Psst... Still there?

I'm still alive.

I keep having to say that. That's a little disturbing.

But really, having to make five posts a week on asidefromthenorm.com and working full time and trying to write... I totally forget I have this blog.

How goes it out there?

I'm Alive!

So much has happened!

I've been in contact with one Mr. Brett Dalton to work on the Pun Fund.

I got a job.

I forgot to write.

And... I'm single again.

Comments? Questions?

Epic Fail

It has been more than a month since I've written in this blog and guess what? Longer than that since I've written on my book. WHY????????

I don't know. So I bought a pallet cleanser.

Finish This Book by Keri Smith

It's actually really fun. And it's so silly it's a really good find.

Let's see if it gets me back to writing!

The Bottom

I am such a horrible blogger. At least recently I have been. But to let you all know, it hasn't been because I don't love you all or because I don't have things to write. 

I've been accepted into a study because I am indeed depressed to the point of suicide. 

I have not attempted it. Let me be clear. But the thought of "I shouldn't be alive" is very prominent.

Please, please, if you get to this point like me, seek help.

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, the Lifeline is here to help: call 1–800–273–8255

If you are experiencing any other type of crisis, consider chatting confidentially with a volunteer trained in crisis intervention at www.imalive.org, or anonymously with a trained active listener from 7 Cups of Tea.

And, if you could use some inspiration and comfort in your dashboard, you should consider following the Lifeline on Tumblr.

Beloved Maya Angelou, Rest in Peace

"Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size 
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips, 
The stride of my step, 
The curl of my lips. 
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman, 
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please, 
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees. 
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees. 
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes, 
And the flash of my teeth, 
The swing in my waist, 
And the joy in my feet. 
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered 
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them, 
They say they still can’t see. 
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back, 
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed. 
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud. 
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels, 
The bend of my hair, 
the palm of my hand, 
The need for my care. 
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

”

—	Maya Angelo

A Soldier's Angel

I am a soldier's angel

In a war of words between worlds

About what is wrong

About what is righteous

I am a soldier's girl

It's 3:35 in the morning and I'm sitting down to type this with this song stuck in my head. Stevie Nicks wrote it after visiting veterans in a hospital. I hear it and I think not only of those battles our troops are thrown to but of the battles each of us play a part in. I'm a soldier in an army to keep peace among the abused, the neglected and the forgotten. 

I'm a soldier in their army

They are the soldiers of my heart

I try to make them smile again

Though it tears me apart

Their bravery leaves me spellbound

I try to be a small part

Of bringing them back again

They are the soldiers of my heart

Every damn day I see it. I close my eyes and I think back to all the people I've watched suffer. I think about the people I've pulled from the ashes. I remember the girl who was raped and ran to me for shelter. I remember the girl who's boyfriend thought she was a punching bag. I remember my own boyfriend throwing me down a hall when he was jealous for no reason. I remember seeing a child think that maggots in their home was something normal. I remember so much pain and suffering.

And I remember standing up to right those wrongs.

It's so much, though. It's so hard to be that rock. It's so hard to see all the pain and not want to do something and at the same time I think to myself: "Will there ever be an end to this battle?" It seems like I'm drawn to the suffering. If there are people in pain, if there are people who need protection or help, I find myself there.  

It's 3:42 in the morning and I'm still typing, a bit drunk from being tired. But I've never crawled into a bottle to hide. I've never taking drugs to numb the hurt. Because I'm a soldier.

I am a soldier myself

And no one walks away

From this battle

Only Human

Sorry for the lack of posting. I've been in the hospital. I'd like everyone to meet Tony! 

This beauty of a cyst had wrapped itself around my left ovary so tight that they not only had to remove the cyst, but take my ovary with it. It was the size of a softball. I kid you not.

So, why Tony? Thank my Tumblr friends:

meganegilmore:

Just got home. Had emergency surgery to remove my left ovary and the SOFTBALL SIZED CYST attached to it.

I’m on drugs today so posts will be minimum here and on punmasterbrett. Love you all!!

texts-from-the-bus:

NAME

IT NEEDS A NAME

when you feel better. first you rest up and feel better and then we name your exorcised body parts there is an order to this

homemadepestoaioli:

Seriously, kitten, feel better. One of my best friends had an ovarian cyst removed, and she was trying to go to class the day after surgery. One of the only times my first aid has ever come in handy, because she passed the hell out right into my arms. Luckily, I’m a 5’2” beast and caught her.

But definitely paint or do something creative like that while you’re on the meds. It will be hilarious later.

And, just as a side note, SCAR VIA TONY is an anagram for ‘ovarian cyst’.

I think you should call him Tony. When you get mad, you can be like ‘DAMMIT, STARK.”

meganegilmore:

TONY IT IS!

texts-from-the-bus:

HI TONY

BYE TONY

homemadepestoaioli:

SCAR VIA TONY

The Life and Excision of Tony, an Ovarian Cyst

Coming this Summer from Iron Penguin

Book cover. We need a book cover.

meganegilmore:

My cyst gets more reblogs than my writing. *sigh* Story of my life.

homemadepestoaioli:

It’s all from the same people, though. Happy to a-cyst you.

i’m so sorry

texts-from-the-bus:

CEASE AND DE-CYST: BOOK TWO IN THE ONGOING TONY SAGA

meganegilmore:

Who’s making the book cover? Someone needs to get on this. I in-cyst.

homemadepestoaioli:

We need a-cyst-ance. This is ovary our level.

texts-from-the-bus:

I like how this darn thing keeps getting reblogged with the same three people over and over again. You might say it’s become rather in-cyst-uous. 

homemadepestoaioli:

CYSTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING TUMBLR AUNTIES

meganegilmore:

I love you guys so much. You’re never ovary the top.

Force It

Usually, when something doesn't come easily, you don't want to force it. Like that time with the electrical outlet. But sometimes, a little force can pop things right into place.

I think that needs to be my approach to writing. Have you noticed? My blog keeps missing days. It's sucking. That's happening to my book, too. I don't know if it's my depression or what but I just have lost the will to do... well... anything.

So I opened this up today and forced myself to at least write down my feelings. Maybe, just maybe, it'll be the kick I need to get my butt in gear.

Distractions are Distracting. Seriously.

It sounds simple. It sounds like something you should not have to explain. But I have to. Because OH. MY. GAH. I am obsessing with Tumblr and I can't get myself off to write. It's bad. 

I even try to justify it. "I'm following other writers to get tips and tricks." or "I little RP will break up the mental block." LIAR!!

It's SO hard! There are so many things out there that are taking me away from what I'm supposed to be doing. Hey, can you tell me how to not be distract... Oh look!

My Security Blanket... Fanfiction

My security blanket has to be fanfiction. Not reading it, writing it. I have to do it now and then because I want instant approval. And there is no bigger audience than that of fanfiction. It is also one of the most judgemental. These are canon characters you're messing with and the fan base already had a clear idea of what they want. So to receive approval from these readers means that I've listened, studied and related to the characters enough to make it believable.

So yeah, it's a writing exercise and it's good for me. But I don't do it for the practice. I'm an artist. This means that I crave approval. And this is how I get it.