Ello is pretty dead these days. Like, deader than livejournal. Wow. 

Anyway. What was it that I thought might be blog-worthy, again?

Ah. Now I remember. 

Something about being in your 40s. Warning: this might become a lot of cane-shaking and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.

I guess I started thinking on this because I follow Persephone Magazine and Femsplain in my feedly. Mostly for Unfuck Your Habitat and the occassional dog-related post. I've started skimming the rest, sometimes looking on with an eye of, "oh, sweet summer children, bless your green little hearts." Because most of the posts are by 20-somethings, peppered with a few 30-somethings. And, boy howdy is it obvious.

Don't get me wrong - the stuff that's posted there is pretty intelligent. But man have I outgrown that shit. The introspective self-learning revelations about jealousy, insecurity, dating, etc. Shit what I am too damned old for.

HA! How appropriate that my media player just pulled up an old demo recording of one of my favorite originals:

Maybe, maybe I should compose

Another jilted love song of agony's throes

Maybe, maybe my childhood was a mess

My self esteem was stunted by the things my daddy said

(I really need to properly record that one, and many others. But I'm really kind of proud of that particular song.)

Anyhow. 

I suppose I just realized what a huge difference there is between being in your 40s and being in your 20s. Sure, you're still an "adult," either way. And you're only as old or young as you feel. And whether or not you have kids is another factor, as well. 

But seriously? I couldn't care less about cute shoes. I care about shoes that don't make my knees hurt, and that don't create blisters on my ultra-narrow heels. Dating angst? Crushes? Pah. I care about nurturing my marriage, about not screwing my friendships and relationships up any more than I have in the past, about not falling back on the models of my parents and siblings. I still love romance, but I recognize that long-term love and marriage is a working partnership, not a whirlwind of drama and angst and sparkles and moonlight. Yes, that stuff can be there in the beginning, but when reality sets in, are you still up for the challenge? 

On the flip side, I'm only 42. I still completely lack the proper amount of responsibility I need to even think about 50. Hell, I'm irresponsible as fuck for a 42 year old. Our finances are a wreck, our house is a shambles that we can't afford to repair, and me personally? Oh, man - I'm a self-employed "free spirit" at its worst. Okay, maybe not THAT bad. But my sleep schedule is obscene, and my business system is ridiculously disorganized. The only thing I have going for me is that, at the piano, I have the kind of work ethic that rides on fear of flaw and fear of being discovered as a fraud. (Guess that's one thing I haven't outgrown.) I'm a "perfectionist" because my worst fear in work is an unhappy customer. A bad tuning. An instable tuning. That translates into "work ethic" to some people, I suppose.

I don't really know where this was headed, except that I need to find more age and attitude appropriate blogs/sites for my rss feed. I need liberal, feminist, messy, imperfect, snarky, ranty blogs by people who love Firefly, The Newsroom, Doctor Who, etc.; who fondly remember their 70s/80s childhoods, and not having internet, and discovering and breaking in the internet in the 90s. Parents welcome, too, because man - how the fuck do you deal with raising kids in today's world? That shit terrifies me.

Any recommendations are appreciated! 

Or, hey, my G+ friends could actually, like, ya know - come over here and blog, too. :P

There's a weird little kid in my brain who doesn't want to go to sleep. She fights tooth and nail against it, because she thinks that night time is story time. It doesn't matter if the stories are bad or boring or repetitive. She keeps winding up the gramophone and putting the needle on the record. She's convinced that somewhere in the vast, ever-renewing record collection, there must be a good story. 

Some of her favorites include, "Why are you still so fat?" and "You haven't finished editing the podcast," and "How'd that whole grad school thing work out for you?" They're on the lower shelves and easier to find. I should get her a stepladder. or a library card. She also likes, "you should be knitting," which isn't a bad one, but it's long, and "maybe you should learn something useful, why not surf the internet?" which starts out pretty well, but ends up being a waste. 

