Carpe pen

For Christmas, a friend got me ye olde fashioned fountain pen. I've always wanted one. It feeds into so many obsessions of mine, not least of all my office supply fetish. 

But I'm one of those people who tries to save the nice stuff, save the special ice cream or what have you, for a special purpose or occasion. This yields solidly mixed to poor results. For example, did you know that homemade, preservative-free marshmallows will ultimately just melt back down into a sugary mess if left untouched for 3 months? The anticipation. The special treat. Total bummer, dude. 

And a good reminder. 

I took my shiny, special pen out from my desk drawer. Or like, from underneath the sticky note pad I'd most likely set aside as my disorganized self discarded it after writing a note. However it transpired, I began using my nifty pen. So much so, I've found myself getting back to writing longhand. 

My handwriting is only a degree or two better than a doctor writing detailed instructions, and I'll never make any headway in fancy, decorative writing, BUT I get the biggest kick out of using it at every chance. 

Rewrite of a different kind

Family is a tricky thing. What you grew up with as normal might freak out others you come across. What you tried to hide as embarrassing family shenanigans might be ho-hum for others.

What may be more to the point for this post is that explaining your family can be a tricky thing. How do you explain why your dad calls your oldest cousin 'Apple Juice Fitzhibbert' instead of Alan, followed swiftly by everyone of that generation repeating on cue "So say we all"? This is not a true story from my family, but is as random as the collections of both you-had-to-be-there and it-evolved-over-time family stories that many of us don't even realize we have. Most of our family stories involve fart/poop jokes or injuries, so I aimed for an example that might seem more wholesome. *cough*

I've had my share of relaying family history and stories. All of my siblings are married and have children, so there's been plenty of rehashing of us. My poor husband asks on a weekly basis WTF the reason my parents do or say something is.

He's got no room to talk though.

Recently family history has taken a turn off the paved road, shall we say. New relatives, people kept hidden one or two generations back, have appeared on our radar thanks to the modern marvel of DNA testing. Exact relationships are still being figured out because, we think, those involved are deceased. But initially it looks like a pretty close, family altering, match. On my husband's side. A family history that has been difficult to piece together at times - perhaps we now know why.

I'm in the position now of trying to explain a family's history. What do you start with? Do you stagger info, saving the potentially less ideal for the future? Do you lay it all out from the beginning, warts and all?  I mean the "new" relative is already quite aware somebody in the biological mix kept a secret.

Secondly, how do you address this with the family who is still alive but was not aware of what happened? How do you go about having to rewrite their history?

Time Sucks

As usual, I have thoughts on a simple, easy to put together blog post to try to keep this limping along. And then I sit down. Brain stops working.

In my defense this time, there's a lot going on in my house. I've taken in a not-so-new-to-us member, a nibling in need of some guidance, boundaries and a lot of support and love. It's been a hell of a roller coaster, let me tell you. Instant parent, just add teenager with a sense of entitlement.

Things are in a tentative lull - which is great because I'm exhaustipated (too tired to give a shit)- after a series of emotional upheavals to kick things off. Seizing the moment, I took a little me-time this afternoon once I finished my daily dose of melting in the summer heat.

She went to the store in June, too.

At a snail's pace, I've made my way around various streaming music services. Way, way, far behind the rest of the curve. I'm not too keen on paying a monthly premium to listen to music, but I LOVE music of so many varieties, I can't help but love being able to access just about anything I can think of without having to own it first.

So I signed up for a 3 month trial of a new-to-me service. I've liked all the ones I've tried for different reasons. Some are really great at learning what I like. Some have superior user interfaces. Some are so-so, but their free content/stations are pretty impressive. Whatever the setup, I'm a playlist fiend. Music to keep me moving. Music when I'm annoyed. Music for any and every kind of writing I might attempt. Music from my childhood. Soundtracks that blew me away. All rock. All sugary sweet pop. Alternative angst to make my husband proud.

My deepest time suck - music.

I'm looking forward to the ridiculous time I'll waste cultivating playlists that I may or may not ever use again after the trial is up.