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One Hell of a Year

I don’t generally do look-back type things, but holy hell was 2024 a lot. Like a lot a lot. Quick kinda month-by-month rundown.

I don’t remember January, but in February Rob and I both tested positive for Covid. The first, and so far only, time–that we’re aware of. March–our router started having issues–we eventually had to replace it. And Lily, our diabetic cat, started losing weight and having issues eating. In April, she had a moment where she kinda just laid on her side and was very non responsive, for about 15 minutes. Took her to the vet, and they couldn’t find anything, though her blood cell count was incredibly high. She went back for x-rays, and they found nothing. And in May, she lost a whole lot of weight–like she was almost skin and bones–so we took her to an emergency vet, and we found out she was riddled with cancer, and the only option for her was to let her go.

I got a new iMac, desk, and blinds for my office space in April, and a new gaming computer in May.

An orange cat stands up against the side of a desk, his paws on a shelf and he's trying to look over it.
Part of the new desk, with Skittles curious about it.
A green iMac sits on a wood monitor stand, on a gray desktop, in front of a blue wall that has scattered glow in the dark stars across it. A keyboard and trackpad sit in front of the monitor stand.
The new iMac.

June and July was a lot of planning to go to Glasgow for WorldCon in August, and a lot of complaining about heat because I dislike summer, and it felt a lot more humid than in the past. In August, the trip to Glasgow, where we ended up in first class the flight to–because we’d waited so long to book the flights that it was cheaper that way. We went to, and enjoyed, WorldCon, but then didn’t really leave the hotel after that because I reacted terribly to the humidity. That, plus being super stuffy with a super runny nose, made my normally a-bit-too-sensitive gag reflex incredibly oversensitive. So wearing a mask was difficult, and I preferred not feeling like I was going to throw up.

The rounded Armadillo auditorium of the Glasgow convention center, with a long, wet sidewalk leading to it.
The Armadillo, part of the convention center complex.

My younger sister came to visit for Labor Day weekend, after her original plans fell through, and she still had a flight into NYC. We took her to Mystic Seaport and Mystic Aquarium, and it was pretty awesome having her visit. Even though I got sunburned because I forgot sunscreen.

A white lighthouse against a blue sky with white fluffy clouds
Lighthouse at Mystic Seaport
A fish tank with coral, and in the foreground, a large fish. Everything is lit with a blacklight.
One of the fish tanks at Mystic Aquarium

Aslo in September, Rob’s birthday. He doesn’t do much to celebrate, so it’s not much different than any other day. We noticed Skittles had been losing weight the past few months. I was worried, especially after Lily, but it didn’t seem too bad.

Skittles sitting in an empty plastic bin, looking up at the camera

October, my birthday. Rob got me an awesome Ahsoka figure.

A boxed 1/6 scale figure of Ahsoka Tano.

That week, Skittles not only looked gaunt, but stopped eating much, and barely drank water. He went from being himself, to lethargic practically overnight. We took him to the vet, they didn’t find anything physically wrong, but did blood work. The results…were not good. The vet didn’t come out and say it, but reading between the lines, it was kidney failure. There was nothing we could do. It still hurts to think about.

We went straight from the vet to the animal shelter. There were two kittens. One was a Bengal-looking girl who was friendly but didn’t much want to be held and didn’t want anything to do with the other kitten. The other kitten was a gray boy who walked out of the cage and into my arms and was interested in everything going on around him. There was another kitten, a mostly black tortoise-shell girl that was brought in with the gray boy, but she was being treated for a respiratory infection and wasn’t available for adoption. We brought the boy–George–home.

A gray cat laying on a white woman's chest, both looking at the camera.
Me with George, our new gray kitty

Two weeks later, we went back for the girl and brought her home. She and George aren’t from the same litter–about 2 months difference in age–but likely came from the same place, so they got along from the start.

a mostly black tortie kitten in a cat carrier, looking up with very bright eyes
Lucy on her way home

Then a week later, we went to New Jersey and picked up Orange Boy (the temporary name we used until we figured out his actual name). He was a bit of a bully, but also rather submissive, with George and Lucy. We really hoped he’d mellow once he got fixed–which took longer than we’d have liked, and he’d started humping Lucy the week or so before–because we were concerned he wasn’t going to work out. But he got fixed just before Thanksgiving, and while still a lot–which is where the name Pippin comes from–he’s much better and gets along with George and Lucy.

