tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34104808262037589452024-02-19T23:53:10.649-05:00The Whole AnnechiladaAnything and everything I feel like talking about. Middle-aged mom and wife trying to figure out life, love, food, happiness, and how to tie a shoelace properly. (Check out my author site at http://margaretlocke.com)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-30961226635171505632014-09-27T10:22:00.000-04:002014-09-27T10:22:01.286-04:00The Personal Versus The Professional<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqlPWHSqRX-65CDAsyZNgFa9_unKMKeGAFCood2Nh-je3RltbMAosprchlQs9UUy7gdwn4_MdDt66gpki6oUm1Znr0hMFy6w62uCh01GzXbOKprm6EuNvRbkW-CNd5DvEZ0TXolhJnOFY/s1600/annebw914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqlPWHSqRX-65CDAsyZNgFa9_unKMKeGAFCood2Nh-je3RltbMAosprchlQs9UUy7gdwn4_MdDt66gpki6oUm1Znr0hMFy6w62uCh01GzXbOKprm6EuNvRbkW-CNd5DvEZ0TXolhJnOFY/s1600/annebw914.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
I'd basically given up blogging here, focusing instead on building my author website (margaretlocke.com) and my writerly presence in the online world.<br />
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That's wonderful, and it's something I need to do. But I'm also realizing that there are many things about which I'd like to write (mostly for my own benefit) that wouldn't and shouldn't belong on a public, professional(esque) website.<br />
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So I might come back here. Re-reading some of my previous entries, it's startling to notice that much of what I angst about, struggle with, want to change hasn't, um, changed. Perhaps that's not unusual - most of us probably have certain issues that remain lifelong struggles. It is a bummer, though.<br />
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Anyway, I just felt like popping in to say that while Margaret is quite busy (I've finished A Man of Character, edited it several times, had beta readers look at it, and am now submitting it to agents), Anne is still in here, too. And Anne has her own voice that still longs to be heard.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-30567565450279414792013-12-31T10:56:00.001-05:002013-12-31T10:56:14.011-05:00Find me at my author site, http://margaretlocke.comBecause these Merlin posts are so popular (thank YOU, fellow Merlinians!), I've decided to leave them at the top of this blog and stop my personal blogging for the time being. But you can find me at my author site, <a href="http://margaretlocke.com/">http://margaretlocke.com</a>, anytime!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-89771902456588788062013-05-29T21:48:00.002-04:002013-05-29T21:55:49.850-04:00I Am Woman - Hear Me ROAR! (Of Guys And Gals and Merlin)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As the daughter of a mom who was active in the 70s Women’s Movement and a proud member of N.O.W., you can say I’ve been trained from birth to think about feminism and women’s and men’s roles in society. </span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While a grad student in the 1990s, I took that interest and focused it on the medieval period, looking at gender roles in medieval Europe, specifically Ottonian Germany. Had I actually finished that darn dissertation, I would have been well-versed on the representations of women and power in the 10th and 11th centuries. </span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh well. I got married and had kids instead, even becoming a stay-at-home mom - something I never expected I would do. Now instead of reading up on Carolingian queens and Ottonian nuns, I think more often about gender roles in our current society. Especially where I fit (or don’t fit) into them. I’m still a feminist. Feminism means, for me, that women and men should have equal opportunities to pursue what they want in life, without judgment or discrimination, whether that be to lead a Fortune 500 company or to raise kids at home. Or both (if one could manage it; I certainly couldn’t!). </span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What does this have to do with the BBC series Merlin, you say? Well, the more I fell in love with the show (and believe me, I’ve fallen hard!), the more I started thinking about the portrayal of men and women in it. </span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We Merlinians all know of <a href="http://thewholeannechilada.blogspot.com/2013/04/merlin-and-arthur-and-merthur-oh-my.html">the glorious bromance between Arthur and Merlin</a>, and the close-</span></span></b></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">knit bond between the Knights. We celebrate it. We root for it. Friendship is a beautiful thing, and male friendship is certainly something I wish we saw displayed more openly in our modern society. We also watch the intricate father-son dance between Uther and Arthur, Arthur often wanting to defy his dad (and sometimes doing so) to pursue what is right, but also caving at times out of respect for his father (and his King). We love Gwaine and Percival, cheer on Eleon, laugh at Leon’s apparent immortality, and are transfixed when those little moments between Arthur and Merlin come on screen. I love it. I love it. </span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd" style="line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But what about the women?</span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd" style="line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The quadrangle at the center of the show revolves around Arthur and Merlin, Morgana and Gwen. Morgana and Gwen are each strong characters, although destined to become opposites, to become enemies, a far cry from the friendly but still servant-master relationship of season one. As Merlin and Arthur’s friendship strengthens, Gwen’s and Morgana’s falls apart. </span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd" style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love Gwen. I love that she wasn’t what I was expecting physically for the role of Guinevere, and that her background, as that of a servant, a blacksmith’s daughter, certainly challenged the traditional portrayal of Gwen and added depth to her relationship with Arthur. </span></b><b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She is NOT of high birth. She does not have magic. But she will rise, and in the end she is the strongest female character - she will rule Albion and, we all hope, she will be a fair and just queen. </span></b></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd" style="line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While I know the well-known Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot triangle was a tricky one for this self-proclaimed family-oriented show, I appreciated how the writers chose to portray Gwen as enchanted when she cheated on Arthur, allowing her persona as the epitome of the loyal friend and wife to survive. (Although come on, why did no one ever question whether Gwen was under a spell? Why did no one ever find that silly charmed bracelet? That plot point continues to bother me - although I suppose one could argue we saw enough before that hinted at Gwen’s interest in Lancelot that maybe it wouldn’t be hard for her - and others - to think she could really betray Arthur. Except we as the audience know she couldn’t - it’s not her character!) She’s the conscience of the show, almost always the voice of reason. </span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxZo8jbUNpe-fMmaN9ziFd9-hUYL_jf1xmQub8h3uAz24JK8m_AnE_YCK8JjwQ-4drbMUke292M1CWAbI70mFbDLf1fGgQWCBu_jpItyEQqVbusv0qx_e9eX90nRBcZSkzmE6FeJqfJQ/s1600/Season-3-Promotional-Photos-merlin-on-bbc-18272957-300-450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxZo8jbUNpe-fMmaN9ziFd9-hUYL_jf1xmQub8h3uAz24JK8m_AnE_YCK8JjwQ-4drbMUke292M1CWAbI70mFbDLf1fGgQWCBu_jpItyEQqVbusv0qx_e9eX90nRBcZSkzmE6FeJqfJQ/s200/Season-3-Promotional-Photos-merlin-on-bbc-18272957-300-450.jpg" width="133" /></a><span id="docs-internal-guid-56762487-f2ff-7a9b-ee3f-dbe1f7417edd"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I hate Morgana? No. Was I supposed to? Maybe. For one thing, I figured it would be taking too much creative license for the writers to turn her character into a good one. I also felt we’d been given enough insight into her past to understand her deep feelings of betrayal when her half-sister Morgause (about whom she’d never been told) was killed, and when she discovered she was not Uther’s ward, but rather his true daughter. Yes, she became twisted by the desire for power and revenge, but I still felt sorry for her more than anything. She created her own demise.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Beyond the two main characters of Gwen and Morgana, what women do we see in Merlin, and how does the show portray them? Many of them (Nimue, Morgause, Sophia) are sorcerers - or, to use the feminine version of that word, sorceresses. Morgause also acts much the part of a knight - she wears armor, commands an army - essentially doing many of the things we’d expect only men of the period to be doing. </span></div>
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Do we see this as a positive thing, in that here are powerful women - high priestesses - wielding great influence and, well, power? Or a negative thing, in that many of these women use magic for evil purposes? Or are those purposes only evil to the Uthers of the world? We as the audience long throughout the entire series for Merlin to be able to reveal his magic, and for Arthur to restore the practice of magic to the kingdom. That’s the driving desire of the show. That’s the hope. So we nod in assent when Merlin proclaims that magic itself is not inherently evil, it’s how people choose to use it. So true. Substitute the word power or influence for magic, and we have a statement applicable to the modern world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am no Arthurian scholar, but I know we read some of these tales in my undergrad and grad days, and am sure we discussed the religious symbolism in them and what that would have meant at the time - whether one thinks of Arthur as the 5th-6th century possibly historical figure, or of the full medieval renderings of the tales as told by Geoffrey of Monmouth and Thomas Malory in the Middle Ages. The stamping out of the Old Religion can be seen as connected to the Christianization of Britain, during which druidism and other native religion beliefs were, indeed, persecuted. It’s no surprise to most people that the entire Arthurian legend can be seen as Christian allegory, replete with Christian imagery. <a href="http://thewholeannechilada.blogspot.com/2013/04/holy-moses-is-that-merlin.html">This same element remains in the TV series</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet interestingly enough in this BBC show, the Old Religion - namely, that of magic, of the druids, is seen as the ideal. Uther is not a sympathetic figure; he is ruthless and, well, frankly just bad. We see Arthur as the hope that magic will be allowed to return. And we root for Merlin. We know he is good. We know, as his father Balinor says, that Merlin is </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">a son of the earth, the sea, the sky. Magic is the fabric of this world, and [Merlin was] born of that magic. [Merlin is] magic itself.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> All the same, it’s possible to interpret him as a Moses or a John the Baptist. Christianity and magic do not have to be incompatible. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Still, where are the women? I am not the only one who has raised this cry. Arthur gets Gwen, but I feel as if that relationship definitely takes a backseat to the bond Arthur has with Merlin (and all the shippers go “yay!”). None of the poor knights seem to have relationships with anyone. I guess that’s partly the nature of knighthood - who’s got time for romance when you’re questing and fighting and rooting out evil all the time? Gwaine finally gets a girl in season 5 and guess what? She’s evil, too. I know there’s only so much the series could do, and perhaps romantic relationships for more of the characters were just too burdensome to tackle. I’m actually O.K. with that, since I know in spite of my own passion for romance novels and happily ever afters that not everyone thinks a love connection has to be the main goal in life. I LIKE that a television show chose to focus less on that and more on the richness of friendship. I really do. We need to see more of that on TV. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are a few characters beyond Gwen who give a more positive image of women. Hunith, Merlin’s mother, is warm and welcoming, and fiercely protective of her son. She lives simply and is humble, and intelligent. Sadly, she is the only mother of a main character we see in true relationship with that character. Where is Gwen’s mother? Morgana’s died. Arthur’s died. We see few mothers, and that breaks my heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">We get a powerful and discerning queen in Queen Annis. Elena, a prospective bride for Arthur, seems fine, if a bit blah - and traditional. But other women don’t come off so well - Gaius’ old love Alice has an evil monster in her trunk, Vivian, another prospective bride for Arthur, is a blonde doofus. And who can forget Uther’s hilariously disgusting troll wife? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then there’s Freya. Ah, Freya. Merlin finally gets the girl. But only for one episode, albeit a very powerful episode. Is there a Merlinian alive who wasn’t moved by the kiss those two exchanged - and especially by the tear that rolled down Merlin’s face? Didn’t we all hope that somehow, some day, Freya and Merlin could find a way to be together? Yet this girl is a cursed beast, whom everyone else except Merlin sees as an evil, terrifying monster. Was it a great device to set up the Lady of the Lake? Sure. But does the Freya plotline give us a favorable depiction of women? You tell me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">So when we ask where are the women, there are actually quite a few to be found; they’re just not as prominent as some of the male characters. I’m sure I’ve missed some - let me know if I’ve omitted a favorite. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">One could make arguments on both sides as to whether or not the portrayal of women in the Merlin series is good or bad. Of the women who wield great power, most of them do so in what we the audience deem an evil way. They are motivated by the desire for power and/or revenge, motivators typically seen as negatives. The Old Religion - a religion in which women featured prominently - is decried as evil. A lot of this goes hand-in-hand with the original legends and the messages those legends seeked to impart, immersed in Christian ideals and imagery. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">For me the scales tip in favor of the good. From the start Morgana and Gwen show independent spirits and make their own decisions. Yes, they are sometimes circumscribed by the circumstances and realities around them. As I’ve rewatched it recently, I’m glad to realize that Morgana was never the retiring wallflower I somehow remembered from that first season. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwen, too, has a great deal of freedom and spirit for the limitations of her character. I certainly wish they had done much more with her after she assumed the queenship; I’d hoped they’d show more lovey-doveyness between Arthur and her, for one (sorry, Romance Queen here). I was annoyed that she seemed to kind of melt into the background at the beginning of season 5. But I love the scenes in which we saw her ruling alongside Arthur. She offers counsel to him - in front of others, and often at odds with what he or the other men had proposed - and he would listen and usually agree. That’s a partnership. I loved that he treated her as an equal in decision making.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">She IS an equal. She is powerful. Nothing conveys this more beautifully than the haunting image of Gwen in the final moments of season 5, sitting alone on the throne, regal and serene-looking as we the audience are falling apart over Arthur’s death. We know from previous scenes that she has deduced Merlin is a great wizard, the great sorcerer - and we induce from her reactions that she’s O.K. with that. The idea that magic may again be freely practiced flares up with new hope, and it is that image of hope that sustains our belief that in spite of Arthur’s death, Merlin did not fail in his destiny. Arthur WAS the greatest king Albion had ever known. And now the destiny of the kingdom rests not on Merlin’s shoulders, but on the shoulders of a powerful, just, and loyal woman. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Long Live The Queen!</i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-39784673687166606102013-04-27T19:07:00.001-04:002013-04-28T18:58:17.078-04:00Holy Moses! Is That Merlin?<span id="docs-internal-guid-66af1558-4d99-746a-02a3-372bae6e9192"></span><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-66af1558-4d99-746a-02a3-372bae6e9192"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watching the final episode of Merlin roused a myriad of emotions in me, as it did for the show’s devoted fans. Most, from my understanding, were/are enraged that Arthur died, and that a number of the promises made to the audience over the last five years, especially that of Merlin being able to practice magic openly, went unfulfilled. I know there is a growing movement of people whose goal is to <a href="http://moremerlin.blogspot.com/">bring back Merlin</a> - to erase the season 5 ending and produce either a season 6, or a mini-series, or even a movie that provides a more satisfactory ending. </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m all for that. I love Merlin and I, too, want more. But I was not as devastated by the ending as many others were. I think there are two reasons for that: 1) I was somewhat prepared, having peeked at the last 10 minutes of the final episode on YouTube before I even started the final season, so I knew Arthur’s demise was imminent, and 2) I also knew that, according to the legends, Arthur was destined to die before his time at the hands of Mordred, and to be buried at Avalon, with the belief and hope that he would return again - he is, after all, the Once and Future King. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Do I lament the end of the series? Certainly. Do I think the final scene of Merlin in modern times was horrendous? Yes. Do I wish the show had answered more questions and kept more of its promises? Absolutely. But to expect a truly happy ending might have been too much, even for a series which often altered the legends to fit its narrative. Because the legends say Arthur dies. The legends say Arthur is the savior. He will come in Albion’s greatest time of need. He will rise again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sound familiar? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is not an uncommon motif, the idea that a great man, perhaps a warrior, most definitely a savior, will die too early, but will rise again. It appears in ancient myths around the world, and is, of course, central to the Christian faith. Jesus died for us, Christians believe, but he will come again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Most of us in the western world are familiar with the basic tenets of Judeo-Christian belief, regardless of whether or not we consider ourselves Christian. Most people who know something about the Arthurian tales and legends also know the stories are grounded in Christian ideology. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Although I was vaguely cognizant of that as the series played out, it came to the forefront again as I watched the final two episodes, especially the scene in which Merlin sees his father in the Crystal Cave. Here’s a transcript of part of that scene:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Balinor: “Merlin...” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin: “Are you here? Are you real?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Balinor: “Dead or alive, real or imagined, past or present: these things are of no consequence. All that matters is that you heed the words of your father who loves you. Do not let go, Merlin. Do not give in. You’re more than a son of your father. You’re a son of the earth, the sea, the sky. Magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic. You are magic itself. Believe what your heart knows to be true: that you have always been, and always will be.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin, after thanking his father: “I follow in your footsteps...”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Balinor: “Your journey has only just begun. You wield a power you cannot yet conceive of. Only at the heart of the Crystal Cave will your true self be revealed. Move towards the light. Destiny awaits. Don’t be afraid. Trust in what you are. Trust in what will be.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin: “Good-bye, father.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Balinor: “There are no goodbyes, Emrys. for I will always be, as you will always be.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ooh. Ooh. I LOVED this scene. It gives me chills again, just to read those words. Who can hear that and NOT see the Christian imagery? It’s as if Jesus is talking to God in the Garden of Gethsemane. It’s the Gospel of John, in the idea that Merlin/Emrys has always been and will always be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I was watching it, I exclaimed to myself (silently, lest the cats think I'm crazy), Merlin IS the Holy Spirit! He works in the world with very few knowing. He is the light of the world. He is the Holy Spirit to Arthur’s Jesus. And Arthur as Jesus figure is not hard to see, right? It’s in the medieval legends, and it’s here in modern-day “Merlin,” as well: the great man who wants to do what’s right and bring good into the world, who will be betrayed and die young, but who leaves us with hope, as it has been foretold he will come again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then came the final episode. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We see Merlin stride to the top of the mountain, garbed in long, flowing robes, staff grasped firmly in his hand. As he raises the staff to cast his spells, his white hair and beard blow in the wind. Was I the only one who suddenly thought I was watching Moses in “The Ten Commandments”? And is it not fitting imagery? Merlin leads his people out from the Saxons... and the evil of Morgana, as Moses led the slaves out of Egypt. Moses parts the Red Sea; Merlin hurls lightning bolts and repels the dragon. Even their names start with M and have the same number of syllables! Hee hee. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once I had that image in my head, I couldn’t help but cast the rest of the characters according to their Christian counterparts. It doesn’t work perfectly; some people I can find no logical Judeo-Christian figure for, such as Morgause. If you know of one, let me know! And others, especially Merlin, fit in more than one role. I’m O.K. with that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Also, a disclaimer: I am not an expert in all things Arthurian, nor in all things Christian. Not by any means. And while I could have spent time doing research on both, I opted not to, as that seemed a large rabbit hole in which to jump. One could easily write a dissertation on Christian imagery in the Arthurian legends - and I’m sure many already have. Maybe somebody someday will even analyze this BBC series in depth for how its narrative and symbols fit into the Christian context of Arthurian myths. But that person won’t be me. </span><b id="docs-internal-guid-66af1558-4d99-746a-02a3-372bae6e9192" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not an expert on this <i>Adventures of Merlin</i> series, either, having watched it once, in the space of a month, and without reading up about it on the Merlin wiki or without investigating many of the Merlin websites out there. </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nonetheless, this is what I came up with:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin = Moses & Holy Spirit</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He works in the world, but in some ways is not of the world. He, and we, are constantly reminded he is different, even from those who also have magic. He is </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Emrys</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, which means immortal. I love the humorous scene in Episode 7 of season 5 in which Old Merlin (or “The Great Dragoon”) challenges the prison guards: when they ask him who he is, he answers, “I am who I am, and I am who I was, and I am who I shall always be.” It makes us laugh, but it speaks truth, too, if we see him as the Holy Spirit, right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arthur = Christ</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He is born of magic, much like the miracle of Jesus born of the Virgin Mary. While this Arthur is certainly not sinless, he is often described as being “pure of heart” or “having a good heart.” He is betrayed by someone he thought was his friend. Mordred spears Arthur in the side, much like the Roman soldier pierced Jesus’ side. I believe Arthur dies on the 3rd day after his wound, as Merlin is trying to get him to Avalon. Arthur is destined to die, but he will rise again. He will return when the need is greatest. He is Hope personified. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Guin = Mary Magdalene</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, some may take umbrage at this. Dan Brown was not the first, however, to suggest a relationship between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. Regardless of what their relationship status may have been, we learn that Mary Magdalene is not of high social status, and in the beginning Guin is a servant. Even Guin’s infidelity may bring up echoes of Mary Magdalene’s association with being a woman of low morals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Morgana = Lucifer</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or Satan. But specifically Lucifer - she is the fallen angel. She deserts her father, challenging him for power, just as Lucifer deserted God. She works with snakes! Even her hair was looking more Medusa-like by season 5. She is evil, lusting for power. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mordred = Judas </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He becomes a close confidante of Arthur’s, a favored knight. And then he betrays him. How many pieces of silver does it take to craft a dragon sword? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Knights = The Disciples</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwaine, Percival, Elion, Leon. They are Arthur’s disciples. I think in medieval lore there were twelve, whereas here we get the fearsome foursome. Fivesome if you count Lancelot, I guess. But they are loyal to Arthur through and through. Christians are sometimes described as “soldiers of Christ,” and here we have actual soldiers - knights - pledging their fealty, their loyalty, their allegiance, to Arthur until their dying breath. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gaius = John the Baptist</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was stuck on Gaius for a little bit, but then I realized he comes before Merlin, and is learned in magic, but just a shadow of what Merlin will be. He knows who Merlin truly is, and helps him on the path toward his destiny, just as John the Baptist does for Jesus. The name Gaius also reminds me of Gaia, meaning earth in Greek, tying him to the Celtic/druid/natural world traditions. He is of both worlds, the new and the old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Balinor = The Lord</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He is Merlin’s father. He is also a Dragon Lord. Hearing father and lord makes me think of the God the Father, and Jesus our Lord. I also liked the idea that Merlin becomes a Dragon Lord, and what is Arthur’s and Morgana’s surname? Pendragon. Meaning Chief Dragon. So Merlin is a Dragon Lord, Lord also of the Pendragons. Think of how much he impacts the destiny of both Arthur AND Morgana. He rather is their Lord, isn’t he, but washing their feet as a servant, much as Jesus did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Camelot = Eden/Paradise</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The promise of a better Camelot is the promise of paradise on Earth again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Dragons = Wisdom / Conscience</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t know what to make of the dragons, to be honest. I know they appear in medieval Christian imagery, especially the idea of the knight slaying the dragon. In this modern TV series, we have two: the great black dragon Kilgharrah, and the small, white dragon Aithusa. A brief look at Wikipedia told me dragons are often associated with nature/the universe, with power, and with wisdom. This makes sense, as Merlin often goes to the dragon for aid, for his wisdom. Sounds a bit like the Tree of Knowledge - which was guarded by a snake, right? And dragons are often depicted as snake-like. Reaching? Probably, but it works for me! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Other Christian imagery pervades the series. One episode deals with the Cup of Life, also known as the Holy Grail, which, according to Christian lore, Jesus used at the Last Supper, and which Joseph of Arithmathea used to collect Jesus' blood while he was on the cross. It can restore life. We see the unicorn, a symbol of purity and grace that was also sometimes seen as a symbol of Christ. We see a griffin, a kingly creature that also came to be associated with Christ in the medieval period. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">None of these ideas are new. I haven’t thought up anything revolutionary. But the fact that these characters, these ideas, this story isn’t new actually was comforting to me. Because the great message of Christianity is one of hope, is it not? Hope that we will not perish forever, but will have eternal life. Hope that goodness does not permanently die; it will rise again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And sadly, in Christian belief, the great truth is that without Jesus’ death, this hope would not have been activated. He had to die for us to be redeemed. And thus to follow our comparison, Arthur HAD to die to activate the hope of his great return. Did he have to die to end the series? No, of course not. We could have had a quite blissful ending in which Arthur and Guinevere and Merlin all live happily ever after in Camelot for years. But Arthur would eventually die. Would Camelot then be lost forever? Having the idea that he will return gives us hope that all is not lost. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course this series, and the characters of Arthur and Merlin, don’t completely follow a Christian ideal. I love the fact that Merlin and especially Arthur are flawed. They have real-life quirks. They are often blind to truth, and stubborn, and silly. They are human. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then there is the idea of magic and sorcery, not an idea we read as much about in the Bible, right? But here we hear about the Old Religion, and Merlin seeks a blending of the old and the new. This makes the Unitarian in me happy: the blending of the Old ways and the new ways. The idea that faith systems are not inherently evil or wrong - it’s how the people in those belief systems choose to behave. Magic is not good or bad in and of itself; it’s how it is used. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And that is why the ending didn’t devastate me as much as it could have. Merlin’s grief is all-consuming, and I felt that grief keenly. To see such a friendship severed is excruciating to bear. But I choose to believe that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin and Arthur are never truly apart, for while they may be divided physically on Earth, they are two sides of the same coin. They are soul mates (not in a shipping/sexual way, people, as I blogged about<a href="http://thewholeannechilada.blogspot.com/2013/04/merlin-and-arthur-and-merthur-oh-my.html"> here</a>.). They are the Holy Spirit and Jesus, each in each other. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And as much as I, and many other Merlin fans, wanted a time in which Merlin could use his magic freely in Camelot, I think we are left with the promise that that will happen. In Guin’s time. For she has now learned of his secret, and she seems approving. Morgana has finally been defeated. Good has triumphed over evil. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we are left with the promise that Arthur will return. Hope reigns eternal. </span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-41176976200370304272013-04-22T13:30:00.003-04:002013-04-22T15:54:21.931-04:00Merlin and Arthur and Merthur - Oh My!<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"></b><br />
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<b><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Warning: Spoilers ahead, including season 5!</i></span></b></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I admit it. I’m addicted to the BBC series “Merlin”. I only started watching it via Netflix a few weeks ago on the recommendation of my dear friend Kary, who kept raving about it. A few weeks, and I’ve already inhaled seasons 1-4. I’m now waiting on season 5, which hasn’t aired in the US yet and thus isn’t available on Netflix. It’s, uh, arriving in the mail tomorrow from Amazon. </span></b></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I already know how the series ends, however, because of the magic of the internet (thank you, YouTube. I think.) and my impatient nature. See, I started a <a href="http://pinterest.com/thetjadedlife/merlin/">Pinterest board</a> to pin up pics of the stars of the show, Colin Morgan and Bradley James, but kept coming across images from the final season. With good reason - it is is a powerful ending. Powerful and amazing and sad. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I’m getting ahead of myself. </span></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve always had an interest in the Arthurian legends. The characters of Arthur and Merlin and Guinevere and Lancelot are known to about anyone familiar with Western Civ. I’m pretty sure I took a class in college or grad school that read through some of the lit, as I have vague memories of L’Morte d’Arthur and Geoffrey of Monmouth. So that brought up a natural curiosity about the show: what spin would it put on the stories? Would it stay true to the mythology? And how are they going to get away with such a young, cute Merlin?</span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And he is cute, which is another reason I happily dove into episode 1. I have always been a sucker for a good-looking man, and this show promised at least two. I also, er, like shows and books that, um, apparently are aimed at 14 year old girls (Twilight, anyone?), so the “Camelot High” tone, as Kary described it, of the 1st season, was quite fun. The silly, improbable plot twists - in season 1 and throughout the series - are mostly fun, too. Some of them you want to roll your eyes at, others seem impossibly clever (Guinevere as a servant?). </span></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The show also very smartly draws you in using familiar but effective tropes. First, as already stated, most of the myths and legends are somewhat familiar to us, so we think as an audience we know what to expect. But not completely - just enough to keep us (or at least me) hooked, and to have us (me) nodding, “Oh yeah!” when certain events (Excalibur) or characters (Sir Gwaine) pop up. Second, we know secrets the characters don’t. Kind of like Merlin, who knows all about Arthur’s destiny and Merlin’s own role in it, when no one else does (O.K., outside of Gaius). So we feel armed with secret knowledge, and that keeps us on the edge of our seats, wondering if and when the characters will see what’s really going on. We know Morgana has turned evil long before most of the characters do. Same with Aggravaine. And of course we’re privy to Merlin’s magic, something he must keep hidden from very nearly everyone, which makes us feel more connected to him, as if we’re in league with him. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The characters are familiar, too - not just because of who they are in historical legend, but because of the classic temperaments/personality types they embody. I recently saw a pin on Pinterest comparing the four main characters - Merlin, Arthur, Guinevere, and Morgana - with the four main Houses in Harry Potter. It’s an apt comparison. Those kinds of characters work, especially when paired with each other. Opposites really do attract, and the dichotomy of the personalities and how their differences and similarities play off each other makes for very compelling storytelling - in Merlin, and across other fictional works throughout history. We seem to like those opposites. They speak to us - we can see a little of ourselves in one character or another. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arthur is the quintessential alpha male. As he should be; he’s the Prince who will become a King. He embodies the ultimate in masculinity - he’s courageous, valorous, a champion. Bradley James completely looks the part, with his muscular frame and square jawline, his crisp, sexy British accent. He just looks... kingly. </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwx5tEPUfPyB_3zPRxN39KfCJg5RZ2uFHu7qwP5a4cHfQ437QKghCr1u367xRjIlpo8yfHi11QUKOfphbzyOU810-gff6OznA6es91BTYNOV3kAUMbDkqUcq4b7DC_Fy6nyk3bICxeZ2E/s1600/merlin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwx5tEPUfPyB_3zPRxN39KfCJg5RZ2uFHu7qwP5a4cHfQ437QKghCr1u367xRjIlpo8yfHi11QUKOfphbzyOU810-gff6OznA6es91BTYNOV3kAUMbDkqUcq4b7DC_Fy6nyk3bICxeZ2E/s200/merlin.jpg" width="200" /></a><b style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merlin is the intellectual, the scholar, the helper. Colin Morgan is certainly attractive, but no one is </span></b><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">going to mistake Merlin for a big, beefy knight. He’s not supposed to look like that. He’s supposed to look wise and magical, and he does - like a sprite. He’s loyal, dependable, humble, and true. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Guin is the solid, dependable friend, Morgana the beauty with an evil desire for power inside. We’ve seen it all before. And we still love it. </span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But really, if all it were were pretty people and familiar characterizations, I wouldn’t be this obsessed with this show. I’ve seen and enjoyed plenty of other shows like that. I watch Glee and Vampire Diaries weekly and enjoy them immensely. But it’s not the same. Why?</span></b></b><br />
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<b><b><span style="font-family: Arial; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; vertical-align: baseline;">Because of the depth of the relationship between Arthur and Merlin. </span></b></b></span></b></b></div>
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<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s amazing, it’s intoxicating, it’s incredibly moving. And it’s so exciting to see such a real, emotional connection between men, a true male friendship. Much of their friendship, of course, is unspoken - they ridicule each other, malign each other, curse each other (especially Arthur’s treatment of Merlin), but we as the audience see - through their body language, their facial expressions, the depth of emotion in their eyes - how these two really feel about each other. It’s a bond that largely remains unspoken throughout the series, until the very end. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is where the actors in this show absolutely amaze me. Colin Morgan and Bradley James are so adept at expressing a multitude of feelings just through their eyes and body language alone. I know that that is what acting is all about, but believe me, I don’t know many actors who pull it off as well as these two do. You can see the pain behind Arthur’s teasing, see the sorrow behind Merlin’s grin. And, oh, how Colin/Merlin can cry. In this era of “real men don’t cry,” is it not refreshing to see men showing real tears? It is for me. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The intensity of this relationship, especially in the last few episodes, has had people across the </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">internet speculating and ‘shipping’ the characters - and the actors. Such a relationship must go beyond friendship, they seem to argue - it must be romantic and sexual. No men interact that way with each other unless they’re involved in a physical way. I’ve heard there is a lot of fan fiction describing explicit sexual encounters between Arthur and Merlin. I’ve seen suggestive pictures on Pinterest. There are lots of references to ‘Merthur’ and ‘Brolin’. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Really? Really? Why must we always go there? Why do we, as a culture, assume that if two men show genuine caring and emotional involvement with each other, they must be gay? </span></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not, as Seinfeld says, that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m a staunch supporter of gay rights and gay marriage, have lots of friends and family members who are gay, and have absolutely no problem with the variety of sexual orientations that are out there. </span></b></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it frustrates me that that seems to be the only conclusion many people can draw about these characters - and about the off-screen, real-life friendship between Colin Morgan and Bradley James. The question that overshadows a lot of things is, is their relationship (Merlin/Arthur, or Colin/Bradley) sexual or not? </span></b></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For me, sexualizing the relationship between Merlin and Arthur cheapens it, and cheapens what the two actors were able to accomplish in their portrayal of it. They have a bromance, for sure, but I don’t think it was intended to be a romance. Merlin had Freya, albeit very briefly. Arthur showed interest in a variety of women, not just Guin - although the family-friendly nature of the show kept all of that quite tame. But even if they hadn’t thrown in those plot points, I still think that friendship, a soul-connected friendship, is what binds Merlin and Arthur. They ARE two sides of the same coin. Why can’t we imagine intense, emotionally-intimate friendships between men that don’t involve physical intimacy?</span></b></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course another good question is, does it matter? Does it matter if the relationship between Merlin </span></b></b></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and Arthur, or between Colin and Bradley, DOES go beyond friendship? This seems to be a driving question of our time - we seem obsessed as a society with figuring out who’s gay and who’s not. I even had to admit that I spent some time yesterday on Google, trying to see what I could find out about Mr. Morgan and Mr. James. Why? It doesn’t affect me personally. It was rather offensive for me to even be prying into that, when I really thought about it. I will never meet Colin Morgan or Bradley James, much less have a relationship with either one of them (sigh), so what difference does it make to me?</span></b></b></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 1.15;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></b>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475" style="line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I guess because I LOVE the idea of two men getting the opportunity to experience the miracle of such a close bond - on screen and off. Friendship is powerful. Powerful. Knowing someone is there for you, that they’ve got your back. Being willing to have theirs. Wanting what’s best for them. Truly loving them. There’s nothing like it. </span></b></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0lo9x8cv7CKJ5PUzmTgnepGCha1mC9I0RwtinP9ir33C6RpIvS9W6YukjeKZ4VokuFHmwYZwzlI5ubn3sj3IeksAMizs7imeP2khY5Q3qB6E-zq_aMLnbvIAhsbMPC0dZexWGqIXkFA/s1600/cm_bj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0lo9x8cv7CKJ5PUzmTgnepGCha1mC9I0RwtinP9ir33C6RpIvS9W6YukjeKZ4VokuFHmwYZwzlI5ubn3sj3IeksAMizs7imeP2khY5Q3qB6E-zq_aMLnbvIAhsbMPC0dZexWGqIXkFA/s200/cm_bj.jpg" width="166" /></a></div>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But friendship is undervalued. And to see a friendship like this - between MEN - is thrilling. Because I want my son to have friendships like that. I want my son, and all other men, to feel ABLE to have friendships like that. Many men do, I know. I suspect others, especially young men, keep their guy friends at a distance because they don’t want their attentions to be mistaken for something else. It’s sad that it would even matter - the only people to whom one’s sexuality should really make a difference, I think, are the person him/herself and whomever they’re dating. But it still does. And it’s damaged male friendship along the way.</span></b></b></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, people, I know it’s a television show. It’s not real. But it has reminded me again of some of the most powerful experiences in my own life: the devastation of betrayal and loss, and the healing balm of friendship and connection. It’s a show about ideals, portrayed in some idealistic and of course unachievable ways, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t speak truths about loyalty, loss, love, and friendship. And speak them magnificently.</span></b></b></b></b></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.5884537803940475"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-84896870426652763162013-04-07T09:24:00.003-04:002013-04-07T09:26:50.580-04:00The Baking Competition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELZUoH-otkkIW0BBRpOEYpWa-nV9-9R-cKqI1rRg47T7p-6_XV2PLHbyzSAJtAM2InoDnt4yS3GkNsYq0OgTGGvZjg6IiplB2uBt0TdfLSln0CAHcLJuIgjXsB3o2CeEViNM274Qy2Xg/s1600/baking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELZUoH-otkkIW0BBRpOEYpWa-nV9-9R-cKqI1rRg47T7p-6_XV2PLHbyzSAJtAM2InoDnt4yS3GkNsYq0OgTGGvZjg6IiplB2uBt0TdfLSln0CAHcLJuIgjXsB3o2CeEViNM274Qy2Xg/s200/baking.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
