The Divas of the Blogosphere

On the right (your right-- the computer monitor's left) of this blog you'll see some links. Among them is a list titled Fellow Divas' Blogs.

I belong to a writing group called Romance Divas-- fantastic forum, great advice, good resource for romance writers or those aspiring to be. The links are a comprehensive list of other members' blogs.

Recently, at a ridiculous hour of the morning, I actually clicked every link in the list. I discovered three things:

1. The sleeping pill Ahmed gave me is just silly.

2. When I'm blocked I'm... seriously, here... FREAKING BLOCKED.

3. The divas are a butt kicking group of women and their blogs are fascinating.

Next time you get bored or need inspiration... or just want to know what blogs done right look like... check a few links.

Rock on ma' pink-puckered sistas!

Commitment-Phobia in the Computer Age

I've always been commitment-phobic. So is Ahmed; so in a sense we were made for eachother. Our fear of committing lit a fire under both of us so that we were each so busy trying to get the other to fall in love we didn't notice we were falling ourselves. It was kind of a simultaneous catharsis.

Anyway, this phobia has been holding me back in other areas. There is a long standing relationship in my life that I need to end. It's time to move on, and I can't seem to do it. (Let's keep our voices down... he'll hear us.)

It's just that-- well, he's been very good to me. So much written on this keyboard: books; poetry; drafts that will never be sent, but sit in the folder in My Briefcase; the beginnings of things unfinished.

This old guy witnessed the birth of a romance. Emails teasing and flirting between myself and "that weird guy." Emails tappity-tapped off to friends hinting at a desire to be talked into dating the "weird guy." Agreements reached. Plans made. Progressive headings: The Weird Guy @ B&N Wed! ; The Weird Guy is HOT! ; I Think I'm in LOVE.

Journals, graphics, old websites with expired domains.

Memories.

Of course, it's the Age of Information. It's all portable. But being a writer and an artist I tend to think of all things as living, even if they have no pulse. So I hesitate. How can I just leave him after all we've been through?

My birthday was in May, and Ahmed bought me a new computer. Actually, Ahmed took me out to shop for a new computer. I did shop. We agreed to "build one online" that would be my dream computer in stead.

I still don't have my new computer, because I can't say goodbye to the old one. I pick all the bells and whistles I want, and get ready to assemble, to hit SEND with Aji's credit card information all neat and tight. But I can't seem to do it.

It doesn't seem right that I can buy a keychain with more memory than my desktop. It doesn't seem right that new computers come with media reading stations that will accept any card from any digital device but some newer models only install floppy drives for nostalgic purposes-- sort of like the retro turntable music in stereos. It's all-- too much change.

I need a new computer. There. I said it. I typed it right on his tired old keyboard. To be honest, I think he's known all along.

It will be a gentle retirement. He will be moved to another area of the house, where he can entertain children with games, connect occasionally for a few quick tasks, and watch the sunrises from the bay windows. But he's a workaholic. It will be hard for him to change. It will be hard... for both of us.

I'll always love him. I think he knows it. But 45tyhnmw69io#$%^&*()789erwdrsgfkmx6578

.......
WARNING!
You have run out of memory for this task. Shut down any inactive programs or hit Control Alt Delete to reboot your system.
Strike any key to continue.
.......

GAHHHHHHH!

I need a new computer.

Hats

My mom used to put hats on me a lot when I was a little kid. She also had a penchant for sailor suits.

I hated them.

These days I'm back in hats. Since my numerous illnesses have thinned my once respectable head of hair, I had to cut it temporarily short. The meds I'm taking are causing it to thin quite significantly (again). The interesting thing about it is that I'm busily writing romance these days and only recently noticed how much romantic fiction focuses on hair.

I've written about hair in the past. One column directly addressed female hair loss
(view it here). I wrote about any number of body image issues for Ladybug Flights over the years. (Feel free to visit the archives.)


It's interesting to realize that romance really is very much about fantasy, even at its most honest and realistic. This doesn't make romance a dishonest art form. For me, it makes the genre more akin to poetry and visual art. We see love, beauty, and emotion in an ideal form. We celebrate romance by elevating its finest qualities and exalting them for pleasure and reflection.

Still... I may do a short story about a woman who struggles with hair issues. So many of us do. The great thing about being a fiction writer is we can honor real struggles with characters we come to love, and then give them happy endings.

Goddammit Christine

It is a little known fact outside of my family that my actual, full, given name is not Chrissy or Christine, but Goddammit Christine. It was given to me by my father. Most people just call me Chrissy (when I was younger it was Olie or something else unpublishable). Papa, however, often lapses into formality.