An orange kitten stepping out of a cat carrier and touching noses with a mostly black tortie.
Lucy meeting Pippin for the first time
a gray kitten with an arched back and very puffy tail, standing in the middle of a room with dark red vinyl tile flooring.
George, first seeing Pippin

November was…also not great. For some months, there was worry with my job. Work was being moved around between departments and some positions were gone and a couple new ones were created. I could’ve applied for one of those, but it was puzzle creation/editing, which if I’d wanted to do that, I could’ve applied for other jobs in the past. Unfortunately, my position was one that was cut. Not an ideal situation, but it happens. And the company’s good about the severance package offered. Health insurance was one worry, but Rob was able to add me to his, so that’s covered.

We put up the Christmas tree–with fewer ornaments and nothing breakable, because kittens–and Pippin liked to chew on the lower branches and Lucy liked to climb it.

A mostly black tortie looking out from inside a Christmas tree, her face surrounded by pine needles and Christmas lights.
Lucy looking out from the tree

Lucy got a back paw stuck, and I heard her meowing but didn’t realize she was stuck, and when I tried to get her out of the tree, she bit my left wrist, three or four times. Then twisted her head around and bit my right index finger. Really, really hard. When I went to get a towel to try to wrap around her and get her, she got herself free, so instead, I used it to clean up the bleeding. Had to go to the walk-in clinic the next day because so much swelling and tenderness, and got antibiotics. Nail eventually came off. Finger is still somewhat sore and slightly numb.

About a week before Christmas, one of the kittens–likely Pippin–chewed through the wire for the lights, so we had to unplug the tree. And it came down after Christmas and will go out with bulk pickup in spring, and we’ll get a new one later this year.

Sunday after Christmas, Rob and I went to wash clothes like normal. When the washer was supposed to be done, we went to check, and it had the error code for too many suds. Set it again, restarted it, and when we went back down, same thing. Opened the door, and water was pooled in the bottom of the drum. Rob pulled out the towels, and those got hung up and the other clothes thrown in the dryer. When we went to check the dryer, his mom handed us a troubleshooting card, and we checked everything it said on there–we’d already done most of it–and we checked the filter. Opening that drained all the water out, and we discovered some kinda wipe wrapped around the entire thing. Pulled that out, started a rinse/spin cycle, and it did drain, but every spin made the drum thump.

So that was a great way to end the year.

also, so far, 2025? Also shitty.

We got a repairman out who looked at the washer and said it would cost nearly as much to fix as to replace, so we got a new washer and got that delivered and installed. Then the microwave stopped working correctly, and was basically dying, so that got replaced.

I was supposed to visit a friend in England, but because of a really bad ear problem that made travel difficult–meaning no one to pick me up at the airport and stay with–that got canceled day of the flight. It’ll get rescheduled soon.

So it’s been a helluva year already, and I’m not expecting too much better–in general because, well, look at everything going on and how shitty that is.

To end on an amusing note, Pippin likes curling up in the bathroom sink. And doesn’t necessarily move when the water gets turned on.

an orange cat looks up, a somewhat sad look on his face. his face is speckled with water droplets.
Pippin in the sink
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100 Days of Exercise

In September, I decided to start exercising regularly. Again. And keep at it. Last time I managed to exercise regularly was something like 2008-2010, or around there, before I got bronchitis. I’ve tried lots since, but always skipped weeks because of vacations or holidays or summers, and never managed to make a habit of it.

This time, though, I was annoyed enough, and tired enough of feeling uncomfortable, that I was determined. I decided to exercise 2-4 days a week–depending on grocery shopping, days off, appointments, etc. So mostly 3 or 4 days. And I decided, at least to start with, I would post a pic to facebook, and number they days I exercised. I originally thought I’d do that the first month or so, but I found it encouraging, so kept posting. Plus, I included comments about what all’s been going on here, which I’m generally bad about talking to anyone unless they’re right in front of me, or initiate conversation themselves.

On Thursday, I got to 100 days of exercising on the treadmill.

  • Day 1–taken while walking on the treadmill
  • Day 100–taken after the treadmill stopped

Since September, my bloodwork has improved–except my triglycerides, which have always been an issue–my endurance is better, and my resting heart rate is lower. I did lose a little weight (and no, it’s really not something you can tell by looking, those pics aren’t a good comparison for that), but that was overall just what I’d gained last year, not much more. And really, weight loss isn’t the main goal, aside from getting back to feeling comfortable in my body, it’s more of a side effect bonus. It won’t really happen until I add in exercise that’ll strengthen muscles, because experience tells me that’s where I start to see any actual difference.

Last year to April 10 this year. The gain is March through September, then drop, then the up and down is from weighing after work/lunch on Mondays and before food on weekends.

