusiastic about drawing his own name for the gift exchange.
(I obviously made him redraw.)
When do you usually start up your holiday traditions?
When did this become my city?
As I sat on the bench, overlooking the river and the highway and downtown, I hoped to get a glimpse of the satellite that supposedly rained down on Okotoks last night. The coolness of the air and the sounds of the city traffic brought on a sort of disjointed nostalgia. I remembered life before bills and boyfriends and benches – a life of star-gazing and campfires. Of wheat chaff and bush congregations. Then of the way the city smelled and sounded at night in the first years I lived in one – crisp, new, thrilling.
I think it’s the time of year affecting my sensibilities as it always does. And yet I wonder – how did I get to the here and now? On this bench, peering over this river? When did Calgary become mine?
I saw no satellite, no glimmer of light crashing toward the earth. Instead I saw an intricate moment of time and being. What a great way to ring in autumn.
I recently switched my cell phone ringer from my usual “Sci-Fi” theme to a really eerie tone that was apparently on the Japanese horror movie, One Missed Call.
This back-fired on me last night, when my phone went off at 3:30am and scared the crap out of me. As an addition to being thrown from sleep by the creepy tune, not only was it an unknown number but it was an unknown number with a large amount of random digits (probably from a VOIP call.)
I had a heckuva time falling back to sleep, and kept thinking about the poster of the American remake of the movie:
I’m tired today. =.=
So, let me start off this blog by saying, I know. I know that I’m notorious for coming up with new blogs. My closest friends will attest to this. I can’t explain it in its entirety, but I believe that in the past, each time I’ve tried to identify myself – as a student, a poet, a writer, ect. – I have created a new blog to help me fill the role.
This time, however, it’s going to be different. For the first time, I’m going to identify as me. Not to say that those labels haven’t been a part of me. But I’ve grown, and I am ready for everyone – family, friends, friends of friends, cats – to have a glimpse.
Enough of the mumbo jumbo. Here’s a bit about me.
I’m a 27-year-old professional writer who works in and loves the marketing field. I have two cats, a long-term boyfriend (yes, one of those), a third-floor apartment building along the river and a hankering for cherries at this very moment. I’m an aspiring novelist in my spare time – that is, when reading, gaming and long walks on the beach are not absorbing my day. (Key to spotting a writer – imagination. There are no beaches here. Take from this what you wish.) Words I would use to describe myself: scatter-brained. clumsy. coffee-fiend. wistful. happy.
So, hello there. Welcome to my blog.