1. Deal with WordPressissuedammit
2. Stop sneaking out with candy
3. Wash clothes.
4. Clean ears.
5. ReRecord Everything
6. Throw away most of my Evernotes. Into the lava of mt. doom.
8. Eat salad.
9. Go back on Internet. Keep tweeting into the vast silence that is the void of the blackness that is Social Media
10. Retag everything I wrote ever.
11. Create Charming Videos in which I bother to brush hair.
12. here is an orange. It’s not a Pumpkin but it tried, okay?
Tag Archive: queen-of-the-wild-frontier
1. Deal with WordPressissuedammit
Typically not my cup of tea.
Last summer (2012) was productive and nice until a crashing tragic halt, the summer before that confusing but Somewhat re-empowering; but all I can remember of The Junes is that they had clear warning signs I did not heed.
Junes are usually a month of crescendo into a fairly sweet-but-odd lull of calm-before-IT in July.
Then August, the month I lost my mom. And then it goes ever afterward. The month from hell. June always foreshadows this, for me. It’s a month that tells me “watch your back, kid.”
Septembers are weird, and lately I don’t know about Denise New Year either (October 1). It was bad this year. Maybe because the August of 2013 was not so bad. Depression came in September.
In general, although personally productive, last few years have been kind of Alone-ly. It’s what happens when you grow up. Maybe.
I tend to negatively self assess. Say I am “bad” at things. Bad at June, unaware of July, miserable at coping with August… Stupidly unprepared for Septembers …
Maybe next June it’ll be different. I’ll see I’m going around the same lifetracks, the same patterns … again.
I’ll notice there is another path. That when the same thing happens in exactly the same way, that’s called Insane.
It’s a trap. And I have to break it. I have to board a different spaceship. No one knows which one but me. It’s mine.
And the one thing I can trust from the last little while, perhaps, the one consistent thing that can show up each day – is knowing my sanity will return to me.
So perhaps I should start calling myself by better adjectives. Because after all, I am still here.
I am me. And nothing will change the fundamentals of Me.
I’m going to tell you a story because I need to and I think I might need some sort of help, at least socially. I do too many things and right now I need to go back to showing up for nothing but me.
It’s impossible to tell anyone this in a way that doesn’t sound like High Drama; so elaborate schemes and hoaxes and dramas come into play. Weird fixations and twisty bend off’s to get out of relationship responsibilities. Eventually I actually DO get sick, but I’ll get to that.
Okay. Let’s pretend I’m a prairie animal. One that runs fast and that’s what it does. That’s its thing. It’s into running fast.
So it gets up to this CRAZY high speed of crazy crazy and then … it gets cocky. It looks to the side, as if to say “hey, fu%#*^rs! Look at me! I’m the fastest mut—“
of course, the prairie animal hits the large obvious obstacle looming in front of it. The prairie animal was bragging and looking off to the side. It wasn’t watching where it was going! It was IMPERVIOUS to circumstance!
“It’s her own fault,” say the other grassland creatures. “She prolly had her phone out. *WE* shouldn’t have to pay her medical bills! We shouldn’t have to listen to her whine.”
So, broken and bleeding, the creature slithers into a hole behind a bush behind a rock to heal and hide and think about how stupid she is. Alone. With nobody else. Preferring to be by herself. La, la, la.
And at the beginning, it’s pretty bad, because the crash HURTS… but it’s one of those sorts of things where you fall in public and it’s embarrassing and you’ve had the wind knocked out and your nose is bleeding. You obviously need assistance but all you can think to say is “nope! I’m cool!” as you scream angry tears inside because it’s better to walk calmly away leaving all your dental work on the ground than sit there looking like a lame dope.
So the prairie animal is mostly embarrassed and claws deeply into sick shame alone for a while. This
suits everyone with half a brain just fine – no one needs such complications cluttering up their sunbathing time! But eventually after some solitude in the dark hole, she starts to trust. Others. This goes poorly sometimes because there’s no manual for who gives a flying rat’s bum; but it’s a necessary part of navigating out of the thornbush at the front of the deep pit.
