Category Archives: the architect


So, I know it’s been a month since I’ve graced you with my presence and everyone’s been refreshing constantly trying to find out if my eye issue resolved itself.

You can breathe a sigh of relief. It did.

However, I apparently shared with all and sundry (so sorry) including my kid who ended up with the most horrific eye infection I’ve ever seen. Five doctor’s visits, including the ophthalmologist, lots of drops and ointments and finally oral antibiotics, and it’s finally *knock on all the wood* cleared up.

It was so bad that I came back a day early from my Vegas conference to take care of the little freak.

In the care of the sister wife whilst I was winging my way home.

In the care of the sister wife whilst I was winging my way home.

At his ophthalmologist appointment, nine days into the oral antibiotics, there was still infection present all around that poor right eye, but at least he could open it by then.

Eye exams are way more fun for the small set

Eye exams are way more fun for the small set

The good news is that other than the disgusting tears of blood issue, he has perfect vision! Hooray?


Of course, this immediately preceded the most important holiday of all time. Halloween.

The Bean was Captain Barnacles, but refused to wear either the polar bear hat or the Captain’s hat, so he mostly looked like a kid in blue pajamas.

I am dressed as Captain Barnacle's polar bear mother in this shot.

I am dressed as Captain Barnacle’s polar bear mother in this shot.

The architect, sister-wife & I threw a party on the 30th and it was great fun. I took zero pictures, so you’ll have to content yourself with this photo of me as The Morrigan, Celtic battle goddess and chooser of the slain.

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You may be saying to yourself, wait…isn’t that what you did last year?

NO, people…stay with me. Last year I was a Valkyrie – a NORSE battle goddess and chooser of the slain.

Hallowe’en itself was, of course, the architect’s and my nine-year anniversary, so we got gussied up and went out for a night on the town. We partied like it was 1999. Or something.

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And now, here we are, the ninth day of November.

It’s writing month for me. I finished edits on my book I’d been working on the last week of October and sent them off to my PSM. She has assured me that it didn’t suck. She did, however, complain that there was not enough surprise breastmilk fetishes or shockers, so I’ll need to remedy that for book two. (She did not say that.)

So now I’m 16K words into a new book. Different series. This one is less light (if you can call a mid-apocalyptic book light) and is requiring lots more research.

But a small sampling of what I need to read.

But a small sampling of what I need to read.

I’m having to beef up my Swedish language lessons and spend most of my time alone in the car listening to language tapes now (instead of Irish drinking songs). I actually bought a book in Swedish and was relieved that I understood enough to accurately calculate the exchange rate from Krona to dollars.

In addition, I’ve gotten really, really serious about the writing this year.

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All the most serious writers exercise their craft in mythological creature onesies.


Happy November! I hope all of you nanowrimo-ers are killing your word counts and at least a few of your characters.


Every year I dedicate my month of writing to my Dad – an avid nanowrimo-er himself – and this year is no different. He appears on my buddy list each year and I will never take him off.


Always my writing inspiration



For five days now. I know.

It’s been such a busy few days. There was a lot of good and some not so good.

Thursday evening I decided I really, really needed to make apple cider sangria. And so I did. And lo! It was delicious.

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The sister wife and I hung out with the architect all evening until I got tired (or drank too much sangria) and had to go to bed.

Friday started out kinda shitty. It’s not my story to tell, but I would like to go on record as being pro-gun-regulation. I tried to get my Zen on, but was unsuccessful.

Two things that usually make me happy.

Two things that usually make me happy.

After the tense was over, I headed over to a nearby storage facility to sign a contract on a storage unit. It was not creepy at all.

(Mis)quoting a friend, "I'm not saying there's been a chalk outline there, but..."

(Mis)quoting a friend, “I’m not saying there’s been a chalk outline there, but…”

After paying money for that lovely space, I went home and found the sister wife waiting for me. We exchanged one of Satan’s handshakes.


and then went to lunch.

That evening, the Bean and I met the architect for dinner at Ecliptic then went home to see how the cider sangria had fared after sitting for 24 hours.

It fared well. So good.

I did my best to decimate the remaining supply.

I did my best to decimate the remaining supply.


Saturday, the sister-wife, the architect & the Bean went on a great train adventure. The best part of the adventure is that I did not have to go along!

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Instead, I finished another chapter and a half on my book, and spent most of the day hanging out with a friend. There was tasty food AND delicious beverages involved.

Porter and Thai Curry

Porter and Thai Curry

Sunday was moving day. But first, we feast!

Bloodies with tomato juice from the garden, cheesy grits, and egg clouds. And bacon. Obviously.

Bloodies with tomato juice from the garden, cheesy grits, and egg clouds. And bacon. Obviously.

