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Good habits die easy.

I need to write here more. It's not even like I don't like to or anything or don't have anything to say. I've been gearing up for a review of Daria, some anime, and a post or two about the comics I've been reading. Hell, I might even throw in a Bad Movie Monday if I'm feeling really frisky.

So why haven't I? I'm not sure. And what to do about it? Also not sure.

Since meeting with my cousin last week, I've been putting more of my writerly efforts towards a piece she asked me to write (it's going pretty well; I should really post about it on the other blog...). But even before then, I feel I was starting to lapse.

The broken hand didn't do the habit any favors, that's for sure. But it's miles better now--like, it doesn't hurt to write this.

I think it's really as un-blame-able as unpicking the habit, a combination of several things' eroding the urge and inspiration. How frustrating. Grr.

How am I going to attract an audience, nevermind a potential publisher's/editor's attention, if I barely even post once a week?

So how can I get myself to blog more (again). I guess I could do more to post from my's easy, to say the least.... Despite its convenience, there are certain drawbacks--purely personal OCD type things. Like not being able to format style things (e.g., italics) or tag the posts or set a time for it to publish.

Sigh. I think--ultimately, though, and regardless of how--the best course is to just blog. And blog lots. Even if it's a gradual process, I should be able to rebuild my old momentum.

It might be good to focus on short(er) bursts so it's less daunting to do each post, and so it's easier to organize/structure the things into some semblance of coherence, too. That'd be good, both results.

So, get over my laziness. Check. Most easily accomplished by rekindling my blogging addiction. Check. Do it. Check....?

We'll see, I guess. I've got another post I'm gonna schedule for later today in commemoration of April, my most hated month. Sorry, y'all April-born, it's nothing personal. Meanwhile, I should do stuff or stuff.


Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo.
In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.  (Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide.)

The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous flowers herse…

Losing Doolittle.

I recently got to spend a few days at the lake house my family used to visit through most of my childhood; we no longer own it, and it turns out I missed it more deeply than I realized.

Anthony and I both got the week before NYC Pride off this year, so I contrived to get us a little time there. The cousins who own Greenshore gave Anthony and me permission to relax there for several days rather than just the 1 or 2 I had expected. Good god, I'm grateful for that.

I missed this place. Standing on the balcony, the porch, or the dock and looking out over the lake, I was reminded of the beauty and tranquility this lake represents for me. The meaning and memories, too.

This was always a place of solace and stability for me. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but we always came back to this place. It had been in our family for generations before I was even born—if we'd been able to keep it, it would have been a solid 4 generations including mine. This was where I figured out I w…

Sarracenia 'Palmerpink.'

So I posted the other day about my rekindled carnivorous plant obsession—I mean, hobby. I mentioned, in passing, that I had "discovered" a possible cultivar, so here's the lowdown on what that means and what I meant.

The term "cultivar" is short for "cultivated variety," and signifies that a particular plant is so desirable and interesting that people want exact copies of it rather than simply seed from it. Some famous American pitcher plant (Sarracenia) cultivars include the legendary Adrian Slack, the massive Leah Wilkerson, and the classic Judith Hindle.

Part of how these come about is that, unlike horses x donkeys = mules and certain other hybrids, Sarracenia hybrids aren't sterile and can be crossed and recrossed without limit. Further, random chance can create crazy combinations of genes such that even hybrids between the same species—heck, even the same parents—can demonstrate quite the variety. More on that elsewhere.

Depending on how easy…