I will add in strength exercises, once my room has enough floor space, which will hopefully be before the weather gets too warm, since heat/humidity will keep me out of the basement, and my room will have AC. And sometime in the future, I wanna get a ballet barre and a bit more room in the basement, cause I miss moving in ways that are more fun and feel less like work.

Today’s not 101, because grocery shopping.

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Words fade away

So. I wanted to write again. I started a couple different stories. I wrote a few snippets in the world of my urban fantasy novel. I did another read-through and polish pass of said novel. I might’ve broke about 5,000 words total. I didn’t do the math when I was looking. Right now, I’d rather not.

I know why I haven’t written. It’s an issue I’ve been struggling with pretty much since I finished the novel. See, thing is, I think it’s good, and I know the first third is pretty decent–I’ve had several people read that and give me feedback. Past that point, though, I’m really not sure how well it works. If there’s anything boring, or unclear, anything that I know because I know the story but didn’t actually put into the novel for the readers. I can’t get anyone to read the middle and the end.

Yeah, Rob’s read it through, but that was pretty much because I had to practically guilt him into it. He still says he’s not the right person to give me feedback, and if I ask for help, he either doesn’t respond, or he agonizes over it for so long that I get annoyed and go away.

None of this is very encouraging. I mean, if I can’t find beta readers to read past the beginning, why should I expect that an agent would want to, or an editor, and for that matter, why would I ever expect anyone to actually pay to read the book?

I know there are other options, aside from asking for people to read. Critique groups and critique partners aren’t something I’ll commit to. Small part because I’ve pretty much never had a good experience with critique groups, but largely because they’re a give and take–they read my work and give critique in exchange for me reading theirs and giving critique. I won’t promise something that I won’t follow through on, and considering that I’ve only just remembered this thing and reset the password so I could actually log in, not really a good idea for people to expect anything like that from me.

I tried to find beta readers for two years, and then I pretty much gave up. Problem with that is that it causes enormous self-doubt and undermines any attempt I might make at writing a query. Especially for an urban fantasy, which at the moment, I know is a hard sell. And it undermines my ability to make myself put words down on paper, until I have something else finished.

There are still moments where I have near manic moods where I want to write–had one earlier today–but when I have pen and paper in front of me, none of the ideas coalesce into anything that wants to be words. I know this is a consequence of not having written for so long, but that doesn’t make it any less disheartening.

I’m still trying; I’m still putting some kinda words down, like these, even if they don’t make a story. They’re still words, and that’s the important part.

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Pages turn

Yesterday, I went through numbers for 2018–words I wrote, hours I spent researching or worldbuilding or reading through for revisions, books I read–and I was a bit mixed about the results.

I read 91 books–technically less, because that includes comics and graphic novels, short stories, and novellas. I’d say something around 20ish fall under those categories, and some were audiobook rereads. I don’t have the numbers nearby, but as is normal for me, more women than men, though I didn’t look at how that broke down by single author–I read lots of books in series. Overall, that’s 20 more than 2017.

Writing wise, that’s not so good. I wrote all of about 9,100 words. Both the number written and the hours I spent on revisions and research and all was down from 2017, which was also greatly down from 2016. Yeah, I spent quite a bit of time polishing one novel and reading through a previous draft for potential rewriting, but I had a rough year and overall didn’t write much. Likely why I read so much more.

I know I can do better–in 2015 I wrote just under 81,000 and just over 51,000 in 2016. But I’m not berating myself. 9,100 is still words written, even if it’s not what it could’ve been.

This year, I’m going to attempt to write outside my comfort zone and see how I can do at writing romance. Or at least paranormal romance, since that fits into the sorta urban fantasy subset that I prefer. I’ve read quite a bit, though nowhere near extensively, and the most challenging thing I’ve found so far is that I’m not sure where to start looking for any helpful info. And it’s been so long since I began looking into SF/F that I don’t even remember how I got started there. It just kinda happened.

Hopefully I’ll finish one of the many, many, many different stories I’ve started, or maybe completely write something new. We’ll see.

(second blog post this year–already an improvement over the past.)

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And the rain falls

I’m starting the new year sitting in the dark, Skittles asleep beside me on the bed, watching Hercules and listening to the rain.

The past couple years have been something of a roller coaster, for a large variety of reasons that I’m not going into for just as many reasons, but suffice to say that I’ve done what I always do when I grow quiet–I watch and I listen and I learn. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to do things moving forward, but I think I’ve been silent enough and it’s more than time I remember my voice.

Have a cute Skittles picture.