Disappearing act

Um. . . I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post. Bad girl! I promise to be better, I swear. The holidays and all the rush and bustle kept me a little more occupied than I realized. Most of my free time was spent making presents for my friends and co-workers. Make, yes, I did say that. I started in September making scarves for a whole load of people, and when I realized Christmas was more than on it's way, it quickly became crunch time. So I sat with my knitting and watched a whole lot of movies. (Which, incidentally, involved me buying more movies than I should have, but I'm adding to my collection for all to enjoy, or at least that's what I tell myself.)

Now that the holiday season is (almost) behind us, I should be back to my normal slacker activities of blogging and reading, with a cursory movie thrown in every once in a while. Yes, my life is pathetic. I freely admit it. But at least I enjoy myself, which is more than a lot of people can say.

I am planning to be social, however. Sometime in January I want to host a game night in my little townhouse. (Hey, at least I'm pretending to be social.) Invites will be coming soon, but I may have to limit the list since I can only squish in a dozen or so people into the living room. Well, depending on how many show, it could be a great way to get . . . er, closer . . . to some of my friends.

And with that I wish everyone a wonderful Christmas and fantabulous New Year!

White vs. Wheat

I've always been a white bread kind of girl. I just can't help it. Wheat is better for me, I know that. It has more nutrients. Multi-grain is even better. But do I want that? No!

There's something so deliciously sweet about eating a thick slice of white bread slathered with honey. Or maybe plain with a bit of butter for a salty snack. Then there's raspberry jam, seedless, of course, and homemade if possible. I even enjoy a piece of toast slathered with Nutella on my chocolate days and lemon curd for those citrusy moments.

You can't do that with wheat bread. It just isn't the same. And making a classic grilled cheese sandwich with 12-grain bread? Forget it. It loses something in the translation.

The problem comes when I'm at the grocery store standing in aisle two, looking at the vast array of yeasty choices. Traditional white? Homestyle potato? How about seven-grain filled with flax and sunflower seeds?

I should (my hand reaches for the wholesome wheat), but I really want (I drift toward the thick white bread a grandmother supposedly made) though my body will thank me later (I dither again) IF it can get past the craving for the homey goodness of white.

Ahh!!! Stop the madness! I grab the white and head for the cereal aisle. My self-indulgent side wins the day, but two weeks later it's back again to that same tug of war.

I've come up with a compromise of sorts. One week it's wheat when I'm health conscious and the next it's time for my guilty pleasure. Sometimes I even splurge and buy myself a loaf of fresh-baked artisan bread (French or Italian). Mmmm...

I'm not sure what all this says about me. Maybe I take pleasure in simple things--I'd rather my life be uncomplicated. It could mean that I know what's best for me and then give in to my selfish wants. It's really a battle of should versus want. I know what I should do, but I don't always do it.

Or maybe I'm overanalyzing all of this. Choosing bread should be easy, right? Yes, if you're not an OCD-driven maniac. (Not all the time, I promise. Just when it comes to bread. And a few other things, but we're not discussing that right now.)

The conclusion of all this? I have no idea. All I know is that I'm really hungry now. Toast sounds like a great idea. But should I have jam? No, too sugary. Peanut butter? Not if I'll have peanut butter breath. Butter would be nice. But think of all that fat. Argh! Not again!

TT 18 Books I recommend

After reading several lists that independent bookstores have compiled of their favorite books to recommend, I've decided to come up with my own list. (And, by the way, if I ever did start a business, it'd be a bookstore that also sells stationery. All my favorite things in one room.) So here, in no particular order, are thirteen books I'd recommend. Some are classic, some may be new, but all are good reads.

1.... I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith. I fell in love with this story of a young girl who lives with her family in an ancient castle. The storytelling is incredible, and the language is vivid and real. I can imagine a teenage girl thinking and writing these things--there may even be some things I would have written in my own journal.

2.... The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis. These books are much more than simple children's stories. There is a moral to them that speaks to me. Plus the Pevensy children's adventures are delightful simply as good stories.

3.... Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen. One of her lesser known books, but also one of the best. Meek Fanny Price is the epitome of patience earning the sweetest reward. And anything by Jane Austen is bound to have great romance.

4.... The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. When people ask about my favorite book, I usually tell them this one. It is an amazing story of learning to find oneself. Short, but very sweet.

5.... The Five People You Meet in Heaven, by Mitch Albom. This book made me cry, it was so touching and powerful. This is a wonderful book to read, and then ponder who you would meet in heaven, or whose lives you've touched.

6.... The Winter's Tale, by William Shakespeare. Though I have yet to read it, seeing a performance of this incredible play in London showed me the true genius of Shakespeare. It also has one of the best endings of any book in literature.

7.... The Little Prince, by Antoine Saint-Exupery. The beautiful simplicity of this tale breaks my heart every time I read it. There is so much truth to the observances of the little prince. If only adults read this book more often.

8.... Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis. A beautiful and stirring treatise on what Christians believe and why. There is a power to his simple, yet profound, explanations.

9.... Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. I love these books, but most especially book 4, Taran the Wanderer. His search to find who he truly is resounds with me.

10.... The Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale. You've got to love a fairy tale, especially one that is well told. Based on the Grimm story of a princess who must hide in the guise of a goose girl, there's a lot to love in this tale.

11.... The Diaries of Adam and Eve, translated by Mark Twain. Though very short, these two "diaries" are incredibly funny and touching. And through his usual biting wit, Twain shows us how different things seem from a man (or woman's) perspective.

12.... Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling. It goes without saying that these books are embedded in the American--and worldwide--conscious, but I still know people who have yet to read these fantastic books. Never fear! It is not too late to read the books. (And I promise, books are always better than the movies based upon them.)

13.... As a Man Thinketh, by James Allen. I turn to this book time and again whenever I am feeling low. His treatise on filling our minds with pure, virtuous, and positive thoughts is amazing. It makes me want to be a better person every time I read it.

Okay, I'm having a hard time stopping at thirteen, so I thought I'd throw in a bonus book.

Bonus: Captivating, by John and Staci Eldredge. This book got me through a rough time in my life. For any woman who's ever been wounded in her life (come on, admit it, we've all been wounded at one time or another), this book can lead toward healing. And any man who wants to understand women and their scars better, this is the perfect help.

Talent or determination? It may be both

What does it take to write a story the world over loves? How do those incredible writers craft their words in such a way that people have to stop and catch their breath because what they read was so powerful and so beautiful?

I was just reading through several lists of recommended reading. The topics varied by the bookstore recommending them, but I started to recognize some of the same titles that continuously earn a place on the best-loved-books lists. Memoirs of a Geisha, Snow Falling on Cedars, Angela's Ashes, Beloved. What is it about these stories, and the writers who tell them, that captivates people? What do they know about putting words together that others try to imitate but can never seem to capture?

A great deal of it is inborn, I think, something that comes naturally to some while others have to work very hard but never quite make it. Not that I don't think it can be learned, to some extent, but the most talented writers are just that: talented. It's not something they can necessarily create within themselves. No amount of writing classes or books will turn a poor writer into a great one. Mediocre, maybe, but extraordinary, unlikely.

That leads me to wonder about myself: Do I have what it takes to be a great writer? I hope so, and I think I might. For me the question isn't if I have the talent for it, but if I have the perseverance to stick it out when the story isn't flowing the way I think it should or the words on the page don't all feel inspired. Greatness is something I'll have to work at, if I can ever get there.

Maybe the key lies somewhere in there. Most talented people don't just sit down and have the book pour itself onto the page from their frantic fingertips--at least not most of the time. They still have to work at it; they still have writer's block and uninspired days. What truly brings about greatness, then, is the persistence to work through the hard times while developing those God-given talents that lie dormant within.

I promise this essay isn't about my vanity; more, it's a search within myself to figure out if my determination to be great, combined with natural talent, is enough for me to achieve the greatness I desire. Will people one day add my own works to their bookstore's greatest-books list? Who knows. But I'll never find out if I don't try.

TT 17 Things I'm grateful for

In honor of Thanksgiving Day, I'd like to think of 13 things that I am grateful for. This list could be so much longer, but I'll spare you and keep it short. In no particular order . . .

1…. Moments of peace. I cherish the times when I can be by myself. It is such a comfort to me

2…. Books. My life would be empty without them. Not just because I work as a book editor, but the knowledge and joy I take from reading would be severely missed.

