Finding Another Road

Yesterday was an interesting day.  It was both good and bad and just like life, you have to take both as they come at you.

Yesterday I met with my HRT doctor, one of the two meetings I have with her every year.  This 7 July will mark four years I’ve been on female hormones and, though it may sound clichéd, that part of my life has been good.  Yes, I have crazy mood swings at times and my depression will get the better of me now and then because estrogens do that to you, but I am woman, hear me roar, and no one’s taking that from me.

I also have boobs, which is a plus.

Therefore, I drove out to New Jersey for my semi-annual visit.  I arrived about 15 minutes before I was supposed to be there because after three and a half years I know my drive times.  We chatted, she asked me the questions she always asks, the told me my labs are “boring”–

And then she told me this would be our last time together.

I sort of suspected that this moment was coming for a while.  I know my doctor hasn’t been in the best of health, and a year ago she sent out a notice that she was about to close her doors before rescinding the comment.  But based upon a few other things I’d read, I didn’t think she’d stay in practice much longer, and that became a reality yesterday.

I was able to hold it together during our visit, but once out in the car and bad on the road I had several crying jags hit me on the way home.  My doctor has been an important part of my life for a few years now and having to say goodbye the way we did–well, it does hurt.  But I can’t begrudge her wanting to step away from her practice: after all, that isn’t about me.

So now I’ll start the task of finding a new doctor, though I likely won’t begin on that for a few weeks.  I’ve got other shit for which I need to deal and I’ll work on getting them out of the way first.  Also, as much as I didn’t mind driving into New Jersey, I’m going to try and find a doctor a little closer to me this time.  I know a lot more now than I did back in 2014, which makes things a lot easier.

One thing that my doctor told me is that she likes my “exercise regime”, which I told her consists of two or three 2 hour practice sessions of derby training every week, an hour to seventy-five minutes at the gym once a week, and a couple of hours of skating on the weekend.  I was proud of the fact that my weight this time was 238 pounds, down 15 from six months ago–though I’m pretty sure that I’ve likely burned off a bit more fat than that–and my blood pressure was 120/78, the lowest it’s been in a long time. That’s all due to skating.

And speaking of which… Monday night we meet the new photographer who’s agreed to shoot us this year and he was out to the rink on this last Monday.  I only showed up in a few shots, and the one below is probably the best.  My teammate Mak the Ripper is on the left and I’m helping her form a blocking wall.  Khara is the teammate behind me, trying to get around our wall with me doing my best to stop her–

By getting in the way with my butt.  (William Fletcher Photography)

 

Yes, the Bootie Block: it’s a blocker’s bread and butter, and the bigger the butt, the better the block.  Fortunately I’m a wide enough girl that the big butt comes with the territory.

Today I’m better.  And it’s warmer outside, though I can sometimes feel a chill come on when the sun dips behind clouds.  I’m in shorts and a tank top right now, resting and enjoying the day–

And, strangely enough, writing to you.

Let’s hope there’s more of this.

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All On Me

And yes: I am doing a riff on an REM song title.  Watch the video and find out why!

 

My two jerseys:

 

Everything’s Got a Moral, If Only You Can Find It.

Today I have something a little different.  It’s about social media–but not in the way you think…

My fellow The Snarking Dead TV Recaps writer Rachel Tsoumbakos recently had her Instagram account hijacked, so she did what most people would: she contacted Instagram and told them.

It wasn’t long after that things… didn’t go well.

Why don’t you read about Rachel’s Bogus Journey here

Projections of the Astral Kind: Seeing Not All

I know it’s gonna seem strange, but–here I am with another excerpt.

I’m slowly getting back into writing–with slowly being the operative word.  The story is coming out, but it’s doing so in fits and spurts, as the words don’t flow as smoothing as once before.  But sitting down and making a concerted effort to write close to 500 words is something I haven’t done in a while, so doing it makes me feel better.

And where are we now?  Well, the kids were going to try doing a little astral projection.  And if one of the two were to actually craft the spell correctly, it would probably be this one…

 

(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016, 2017, 2018 by Cassidy Frazee)

 

The moment Annie’s eyes opened she felt disappointment. The ceiling to the room looked the same and upon sitting up she say the rest of the room was just as she’d left it prior to trying to project. She let out a big sign and folded one arm under her breasts so she could rest her other arm against it as she pressed a fist against her mouth. It didn’t work. She shook her head. It should have worked. I know I was in a trance

It was in that second after her last through that she began to reevaluate her disappointment as she quickly noticed two things: one, she wasn’t wearing any clothes—and two, Deanna was sitting up in the middle of her reclining body.

The seer smiled as she took in her student’s discomfort. “I see you made it.”

Annie examined her surroundings slowly. “This is the Astral Realm?”

“Of course it is.” Deanna stood and everything from her thighs down vanished inside her body and the recliner. “Though I’m going to guess that what you’re seeing is really nothing more than the room as you left it before projecting.”

She nodded. “Yes. Everything looks the same—” Annie looked down at herself and spoke with a tone of disgust in her voice. “Why am I naked?”

“Let me answer those questions in order.” Deanna stepped away from the chair and stood in the open. Now that Annie could see her whole body, she noticed the slight glow surrounding her. “First, the reason everything looks the same is because you are now seeing the Astral Realm with a completely new set of senses—”

“It didn’t look like this when we walked physically into the Realm.”

Deanna projected a warm smile. “That’s because you were seeing things with your physical eyes. Now you’re not: you’re seeing things with your astral eyes, which are nothing but projections of your real eyes. In order to see the Astral Realm properly while projecting, you have to learn to project everything around you back to your eyes.”

After a few seconds of considering the matter, Annie felt she understood what Deanna was saying. “I have to use Astral Sight, don’t I?”