It's so fun to watch children's minds at work, isn't it?<br />
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My daughter, who's almost 7, is always coming up with zany ideas, such as building a surfboard out of the living room couch cushions (as she's doing right now) or constructing her own puppet theater out of a cardboard box or coming up with a way of getting more desserts out of mom and dad.<br />
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The latter was her objective recently, as a week or so ago she announced we were going to have a baking competition. Never mind that she doesn't really bake. She excels at helping to pour ingredients and insists on standing in front of the mixer so that actually making any given recipe feels somewhat like playing a game of Twister. But mom is the baker.<br />
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This time, however, mommy was the judge. And daddy and Ellie were going to be the contestants. Ellie chose a recipe that had been hanging on the kitchen cabinet for weeks - a chocolate peanut butter Oreo whipped cream dessert. Apparently she was tired of just ogling it and wanted us to actually make it, darn it. Ironically, her dessert required no actual baking, just the assembling and mixing of ingredients. Daddy decided to make cookie dough skillets - warm cookie dough smothered in ice cream. Clearly he was trying to influence the judge (me), since he knows I far prefer cookie dough to any actually finished cookie product.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ujo0EpD-zRsA99LP-AJtN4eJvxiRFeDKk6OdHvIETiv4KK1Ax7wL8dpj1tGYqnLVfganT7GfXBnrGAurZHhjyybJWO6dXtuvn-9oDLAmFRspoeVo2Qqg14KZ_gMx0JdJLFKq_ygY2y4/s1600/brettcookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ujo0EpD-zRsA99LP-AJtN4eJvxiRFeDKk6OdHvIETiv4KK1Ax7wL8dpj1tGYqnLVfganT7GfXBnrGAurZHhjyybJWO6dXtuvn-9oDLAmFRspoeVo2Qqg14KZ_gMx0JdJLFKq_ygY2y4/s200/brettcookies.jpg" width="158" /></a></div>
Yesterday the competition commenced at 10:00 a.m. Ellie read her recipe by herself and helped pour ingredients, although I did, um, command the mixer. But she crushed the Oreos and followed all of the steps carefully, gleefully pushing Reese's Peanut Butter cups into the final product. Meanwhile I was so excited about husband making cookies on his own that I snapped his pic. I'm not sure he appreciated that.<br />
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In any case, once the baked items were done we all dutifully fulfilled our obligations of testing the creations. It was a hardship, to be sure. The two judges (my son and I) decided to make it a democratic vote and allow every family member to pick their favorite. Ellie's won 3 to 1, with Brett voting AGAINST his own dessert!<br />
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We're pretty sure we'll be having more baking competitions in the future, given that we all got to have TWO desserts in one day.<br />
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What I want to know is, how did the judge end up doing all the dishes?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-57450717824689032482013-03-26T16:32:00.002-04:002013-03-26T16:32:45.642-04:00The Grumps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do you ever get the grumps for no reason?<br />
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I do. Only in all likelihood, there's always a reason. Sometimes I know what it is, other times it takes me a while to figure it out.<br />
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I'm grumpy today. A big fat ol' whiny grump.<br />
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1) I'm carless. The van is in the fix-it shop and has a zillion things wrong with it, so it's going to cost big bucks. We're getting close to the point where we need to decide if it's worth it to keep feeding cash into this thing, or replace it. Only replacing it will cost even more moola than the repairs currently are.<br />
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2) I'm catless. O.K., semi-catless. Scilla is at the vet, and we're all waiting for her to pee so that we can maybe begin to figure out why she's peeing on things at home that aren't her litter box. And again, it's already costing us big bucks in terms of buying a carpet shampooer and all the shampoos that go with it, visiting a different vet, buying another litter box, etc. And now I'm sure we will have more bills as we attempt to figure the cat out.<br />
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3) I'm chocolateless. And grumpy. And probably going through some serious chocolate/caffeine withdrawal if my headache is any indication. In fact, if I had chocolate, #1 and #2 might not bother me so much. O.K., they would - but at least I'd have chocolate. Why doesn't anyone deliver chocolate?<br />
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Those are the big three. Plus my son came home with a fever today, and I'm feeling unappreciated for all I do by those closest to me (which is likely the biggest thing, but the one about which I feel like writing the least). All of that equals One Grumpy Anne.<br />
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And finally, I'm not writing. Not books, anyway. I feel guilty. I feel anxious. I feel like I should be typing out that next novel - and I should. But I also know realistically I have a lot of research to do. However, maybe I should just type away and put [INSERT INFO HERE] brackets into the manuscript or something. I don't know. I just know I have that restless feeling I felt last fall, before I buckled down and finished my draft of "A Man of Character". Which I need to edit.<br />
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O.K., so that's a whole bunch of stuff. Some big. Some little.<br />
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And to counteract it, I need to promote a little gratitude. So here it goes:<br />
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1) Even though the van and the cat are going to cost a lot of money, we will be able to pay for it. That is such a blessing and a luxury, and I know it. We can afford it.<br />
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2) I will have chocolate again.<br />
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3) My son will get better again. It may take a few days, but he will.<br />
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4) I will write again, and will figure out how to edit. Rome wasn't built in a day, and Tacitus' history of Rome wasn't written in a day. At least I think it wasn't.<br />
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5) I will feel appreciated again. Either we'll talk it out, or time will soothe the wound. But this feeling will pass.<br />
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In the meantime, I still love Grumpy Cat. I wonder if it pees on the carpet?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-28209084810178426292013-03-25T14:06:00.002-04:002013-03-25T14:06:48.652-04:00Stealing Food<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeGeZS4Nld6tRdXl_eeWIz6pkTJRmVrITYDXKFzDne3ParAJQg8xK0sWjMAnXK5v2wrJMY6eG4BDPcOXQf_t6SAPy6KX5LjnFuxtzJkrTveH52OXuXB2cp559pAEDqpxToR13FVoA2E4/s1600/garfield_-_stealing_cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeGeZS4Nld6tRdXl_eeWIz6pkTJRmVrITYDXKFzDne3ParAJQg8xK0sWjMAnXK5v2wrJMY6eG4BDPcOXQf_t6SAPy6KX5LjnFuxtzJkrTveH52OXuXB2cp559pAEDqpxToR13FVoA2E4/s320/garfield_-_stealing_cookies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I walked out from my bedroom at the back of the house and strolled into the kitchen, where my son was standing. He gave me an odd look, suddenly blurted "I need to use the restroom!", and practically ran out of the room. As he did so, however, I noticed he seemed to be shielding his right arm from me. As he approached the hallway, I could see he had something clenched in his hand.<br />
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"What's in your right hand?" I called out after him.<br />
"Wh...whut?" he answered.<br />
"Your right hand. You have something in it. What is it?"<br />
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Chagrined, he opened both hands to reveal two cookies.<br />
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"I just thought I'd have some cookies with lunch," he said defensively.<br />
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Inwardly I felt my heart break a little. I get the wanting cookies. Hell, I want cookies all the time. But to see, clearly, that he was not only sneaking food but was also lying about it made me want to cry. Because it reminds me so much of me.<br />
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"You were sneaking!" I exclaimed, to let him know I wasn't an idiot. "You were sneaking food, and now you tried to lie about it!"<br />
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He just stared at me.<br />
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"Bring them back to the kitchen!"<br />
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So he did, stomping the whole way. He threw the cookies back in their container and trounced down to his room.<br />
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And I was left standing there, stunned and not knowing what to do.<br />
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Maybe to other parents this would be a clear-cut situation: the kid took something they weren't supposed to, and then tried to cover it up by lying about it, so obviously there needs to be a consequence.<br />
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But for someone like me, a food addict who stole food as a kid and still sneaks it today, it feels really, really difficult to know what the correct response should be.<br />
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Then, of course, I wondered WHY he's sneaking food. For how long has he been doing it? Is he starting down the path to compulsive eating like his mom? Can I fix it? HOW can I fix it, when I haven't even been able to fix it in myself?<br />
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We have become more restrictive about how many sweets the kids can have, for pure health's sake but also, I know, because my husband and I want the kids to avoid the physical and emotional struggles of being overweight. They are big kids. They like to eat. They crave sweets. Not surprising, given a) their mother and b) the prominence and hyping of food in our culture. So they're not the little twig kids other parents complain won't eat. We've never had that problem. Ever.<br />
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But we're trying not to be food Nazis, either - so we have dessert 3 times a week, once on the weekend, on whichever day they want. We occasionally splurge on extras. We allow a small "bready" snack every day. After that, it's fruits and veggies between meals.<br />
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And my son lets me know what he thinks of that. "Fruits and veggies! Fruits and veggies! That's all we ever have, fruits and veggies!"<br />
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It isn't, of course.<br />
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I am nothing if not the biggest hypocrite, because I can talk out one cheek about balance and the need for healthy eating, while stuffing the other with Pop Tarts and Hershey bars.<br />
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That's why this issue resonates with me - because I don't want either of my kids to be at war with food and self the way I am, and I don't want my hubby and I accidentally drawing battle lines where there needn't be any.<br />
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Argh. So I still don't know what to do about the cookie-stealing incident.<br />
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I guess I'll think about it while I go find my chocolate stash.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-38805955364346826132013-03-20T22:45:00.000-04:002013-03-20T22:50:45.011-04:00Nuremberg<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week my husband and I went to Nuremberg, Germany. For six days. Without kids. Hubby was attending a conference and therefore had obligations, but I was truly footloose and fancy free.<br />
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Nuremberg was marvelous - much better than I had expected. For as much as I consider myself a lover of Germany (after all, German was my major in college), it was embarrassing to realize I didn't really know much about Nuremberg. I wasn't even exactly sure where it was in Germany - was it south? In the old eastern part? (I can't believe I'm even admitting my ignorance about that OUT LOUD. Or on screen. Whatever.) Wasn't it the city that had been basically obliterated by bombs in WWII? (When I mentioned that to the husband, he said, "Uh, Anne? Basically any city of any size in Germany was obliterated by bombs during WWII.") But I realized later I'd been thinking of Dresden.<br />
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A little research before we left helped me to know that Nuremberg was in Bavaria, that it had an Imperial Palace, and that it was the city in which Albrecht Dürer had lived and painted. (This time points went to me, because when I mentioned with excitement that Dürer had lived there, husband looked at me and said, "Who?") I was reminded of the war trials, and was to learn after we arrived that it also had former Nazi rallying grounds. We chose not to visit those - too intense, too sad.<br />
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And not old enough for my tastes - I love the medieval period. I should, considering in my previous life (i.e., before marriage and kids) I was a doctoral student in medieval history at UVa. I have my masters in medieval history and am even one of those ABD people - you know, the ones who do all the course work and everything they need to do for the PhD, except write the actual dissertation. All But Dissertation. I feel as if that should be an official educational designation.<br />
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But I digress. The good news is, Nuremberg is a wonderful place for history lovers to visit, especially those interested in the late medieval and early modern time periods. At least Nuremberg's Altstadt (Old City) is - I'll be honest and admit we didn't tour any other places. And that was fine with me, because with 4 days to blow, I still didn't see everything I wanted to see while in the Altstadt.<br />