Unfortunately, I'm a grown-up, with a grown-up's body, and I need sleep. The weird little kid doesn't come around much during the day. If I try to summon her, she hides behind the dishes and laundry and the dog. or she puts a record on the gramophone that really sucks. 

I'm trying to distract her tonight. I'm loading Euphoria by Lily King onto my Audible app. I took two Alteril. I'm hoping that maybe this will help her climb up onto the higher shelves and find something else to crank up to amuse herself. Then, maybe I can get some rest. 

I just googled Alteril and found it's been known to cause headaches, anxiety, depression or not work at all. Cripes, who knew a cocktail of melatonin, tryptophan and valerian could be so dangerous? 

...took two isolated women to the ocean and helped them swim in it. 

still working on Episode 9. This is "the breakup episode." 

it's sad. not as sad as 7, but sad. Thor has some problems. Basically, he's a big soldier who wants to be a rainmaker. Daddy says be a soldier. 

I did six pomodoros, and now the app says I earned a 15-minute break. If I take a 15 right now, that means my next Pomodoro will end after midnight, and I'd rather just.... argh overthinking ok thx mebbe I did need tht brk. 

Edited to add: Go to FB. Log in. Watch video of Thomas Boutell ​ singing the "Cold As Balls" song. 

PERSPECTIVE UNLOCKED! 

11:50 PM: Bam. Done. On to Episode 10. 

well, actually, no. On to work tomorrow, then Episode 10. ​

After the collapse and reduction, there were not enough people left to rebuild the way things were before.

What we could rebuild was… different.

It wasn’t all bad:

Without a power grid to light up the night sky, the stars were easier to see.

The obesity epidemic wasn’t a problem anymore.

There were no more traffic jams, and pollution wasn’t really a concern.

Life was ghastly and bleak in every way.

Scattered families scratching out lives, hiding from thugs and roving bands of Skullers.

One night, Autumn, a resilient girl in an impossible situation, made a simple choice that drastically altered the course of many lives.

She decided to run. 

The Arden House Series, available now.

Yes, this beautiful vintage diner could be yours, if the price is right!

This is day one of what might (?) be a Facebook hiatus. My lack of commitment to it makes me skeptical that I'll pull it off. It feels like quitting cigarettes, though, back when I did that. Breaking the habit was always the hardest part - the nicotine was far easier for me to eliminate. My habit is to immediately check social media when I'm bored, or waiting for something to finish at work, as soon as I wake up, etc.

I don't want to quit all social media. But for some reason I can't quite put my finger on, Facebook "feels" the most unhealthy to me right now. 

One of the parts of my personality that I'm least proud of is my constant need for approval. I'm always seeking positive feedback from everyone around me. Every like and heart and retweet gives me the dopamine hit I'm craving. And running to social media all the time reinforces the feedback loop. 

It's really killing me to not check if I have notifications right now...

when I die, here are the things with which I think I should be cremated. 

first, make sure that all of the remains fit into one biodegradable urn when you're finished, and use my urn and remains to plant a tulip poplar. 

here's what I'll need. 

my purple backpack, or the gray messenger bag that Dr. Fig gave me for graduation. Most likely the latter would be most appropriate. 

paperback used copies of Arcadia by Tom Stoppard, One Flea Spare by Naomi Wallace, Ruined by Lynn Nottage, and The Pillowman by Martin McDonagh

my purple bandanna

a notebook and my Cross pen that my mom gave me. also a couple of ink refills. dammit, now pens are out. leave me a couple of Ticonderoga #2 pencils instead. I could run out of ink in the next world. 

the black pocketknife that's upstairs on my desk. it's Vince's, so you'll have to ask him if I can have it first. 

I guess I don't need a toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant, or any of that stuff, since I'm leaving my body on earth. wait. but I'm burning my body and all the stuff in the list. what's the point of this list? will I need a hairbrush in the next world? a toothbrush? I enjoy brushing my teeth.  okay, let's assume that when I'm dead I won't need things to maintain my body's physical health, because otherwise this list will be too long. 

a pack of colored pastels would be nice. 

my knitting. whatever I'm currently working on. unless I was making it for someone else. 

the purple blanket that my grandmother crocheted for me. 

a towel. preferably the giant yellow one that I like to take to the beach, or one of the purple ones that I bought for my first single-lady apartment. 

