Hello, October

It's October. Really it's here. Much to my disbelief and shock.
I can't believe what a summer it has been and that we've been recovering, trying to survive.

Nonetheless, it's October. Fall is officially here as of September 22nd and I have been loving it. Autumn is my favorite season of the year and I usually can't have the fall long enough. The leaves changing color, the lattes are the part everyone likes about Autumn. I like the ability to calm down, get together and the inspiring mood it puts me into write. The ability to appreciate and create cozy corners in the house and in my heart to appreciate the people who are in it and make lasting memories with awesome people whether it is apple picking, pumpkin carving or Halloween parties.

I am at a great open critique group which I enjoy and have come to make some friends. Having writer friends was the best decision I could have made. I wonder why I waited so long to foster these relationships? I am back to taking classes, even if they are online and free ones. I am back to reading and writing at a steady pace. I am trying to make these more regular once again. I will be taking a publishing course at the Madison College and will be attending several U.W. Mini Courses. I am excited for October. So much change, so much positivity that I am hoping that things will become great habits and they will continue into the winter, holding me fast and tight where I am, bound and committed to my work.

I also having to watch over two children, aged 4 and 8 have done wonders both for my imagination and the feelings of responsibility. I also pack more for my day and try to be better for myself.

Hello October. I am glad you're here.

Item Number Two

With that, this brings me to our number two and its many sidesteps. So in order to be under S's health care insurance, we will need to be legally married. We are now in the gathering process and I plan to do something very small, very simple, i.e. getting married at the judge's chambers and go out for drinks. Nothing special, nothing white, no flowers and nothing like that.

I am looking forward to legally and spiritually combining our lives into one. We will be a real family now. Just you and me, babe.

Still Cooking

And after all of this time and still being depressed, I am proud of myself for not giving up on cooking. I continue to cook for each meal (even if it's in batches and prepared ahead). It makes me feel like I am doing something with my time, with my day. There is some sort of paradox of progress that is comforting to me. This isn't necessarily what I am hoping to achieve, but daily activities like this, will eventually pull me out enough to have the inclination to catch up at the least.

I am enjoying cooking more than ever and I even feel venturous enough to do exotic dishes, I've never done before.

Feeling better, one meal at a time.

Cooking Again

As a background, until I moved to Madison, I only knew how to make omelets, and that's about it. But after moving out here, starving and having digestive problems, it was time to take matters into my own hand. So I began cooking with some great and not so great success rate. Eventually though, I got much better and came to be known as the best cook around. So cooking is something that is emotional to me. I cook better when I am happier. You can find me singing as I cook usually. If it starts becoming a chore and I am not doing well emotionally, it can have the power to make me feel better. But, if I am down beyond repair, I give it up. I feel like it's directly linked to my will of living.

Cooking, however has strong emotional strings for me. It has the power to remind me of my horrid days which I created a situation for myself to come over my own obstacles. Because of that, I feel like I am slowly getting better.

If I am willing enough to cook, care enough to supply S with something, perhaps there is hope for me still.

No More Moving Blues

Now that it has been decided for us that we must move out, it's been a relief. It was not what we were planning, but it's now our reality. Now that it is, it's actually slowly getting me excited. Excited, because I can leave this place with all kinds of history, past behind. A history that doesn't belong to me. S and I can start a new, leaving our old fights behinds, the issues that has been bothering us, and we can begin a new life at our new apartment, together. A union of solidarity and cohesiveness. It means I can also do both a physical and a mental clean-up. Get rid of old stuff, begin a new and start feeling better myself.

To be boxing stuff to give away, to throw out and to bring with us to our new apartment is relaxing. A little bit of the old is getting aired, tosses away, and by removing the old, it's giving me the space to breathe and embrace anew.

Maybe, moving is no longer a bad thing.