3…. Ability to learn. I have the opportunity and capacity to learn every day. I hope I never tire of learning new things.

4…. My family. Though they often drive me crazy, I still love them and am grateful for them in my life.

5…. Good friends, and all the things I've learned from them. There are countless individuals in this list who've touched my life in some way. I wouldn't be who I am without their love and support.

6…. Places I've traveled and experiences I've had while doing so. I can't begin to describe the wonders I've seen and people I've met while traveling far from home. All of those memories are with me still.

7…. My education and the opportunities it's afforded me. I have a good job and knowledge of the world around me because of the years I spent in school. It was well worth the all-nighters and tests and papers.

8…. Working and the independence it grants me. I can pay all my bills and live in a manner I chose. I love that I don't have to depend on anyone for support. It makes me feel so liberated.

9…. Religion. Without my religion and my god I would be nothing. It gives me power to keep moving even when the world comes crashing down upon me.

10…. A desire for self-improvement. I am truly grateful that I've never been content to be the same imperfect person I am. I keep pushing myself to learn more and grow better each day I'm alive.

11…. Basic needs that are more than taken care of: food, clothing, home. So many people struggle just to find a place to sleep and food to eat. I have more than I need, and often waste more than I should. I need to be more grateful for all that I do have.

12…. Love in my life and the love I'm learning to have for others. I have been blessed to know many amazing people, and even more blessed to have known their love. But I am also blessed to learn how to love others and share that love with them.

13…. Innate freedoms I have in America. I can think, speak, and act how I will without government influence. That is a right many have been denied, and I am truly grateful for it.

There are so many others that I can't begin to list here. I do, however, have a gratitude journal that I pull out from time to time. It helps me, especially when I'm down, to remember all the good that is in my life. May we all remember a little bit better all the beauty around us.

Just say no

I'm so bad. I keep spending money when I know I shouldn't. This weekend it was books, and then later I bought a whole bunch of lotions and face wash and things. Then today I had to buy another pair of really cute (and comfy) pajama pants. That was followed by a whole bunch of crafting stuff so I can make my apartment cute for winter.

My problem is that I have no self-control. I really don't. When I want something, I usually just go buy it. If it's a bigger, more expensive item, I'm generally pretty good about figuring out how much it'll cost me and then figuring out how to pay for it. But as in the case with my car, I spent money when I didn't need to, or at least spent more than I should have.

Often I can hold off on spending money, but if you get me into a store and in a spending mood, I can justify just about anything. I'm a bargain shopper, so I almost always get a really good deal on what I buy, but I need to keep myself away from the stores. That might not work so well with Christmas coming up, but I need to keep myself in check.

I'm the same with my eating habits. I'll be good for awhile and eat healthy, but then I see those sweets just sitting there at work asking me to eat them. How can I say no? That is exactly my point, though. I need to stop justifying everything and learn to say no when I know it's in my best interest. Especially with all the holiday treats that will soon start appearing everywhere I turn.

I need to make a goal to spend less money and eat less junk and more healthful foods. I can do this, I swear I can, but it's going to take some will power. I just hope I can remember where I put that.

It is good

Last night over dinner I had a realization--an epiphany if you will-- though it may seem obvious to everyone else. Life isn't perfect, but it is good. My life, in particular. I make mistakes, I can be unhappy, but overall it is good.

I appreciate the time I have on this earth--to learn, to live, to love. It comes with its own set of challenges, to be sure, but that doesn't mean it still can't be good.

I don't have to be famous, rich, perfect. It is enough that I can be happy with what I have and lead a full life. I have a family; I have friends; I have everything I need, really, so it is enough. I'm happy with what I have and what I am.

TT 16 My fuzzy co-workers

Well, this Thursday I thought I'd take a pseudo-visual tour of work by showing you many of the lovely furry faces I see every day. No, my co-workers don't need to shave (with one notable exception). I'm referring to the furry friends that live in the old barn where I work. You may think it strange that a book publisher works out of a barn converted to offices and is crawling with animals you would never find in an office setting. Yeah, well I do too. So here are thirteen of the cats and sheep where I work:

1…. Booger: I should probably start with the cat who thinks she owns the barn. Booger (and no, I'm not making that up) lets everyone know when she's hungry or tired or hungry. Her meow sounds like she's a chain smoker and is the most annoying noise I've ever heard come from an animal. I should have taken a video so everyone could understand what I'm talking about.

2…. Chubbs (aka Gray Coat, Gray Boy, Fatty): He has to be one of my favorite cats. (I only have three faves. What can I say? I'm a cat person, even though I'm allergic.) Anyway, he is the one cat that most of the people at work like. Every morning he has to come in for a cuddle, though I'm disappointed he didn't come see me this morning. He is also one of the fattest cats I've ever seen. I'm amazed he can still jump down from tables and chairs without breaking his legs. And yes, he is spoiled, as you can see by this photo.

3…. Cleona (aka Gerlinda, Erlinda): She's another of my favorites, though she has a very playful personality. She'll sit docilely on my lap for several minutes and then start attacking my arm for no reason. The other day when I was leaving work, she decided she wanted to come home with me, so she tried jumping in my car every time I tried to open the door. Well, she got bored with that after a minute and then decided to jump on top of my car. She then tried to jump inside from the top. She is a fun cat to have around, let me tell you.

4…. Rosie: Rosie is such a sweet little cat. She'll let anyone pet her and gets along well with the other cats, which is saying a lot. When I tell people we have a lot of cat fights at work, I don't mean the women. Her favorite new spot is on top of one co-worker's sweatshirt that she lays on the counter just for Rosie. The cat is so sweet tempered, she doesn't even mind it when I tease her. (As you can tell, she's my third favorite.)

5…. LK (or Little Kitty, aka Droolie): I haven't seen LK in a while, maybe because we kept trying to scare him away from us. Now we aren't really that mean. It has more to do with how LK drools. A lot. All over everything. One girl at work, before she realized just how much this cat drools, was holding him when all of a sudden she felt a huge wet spot on her shirt. Let's just say, I'm not terribly fond of that cat after getting drool all over my foot. Blech. Poor cat. No one wanted to be around him.

6…. Son of Booger (aka Sobe): This is one of Booger's sons. She had another one around here for a while, but he got ran over. No one will admit to it, though there are suspicions that the owner of the company may have done it. SoB has an annoying meow as well--something he inherited from his mom--though not nearly as annoying. He tends to keep to himself, so I don't know as much about him.

7…. Fancy Pants: Fancy Pants is one of the outside cats. She doesn't really like people all that much, but she's always hanging around outside. (We tend to pick up a lot of cats because there are bowls of food sitting outside the barn. Hey, if people offered me free food, I'd stick around too.)

8…. Short-haired black cat: I don't know if this cat has a name, but it's a cat that showed up outside one day. One person at work thinks she's pregnant, which is always a possibility. I can't imagine how many cats we'd have running around after that. (Note: We actually have all the cats spayed and neutered just so we don't have to deal with millions of cats running around. They'd probably take over the barn if we didn't.)

9…. Cat that looks like LK but doesn't drool: Another cat I see every day but don't know its name. It probably has one, but I haven't paid any attention. This cat is skittish around people as well.

10…. Spaz (aka Spaztic): Poor little Spaz was with us only for two weeks. She showed up one day, just a little kitten, who was hungry and feisty. She would growl if you got too close to her food, as she was as spazzy as her name implies. We left work on Friday and when we came back she was gone. We all hope she found a nice home, but I doubt that. She was definitely a good one for laughs, though, as you never knew what she would do next. She did have a hard time getting along with the other cats. Pretty much she'd just hiss at any cat--or person, for that matter--that she saw.

11…. Casper (aka White Cat, Crazy Kitty, Crack Kitty): We called this cat Crack Kitty because she acted like she was on crack. There was one time I startled her in the hallway and she took off running. She was going so fast, though, that when she tried to turn into someone's office, she slid the rest of the way down the hall. I thought it was very funny, but I felt bad for that cat because some of my co-workers thought she'd been abused before we got her. We don't know what happened to her, either, because she disappeared one day. I imagine she probably got hit by a car. Poor thing.

