Lessons Learned

 Every few years or so, I rediscover this gem of a blog - this personal time capsule, rife with self-deprecating humor and a cheeky optimism I can only attribute to my rapidly disappearing youth.  It remains a touchstone to a different time, and a different me, and I can't help but be reminded of the writer I once was, and feel pride for these glimpses into my past.  

But I am not that girl anymore.  Time marches on, life can be unmerciful, and so much has changed in the past several years.  

The majority of my work on "The Anti-Stepford" blog and persona occurred just as I turned the corner into my thirties, and while I've always struggled with my mental health and well-being, I was an effervescent, enthusiastic gal who always tried to look for the best - in people and situations - and had faith that good would prevail over evil and that all in all things would Work Out in the End.  Ahh, the stupidity of youth...

Today, I am charging full-throttle into my middle age.  I'll be forty-three come my next birthday, separated from Mr. Anti-Stepford for the past three years and in recovery from Opioid Addiction for the past four.  My Youngling is Not-So-Young - towering over six feet, all gangly arms and legs, nerdy snark and genius IQ peppered with a generous helping of Angst and so stereotypically "Teen" that its almost laughable, and very smelly.

I have a great partner, who has helped me to grow immensely and taught me so much about building and power tools, I can DIY with the best of them, and then some.  He even helped me to build an art studio in our basement, where I've started to flourish creatively.  I'm finding my artistic voice, and developing Darkling Design Studio as a real means to create and make a living. I hope to finally go back to school by the end of the year, to get my degree and finally start living the life I've been too haphazard and undisciplined to seize.  See, the strangest thing has happened... I've come to the point in my life where I realize that I can't blame the world for my shortcomings.  I can no longer justify self-pity, and have found that Honesty (with myself and those in my life) and Accountability serve me far better.  That, coupled with Gratitude and Appreciation, have steered my ship back to calmer waters, hopefully to leave the storms in the past for awhile.

Its been really fucking hard, you guys.  

One of the best things that I've done for myself is to utilize cannabis to live a healthier life.  Though we are no longer on speaking terms, a friend helped me to work through the anxiety and crippling panic attacks marijuana would cause, and I had the most amazing epiphany: I no longer liked the person I was.  SO - I set about changing that - reminding myself all of the things that made me happy, the strengths and talents I possess and dreams I had let wither and die.  

And so I started to love myself again.

And just like any healthy love, it takes work.  And it always will.  

But I can say now, at nearly 43, with pride - I'm doing my best, and investing in myself and my talents - my art, my dancing, my singing - and perhaps most importantly (and finally!)...

My writing.

SO - from here on out, your plucky heroine is changing the name of this blog from "The Anti-Stepford" to "DarklingDesignStudios"... and... well, I make no promises, but we'll see you guys.  We'll see just what I can do. 

Extraordinary Machine

Well folks, it's been awhile, but your plucky heroine has returned. Where have I been? What have I been doing? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love ...
  I kid, I kid... Mostly.

   Suffice it to say I've come quite the long way on a convaluted path towards wellness, such I'm eager to share with all of you.

  So stay tuned guys and gals! And I leave you with a lyric from the indomitable Fiona Apple:
     "Be kind to me, or treat me mean
      I'll make the most of it
      I'm an Extraordinary Machine"

Getting Mobile

Why it hadn't occurred to me earlier to check for a Blogger app is beyond me.  But here I am.  Blogging while riding to work (not driving, I promise) and thinking about the universe and its intricacies. 

Le sigh. 

Perfect day was perfect.  Now to work my tail off (literally) and hope the apartment hasn't burned down when I get home in the wee hours of the morning.

Madness!!!

Well, it seems as though writing for a blog that actually has demands on me has been very good on my work ethic.  Because answering to myself has always gone something like this:

"You know, you *should* be doing (insert task such as writing, cleaning, saving the world here)"


"Screw you, you know-it-all bitch!  You don't own me!"

or something like that.

So it is with pride and awe that I write yet ANOTHER blog post, dear readers.  Of my own volition!  In a timely manner!  WHAT IS THIS MADNESS??

This may also be related to a recent phenomenon I've observed.  It's called "getting shit done".  I don't know where I picked up this nasty habit, but everywhere I look, I seem to be ACCOMPLISHING THINGS like and adult or something.  I'm amused and a little nervous.  Who is this responsible woman, and what have you done with the slacker that we all know and love?  Have I truly gone - STEPFORD?

After a quick look around, I realize there are still some dishes in the sink.  I think we're safe.  Also, I've been TERRIBLY lax in my NaNoWriMo writing, and November is rapidly winding away.  In my defense, I've started a new jobby job, and have been writing for Adventures in Poor Taste, and otherwise occupying myself studiously in such exciting tasks as Organizing the Bills and Planning My Future.  So I'll cut myself a little slack here.

With winter fast approaching (fuck, it's cold this morning) I am just waiting for the shit to hit the fan, and for the familiar doesnotcomputegoway hibernation to begin.  But I have a sneaking suspicion that with everything going on, I won't have time for such frivolity.  Getting shit done > any anti-depressant out there, truly.

So!  A new, exciting chapter for your plucky heroine!?

Stay tuned...

Breaking up is hard to do

As you may know, I've started writing for an awesome geek blog, Adventures in Poor Taste! - a fabulous collection of "cynical manchild" ramblings on geek and pop culture.  And I fit right in!  What am I if not a cynical manchild trapped in a woman's body?

This week, my article is a heartfelt "Dear John" to the folks over at SquareEnix.  Nothing personal, but after having my heart broken, I think its time to move on.  Bethesda, be still my beating heart - let Skyrim fill the void Final Fantasy XIII left!

Stay tuned for more domestic ramblings.  I've got something interesting to say on that front, I just know it.

Adventures In Poor Taste

No, No - I haven't finally titled my memoir.

I'm writing for a geek-tastic blog!

Don't be sad, my lovely readers.  This isn't the end.  I still want to be friends.  Its not you, its me...

Hehe.

Go to their site, and check out all the geeky goodness, and stay tuned for more updates.

For now, here's my first contribution.

Why I Can't Wait For the Zombieapocalypse

Purging Is Good For The Soul

Looking out my windows this morning, there is no question that the crisp sunny blue skied days of Autumn are over, and the gray, oppressive season has begun.

I really didn't need the windows to tell me so.  I can feel the shift in the marrow of my soul.

Now that Halloween is over, the next few months are an endless struggle to overcome my utter distaste for Winter.  My first challenge, is of course, the Hellidays.  Rapidly approaching, I cringe at every Christmas themed commercial on TV.  Its barely November, for fuck's sake!

Around this time every year, I start to retreat into a little ball of insanity.

NOT THIS YEAR, DAMMIT.

Your plucky heroine has a secret weapon.  PRODUCTIVITY!

The past two days have been spent purging, reorganizing, and nesting.  Putting books on shelves, throwing away old papers, moving furniture.  Also, getting prettttty tipsy on a bottle o' wine.  Unfortunately, the liquor store my darling husband shops at *clearly* has a problem with their stock.  Someone's been poking holes in the bottom of the wine bottles.  This, my friends, is a travesty.

All in all, I feel much less frightened of the cold dark Winter that approaches.  We'll see how well I fare as time rolls on.  But for now, I'm going to sip my coffee, enjoy my mostly clean house, and work on my novel.

Blue skies be damned.