Category: diary

gather your bones

Dear Internet,
I’m currently sequestered up at the cabin in Northern Michigan, closing it down for the winter for TheExHusband. It’s beautiful up here, as it is always beautiful up here, at times it makes my heart ache. I came up too late, missing the last summer hurrah at the beach; my fat girl bikini remains unworn. The weather has dropped considerably since I’ve been here, which means apple cider, cake doughnuts, and decorative gourds will be all the rage for tourist traps, those damn trunk slammers.
Coming up to Throbbing Cabin, I knew there was lack of Internet, which was fine. Lots of the cute as balls villages around here have libraries with said resource. I checked and double checked I could access many of the programs I use “in the cloud” (quoted because that makes me giggle), such as Dropbox and Evernote offline. Many of these programs keep local copies on the hard drive, thus making it easily accessible for me to get to without Internet access. Easy peasy right? Slowly close down the cabin AND have plenty of time to work on my masterpieces.
No. No 1000%. Just checking email (chock full of images these days) and websites ate into my data like mad. I begged and cajoled with TEH and he agreed, if he wanted to rent this place out, WIFI would be needed. So tada! I am on the internets.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Yesterday marked the end of National Suicide Prevention Week. To “celebrate,” as it were, semi-colon tattoo is now living on my right wrist.

Tattoo #17. Go big or go home.
Tattoo #17. Go big or go home.

To also mark the occasion, I passed around my suicide attempt essay and not my mother’s attempt. Not intentionally, surprisingly, but because of my divorce of her, I haven’t given her a thought in months. So why would I remember to mention what we have in common?
Strikingly, no one wanted to talk about the pieces other than my mother’s reception towards me after I attempted. Top pieces read in a very long time but nothing about my attempt. Not a, “glad you didn’t go through with it” or “how are you feeling these days?”
Wasn’t one of the main points of suicide prevention week is to stop the stigma? Weren’t we supposed to open up and talk about suicide, how to prevent, how to better equip ourselves when having a dialog on mental health?
And yet, nothing really changed, has it?
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. Don’t want near daily emails or can’t make it here everyday but want to keep up with what’s going in my world? Subscribe to A Most Unreliable Narrator, a monthly-ish newsletter roundup of what’s happening. Bonus! Comes with GIFs!