“Why do you think I was teaching that before Astral Projection?” She motioned towards her student. “Go on: try that.”

Annie began crafting as if she were really in her body and not a conscious mind linked to her astral form—as she now remembered Deanna explaining weeks before, there wasn’t a difference—and five seconds later the Astral Realm flashed into existence…

 

So, as we’ve seen a few times before, Annie is the first one to figure this spell out.  And damn, but Annie’s nekked again–trust me, though, there’s a good reason for that.

And if you’re lucky you’ll find out why tomorrow.

Projections of the Astral Kind: Settling In For the Trip

What is this madness?  In case you’re wondering, it’s an excerpt.

Yep. I finally sat down and did some writing.

Now, before you get all giddy: I didn’t do any of the writing I said I was going to do yesterday and for good reason: I was in Carlisle yesterday for their winter ice festival where there were all kinds of ice sculptures in front of businesses eager for your money.  I was there with two of my teammates–Shannon and Kellie–and Kellie’s girlfriend Sarah, and we were helping pass out team literature with the intention of finding businesses who could be interested in sponsoring the team for 2018.

We also drank.  As in like booze.  Because it was cold.  Yeah, that’s why.  We also took over the Carlisle version of the Iron Throne.  I didn’t have the heart to tell these ladies they needed to address me as Khaleesi after this:

Shannon, Kelli, Sarah, and me out doing their HARD sell. #HARD #DerbyGirl

A post shared by Cassidy Frazee (@cassidyfrazee) on

 

This morning, however, I decided I needed to get back into the last scene I started and put a finish on it.  And there’s a reason for that–

‘Cause it’s been a while–

 

I checked the dates and it’s been exactly two weeks since the last time I worked on this post.  Which is to say it’s been two weeks since I’ve written anything.  That is nearly the longest I’ve went without writing anything original.  Well, not really: I’ve gone longer than that after finishing a story, but before now the longest I’d gone without writing anything original was a couple of days.

The time was needed.  I had to finish this.

And I’m of the hope that now that I’ve gotten Chapter Twenty-One going, I’ll have the inclination to sit down and finish the sucker.

So, what is this chapter about?  Well, the title should give you an indication.  And the except–which is all of the first scene of this chapter–will set up the action:

 

(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016, 2017, 2018 by Cassidy Frazee)

Contrary to what most Salem students believed, the Projection Room at Memory’s End wasn’t a small theater where instructors could relax while watching movies: rather, it was where Deanna went whenever she taught students how to develop the art of Astral Projection.

The Projection Room was also one of the few rooms in the Numerology Building used for non-numerological purposes. Deanna’s reasoning was that since the Numerology Building was seldom used these days—there were only six E and F level students studying this particular art—using a room in a far corner of the first floor of nearly abandoned building allowed her students the maximum amount of privacy with nearly zero distractions.

Like many of the rooms at Memory’s End, the Projection Room was functionally spartan. There were a few cabinets along one wall containing supplies, maybe a dozen pillows of various sizes on the floor, and six plush leather recliners that could stretch out flat should one want to take a quick nap. The lighting was constantly subdued and a soothing soundtrack often played just at the threshold of hearing to help place students in the proper frame of mind for projecting their astral forms.

After a month of study Deanna believed both Annie and Kerry were ready to attempt Astral Projection, though privately she suspected that Annie would likely be the first to accomplish this task. It wasn’t that Kerry wasn’t up to the task, but as he did at times, his approach to Astral Projection was a bit clinical, whereas Annie jumped into the art with her heart and soul as she developed her crafting, and that always gave her a bit of an edge in these matters.

Both students arrived promptly at 13:00 and Deanna went right into what she expected from today’s lesson. Annie and Kerry both knew that today was their first attempt at disengaging their astral form from their physical one and she wanted them as relaxed and focused as possible. There wasn’t any need to say she wanted them to do their best: that was a given. She only wanted them to have the correct mindset so they’d succeed.

At 13:30 Deanna figured there was little more she could say about how to project and decided it was time to move on to the next step. “All right, then.” She motioned to the line of recliners against the back wall. “Let’s get started.”

Kerry was sitting almost immediately. He’d told Deanna that while he didn’t think he’d project the first time, he figured wasting time getting ready wouldn’t help. Annie, on the other hand, was methodical about sitting down and reclining the chair to the correct position before getting comfortable. Privately Deanna agreed with Kerry that he likely wouldn’t project the first time, but as far as Annie was concerned…

“Are you ready?” Deanna dimmed the light even further with a wave of her hand.

Annie stared up at the ceiling. “I’m ready.”

Kerry gave a quick nod along with a slight wave of his left hand. “Imma go here.”

Deanna took her own chair, one facing her students, and reclined just enough that she could relax while still keeping an eye on her students. “Close your eyes and clear you minds. You know the process: imagine decoupling your astral form from your physical form and taking control with your conscious mind. Harder to do than it sounds, but as with any crafting, it’s a matter of exerting your willpower over the reality of your dual nature.

“Lay there: don’t respond to any of my comments.” She quickly opened one eye to check on Annie and Kerry. Both lay back with their eyes closed, appearing comfortable and deep in a trance. “Separate one self from the other and you’ll find your minds going free and bringing your astral form along for the journey…”

 

Astral Projection.  Not the same as dreamwalking, because when one dreamwalks they are limited to the space inside their dreamscapes.  With Astral Projection, you are limited to–well, the Astral Realm.  And that’s a lot of space.

But first, you gotta get in there–

Seven Days Out

And here’s where I get to talking.  Enjoy!

 

Here’s a photo of me at the showing with the artist:

 

 

Here’s the video of the pace line I mentioned: