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travel in the time of covid

On Thursday, I got on a plane for the first time in almost 2 years. I flew from Oakland to Austin on Southwest. To accomplish this, I had to walk a half mile to the BART station, take two BART trains to get to the airport, check in, get through security, get on a plane, land in Austin, retrieve my checked luggage, get in a Lyft to the airport, and check in at the hotel, all while wearing my mask.

It may have been the longest period of continual mask wearing for me since this whole thing began. On the plane itself I was double masked.

I had no trouble breathing or getting enough oxygen. I did sweat a fair amount under my mask, especially when getting out into the muggy Austin air.

I saw no one behaving badly, though there were often people who needed to be reminded to cover their nose. No fights, no temper tantrums, no screams of FREEDOM!

I knew that everyone I planned to spend un-masked time with was vaccinated, and whenever in more company than theirs, I masked up. Was it weird and inconvenient? Yes, it was, but you know what else would have been weird and inconvenient? Getting sick, or getting someone else sick.

We still had a great time. We got to cruise the river with dinner and music. We went axe throwing and took a tour of a brewery (the cooler is always the best part, because Austin is hot and muggy).

I even ate inside a restaurant. For the first time since this whole thing started.

I reveled in being with friends I haven’t seen in two years. I hugged people. I relaxed. I did my best not to worry, despite the fact that the day I landed, Austin moved into Stage 5, and I was in a state that would NOT issue a mask mandate. Everywhere we went, business had signs up asking folks to wear masks if not vaccinated and I’d estimate that about half of the people I saw didn’t mask up at all.

I got home last night and my current plan is to quarantine myself for 14 days, as well as to go get a Covid test this week because as careful as we were, this delta variant is a sneaky bastard, and I want to make sure I’m not passing it around my neighborhood.

Hope y’all are safe and healthy, Readers! Now I have to get back to the job search.

Photo by Wolfgang Fürstenhöfer on Unsplash

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I get by with a little help from you

This week, I once again found myself without a day job. The company I was with laid me off on Monday, so I am back on the job search. I’ve come to really not like looking for a job. I’m good at what I do, and I have always let the work speak for me. I don’t like having to swagger.

I’m in a bad spot financially, but I have been here before, and I know I will survive. And, I have a mini sort of vacation this weekend, and already have an interview lined up for next week.

I’m going to take today off of the active hunt, but I will answer calls if they come, and do some writing instead. What good is time without work if I don’t utilize it?

If you would like to help support an out-of-work writer, there are multiple ways to do that. I still have copies of my books “Forever” and “Tonight” available for purchase, $10 for Forever, $7 for Tonight, $15 for both if bought together. You can use my contact page, or hit me up directly on Venmo, Paypal or Ko-Fi. Links below.

Venmo

Paypal

Ko-Fi

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sunshine and kindness

August is something of a transition month for me. When I lived in Upstate New York as a kid, it had this impending feeling of autumn, but with the heat and free spirit of summer. Corn of the cob and macaroni salads filled picnic tables, kids splashed about in Lake Ontario, and trees were just starting to show the kiss of color that autumn would bring.

Thoughts would turn to shopping for school clothes, the smell of leaves and fires, the anticipation for hay rides and haunted houses.

Of course, now that my life no longer rotates around the school calendar, August is the start of a string of birthdays/holidays that begins with my brother’s oldest child’s (who is no longer a child) birthday, mine, my mother’s, Halloween, Thanksgiving, my brother’s birthday, Christmas, New Year’s and then my brother’s youngest child’s birthday (she is no longer a child either).

Add in there a trip to Austin early in August most years for a birthday celebration of another kind, plus various conferences and vacations, and most years August is the start of time accelerating to race through it all.

I leave for Austin on Thursday (vaccinated and masked), but until then, I’m trying to hold back on the gallop and keep this thing slowed down a bit while I can. I’m writing a lot, and editing the Sirens Benefit Anthology, and even working at designing a cover for it.

Right now, I’m savoring my Death Wish Coffee and contemplating thinky things. I plan on filming some poetry videos while I’m in Austin, so stay tuned for that to happen.

And now, Readers, I’m off into my Sunday. May yours be filled with sunshine and kindness.

Photo by Brian Garcia on Unsplash

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bring on the hugs

If you have been reading my blog for any amount of time, you’ll know that I’m an agoraphobe. I was even BEFORE this pandemic. I’m most comfortable and happy within my own home, and in spaces that I am intimately familiar with (family homes, friends places, etc). In particular, I need to control the number of people in any given space.

This makes this whole idea of re-entering “normal” rather problematic for me. This year and a half being encouraged to stay home to stay safe has escalated certain anxieties for me. The rise of this Delta variant isn’t helping.

In a week, I’m getting on a plane for the first time in close to two years and I’m flying to Austin, Texas to spend time with some friends.

