Tuesday, March 31, 2009

An award for me!

Thanks Amy!

I know I'm supposed to nominate five people, but I don't think I have five readers on my new site yet...Amy, you deserve an award of your own. I admire your honesty in facing up to your past, and the strength you show in dealing with you current struggles. Thanks again!

oh, goddess!

I wish that my waking life was as exciting as my dream world.

I dreamed last night that I was dating Pink.

But rumor had it that Pink was seeing someone else, and I confronted her in the aisles at Value Village. Pink was apparently seeing the ex of the person I really wanted to be with. I didn't care that Pink was seeing her, I just wanted to know if the girl I liked and her presumed gf had split up. When I asked Pink about the situation, she gave me an enigmatic smile and kept looking through the racks of clothing.

And then I ended up in a child care centre/gallery, preparing an art installation of uncooked beef. Someone took my rib eyes and so all I had to hang was the tenderloin and two flank steaks.

So, no sex scene in this dream. Tell me, why can't I just live in the moment and enjoy it? Even in my dream life, I'm reaching too far ahead.

Monday, March 30, 2009


I should write something here. After all, I've done nothing and I have three followers.... I was going to begin by telling the story of my trip through the labyrinth, but I have ten minutes before I leave for work, so it must wait...perhaps tonight.

Small glimpses of my life:

- my copy of Poseidon and the Bitter Bug arrived via Amazon today. I can't wait to get in the car and drive to work!

-I blew all my spending money for the next month on tickets to the IG concert in Buffalo on April 20th. And Ferron comes to town on the 30th....

-I'm teaching my eldest how to play guitar. I know she'll learn fast (RCM grade 6 vocal, preliminary rudiments, grade 3 piano before she hit the eighth grade) but I'm flattered that she asked me to teach her! I never thought that playing "this Land is your land" would be so much fun...

-speaking of Megan, she's auditioning for a local production of "Tommy." While she'd like to be cast as the 'acid queen' (she tells me that Tina Turner played this role in the movie), she's still recovering from being hit by a car in November, and may not be the flashiest dancer...she can barely walk. But she can sing!

-on the other hand, Emily has more enthusiasm than talent. She's loud, I'll give her that. And if she keeps singing Hannah Montana songs I will lose my mind. She likes Amy Ray, too, but refers to her as Jamie Ray and thinks she's a boy. I showed her my T-shirt. She wasn't convinced.

-I had a conversation with her that I thought I'd be safe from for at least another five years. It went something like "No, you cannot dye your hair. You are too young." E: "But mom, K (insert name of child at day care here) dyed her hair purple. Her mom let her. I'm going to dye my hair and you can't stop me." I may be a progressive mom (Megan did all that and more in her adolescence), but I draw the line at five year olds cosmetically enhancing themselves.

Oops, it's 1:30. Gotta run!

Sunday, March 29, 2009

contemplating a change

Something's awry.

It just doesn't fit. It bugs me, even though it's a superficial little thing.

I've grown to really dislike my blogger url. I can't stand it, actually.

I updated my profile this morning. I found it a bit more fluffy than I am - somehow, after a year of searching and incredible change, the term "just coming out" doesn't seem to apply any more. After all, it's been a year. Not a year of blogging here, but a year of awareness, a year of opening, a year of coming out - slowly, gradually, in circles that started with the safest people in my life, and will soon end with my extended family.

I picked the name Arial because I was toying with the idea of using it as a magical name. Like Catholics at confirmation, pagans often pick their own magical names. The difference being that we can change our name whenever we want(or not have a magical name at all), and that it's not written somewhere in St Peter's holy book so that God can call us or whatever - because I (and some pagan beliefs may vary) believe in neither heaven or hell, nor do I believe that any guy named Peter has my name written in his book, anywhere. We use our magical names in circle, during ritual, when doing sacred work.

I've had three magical names over the course of my pagan life. I wasn't ready for the first one, it being a little more powerful than me at the time. The second one never really fit, and the women in my coven were forever calling me by the first name, thus engendering much confusion, which worsened after one of our coven sisters gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, and gave him the same name I had claimed magically.

Arial aligns with the element of air (most would write it as Ariel, but I had lost my ability to spell on the day I set up this blog). Air is the element associated with the dawn, with intellect, with breathwork, singing, talking. With visualization. I was closely connected to those things, and I always will be. Writing is air work. But every time I look at my blogger name, I uncomfortably connect it to a Little Mermaid, a Disney creation. Aside from the fact that Ariel and I both have red hair, and I like to swim, I have no desire to be anything like a Disney mermaid. The "Ray" part seemed to fit - a ray of sunlight reflected on the water, or so I thought at the time. Except that I didn't have much sunlight in my life, and there was nothing really light and fluffy about what was happening for me at the time. Still isn't. I have my moments of lightness, but I will never be fluffy.

Last Imbolc (February 2, also known as Candlemas, or Groundhog Day) I chose a new name. A name that fit, a name that I didn't need to grow into, a name that was just - right.

Here I must give my sister credit. The name was her suggestion. She suggested a gaelic word that meant "crooked river." I liked the sound of the name, very gender-neutral, and I liked the idea of a crooked line - yeah, I know - why is it that everything in my world somehow relates to the Indigo Girls? I love old rivers, how they turn in upon themselves, how they undulate like snakes across the land, carving valleys and channels into the landscape that they cross. Over time the river shapes the land so that each is indelibly linked with the other. The town I was raised in sits at the bottom of a deep river valley. I like how water and earth connect on a riverbank, how they are both linked with the element of air. I am very earthy these days, grounded, sure of myself and the world I am creating.