12…. Mabel: Now, there are other cats running around the barn, but I thought I'd switch gears and show you the other animals we have. At one time there used to be six sheep and even a horse and some cows, from what I hear. That was definitely long before my time there. Mabel isn't terribly friendly. She won't come if you hold out grass for her or do pretty much anything.

13…. Gilbert: The other sheep, Gilbert, doesn't really do much, either. They're sort of fun to look at, and every once in a while they take off running, but all they really do is sleep and eat. When I was interviewing for my job, they offered to give me the wool from the sheep when they sheared them. I turned them down because, although I do know how to spin wool into yarn, I don't like the whole washing-poop-and-dirt-and-grass-out-of-the-fleece part of the process. Wow, that's a long post. I'm sure none of you are that interested in all the animal antics that go on where I work, but hey, it makes me laugh.

Lo siento

My sister never wanted dolls, when she was little. For Christmas she usually asked for trucks or a baseball bat. I, on the other hand, was all girl--Barbies, dresses, makeup, anything and everything you'd think a little princess-in-training would want or require.

She played baseball and basketball and could be found around the TV with all the other boys watching college football. You couldn't have dragged me near the football games if my life depended on it. I much preferred dancing and gymnastics.

As we started to get older, I would think about boys and kissing, especially whenever my current crush was nearby. She didn't care much about boys, except when she could beat them at sports. Only once did I ever hear of her mentioning that she thought some boy was cute. That nearly sent me into shock.

Throughout our childhood, she always said she never wanted to get married and never, ever wanted to have kids. I always knew I wanted a family--someday. I planned on getting married after I'd had the chance to travel the world and have lots of boyfriends and do pretty much whatever I wanted before time came to settle down.

But when we moved on to high school, she started going out on dates. She had a couple boyfriends, though never anything serious. I wanted desperately to have a boyfriend, but nothing ever seemed to work out (read: the only guys who ever asked me out were complete nerds and not even close to my type).

Then one day she met a really weird guy (I can say that because he's the first to admit it). He left to serve a church mission for two years, and they soon started writing letters at least two or three times a week, even though they were supposed to limit it to only once a week. Soon enough he came home, and a short time later they were married.

I played the bridesmaid, and everyone started betting on how soon I would find my own match. Not in the near future, I told them, because I had plans that didn't involve marriage and kids for a long time.

My sister's ideas about marriage and children had slowly shifted, for her own reasons surely. Maybe growing up or maybe finally finding that one oddball who would fit her perfectly. (You know I'm kidding.) But whatever happened, she finally realized that she wanted the family she'd sworn off as a child and teen.

It always makes me laugh when I think about how adamant she was that she wouldn't get married, and she ended up married young at 20. And then I think of how I was the romantic one with aspirations to have boyfriends and love and everything else a girl dreams of, and I'm the one who is yet to be married (or even have a boyfriend) at age 26. Things never turn out the way we imagine when we're young.

That's especially true for my sister. She has been married for 7 years now, and she has yet to have children. What was once considered boring and unnecessary is now the only thing she really wants. A few weeks ago she called me to say she was pregnant, and her excitement was without bounds. Her husband had even started coming up with names (Carthok, Kontock, I can't remember, but something equally horrible.) They made so many plans for what they would do with the child, when they would bring it down for everyone to see, where the child would sleep.

If only their hopes could translate into reality. Today, my dad let me know she had miscarried again.

There was always the risk, what with her health problems, but they tried so diligently to avoid anything that would endanger the baby. She was even on bedrest for a time though she was just two months along. Now they have to start over, try again, and pray even harder.

I can understand, at least to some degree, of what it's like to be denied the one thing you truly want in life. Though I haven't miscarried, and I know I'll never know that kind of sorrow until it happens to me, I too have grieved over something I couldn't control. She wants children, but she has been unable to have them. I want a man to love me and so I can start my own family, but I have yet to find someone who can give me all I ask and need.

Each of us has hopes, dreams, desires--things we so desperately want but, for whatever reason, has been denied. I don't know when she will get her child. Neither do I know when it will be my turn to find love. Soon, I pray, for both our sakes. Until then, all I can tell her is that I do love her. She's the only sister I have, and though there are times when she ticks me off, I still care what happens to her. I'll be here, when you need me.

And until we both receive what our hearts' desire most, at least we know someone will always be there to complain to, and to laugh and cry with.

A new challenge

I found out about an monthlong event that really got me excited. It actually started two days ago, so I'm a little slow on the get-go, but there's still plenty of time for me to get started.

November is National Novel Writing Month, and I've decided to join the throngs of aspiring authors who will spend the month spewing out 50,000 words of a novel. That's about 125 pages, so it would probably only be the start of a good story, but I think I'm up to the challenge. Once before, while working on Surviving Eden, I wrote nearly 100 pages in a month's time, so I know I can do it. I'll just have to dedicate myself to writing and really focus on what I'm doing.

Part of the challenge is to write the story from the beginning, so my other project will have to sit on the back burner for a while. That's okay, though, since I've gone back and forth with research for these two different projects. The one I'll work on for the next month I haven't written at all, just researched. It'll be harder than Surviving Eden because it will be set in a historical period I only know bits and pieces about. That's why I spent the day at the library getting books on history and even a dictionary.

Maybe once I'll a little bit further into the project I'll explain a little bit about the story and the setting, but for now I'm going to leave you all in suspense. As a side note, my blogging may be sporadic if I'm spending so much time writing. But I'll make sure to check in every once in a while.

P.S. Thanks to my writing class, I've completely redone the first chapters of Surviving Eden. I'll post here when I've had a chance to update it on my other blog. You'll have to let me know what you think of the changes. Maybe I'll even put a link for the old and new versions so you can see what's different.

TT 15 Creative Costumes

Ahh . . . Halloween. The time when even the shyest among us dresses up in outlandish costumes and act like fools in public. My favorite hobby during this time is people watching. (Well, I pretty much do that the rest of the year anyways, but now I have an excuse.) Below are 13 of the craziest, zaniest and most creative costumes I've come across this year.

1…. Dirty laundry. This was one of my favorites, just because it was so random. A guy had cut a hole in the middle of a laundry basket, which he put around his waist and filled with clothes. The best part, though, was the sock on his head. He gets high marks for creativity.


2…. Lego man. This was definitely a grand entrance kind of outfit. He had a big yellow head and was holding yellow Styrofoam hands. He did have a hard time walking because on his feet were two shoe boxes painted blue to look like Lego blocks. An A+ for interesting attire but a D for comfort. (He had to take off the outfit after a little while because it was so hot and uncomfortable.)


3…. God's gift to women. I laughed hysterically when I saw this guy, especially when he told my friend, who asked to take his picture, that he was hers, so she could do what she wanted. (Not in a dirty way.)

4…. Brokeback Mountain. This was a twist, of sorts, since it was two women who were dressed up as gay cowboys. From some comments I heard at the party, I think they may have been lesbians, but either way it was really funny. They get bonus points for the real-looking mustaches and sideburns.


5…. Fork. I can't say I've ever thought of going as an eating utensil (or even how I could pull that one off), but one girl cut a large fork out of Styrofoam, spray-painted it grey, and left a big hole for her face to go through. That one earned a chuckle.


6…. Satan on Sunday. Now, I didn't see this one, but I heard all about it from a friend. We left the party too early to see the devil in his bathrobe and slippers, with a bagel stuck on the prongs of his pitchfork. I'd have paid to see a costume like that.

7…. Mermaid who'd been caught. This girl took Ariel to a disturbing new level when she dressed as a mermaid holding a fishing pole and a fishing hook stuck in her mouth. It was even funnier watching her try to talk and eat with that piece of metal stuck to her lip.


8…. Where's Waldo. Not terribly hard to make as a costume (white duct tape on a red outfit), but it made me giggle nonetheless. He kept popping up where you least expected to find him, generally in a crowd of people dressed in crazy outfits. Now why does that sound familiar?


9…. Summer. This girl had a pretty outfit on, rather bohemian by the look of it, but the green shawl and vines and flowers wrapped all around her added to the effect.

10…. Desperate girl. One poor unmarried young woman was brave enough to wear a wedding dress with a sign saying that she's desperate for a ring on her finger. I should have asked her if it worked, cause I could use some help in that department.


11…. Mastercard. One enterprising soul decided that instead of making a costume, she'd wear a sign instead. Shirt . . . $30. Pants . . . $80. Shoes . . . $60. Getting a costume she didn't have to make . . . Priceless.