There’s a lot to be excited about. There’s also a lot to be worried about.

I know the people I’ll be with are vaccinated. I know a good chunk of our time we will be in well ventilated or open areas. But there’s the BART to the airport, the airport, the plane, the other airport, transportation to the hotel, the hotel…etc…

I’m trying to balance that against getting to see friends, getting to meet up with coworkers and live music for the first time in a lifetime.

I have Xanax on hand. I have presents to deliver. And I can not wait for the music.

And hugs. I can’t believe how much I miss hugs.

Photo by Vitolda Klein on Unsplash

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what matters is now

For a long time, in my teens and early twenties, I was sure that we would see the end of the world in my lifetime. Part of me clung to science fiction in what I only now recognize as hope that I was wrong, or some unacknowledged notion that even if Armageddon was to happen, some part of who we are, the best parts of who we are if I’m using Star Trek as an example, would live on outside the scenario I was taught.

Even after I learned my way out of that fear, and out of that particular flavor of Christianity, I maintained a love of sci-fi and in particular dystopian stories. The little spark of hope, that even if the worst of humanity prevailed, something good could remain was a driving factor in what and how I changed myself.

I’ve traveled a lot of roads spiritually and academically since then, and what I believe has changed and grown as I did. In some ways, the more I learn, the more I question, and I am less sure of a good deal many things than I have ever been.

One thing I do know, however, is that what I believe about where we come from, what comes after this life, whether or not there is a god or gods, does not define how I live my life. I no longer believe that my eternity rests on a belief, or on a specific god or on a specific ritual. Or, if it does, I am not interested in it at least.

What matters to me is this life. How I live now. How I treat others now. How I grow and learn now. Love and kindness are what motivate me, both for how I approach the world and how I approach myself.

We’re here, on this earth, now. This is what matters.

Those are my thinky thoughts for this Sunday morning, Readers! I hope you are well and that your life is filled with love and kindness. I’m off into the world of The Blood Witch with my Death Wish coffee in hand.

Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash

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editing services

I have openings in my editing schedule, and I’m looking to fill them!

Do you have an editing need? I provide business, technical, creative non-fiction and fiction editing with a quick turn around to help you get ready for publishing/submitting.

What types of things do I do?

  • Final Copy-Edit (typos & polishing)
  • Developmental Edit (Asking lots of questions, helping develop plot points,etc)
  • POV intensive
  • Technical Writing (software, hardware, manuals, online help, how to guides, etc)
  • Business Writing (website editing, blog posts, employee manuals, etc)

How can I help you? Email me at natalie@nataliejcase.com.

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word-working

Most weekends are set aside as time for writing/editing/other book related ings. Sometimes I dump several thousand words onto a page. Sometimes I strike a couple hundred off the page. Sometimes I tweak little things.

But there also days when I research odd things, fall down a rabbit hole of baby names sites, draw (badly) maps to help me keep directions straight. And then there are days where I’m looking for an agent, or I’m banging on promo work.

Very rarely, I get to use this time just to enjoy my own work, or lose myself into a new project, whether that’s a new book, a short story, a poem.

I do some of these things during the work week too, but I don’t have whole days to devote to them the way I do on the weekend. At least a half hour every day I am poking words in some way, shape or form outside of the wordworking I do in the day job.

This weekend I am diving deep into the world of The Blood Witch, part editing/part writing, as I attempt to patch up some plot holes and get some of the stuck bits moving again.

I love these characters, and this world. I look forward to being able to share them with you all one day.

Have a great Sunday, Readers! Stay safe. Stay cool. Maybe tuck into a lovely book.

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reflections on what it means to be American

In 1776, on the fourth of July, the Continental Congress unanimously adopted the Declaration of Independence, kicking off the great American experiment in governing ourselves. It was the first step in throwing off the perceived chains of Britain’s hold on us, the beginning of our attempt at a government formed by the people.

July fourth became a national holiday in 1870, but it wasn’t a paid federal holiday until the 1940s. Over the years, the holiday has been observed in a number of ways, traditionally including flag-waving, fireworks and family BBQs. Nothing says freedom like hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, I suppose.

The first real memory I have of understanding what the flag stood for, or the fervor of patriotism that it seems to inspire these days was in 1976, the second centennial of our stand for independence. Before then we recited the pledge everyday at school…but it was just so many meaningless words to this not-quite-eight-year old.

I wasn’t instilled with patriotic passion as a child. The concept of “the nation” and my place in it wasn’t something that my little brain gave much energy to.

As I grew, I did develop a love for the country I called home, and the older I get, the more radically I love, and want to improve, America. I’m not a flag-waving-ammo-sexual-patriot. I don’t actually even own a flag. I’m not likely to attend any fireworks displays (especially now when we are so dry and the state is burning), or play patriotic music.

