20 March 2013

Moving On Up

I've moved!

It's official. The new home of me, my words and silliness on the web is live. Head on over to www.jamiewyman.com to see it for yourself. Same fun stuff, new address. Hope to see you there!

19 March 2013



I promise nothing from this blog, really. I was sick for 2 weeks straight and the kiddo was on spring break last week. I've had nightmares the past two nights and they're the kind that scar the soul. I've tried applying chocolate and chai to cure what was clearly a dementor attack, and am administering episodes of QI as we speak. Oh, and that brand new website? I got it all nice and shiny for you with hopes of the official roll out this week. Loki, however, has other ideas, because somehow I fucked it up and it's buggered. Right to hell. I've got minions working on it when they're not at their respective day jobs and hope I don't have to completely re-do the whole thing. Why would that suck? Because after importing this blog to the new site, I had to go through every single entry (all 212 of them) and fix links and formatting. Sweet muppety Odin, I will never get those hours of my life back.

Anyway, I have lots of things that I'm thinking about right now. Books and stories I want to write. I'm hoping to have some flash up for you later this week.  The Steubenville rape case is on my mind. (Short version: What those boys did was heinous. The media's coverage is despicable. Our society needs serious help.) I turn 33 in a few weeks. My backyard is full of weeds and my brain feels full of holes.

It's all a jumble in my head and I need a penseive or something. So, rather than try to untangle those thoughts here, I will give you a story from last week's Thursday Night Dinner. Okay, 2 stories...

1) Apparently Disney is re-releasing the Little Mermaid into theatres this summer. In fintastic 3D no less! My friend Alicia said that she's totally going. Eric responded that he wanted to go with the squirt guns and sit in the front row. When I mentioned he should go armed to the teeth with Super Soakers and water pistols I realized that in the current social climate, Eric is likely to get shot for such a thing. Thanks, Aurora shooter, for ruining actual fun for everyone because you were a cock.

2) So, my friend Jeremy has a habit of talking over movies and television shows. His natural volume is also loud. It's just him. I mean, I've *seen* Iron Man 2, but I've never heard it. (Except Mickey Rourke saying, "My bird" in his accent.) So, the other night, we watched Wreck-It Ralph. Afterward, Jeremy wanted to watch the deleted scenes, but Alicia, Eric and I were talking. He got upset and said, "I'm just waiting on you guys to be quiet so I can hear it."

"What's that like?" I asked. Alicia grinned at me. Jeremy got a little more peeved. I said, "Still haven't seen Iron Man 2. GOODNIGHT!" Everyone laughed except Jeremy. It's all in fun, hon. You are loved.

I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, this is honestly what my life has been the past few weeks. A scramble of grey matter, pink eye and allergies. And bad dreams. Seriously, I have a dream catcher and cats that usually swat away the nightmares, but I need a security guard over my psyche tonight if I'm going to get rest.

Love and kisses, gang. 

08 March 2013

Public Access

So, I've been watching Amanda Fucking Palmer's glorious TED talk "The Art of Asking" over and over. It's profound and speaks to my hippy dippy crowd-love soul. It's 15 minutes well spent and should be required viewing for all artists,performers, musicians and storytellers across the world. Not because it's The Way or anything, but because there is wisdom there and it raises some fantastic questions that we need to ask ourselves about what we do. Check out the video (linked above) and meet me after the jump for my thoughts.

06 March 2013

Prepare Yourself

The end is nigh! Or not... Anyway. I've been remiss for a while with updating the blog. I've been sick of late and went on a three day binge of DayQuil, orange juice and episodes of Say Yes To The Dress. Honestly, other than the rise and fall of my temperature there's not much to report here at the moment.

My family and I are watching Avatar: The Last Airbender together in the evenings. Love it muchly. If you've not seen it, check it out on Netflix.

Um...yeah. I've got nothing. OH! Right! So, in the next few weeks we'll (and by we, I mean me, the voices in my head and a monkey in a fez) be rolling out a brand new website for yours truly. An honest to Loki website with my own domain and everything. So yeah, watch this space for details on that.

I need chai.

18 February 2013

Lucky 13

It's February 18th. That means it's MY LIFE DAY!!!!

I celebrate this day every year because I almost didn't live to see it. Every year is one more punch in the face to Depression and a notch in my belt. Friday February 18, 2000 I almost committed suicide. I was ready to do it and if it hadn't been for a dear friend being a bastard and calling the campus hotline on me, I probably would've succeeded in becoming a statistic. (At best I would've gotten the, "Dude a chick died in that dorm room and haunts it to this day" urban legend around campus. They probably would've spelled my name wrong, too.) But that anger was enough to say, "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow after I've punched Jesse in the face."

One day at a time. One reason at a time. One step at a time until 13 years later you're looking back at it and celebrating one of the oddest anniversaries imaginable.

Today is February 18th, 2013. I am not dead. I'm not depressed. I'm not blinded by that depression and I can see the love I had then and cherish the family I have now. I'm a wife and mother. Friend and soul sister. Creative partner. Sworn nemesis. Auntie in the making. I'm an author celebrating a novel and short story sale (did I mention that? Yeah, I sold a short story that will be appearing in an anthology later in the year)... It's not perfect by any means. Still overweight. Still dealing with the occasional back tweak. Life still deals out little traumas and speed bumps, friends are lost and time rolls on. But this existence is mine. All of it. And I have to say that Life. Is. Good.

It gets better. Hurts mend. Dark turns to light. The soul finds its springtime so new life can grow from even the most scarred soil. It gets better. It gets GREAT. And even the great gets better.

It's been 13 years and I'm still here.

(Fuck yeah. Because I feel a 'fuck yeah' was necessary.)
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