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What I did do was walk. And walk. And walk. I got more exercise last week than I probably have in months. Oh, the freedom the feeling of a good walk brings. And the delight of walking in a new place, rich with architecture and history, cannot be underestimated. I walked until my feet were dead and my shins were sore and I was exhausted, and I kept walking. Because there was just so much to see, and I wanted to see it all.<br />
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I loved being with my husband. I loved being kid-free (even though of course I love and missed my kids). But what I loved MOST about my week in Nuremberg? The times I walked alone. And since husband was busy presenting a paper and listening to other speakers, I had two whole days where by and large I was on my own.<br />
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It. Was. Awesome. I was beholden to no one. I could go where I wanted to go, see what I wanted to see. Dawdle or hurry, whichever I chose. I could take a zillion pictures or none at all. I could revel in the rich sights and sounds and scents of Germany.<br />
<br />
It made me feel young again, taking me back to the times I'd lived in Germany before - for four months in Wülfrath when I was 17, and for four months in Hamburg when I was 27. My German wasn't nearly as good as it was back in 1999, but it was good enough to communicate decently, listen to tours auf Deutsch, and read signs and pamphlets. (Several Germans told me my German was excellent, which I found highly flattering, especially since *I* knew how rusty it was. I was never once mistaken for an American - and three times people asked me for directions -, which made me proud, as I still had the ability to blend in (as well as, apparently, a friendly and approachable face)).<br />
<br />
I walked along the city walls. I took pictures of the towers. I visited churches, and marveled over the soaring columns and vaulted ceilings. I toured Albrecht Dürer's house and even enjoyed the corny English headphone tour. I shopped and drank hot chocolate and bought way too much Milka chocolate. I admired the houses and lifted my face to the air, enjoying the richness all around me.<br />
<br />
When I came home, I confessed to my mom somewhat guiltily that my favorite times in Nuremberg were the times I was on my own. She nodded slightly in agreement, smiled at me, and said, "Yeah. It's fun to learn you're still in there, isn't it? You're still your own person. You still exist."<br />
<br />
Yes. Yes, it is. Yes, I am. Yes, I do. My main hats I wear now are those of wife and mom. But underneath there is still Anne, the Anne that loves languages and history and books and architecture and castles and cobblestoned pathways and Streußelkuchen and the sheer joy of owning my own time again.<br />
<br />
For a while, at least. We had to come home. And coming home was hard - not just the physical exhaustion of traveling, but the emotional adjustment of having to reassume the burdens of every day life. There are certainly pleasures in every day life as well, of course, but one feels the challenges more keenly when one has escaped them cleanly for a week.<br />
<br />
But the good news is, I'm still in here. I still exist. And Germany is wunderbar.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-79071197858230455062013-03-19T12:40:00.001-04:002013-03-19T12:46:15.162-04:00On Writing. Or on NOT Writing. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwS3Fd1yoKSem7HwCib3dQzAWMy6er5w9dJG8H6ZvkgLR1GzqEBGxNgPUpK6pQI8t5uNKsDC7JisQ5kqXwU6LtXaf2l32FJypTLJwYXotSqMXRxZERe0fLAUCyAIfubiO2RFI_OqCi4Aw/s1600/Sloth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwS3Fd1yoKSem7HwCib3dQzAWMy6er5w9dJG8H6ZvkgLR1GzqEBGxNgPUpK6pQI8t5uNKsDC7JisQ5kqXwU6LtXaf2l32FJypTLJwYXotSqMXRxZERe0fLAUCyAIfubiO2RFI_OqCi4Aw/s320/Sloth.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
What is up with feeling so overwhelmed lately, especially in terms of writing? I have all these voices in my head again screaming "You'll never be able to do it, to get anything published."<br />
<br />
Augh. Shut up! Shut up! It's about doing it for me, anyway.<br />
<br />
I think part of it is that writing the first draft of my book was fun and relatively easy, but I really have no idea how to edit. By editing I mean editing for content and story flow, rather than just fixing punctuation and altering word choices. Is that it? Is that what has me freaked out? I don't want to go back and touch the first book because I like it, even though I KNOW from feedback it has room for improvement. I just feel paralyzed and I hate it. <br />
<br />
So I should move on for a bit and start on the next book, let this one sit and let the writing group take a crack at it so I know where to start, but even THAT is feeling scary. I don't know why - maybe because the next book requires a lot of real research, being set in the Regency period in England, and because I threw so much of my real life into the first book that it felt easy to come up with characters, etc.<br />
<br />
Or maybe it's just because I'm NOT doing anything that everything feels scary. The paralyzing effect of fear and the fear of paralysis, two parasites that feed off each other and off of me.<br />
<br />
So, new goals for the week:<br />
<br />
1. Write something every day. It's O.K. if it's blogging, or just a writing prompt, or sketching out story ideas. Just do it.<br />
2. Find a book/website on editing and read it.<br />
3. Jot down 3-5 ideas of ways I think I can strengthen the book. I don't have to DO them yet; just write them down. I submit the first chapter to my writing group in May, so it's O.K. to wait until then to attack it. I want to hear what others have to say.<br />
4. Remind myself daily and hourly that I'm writing because I want to. Would it be nice to get something published? Sure. Would it be nice to contribute to the family income, like my husband fantasizes about? Sure. But for now, I need to practice, practice, practice. Write, write, write. And act as if it doesn't matter if anyone else ever reads or likes what I've written - because that's what fueled me to finish the first draft of the first book; I reminded myself over and over it didn't matter if no one else liked it and it never went anywhere - it only mattered that I did it.<br />
<br />
And I need to be willing not only to learn how to edit, but to actually DO it. I read an article today entitled "<a href="http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/the-7-deadly-sins-of-self-editing">The 7 Deadly Sins of Self-Editing</a>," from WritersDigest.com. While I'm certainly guilty of envy and probably also of greed when it comes to writing, the sin I feel is most dogging me right now (in writing and in life, hee hee) is SLOTH:<br />
<br />
"<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The lazy scribe is one who’s failed to develop and utilize all her natural talents. To draft a story—and then stop there—is to ignore the very nature of literature, which constructs meaning through the deft layering of craft elements. If you find yourself bucking that notion, you may be guilty of sloth.</span><br />
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
<i style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Penance: </i>Just like with physical exercise, whipping your talent into shape takes time and dedication. You don’t jog once a year and end up with a perfect body. So it goes with your manuscript. To build the endurance skills you’ll need for marathon writing and revision, you must continuously train: Do writing prompts. Do<a href="http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/category/creative-exercises/" style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; color: #4a7e97; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title=" writing exercises"> writing exercises</a>. Keep your writing muscles toned through daily practice, and when you review your previous work, your mistakes and weak sections will become more apparent, you’ll be more capable of dealing with them, and you’ll be far less likely to walk away."</div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
So just like I need to get better at exercising and eating well, so do I also need to get better at practicing the daily skills of the craft. </div>
<div style="color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
Because I'm lazy. I'm lazy, peeps. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
Consistency is not my strong suit - I like to throw it all out there and be done, not have to go back and make revisions. It's how I write this blog most of the time. It's how I often approach life, I'm realizing. Which might explain a lot, actually. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
But to have natural talent (and I'm not trying to be arrogant, but I've been told by enough people for a long enough time that I am a good writer that I have come to accept I am, or can be) and be too lazy to hone it? Is that really me? </div>
<div style="color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
Well, it has been for far too long. And it is. I guess this is one way of trying to learn life skills via a focused approach on something I really enjoy: writing. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
Consistency and willingness is what it will take. Consistency and willingness is what it will take. Oh, and actually DOING the work instead of just talking about it. </div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
At least I can check off #1 on that goals list today. This started out as a hastily written Facebook status and has ended up as a hastily written blog post (which, according to the same WritersDigest.com article referenced above, makes me guilty of greed: "<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But building a career requires that you lay a strong foundation of </span><i style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">only your best work</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">—and nobody’s first draft is the best it can be."). </span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This blog post is not my best work. But it's more than I've written in at least two weeks. </span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #443f38; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unless I can count the captions on my Facebook pictures of our trip to Nuremberg. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">O.K., yeah, that was Sloth talking again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-29738254561294120232013-03-07T08:03:00.000-05:002013-03-07T08:03:03.164-05:00Alone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There are some days in which I just feel terribly, terribly alone.<br />
<br />
I'm sure I'm not unique in this; most of us go through good and bad days, days where we feel more connected and understood, and days where we don't.<br />
<br />
I'm also sure this feeling will pass. It always does. But it's good to remind myself that feelings are not facts, because right now I just want to burst into tears and rail at the universe.<br />
<br />
There is a reason for the loneliness today; it's the loneliness of a parent who feels she is failing her son, that she is missing something that would be the magic key to help him, that she will forever be worrying and wondering what kind of life he will have, and is there a remote chance of him being happy and successful?<br />
<br />
It doesn't feel like there's a chance right now. He's in his first year of middle school, and struggling. Struggling hard. Not socially, ironically, given his Aspie and TS diagnoses - he goes to a private school and has been in the same class with the same kids since kindergarten, and so while none of them have adopted my son as their "bestie", he's well-accepted and does not seem to suffer teasing from his peers. For this I am eternally grateful, and it is one of the many reasons we love the school where he is.<br />
<br />
But he's struggling academically this year, really struggling in many of his subjects. Not math. We never help him with math and he's pulling an A just fine there. This is one example I hold on to of knowing my kid is smart. That, and his ability to intuitively get any video game and know how to play it much more quickly and thoroughly than I ever could. And the kid has mad Lego skillz and can build amazing things from scratch with no instructions.<br />
<br />
So I don't think it's a matter of raw intelligence. What I don't know is how much of it is Aspie/TS related. And if we're missing a learning disability of some kind - which today, I fear, we must be missing. Because this kid cannot comprehend or retain what he reads very well. He gets the main ideas mixed up, states things that are not true that he thinks he gets from the material, can't retell or write about what he's just read. And I think that is what makes homework take FOREVER, and makes it excruciatingly frustrating for my husband and I as we try to help him. Things that seem like they should be relatively simple and straightforward are not. There doesn't seem to be anything "up there" in terms of recalling information. Several times my husband has griped we might as well be homeschooling, considering he doesn't seem to be learning anything at school and we're trying to do it all at home.<br />
<br />
And sometimes it feels like that. We get a lot of resistance from our son. He hates homework. Sometimes he seems flat out lazy (not just in homework, but in other areas of life, too), so we need to take a hard look at that. But with school work, I don't think that's entirely it. Granted, I feel as if the curriculum at his school is quite challenging - too challenging, in fact, in several subjects. Although if my son is the only one failing tests and assignments, perhaps I'm wrong.<br />
<br />
I don't know what to do. I don't know what the next step is. One minute I feel as if we're helping my son WAY too much, doing everything for him in a way that, of course, does not make him want to take up the reins and take responsibility himself - why should he, if mom and dad are doing it for him? The next I feel as if we're not doing enough - as if we're obviously missing something, not getting him services he needs, maybe, or just not understanding what the problem is.<br />
<br />
I don't even know where to turn for help. I don't know the first step. And that is what makes me feel so, so alone. My husband and I are in this together, but we have different feelings and beliefs that come into conflict more and more regarding our son. That's uncomfortable and saddening. We love our kids' school, but know from its size and budget it doesn't have the ability to provide the aid and resources a public school would. And that's maddening. I don't want him in the public school because I know THAT would bring up a whole bunch of social issues that we just don't need to be dealing with right now.<br />
<br />
Homeschooling does not seem like the solution, although I have to consider it. But considering we're at arms with each other just over homework, and that our son works harder to please outside adults, especially teachers, than he ever works for us (I know, we're his safe place), it just feels like that's not the right answer, either. I don't think God gave me the heart or patience for homeschooling. But I will consider it if it's the best solution.<br />
<br />
And we need a solution, because the strain on our son and our family is too high this year. It's too high. Jeff is clearly angry and frustrated and self-critical and, apparently, lazy, in wanting to avoid it all for the sake of a screen. Yes, I know some of this is probably pre-teen-itis. Yes, I know the strain has always been higher than for some other families because of the challenges of Tourette's and Asperger's. But the intensity is worse this year, and I'm exhausted. And alone. And sad. And scared.<br />
<br />
O.K., I'm those things today. But those feelings will pass. They will.<br />
<br />
Still, what to do? Where to turn? Who can help?<br />
<br />
I don't know. I don't know.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-4952390944814076942013-02-18T04:26:00.002-05:002013-02-18T04:29:21.342-05:00The Year of Living Hedonistically<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, it's almost over. My year of being 40. Soon I will turn 41 and fade off into the obscurity of smaller numbers and middle-aged overweight housewifery until 50 looms large. At which point I'll be an older overweight wifey chick.<br />
<br />
And what a year it's been. I'm not saying there have been huge dramatic events in my life. There haven't. But in the past year, I've:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Written a book. Yes, a real, full-length one.</li>
<li>Spent more than 3 months not eating anything with wheat, eggs, or dairy in it. While at the same time ingesting large amounts of potato chips and gummy bears.</li>
<li>Seen a naturopath - for my son and for myself - and tried a variety of supplements, some with wonky results for my son.</li>
<li>Gotten addicted to too many games again online. Words With Friends. Gems With Friends. Candy Crush Saga. CastleVille (but I gave that one up!). Time sucks, all of them. </li>
<li>Gone from working out fairly regularly to - well - not at all. </li>
<li>Dived face-first back into terrible junk food after giving up the giving up diet. And I can't seem to pull myself out of it. </li>
</ul>
<div>
<br />
See? Not much. The book is cool. The rest relates, as much of my life does, to food and weight and (lack of) movement. The common denominator for most of my experiences/emotions/entanglements these days. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The hard part is, right now I don't care. And it's pretty impossible to change something if you don't care. I feel so focused on this new writing life - which is cool, fun, thrilling, terrifying, and something I actually haven't been doing much of in the last month since finishing the book draft - that it feels O.K. to let all that pesky concern over eating well and exercising fall to the wayside. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Hey, people, I never said I was logical. At least not in this area. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, yeah, as I approach 41 I'm thinking I need to give up this hedonistic, epicurean approach to life. Because it's gonna come back to bite me in my huge ass. My steady diet of chocolate may seem relatively harmless now, especially since my weight, ironically, has stayed about the same since going back on the gluten (but let's not mention the 20 pounds I put back on after losing them last year. Darn things must have GPS.). But it isn't, and I WILL pay for it. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
So, please, unwilling, addicted brain: please consider trying again in small changes to improve your diet and get this body to move. I'm 40. I'm not dead. But I will be if I don't stop living in the fantasy world that what my physical body looks like is irrelevant now that I'm "old" and living in a world of fictional characters. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
And pardon the incoherency, but it's 4 in the morning, I'm getting sick, and my editing skills are therefore non-existent. Or at least unwilling to come out and play right now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-90070565627371550632013-02-13T21:52:00.000-05:002013-02-13T21:52:53.504-05:00Round 2Just a quick dash in today to express my excitement at making it to round 2 of Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Award contest. They winnowed the original 10,000 entries down to 2,000 - 400 each across 5 categories - by reading each entrant's pitch. Apparently they liked mine enough to shoot me through to the next test, which is that they read a 3000-5000 word excerpt of each of the remaining 2,000 works, and then cut those down to the top 500 overall.<br />
<br />
It's doubtful I will make it to round 3, but I'm O.K. with that. The thrill of having made it past the first hurdle is huge - as is the joy that more than fifty FB friends "liked" that I achieved this today. Thanks, peeps. I feel loved!<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-17406082736017779342013-02-10T08:33:00.000-05:002013-02-10T08:33:13.427-05:00Contentment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's a Sunday morning. Hubby is still sleeping. Son is on an overnight with the grandparents. And my daughter is sitting next to me in the same chair in which I am sitting, playing on the iPad and, as she puts it, "snuggling me."<br />
<br />
We're each doing our own thing, she Drawing Something, and me now crafting a blog post after repeated failures to pass level 102 in Candy Crush Saga. But it's lovely to be sitting here with my daughter, my 6 year old daughter, who laughs with delight at the antics on the screen, and still wants to snuggle with her mommy.<br />
<br />
She's such a daddy's girl that it's nice to get to have her all to myself right now. I am content on this Sunday morning, squished into this chair with my little mini me next to me. And content is good.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-12503419880114517382013-02-07T21:55:00.002-05:002013-02-07T21:55:29.368-05:00Self Censorship<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I write, I write as if I have an audience. As if someone else is reading these words other than me. Which, of course, with this being a blog, is the intent.<br />
<br />
But I've always done this, long before social media and online interactions made it so easy. I've actually always enjoyed writing more when I knew there was the possibility that someone would read it. That's why journaling never holds my interest for long - what's the point in writing just to myself, if the words are only for me? Isn't the point of writing the attempt at communication? (Clearly this is not true for everyone - but it is for me.)<br />
<br />
I have, of course, written diaries and journal entries in the past. Some of them I still have - my memories of my first serious love affair in college, my chronicling of my descent into bulimia and my railings against, well, what it seemed to mean to be a young woman in America in the 1990's and how I could never live up to other people's expectations. Others I've discarded along the way.<br />
<br />
But mostly I write as if you're reading it, whoever you are. What an egocentric thought, really, to expect that others want to hear what I have to say. But isn't that part of the human condition? The desire to make contact with, to communicate with, to be connected with others? We are all souls alone in our bodies and our minds, only able to relate to others through effort and intent, and it seems for most of us - extroverted or introverted - that we all need that. In varying degrees, but we all do. Like some famous person said, "No man is an island."<br />
<br />
Here's the thing. I read someone else's blog today. I read someone else's poem on their blog. And it was visceral and intense and honest and intimate, so much so that part of me felt uncomfortable reading it, even as the other part marveled over the author's adeptness with words, her amazing ability to express succinctly, in just a few lines, a myriad of emotions and experiences. Why was I uncomfortable? Because it was about sex. Not sex in general, not someone else's sex life, but about hers. And I felt I should run away.<br />
<br />
This actually cracked me up, seeing as how I want to write torrid romance novels, true bodice rippers. I don't want to write them because of the sex, but because of the love stories. But in romance novels, those stories are usually quite graphically linked with getting naked and doing stuff. And I'll admit, in a well-written romance novel, the steam adds to the story.<br />
<br />
Apparently it's a lot easier for me to read detailed smut than to write it. I discovered that recently while drafting my first novel. Granted, one of the reasons I didn't want a lot of gory details when it came to the main character's interactions with two of the other characters is because they are not the character with whom she is supposed to end up. And I'm enough of a romance junkie to still buy into the idea of there being "the one and only," in romantic fiction and in life (I love you, hubby!). So part of it was a conscious decision, but part of it was...<br />
<br />
... Knowing that people who know me would be reading it. They would know I wrote those words. And it makes me embarrassed. Like somehow this 40 year old overweight wife and mother of two kids shouldn't know anything about sex, much less write about it like that (of course the having had two kids part suggests I knew something at one point at least, right?). It's one thing to read romance novels on my own, it's another to have friends and family gawking at the words I've sketched on the page. And I know at least some of them would have issues with it: one friend told me my book got a little too graphic for her (which surprised me, because others complained it was too tame) and my mother-in-law told me she was surprised I swore in the book, because I don't swear in real life. I reminded her *I* wasn't swearing; the character was. But I could tell she was still kind of shocked and probably faintly disapproving.<br />
<br />
Granted, those two people are probably not my intended audience, and they read my work, this romance novel draft, only because they know me and want to support me. They probably wouldn't pick it up in the bookstore were it ever on the shelf. And that's fine. <br />
<br />
But here's the rub. When I was in my twenties, I wrote some fairly erotic poems. That felt O.K. It doesn't feel O.K. in my forties. Somewhere along the way I've censored myself. Don't worry, I'm not about to bust out into verbal porn here, but it made me feel... sad... today to realize I've circumscribed myself in that way, that I feel there are things I just can't do, or at least can't write about it, because it won't match my idea of who I think, and who I think everything else thinks, I am as a person.<br />
<br />
Isn't that the point of writing fiction? That it, even if influenced and informed by the author's personal life, is FICTION? I am not my characters. And that is a distinction I need to remember. Writing romance novels doesn't reveal anything about me personally when it comes to my sex life, anyway. Nor does it reveal anything about anybody else's. I am not my characters. It's O.K. to have them do things, behave in certain ways, take certain actions, that I would never do in real life. It's O.K.<br />
<br />
But that self-censoring runs deep. Why? Is it from my desire to people-please? To have people like me and think of me as a good girl? Because I want to present a certain image? Maybe. People compliment me fairly often on being so honest, so real... whatever that means. And while I get that to some extent, because I AM willing to reveal some of my battles, some of my struggles, there's a whole other side to me that I think I keep hidden and censor - from myself, and from others (and no, I'm not talking sex now - not that I am going to give you deets on that even if you wanted them). Just... stuff I feel might not be acceptable, I guess.<br />
<br />
So here's to bravery. Here's to being willing to write in ways and about things that other people may not like. I'm not saying I will. I'm just saying I can if I want to.<br />
<br />
Uh, maybe. As soon as I stop blushing. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-17154568657772091002013-02-05T11:17:00.001-05:002013-02-05T11:29:48.636-05:00Heat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6ZQJPSg2wJziQbhlSdTmuwd3Yh0om5vJpTYE3268fm_XYFRJwrJXAS8J4lSYJvJYapsUYD40pkAKyLH4eMNK9Oqer9WEvpbZVzsIC8DNqB-8MHpzOT-iL4diWdOOWA6c7B_rDYjfml0/s1600/fireplace450x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6ZQJPSg2wJziQbhlSdTmuwd3Yh0om5vJpTYE3268fm_XYFRJwrJXAS8J4lSYJvJYapsUYD40pkAKyLH4eMNK9Oqer9WEvpbZVzsIC8DNqB-8MHpzOT-iL4diWdOOWA6c7B_rDYjfml0/s320/fireplace450x.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Today I give thanks. I give thanks for central heat. Even as I'm sitting here in my cool basement with my (naked) feet freezing, I can't help but think of how much colder they would be without the furnace chugging away in the background, working to bring the upstairs temperature up to 70 degrees.<br />
<br />
Isn't central heat an amazing thing? Think about it. Think about how people had to live for hundreds and thousands of years before central heat. Sure, if you were living in a warm climate, no biggie. But the Inuit? The Russians? The Vikings? No wonder they were grumpy - they were probably freezing their tuckusses off!<br />
<br />
I can't imagine living in cold climate with only fire to warm me. Sure, you can heat up a brick to warm your feet, or maybe manage a hot water bottle. You can stoke up the wood in the fireplace to a roaring blaze - but that will heat a limited area for a limited time, and frankly make the rest of the space that's further removed from the fire feel even colder.<br />
<br />
So I'm assuming people were cold. It's a big assumption. I don't live in 19th century England or 16th century Minnesota or Siberia at any given time period. I can only guess what it was like, and how one dealt with the vicissitudes of weather sans heat (and AC!). Looking at 19th century British fashion plates, the dresses shown for winter don't look all that much heavier than the summer ones. I suppose they often used wool, that they wore more layers, etc. But were they COLD?<br />
<br />
I was reminded again of the blessings of central heat, which I admittedly take for granted, while hawking Girl Scout cookies with my daughter this weekend. We were in the entry vestibule of a grocery store, not even fully outside - although the doors were constantly opening and closing, so it wasn't all that much protection from the elements. And while it was a cold day, especially for Virginia, it was 30 degrees - which was a good 10 degrees warmer than the highs of the previous week.<br />
<br />
Still, I froze. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a wool-blend sweater, followed by my medium-weight Lands' End winter coat, gloves, and a hat. And I was freezing. Granted, I DID stupidly wear my tennis shoes - which, I realized, are actually running shoes, which meant they had just mesh across the toes. Hardly insulated. It was, therefore, mostly the toes that were screaming for warmth.<br />
<br />
Three hours we stood there. That's it. Just three hours, and I was fairly warmly dressed, and I was SO DARN COLD. What would it be like to be in England in 1814, when it was so cold for so long that the Thames river froze and people held fairs on it? Would one EVER feel warm? Could fireplaces adequately heat a home? And when you had to travel - how did you stay warm? Even sitting in a carriage I would imagine still to be quite chilly, not to mention being the drivers or footmen who had to ride outside, exposed to everything.<br />
<br />
I'm determined in my next novel to write about this cold. I suppose I should look in period sources to see if there is much reference to it, but my modern-day woman who ends up in 1812 is going to notice some major differences. And until last week, I hadn't really thought about the fact that one main one would be heat (I HAD thought about AC).<br />
<br />
In fact, isn't it amazing trying to think through all of the changes of the past two hundred years? It's rather mind-boggling to be trying to puzzle out what would strike a time-traveller most. What would be easiest to accept? What most difficult? How do those play into a work of romantic fiction - I want a semblance of reality and probably WILL address the toileting issue, but truthfully, how much do readers want to know about that? And how much will I really be able to learn about toilet habits, anyway? I'm not sure they were the subject of many treatises. (I've already discovered there were special chamber pots ladies' maids could slip under a lady's dress - can you imagine being the maid having to hold the pot while the lady tinkled - or worse?)<br />
<br />
It's amazing to think about all the differences in the ability to provide for a general sense of comfort - many great, some probably not so great. Toilets. Running water. Heated water. Central heat. A/C. Maxi pads.<br />
<br />
Yeah, there are tons more, but you get the picture.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I'm going up to find some socks. After I take a hot shower. And then head out on errands in my heated horseless carriage to procure ready-made foods of an amazing amount and variety. I might even consider stopping at a restaurant that hands you food through a window.<br />
<br />
Can you imagine THAT in 1812?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-44319526923915494852013-01-30T15:06:00.001-05:002013-01-30T15:08:46.469-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_nx7tPKqR_PfnbNwLzIis9jkuYETsKWpEMymI98wBTy-3QwaohDnwhGadi_-74SOVfQRKUSzpNuiHEei6w2gDWcqClZ-DBxIbrOXFLJ9QdzZbUBNjV6BScTtGy7zFXdxFHs8XDwEadw/s1600/1826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_nx7tPKqR_PfnbNwLzIis9jkuYETsKWpEMymI98wBTy-3QwaohDnwhGadi_-74SOVfQRKUSzpNuiHEei6w2gDWcqClZ-DBxIbrOXFLJ9QdzZbUBNjV6BScTtGy7zFXdxFHs8XDwEadw/s320/1826.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
<span 13px="" 17px="" arial="" font-family:="" font-size:="" grande="" left="" line-height:="" lucida="" sans-serif="" style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;" tahoma="" text-align:="" verdana="">I'm currently immersing myself in a variety of 19th century sources (primary and secondary) as research for writing Regency romances. While reading the 1811 work "The Mirror of Graces," on appropriate character and fashion for women, I came across this tidbit:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br 13px="" 17px="" arial="" font-family:="" font-size:="" grande="" left="" line-height:="" lucida="" sans-serif="" tahoma="" text-align:="" verdana="" /></i></span>
<span 17px="" font-family:="" left="" line-height:="" ms="" sans-serif="" text-align:="" trebuchet=""><i>"Young women must, therefore, when they present themselves to the world, not implicitly fashion their demeanors according to the levelling rules of the generality of school-governesses; but, considering the character of their own figures, allow their deportment, and select their dress, to follow and correct the bias of nature."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span 17px="" left="" line-height:="" text-align:="">Yes! Even in 1811, wise fashionistas advised others to take into account what kind of figure they had before adopting current trends.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span 17px="" left="" line-height:="" text-align:="">(The dresses pictured to the right are from 1826, so at the later end of the broadly-defined Regency period, spanning about 1795-1830. I am envious of those billowing sleeves - not because I'd really want to wear them, but they WOULD provide an apt disguise for my bat wings!)</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-52222552791601583162013-01-12T06:18:00.000-05:002013-01-12T06:18:02.663-05:00Writing... Just Not Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8ywnJk-8LHBL1Tc2ly3hmuYck072VGA42pfjXP_Pp2esENcrBLRXf7cXVKC8356sd67NmVy3sopZ0P2YL-r4GxSLMnWnL6LqWHLBVO3VzV4_duhyUaeZZR1vpZ5BcfMRYb9EPUpXaok/s1600/typewriter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8ywnJk-8LHBL1Tc2ly3hmuYck072VGA42pfjXP_Pp2esENcrBLRXf7cXVKC8356sd67NmVy3sopZ0P2YL-r4GxSLMnWnL6LqWHLBVO3VzV4_duhyUaeZZR1vpZ5BcfMRYb9EPUpXaok/s320/typewriter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So I've been quiet on the old blog again for a while. Not that that affects anyone beyond me particularly, since I don't have wide readership (understandable, considering how myopic my musings here usually are), but it's been bothering me that I haven't kept up here more.<br />
<br />
However, this time at least one of the reasons I've written less here is because I've written more elsewhere. Yes, I actually completed my first draft of my chick-lit/romance novel. 68.000+ words. I did it. It is a complete book. Sure, it's a rough draft and needs editing and some additions, but even if I quit this world tomorrow, I would be able to cross one of my BIG goals off my bucket list.<br />
<br />
And that feels like quite the major feat, because I have this, uh, habit of starting a project, or planning out a project, with great enthusiasm, and then never finishing it. I blame anxiety, which brings on paralysis, but I also use anxiety as an excuse, I guess, in that it provides a good reason for never finishing anything - and if I never finish anything, I don't have to deal with the success or failure of that thing. Ludicrous, I know. So to have pushed through and written this book - and to be SHARING said book with friends for feedback - is a huge step for me. Huge.<br />
<br />
The next goal? Or series of goals? Leave the book alone until February 1st. I need some space. Then edit it. Then - gasp - figure out how/where to submit it for publication. Yes, I have vowed to do so by the end of the year, although I've since amended that to by the end of June. It's terrifying, but one of the benefits of having repeatedly told myself that I'm writing a story I like and it doesn't matter if anyone likes it (the first half of which at least I believe is true), and of having friends read it and declare it "good" is that maybe, just maybe I'll be able to deal O.K. with the rejection to come. <br />
<br />
And what else? Keep writing. Write more books. FINISH writing more books. I find my head filled with ideas - they keep me up at night, when I need to be sleeping, and wake me up early in the morning, when I still need to be sleeping - and I've been writing them down, sketching out additional scenarios. I've been reading more historical background on Regency England, as even though I've read romance novels for years and much of it seems familiar, I know that's no substitute for good research.<br />
<br />
So I have to keep pushing myself to do it. But I also have to find balance. One nice thing about my brain is when it latches on to an idea it latches ON. It becomes a full obsession, and I'm willing to work quite hard on said idea. Hence my expansive and somewhat well-known Elvis Presley website of the 1990's. But that nice thing is also a bad thing, especially now that I'm married and have a husband and kids and a house to attend to, as well as other responsibilities to friends and community. Because as much as I want to push them all aside and just focus on this, I can't.<br />
<br />
Argh. The art of balance. If only I knew its secret. In the meantime, I'm blogging at 6:00 a.m. rather than sleeping, and daydreaming about my next story ideas. Things could be worse.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-29844789852120174342013-01-01T07:40:00.002-05:002013-01-01T07:40:38.186-05:00Resolutionary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI84Bvs6dRCR1Zs-J6Jb5rlXwDVgJzpfJUpCVfdzaL7bHJS0EX_qNWscm2UwKR6l6VbnjOY0y3oZoVQUQ2lwZMyNmYX7w0gt9BGZstGzpZDi8FgpgrMkzxglAhmR0lTznBV-43rl8bUGg/s1600/revolution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI84Bvs6dRCR1Zs-J6Jb5rlXwDVgJzpfJUpCVfdzaL7bHJS0EX_qNWscm2UwKR6l6VbnjOY0y3oZoVQUQ2lwZMyNmYX7w0gt9BGZstGzpZDi8FgpgrMkzxglAhmR0lTznBV-43rl8bUGg/s200/revolution.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Do you make New Year's Resolutions? If so, how many? Do you go for big goals, such as quitting smoking or dropping 50 pounds, or stick to smaller notions, such as eating more veggies or reading more books? How long are you generally able to keep them?<br />
<br />
I, like many Americans today, am feeling resolutionary. I love resolutions. I love the idea of starting over. I love the feeling of conviction that THIS time, I'm going to do it and do it right. But I'm working - against my all-or-nothing nature - to make them smaller, more manageable, more doable. Because I hate the feeling of failure that comes when I, um, inevitably give up. I intended to only have one, but of course the list has grown.<br />
<br />
So, 2013's goals are:<br />
<br />
5. Grow out these fingernails. I admit it. I am a compulsive nail biter. I am ashamed of the state of my fingers and don't really want you trying to inspect them. I have short, stubby fingers as it is, so having rawly bitten tips just makes it worse. I HAVE grown out my nails in the past and kept them that way, so I know I can do this. And I will, because it would be nice to be able to start the tape roll, open packages, and peel off price labels again.<br />
<br />
4. Exercise 3 days a week. This may sound like a big goal, and considering where I currently am in regards to exercising (on the couch), it kind of is. But I USED to, as recently as mid-2012, go to the gym 5 times a week, so setting my sights on 3 is a way of combatting the "if it's not every day it's not worth it" mentality that I love to employ to keep me motionless.<br />
<br />
3. Lose 10 pounds. Yes, it's the inevitable weight loss goal. But considering, um, that I have way more than that that I SHOULD take off, this is a manageable goal. Especially since I GAINED about 18 pounds last year - so dropping 10 only gets me half-way back. But I want something attainable and maintainable, and since I generally suck at doing anything that involves losing and not gaining weight, this is the goal I've set.<br />
<br />
2. Spend less money. Uh oh. Getting into bigger goals now. I need to quantify this one - how much counts as less? $5 less a month? $500 less? And I know this goal is more for my husband (the frugal one, thank God) than for me (bargain hunting is almost as thrilling as chocolate), but I want to honor him and be a better model for my kids by reducing my consumption. But I do need to clarify this one.<br />
<br />
1. Submit my book for publication. O.K. This IS a big one. Because it terrifies me, and because although I actually finished my first rough draft of my novel yesterday (YAY ME!), I know there's a lot of work to do before my manuscript would be suitable for submission. And then there's being willing to deal with rejection. But I'm gonna do it. Anybody know a good agent?<br />
<br />
How about you?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-17136554500328521842012-12-09T19:55:00.001-05:002012-12-09T19:56:24.771-05:00The Unintentional Almost-Bikini Wax<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPvyW8w3pnVwDzrthwic9Y0Y0DJs7PBeENzlJI80BapKvEJUemVOkJY1HYyQzdtfN7DDCpSttM1IexnOQMGO-l424H9BmiS5onZvQO3QRb1ZFnsE3Oj9XXzY4JMV9cIew9i7NL5yOL4E/s1600/carrellsteve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPvyW8w3pnVwDzrthwic9Y0Y0DJs7PBeENzlJI80BapKvEJUemVOkJY1HYyQzdtfN7DDCpSttM1IexnOQMGO-l424H9BmiS5onZvQO3QRb1ZFnsE3Oj9XXzY4JMV9cIew9i7NL5yOL4E/s1600/carrellsteve.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span 18px="18px" left="left" text-align:="text-align:">I have this pair of jeans I like a lot. So much so that I wore holes through them at the inner thigh (those of you who, ahem, have a bit of junk in the trunk - or at least the thighs - may have also experienced similar travesties). But I didn't want to get rid of the jeans, so I decided to patch them. Woo hoo! Problem solved! Except I don't like to iron. Hey, no biggie - I have some press-on patch</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">es here in the closet - no need for ironing, just trim to the right size, remove the backing, and you can fix your item in an instant! Yay!</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Well, guess what? If you wear holes through your jeans the first time in certain areas, the patches placed in said certain areas may also rub. They may rub loose. They may rub loose and then ADHERE TO YOUR INNER THIGHS. You may not notice this until you try to remove said jeans to use the facilities, and suddenly feel as if you've ripped a bandaid off of a rather tender area.<br />
<br />Ouch. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-34284763043785814302012-11-11T16:25:00.001-05:002012-11-11T17:06:41.431-05:0040 Going on 12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was 12, I used to tell myself that when I was 40, I would eat whatever I wanted and get as fat as I wanted because by then nobody would care what I looked like anyway. Apparently 40 was either the oldest age I could imagine, or, more likely, the youngest age at which I thought I'd be able to get away with it.<br />
<br />
Did other kids think this way at 12? I have no idea. I would guess not. Maybe it was my way of dealing with the increasing pressure to be thin and beautiful that was making itself apparent as I muddled my way through middle school. I certainly didn't fit the ideal. My mom was painfully aware of that, as well, and she began the first of many attempts to manage my weight (well, the first one of which I was cognizant, at any rate). I was sent to see the dietician at the local hospital, who put me on my first (of what would become many) calorie-restricted diet. I followed it pretty well, being the people-pleaser that I am, although I also remember becoming aware that I COULD still eat that ham and cheese from Hardee's, as long as I didn't eat much of anything else that day. Oh well. I lost some weight and other people seemed happy.<br />
<br />
(By the way, I don't blame my mom any more. She was fighting a far larger battle than she knew, with this compulsive eating/food addiction demon of mine, and I know she just wanted what was best for me and for me to be happy with myself.)<br />
<br />
So I think that's why this fantasy must have first popped into my head at that time of finding a way to escape the pressure and the feelings of not being good enough. Those feelings followed me all the way through adolescence into adulthood, however. Through countless attempts at Weight Watchers, through crash dieting, and even through a brief but nasty dance with bulimia in college.<br />
<br />
During those attempts, I would usually lose some weight. I would usually start garnering attention from boys, then men. Imagine that! And slowly - but surely, most surely - I would put all the weight back on. Or sometimes quickly: a 20 pound Weight Watchers loss in 11th grade was followed by a 30 pound gain as a senior in high school. A 40 pound drop in college, again through less-than-stellar eating behaviors and over-exercising, came back on fairly quickly the following year, as I gorged my way across campus and back into the size 20 jeans.<br />