catastrophic

Dear Internet,
There is a before before to this story.
I’m currently wrapped up like a mummy at the cabin where it is currently 60F outside, prepping it for winterizing for TheExHusband. I stopped by a local village to have dinner one night when I saw TheEx. Remember TheEx? Oh, I sure as hell do. My rage against him may have subsided but the idea of cutting off his member and dissecting his testes still tastes warm and fresh in my mouth.
So there I was, having dinner, and I see him with a woman and some kid. Maybe his wife? Why else would he be up in this area? His parents have a condo in a large ski/golfing resort that is so full of white privilege, you may contract hives. Why else would he be up here if not with his (current) woman? Why do I care so much?
Because I’m nosy as hell and all of my questions must be answered.
He saw me; of course he saw me. How could you miss me and my overly obnoxious laugh? We played peek a boo through stranger’s shoulders. I forced dessert down my throat to prevent leaving before him. I won the fake war of insolence.
And of course we didn’t say a word to the other! What kind of heathen do you think I am?
Once when we were together, actually many times, his road rage almost killed us. As I said in the above piece, he would beg, cajole, and plead his apologies; me forgiving him as a woman (then) rightly should. I was blinded by everything — he was the (then) closest substitute to TheBassist and I was hungry for that connection. TheBassist and I had been broken up for 1 1/2 years – the thought that I found someone so much like him (but not him) was too much to ignore. I was blinded by the probability. Lusted after the possibility of a TheBassist lesser.
Boy, was I glamorized.
Seven years later, TheEx and I are side-eying each other in a restaurant.
TheEx left me a gift all those years ago, not that you swine, but a new anxiety that causes a fear of driving. Specifically on highways.
It’s called catastrophic thinking, and I had no idea it had a name until a clinician recently asked me a few questions as I spoke, giving a name to the demon.
I run scenarios in my head, while driving, from getting decapitated by a semi getting out of control to careening into cement barriers to having my car going dead in the middle of a major construction area. This despite all of the assurances I give myself such as if Jeeves broke down every 1000 miles, you have bigger problems to there are others who are sharing this anxiety with you right this very second (thanks meditation!). No matter what I do, short of taking drugs, I can’t shake the thoughts of something happening while I’m driving.
To illustrate the point of the ridiculousness of this thinking, last week I drove a thousand miles from the east coast to ThrobbingCabin to help TheExHusband out. I wasn’t getting any job offers, or even interviews, I was going stir crazy, so I left. Again. I figured the sojourn to the cabin would do me good (true), help me think clearly (true), save on finances (also true).
I drove alone.
The only hiccup was getting lost because fuck a Ohio turnpike and their terrible directions!
So I drove a thousand miles, nothing happened, and I’m more or less (more) driving a thousand miles back at the end of the month.
Rationally, RATIONALLY, I know what I’m thinking is irrational. I know that the likelihood of a fatal car accident is .0103% or 1 in 10,000 for every 100,000 people. The likelihood of getting into a car accident at all is 1.76%.  I KNOW THIS. I know this, but I cannot stop thinking about what that less than 1% means to me.
(This thought process exploded last night as I came back from the city to cabin; 20 miles of unlit highway. Me with my Xenon beams and assholes with their brights, in front and behind. My eyes ached and I had a headache for most of the night after my driving escapade. Tonight I’m heading back to the city and I’m nervous, ALREADY THOUGH IT’S HOURS AND HOURS AWAY, of coming back here. Fuck a duck.)
I talk myself down. I remind myself I have driven across these United States with nary a thought, TWICE. I’ve driven from Michigan to the east coast at least six times in the last year. Some of it alone. I’ve driven to lots of long places, by myself, and I come out fine. So why the freak out?
With me, anxiety can be drilled down to a singular incident which builds upon itself into this catastrophic thinking. TheEx’s road rage has finally manifested itself all these years later, which causes me even more irritation than anger because I just want to be done with him. This hold over me is paper thin but it ill not rip. It’s annoying and in some ways, it’s fucking with my life.
Because it’s paralyzes me. It paralyzes me to the point I often cannot leave the house, enjoy my time socially with other people, or even enjoy a nice car ride.
My therapist says most anxieties can be worked through, controlled, and often cured. I am too impatient to get rid of the driving one, I want it to begone! But it’s something I have to control and work on, slowly and methodically.
Something that only I can deliver myself from. And lots of Klonopin.

xoxo,
Lisa

P.S. Don’t want near daily emails or can’t make it here everyday but want to keep up with what’s going in my world? Subscribe to A Most Unreliable Narrator, a monthly-ish newsletter roundup of what’s happening. Bonus! Comes with GIFs!

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2012, 2010, 2008, 2008, 2000, 1999

Things I Don’t Understand

Dear Internet,
I’ve been working on non-journal related things lately, which as left me little time to write here. Not much has changed from the last time we spoke, but I am still here.
Inspired by this post over at The Hairpin, here is a list of things I don’t understand (unranked)

  • People who hate the word moist
  • People who let their gas tank fall below 1/4 tank
  • Egg salad sandwich eaters
  • Minecraft
  • Football
  • Basketball
  • Golf
  • People with more than 2 kids
  • idk
  • Snapchat
  • Pastoral paintings
  • Whisky
  • Bourbon
  • Amanda Palmer
  • X-Files reboot
  • Arrested Development
  • Complicated coffee orders (venti skinny half half sugar free caramel latte. Little ice.)
  • Roses
  • Pointillism
  • Capers
  • Use of the word gross to describe anything from war to the color of paint
  • Non bed makers
  • Zombies
  • Jonathan Franzen
  • Mushrooms
  • Cricket (the game, not the insect)

I’m sure there is more I am missing but this should give you a good idea of what perplexes me on a daily basis.
xoxo
Lisa
P.S. Don’t want near daily emails or can’t make it here everyday but want to keep up with what’s going in my world? Subscribe to A Most Unreliable Narrator, a monthly-ish newsletter roundup of what’s happening. Bonus! Comes with GIFs!

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2014, 2008, 2001

Collection of Cunning Curiosities – August 22, 2015

Johann Georg Hainz's Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Johann Georg Hainz’s Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

A weekly compendium of things that delight my fancy.

Dear Internet, You can follow this collection on Pinterest. x0x0, lisa

Writing

♥How To Divorce Your Mother In Three Easy Steps
♥Manga Classics: Emma
♥In Which Lisa Rants About Various Things
♥In Which Lisa Rages Against the Stigma of the Mentally Ill

Fanciful Delights

This week it’s all about upcoming movies and television shows, silly places and things.
♥This is probably a single most amazing thing I’ve seen this week. Oxford U. (yes, THAT Oxford) really, really want Taylor Swift to speak at their prestigious Union. So what did they do for an invitation? Mashed up some celebs who have already spoken into her song, Shake It Off. It’s pretty fucking glorious.

♥Teddy turns 40 this Christmas.


♥I’m currently reading The Last Kingdom by Bernard Cornwell, which is the first novel in The Saxon Tales, is being produced as a television show. Moar Vikings/Saxons please!

♥There is a motte and bailey castle for sale in Wales. If you loved me, you buy this for me.
♥Coming in November is Victor Frankenstein, a retelling of Mary Shelley’s seminal Frankenstein, starring my future husband, James McAvoy and his side-kick, Dan Radcliff. EEEEEEEEEE.

♥I am a huge, HUGE fan of John Oliver and recently he did a rant on the propensity of evanelgical churches. His end response? He created a legit church, Our Lady of Perpetual Exemption, to showcase how much these churches are a scam. And YES, according to IRS guidelines, Oliver’s church is legit.
♥
wittybitchespreen
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. Don’t want near daily emails or can’t make it here everyday but want to keep up with what’s going in my world? Subscribe to A Most Unreliable Narrator, a monthly-ish newsletter roundup of what’s happening. Bonus! Comes with GIFs!

This day in Lisa-Universe in: 2014

What’s in my bag: The Packing List

Dear Internet,
I recently came across an article of a list of what one woman carries in her purse. Since we know I have a lovely fascination with packing lists, I thought it was a good idea to see what’s in my bag.
image of my purse or bag
After looking for loads of months/years for the perfect messenger bag/purse, I think I may have stumbled across the perfect one. It’s small enough for me to use as a purse but big enough for me to carry my life. It’s got a front pocket as well as several inside pockets. It’s sturdy canvas so with my klutzy ass and spill something on it. The color is pretty neutral and it’s unobtrusive. (Yes, I know, I dress like a walking roll of Lifesavers but I like my bags to be more neutral.) Now the only problem with this bag is that the strap is too short as I need 52-54″ strap, this one is 48″ or so.
TheExHusband convinced me to try this bag out for awhile because he was sick of me buying items and sending them back. I know the feeling.
stuff in my bag
The stuff:

  • Zelda bag, which carries drugs (legal kind), lipsticks/make-up, tampons, and basically all lady needs
  • Two packs of gum. One from MINI, one I bought because I forgot about the one from MINI
  • Sunglasses in Union Jack case
  • Flowery case to hold my checkbooks and other flat/papery things so they don’t get smushed
  • 2 containers of Tic Tacs
  • Sparkly black wallet
  • Small skull notebook
  • Bottle of Ibuprofen
  • Moleskine and pen bandolier
  • Plastic bag to hold my glasses (need to get a new case for them)
  • Another pair of sunglasses (this pair lives in my car, but I tend to forget to put them away, leaving them in my purse)
  • Granola bar
  • Epi pen
  • Nail file
  • Pear shaped change purse
  • Car keys
  • Pen to leave in my car
  • Union jack folded shopping bag (not seen)

Could I get rid of some of my shit? Sure. I’ve even carried a much smaller bag but I always find that I’m missing something, so back to the big bags I go!
I’m opening up comments to see what others carry in their bags, so comment away!
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. Don’t want near daily emails or can’t make it here everyday but want to keep up with what’s going in my world? Subscribe to A Most Unreliable Narrator, a monthly-ish newsletter roundup of what’s happening. Bonus! Comes with GIFs!

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2012, 2003, 2000

I need to be in the town where they know what I’m like and don’t mind

Dear Internet,
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve done a serious update, thus it’s time to keep everyone abreast of what’s happening in my little world.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

First up, I’m moving. Again.
I’ve been holed up in Kentucky these last six weeks, staying with TEH, as I’ve run out of day to day living money.The GR apartment was pre-paid for a year and I received my refund for the remaining six months, but that would only cover monthly expenses sans rent/food so it was time to go. The plans is I would be responsible for paying my bills and TEH would cover food/housing/gas. (We have the weirdest divorce, ever.) One of the conditions of me living here was keeping up daily chores and job hunting, which I’ve been doing with aplomb.
TEH decided to head up to the cabin for a month or so, starting in the first week of August, in which I would fly to CT to stay with TheBassist as I could not take a break from job hunting. Then TEH decided he was going to go up later than planned after which my open return ticket had been purchased. Since we’re now looking at me being out in CT for roughly two months now, I decided to cancel and swap the ticket over to TheBassist, whose flying out here on Sunday with planning on driving to CT that day.
Follow that? Okay good.
Right now my packing is skilled enough that it’s frightening. If you ever need help to pack for a trip or a house, I’m your girl.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Speaking of jobs, as of July 30th I am up to 113 applications from everything to librarianing to content curation and (now) retail (bookstores). I’m also heavily looking for positions as a tech/copywriting/content. No stone unturned and etc.
My interview rate is about one in ten, which is above average. I often get second interviews and then! Rejection. One place rescind an offer 24 hours later after extending said offer exclaiming I did not “show enough interest in the job” though I drove an hour one way for a 30 minute interview. So yep, totally not interested. I was shopping for apartments in Lexington, KY when they called to rescind the offer. Was it because of the case?
Probably.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Speaking of writing, I sold my first writing piece to a web ‘zine and I’m super excited about it (natch). I cannot publish the piece here nor do I know when it’s going to be published, but I can tell you the title is, “How I Divorced My Mother in Three Easy Steps.” It is non-fiction and clocks in at about 1800 words before editing. My beta-readers said, “It’s impossibly dark.”, so that should give you an idea of the atmosphere of the content. As always, I keep it real.
In other writing news, I’m doing reviews for No Flying No Tights, mainly in adult graphic novels. I assumed I had spread the word for this but apparently not! This is not a paid gig, but it will help with my bibliography (or clips) page. I’m super excited about this possibility.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Flipping back to the job thread, I am using Udemy.com to build my own education, concentrating on front end web development, content, and SEO to extend my skills. TEH and I purchased bundles from them over the years as well as taking advantage of free classes is allowing me to do this on the cheap. I know, I know. I KNOW. I was on the defense war path that coding was not the only technical thing and yet, here we are! I do apologize deeply to those who got tired of that schtick. It’s pretty clear a lot of jobs require some if not all of these for the typical unicorn they are trying to catch, so why not?

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Mentally, things have been more or less okay. Last week was awful with the mania where I was hopping off the walls while crying for entire days. The only recourse, at the time, was to drug up on Klonopin and sleep with Ted E. Bear.
Things came to a head when TEH and TheBassist both insisted I up my Lamictal to the last dosage as approved by doctor in Grand Rapids and take myself to the free clinic to talk to someone.
The free clinic in Louisville is designed mainly for the homeless and those on their last hopes. As a walk-in, I was told they could see me when first available slot came open. Four hours later I requested more info to discover the therapists were all at lunch and they closed at 3:30. Would I liked ot make an appointment? Sure, why not. Okay, we can fit you in two weeks. Two weeks? Yes. What if I came back tomorrow? You’ll have to start the waiting process all over again.
(…)
I called six places in Louisville and every single one was booked out for weeks and months. If I was suicidal, which I wasn’t but I was in crisis, I could check myself in at the local emergency room who could throw me in a locked ward for 48-72 hours. THEN I could get help.
(I don’t know if I told you all this but I was stuck on the east coast during a massive blizzard back in January with an appointment with a medicating therapist in GR the following day. I called and canceled and explained why, they said they couldn’t fit me for another five months. This is an emergency I insisted. Doesn’t matter they said. When I finally say said medicating therapist and told her about the run up, she said they had policies in place and times open for just things. It should not have taken me five months to see her.)
Thankfully I had an appointment set in CT JUST IN CASE if I happened to come back that same time, so I’ll be okay in CT. I’m also set up in CT with a local bipolar support group.
I’ve, and others, have said over and over again the state of mental health wouldn’t be this tenuous unless the pain was physical and obvious. It’s frustrating, anxiety inducing, and pointless. But that is a rant for another day.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

That’s pretty much it for me at this time and juncture. Sunday is the 12 hour drive day so it might be a few days before I post here again. Happy weekend everyone.
 
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2014, 2014, 2012, 2012, 2008

55 Minuts Til X-Files (2015 version)

Dear Internet,
In 1997 I was living with a dominatrix in a dump of a house in El Cerrito, California; a ‘burb of San Francisco. With barely any income, I survived by the generous help of others, my wits, and eating one meal a day.
Every Sunday night my roommates and I, plus circular friends, would get together for pizza and X-Files. This was our ritual, without fail, every Sunday for nearly a year. Even when I moved out with one of my roommates to a house in Oakland, we kept the ritual going. But after awhile, as all things seem to wont to do, X-Files and I parted ways. I was still somewhat of a rabid fan but the magic, and the lure of pizza, were almost gone. Pizza was now saved for video game binges and other special occasions.
I’m excited about the upcoming reboot but also a bit sad as I remember the supposed very last X-Files movie in 2008 where they made it pretty fucking clear that they have tied up all the loose ends, thus no more X-Files. The last shot was of Mulder and Scully in a raft, waving good-bye to the camera.
I was reminded by TheExHusband recently, when the news broke the X-Files were not only coming back but most of the original case (including The Lone Gunmen) would also in attendance, about a piece I wrote one evening before that week’s episode was on.
Here is that piece I wrote 18 years ago (!) about that one particular benign Sunday night, starring a rotating cast of characters in my life, before the night’s episode appeared. I’ve cleaned up the piece for grammar and spell checking but for the most part, it’s as it was when it was published all those years ago.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

55 Minuts Til X-Files
The pizza has been ordered.
The seats have been staked out.
Simpsons are on and I am killing time.
My stomach still is grumbling from all the coffee I have had today. Maybe it is still regurgitating from the Taco Hell from last night. I have no idea why in the hell I am going to eat pizza. I should eat I suppose, but, for some reason food hasn’t seemed appealing in the last few weeks. Everyone is telling me how good I look. My mens pajama bottoms keep falling down, showing off my cute little underwear from Victoria’s Secret.
I laugh.

****************************************

Every Sunday, at my house, is brunch day. My housemates and their friends all come over and my job, being miz coffee person, is to make coffee. I can cook, but I tell them I can’t. I just make coffee and swap stories with everyone.
Today I attempted to make bacon.
I burned it to a crisp.
I resolved just setting the table and making coffee.
Rob looks over at me and says “Lisa, I didn’t know you were so domestic.”
“Rob,” I say, “Tell anyone and you will die slowly.”
He laughed.
Brunch has become a tradition here. Every Sunday my two roommates and I prepare from having anywhere from 5-10 people show up. We all crowd around our tiny kitchen table and actually eat a home cooked meal. Eggs, bacon, steak, toast, fresh brewed coffee from yours truly. It sure beats all the frozen and fast food we eat on a daily basis.
A few hours later, we all grab movies and watch the afternoon away. Sleaze tests, teasing, arguments, and scalp massages are all part of the routine. Today, due to one of the guests having their kids with them, the movie selection was trimmed down. We all wanted to see Toy Story which I had on tape. Problem was, so were two other movies. Also on one of my tapes was a video declaration from Danny. Only problem was, I couldn’t remember which tape it was on. I called Danny and left a message. He called me back and told me what tape it was on. Grateful it wasn’t on the one we were planning to watch, I told him I would talk to him later and hung up. He called a few minutes later and said “When you have a few minutes, tape after The Lion King. I don’t want you to see what I said.” Slightly amused, I said okay and hung up.
We ended up watching Trainspotting instead.

****************************************

This is what has been most amusing to me. Danny and I dated on and off for nearly year and a half. We lived together. We were together when my grandfather died and when everything else came tumbling down around me. But for some reason, I can’t conjure up anything but memories of him, and even those, are blanking out. I can’t say I even loved him. I used to think so, but, I can see I never really did. And my “coldness” for him, so apparent, when, not so long ago, when I had resolved that I would never treat him like I had, is something I can’t help.
The person Danny is, is no way related to who I am. It never was. My assertiveness, my aggressiveness, my lust for life, never matched his. He would have been happy living in Grand Rapids for the rest of his life, while I wanted to see the world. If my plans of marrying him, would have been carried out, I would have either cheated on him OR committed suicide within a year. How stifling that was. How limiting. He said, “You’re so special. You have no idea how special you are.” I laughed. I knew how special I was. I did’t need anyone to validate it. I have no remorse for being cold to him, then and now. I used to, but guilt, for being who you are, trying to fix something that isn’t really there, is not me. I no longer think about it. He asked me once, a few weeks ago, how would I feel if he moved and didn’t tell me.
I didn’t answer. I simply didn’t care.

