Yes, a winner. Cheers, applause, money thrown in my general direction, all is accepted here. It took some creative juice to finish a story I hate and validate my word count but I did and it's over and I never have to see that horrid story again.
And now that I've said all that, did I mention I'm a winner?
What this really means for all of you is that you get me back here at the Slinky, ranting and raving, rather than writing about whinny characters (Rachel) and having others cry all the time (wait, that's Rachel again, and sometimes Leah). Anywho, I'm done with that novel, back to writing lovely witty and funny blog posts.
In store for you this month I have a holiday rant (or two, or maybe more), a theory about stupidity, I'm sure I'll have a review of the new Narnia movie (can't wait, can't wait) and who knows what else. I've been saving up my ideas because I was either too tired after writing on my novel (which is done, by the way) or too tired from painting to type them up. But don't fear, the fun loving writer you know is back.
Now if I could just find some Valium (note this is a trademarked name, thus the capital letter) to give to the cat...
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
I wanna go home
My friend, Miss Pottenger, recently wrote a blog post about home. She concluded that home is where your parents are. While I can respect that (and I always respect her opinion, after all, we are friends and I am fiercely loyal to my friends), I can't agree with it. Her thoughts and writings usually inspire me and this one proved no different. So now I am going to enlighten you to what I think home is. Here we go.
As a child of divorced parents and a product of a broken home, home to me is not where my parents are. As much as I love my parents, they are not my world. They brought me into the world, yes, but I sprouted wings and have flown the nest. I was in high school (senior year) when they split so I had two parents for most of my "childhood", but starting with college, I had two "homes", two places where my parents were. One was brand new, with no history but with my loving father who adored me, the other was the place I had grown up but full of mistrust and anger. Neither place was home.
Then, dad and I moved into a new house. Despite having all my stuff there and living there, it wasn't really home. It was dad's house, not mine. And I was at a time in my life where I longed for my own place, my own home. Yet every attempt to move out ended in disappointment and crushed dreams. So I resigned myself to living in someone else's house and not having my a home to call my very own.
In 2002, while still living with dad, I took a trip. A long trip over an ocean to another country, Peru. Neither parent went with me (after all, I was 24) and no family to speak of around for miles. Just a few co-workers and a bunch of other people loosely connected to me through Compassion, most of whom I had never met.
I stepped off that plane into the arms of my Peruvian friends, into their culture and lives and country.
I had come home.
I felt at peace in Peru. I fell in love with the people, the culture and even some of the food (not the purple corn juice, but they have some good stuff, I promise). I felt my heart had come to a place at rest, a place where I could just be. My spirit felt free and alive. The hotel room and lobby felt more like home to me than the house where I had lived for six years. I never wanted to leave. But I had to go, had to return to the states and the house where my father lived and all my stuff resided. But I felt like I was leaving home when I got on that plane that carried me over the ocean back to my country of birth.
Life went on. I eventually moved out of my dad's house into the basement of a couple from church. While I felt comfortable there it never felt like home. I've since moved back into my dad's house and it's not home either. But in February, when I got to go back to Peru, I got to go home. It felt so perfect getting off the plane, this time I knew where I was going, what to do. And again I felt peace and comfort. The sounds of the drivers honking at night, the windows that don't close because it never rains, the faces of the Peuvian's smiling at me, it all filled me up and consumed me. I had come home, again.
So, home for me can't be where my parents are. My mom lives in a town I've never been to, my dad is moving to another state. Home isn't where you live or even where you go for holidays. For me, home is where my heart finds peace, comfort, rest and familiarity. It's a state of being, not a place. I may find in my future that home is a tiny island nation or an African village. Maybe it's a hut on a river in Asia or in a tiny apartment in Eastern Europe. Home is the feeling that I belong, that I am safe and that I can be myself. Home can happen at dinner with friends, driving along the interstate in the dead of night or in the place where you live. Maybe it's with your parents, your siblings, your spouse or with your pets, but it may not be with anyone in particular. It may not be four walls and a roof, it could be in a smile, in the smell of morning breeze, in the way the sun hits your face as you walk along the road.
