The (un)Friend

Since my recent divorce and remarriage, I've had friends jumping the "Carissa friend-SHIP".

In all honesty, there hasn't been many… but there has been close friends-- people who I considered to be more like family have chosen sides when no one required it. I know I never did… For me, it wouldn't be fair to make friends choose between me and my ex-husband. It's childish and ridiculous. Besides, I don't dislike the man. I just didn't want to be married to him. There's a difference.

I've heard things like, "You didn't care what other people thought when you were getting divorced. You hid away because you knew I wouldn't agree with you… Why would you care now?"

or

"You've stood there, with your fists up, ready to knock anyone to the side if they don't blindly follow you."

The interesting thing is this…

I never expected people to blindly follow me. Nor to agree with me. My fists were and are always unclenched until someone directly attacks my character or my intentions without knowledge or justification. I never hid away, though, I will admit, for a time it was hard to get together with people. Not necessarily because I thought they might disagree with my life's direction… but because I was truly busy.

I had a new life to build. I had a new house to move into. I had to put my focus where it mattered most. Myself. My kids. My new spouse.

Everyone and everything else was, for lack of a better word, temporarily extraneous.

That included my blog. Facebook. Twitter. Even Pendomus.

Those friends who were true, understood the why.

Those who didn't, clearly were not.

Now that things have settled, I've been returning to a sense of normalcy. And extending my hand back out to friends and family previously outside my center of focus.

What I didn't expect was the hostility from those who I was mistaken about. Evidently, because I made a decision that was unpopular with them, I am no longer allowed to have feelings. About myself. About those around me. Because I wasn't as readily available, I was hiding. Yet, every friend who asked me to do something during my transition, I made time for if I could. If I couldn't, I offered suggestions for alternate times. Yet, that goes unnoticed.

If there's anything last year's narcissisticapades taught me, it's that people are going to form an opinion of you regardless of the truth. Regardless of YOUR own personal truth.

So, in times like these… when people cannot see who you are beyond their own perception, it's time to let them go. Transitions are funny like that. People come and go.

With this wave knocking a few people from the boat, there will be others, willing to climb aboard.

And with any luck, those who do, will be true.

Standing Still to Bare My Soul

Life.

It's what happens with you're standing still.

And that's what I've been doing. Standing still.

My wheels are spinning with Pendomus and it's because my personal life is in chaos. I have a war raging in my brain and I can't… shake it.

So much in my life… has felt so empty for a really long time. Don't get me wrong… I love my kids, my family and friends… but there's been something missing that I've never quite been able to put my finger on. Looking back, I filled that void with many things. Even writing Pendomus.

Now… I fill the void with you. Twitter. My blog. The amazing new people I've met across the world. I didn't know just how connected I really was… until I met you. And… I started to understand what the void is.

You get me. 

The bat-shit crazy, wild-child-wannabe, me.

But there's a downside, too. With social media, like Twitter, it's hard to stay away from it. From the constant interaction. Particularly, because I have this sick obsession to interact. To be accessible. You've given me a taste of what it's like to really be… me.

It's kind of funny when you think about it…

A lot of people think social media is all fake. People in smoke screens and all full of shit. But I haven't found that. Most people are sincere and it's pretty easy to spot the ones who aren't.

When I got blindsided with the whole, narcissistic thing… it honestly only made things worse. Set me off on a tailspin and I'm still reeling. Probably because now, I feel like I'm not only misunderstood occasionally… I'm just really not understood at all. Because before… I had a clear intention. Plus, I don't have many people I can talk to about it, who aren't inside my computer. So, yea. That helps.

But... isn't that really what we're all searching for? To be understood?

Hell, to understand ourselves?

Does that make me narcissist? Or just plain old human?

I'd like to believe the latter.

My life is a mess right now… but it's nice to know I have you all out there.

And maybe… someday I will find a place in the real world to fit in.

xoxo

Joss Whedon and why he's ruined television for me

My absolute favorite writer of all time is Joss Whedon. So much so, that most tv shows just can't live up. (Though I will be the first to admit that Castle comes super close!)

I'm unashamed to admit that, on occasion, I am still known to bust out my Buffy DVDs and sit down for nostalgia's sake. This show touched on so many themes that are still relevant to people's lives and I miss the smart, campy way he can engage his audience.

My favorite, in many ways, is actually his show Firefly -- which by all intents and purposes should have lived a long and healthy life on FOX; had they not placed it in a ridiculous time slot (9pm on a Friday night-- this was in 2002, before DVR and online streaming were so accessible) and screwed with the original vision of the writer (i.e. run the shows out of the original plot sequence from the get-go). This show has held onto tremendous cult status -- even now. Most recently is the Browncoat's (rabid fans of the show-- yes, I'm one of them) attempt to get Nathan Fillion money to buy the rights based on a flippant remark on Twitter.

That said, I've pondered away many hours about Joss and what it is that makes his writing so relevant. Most recently, I've asked that question in regards to my own writing. What can I do to incorporate the elements of his writing that I most gravitate to? Though I will never have his Whedony witticism, I'd like to say that I can at least give a tip of the hat to the man who inspires me most.

Hell, I even have this t-shirt from back in the day.

And if my book ever were to become successful-- to the point where I were going to shows like ComicCon, I'll be the geek in the corner wearing this bad boy. Yup, that's me.

But what is is about him? His writing in specific? I think it's because he gets it. The fact that as humans, there is no true line between good and evil. Right and wrong. It's all based in the perceptions and those perceptions are skewed based on your life experiences or what you've been shown. What you've been taught. What's been omitted.

In Firefly, he turns the notion of being a prostitute on it's head. In the future -- in his world, there is a status known as a Companion, which is highly esteemed. The main characters are basically thieves, yet we love them and root for them over the big bad Alliance.

In Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog, he takes a villain and makes him lovable. "Besides, there are kids in that park. Meh."

THIS IS WHAT I ASPIRE TO BE.

To be the type of writer who can see the varying shades of gray and help the reader to remember that sometimes our perceptions are wrong. Sometimes they are intentionally misled. Sometime they are dead on.

Misplaced Perceptions

Okay, maybe it's just me... but what's the big freakin' deal about this new breastfeeding doll that's coming out? It's hit the major news networks as "creepy", "too real for comfort", etc... and I have to ask myself -- why the hell do I live in this country? I mean, seriously? This is worthy of discomfort?

If you are unfamiliar, please educate yourselves.

Let's be frank, I am an unapologetic progressive who believes that we need to stop flagellating the public over issues that are a natural and normal functions of the human body. Yes, that applies to dolls, too. Children learn by emulation. The question is -- what do we want them to emulate? That is my first and foremost question. Is it creepy to have a 6 year old "nurse" her baby? Really? Because to me, it's creepy to have a 3 year old boy with a realistic toy gun. (Though I'm not against that either) Just sayin'.

So this might turn into a feminist-like rant, but what's with the demonization of all things women? No - not even that, the TABOOization of all things women. Yeah, yeah... Eve... Garden... apple... blah, blah, blah. I'm not buyin' it.

Come to think of it, it's not even women -- it's all things sex. As a culture, we're ironically obsessed with it. Yet, we want to... what? Control it? Why? To what end?

With women and girls, in particular, the stigma is greater. The innate power given at birth to create and nourish life is tainted by the desire by society (which is run, in a great part by men) to put a damper on it. Is it some sort of inadequacy compensation? Or does it go deeper than that?

Think about it... it's okay for men to go around topless - hell, it's practically preferred. Just look at the Twilight series. (Yes, women are just as obsessed with the pectorals of the opposite sex as men are) What would happen if a women did that? Yet... it's sorta necessary at times.

Back to this doll... I have a daughter. She has her "babies" and it never occurred to me to worry about how she's feeding them. I nursed both of my children and I'm proud of that fact. Anyone who does a minute's worth of research can see that the benefits are astounding. While I acknowledge, it's not for everyone (one of my best friends and co-conspirator of my book tried and was unable, for example), I am appalled that we are still considering it "creepy" in today's standards.Why is it creepy to teach our daughters that nursing our children is how babies are fed? Do you think the ancient people around the globe had this problem?

Yeah, I get it. You don't want to think about the fact that the 6 year old girl nursing her baby has "girl parts". But she does. And there is nothing wrong with it. Get over the hang ups in your head and see reality for what it is. We all spend so much time convincing ourselves that our world view is the right one -- the only one.

But guess what? You're wrong.

We all are.

The Seed of this World

She speaks to me, flesh biten riddles and colorful roses

The tides turn uninterrupted and squelched 

Disturbed but uninhibited, the feelings arouse

Persistent and longingly as they circle in sequence

Somewhere in space and time is this place

Where only those who know her can enter 

Random and orderly the two coincide

Unable to exist without the other

A jumbled mess of uniform thoughts

Instincts that go beyond all bounds

She asks me to see this place

Dig a little deeper, she whispers

Understand the circumstances that arise

The framework unhinged, skin left blistering

Time fades away and all that's left... is 

Absent in love and open in mind leads only to the dead inside

Be open 

Be ready

Be free

The world appears finite, yet the infinite knows better

Clinging to the flesh dripping fear of the past

All boundaries are alone man made

A disease of the dysfunction we adhere to

She ignites my mind with her electric fingertips

Lapping up all reasons for self-doubt

She insists on something else instead

The blossom of life and its seed of this world...

Begins as nothing more than a seed

And the smoothing continues...

So... I've been sick the past couple of weeks which has hindered the progress of my novel. I'm nearly done, but I'm in the smoothing out phase. For some reason, it's not nearly as much fun as writing it the first time around. I think it's the left brain vs. right brain stuff. I want to be creative because ordinarily, I'm a very detail oriented, organized person. But, then when I'm sick, my brain operates differently. I go from being my normal, upbeat self to something more akin to the First Evil on Buffy. LOL! Discernment flies out the window and I'm just down right obnoxious.


Suddenly, everything I think sucks and I go into a train of thought where my world turns dark. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing... just not in the way that makes for a good writing experience. Though, I took some time to think through my villain and how he perceives the world, so I guess it's all good! HA!


Luckily, I'm getting better. I've had a few epiphanies in the past couple days on things I was missing and ways I can change the flow. I've had to set things aside in order to do it, which does not always sit well with me. I'm a doer and when I'm not doing... I get antsy.


On the upside, I've written in the first half of a new chapter today (one that I didn't realize was missing) and it's helped me tremendously connect to my male character and where he should be mentally in the story. It's so weird how when you write something for a week that happens over a couple hours in a book, you lose focus. Even when you go back and reread. So strange.


But I need to regain that focus... this sucker is a 100,000+ word epic. I need to get my proverbial shit together! There are too many strings that need to be tied from too many directions to lose focus now.


And as Jillian Michaels says, "Why would you chose failure when success is an option?"


So, I'm choosing success.


I'm gonna get past this freakin' head cold of doom and come out on the other side a more focused woman. One capable of painting an entirely new world that will resonate in the hearts and minds of those it needs to reach.


The day is coming.