25 September 2013 @ 07:39 pm
post every so often, Wednesday  
Today my immigration lawyer emailed me and reminded me that it's been five years since I got my green card, and I qualify for naturalized citizenship if I'd like to apply. I wrote him back and said I'd love more details about both the process and the cost (which I think may be prohibitive). But overall my reaction is:


Where to even start? I want it. To not have to worry about tripping over some obscure act / event / law and being deported would be absolutely amazing. I'm rapidly coming up on having spent as much time in the States as I did in the UK, and to rip up my roots and move back now would be unthinkable. That said, I would, of course, worry my way through the entire experience because the immigration process is nothing if not fabulously capricious and corrupt. And I'd have to deal with my mother taking the entire thing as a deeply personal rejection. And I can never remember the names of all the presidents. (None of the latter things are deal breakers, they're more just anxiety-makers, and they're swirling through my brain as fast as all the good stuff is.)

I've been anxious all day about this, and it's only just crystalized for me that the idea of citizenship, of permanence, is thoroughly tied to my notion of safety. I left the UK to escape horrible circumstances; the US has always been my refuge, and it's both exhilarating and anxiety-making to contemplate that I could start the process to make that refuge permanent.

I have nothing eloquent to say here, just a whole lot of asjdhlfkhalsdf.

Today I read about a billionty pages of Sterek fic, read a book, and did some laundry. fini!
22 September 2013 @ 01:07 pm
post every so often, Sunday  
Last night I went over to my friends' house for dinner, and after dinner I curled up on the couch with their six-year-old daughter, C, and we read Carl Sandburg poems out loud. For some reason C has hooked onto Carl Sandburg really hard, and since her parents had the complete works at their house, we had plenty of poems to choose from. I'd find her the poems that looked simple (and not too much about death) and she'd ably read along, figuring out words like 'laughter' which . . . how do you even sound that out as a child and recognize what it is? Brains, etc.

This was her favorite poem, Child's Moon, which reminded her of watching the moon out of her previous bedroom window:

The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, "See the moon!"
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.

Then after C's younger sister was in bed, we turned on the TV, and Field of Dreams was just beginning. Against all my expectations, C was transfixed (proving she is a child of excellent taste ;)). My cute circuits about overloaded as she asked questions about the Voice (she thought someone might be hiding in the corn, but settled on it being magic when the Voice showed up in Boston) and Shoeless Joe. When I explained why he got kicked out of baseball she got absolutely afronted, and said how it was the gangsters who did the bad thing, and it wasn't fair. So she was especially happy that Shoeless Joe got to come back and play on a farm in Iowa. Before I left for the night I told her that the baseball field was real and we could go visit if we wanted and her eyes got wide as saucers. "It's real?" she said. I assured her it was, and she looked like I'd hung the moon. Take that, Disney :D
21 September 2013 @ 02:37 pm
post every so often, day something  
I don't think I have enough interesting things to say to post every day, but I'm definitely going to follow the lead of the good folks who are doing so, and try to post more often. I'm enjoying seeing so much more on my flist of late!

This has been a truly bizarre week with many ups and downs. The PTSD stuff did its PTSD thing, and then I got depressed after realizing it was PTSD to realize it *was* PTSD, and yesterday I was the grumpiest grump who ever grumped. But then I slept for 13 hours and feel pretty good today. Brains. How do they work?

In other news: BANJO. I can now pick out the accompaniment to Red River Valley, and today's task is to learn the picking to a new song. (My book has been teaching strumming, chords, and picking solely through RRV so far and my word, I am tired of that song.) Thanks to [ profile] heresluck I have some new banjo music to listen to, and I am having a ball. YAY BANJO.

Today I'm going to a one hour meditation class at an open house at the local yoga studio. I have had trouble meditating for five minutes, recently, so goodness knows how I'll do. But I have at the forefront of my mind the fact that you can't do meditation wrong, so I'll just jump in and see what happens.

I got my [ profile] tw_holidays assignment and I'm totally excited about it. It's not Sterek, but something pretty challenging, and I'm so looking forward to wrangling it. I'm also glad to have my writing mojo back again after not writing for so long. Post every day for ten days didn't happen, but I got five out there, and it was good discipline for me. So hurrah.

I'm looking forward to the H50 team being back as of Friday, not least of which so that I can hear their voices again and work on [ profile] squidgiepdx's story. I have such low expectations going into this season I can't even tell you. If they can manage to bicker and look pretty every episode I will consider it a fabulous win. The behind the scenes photos that are coming out look very promising, so we'll see!

The weather has finally cooled, here, and so my thoughts turn to chile and mashed potatoes and three sister stew (not all at once). It's so delicious for the room to be a little chilly when I go to bed at night - there is nothing better than bundling up in a thick duvet and having a wee cold nose but being cozy everywhere else. YOM.

In November I am going to see [ profile] dogeared and [ profile] kassrachel in what will be my first real vacation in eleventymumblewhat years. Okay, my 40th birthday involved an awesome vacation, so it hasn't been that long, but STILL. I am excite.

In other news: STILES. I ♥ him. The end.