****************************************

35 minutes till X-Files

****************************************

Yesterday, my friend Michael took his wife Beth and I down to the Lick Observatory in San Jose and to the Rosicrucian Temple as well. For over 20 miles we traveled up Mt. Hamilton, talking about various and sundry things, while I looked out the back window and dreamed. How beautiful the area was. How so, un-plastic it seemed from everywhere else I have been in California. It looked so New Englandish, with the leaves changing colors and the air crisp and strong. I wandered around the observatory and wished it wasn’t so foggy.
But I could still see into forever.

****************************************

At the Rosicrucian Temple, I felt so at home. My love for the Templars gave me appreciation for this. Michael and I sat in a little area that had a fountain spilling water into a pool. We talked about various and sundry things. The changes in my life. My flying out to Pennsylvania to see Jeff. Michael’s marriage with Beth. My writing. Michael’s music. I opened up my backpack and took out my wallet. I dug out a penny and pitched it in, and made a wish. Not to be outdone, Michael pitched in a quarter. Not to be outdone, I dumped all my change out (about $5 dollars worth) and pitched it in with glee. I laughed out loud and spun around.
Michael and I walked around the Temple, wishing we could get into the Egyptian Museum, but sadly it was closed. As we stroked the papyrus (Direct from Egypt!) plant (“Looks phallic,” I said) we walked past the fountain again. I stopped short, and ripped off both rings given to me by two different lovers, Michael (a different Michael) and Danny. I tossed them into the water with nary a thought and kept on walking. I suddenly felt more free than ever before. I didn’t feel binded to anything. I didn’t feel as though I was making the past complete. I did not have to apologize to anyone. I didn’t have to make excuses for what I did. I could rid of it all.
I had told Jeff that, today, I was going to do the symbolic thing and burn EVERYTHING ever given to me by an ex-lover. Letters, clothing, stuffed animals, books, video tapes. Thinking of the hug bonfire this could produced, I have resolved just to do letters and stuffed animals. Now it grows late in the day.
X-files will be on in 17 minutes.
After that, I will be watching Leaving Las Vegas.
Hopefully tonight, under the moon, I will dance my ass off and burn it all baby. Just burn it all. What I wanted to do last New Year’s Eve…
Someone just knocked on the door.
Pizza Hut is here.
Time to go.
Till next time.

****************************************

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2012, 2012, 2003, 2000

coloring for adults

Dear Internet,
Recently I’ve taken up the hobby of coloring. TEH teases me if I would like apple sauce and juice for a snack. Hah. (I should also mention I’ve taken to sleeping with my teddy bear every night; apparently I’m regressing into childhood.) No matter! I’m finding coloring not only relaxing but also cheap. By printing off a few sheets from the Internet and using my already existing pencils, I can spend hours in front of the TV coloring. And! iIt’s also fun and has a low barrier for entry.
Here are some tips:
♥Finding and printing from the Internet is easy. (I’ve started a board on Pinterest to keep track of the ones I like. I can add people if they are interested in contributing.)
♥Make sure when printing you do not print them as a PDF but as an image (easier to control how it is printed). Also, make you have selected “fit one page” (or variant) so there is no cut off in the design.  To showcase my work, I print at 600dpi and save as a PNG to prevent compression. I resize in Photoshop and adjust the color since some brightness is lost.
♥I use Derwent Watercolor Pencils, which I had laying around. As I only have a 12 pack and some random pencils from another set which duplicate some of my Derwents, my palate is quite small. I recently obtained the Ohuhu® 48-color set but you are not obligated to use water color pencils or even pencils. You can use paints, markers, crayons, whatever. What makes this hobby so great is that you have most of the tools already at home.
♥I found I really like coloring in manadals and any design that is balanced. So I got a coloring book, Balance (Angie’s Extreme Stress Menders Volume 1), which will give me sharp and crisp outlines.
Crowd sourced tips:
♥Get an electrical sharpener.
♥Get a clipboard.
Below are three of my pièce de résistances:
coloringC-600px
coloringB-600pxcoloringA-600px
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2014, 2002, 2002

