2012 So Far: It’s All Coming Together

I’ve been horribly lacking in the blogging department lately. I’d apologize, but I’ve been accomplishing a lot. As some of you know, my parents, sister, and I moved in with my grandparents about six years ago. The house is a three-family home, and each apartment is a one-bedroom. Originally, my great-grandmother lived on the first floor and my grandparents lived on the third floor. My great aunt lives on the second floor. When we moved in, my sister and I moved in with my grandparents on the third floor, and my parents moved in with my great-grandmother on the first floor. It was supposed to be temporary, so we literally slapped down mattresses in the middle of each apartment. When Popi got sick, he and Noni moved downstairs and my parents came upstairs. Mike moved in with us on the third floor. Popi passed away. Our apartment continued to look like a hostel rather than a home.

For years, we planned on moving things around, making it look better, but for one reason or another (conflicting schedules, procrastination, etc), it never quite happened. We did finally empty out our storage unit and move everything into the cellar. Mom rearranged the bedroom. I decided to stop waiting for any kind of collaborative effort and took it upon myself to rearrange my sister’s and my room, what was originally our grandparents’ dining room.

For the past six years, our mattresses sat on an angle in the middle of the room, leaving only a slim pathway between the living room and kitchen. It’s still not done, but I moved a lot of furniture around, went through all of my things and took out several garbage bags, vacuumed, dusted… and ended up with this:

Coming together...

Coming together...

There’s still a huge walnut desk and dry sink that need to be moved downstairs so that Noni can use them again (the dry sink is just for decoration), but it’s coming together nicely. Mostly, I’m proud of myself because I thought I couldn’t do anything like this anymore (moving furniture around). I thought it’d be too much on my body… which it was, but I did it anyway. And you know what? Every day after I moved furniture, I felt a little better. Sure, I popped a lot of Tylenol and Tramadol at night after lifting, heaving, and tugging all day, but the sense of pride I felt way outweighed the pain.

I’ve lost a little momentum now, but can’t do much more anyway until the desk and dry sink come out. I have “before” pictures and I can’t wait to show you them with the “after” pictures I’m going to take. I know it’s probably not such a big deal, but knowing I did this all by myself is a big deal to me. Take that, joint pain! Plus, getting anything done around here is a big deal anyway. We’ve all been sardined in here for so long that everyone’s sort of gotten comfortable with it, even though we all complain about the lack of space.

I printed out the first draft of Secondhand Mom, and as I put the pages into plastic page protectors in a binder, I noticed a lot of continuity errors just from speed reading as I went through the stack. I sort of want to edit Secondhand Mom before I work on Sade On the Wall, but I’m not sure yet. I think SOTW will be easier to turn into a second draft, because there aren’t any continuity errors, just some style issues, accuracy with some description, and maybe pace. The more editing and revising I do, the more I love it.

Speaking of which, I’ve edited and revised another short story to be published as an ebook soon. I just need to format the manuscript and haven’t had the chance to do it. I did design a cover, though, and after sleeping on it for a few days, I’m really happy with it and won’t be making any changes. At some point, I’m going to write up a quick post about designing covers.

And continuing with the writing theme… I found a website that has tons of freelance copywriting jobs, and was thinking about trying to make that into my part-time income, but then decided I’d rather spend that time working on my fiction. So, one of my goals for this year have changed, just a little.

I’m really anxious to get this room finished, though, because my whole reason for rearranging it was to create a more organized and comfortable work space for myself. I have a hard time doing any writing when I feel cluttered.

I’ve also been thinking about going back to Facebook. Hear me out. I know I said I wouldn’t, but it’s becoming more and more clear to me that, for marketing purposes, I do probably need to be there, to some extent. I want to get my hands dirtier with self-publishing and submitting stories to markets so that when I start querying Sade On the Wall, I have somewhat of a name and readership built up for myself. I was talking with a friend one night over dinner about self-publishing and she asked me if she could do it, too. “Sure,” I said. “You’d even have a leg up on me, because you still have a Facebook, with friends and family on it who’d support your work.” And it’s true. I gained a lot of readers through Facebook. Half the time, I didn’t even know people were reading until it was casually mentioned, or someone emailed me about a blog post I’d written. I’ve decided that, if I do go back, my personal profile will be completely locked down, and I’ll use it only to run a page focused on my writing. That way, I won’t have to deal with most of the things I hated about Facebook. I haven’t completely decided yet, though.

Speaking of social media, I now have an author profile on Goodreads. This isn’t nearly as cool as it sounds. It’s still the same profile I had before, just more writerly. I’m still relatively unknown… but I’m hoping this will give me a leg up. Maybe I won’t have to return to the devil Facebook. ;)

However — and this is cool — I discovered that Goodreads authors can put their ebooks up for sale there… so “Moon Prayer” is now available on Goodreads. “Moon Prayer” is still not available on Amazon… but De told me it’s because Smashwords and Amazon are at some kind of standstill for negotiations, so I need to upload it to Amazon myself. This is on my mile-long To Do list… which is only getting longer, but I love every minute of this.

I’ve been following De’s successes closely for a long time now, but recently started following the success story of Amanda Hocking as well, and the more I read about either of them, the more possible this all seems. I’m going to be an author. It doesn’t feel far-fetched, like some kind of pipe dream. It feels like a real dream. It still scares me, but in a good way.

If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough.

via Pinterest

It’s freeing.

Aside from all that, I’ve been reading, experimenting with clothing and makeup, contemplating cutting my hair, spending time with friends and family, saving my ass off for a Mac and an apartment, snuggling with my cat, loving Mike and falling in love with him over and over, and just enjoying life in general.

It’s all coming together.

Making New Christmas Memories After Losing Someone

Popi, Lauren, and I, Christmas 2009

Popi, Lauren, and I, Christmas 2009

I didn’t know how to celebrate Christmas when there was one less person to celebrate with. We lost my grandfather to cancer less than six months before Christmas, and it still felt like a hole gaped and ached in my heart. Instead of being excited and doing the usual things to get ready, I felt like a prop being dragged back and forth along the stage of my life. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Christmas. Then, I had one of my first migraines.

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How do you get through the holidays without a loved one you’ve lost?

Happy 72nd Birthday, Popi

Popi

Popi

Dear Popi,

It’s been over a year since we lost you. It feels like it was yesterday, but at the same time, it feels like a year. So much has changed in the last year, for better and for worse. What hasn’t changed is that you’re still not here. That sucks. It still hurts, but it’s hurting a little less now. I never thought I’d be able to say that, and maybe I won’t be able to say it tomorrow, but I’m happy to be able to say it today. I still miss you, though, and still wish you were here. That will never change.

I wanted to do a cake for you again this year, but by the time I thought to say something to Noni, she had already gone up to Camp for the weekend, and now tonight everyone is out, anyway. Still, I don’t need a cake and a gathering to celebrate your birthday. I refuse to celebrate the day you died — even when Noni refers to it as your rebirthday — but I also refuse to not celebrate the day you were born. Even though there’s no cake and no candles, I can still wish that wherever you are, you are happy, and that we will meet again someday.

Happy birthday, Popi.

Love,
Your “Pumpkin”

The Ring

Mike completely surprised me when he officially asked me to marry him. I’d been suspecting he might ask me, but chalked it up to me being a girl when nothing happened at dinner. I can honestly say I was surprised when he asked, which is good, because despite the many times I thought he was going to do it, I was disappointed in myself for even thinking it because it would ruin the big surprise.

(In case you’re a guy and you’re wondering: Yes, we women are very complex, slightly crazy creatures. Someone should pay us for being this weird; it’s a lot of work.)

After he asked me, he told me that he had a ring, which threw me completely off guard because I thought he asked because we always ask each other. We’ve talked about it a thousand times. We’ve even talked about our wedding party and who would be what in the wedding. He always said one day he would officially ask me. He said that he didn’t have the ring on him, though, and that Britt had it because it was their grandmother Nanny’s.

When it comes to our families, Mike and I are almost the same person. We love our families fiercely, especially our grandparents. My relationship with Noni and Popi and how I feel about them is pretty much the same as Mike’s relationship with his Nanny and Poppy. I never got to meet them, but I know all about them.

So when he told me that the ring he was giving me had been Nanny’s, was passed down to Britt, and that Britt wanted to give it to me because she loves me, I teared up. I always thought I was the type of girl who wouldn’t cry when the Big Question was asked, but I did, so here we are.

“Text Britt and see if she’s home!” he said excitedly as he drove. “Actually, call her!”

She answered right away. “Hey, are you home?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Put her on speaker!” Mike almost sang out.

I told Britt to hold on and put her on speaker.

“Hey,” he said. “Would you mind if we stopped by?”

“Sure,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just gotta pick up a ring.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and I knew she could, too.

“Oh!” she said. “Yeah, come over!”

It's so delicate, so gorgeous.

It's so delicate, so gorgeous.

When we got to her house, she was elated. “I always knew you’d be my sister!” she said. She handed the ring to Mike and he started to put it on my finger. Nanny’s fingers were really small, though, so I couldn’t get it on past the second joint of my finger. Britt came to the rescue, though, and told us that her boyfriend Tyson has a friend who can size it for us. Leave it to my future sister-in-law to have everything in order! She really is a lifesaver. For the time being, we put it on my chain where I was wearing my promise ring (since the skin underneath that ring was getting all irritated from having water trapped under the ring).

Before we left, she said, “I’m so excited! Now we can start planning the wedding!” It didn’t hit me until hours later that…

  • Holy shit, I have to plan a wedding! 8O
  • Holy shit, I get to plan a wedding! :lol:

(Remember guys, we women are weird like that.)

I’m ecstatic. Last night, while watching Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix, I tried out my future name: “Mrs. Michael Campbell,” “Elizabeth Kaylene Campbell,” “Mrs. Campbell,” “Elizabeth Campbell,” “Liz Campbell,” and “Mike and Liz Campbell.” It makes me giggle like a three-year-old every time, because it sounds so good.

And, even though I put the ring away until it gets sized so that nothing happens to it, today I’m wearing it on my pinky because I can’t not wear it. Strangely enough, I feel naked without it.

Wearing it on my pinky today.

Wearing it on my pinky today.

We don’t have a date set yet because we’re broke, but as soon as we decide on what we want — we already have an idea, but it’s not final — we’ll probably be able to set a date based on how long it’ll take for us to save up. We’re in no rush, but oh man, I can’t wait.

Liz Campbell. Heehee.

PS: I have a lightbox plugin, so if you click on the pictures in this post, you can see them full size and really see how beautiful this ring is. I’m honored that it’s been passed to me. It means so much.

Add another name to the list of people fighting the C word

I just found out that my mom’s uncle’s wife, Martha, has stage three breast cancer. It’s the kind that isn’t receptive to hormonal treatments, and they’re having a hard time finding something they can treat her with, because so far she’s not receptive to anything they’ve tested for.

She starts chemo next week, and is going to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston to see if they can some up with something.

Even though Martha isn’t blood related to me, I really like her. She can be kind of goofy, but in a good way. My sister and I used to have sleepovers at her and my mom’s uncle Paul’s house when we were little, and always had a blast. She’s also one of the few people on my mom’s side of the family who like and are nice to Mike, and she’s genuinely excited that we’re going to get married at some point. She’s so nice, in fact, that I used to sometimes wonder if she was an alien, but then I learned that there is a whole tribe of exuberant people spread throughout the world — sort of ambassadors whose only mission is to spread happiness. My friend’s girlfriend G is one of these people. I’m pessimistic by nature, so being around these ambassadors of happy used to be really hard for me.

Martha doesn’t deserve this, at all. How can someone so nice, someone so healthy get sick so suddenly? She had a mammogram six months ago and everything was fine. Now she’s got this aggressive breast cancer and facing a double mastectomy. I just don’t understand.

I also don’t understand how some cancers are easier to treat than others. Popi’s wasn’t one of these, but Noni’s is. Martha’s is one of the harder ones.

I just don’t understand. It seems like everywhere I turn, someone else is being diagnosed with some kind of cancer. It’s like a horror movie, but there’s no end to it, and I can’t pause or stop it. I told my mom that the next time I find out someone has cancer, I’m not even going to be surprised. It’s like suddenly the world is full of cancer; it feels like we have more cancer now than ever before, with no rhyme or reason to it.

I just don’t understand.