12…. Switching roles. A wife who was 8 months pregnant dressed as a man with a bear gut (wifebeater and all) while her husband dressed as a . . . woman who was 8 months pregnant. It was rather funny to see them together.

13…. Goose Girl. Last, and definitely least, I promised to show pictures of my Halloween costume, so here it is. not terribly creative, I know, but on Saturday when I didn't have a costume, my blind date and I decided to visit a costume shop. I really liked this medieval dress, and plus, I look dang cute in it. For work, though, I had to come up with a literary figure to fit the costume (since I work for a book publisher and all), so I chose the Goose Girl, Isi. She's the heroine of one of my favorite books, the Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale. Beautiful story if you haven't read it.
Bonus…. I have to add this one in because I thought it was hilarious. Some trick-or-treaters came by, and one 14-year-old boy was dressed like a nun. Teenage boys kill me.

Horrors (and highlights) of dating

I'm so bored. I feel bad, but Blind Date #1 is talking to me on the phone right now, and instead of talking to him, I'm blogging and saying "Uh huh" and "Yeah" every once in a while to make him think I'm actually paying attention. I'm so bad, I know, but I don't know how to tell him to stop calling me. I'm such a chicken.

Ahh! I just want to scream. I had to stop typing for a minute there because he caught me at it--he could hear me typing over the phone. Well, I told him that I wasn't interested in going out with him again--after he talked about nothing for a good fifteen minutes--but he wouldn't let it go. He kept asking if he had done something wrong or offended me. I told him no, and then he proceeded to ask me if I wanted to go out as friends. That thought scares me as well because I'd be bored out of my mind for who knows how many friendly conversations and non-dates.

Then he asked, again, if he had done something wrong. Once again, I told him no, but then he kept talking for another ten minutes about how you can't really get to know someone in only one date, and so he asked me out again. I really hope most guys aren't that dense, but honestly, when I tell him I'm not interested, how many times do I have to repeat myself before he understands? It also made me feel really guilty that I was turning him down, but there's nothing to do about that. I don't want to go out again.

Okay, so breakdown of my weekend. Needless to say, he was a little weird. Even my dad admitted that today when I talked about my date. (Thanks, Dad, appreciate you trying to set me up with weirdos. Can't wait to see what you're going to try next.)

Well, he arrived an hour and a half late, which I only minded because he kept calling every few minutes to tell me he was running late, and then that he was lost. Once we finally got going, I was holding on for dear life as he drove. He's originally from Mexico, so I'm pretty sure that's where he learned to drive. (I'm not saying everyone in Mexico drives poorly, but I've seen some really scary ones before, and he was definitely among them.)

Bowling was okay, but the conversation was really boring, and he also kept getting into my personal space. I'm not sure I've discussed this before, but I really have issues with guys I don't know invading my personal space. Hovering over me qualifies, big time, as invading said personal space. As I was bowling, he would stand right behind me--he never sat down. I kept inching closer to the lane to get away from him, so it made it harder to bowl. That didn't hurt my score, however, as I creamed him, nearly doubling his score. It also bested my personal record. Three strikes in a row and a score of 172, thank you very much. (Okay, I know it's not much to brag about, but that was good for me.)

Okay, I'm done talking about that date. I'd like now to move on to much happier dating experiences with Blind Date #2. (Sorry, this is going to be a long post, but if you want good details, you'll have to slog through it.)

He was a little late as well, but once I told him where to turn he got there just fine. We went to breakfast and had a really good conversation while we were there. It seems both of us really like to travel: he got back from a few weeks ago from a trip to China (yes, I am very jealous) and I went camping, which he also likes to do. So far, so good. (I have to add in one annoying thing from my previous date because I just thought of it. Every time I'd agree that a certain movie was good, or even when I told him I went to the same university as he did, he'd say, "That's another thing we have in common." Honestly, if you have to search for things you have in common, that's pushing it a little too much.)

Back to the other story, after lunch we decided to visit a costume shop to see if we could find Halloween costumes since neither of us had any idea of what to dress up as. It was fun looking around, and we helped each other choose costumes. I'll leave you in suspense about my costume for a few days. I have other parties to go to, and I'll post some pictures later, but I have to say that I do look pretty dang cute.

That date ended well, and it was interesting to find out that we both go to the same church and he's good friends with one of my good friends. Talk about kismet.

So those were my dates. We'll see how #2 works out. Who knows what will happen there, but it will be interesting to see how things progress.

Shoot me now

Alright, let's try that again. Stupid computer isn't cooperating tonight, so we'll see if I can get through an entire post without it messing up again.

So I'm not looking forward to my blind date tonight. But there is hope--we're supposed to go out at 7 o'clock and he hasn't called yet to get my address or anything. It's 6:20 right now, so I'm really hopeful that he either forgot or can't do it.

I know I'm mean to say things like that, but I really don't want to spend a whole evening with him. I haven't met him yet, but every time I've spoken to him on the phone I get so bored. He's repeatedly told me that his favorite hobbies are bowling and miniature golf. He also enjoys reading books about his work as an engineer, rather technical stuff. Nothing in common with me, so far as I can tell.

Maybe I'm just too nice about it, at least when talking to people. I should have just said no when he asked me out, but my dad is the one who gave him my number, and I didn't even want to get into that. Needless to say, this will be a one-time-only event.

The blind date tomorrow morning is a different story. I've spoken to him several times as well, and we seem to have a lot in common in addition to him being interesting to talk to. We'll see how it goes.

Dang it. I just got off the phone with Bachelor #1, and he'll be here in half an hour so we can go bowling. I don't mind bowling, per se, but when I've been on four or five dates where that's been the sole entertainment, it gets old quickly.

I need to have a better attitude. It'll be okay. I think I'll survive. But be sure that if there are interesting details (especially bizarre, random things that always seem to happen on my dates) you will all be the first to hear.

Off and running

Well, I'm off again. It seems like I'm really busy these days. Not really, but I keep myself busier than I have these past few months. Sometimes I enjoy lounging about my apartment too much for my own good.

I'm headed to my writing class in a few minutes, and then tomorrow night is a blind date, Saturday morning another blind date, and a Halloween party that night. (But I still have no idea what I'm going as. Any suggestions? Well, other than the obvious "Naughty __fill in your own blank here." Those are about the only costumes available for women anymore.) Whew, I won't know where the time has gone. And how, exactly, am I supposed to finish all the books I'm reading when I'm out being social? Priorities, priorities. I need to get my act in gear.

Finally

I'm back, and I'm hoping it's for good this time. I finally got Internet access in my apartment, but it's much slower than I'd like since my roommate took charge of setting it up. But oh well. I'll take what I can get.

Work is good, though today one of the cats (we like to call him Chubbs or Fatty because he looks like a hippo) was playing a little too forcefully and hooked his claw deep into my finger. Since I'm allergic to cats, my finger didn't take this so well and is swollen to almost twice the size. It's been nearly five hours now and it still is difficult to bend, so I might not be typing much tonight.

On the dating front, I have two blind dates set up this week: one Friday, the other Saturday morning. I'm excited about one but not the other. The Friday night date I'm not looking forward to considering the poor guy bores me to tears just talking to him on the phone. The second guy sounds really nice on the phone and has many of the same interests I do. I've been waiting a while to go out with him because he took off to China for a few weeks on vacation, and then I was gone the past two weekends hiking and camping.

Which brings me to what I've been up to lately. A week ago I went with my family to Bryce Canyon overnight so we could go hiking. It was a lot of fun, but four hours of hiking up and down mountains wore me out. However, it was a great warm up to this weekend when I went camping for three days in Zion National Park. (I have lots of great photos, but I'll post those later because I'm too tired to download them to my computer right now.)

My friend and I went on three good-length hikes. The first, Angel's Landing, was incredible but it really made me nervous at points. Those afraid of heights, and especially those afraid of walking along the edge of a cliff on both sides with only a chain to hold onto, are not encouraged to go on this hike. People fall off and die more frequently than I'd care to think about. In fact, the friend I went with informed me today that the most recent time someone fell off and died was in June.

We also hiked through the Narrows quite a ways, getting wet up to waist deep, which wasn't terribly pleasant when night started coming on. The weather was wonderful considering it is the middle of October, but it did get pretty chilly at night. The last hike was also up a mountain, some of it going along cliff edges with only chains to hold onto, but it was gorgeous. It's called Hidden Canyon, and it's exactly that: a canyon hidden high up, with beautiful trees in the shade of tall walls of sandstone. One of the nicest things about the time of year was that some of the trees were just starting to turn since autumn hits southern Utah later. The green, yellow, orange, and red leaves contrasted beautifully with the red and white sandstone.

That's about it for now. I'm still really tired, exhausted really, considering we hiked a long way and I'm still really out of shape. But it was really nice to get away for a while and not even think about work. Sigh. Now it's back to the grindstone, but at least I'm more relaxed and ready for life.

Nothing much

Time passes much too quickly for my taste. (Or at least it does right now. Sometimes it passes too slowly. Somehow it never seems to move at the right speed.) It's been nearly a month since my last post, and yet my life continues.

Nothing terribly notable is going on. I did have a blind date a few weeks ago, though nothing interesting/weird happened, but neither was there any chemistry or attraction (at least on my part). My friends at work tell me I need to inform blind dates that they need to do something bizarre so I'll have a good story to share after. That might not go over so well, though I tend to attract enough weird ones without asking for them to do strange things. I'm also being set up again with a friend of a woman I work with. It won't be for a few weeks, though, because he's taking a trip to China. Let's just say I'm a tad jealous. Well, if something does work out with him, at least I know he enjoys traveling.

I promise we'll get back to our regularly scheduled blogging once my Internet is finally hooked up. My roommate was looking into it a few weeks ago, but I've heard nothing since. I really should check up on that. I miss all my blogging friends.

I'm not dead, I promise

Um, yeah, it's been a while since I've posted. It's also been a while since I've had stable Internet access. (Work not included. I'd love to blog at work but a) I don't think that's part of my job description and b) I'm usually too busy to even think about it.)

I finally got my computer set up at the new place, which means now I can watch movies. Wahoo! No, we don't own a TV, and I don't care enough to go out and buy one. Which basically means I'm cheap and am waiting for my roommate to break down and buy one first. We don't have a microwave, either, but I think next paycheck coming around will go toward one. That is one thing you don't realize how much you'll miss until you don't have it.

As for the Internet thingie, I'm at the library, praying some curious passerby doesn't take to reading over my shoulder, though I can't imagine what would be terribly interesting about what I have to write. There never really is, actually. Anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis must be very bored indeed. But anyway, I'm shopping around right now, but any decent Internet service will cost me more than I want to pay, and my new roomie doesn't sound terribly enthusiastic about splitting the tab. She will find, however, that there is no Internet available unless she's willing to cough up some money to support my blogging addiction. (By the way, you have no idea how terrible blogging withdrawals can be. Simply horrible. Which is probably why this is all gibberish and not making the least amount of sense to anyone with an IQ above 20.)

So there you have it. I'm cheap and working hard to get my regular blogging fix. Things may continue sporadically for a while, but I promise, I will be back.

Almost done

Well, I'm pretty much moved. The last load is sitting in my car waiting for me to drive it all back to my apartment and unload. Which would be why I'm procrastinating; I'm just so tired of all the trips back and forth, up and down. It has definitely been a workout.

When I was over a few days ago, my dad and stepmom mentioned that they might be getting a foreign exchange student in the next week or so. I thought they were moving quickly to fill my room up the moment I left, but I guess the girl from Vietnam had planned to stay with another family, and a week before she was supposed to come they canceled on her. So it might be interesting to visit in the coming months to see how they'll live with a stranger in the house. Maybe it'll help them curb their tempers and not fight in front of her. Or it could cause more friction. Who knows.

I have realized the past few days that this really is a good decision and the right time to move out. My stepmom continues to be cold and selfish, 2 of the main reasons I couldn't stand living there anymore. She watched me struggle moving all my stuff one day and never even offered to help. All she did was complain when a door was left open because the air conditioner was on. Then today she got upset when I said I planned to leave some formals in the closet because I didn't have anywhere else to put them. She got upset because she wants to use my room as her own now and wants all of my stuff gone, even though she already has closet full of her things in the master bedroom. I can't wait until I don't have to come over here anymore, except for special occasions and maybe Sunday dinner once in a while.

P.S. I've yet to set up my computer or the Internet at my new place, so my blogging will still be sporadic.

No rest for the weary

I don't have much time tonight but I thought I'd just check in. I have so much stuff to move, and seeing as I didn't really pack beforehand, I'm now throwing things into boxes and suitcases trying to move as much as I can each trip. Nice thing is that I can leave things at my dad's house and take my time if I want, but I'd like to get most of it done in the next few days.

My new roommate and I discussed the bedroom situation, seeing as there's the master bedroom that is much larger and one smaller room. I'll take the smaller room but she'll pay more in rent and in about 4 months one of her friends wants to move in as well, so we'll have another person to divide costs with. It should be good, and there's enough room for 3 people.

One thing I always forget, though, is how much it costs to get started up again. What with buying food, paying deposits and buying furniture and other things, it adds up really quickly. I'll try to be frugal, and I do already have a lot of things so I'm hoping it won't be too bad.

Now I'm off again, back to the apartment. One thing I really need to figure out is my Internet situation. I can't live without the Internet, and I pray it won't cost me an arm and a leg to get good service (i.e. high speed. Please, please, oh please no dial-up).

Scenic route

This has been an eventful week and promised to continue the same. I got back from my camping trip to the Grand Tetons yesterday evening and was completely exhausted. That probably stems from the fact that we didn't arrive at camp until 3:30 in the morning due to us going in one large circle once we reached Wyoming.

It was rather funny, especially when we met up with another car we were traveling with that had gone a different route but ended up lost at the same gas station at around midnight. The drive up and back went by much quicker, however, once we bought HP 7 on CD. I must say that Jim Dale, who reads the book, does an excellent job. I was gripped by the way he read the story and the voices he used for each character.

So instead of sleeping, I stayed up late listening to the book. The next morning my body woke me up at 7 and wouldn't let me get back to sleep. Sadly, my body's natural clock is now set for 7 a.m. whether I like it or not. Probably better for me, but I do enjoy sleeping in every now and again.

We played games and went swimming in Jackson Lake and went up to Yellowstone and basically had a good time. No complaints, though I did go off on a walk by myself in the woods when I ran into a coyote. Considering that I was all alone and far from my camp or any other people, it made me nervous when the coyote started following me. At that point I figured my walk was over, though I would have liked to have gone farther, and headed back slowly at first and then running. He probably wouldn't have attacked me, but I didn't want to find out so I got out of there pretty quick.

All in all it was a nice trip and a great time to say goodbye to some of those people since I'm moving and won't see some of them much anymore.

Now I get to look forward to moving all my stuff, starting tomorrow. I've already got some of it boxed up, but the big things, like my bed and dressers, we'll be moving on Tuesday. Ugh, it makes me sore just thinking about all that work.

P.S. So if I don't post much over the next week, you'll know that I'm busy getting myself moved. I will return eventually. I promise.

TT 14 My weirdest injuries and illnesses

It's been a few weeks but I'm back and better than ever, which isn't saying much, but here goes a rather painful Thursday Thirteen for me:

My 13 weirdest injuries and illnesses.

1…. Six years ago I took a study abroad trip over to London for 2 months, and I was so worried that I would hurt myself while far away from my family. (I tend to be somewhat of a hypochondriac, though generally won't admit it.) The gods were smiling on me during those months, but the moment I got back, they decided to have a little fun with me. A week after my trip, the same day I met my new roommates for the summer, we decided to have a friendly game of basketball in the swimming pool with some guys we all knew. Well, things got a little out of hand--since I'm so small (5'1" to be exact) the guys would pick me up and throw me across the pool to get me out of the game. Things were raucous but harmless, that is until my roommate went up for a rebound and brought her elbow down. . . on my nose. It broke cleanly and left my nose completely crooked. There wasn't any blood, but boy did that sucker hurt. But as I always do when injured, I started laughing hysterically over how stupid I was to get hurt in such a bizarre way. They all thought I was faking it, until they saw my nose, that is. I had surgery a week later to fix it, but for several months afterward it hurt to blow my nose or even breathe. The reason it didn't bleed was because it broke right where the cartilage and the bone meet. The doctor said he'd never seen anyone with a break like that before.

2…. Well, a week after my broken nose, I was driving home from an appointment with the nose doctor just before he was going to operate on it (it was such an odd break he decided he should knock me out since he might have had to cut it open to fix it). Just as I was headed down the street toward home, a car pulled out in front of me and I barreled into it. That's what I think what happened because I can't remember the 30 seconds before the accident happened. All I can remember was the airbag exploding into my face, smashing into my already broken nose. (This was before it got fixed, or otherwise I would have been one angry woman.) My dad's car, which I was driving at the time, was completely totaled even though I had only been driving 30 mph. At least it wasn't on the freeway where a head-on accident like that would have killed me. After that week, some of my friends were ready to stick me in a padded room to keep me from injuring myself even more.

3…. Continuing in the vein of broken bones, I was in a college apartment one night walking toward my bed when I smashed my middle toe in the cinder block holding up my roommate's bed. (Remember using cinder blocks to prop up the bed so more stuff could be stashed beneath? Great for storage, bad for toes.) I nearly cried it was so painful. Actually, I think my eyes did tear up. That little piggy hurt for weeks afterward, and I walked funny for a while until it stopped throbbing so much.

4…. Okay, one more broken bone story and then I'll move on to something else. When I was 10, my siblings and I were playing roller hockey out in the driveway. (Mighty Ducks was popular then, and roller hockey was all the rage in my neighborhood.) Sad to say, wheels on my feet plus my ability to injure myself are not a good combination. While standing still, my feet somehow flew out from under me and I landed hard . . . flat on my tush . . . on the hard cement driveway. Again, I laughed hysterically while my family looked at me like I was some strange child. All I can remember after that is how painful it was to lie in bed. For two whole weeks it was incredibly painful even to lie down, let alone sit. I still can't do sit ups to this day, and I'm sure my butt bone (tail bone, whatever) is still crooked.

5…. Once when I was in 2nd grade, my mom had just dropped us off at school and we were walking up to the building when I tripped on an uneven part of the sidewalk, smacking my forehead on the cement. (I really have issues with cement.) My friend Jessica was walking behind me and didn't notice that I had fallen, and she tripped and fell on top of me. Again, my head banged into the pavement in the same place as before. Now, I was a really shy child and didn't like to draw attention to myself, so I pretended like nothing had happened, covered the huge bruise/scrape with my hand and headed into school. My teacher noticed something was wrong when she say me, but I told her nothing was wrong because I was afraid I'd get in trouble. She, fortunately, wasn't put off by that and took me to the nurses station and cleaned the wound and fixed it up.

6…. Later on at the end of my childhood as I was trying so hard to become a woman, I decided that I needed to shave my legs. I didn't ask my mom because I was certain she would tell me no, so I went into the bathroom when no one else was around and proceeded to shave my legs. No one had ever told me that you need to use soap or shaving cream. My dad had an electric razor, so I figured I was good. A few minutes later, with large strips of skin shaved off, my mom came into the bathroom and saw my bleeding legs. She gently showed me the proper way to shave, after cleaning me up of course, and didn't care that I wanted to learn even though I was only 11 or 12 at the time. Now, I can't remember why I ever wanted to start shaving since it has become the bane of my morning showers.

7…. I have very tender skin, and even the slightest bump on an arm or leg will turn into a bruise, so sometimes while I'm getting into the shower I look down and see mysterious bruises that magically appear overnight. Most of the time I can't even remember how I got them.

8…. Many of those mysterious bruises probably come from my lack of coordination, or should I say my poor depth perception. I run into things all the time, especially when I'm groggy in the morning. After I've just woken up, I'm usually pretty wobbly and run into the walls, tables, chairs, whatever happens to be nearby. I also tend to smack my hip into tables and desks while walking past because I misjudge how far I am from the offending items. People at work find it rather funny when I yell because I've run into something.

9…. My parents realized I had OCD when I was in the 5th grade. My eyes had been itching really badly, probably from allergies, but I thought it was my eyelashes making me itch. So I proceeded to pull out more than half of them to make the itching stop. It did stop eventually, but I also looked like a freak until they all grew back a while later. (My OCD is much better now, by the way. No more pulling out all my hair or eyelashes. It's a lot easier to control when you're an adult and understand what's going on.)

10…. My last 3 stories took place a few years ago while I was a church missionary in Montreal. The first of which happened while playing soccer with a bunch of guys. One of them was from France, where soccer. . . erm, football . . . is very popular and extremely competitive. Let's just say that he really got into the games. I can be pretty competitive when I want to be, and I really wanted to show him that I could, well, show him up. When we came face to face, he kicked at the ball and instead got my shin. I walked it off and got back into the game, though I was still limping. After a few minutes, I had the ball and he came up again kicking at the ball. I couldn't believe it when yet again he kicked me instead of the ball--in exactly the same place as before. By that time I couldn't walk and my leg had a huge goose egg on it. We called the game after that, especially since he's the same person who had earlier kicked another person in the hand, and broke it in 2 places, while playing soccer. Needless to say, we didn't play soccer with him again.

11…. I got sick one week right before Christmas, and after that I was so tired I could hardly even function. It would take me a long time to dry my hair because I'd have to stop every 5 minutes to rest, it wore me out holding my hand over my head. I went to the doctor, and at first he thought it might be mono. I thought I'd have to go home 6 months earlier than I had planned and was very upset. But the tests came back negative for mono, and my doctor decided I probably had chronic fatigue syndrome. I didn't understand it then, but whenever I get really stressed I get sick and then start getting really tired and fatigued all the time. One good indicator that it's coming back are the 2 lymph nodes in my neck: Bert and Ernie. I named them after the Sesame Street characters because is was generally fatter than the other. But when skinny Bert swells up, I know I'm in trouble. (I ended up staying in Montreal the whole time I was supposed to and just worked through the fatigue, though I never felt rested.)

12…. During the time I was battling fatigue, I got ill by another route. Generally we took the Metro or bus while living in Montreal and I tried to make sure I washed my hands after getting off and before eating, but once or twice a person handed me a cookie or something else small before I thought to wash, and boy did I pay for that later. One day I was throwing up every 15 minutes for 5 hours straight. Another time I had terrible stomach pains and couldn't eat for 3 days. I definitely learned my lesson.

13…. The last started the day before I left home to move to Montreal. I had a stye on my lower eyelid, but I was so preoccupied with moving and such that I didn't do much for it. Well, that sucker stayed on my eyelid, sometimes swelling up, sometimes subsiding, for a year and a half. Getting to the doctor in Canada was a pain, so I never thought it important enough to have one look at my eye. By the time I got home a year and a half, it was sore and rock hard. I went to the doctor and the pus was so hard he had to perform surgery on it--twice--to finally get rid of it.

And those are just the bizarre injuries I can remember. With that history, I'm afraid to think of what the future will hold.

Heirlooms

I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but my dad and stepmom went up to visit my sister in Seattle just a few days after I left there. I don't have any qualms about that, though, because they drove the whole way, and I dread spending 4 hours in the car (which I'll be doing on Thursday as I head up to Jackson Hole) let alone 14 hours. I've done it before, but I can't say I've ever enjoyed it.

Anyway, before they returned home, my sister loaded them up with a box of dishes she received from my grandma as a wedding present. My sister didn't like any of it, so she's passing it on to me to keep it all in the family since many of them can be considered heirlooms.

Tonight I spent a few hours going through the whole box, which was about 3 feet tall and had maybe a hundred or more pieces in it. I picked out what I like, which was mainly the crystal, and will pass the rest of it on to my brother and his wife.

There's actually a nice set of china that I'll be giving them. Although it is probably expensive, I don't really care for the pattern on the set--much too gaudy for me. But for my brother and sister-in-law, who don't own any fine china, that will be a nice thing to have.

So now I have several different pieces of crystal that I will be packing away until I have a family, or at least a house, of my own, but it was fun going through everything and picking out what I wanted. Sort of like a garage sale in my living room, except I didn't have to pay for any of it. The not spending any money part is nice, really nice.

Window shopping (supposedly)

I'm starting to get excited about moving. I stopped by several stores today with the express purpose of comparing prices on things I'll need: a microwave, a computer desk, a chair for the desk and a bookshelf. That was my intention, at least.

By the time I was done, I had bought a crock pot, some measuring cups and some tupperware (the really cheap kind I won't care if I loose it all). Tomorrow I'm going back to buy a cute bookshelf for $20 at Target (have I ever mentioned my love for all things Target?) and a rolling chair for $20, also at Target. I also scoped out prices for a blender, a mixer and other miscellaneous kitchen items. I already have a George Foreman grill I bought months ago when it was more than half off and I couldn't resist, though it has wallowed under my bed since then. But in a week's time, that little puppy will join all his new kitchen appliance friends in my new townhouse. Wahoo!

It's definitely time to move out, and I always get excited right before a big change. Especially since I'm such a cooking/home decorating nerd. I have to say, most of my stuff, though cheap, is pretty dang cute. It doesn't all match, but hey, when you've been in college for much of the past 8 years, your things develop a random, shabby chic about them.

I figure, though, that now that I have more money and the disposition, I'm going to start buying nicer things. I have nice dishes already, but I never used them for fear that a roommate would break them. Now I'll only have one roommate, and dang it, I want to pamper myself by surrounding myself with nicer things than I have in the past.

I am excited, well, for everything but the moving all my junk part. Unpacking is generally pretty fun because you get to find new places to put everything. This is good. I feel good about the direction my life is headed.

Planning ahead

I like to set goals for myself. It's always something I've done, though generally on small scale, but today in church someone gave a lesson on the importance of setting goals that will help us get where we want to be in life. He said that we have to consider what we want in life and then write down goals that will help us accomplish that.

One thing I hadn't pondered until the discussion today was how the goals I've had related to where I want my life to go. Most of them dealt with how I wanted to improve myself, but none of them addressed the issue of how those goals would help me get to where I want to be. So I spent a good part of the day reviewing those previous goals and really thinking about the direction I want my life to go.

For years I knew exactly what I wanted to do: work and study hard so I can get my degree; land my perfect job as a book editor; move out on my own and enjoy life as a singleton.

Well, I'm there (or very nearly). And that's the brick wall I've been facing for the past few months--what in the world am I supposed to do now that I've accomplished the goals I set for myself?

I want to get married and have a family, but that's not really a goal I can set. There are so many variables involved there, including finding someone I'd want to marry who also wants to marry me. It's much more complicated than I ever thought it'd be.

So that's out, as far as planning goes. It could happen in a few months or even years down the road. I don't know. And that, I think has been a big part of what's keeping me from planning anything tangible because I don't really know where else I want to be in my life.

Taking the time to think it through was a really good thing. I realized that although I couldn't set any goals about when or where or who I'll marry, I can set some specific goals about making sure I'm the person someone will want to marry as well as goals on how I can actually get out and start meeting people. I can also make pointed goals about how I can improve my self-image, which includes getting myself down to a healthy weight. That and improving my mind through reading and study.

One of the most important area of goals, for me at this point in my life, relates to my book. I honestly see my future involving writing more than editing, though I love both. My progression has the most potential as a writer, but unfortunately my fear and self-doubt have kept my hands tied where it comes to my book.

For a long time I've subscribed to the philosophy that I can only write when I feel inspired to do so. I would read advice from other writers about how they force themselves to write every day even when they don't feel like it. I didn't think that was me, it just wouldn't work for me any time I tried it. But now I'm realizing that my book will never get written if I don't force myself a little. It will sit on my computer in the same place it's been for the past few months. So my big goal is to write 5 pages a week and to at least look at some portion of my book or notes every day. I know that doesn't sound very drastic, but for someone who often balks at forced writing, that might be a challenge, at least until I get into the swing of it. And that doesn't mean I can't write more than that when the mood strikes me, but it's a tangible goal I can track and where I can succeed every week even when I have 7 days in a row of off days. I figured out that if I wrote only 5 pages a week, I should have the book done in 7 months--not too shabby for a project that's been in the works for a good 2 years.

I feel good about these goals, and it's helped to re-evaluate where I want my life to go. I'm not sure where my writing will take me, if anywhere, but at least I have a plan in place to move me along closer to where I want to end up.

Happily ever after?

Much of my free time lately has been spent reading, and most of those stories have been fairy tales. Stories filled with adventure, a quest, a curse to break or some other fight to win happiness and love.

I'm not the only one reading them. These stories have been around for generations. Something about them speaks to us, tells us something we want to hear. There is a part of all of us that wants to know that though life is hard, we will come through and win our heart's desire, whether it be fame, fortune or love.

Often people talk about someone having fairy tale life when by all appearances that person has it easy without a care in the world. But that's not really what the fairy tale is about. The easy life doesn't come so easily. First there has to be a struggle, a tragedy that shapes the character's life and forces them to work for what they want. That's a big part of why the stories are so appealing: They have to overcome a big hardship or test before their happy endings come.

I think much of why I like to read these stories is because I'm waiting for my happy ever after. I've been making my way through my trials, my lifelong quest for happiness, and sometimes I feel as though I've earned my happy ending when the struggles finally ceases and the girl finds her true love.

But still it doesn't come, and so I submerge myself in stories where I know that by the time I reach page 344, Beauty will have her Beast and Cinderella will win her Prince Charming. I live vicariously through them because my life is stuck at page 52 in the segue way "and several months passed while she waited . . ."

My life is coming close to a crossroads, though, or at least I hope it is. I want to move forward with the plot, make some discovery that will change the course of the story and introduce the hero, though he may still be in disguise.

Maybe I need to act more like Belle instead of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Instead of waiting for my prince to come rescue me, I should be actively working to educate myself and be content with my surroundings. I always did like Belle the best.

A reading frenzy

I got home two days ago, but honestly, I haven't even turned on my home computer since then. I'm realizing how my life really does go in phases. Some weeks I'll spend hours blogging and playing online, and then there are weeks like the past few where I dive right into books and can't seem to tear myself away from them.

Seattle was fun, by the way. We didn't do much, but it was nice visiting my sister and getting away from work and home for a few days. We did, however, spend all of Friday night and most of Saturday reading a certain book that was recently released.

I've been reading a lot the past few weeks, maybe even a little too much. Looking in my book journal (which is an excellent way to keep track of books I read and want to read, as well as series I'm in the middle of reading but waiting for the next installment to come out) and realized that I've read 6 books since last Wednesday. That's nearly a book a day, and not all of them were thin, either. Some were hefty, like HP, though a couple were little more than a hundred pages each. I most certainly am a bibliophile.

What this tells me, though, is that I really need to get back on a schedule. I can spend all of my evenings reading and neglect everything else around me. Once again I need to learn balance in my life. Balance. Otherwise I'll end up...well, I'm not sure how I'll end up, but it's now how I want to live. Too much of anything will nearly always be bad for you, no matter how good the thing is in and of itself.

So what this means is that my little vacation from blogging is over, and I will once again get back to doing all the things I love, though only a little bit of it at a time.

P.S. In case you were wondering, the books I read this week were:

Spindle's End by Robin McKinley

The Wizard's Apprentice and The Wizard's Scepter, both by Jackie French Koller

Deerskin by Robin McKinley

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling

Fablehaven: Rise of the Evening Star by Brandon Mull

Moving on

Some days, there just isn't anything I want to write about. Well, I've had a few weeks of those days. I spent much more time reading, probably a little too much, but I enjoyed it.

I did end up finding an apartment. I really do hope this is what I've been looking for. My new roommate and I already put a deposit down, though we have yet to sign the contract. I'd thought we had, but I found out that was just to allow them to do a background check. So I should move in around the second week of August. It's a two-story townhouse. Two bed, one bath. I'm really hoping my roommate doesn't care which room she gets, as she said earlier, because I'd really like the bigger one. Call me selfish, but I'd like to have room to breathe.

Either way, it'll be good to be moving on with my life. It's definitely time. The only thing I'm dreading now is packing up all my stuff and moving it. I have moving. After doing that shuffle every year during college, I'm just so tired of it. But I guess no one really likes it; it just has to be done.

I'm not going to move or pack or do anything, though, until I get back from my trip to Seattle. I'm leaving Friday night and will be back Tuesday, so you can expect not to hear from me until then.

P.S. When I planned the trip, I forgot it was Harry Potter weekend. I'd planned to attend a big party with friends, but now my sister says we can go to the party at her local Walmart. Not as exciting as what might be going on in Seattle, but she lives 2 hours away and doesn't want to drive that far late at night. All I care about is buying a copy and reading it before I get to work on Wednesday. There's no way I'll let anyone spoil the ending for me.