Top 5 of Everything

Dear Internet,
As I formulate my perseverance, I’m opting to take some online classes to keep my skills flush in a variety of fields. As I have an interest in SEO (search engine optimization) from my days in library school when we were mapping data sets and taxonomies, this seems like a good place as any to start. If you’re interested, Udemy offers a couple of free courses (Moz.com’s SEO Training Course and Advance SEO: Tactics and Strategy) that I found useful and I’m going to apply some of the strategies here on EPbaB to see how they work.
I’ve been curious as to how people find me other than direct links from across social media. Now that Google (at least) shields keywords if you’re logged in, the data I have is actually very little. I use three different analytics software on the site (Google Analytics, WordPress JetPack Stats, and StatCounter), while there is some variation of what is coming up, it’s been pretty agreeable across the board.
And oh! A couple of things about searching: If you’re logged into Google (which, it seems, 90% of us are), your searches are influenced by what you searched with before. If you search for “lisa rabey” (quotes or othewise), Google’s results will change depending how you searched for that thing (or related thing) in the past. Additionally, if you’re logged into Google when you search, and land on my page by using keywords, I won’t see those keywords in my stats. Those will be shielded. Also! If you use a URL blocker, like donotlink.com, I also won’t see that reference.
Hence why what I’m getting back in data is tiny. So there.
Lastly, if you want untainted results, use any browsers incognito mode an search, not logged in, for that item. In incognito mode, your history is not tracked or kept thus it sill be a fresh search each time. I would teach this trick to my info lit students by having them log into Google, pop open an incognito window, then search for the same thing in both windows. Sometimes the results will only vary a bit and others, a lot.
As a mini-project, I’m going to put together top five keywords and top five pages and see how they stack against the other.
Top 5 Keywords

  1. Exit Pursued By A Bear (no comma)
  2. Lisa Rabey
  3. live sexual harassment
  4. queen pussy
  5. Saint Lisa

Top 5 Pages

  1. Home page
  2. Apology for team harpy (now pulled)
  3. ALA code of conduct
  4. Live action Sexual Harassment
  5. Hello

Analysis
Exit Pursued by a Bear (no comma) matches with the top page. This is blatantly obvious as keyword will drop you my landing page. Tada! The name refers to a stage direction from Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale, which came out of nowhere in the play. It’s also the name of an acting group, a band, a TV trop, and a play in addition to my website. Other variations of the keyword popping up includes the same phrase with the comma, “exit pursued bear,” “pursued by a bear,” and “exitpursuedbyabear.” (Quotes not withstanding.)
Lisa Rabey searches are ubiquitous to me though I have it on good authority there are two more of us (possibly three) in the world. Quotes or no quotes, you will find at least one of my three sites (this one, lisa.rabey.net (librarian professional) and lisarabey.com (writing professional)) will come up in the top five results. This accounts for traffic being driven to my landing page AND to my about page.
Live sexual harassment search is interesting to me because, who the hell is searching for those keywords? Actually, it could be from any numerous contributors such as people looking for data stats. This search links to Live action Sexual Harassment, which is a write up I did right after I was sexually harassed at a conference where I was on a panel talking about it, you guessed it, sexual harassment in the workplace. Oh, the irony.
Queen pussy is also interesting one to me as it is in the top 5 keyword search and I’m wondering what people are searching for exactly. Like Pussy, Queen of the Pirates maybe? I am not sure but what it does is bring the entry, Queen of the Pussy Posse. QofPP is an entry I wrote after I published widely a piece on ALA’s Code of Conduct. Someone thought the name thrown at me would be derogatory. The answer is — nope.  So while this is a top five keyword, the page does not show up as a top five page, which is intriguing.
Saint Lisa makes me giggle because there is no saint lisa, st. or otherwise. All the variations land you to an old entry from 12 years ago, St. Lisa: Patron saint of tattoos, piercings, fags and married men, in which I discourse on my friends from theology class, Matt and AQPaul. What becomes amusing about these keywords is that the page is number 25 on the list of top pages for my site and is the only set of keywords that do not align to the corresponding top 5 pages.
Other things that I know are: Pages with lists or how-tos do really well on my site. The more I write, regardless of content, generates more page views than when I take breaks (this one is seemingly pretty obvious). I get a lot of private comments on the personal stuff and public comments on the how-tos and lists.
There is a lot more to SEO than what I’ve laid out here and will discourse more at another time.
xoxo,
Lisa
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This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2009, 2000, 1999