We moved a few things into the storage unit, including a big-ass shelf thing. Our living room looks rather bare now, but we no longer live in a box palace and I feel comfortable having the house cleaner come back!

After the exciting storage moving (there was police action! Storage units are the best!), the sister wife, the architect & I (with occasional help from the Bean) cleared the garden of tomatoes. SW (sister-wife) and I headed to her house for jars and the the rest of the day was spent canning tomatoes (me) and finishing the deck (SW & the architect).



I was supervising. With wine. (I may have also antiqued the deck. With wine.)

I was supervising. With wine. (I may have also antiqued the deck. With wine.)

I mosied down to the local food cart pod to get the hard workers food and beer. I fell on the way because I INSIST on wearing this very cute pair of shoes that I have never yet worn without falling over.

I’m bruised on the shin, in the chest region, one hand, and a little swollen on the chin. It was awesome.

Imagine this (these are box carrying bruises), but all over my body. Yeah. It's SO sexy.

Imagine this (these are box carrying bruises), but all over my body. Yeah. It’s SO sexy.

Because I am awesome, I went to the food carts in aforementioned shitty shoes, but also my Mitmunk pink bionic leggings and a unicorn shirt.

So cool.

So cool.

I carried my Marie Laveau bag, too, because (a) I needed a way to get all the food and beverage home and (b) I am that awesome.

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After the deck was finished (and it is, except for fastening the stairs to the deck), we celebrated with food and beverage and fire!


It was no trip to NOLA, but I sure did have a delightful weekend. Wonderful people really do make for a lovely weekend.

sister wives

The Pursuit of Happiness

We are one day shy of September’s midpoint. I am one day shy of a full week of the new drugs. I’m just shy of a fortnight sans fitbit wearing.

I am always, always shy. (True story)

You know what?

I feel pretty good.

It was weird to not know how many steps I’ve taken and stairs I’ve climbed and minutes I’ve moved. It has thrown off my giant spreadsheet tracker of trackingness.

But now? It’s a little freeing. I don’t have to pace the bedroom and go up and down the stairs because 11,000 steps is more desirable than 10,796. (I have done this. The architect can verify.)

Other than missing my Friday night/Saturday morning doses of drugs, my new “TAKE YOUR DAMN PILLS, WOMAN!” app is working for me.

I’m letting go of things that cause more anxiety than they’re worth. I’m adding things that make me smile.

Job is maybe the only exception to letting go of things that cause more stress than happiness. BUT, getting paid does make me happy, so at least for now, I’ll keep it.

I have energy! And motivation! And my social skills seem to be working moderately well!

My sister-wife and I maybe – and I’m going to blame the wine – decided to run a marathon Saturday night. Of course, the actual selection of said marathon and creation of training plans that happened on Sunday are maybe not something I can blame on the wine.

  1. 5K on Halloween
  2. 10K on Thanksgiving
  3. 13.1 (me!) on Valentine’s Day (BAWGs represent in Austin!)
  4. 13.1 on or abouts St. Patrick’s Day
  5. 26.2 in June…

It might be the drugs talking (it is absolutely the drugs talking), but things are looking up.

The only downsides? Side effects.

  2. I cannot eat very much in one go and seem to have no hunger trigger, so I’ve been forgetting about things like “food.”
  3. There were some other weird things the first couple of days that seem to be okay.
  4. Also – touching. Saturday night was all about DO NOT TOUCH ME ANYTHING! No cats. No people. I removed as many clothes as I could and still be decent sitting on my floor drinking wine and watching PG P0rn. (NATHAN FILLION! ALAN TUDYK!) It is terrible and you need to not watch it if you are related to me or I know you because my dad was your minister. Everyone else, carry on. NSFW – possibly NSFL(ife). I laughed a lot.

Anyways – positivity? What’s that all about?

I feel like I’ve smiled more the last three days than I had the last three months. Things are looking good.


Getting It Done

2015 has been kind of a banner year for me.

I’ve crossed (or will cross) five whole things off my life list (and it’s only August!)

20. Learn to fence – I started fencing lessons last week and it is my favorite thing ever (except at the end of each class when I worry that my hand will never recover and I won’t be able to grip anything ever again). I am going to buy my own sword (I need a tiny, child-sized one because I have small hands.)

This is why I'm not a concert pianist; not enough reach.

I don’t actually smell like cabbage. I hope.