I guess you could say I would rather live my patriotism than show it off. How do I do that? With my vote. With my vocal support of equality, equity and the desire to live the ideals of freedom, rather than the letter of the law. With my dollars that I spend or donate to support causes that are fighting for that ideal of freedom.

For me, the greatest thing about this country is the way we have progressed, and how we have allowed our understanding of what the founding fathers intended to grow with us, even though we still have a very long way to go.

Sometimes that progress needs to be dragged out of our past with a team of Clydesdales, and as recent years have showed us there is always a danger for our footing to flounder and the weight of our history to drag us backwards.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

Maybe they didn’t mean all men, and maybe they didn’t include women, but here we are, grown from that to, at least in theory, include all men and all women. Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. Think on that was you wave your flag and grill your brats. Consider what that means to not only you, but those who are not like you. Consider what it will mean to your children, or the generations to follow.

In the grand scheme of the world, we are a young country, and we have a lot of growing up to do, we have high standards to hold ourselves to, and we have an ideal of freedom for all that we must embrace in our hearts.

I hope this holiday weekend finds you well, Readers, and that your days bring kindness.

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the morning ritual

Human beings tend toward ritual, even if it is in an informal manner. Take for instance the morning coffee. There is a precise manner and order for arriving at a delicious, hot cup of coffee. For me, that ritual begins after my morning ablution.

And, because I’m owned by two cats, it includes their morning treat time too. For me, this looks something like:

  1. Put down a handful of treats for the kitties
  2. Fill the kettle
  3. Put the kettle on the burner and turn it on high.
  4. Rinse out the French Press and fill it with hot water
  5. **go do other morning ritual stuff while the water heats**
  6. Measure out beans into the grinder
  7. Grind
  8. Dump water out of French Press and add grounds
  9. Fill with water
  10. Let it brew
  11. Press
  12. Pour
  13. Savor

Most of this I do most mornings without really thinking about it. That’s part of the purpose of ritual, I suppose, to make things easy to do through repetition. But there is something very rewarding that comes when you narrow your focus, when you keep your mind and attention on what your hands are doing, rather than letting your mind wander off into the day ahead.

We all have little rituals, whether it’s making the coffee or the order in which we get dressed/undressed, or the way we get ready to leave the house or go to bed. Today, pick one of your daily rituals and be present in the motions, in the steps you take. Keep your thoughts centered on what you are doing and why. Make it purposeful and deliberate.

Either way, I hope your coffee is tasty, your day filled with kindness and your ritual fulfilling. I love you, Readers!

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do we still need pride in 2021

In any “normal” year, I would already be hard at work on the site of the SF Pride celebration, working with my team to deploy donation buckets out to the groups that man our gates to collect money from Pride goers.

That money goes into helping to keep Pride running, as well as giving grants to the non-profit organizations who send us their volunteers to do the job. It’s a job I’ve been doing in one capacity or another for the last…I don’t know anymore? Fifteen years?

You might think that it’s an odd job choice for someone with agoraphobia, and you’d be correct. It is. However, I learned early on in my battle against the irrational fear that having a job to do, having people who count on me to do that job, goes a long way in pushing the fear back.

When I first started working Pride with the Pagan Alliance all those years ago, I started off volunteering to supervise PA volunteers, but the Pride Donations department was just starting up a program to have coordinators who worked behind the scenes and I tossed my hat into the ring. Since then, I’ve been part of the team that did the work.

It provides me with a safe space when the crowds are overwhelming, and a task that needs doing to allow me the push I need to conquer the fear…or at least keep it at bay. It helps that it also includes a golf cart for part of the day, which affords me a little bubble of space around me.

All of that said, this is our second year without the event due to this damn pandemic. It just isn’t safe to cram that many people into that space, even now…even here in California where our numbers are way down.

I’ve heard a lot lately about why we still need Pride. We need Pride so that our community knows that we have their back. We need Pride because our transgender siblings are still being murdered at an alarming rate. We need Pride because our people are still facing discrimination in jobs, housing and even just in shopping. We need Pride because we need to lift each other up and help each other along.

In recent years we’ve started to realize just how many LGBTQA+ folks exist in this world, and it’s a lot more than we used to believe. I have a large number of non-binary and ace friends and family that ten years ago would not have felt safe to be who they are in the open…or even realized that there was a name for what they were feeling. I have transgender friends and family that have “come out” in the last five years, who are finally starting to feel that there is a place in this world where they don’t have to pretend.

So when will it be enough to not need a big gay celebration and parade? Never. It will never be “enough”. We should always celebrate who we are.

May this Pride weekend be filled with love and appreciation for who you are, Reader. May you feel safe to live your truth out and proud. May you make space for others to do the same. I love you all!

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash