I am so terribly looking forward to this.
I know it’s not going to be ANYTHING like Soilwork two weeks ago, but the reviews I’ve read told me that I’m in for a night of pure awesomeness. That, and I get to turn into a puddle of goo when I listen to Corey screaming, that’ll pretty much make my day already.
Slipknot, here I come

As quite a few of you know already, I do not possess a sense of smell. I do not have any recollections of smelling anything, no memory of it. My mom swears I reacted to smells when I was a toddler, but at age 2 or 3 I got an ear infection, and then an infection on a bone in my ear, and apparently I lost the sense of smell somewhere around that time.

Nobody ever found out, because I had no idea what the hell I was missing. I just pretended, what the hell did I know? If somebody farted, I said ‘ewww’ like everybody else. And for some reason, it just didn’t come up. I had lots of colds as a kid, so everyone just assumed I was having a cold at the time when I didn’t respond to any smells or said I didn’t smell anything.

What stands out to me most is when I was eleven of something. My neighbour friend Eveline and I were walking down the stairs in my house and Eveline said: “You’re eating brocolli tonight.”
And I wondered how the hell she knew. She gave me a weird look. “Your mom is cooking it. Can’t you smell it, then?”
I didn’t. And that’s when I kind of realized.

I don’t know how it came up, or whatever, but at some point we saw a doctor about it, who said he couldn’t really do anything about it. And that’s basically my story.

People always ask me if I can’t taste, either. But I can. Or at least I think I do; what the hell do I know? I know what kinds of food I like and dislike, I’m a sucker for sweet stuff. But I can’t distinguish whether you’re serving me strawberry tea or orange tea, for example. That’s mostly smell-based, apparently. Blindfold me and give me an orange or strawberry and HELL YES I know what I’m tasting. (Oh and btw, I’ve sniffed ammonia once, after Olli dared me to in biology class when I was fifteen. And it made me fall off my chair as if I got punched in the face. Just so you know)

It never particularly bothered me. It’s even been handy in some (smelly) cases, where I could clean out places that had other people gagging and throwing up. Festivals are a whole lot less unpleasant for me because I’m not bothered by the smell of beer, piss, and sweat. Port-a-potties are disgusting because they’re filthy, but not because they smell. I always glossed over the part where it’s dangerous - leaving the gas on, checking whether you’re not burning your food, being careful about spoilt food, and so on, and so on.

Tonight I googled the affliction for the first time in my life. It has a name. Anosmia.
And when I read this particular quote…

“Often people who have congenital anosmia report that they pretended to be able to smell as children because they thought that smelling was something that older/mature people could do, or did not understand the concept of smelling but did not want to appear different from others. When children get older, they often realize and report to their parents that they do not actually possess a sense of smell, often, to the surprise of their parents.”

It nearly made me cry. Because it IS the story of my life. And suddenly it made me really sad. I’m missing out on so much, and I’ll never even know the smell of freshly baked bread, of rain coming, of coffee, the ocean, or even the smell of my house and my husband. I’ll never know.
I don’t really want to ask for attention about this, which is maybe why I’ve never made a big deal out of it.
It’s just tonight for the first time in my life, that I think this really fucking sucks.

Through IO9.com I stumbled over something that made me giggle because of the premise: It’s a UK miniseries called Dead Set.
Says IO9: “If you’ve ever watched an episode of reality TV series Big Brother and wished everybody involved would just get ripped apart by rampaging zombies, then you’re about to feel seriously awesome. The UK miniseries Dead Set is all about what happens to the cast and crew of Big Brother when a zombie plague hits England. The best part? It’s all filmed on the Big Brother set.”

I asked Olli to download it, and man, am I glad we watched it! It’s seriously funny, and gory, and it has a pretty smart plot (yeah, that surprised me too). One of the commenters on IO9 said it best, I think: “I’m surprised that it isn’t just played for laughs. The Big Brother contestants are just as vapid and stupid and irritating as you would expect them to be, but once the zombies start attacking they become almost - how do I say it? - human. The handheld style of camerawork undercuts the bizarre comedy and keeps it in check, so you don’t realize how funny a raging zombie in a wheelchair is until you recall it the next day. Angry wheelchair zombie - heh.”

Anyway, if you’re into zombie movies, go check it out & download it somewhere. It is at times hilarious, and horrible. And I had a great time watching it.
(and perhaps it even sparked a bit of inspiration on my own nano plot. Even though that one DOESN’T feature zombies)

So I’ve been plotting today. And even though it still didn’t ignite a fiery love for my story, it did dawn on me that if I would have known this course of events earlier, then this story would have been a lot more fun to tell.
I am NEVER going to do it this way again. *nods*

In the light of taking better care of myself, I’ve signed up with a fitness school that’s right next door to my work. The good thing about it is that my work is subsidizing fitness, so I only pay E20 a month for as much fitnessy goodness I like. I have my introduction lesson on the 2nd of December, so Olli and I ventured out to shop for sports clothes today. Mission accomplished! I have new sweatpants, a sports bra, and new sneakers. I’m all ready to rumble! I’m pretty excited about it, too, even though I know I’ll probably have lots of issues with keeping myself on track and muscle aches and stuff. I just have to do something about my blubber ass & belly, it’s getting to the point again that I don’t feel right in my own clothes, and nothing looks good on me anymore. So it’s time to get to business. I remember how good I felt about my stomach muscles in 2002; and I want to get back to that again.

In other news, I’m completely demotivated for Nano, and I don’t really know what to do about it. I just hit this great big wall that says NO IDEAS and I’m beating my head bloody on it. I have no plot, and I hate it. My characters aren’t very sympathetic either, and I am still not close enough to them that they make their own decisions. My writing’s been poor the past 10K as well. I have no idea what’s come over me.
Maybe I really did burn myself out on Shards.