Bed time

I feel bad--I've been neglecting my bloggie again. I do promise to be better, but for now it's well past my bedtime. I will say that the Harry Potter movie was good, and the fighting scenes at the end were especially spectacular. Ralph Fiennes does an amazing job as Voldemort, and all the other actors do excellent jobs. I think I'll like it better after I've seen it again. It's always the same with the movie version of a book I love--at first I'm upset that they left out all my favorite parts, but then on later viewing I start to like it for its own merits. I'm sure that'll be the case again. But for now, good night. I'm beat.

Something fun

I'll admit it, I take a lot of these quizzes because I think they're fun, but I don't post them because most people probably don't care. But I found one I think gets me somewhat accurately, and basically because I love the color green.

Your Aura is Green

You're very driven, competitive, and even a bit jealous. However, you seek out balance in your life - and you usually achieve it! The purpose of your life: inspiring others to be better Famous greens include: Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, Martha Stewart Careers for you to try: Guru, CEO, Talk Show Host

What Color Is Your Aura?

About time

These past few Thursdays I just haven't felt like participating as I usually do in Thursday Thirteen. I'm sure I'll return to my normally scheduled programming next week, but for now I just want to blog about what's been going on today. (As a note, I really appreciate having a blog where I can dump all my thoughts and cares. It's wonderfully cathartic.)

Well, I continue to be frustrated living at home and am really anxious to find a place of my own. I realized while talking to my stepmom tonight (I wish my dad would stop telling her exactly what I say. It makes it so I don't want to confide in him because I don't trust him to keep it to himself.) that some of my frustrations aren't necessarily with her, per se, but with the situation. After having lived on my own for so many years, it's extremely difficult to go back home where people tell you what to do or expect you to abide by their rules. So, although I do bristle at the way she asks me to do things, that isn't all that I'm frustrated with. Just having someone expect me to do what they want is irritation enough for me.

It's more than time for me to strike out on my own again, but I finally have the means and the ways to accomplish that. I spoke again to the girl who wants to find a roommate. After the first place fell through, both she and I started looking for other places that would fit within our budgets. Tomorrow we're going to look at one of them. I really hope something works out, and soon. It'll be nice to have my life moving forward again instead of stagnating all the time. It's definitely time.

Bad (hair) karma

There are times where you think that things can't possibly get worse than they've been, and then you go to get your haircut.

Yeah, pretty much this is the ugliest haircut I've ever had. In my life. And I had some pretty bad hair back in the 80s. But this is, oh, so much worse. Think short, not long enough to be a bob, fluffy on top with just enough length on the bottom to give the slightest hint of a mullet. It's absolutely horrid, the kind of a hairstyle you'd see on a woman twice my age. It may be absolutely darling on someone else, but with my face it's all wrong.

I cried for a minute when I got home from having my hair slaughtered but got over it quickly enough. There's nothing I can do but bear it. I can't grin at this point. Maybe I'll forget about it and just do my hair enough in the mornings that I don't gag at the sight of it.

Normally my hairdresser does a great job, but there have been times in the past when I've wondered what she was thinking. Most of the time I've only wondered that when she styled my hair after the cut--the haircuts themselves have always been pretty good. But this time, there are no words to describe how sick I felt when I realized what direction she was going. What I was thinking, and what I thought I told her, was that I wanted to grow my hair out, so I needed more layers to keep it from being too bulky on the sides. We definitely weren't communicating because what I got didn't relate to my vision at all.

Truth be told, I'll probably have her cut my hair again because we've been friends for too many years to split over one lousy haircut. But I'm going to be more careful in my directions in the future. I'll have to come armed with pictures and a clear idea of what I want. No more free rein for her.

So for the next few weeks/months until it grows out again, I can kiss any dating goodbye. Great first impressions? So long, I'll be seeing you, hopefully sooner than later.

Determined

I want things to be easy in my life. That's what I want, but what I get is a completely different matter. Case in point: Today I talked to a nice girl (a friend of a friend) who is looking for a roommate. Perfect, I thought, and she even had a place in mind that was definitely within my budget. So she calls back just a few minutes ago to tell me the perfect place she had wanted to rent had been rented to someone else just 5 minutes before she called. It just wasn't meant to be.

I had thought, or at least really hoped, that once I made my decision to move out, things would fall into place so I could finally move forward with my life. I was wishing for the "beginner's luck" referenced in The Alchemist, for the universe to conspire to help me start on the path. But maybe I'm further along the path than I thought and the beginner's luck has already come and gone, leaving me with the frustrating middle of the road where I have to make hard decisions and wait and keep looking until something finally pans out. Or I could be jumping the gun a bit since I made my final decision a few short days ago.

Thing is, when I make a decision, I like to get moving and make things happen. I don't like to wait around, I don't want to be patient. I want things to work out how I want right now. No, I'm not a patient person, but I can also be determined, which I think is a good trait. Even though I tend to get frustrated, I keep working and working until I reach my goals. I don't give up. Ever. I can't remember a time when I've ever given up on anything that really mattered to me. I persevered until I finally accomplished what I set out to do. And honestly, rarely has anything ever been easy. I've had to work hard for everything I have.

I'm sure to find something, though it may take some time and some hard work to get there. Thinking about it, I tend to appreciate things the harder I have to work to get them, so maybe these little setbacks will only serve to make the situation sweeter was I finally get there.

Restless

I've been so restless these past few days. Every time I have free time, I can't think of anything I really want to do. Read? Meh. Watch a movie? Nothing sounds good. Play on the Internet? What would I look at?

Tonight, after going back and forth for a while on what I actually wanted to do, I finally decided to look at trailers for movies I wanted to see. Well, I spent the next few hours doing that, and then got sucked into looking at all the Harry Potter sites. I have to psych myself up since the movie's coming out this week and the book next week. That's one thing I can get excited about.

I just hope this apathetic phase moves on quickly.

On another, completely random tangent, I was thinking the other day about how whiny I must sound to people who read my blog. I complain a lot, though I never intend to. But I guess that's partly what blogs are for, at least what I use it for: to discuss what's going on in my life, whether it be good or bad. The fact that things weren't going so well for a few months and are starting to turn around now doesn't make me a completely negative person, or at least I hope not. I feel that things are starting to fall into place and the future is looking brighter, though there's still a way to go before everything will be all better. But it does help to have an outlet to vent. So if I come off sounding really whiny, sorry. Wait a bit and that, too, is bound to pass.

On family, haggis and throwing logs

Well, things aren't as bad now. My brother is staying with another brother and my dad says they talked on the phone, but it's probably better all around if he doesn't live here anymore. I also had a talk with my dad and stepmom. I understand a little more their perspective, though I still feel they both acted childishly during the whole blowout and could have handled it all better than they did. There's still a lot they need to learn, such as how to act like adults even when someone upsets you.


I also realized that it does no good trying to help my stepmom see where she needs to improve. She's too sensitive about anything resembling criticism, good or otherwise, so during her long lecture on why everyone needs to see things from her perspective, I nodded my head and didn't say a word. It wouldn't have accomplished anything. So I'm still planning to move out, if just for my own sanity, but now I have a little more time to find a good situation.

Moving on to happier things, my friends from work and I went to a Scottish festival today. We had so much fun, especially since it was four girls (and one blind date) having fun. No, the blind date this time wasn't mine, though I'm not sure what he thought about having a whole group of us there. I guess it all fits in with our habit of crashing dates. I just thought it was funny.

The first thing we did after getting there was to try ourselves some haggis. All of us were a little wary of eating anything that contained sheep brains, intestines and who knows what else, but it was a group dare, so we had to do it. I personally thought it was gross and didn't like the texture, as you can see at right. I'm not sure what it was, but something in there was really squishy. But at least now I can tell people I've eaten haggis. We were all brave today.

There were bagpipes and the caber toss, which involves men throwing 20 foot logs like at left, and henna tattoos and kilts, lots of kilts, and food and music, though we were too late for the dancing. There wasn't anything incredibly dramatic or intriguing, just the whole atmosphere of fun and doing something different. I was also happy that I could buy some more Celtic jewelry, which I absolutely adore. You can never have enough, I say.

It was an enjoyable day spent with friends, and more than makes up for the drama and hysterics of the past few days.