How are you doing?
Things are mostly fine in Sotia land, and I thought I’d share with you, since I always do so when things are not so good.
And I’ll start with the most important thing of all *drum roll*
So, since Sparrow had his shoulder surgery, I’ve been worried that maybe we did more damage than good, that he’d never get well, that he’d hate me forever, etc. Yesterday evening I took him to the vet to see how he was recuperating. The vet bent Sparrow’s front leg in some very weird angles (my sis said she thought he was trying to pull it off and eat it), and Sparrow didn’t even flinch. Before the surgery, he’d cry whenever he moved his leg backward, so now I feel so very relieved.
He can even play for the next twenty days–but then he’s getting the other leg operated on. Poor doggy.
Bourdas had some weird wounds on his right flank right after summer, and the vet said they were most probably caused by a cat, because they were infected with bacteria that mostly exists under cats’ claws. We gave him antibiotics and treated the wounds with disinfectant, and he gradually got all better, only a month ago a new wound showed up. In true Sotia fashion, I freaked out and told the vet I just knew it was either a flesh eating virus or something worse.
She’s fortunately used to me by now, told me to shut up, and explained that the dog had created the wound by scratching with his teeth. She believes it’s an allergy, which could be right, since my dad feeds my dogs whatever you can think of. I mean, he knows Bourdas favorite fruit is tangerines. HOW CAN HE POSSIBLY KNOW THAT UNLESS HE’S BEEN SECRETLY SLIPPING MY DOG FRUIT?
But the point of this section was to let you know that both doggies are fine now, so I’m a happy mommy!
Baby seems to be developing well. He kicks on a daily basis, especially when I eat chocolate–which is apparently a well-known pregnancy fact. Huh.
Other than the carpal tunnel syndrome and the loosening of joints that causes me lots of pain, especially in the mornings, I must admit to having a very easy pregnancy still. I’ve only gained six kilos so far, which my doctor is happy about, but have been starving 24/7 since the beginning of the 24th week. I’ve been used to being hungry, with the gazillion diets I’ve been on, but this isn’t just a hunger; I feel like there’s a huge void where my stomach used to be, and I need to eat the world to feel full. Oh, and by starving, I mean I want to eat more and more, not that I don’t eat anything. I’m being careful, not stupid.
My Love decided on what we’re gonna name out spawn. You see, initially I was convinced it’d be a girl, and since I wanted to name it Anna, after my mom, I told My Love he could choose a boy’s name by himself. (Stupid Sotia).
The name he decided on was Odysseas (Ulysses), and even though Greeks don’t usually do middle names, we’re giving the baby my dad’s name too, so my dad can at least hear it called out at the church during the baptism. My dad’s name is Chryssanthos, which I find to be horrible, by the way. My Love’s dad says his own name (Ion–sounds like “Jon” in “Jon Voight”) is too common in Romania, and he doesn’t want his grandchild to have it.
Now, the problem is that Odysseas is also the name of a guy who kind of has/had/will-have-again a thing with my sister, so my sister says she’ll be calling the baby, “You wanker.” Families. Can’t live with them; can’t kill them and bury them in the yard, ’cause the dogs will dig’em up.
With My Love still in Bucharest, since the two weeks of exams turned into three, my family is at my place almost constantly. They mean well and want to just be around to help if I need anything, but the lack of me-time is getting on my nerves.
My sister, in particular, never leaves. And she has like three glasses on the coffee table. And this morning I woke up to her banana peel from last night sitting on that same table. And yesterday morning I was looking for my Ugg boots for like 15 minutes before she thought to mention that she had them in her kitchen (downstairs).
My mom comes to “visit”, by which she means clean the entire house, on a Sunday afternoon, when I want to do nothing but veg out in front of the TV. Gah.
Nothing wrong with that, but I’m canceling my cable subscription. They have cheaper offers for new subcribers than what I’ve been paying for two years now, and I feel taken advantage of. So I’m canceling it. So there.
I am addicted to EVERYTHING. Or almost everything. But mostly it’s The Vampire Diaries. Everyone in it is awesome, and for maybe the first time since BtVS I’ve found myself caring more for the fierce ladies than the hot gentlemen. I’m a Damon girl to the bone, though I really like Stephan too. If he’s supposed to be some version of Angel, like I’ve heard people say, then he’s a much improved, multi-dimensional version. Oh! Forgot to mention that in the baby/pregnancy section, but pregnancy has brought along some naughty dreams, and all the pretty that’s on TVD doesn’t hurt one bit. Tehehe!
I thought having a book published would be the end of all efforts concerning that book. Boy, was I wrong! I have no clue how to market the thing, my weird shyness (don’t laugh; I may write about sex, but find it extremely hard to talk to new people) keeps me from approaching and following people on Twitter, I’m afraid my blog is as boring as what my mom cooks for my sister’s diet, and the only people who’ve signed on for my giveaway are my friends (thank you so much, guys!!!)
I emailed the publisher’s review coordinator, and she said sites have asked for copies to review, but until I actually read a review written by someone who doesn’t know and love me, I will have convinced myself my writing sucks.
This wave of self-doubt is killing my muse, by the way. Now that my net-book works again, I want to write more on Cherry Blossom, the sequel to Cherry Stem, but the moment I open that MSWord document a sneaky thought crosses my mind. “Who cares?” it asks, and then the words just won’t come.
I am honestly not trying to fish for compliments here. I swear. You’re just my people, and I need to talk to someone about all this. My mom and dad are supportive, sure, but they look at me like I’m an alien when I talk about my writing trouble. My dad, in particular, says he believes I should write something hopeful about the economic crisis. That man lives on his own little planet. Sigh. I hope the weather is fine there.
Oh, and it’s snowing here today, which is awesome. Only, if I’m to get stuck somewhere, I’d rather it be my home than work. Can I go now?
SO, HOW ARE YOU?