Mostly, she trusts herself. Soon she is peeking out from behind the rock. She looks at other creatures and thinks gah! I could never be that fast again … But she sneaks out when no one is looking. She figures out through trial and error who to trust to guide her through the motions of life now that she’s relearned how to brush her teeth stumps and to un-knot her fur. It’s usually turtles, clouds, flowers, rain. The quiet thinkers who are not living furtive lives lurching toward their own dead ends. Or maybe they have and that’s why they get it – so they are gentle and they make time.
For this she is grateful.
So she learns to stop bragging. She stops running other people’s races.
And at some point, she goes onto the prairie and begins a slow jog. Carefully looking ahead.
If only she can remember to keep her eye on the prize. If she can just remember not to get cocky.
oh good gravy………..
1. well it is just a HIDEOUS day. There is really no point in trying to pretend anymore that the delicate house of cards hasn’t fallen apart and that my life isn’t based on hedonism and lies. /drama
2. The Travelling Minstrels of Death and Despair are back in Hotel Luna creating Havoc and I have a HUGE-O list of REAL things to do. I cannot cry over spilled silliness, such as the fact that I am getting old and shall most likely never be in a touring rock band or live by the sea. Instead of weeping or eating banana pudding ice cream and Nutella and magic shell, I should probably practice.
3. I did actually practice. I sound bad ass. Also I’m going to blog another poem today WITH a cool photo in G+ so the Minstrels messing up my girl groove can heartily suck bad eggo.
4. Hedonism. I’m addicted to lots of things that are bad for me and my skin and have made me large and bloated and gurgly and oily and pock-marked. I am sexy like elderly oh-possum. Yep. Work it. No, no photographs please.
5. I’m meant to be out in public amongst humans soon looking faintly nice. I fear for that possibility, that I will not do this well.
6. All I need is one disappointment right now to do me in, so I’m systematically and mercilessly cutting all unreliable and upsetting things permanently out of my life right now because I can’t deal. I feel like I’m entitled to do this. I get to take lots of time to do as I like.
7. I had a really hard YEAR like I’m having a hard day today. This is one of those situations where you isolate because you don’t want to get into your problems but you REALLY shouldn’t isolate. So I’m saying I’m not okay, which is scary. I’ve been through crazytown.
But I’m going to be okay. I asked for help, and sometimes that’s all you need to do. You need to figure out when to crawl out of your pit.
1. I’m getting to that point where I have to force myself to blog because I feel boring and idiotic and like I have nothing to say. Pity Parties are not constructive and you have to run screaming from anything that makes you feel that kind of negativity about yourself.
2. I have ruined myself with nasty self-talk before and it is debilitating and will throw you right into a depression that you have to claw your way out of. it’s not pretty.
3. I made a broody, enigmatic picture of myself being reflective and serious. It fed my moody need to be Dramatic and Cool and now I’m over myself and can make art.
4. Unfortunately, I had a big fat fail today, which I already complained (sort of) about on Twitter.I was going to record Invisible Girl which is a song I wrote for Spintunes 1 Round 1; in honor of Spintunes 7.
I didn’t get to do this because of battery failure. That’s my own fault. I felt really awful and like the universe was conspiring against me. It was then that I really had to sit down and take a look at where I’d come from and where I planned to go. It’s really time to sit down with a list of things to do and do the things on it. It’s not supposed to be this big a deal, but I suppose the more I brow beat the less loved I feel so I am going to have a cookie or something.
5. I think it’s gonna be okay though, because my brother and my niece and nephew and sister in law are coming and if anything can put a little perspective back in your life it’s family time and birthdays. And cookies or pie or something Nice.
7. By the way, I kick ass because that’s my free Theremin shirt.
8. Number Seven is dedicated to classiness and restraint. In honor of my personal diary, which is red, black, bleedy, and covered in Large Words that Say Big Things of Great Import and will be let out in Appropriate Form in Due Time.
Next will be a poem.
Have a nice day
ps. I don’t know why this published a previous version of the blog. I forgot half the editty-bits. Yeep!
I often say that I am all over the Internet like a bad rash. This is because I am kind of s’nasty. I like to write though, and get up to No Good.
Ironically, I am tired of blogging, social media, the Internet, controversy, Uniqueness, Modernity, Retrophilia, and … just EVERYTHINGAAaaaaaaAAAAAGHGHGH!!!