So it really shouldn't have been a great surprise to hear my 2 year old nephew use my given name. He hears it all the time.

Liam says it differently than my dad, who puts the emphasis in interesting places. The accent is correctly spoken on the DAM and the TINE, thusly:

GodDAMit ChrisTINE

Wouldn't you know the little beast has every enunciated syllable down pat?

I don't mind, really. A little formality within the family is just fine. I won't say I prefer the given name, mind you. When he calls me by my more oft used nome de bon he pronounces it less successfully with delightful results. How does one deny a little aquamarine eyed tyke popsicles, fruit roll-ups, and trust fund increases when he says "Kweesie canihavit? Kweesie wantthat."

Right. Red popsicles and goldfish crackers coming right up!

At which point, of course, one of the more responsible adults in the vicinity calls me by my "given" name.

New Site for Web Templates

For those who have been supportive of my web template addiction, update your bookmarks.

Ken Soprazzi has been kind enough to give me some web space and a nice domain for my designs in exchange for work that I would have given him free (and he knows it). Special thanks to Ken. :)

Effective just this very second my web templates will be at:



Lots of cool freebies. I am JUST learning CSS and will be working hard to create a few simple blog templates, as well. Gimme time.

Support Ron

Ron Rakos is running the Iron Man competition this September on behalf of Pulmonary Fibrosis sufferers. There are not many fund raisers for this disease, since it's rare and not widely known.

Suppport Ron, who has raised nearly 5 grand for the cause, by visiting the link below and contributing:

http://www.active.com/donate/imwisconsin/rakos

Gifts from Afar

My darling-in-law Khalid travels. He makes his home in England, but makes the rounds to just about everywhere, and has the delightful habit of sending me gifts from his most recent sojourn.

As most people who read my work or know me are aware, I am a cameo collector. The word "collector" is really misleading, to be honest. My passion for carved shell cameos is a bit of an obsession. I adore them. They often make me weep. eBay is making a killing on me, and I'm not complaining.

Anyway... dear Khalid sent me the most gorgeous pair of cameo earrings set in heavy twisted silver. The ladies are in perfect mirrored profile. They are weighty enough to drag down my slightly curved up earlobes (which thrills me) and are a touching gift from a touching man.

He's very lucky to be married to a wonderful woman, otherwise he'd never be able to walk the streets unmolested, this guy. His son didn't get it from the wind.

Thanks, Khaji-babu! You are the best.

He'll Be the FIRST

Some conversations transcend sanity by the third or fourth word. Case in point...

"Will you make me a blog?"

I was busily digging through my little leather bound bible looking for a vague reference to Jonathan (found it, by the way). I may have grunted in a manner that indicated mild curiosity.

"Hon?"

"Mmmph?"

"Will you make me a blog?"

I looked up. Ahmed has these astonishing eyes. He's got a great body; everything hangs from his shoulders like it's just been pressed. But his eyes grab you first. They're neither brown nor hazel. They are hammered brass, a brilliant amber that never ceases to take my breath away. If I'd never had visions of romance novels in my head prior to Aji, I am saturated with them in the age of Ajism. (Please, no gamey emails about puns.)

"Why do you want a blog?"

I'll give him this: he had the good grace to squirm.

"I just want one. Can you set it up and make it look cool and then I'll take over?"

How can a mature man (chronologically, anyway) with so much education sound so much like a 13 year old whining for a new skateboard?

"You're a busy man, babe, where will you find the time?"

"I just will."

"What brought this on?"

More squirming. Examination of fingernails. Nicely formed buttock propped on the edge of his desk. Long leg dangling in a suspiciously casual swing.

Right. He's got an ulterior motive.

"Spill it."

"Well... what did that shirt mean, the one you thought was so funny?"

Now I'm swimming through recent memory with a face so twisted with perplexity I look like a botox poster child. What the hell is he---- OOOOOOOOH!

"Do you mean," I ask slowly, "the one that said 'you're cute, wanna link blogs?'"

He's only got 10 fingernails. There can't possibly be anything that interesting beneath them. I decide to let the silence drag on.

It drags on.

"I want to be the first guy who links to you."

The eyes hook you, but the grin-- oh, man-- that boyish, goofy grin delivers the knockout punch.

So anyway I'm thinking about letting this really sweet guy link to me...

Great Resource for Bloggers

If you are using Blogger, but struggle with making it do what you want, I have great news. Elizabeth Castro has published a terrific, and modestly priced, book for beginners that walks one through the process of setting up, editing, and more.