I really don't need anything else, because I think I'm going somewhere to see/do something new. maybe a pack of playing cards in case I need to make a friend. Oh, I definitely need a pack of Tarot cards in case I need to figure some shit out. 

some bobby pins, because I always seem to need those. and a couple of elastic hair bands. 

Maybelline Waterproof Lash Discovery mascara. If they have it in brown, so much the better, but I think Maybelline discontinued it. Bastards. 

the red shawl that my mom knitted for my wedding. the red beaded lace wristband I knitted for myself, but it needs to be repaired first so it fits. both of these are impractical but beautiful. 

Lindt Dark Chocolate with chili. I might not need it for myself, but I bet I can use it to trade. 

I'm not sure what else I'd need, if I were traveling into unknown territory, so I guess that's it. This is, really, the list of stuff I'd need if Jarnsaxa ever shows up in my back yard with a ceramic bottle and a whole lot of copper wire, asking if she can borrow an extension cord and plug into the side of our shed for a bit.  

Finished all the dialogue notation for Episode 7 today. Three more episodes to go. 

This episode is the most obviously sad. Loki tries to avenge Jarnsaxa's betrayal, and hits the wrong target. It's hard to listen to these characters doing painful things to each other, because I can put faces with the voices. 

The day we recorded, I saw Ethan-as-Loki, looking at Amy-as-Sif, her face and whole body a wide open trusting welcoming embrace, and his absolute hunger, enjoying the thought of what he was going to do to her, all the possibilities of what he could do with that trust and how it could affect her and those who love her. 

The episode gave me physical chills (which saves on air conditioning, although it wasn't that hot today).  Part of my brain kept grabbing at distractions and running away from the story- oh, look, I could cook dinner, oh, I should take a shower. I ended up having to use a timer and take breaks to get finished. 

Sif is the goddess of fertility. The line I never got to write into the story, which I wish was there, is "do not confuse my generosity with foolishness." She seems like a simple little sweetie pie, but I also see her as being the kind of girl who'd come across a dead bunny rabbit in the forest, say, "poor little thing," and then shove her long, delicate fingers into its decaying carcass, digging it into the soil, mixing it in so it can fertilize the earth, whispering gently, "refresh, refresh," then wiping her hands on her apron and trotting on her way. 

Because when my brain hurts, it lunges for comedy, I keep imagining this story as a sitcom called Everybody Loves Loki. and Loki's sitting grumpily on the couch, wearing his big horned helmet, trying to watch the football game (Vikings vs. Eagles, most likely), while Sigyn shows him this lovely new Pyrex bowl she'd gotten at the mall, and asking how his day went, and did his boss Mr. Odin give him any more trouble? 

Meanwhile, next door, Sif is sitting at her kitchen table holding a can and a can opener, carefully reading the ingredients on the side of the can. 

"Everyone says it's a mistake to open a can of worms, but I can't imagine why. All it says under ingredients is: 'Contains worms.' How can that be a problem?" and then opening the can. 

Then Thor comes in. "NO!" Hurls Mjölnir. KABOOM! 

"Hoooneeeey!"

I bought Adobe Illustrator today and I'm using Skillshare to teach myself how to use it. I watched some of the lessons, then opened up Illustrator and chugged along, doing the lessons along with the lecture. Then Safari froze, so I decided to knock it off for a bit. 

There's a lot I can do, but I still haven't figured out how to draw a triangle yet. I'm doing this because I want to do the graphic design for the podcast. I will learn this eventually. 

So, it feels like I goofed off all day doing fun things. I guess it was productive. I want to do more, but I'm getting tired and my back doesn't want to be sitting up anymore. ​