I have created, to put it mildly, a SILLY amount of content in the past couple of years. I’m not talking about Official Content of a Professional Capacity. No, I’ve mostly just been working my ass off for myself and You – here to amuse and delight. Up until Radicchio in the morning trying to survive on this Amusing little bit of fun y’all call a planet.
To think of organizing this content is dizzying. To think of subjecting you folks to lists of what I’m going to do about it is nauseating. To analyze the sunniness of my tone as I ponder the NON-effectiveness of whining about my goals AGAIN makes my brain feel like butt candy. I don’t know what butt candy is, but it doesn’t sound very nice. Already, this blog is so terribly FLARG. But I have established a bit of Flow here in the form of a couple paragraphs…And it’s not in a list. So Splickets to you!
Anyway, all I know is that there is a lot in my head, and that’s the way the cookie gathers moss, my goblin friends. I know that I need quiet, and that it’s time to cut the distractions. I know that you have never heard this newsflasky, dizzying information from me before; that I know YOU know that I know that it’s time to start saying no. no, no no; no no no. (I said a)No, no, no no. no; no- na-no. (like in a successful commercial). None of this has anything to do with the price of bronzed monkey poo (#relevance!) at a bustling border town; but this is how Great Novels are Written.
So, what do you do when your blog is just not that into your silly ass? What do you do when you don’t FEEL like it?
Before, I have always done stuff like publish photos of my feet and Unidentified Flying Ceiling Fans. Then amidst these cunning distractions, I will place my Deep and Personal thoughts – hoping they go both expressed and unnoticed. Hoping I can be both validated and largely ignored. Really crossing my fingers that somehow I shall increase in social popularity without the need to reveal a shred of personal or actual information about myself. I think I’m living in a dream and I know I don’t want to wake up.
I erase half the things I would say now, just because I fear they are constantly being observed. Either that, or I have a cerebral salt shaker filled with hearty disclaimers. mmmmmm, delicious.
Why am I feeling so Mosquitolesquey? So acerbic and raw? It’s probably because I have been having the same identity crisis all over your nice upholstery for the past few years. I keep apologizing for this, but I don’t know why I am apologizing for weird and awkward behavior to The World At Large. How much am I really fouling up the room compared to the Elephant in it, making its messes?
There’s so much stuff I’ve learned! I’m dangerous now! We’re not meant to do this, not meant to do that. Spelling, grammar, metaphors, length, color, line, definition. Think first. No, get out there and make content. I’m real confused.
I have lived in my head all my life. I have kept myself free from a lot of cultural influence. A lot of the things that fly out of my mouth came from my actual brain. I am far, far from encyclopedic. This is because when I was meant to be paying attention to the work of other people, I was narcissistically making my own.
I like myself better. I trust myself more. I can rely upon myself to be interested in Me. I know that when I am dead, I will not care who my audience is. Someone else will have to manage those things. I am my audience now, and I have to live with what I make. If I do not thrill and amuse myself, I have to look inside my own brain when I fall asleep at night. It is I who have to interact with the characters and people that populate my world. And only I will remember who and what I want (most likely). And if I don’t get what I want in my real life, I can when I am writing, or sleeping, or refusing to pay attention to what IS so much that I make what CAN BE.
Perhaps, art is a delusion. A happy delusion. My sweet escape.
It is folly, probably, to distance myself from my audience in this way. I have been doing this with my music. I know I do it. This is why I have my side projects where I try more to do what I’m told. Because with my own music I’m throwing myself at my tools and I might make choices for my own reasons and I am thinking about the character and the story and what I wanted to say. I’m trying to make a Thing live. I’m not in a state of mind where I care about You-the-Consumer. You’ve got a world full of ready-made stuff to look at. I’m probably not going to interest you.
This is going to get me about 8 fans. This is going to make me zilch money. I am lucky I am getting better at cleaning the house (this is a lie. I am horrible at this but my baking improves!). I need to rethink the whole “no ads” thing. I don’t know. I don’t want to pour a nice refreshing Pepsi on my soul either…..