Anyway, everyone with plot ideas is more than welcome.

At age fourteen I met this guy (let’s name him P) at some fair in Opmeer. I was there with my boyfriend Kris at the time and he knew some people who knew my boyfriend. So we chatted a bit, and I commented on his necklace, which had a pendant that said ‘reiki’. He told me about Reiki in a very roundabout way (about energy and healing), and when I was intrigued he offered to demonstrate. Sure, I said. So he laid his hands in my neck, closed his eyes and said: “You’re sporting a minor headache. Right here.”
And he indicated at the place that had been giving me a bit of a headache all day. I think I said something along the lines of “wtf” and he asked me if I wanted him to take away that blockade of energy, so I’d feel better again.
Well, duh, I said yes of course. And his hands got warmer; I could feel that. It didn’t do anything immediately, but half an hour later I was surprised to note that this minor headache I didn’t tell anyone about earlier that day because it wasn’t enough to REALLY bug me, was gone.
This guy was also the first & only one who took a good look at me and my then-boyfriend Kris and said honestly and bluntly to me that I didn’t love Kris as much as he loved me. And I realized with a start that he was right; I didn’t feel that much for Kris apart from friendship – I was 14 years old and I had no idea wtf I was doing in this or any relationship anyway (way too young, way too egocentric adolescent back then. I still feel sorry about that). Now how that resolved is a completely different story, but this was my first introduction to Reiki. This guy P had a remarkable insight in people, he read me like a book like no one had ever done before. Also, the thing he did with the energy; it really worked. Very weird.

Anyway, flashforward four years, until age 17-18, when I was dating ex boyfriend Remko. Remko’s mother is a reiki master. And talk about your canny insight in people. She and Rem were pretty spiritual anyway, into growth and everything. I was very impressed by her, but she’s also just honestly a great woman. I’ve met up with her several times during my life and we always had great chats. She’s a great person.
We did talk about reiki, and I told her about the experience with P.; she smiled when I asked how she and P did that reiki thing anyway, because I wanted to do that, too. “Why?” she asked me. 
“Well, to help other people of course.”
She just shook her head at that. “To help others, first you have to want to help yourself. You have to do it for YOU, not for them.”
I didn’t really understand that at the time.

I do understand now. And now I want to help myself.

It came on my path again the other day and I realized that throughout all the stories I’ve ever told, energy has been a major issue; next to love. You write about what you want, and what you fear. So energy and love have maybe even been a theme throughout my life. And I thought… what the hell. Why not. Maybe this is something for me. If I don’t do this, I’ll wonder all my life what this is really about. So 23 November Wendy and I are going to be initiated into Reiki.
I’m terribly looking forward to this.

11.30PM, 40K is reached. I’ve uploaded the rest as well, because this chapterpiece ends on a nice & omnious note

9.30PM, Chapter 8 is done. In which Remy blogs, Kalinka rambles, Jamie makes dinner, and Kaya freaks. Bigtime. Wordcount so far: 38352

You can find what I’ve written HERE.

And go Bren, that 50K is totally yours!! *waves with pompons*

I suddenly find myself in some bizarro universe. What I always thought would never happen EVER just happened. One of the things I’d accepted about myself is that whatever birthcontrol I’d be on, I’d have a freak cycle that would vary between 3 and 13 weeks.

This is the reason why I’ve been using the Implanon and the Mirena, because then I could actually trust that I was steadily protected. It was easier for me to trust in something that was placed inside my body than a pill that I could forget to take every day. I found it easier to trust that things were alright when my period was late, this way. And my period was always late. Or way early. Or whatever. It’s very easy to grow paranoid this way. But I lived this way for the past fifteen years of which I’ve spent ten years in a steady relationship, so I learned not to worry and become a bit fatalistic about it. If it would happen, it would happen.

Not now, though. For the fourth cycle in a row, I’ve had my period on the fourth week. I would cry if I wasn’t so astonished.

Seriously, me … regular? Next thing you know is that the sun’ll turn green O_o

So why are we trusting all those cynical souls
Bleeding, aching, bleeding, aching, bleeding with hearts
Open wide all so cold
Live for the moment get killed for the thrill
Bleeding, aching, bleeding, aching, bleeding for nothing
For we’ve seen it all

These lyrics make me terribly happy to shout along on top of my lungs I’ve been having this song on eternal repeat the past two days during writing, because somehow it seems to fit the story. Also, it’s a gorgeous awesome song. That helps, too!

Soilwork is love, and so is the ‘Natural Born Chaos’ album.
Brenda, you were right.

9.30PM and another 1000 words while I was waiting until I could rinse out hairdye I’ll put them up when I’ve got the chapter done, or  a good ending point for this thing. Because right now it’s 2K of getting to know Kalinka.

7.30PM: I have more & more love for Write Or Die. That running timer is doing wonders for my output. It really forces me to produce and keep producing. I just wrote 1000 words in 20 minutes. Awesome. I’m going to share it with you here, btw… as soon as the chapter is done. For now, just know that I’m the proud owner of 35058 words written in my nanowrimo file

4PM: Chapter seven is done. It’s a sad one though… and it brings me to 33877. The Write Or Die website helps me a lot, it really forces me to produce. Also, I have a bit of plot again, so for a little while longer, I know where I’m going.

1PM: For your enjoyment, this is chapter six of which I wrote the most yesterday, up till 29.5K. I did 1K today so far, but there’ll be more forthcoming. For now, here’s chapter six. In which stuff happens that was unplanned, because from here on I have no plot anymore
Wordcount: 30603

You can read what I’ve written HERE!