30. Receive money for writing. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was actual money.

Fighting Dragons, published 4/13/15

41. Stay in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel – On May 29 (i.e. the architect’s birthday), I booked us a penthouse suite at the Benson. It was super fun. We got dressed up and drank champagne and then had the concierge make us reservations for dinner. Then we raided the mini bar, because why not?

the birthday boy the champagne the giver of penthouses the view

44. Take dance lessons. I signed up with my friend Jamie to do a 10 week beginning ballet class. And we did it! (Well, I did nine weeks and would’ve done only two weeks if Jamie hadn’t been in the class, too. The ballet was followed by wine, and I still wouldn’t have motivated myself to go after the first couple classes.)

Yes, I wore chainmail tights to ballet. I am that level of badass.

Yes, I wore chainmail tights to ballet. I am that level of badass.

50. Wear a bikini in public – I don’t know if my back yard is public per se, but I’m not hiding back there and plenty of people have seen me in said bikini. Plus I instagrammed that shit and shared with the world, so it is out there!

the bikini

52. Travel (alone) for fun somewhere I’ve never been before. – I’m going to New Orleans w/o my family in September. I’m not going alone alone; I’m meeting a friend there, but it almost counts, I think. (This will also help me check another state off my list – I’ve never been to Louisiana!)

Soon, I will have my own pictures. CANNOT wait.


So – a great year, you might say. Productive! Trying new things! There is only one thing missing. (Well, a lot of things, obviously, but one can’t get through an entire life list in a year.)

28. Publish a novel. In fact, I’m not even close because I am not actually doing much editing. Mostly due to extreme fear. Like I can’t even get it edited enough to send to my PSM who will probably not laugh at me and mock me, even if it does suck.

This is what my PSM looks like in my head. Total fucking badass.

She addressed this a bit today on her blog (and I just picked up the profanity-laced self help book she recommended). And then I made her pinky swear with me that we would exchange books on October 1, so help us Kvasir and Brigid.


Goddess of inspiration, battle, and the forge

God of creativity and mead; and fancy headgear, apparently



Waking up under a blanket of sea snails

I was at the coast last weekend. That’s what we have in Oregon. A coast. We don’t “go to the beach,” we “go to the coast.” Probably because the water is, according to reputable sources, ball-shrivelingly cold, even in mid-May.

The Bean had a blast, though. He wants to move into the ocean and go swimming and play in the sand and live there forever and ever amen.

This is about 30 seconds before the first wave knocked him down and he giggled hysterically before yelling, "AGAIN!"

This is about 30 seconds before the first wave knocked him down and he giggled hysterically before yelling, “AGAIN!”


Alas! I was unable to fulfill his desire to move into the ocean because there were no outlets in which to plug my laptop, making it a terrible remote work space. We wandered around the beach, looking at all the “she-shells” (they were 95% rocks, but why argue with a 3-year-old?).

We looked at some rock formation thingie because I was hoping for tide pools and starfish, but instead it was just barnacle-y and covered with what looked like tiny snail shells.

Last night I dreams that I woke up on the beach covered in those tiny shells.

ARGGHHHH!!!! Why is this a thing?

EXCEPT, instead of empty shells, they were alive and crawling all over my body leaving their icky slime trails behind and the tide was coming in and what is wrong with my brain‽‽‽‽‽‽‽

Moving on.

Three Things Thursday

1. I cannot believe it’s only Thursday. I woke up this morning convinced it was Friday and then it hit me. Nope. Thursday. I have a couple things today I’m looking forward to, but overall, not impressed with the length of this week. I think someone snuck in an extra day somewhere.

2. I am 100% done with crappy books, and I’m reaching a critical stage where I think they might all suck. You know what? If your MC is the strongest and apparently smartest person around, you don’t make her (it’s always a her) a virtual subject of the strong male protectors who make decisions about her behind her back. That is lazy, sloppy writing. THIS IS FANTASY! THERE IS NO NEED TO CREATE FANTASTICAL PATRIARCHAL SOCIETIES WHERE THE MEN HAVE ALWAYS TRADITIONALLY BEEN IN CHARGE AND SO THEY JUST DO THAT BECAUSE THAT’S HOW IT ALWAYS IS! THERE ARE VAMPIRES FOR FUCK’S SAKE. Ahem. Anyway, if you’re going to write a strong female character, then for the love of the Morrigan, Freyja, and Kaumari, let her be strong. (BTW, doing a pelvic exam on an unconscious and unconsenting woman who is not in dire medical need of such a procedure is sexual assault.)

3. Three day weekend coming up and next weekend is the architect’s birthday surprise! He’ll be 45 on Friday next and I’m super excited for the getaway I got me us him. Plus, the actual gift? Awesome. I’m doing fairly well at maintaining my zen butterfly state at work, so that’s good. I haven’t even had to talk myself down from a maiming in almost two weeks! Go Team Me!


Happy Thursday!