I have a lot to think about. Sifting through my brain is going to be like an octopus trying to put on socks, I imagine. I have a lot of personal decisions to make…
But I’m getting there. Messily, scandalously, perhaps even… but gettin’ there nonetheless …
I really am not trying to grow up to be a curmudgeon…
HAPPY NEW YEAR! It’s that time of year again, so here are some fun facts about Denise New Year! I hope you are having a good one, and having a good Monday during this special holiday sneezon!
1. October 1 is the Day of Denise New Year and April 1 is SuspiciousDen’s birthday! So they are 6 months apart! I tend to behave more foolishly in the Warmer Months so my Silly Self takes over. You know, or not
2. On every DNY, a major revelation is revealed. #mysssstery!!
3. I make 5 resolutions every year now on this day.
4. It’s cold in my living room.
5. We’re going out to dinner.
6. I’m so pleased at how much progress I’ve made in the last 12 months, personally. I couldn’t have done it without a couple of key people. They know who they are and they always show up for me.
7. I’ve been lying low lately.
8. Tomorrow I am going to the doctor. I will have more to say about that soon. I’ve needed to talk about that stuff, and get on with this business of my life for a long time. I will do what needs to be done, whatever they say. I have no idea what’s going on with me, truthfully, so I’ve been hanging out and laying low.
1. I have been selected to participotato in a not really all that secret Thing. It’s like a compilation album. I am sure that my friend Brigitte London, a musician of the Outlaw Country persuasion, selected me because of my cleverness and ninja abilities, and not because of my glittering resume (even though I’m kinda-shiny-sometimes-aly). Nonetheless, I will endeavor to send them a somewhat bitchin’ track (this will be easy because I have been in song contests and especially songfighting – and My New Peers have been growling and insulting my work on a weekly basis so I am not worried about crumbling under professional scrutiny). It has just been a matter of which track. I have asked a few people, not too many, and have narrowed it down and (most likely) chosen one.
2. I am a little worried about my bio, although I sent it to my bud Jules and she said I look fine and gave me helpful hints. I will probably not tell dirty jokes in the bio, for example or mention @suspiciousden’s Dailybooth … so Jules is a good person to ask about these things because she knows how to bottle the creepy factor when need be (I’m sure she is enjoying this blog) … As far as where on earth these extremely well organized and professional people are going to be able to find me on the interwebs, since I am all over it like a bad rash, I may whine a little more:
3. Go to http://www.denisehudson.com. Go ahead. There’s nothing there, is there? Well, that’s pretty sad, isn’t it. This is because I have the internet aptitude of a three year old. This is why you are currently reading this poorly designed wordpress content here and not in a zippier, sexy location of my choosing – with mood lighting and incense and dancing boys and chocolate and internet squirrels bringing you virtual Courvoisier.
But I am going to attempt to rectify this situation like RIGHT NOW since I own the place, meaning my name. I refused to Sell to Worthier Denise-s, no indeed – not at Any Price. But sadly, I know NADA-NADA-Enchaladda about such things.
4. But I can do it because I have many, many brain cells. Together they make AN ENTIRE BRAIN. So guess what goblins… I’m going to USE that brain to MAKE WEB HISTORY. And just LOOK OUT!!! Blogathon is NEXT MONTH! You know it!
5. However, I will probably be whining a LOT because we are also MOVING houses during this time when I suddenly have to make it seem like I have been an active member of the music community and not like I have just been sitting on my tuckus producing content.
6. Yes, I know I can use a Psychotics track for this compilation. Duh…..I should have gone as a Psychotic for Nur Ein, and for Halloween. We all know this. Flarg. This is HIGH on my list of consideration, seeing as this is my most Awesomeist of material and will Blend Best. Stay Tuna-ed.
I can’t even think anymore and there is pizza to be had. I will probably make and exciting google plus list later, and stalk the rest of the Honeys maniacally across the internet, becoming ever more intimidated with each passing click. I know that this is not The Point of camaraderie and fellowship and internet collaboration and that living in a tiny cave practicing my scales should come to an end. This will be good for me. I am an Upwardly Mobile Producer of Content and Country Musicians everywhere want me to go to their Barn Dances even though I came from the planet of Xondor. Yee-haw, y’all.