But crooked also means "not straight, " and when I looked up the etymology of the word, I learned that the first syllable of the name I chose actually means "gay" in Irish Gaelic. How cool is that?


That's who I am. And while there may be any number of Butterflies or Cedars or Grasshoppers at your local witchcamp (my apologies to those people who've taken those names, they are beautiful, but there can be some confusion when it comes to identity sometimes). I wanted a name that no one else was likely to have, a name with a deeply personal meaning, a name that resonated with all I am, and filled with the potential for who I may become.

Yesterday at ritual, my coven walked a local labyrinth. As I walked, I began to shed the things I no longer needed. I set intentions for the year, what I want to sow, what I want to harvest at year's end. And somewhere in the middle of the labyrinth I became Camlin.

This morning I staked out a new blogger url. I don't expect that what I write will be much different than what I write here, but it feels like I belong there, somehow. This blog will stay up - but I hope that when I start posting over at the new site that you will join me there. All the comments that I leave will be signed as "anna" so as to avoid further confusion. Many of you know me well enough to recognize my given name.

I'd start now, but I need to walk the dog while it's not raining. And before Emily comes home.

I hope everyone is enjoying their Sunday.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

On A Roll

It's almost noon. This morning I slept late, tumbled out of bed with curls askew and raced the dog to the groomer for his 8:30 appointment, only ten minutes late.

I walked from the groomer's to my local coffee franchise (read: Tim Horton's, not the quiet place with the fair trade coffee in reusable cups). For some strange reason I work better when there's noise around me, perhaps the outer noise helps me turn inwards.

I captured the bones of two short stories while I was there. I wrote for an hour, came home and wrote for two more.

The house is a mess. I am wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday. I need to take a shower and I'm supposed to go back and pick the dog up in half an hour.

I don't care.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

cooking something up

I'm leaving in a few minutes to attend a family function.

Over the last few days I've been working on a solution to a long-standing problem. How do I, as a writer, overcome my isolation, and find community and feedback. Open minded, non-judgemental, community and feedback?

For a few weeks, I thought that someone else had solved the problem. But it didn't work out as expected.

I realize that this entry is very cryptic and vague. My mind is in a thousand different places at once and Emily, being Emily, is asking me as many questions as I have answers for. While I write.

When I've more or less figured things out, I'll try to post something coherent.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Friday the 13th

Short and sweet (well, as sweet as I can be right now)

1. My work hours were cut from 40 to 20. Somehow this doesn't work for me.

Only until July, if I can hang on that long.

2. I received 5 phone calls from my doctor's office in a 2 hour time span (I checked my calls much later), when they finally gave up and called my ex. He gave them my work number, and they "strongly advised" me to go directly to the hospital.


My hemoglobin level was 69. Normal is 110. Apparently I'm severely anemic. I had no idea. People kept asking me if I was feeling okay and I kept saying "I'm fine, I'm fine." And I have been...or so I thought.

No wonder I've felt so tired lately. I was blaming my crazy work hours. I'm starting to ask myself what normal is, and if I'll ever get there.

I had a transfusion, and spent 12 hours in hospital - all of that time was in emerg. No sleep. I though I was tired before then....so my Saturday passed in a bit of a haze. My hemoglobin was up to 90 when I left, which is still below normal.

The doctor on call at my clinic called me Saturday afternoon to find out how I was doing. This NEVER happens. I must be really sick.

Which is funny, when I think about it because I don't feel unwell. Just tired.

I was in room 13 at emerg. No kidding.

3. My ex's company is laying off. We are waiting and seeing. If we are both out of work at the same time, it will not be pretty. If he keeps his job, we will be able to swing the cut in hours...I'm tied to that centre because Emily is enrolled there, and another change would really not be good right now. And I really like my job. That being said, if I have to get another job, then I will. If I can.

At work on Friday the kindergarten age children were conducting surveys among the staff and kids. They wrote everyone's name down on a piece of paper and asked what our lucky numbers were.

Mine? 13.

Well, it could be worse. I still have a job.

And I can work on getting well again, now that I know there's something wrong.

I apologize for not being around too much lately. I've been reading when I can and haven't had a lot of time to comment. Between moving and unpacking and feeling like all I want to do is sleep, I've let a few things slide...hopefully in a few weeks, things will be back to normal.

And, hey, I'll have a lot more time for blogging! That must be good.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

I'm back!

More or less.

The move went well....we're here, unpacked, somewhat settled.

I'm still trying to convince the dog that the tie-out chain is not evil. He's used to having a tiny fenced yard to run around in. The end result has been a few accidents in the house, and growing frustration on my part. When I open the patio door and put his chain on, he runs inside. And then I put him outside. And then he stands at the door, staring in, with a perpetually confused look on his face while he doesn't do his business. I leave for work, he heads for the basement - and as soon as I get home, find his mess and say (in my stern pet-owner voice) "What's this?" he hides from me because he knows he's made a mistake. Often I walk him before work - this works well - but sometimes his walk comes after work.

I'm attempting positive reinforcement. Treats! Going outside is fun!

Really, that is my biggest concern. So it can't be that bad.

The move has been hard on Emily. She likes the house, likes her new room and new bed, but generally dislikes change. It will take some time for her to adjust.

I've misplaced my camera USB and can't upload the photos I took of the move. As soon as I find it.....

I've made a new friend. I'm enjoying the process of getting to know her.