Sitting Alone Under A Tree

Here’s a picture taken underneath the Japanese Blood Maple tree in my back patio area. During the six weeks of Oregon summer, I try to enjoy this tree as much as I can. This year, I added a little solar-powered water fountain under it. I like to sit in a canvas folding chair right next to the fountain, which drowns out the sound of the freeway somewhat, but not totally. Sometimes I read a book out there, but most of the time I enjoy the blue sky and red leaves while I remind myself this will not last for long.

Ideas, Stupid and Small

As you may or may not have already heard, the TV show Futurama is being cancelled (again). This is no bueno. Click here to see what you can do to attempt to save it.

I’ve created a separate page on this site for my favorite things. They’re affiliate links, so I’ll make money if you click on them and buy something (anything) from Amazon.

I am currently working on a small piece of fiction. I also should have a print version of If It Doesn’t Go Away, Come Back soon.

I think I have the same amount of stupid ideas as I did when I was younger, but the difference now is that I’m too lazy to put most of them into action. You are welcome.

Source: geekalerts.com via Neva on Pinterest

13 1/2 murders + 1,423 laughs

Student Bodies (1981) Long before the Scary Movie franchise started, there was this movie. Student Bodies (1981) was a childhood favorite of mine. I’d watch it over and over, giggling my butt off every time. To my delight, Amazon Instant has it available. I found myself reciting some of the lines when I watched it last night, approx. 30 years after I’ve last seen it. I didn’t laugh as much as I did when I was a ten-year-old, but I was still amused by the silly jokes. sigh. It was a nice, stupid walk down memory lane for me. How about you? Remember this one?

An Old Lady With Attitude (and a tiny bit of income)

Yesterday was the last day of my 30s and the first day I ever received a royalty check for my writing. Actually, it wasn’t a check but a deposit into my checking account. Not the same, I know, but just as gratifying.

I’m excited about being 40. My 30s, for the most part, sucked. For me, the I AM FORTY attitude started after the first of the year. As in, I am 40 fucking years old, why should I give a shit anymore? I totally have the urge to embarrass the children I never had. I want to get several more tattoos because they can no longer be regrettable. I don’t feel the need to try to be cool anymore. Because I have survived, because I have made it to 40, I am cool regardless if anybody knows it or not.

As for the royalty payments, there will be more. I have stories to write. After talking with my friend Alissa, I’m considering publishing Come Back as a paperback. I love the process and the challenges of self-publishing. Now that I have finally gotten paid for my writing, I’ve officially become a Writer with a capital W.

Now, my introduction is this: Hi, my name is Neva. I’m a 40-year-old writer living in Portland Oregon. And it feels really good so far.

Addictions and Subtractions

I haven’t been writing any fiction lately, but I’ve been writing. Nothing I can share, not for awhile. But I’ve been writing.

At the beginning of the year, I stopped taking all the narcotic medication prescribed to me. Nothing was becoming “a problem”; It was a matter of polypharmacy. I stopped taking them because of questions I needed answers to, like how much are the pills really helping and do I really need to feel this numb all of the time?

What do I do now? I escape in television, I hide in books. I play a soundtrack of music when I’m in the car.

Another thing, heavy on my mind: Someone very close to me, someone I love very much, is very very sick. As in, it’s a coin-toss whether she’ll make it to next year or not.

What a great time to stop taking sedatives, right?

A few weeks ago, I started taking a meditation class that focuses on spiritual healing because oh, I’m so going to need it.