That's home.
I wanna go there, badly. But I'm not sure there is a country road that can take me there...
As a child of divorced parents and a product of a broken home, home to me is not where my parents are. As much as I love my parents, they are not my world. They brought me into the world, yes, but I sprouted wings and have flown the nest. I was in high school (senior year) when they split so I had two parents for most of my "childhood", but starting with college, I had two "homes", two places where my parents were. One was brand new, with no history but with my loving father who adored me, the other was the place I had grown up but full of mistrust and anger. Neither place was home.
Then, dad and I moved into a new house. Despite having all my stuff there and living there, it wasn't really home. It was dad's house, not mine. And I was at a time in my life where I longed for my own place, my own home. Yet every attempt to move out ended in disappointment and crushed dreams. So I resigned myself to living in someone else's house and not having my a home to call my very own.
In 2002, while still living with dad, I took a trip. A long trip over an ocean to another country, Peru. Neither parent went with me (after all, I was 24) and no family to speak of around for miles. Just a few co-workers and a bunch of other people loosely connected to me through Compassion, most of whom I had never met.
I stepped off that plane into the arms of my Peruvian friends, into their culture and lives and country.
I had come home.
I felt at peace in Peru. I fell in love with the people, the culture and even some of the food (not the purple corn juice, but they have some good stuff, I promise). I felt my heart had come to a place at rest, a place where I could just be. My spirit felt free and alive. The hotel room and lobby felt more like home to me than the house where I had lived for six years. I never wanted to leave. But I had to go, had to return to the states and the house where my father lived and all my stuff resided. But I felt like I was leaving home when I got on that plane that carried me over the ocean back to my country of birth.
Life went on. I eventually moved out of my dad's house into the basement of a couple from church. While I felt comfortable there it never felt like home. I've since moved back into my dad's house and it's not home either. But in February, when I got to go back to Peru, I got to go home. It felt so perfect getting off the plane, this time I knew where I was going, what to do. And again I felt peace and comfort. The sounds of the drivers honking at night, the windows that don't close because it never rains, the faces of the Peuvian's smiling at me, it all filled me up and consumed me. I had come home, again.
So, home for me can't be where my parents are. My mom lives in a town I've never been to, my dad is moving to another state. Home isn't where you live or even where you go for holidays. For me, home is where my heart finds peace, comfort, rest and familiarity. It's a state of being, not a place. I may find in my future that home is a tiny island nation or an African village. Maybe it's a hut on a river in Asia or in a tiny apartment in Eastern Europe. Home is the feeling that I belong, that I am safe and that I can be myself. Home can happen at dinner with friends, driving along the interstate in the dead of night or in the place where you live. Maybe it's with your parents, your siblings, your spouse or with your pets, but it may not be with anyone in particular. It may not be four walls and a roof, it could be in a smile, in the smell of morning breeze, in the way the sun hits your face as you walk along the road.
That's home.
I wanna go there, badly. But I'm not sure there is a country road that can take me there...
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
flashback
I was in the breakroom, fixing my lunch, when I was violently whipped back to high school. Two co-workers sat there at a table, and the conversations went something like this (I am not directly quoting here, just a general idea)...
"So, Mary sits next to my boyfriend and tells me I can't sit next to him because she needs to get to know him. And I'm like, no, you don't, he's my boyfriend, he's not here to get to know you."
"Yeah, I heard Sue wants to break up with Jim and Dave is now dating Joan."
"But why does Sue want to break up?"
Me again, now, wasn't that painful? Honestly, I'm glad I'm past all that. If I revert, someone smack me into tomorrow PLEASE.
Okay, I feel better, all happy and grown up and out of high school again.
"So, Mary sits next to my boyfriend and tells me I can't sit next to him because she needs to get to know him. And I'm like, no, you don't, he's my boyfriend, he's not here to get to know you."
"Yeah, I heard Sue wants to break up with Jim and Dave is now dating Joan."
"But why does Sue want to break up?"
Me again, now, wasn't that painful? Honestly, I'm glad I'm past all that. If I revert, someone smack me into tomorrow PLEASE.
