I am *so* torn by all the squee regarding BlizzCon, and the fact that the seasonal Headless Horseman instance is spitting out the used-to-be rare mount (it's a flying flaming horse, who wouldn't want that!?) like a pez dispenser now. But if I log into the game at this moment, I'd only regret it. I have to remember that there's only angst, alienation and heartbreak for me there. Hyperbole? I really wish that were true. One day, it will be, and I can log in, have fun with the game again, joy in the nerdishness of it all. But that day? Is not today. It probably won't be for a while.
Besides, things to do. Like apply to grad school. Ack! This is the longterm plan for Marketable!Rom and breadwinning, as in loaves and loaves. But right now, the cupboard is getting a little bare. So jobs, as in looking and yuck and despair. I have two Romanitas to feed. But a little sidework for now keeps the lights on and such, so yay!
The Romanitas and I still read together at night. Not every night, like we used to, but sometimes. And the not-so-wee one said, "Mom, this story, it's so beautiful but the words are simple!" She said this with wonder as she then read a bit of it aloud.
So I told her, "You know how your teachers are telling you now that good writing means adding in all these things like adverbs and words you have to look up in a dictionary?"
"They'll tell you that for years. They'll tell you to make it complicated. But you know what? You'll learn that it's just clutter, garbage on the floor, and you'll spend the rest of your life learning to take those things out."
"But..." And then she stopped. She read some more, quiet, her voice, the lamp and the wee one and myself listening.
"It's like music," she said.
"Yes," I said, "Exactly."
Or like water over pebbles, I wanted to say. Your voice and this lamp. But that would have made it complicated. So I let it be and listened.
I wish I knew that when I was her age.