woo

Dear Internet,
One of the things I’ve been thinking about for the last few years is the probability of woo – that is, magic and the divine. This is not a topic I speak openly on because, like politics, it comes with its own set of derision and trolling. There is also the idea, to me, woo is a very private thing. Part of my world holds many secrets, not all of which are shared.  (Yes, I do understand apparent conflict of interest here.)
So what, exactly, is woo? The best definition I can give is the search for the divine or spirituality, in that it enhances your everyday life rather than constrict it. So whether you worship a deity, plants, or yourself, it’s all woo. But what really makes woo “woo” is all of these incarnations contain, at their core, magic. Whether it is rituals, prayers, practice, or straight up spell making, it’s all about the magic.
Some example of woo-ers are friends who are Druids who believe in faerie folk but not ghosts; die hard atheists who are ghost hunters; honest to goodness God believers who love their church; witches of all varieties; purveyors of reiki and yoga, and everything in between.
The big reason I started researching what makes me “woo” is how we tend to live our lives on a daily basis. Below is a quote cobbled together from various sources by Allie over at Wardrobe Oxygen and is attributed to Brené Brown that encapsulates my thoughts perfectly.

We all get so many emails in our inbox on ‘how to…’ However ‘how to’ does not work – if it did, none of us would be struggling, we would not be the most obese, in debt, addicted society in human history. We frequently look for ‘quick fixes,’ ‘instant solutions,’ and helpful tips in the areas we struggle most in our attempt to ‘fix’ the areas that cause us pain. If ‘how to’ worked, none of us would struggle with feelings we’re ‘enough.’ We live in a culture where if we are not doing huge, extraordinary things, we are ‘not enough.’ All of the social media are based on the shame-based fear of being ordinary. We are hyper-aware of lack. The first thing we do in the morning is to say to ourselves, ‘I didn’t sleep enough’ and the last thing before bed is, ‘I didn’t get enough done.’Brené Brown

The other big thing I’ve learned in the last year is I don’t need much to make me happy. I’ve culled down my physical goods to at least a third of what I left with back in the late fall; getting rid of everything I not only didn’t want but also didn’t miss. Living out of suitcases will force some perspective on you, especially when you have no idea where you’re going to be next (and yeah, it sounds way sexier than it actually is).
The last year also taught me about personal growth. Even at my most manic, I wanted to strip myself down to the rawest person I could be and build myself up again. That, I reasoned (and still believe) was the best way to begin anew. We change with time, but change is often gradual and here I have brute force change happening from all directions. I have to roll with it NOW or deal with the fall out later. The former seemed like a much better idea than the later.
Angry Lisa has got to go, petty Lisa has got to move on, and any other toxic versions of me also needs to move the fuck away.
I’ve been taking small steps for months on making these changes, such as extending an olive branch to those in need, removing toxic people from my life, not allowing myself to get in situations that could be mainly mentally or emotionally damaging. And attempting, really hard, to create some kind of practice of everyday woo that would include meditation, yoga, and long walks everywhere to start. Woo, and magic, is about the practice, the ritual, the particular prayer or worship which allows me to center myself, self-care myself, be a better person.
I’m still trying, I will forever always be trying, and it will forever always be hard work. Life is complicated and it’s messy, but that is what makes us human. We try, we fail spectacularly, we try again. This journal is anything, it’s an attempt to record my efforts and my failures, even if it means it is over and over again.
Thus, I’ll be writing more about woo, which I’ve started a bit ages ago, what works and doesn’t work for me. If you have some suggestions on woo-ing (books, sites, etc), let me know via social media *points to the upper right hand corner of the website*.
Lastly, be kind, be good, and love you.
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. A few weeks back  I got my usual manicure, with gel polish, and instead of my usual blacks/greys/darks, I went with hot pink. Hot, gorgeous, neon, brilliant pink. This small shake up in one of my rituals, and one that I ended up adoring, I knew then that miracles and change are possible in every way.

This week in Lisa-Universe: 2014, 2003, 2000