<br />
And it never ends. It never ends.<br />
<br />
I turned 40 this year. I laughed as I recounted that 12-year-old fantasy to some friends, dismissing it as such. But over the past few months, I've gotten to wondering about it. IS that longing somehow playing itself out in my current life? Because I've gained back the 20 pounds I lost last year, plus a few more. And I find myself feeling rebellious and angry. I don't want to have to deal with this anymore. I don't want to have to worry about what I eat anymore. I don't want to have to care. I just want to bury myself in the food and be happy there.<br />
<br />
Of course in reality I wouldn't be happy there, either. Oh, I would be for the half an hour or so that the food highs last, but then even if I managed to give up the guilt and self-loathing cycle that inevitably follows, I'd still be dealing with the physical realities of overeating. I already am, with all this extra weight and my droopy Batwing arms and aching knees. I don't like how I look in pictures (unless I can control the angle and hide that chin - thank you, iPhone camera). I can't do all the things I want to anymore, physically speaking, and age is now making itself felt alongside the ever-present weight reality.<br />
<br />
The brain is a curious thing, isn't it? Because for as long as I can remember I have felt I at least OUGHT to be trying to lose weight and be fit, even if I weren't succeeding. I still do mostly feel that way. But at odd times, since I turned 40 in March, I've had that 12 year old whispering in my ear: "You don't need to exercise so much anymore. You're 40. No one expects you to." And, "It's O.K. to take the elevator at the library instead of the stairs. You have an achy knee, and besides, you're 40. It doesn't matter anymore what others think." Even, "Who cares if you haven't washed your hair in a few days? You're 40. Nobody's looking at you anymore anyway."<br />
<br />
Excuse me? What kind of twisted thinking is that?<br />
<br />
It's what's going on in this brain of mine, that's what. I'm rebellious and angry, and now battling the "It doesn't matter anymore!" devil sitting on my shoulder. And frankly it's left me feeling like crap. Maybe even depressed. I feel like I haven't got a grip this fall, like I'm never doing what I'm supposed to be doing, not accomplishing what I'm expected to accomplish, not caring about things I used to care about. All I want to do is sleep. And eat. And sleep. Is that not the hallmark of depression?<br />
<br />
So where to from here? Do I have to keep fighting the fight? Do I have to keep battling myself on these issues? I'm so tired. I'm so tired of it. Why can't I be a "normal" person when it comes to food? That 12 year old is pretty pissed off that 40 has come, but freedom from food and body obsession hasn't. And she's still telling me, "Give in. It doesn't matter any more. Give in. No one cares."<br />
<br />
But they do. My husband does. Not only does he prefer a freshly showered wife, but surely a somewhat smaller, fitter one would be appreciated, as well. At least one who puts some effort into it. My friends and family do - not because they need me to be a certain size, but because they want me healthy and happy. My kids do. They may not care what I look like, but I'm pretty sure they want me around for a while. And also happy. And they need me to be a better role model for them when it comes to this stuff.<br />
<br />
I'm trying. My son mentioned this week that the kids at school had made comments about his weight, and I went off on how he's a bigger-built kid and will ALWAYS be bigger and even weigh more than the other kids, because of the size and density of his bones - something I wish someone had explained to me before I was 20. And I said what matters most is that he eats healthfully in good portions and exercises regularly - and whatever his body size is he can leave up to God. Hopefully repeating that often while encouraging said habits will keep my kids from the poisonous self-talk that permeates my brain. And maybe I'll even come to believe it.<br />
<br />
Where to from here? I don't know. I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't blog about it repeatedly. Do *I* care anymore? I don't know. That 12 year old me can be awfully loud. She's still mad about being forced on a diet, and I'm still mad today to be dealing with this issue constantly, day in and day out.<br />
<br />
It's been all I can do this fall to stay on this gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free diet that we've adopted to see if it helps my son (and me). Even then, I've cheated at least once a week. But apparently that inner child, that spoiled little brat who wants no restrictions EVER, has just not been able to accept and act on the idea that I should be careful about what I'm eating even when limiting certain categories, because it's been a lot of potato chips and gummy bears these past two months.<br />
<br />
I've been eating poorly. I haven't exercised hardly at all. I haven't written more on my book. I'm sure all of those are contributing to my great feelings of self-dissatisfaction as of late. Is it true depression? I don't know. I don't know. But I'm sad. Sad. And not sure how to dig myself out of this pit yet.<br />
<br />
The 12 year old says, "That's O.K. You don't have the knees for digging anymore, anyway. You're 40."<br />
<br />
Could someone please tell her to shut up?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-92211837100747610552012-11-10T14:41:00.001-05:002012-11-10T14:44:58.349-05:00Repeat Ad Nauseum. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Reading back through this blog, several themes jump out at me. Food. Anxiety. Writing. Guilt. Food. Kids. Anxiety. Weight. Worry. Anxiety.<br />
<br />
These are the themes of my life. I'd like to write a new chapter, start over in a new book whose message is Courage. Hope. Confidence. Enthusiasm. Willingness. Confidence. Action. Writing.<br />
<br />
But for now, I'm stuck in this chapter. And I have writer's block. How DO you effectively change the patterns of your life? How does one push past comfort into courage, inertia into action, anxiety into a willingness to challenge oneself? For me it's as if those are separated by a large gulf between two cliffs, the kind into which Wile E. Coyote was always falling down.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, Mr. Coyote always got back up to chase the Road Runner another day. Falling down into fear doesn't have to be permanent. Ironically I've heard myself lately telling several friends who are going through tough times that "Feelings aren't facts." And they aren't. Yet I let them rule my life as if they were.<br />
<br />
I promised myself I would work on my book this fall. I don't think I've touched it in over a month. I don't fully know why. Except that fear and anxiety are still lurking around the corner - that feeling of some big Boogie Monster standing over my shoulder with long, pointy teeth, laughing a purple laugh and exclaiming, "YOU? You can't write a book! That's for REAL authors. You're just a housewife with no official writing training. What makes you think YOU can write?"<br />
<br />
And even though I tell myself over and over again, write it for me, write it as if you don't care if anyone else ever reads it, much less likes it, I balk. I chide myself, "Write the story I like, without regard as to whether or not anyone else ever thinks it's any good." And yet the pages go unwritten. I've thrown myself into Regency "research", pinning tons of images on Pinterest relating to Regency themes, watching Regency shows, ordering Regency books. Of course I haven't read them, much less sketched out my own Regency stories. It's far less scary to throw myself into the prep rather than the execution.<br />
<br />
It's a theme of my life. Big ideas, big desires, big fears. It's much easier to stay in my comfort zone. My little bubble. The anxiety demons don't get me here as often. But I also don't get much done in here.<br />
<br />
So, as a very small 'Kiss off!' gesture to the demons today, I wrote a blog post. In haste. Without editing. Or really coherence. It's just me vomiting feelings on the page, but it's more writing than I've done in weeks. Aside from those Facebook statuses which, while often amusing to myself and apparently to others, really don't comprise novel material. <br />
<br />
Today, blogger. Tomorrow, Mr. Darcy? Perhaps. Perhaps.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-64741647905683570002012-11-10T14:23:00.001-05:002012-11-10T14:23:06.670-05:00Votes Like Jagger<br />
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<span class="userContent"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dinnertime at the Tjaden household on Election Day Eve:<br /><br />Me: "Brett, you should have voted for Romney, because you've got 3 freeloaders sitting right here around you at the table!"<br />Brett: "That's not what Jesus taught us - we don't kick the less fortunate to the curb."<br />Jeff: "Unless they look like Mick Jagger!"<br /><br />Can I just say I nearly fell off my chair laughing? Thank you, son, for injecting Kesha lyrics into the evening's political conversation...</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-25335393726941874172012-10-19T22:19:00.000-04:002012-10-19T22:19:40.856-04:00And it wasn't even good. <br />
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Slippery slope. Yesterday I let myself eat Chinese food because a) I was really, really craving it, and b) I wanted to see if it affected me (because of the wheat and the MSG). I didn't notice anything major. Except today - today I've been super-cravy! And I haven't given a HOOT about avoiding gluten and dairy and all that stuff. I ate a bite of a cheeseburger at Costco. And tonight? Tonight I had such a strong craving for pizza as I was driving home from picking up a ladder from a friend that when I stopped at Sheetz for gas, I went in and bought 2 pieces. From Sheetz. I wanted it from Vito's - excellent pizza there - but bought it from Sheetz and ate it furtively because I knew I shouldn't be eating it at all. And guess what?<br />
<br />
It wasn't even good. It wasn't good AT ALL.<br />
<br />
Of course I finished eating it. Of course I'm wondering if I'm going to pay for it tonight with stomach issues. <br />
<br />
But I have my answer regarding yesterday: SOMETHING triggered me. I don't know if it was the MSG and the wheat, or just the fact that I was like "What the heck" yesterday and continued that today... but it's not good! Not good!<br />
<br />
True experimentation is coming up in a couple of months, when as a family we add eggs back in, then dairy, then eventually gluten. Of course B and E have been eating it here and there. And I manage to go about a week or a week and a half and then seem to cave and have something glutinous (last Friday it was chocolate and breadsticks). But THIS had cheese. And it wasn't good. And I feel bad. (Guilty bad, yes - but also just bad. I have a headache. I'm tired. So I'm thinking, yeah, maybe it's the wheat and dairy!)<br />
<br />
I wish I could be a normal person with food. Even when I'm off this stuff I can find other junk. What would it be like to be normal with food? It's unlikely I'll ever know. But I guess it's still good to try to separate out what is psychological in terms of this food crap, and what is biological in terms of reactions to foods. Right?<br />
<br />
And also - if I'm going to indulge in something, go for the good stuff. GET the Vito's pizza, not the Sheetz schlock. If I'm going to have chocolate, get a Milka bar, not a Hostess Ding Dong. Make it worth it.<br />
<br />
Now if I could just figure out how to give up the potato chips and Hot Tamales. Geez.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3410480826203758945.post-57410191938176563472012-10-12T20:40:00.000-04:002012-10-12T20:40:42.053-04:00Gluten for Punishment<br />
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So I did a little gluten experiment today (read: Binge City). Here's what I discovered: this morning I ate a Kit Kat and a Little Debbie ho ho thing. Neither tasted very good, although yes, I still managed to choke them down. An hour or so later I was dead tired. Now granted, I'm tired today anyway from staying up until 11:30 and not taking a nap, but this was whole body-eyes drooping tired. Related? Perhaps. This evening for some reason I wanted more - I guess the cravings set in, plus I was curious to see if something I really wanted that wasn't a sweet would taste better. So I got some Pizza Hut breadsticks with marinara sauce from Target. Normally I LOVE these - scrumptious bready perfection. Tonight? They tasted 'off'. The sauce tasted very salty and not sweet like I remembered, and the bread was just O.K. While roaming around Target after eating them, I felt slightly congested, and wondered if I felt that way before and if that were perhaps why the breadsticks didn't taste fantastic. By the time I got to Martin's 20 minutes later to pick up a few groceries, I had a sinusy headache. I figured "in for a penny, in for a pound," and decided to do some further testing by eating two of my favorite things from their bakery: a Boston creme donut and a strawberry cream cheese croissant. The croissant was the ONLY thing that tasted pretty good, but even IT had a much more artificial taste than I ever remembered before. I kind of craved more stuff, but by that point I think it was because I was so disappointed that some of these things I'd been fantasizing about didn't live up to the memory.<br />
<br />
Now I'm home. Headache is a little better but still there. Still feel a bit sinusy. Still feel kind of tired, but not as much as this morning. But it's enough to make me think the wheat increased some of those things. Worst of all, the foods didn't taste good! Or maybe that's best of all. Maybe that will help me accept that wheat DOES seem to give me some physical symptoms, and I'll be able to stay away from it. Thinking about doing that forever makes me feel really freaky, so I won't promise that (hello, I've broken down about once every week or so since we started this back at the beginning of September anyway). Obviously I CAN eat it without dying. But if I continue, I know what will happen - I'll get right back up to the binge levels of before, I'll be a LOT more tired, and will have more frequent headaches. Just this amount showed me that.<br />
<br />
Of course it's NOT as if I'm eating cleanly and healthfully even sans gluten and dairy and eggs. So that's the next step - if I embrace having to avoid most of those foods (and I haven't fully tested eggs or dairy, although I guess they were also in the foods I ate today), then the next goal is to expand my eating horizons and include much more healthy food than my current fairly steady diet of Hot Tamales, gummy bears, potato chips, and deli roast beef.<br />
<br />
What can I say? I excel at finding the crappy food and at bingeing, even when on a restricted diet. But tomorrow I will stay away from gluten/dairy/eggs again. I will. Because I think even in spite of the junk I'm still eating, I feel better and have more consistent energy levels than when I'm downing the gluten like a glutton.<br />
<br />
Yes, that was a terrible joke. I blame the donut.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0