Publishing a Blog with Blogger

As a strictly-Dreamweaver gal for a very long time, the code for blogging was scaring the living crap out of me. Castro's book makes it pretty straightforward and simple to edit what you have. I used the tutorials to alter the appearance of this blog and I'm no longer terrified to touch the code within the template editor.

Support a Diva in Need-- Ebay Auctions for Marianne

Marianne is a lovely woman who had some tragedy in her life and needs help. You can read about her terrible loss through fire on the Romance Divas Forum. More importantly, you can bid on some great stuff on ebay to help her out:

Marianne Fire Fund Auctions

Dig deep, bid aggressively, and sleep really well. :)

New Templates Added

New web templates were added today, including a gardenia theme, a patriotic theme, and a brick red techno template that I think the guys will like.

Special thanks to all the marines who offered to deliver kisses in response to "freedom." You guys are a hoot-- or should I say hoohah?

Enjoy.

Blog Nerds of the World, LINK!

So I'm wandering through Cambridge with my beloved and we spot one of those kiosk carts that never seem to be around for more than 3 days, because they are connected through a secret system of wormholes (or something like that). Anyway, this one was covered in BLOG stuff, so naturally I dragged poor Aji over.

Fellow bloggers... we have ARRIVED!

They had bumper stickers that said "I am sooo going to blog this" and T-shirts that said "BLOG NERD," "Hi, you're cute, wanna link blogs?" and "My Blog is Way Cooler than Your Blog."

It actually brought me to the surprising, yet warm conclusion, that people are tired of keeping it to themselves. We all want to be heard. It's nice to think that the diary is coming back. Email may not have done much for grammar or punctuation, but it DID get people interested in communicating on the written page once more. Blogging may not be top quality journalism or even good essay writing in all instances, but there is certainly some of both coming out of the blogosphere. And let's face it, good quality journalism is in rare supply in even the most read newspapers. The New York Times comes to mind. (Somebody call Bill O'Reilly!) Decent essays have fewer markets every year.

As for me and mine, we shall blog. We shall blog fiercely and passionately! Forward, into the blogosphere, my friends, and let us fill up the bandwidth with our thoughts and musings.

Or something like that. I think I read it on a t-shirt.

New Web Templates... FREE!

Effective immediately I have three new web templates available for public use on my site. Visit:

http://www.christineolinger.com/webtemplates.htm

They are clean, simple, and would work very well for a blog, but for the love of all that's holy don't email me looking for code help.

Ain't happenin'. ;)

Ebay Indignities and Rebekah's Well

If you are ever bored, and feel like a chuckle, try something for me.

I've been collecting cameos for years now. One of the most common, popular, and lovely themes is Rebekah at the Well, a story from the bible. Briefly, Abraham wanted a wife for his son who was not of his own clan, so he sent a servant to a different area to look for a wife. The servant and his 10 camels hung out at the town well, where women gathered water once a day, figuring a good judge of feminine character would be whether the lady in question would get both him and his camels a drink. Becky passed the test.

In any event, this bible story is a common cameo theme. Generally there is a woman (absurdly clothed in Victorian dress), a building that would be over the well, and sometimes a bridge or some trees. In rare instances a camel or some donkeys will be in the foreground, perhaps even the servant.

To find these cameos on ebay one would type in cameo, well, rebekah, rebeckah, or similar, correct?

Usually I find them under completely different listings. Very few people who have a Rebekah at the Well to sell know what it is. The fun starts when I type in the usual "hits" and read the descriptions.

Poor Becky! She's been misidentified in some hysterical ways. To name a few:

woman beside outhouse

chicago fire (this one had the much coveted camel, mistaken for the famous cow that started the fire... trees were mistaken for flames)

granny by the woodshed

japanese lady

old woman in nightgown near house


You get the idea. It isn't bad enough that poor Rebekah, whom we are told in scripture wore a lovely gold nose ring and carried her jar on her shoulder, is shoved into petticoats and stays. No, she has to linger through eternity, immortalized in shell, by outhouses, woodsheds, and pagodai.

Next time you get very bored, log on to ebay and type a search for "cameo scene" or "cameo scenic."

Enjoy the chuckles and be sure to share the results!

Oh Well (Call for Research)

I'm working on a collection of poetry that will involve a central them of wells and cisterns in scripture and myth, expanded to include significant women. I have all the biblical references (seriously... ALL of them).

I'm interested in hearing from readers if they can bring to mind any lists of wells and cisterns in history, myth, and legend. Send em to me!

Systemic Enzyme Therapies

I've had some private emails from people asking about systemic enzyme therapies.

Pulmonary Fibrosis literally means lung (pulmonary) scarring (fibrosis). The lung scarring occurs in the tissue of the lung called the interstitium, which supports the structures of the lung (air sacs/alveoli). Lung tissue thickens and becomes stiff, and scarring inhibits oxygen from entering the blood stream.

New research indicates that systemic enzymes, which can be taken in supplements such as Neprinol, Wobenzym, and Vitalzym, work at destroying the scarring from within. Systemic Enzymes are being touted as a cure-all for everything from psoriasis to arthritis and, yes, pulmonary fibrosis.

One of the issues with this current trend is, as with all non-traditional treatments of incurable diseases, cost. Whether the research is junk science and quackery or valid scientific advancement, the supplement companies are making-- pardon the pun-- a killing. 150 tablets of Neprinol go for about $100.00. Even ebay has not been showing particularly low prices. These are not supplements covered by insurance.

The information is here. I am considering taking one of these supplements myself but want to do more research and, hopefully, find a less expensive supplier than those readily available online.

Dismal Saturday Coming Down

Hottest day so far in a long string of miserably hot days and the sky looks like it would just KILL to rain.

I always say "it smells like rain" on days like this... usually before I think to stop myself. Because this generally causes people to look at me funny. But it's true, you can smell rain coming, particularly if it's a heavy system moving in from the west. There is a mild tang of sulfur in the air-- lightening wanting to break loose. There is a wetness in the breathing in, a soft edge that tastes of damp ground in the nose and throat.

If you sit on the harbor you can watch it move toward you. Storms follow the river, sit with the tide, and go out when it does. Sometimes they come back in with it, too. There's something elementally amazing about watching a storm follow the line of the river banks, coming at you with what seems like deliberation. There's no malice in it, but you don't matter. Mother nature has a path and nothing in it is of consequence but the passing.

I may go watch. There is a metaphor here worth exploring.

Wings Inside

© Christine Olinger

There they are again,
those wings, inside,
trying to break out.

A fluttering,
a muffled slap
in panicked rhythm.

Something needs to rise.
Something brave,
wild, insatiably free.

Beating
beating
beating.

And the feathers
brush the tether
of my soul.

Curses, Foiled Again

Well, our soul-soothing trip to Maine was called due to medical intrusion. My treatment team said "no."

That being the case I decided to buy Hoobstank's new CD and listen to "The Reason" on repeat for nearly an hour. That was fun. I bought some DVDs and took another hour opening them. Which led me to a theory...

I think the recording industry is being punished by the Almighty for their CD packaging. Millions of us download illegal music every day. While destroying my fingernails this afternoon I discovered the reason for this is pure frustration and payback. It's one thing to get soaked for 15 bucks for a CD or DVD we only want for one song or a few viewings. It's another to pay for the damned thing and break your fingers trying to remove it from the ridiculously over-compensating package. If we wanted to steal it we could do it on our computers!

And those TABS... the ones that say "open here" or "pull here" or some other such imaginary fairy tale of a helpful hint. Why are they the one spot on the CD/DVD that is least likely to disadhere from the crappy plastic cover? Every DVD in my collection has a mangled bit on the crappy plastic cover. Every CD case is cracked.

I figure RCA and Time/Warner alone owe me about 2 lifetimes of music and movies as compensation for extraction-damaged products and manicure repair.

I really needed to go to Maine this weekend.

Curses, foiled again!

Into the Woods

This weekend Ahmed and I will flee to the woods of Oakland, Maine and the healing waters of Lake Messalonsky. The pugs will join our luggage in the back of the Escalade and off we go.
Max Jeeves

I don't know WHY the waters of Lake Messalonsky seem to heal my soul. It's nothing mineral. They seem pretty normal as waters go. But the vacation home we visit there, on the edges of this nondescript lake in Maine like a thousand others, somehow serve as a balm.

Off we go, then. For those attending Friday's weekly pug chat (http://www.pugchat.org), we will miss you. Enjoy!

See you next week.

First Words

A recent diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis (which rhymes, but never mind) has sent my world spinning.

I thought cancer was the hardest thing I would ever face. Imagine my shock. I find myself missing simple things like another round of chemo.

There's no cure. Most people live 4 to 5 years. I am told I am very lucky that the diagnosis was caught early. I will probably get 10 years.

I turned 40 in May. 10 years could be great. I wish I knew how to feel about them... they suddenly seem to be spinning away out from under me into the place that time goes when we've spent it.