Okay, I feel better, all happy and grown up and out of high school again.
Monday, November 14, 2005
evil toyotas
So I'm driving to work this morning, moving along at a nice pace, when the road narrows down to two lanes. Usually not a problem as there is less traffic. But this gold Toyota truck pulls in front of me and starts slowing down for no apparent reason. Thinking he might be getting ready to pull into the turn lane, I wait. Then I notice he is not turning and other cars are pulling in ahead of him. He's just going slow.
I pull around him, and continue on. Not two minutes later, I meet up with another gold Toyota, same looking truck except this one has a support our troops sticker on it. And this one is also going slower than molasses. I go to move around him when first truck pulls up and boxes me in.
Neither one would hit the speed limit and they held up me and half the town driving all the way down Powers.
Darn Toyota drivers (with apologizes to my sister, who drives a silver Toyota truck).
Anywho. Crazy weekend of painting and not much writing. I'm not behind on words just yet but I no longer have my five day margin I was trying to keep.
But I have yummy tea to keep me typing away.
Now it's time to cook dinner, then back to the keyboard for more words. Need to hit at least 2500 tonight to make up for the sad 1500 I did this weekend (that's over 3 days!).
May the road angels smile on you and keep the evil drivers away.
I pull around him, and continue on. Not two minutes later, I meet up with another gold Toyota, same looking truck except this one has a support our troops sticker on it. And this one is also going slower than molasses. I go to move around him when first truck pulls up and boxes me in.
Neither one would hit the speed limit and they held up me and half the town driving all the way down Powers.
Darn Toyota drivers (with apologizes to my sister, who drives a silver Toyota truck).
Anywho. Crazy weekend of painting and not much writing. I'm not behind on words just yet but I no longer have my five day margin I was trying to keep.
But I have yummy tea to keep me typing away.
Now it's time to cook dinner, then back to the keyboard for more words. Need to hit at least 2500 tonight to make up for the sad 1500 I did this weekend (that's over 3 days!).
May the road angels smile on you and keep the evil drivers away.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
watch the words fly by
Hello my dear friends. It's been a while. Forgive me. I've been frantically writing away on my novel for NaNo. And it's going well. I passed 19000 words tonight. I've averaged over 2000 a day (even without writing last Friday due to a hockey game, but more on that later) and had my highest per hour writing this month with a whopping 2406 in one hour on Saturday.
Last week I hosted our first write-in for Colorado Springs. We have three, me, myself and I. An entertaining group to be sure, but not too moral boosting. Thankfully, tonight we had four, and the other three people were all new NaNo's! Three people who aren't part of our our core group!! It was lovely to meet them. And I got another 2300 words pounded out.
Speaking of pounding, I have to figure out something to give our new pastor, a pound of something non-perishable and good. It's our way of saying "welcome, we like you, please have a ton of food to start you off here." Nice thought but I don't think they realize how many people we have... might actually be a "ton" of stuff!
Anywho, I mentioned hockey, didn't I? I did. Last Friday I took my buddy, Jake, to the CC hockey game. My first hockey game. I knew hockey to be violent sport, and I can handle that. What I didn't realize is how very unsportsman like the crowd at a hockey game would be. I was a cheerleader back in the day and I learned that you can cheer against the other team, but you never EVER boo them. Apparently, the hockey crowd missed the lesson on being nice and do unto others part of kindergarten. I'm ready to send them all back so they can catch this most important lesson.
So, I lived through my first hockey experience, I learned a few things since Jake is a fan and was ready to share his knowledge.
Okay, it's almost time for dinner (yes, a bit late) and maybe write another hundred words. If I can type 500 more tonight I'll break 20000!
Later.
Last week I hosted our first write-in for Colorado Springs. We have three, me, myself and I. An entertaining group to be sure, but not too moral boosting. Thankfully, tonight we had four, and the other three people were all new NaNo's! Three people who aren't part of our our core group!! It was lovely to meet them. And I got another 2300 words pounded out.
Speaking of pounding, I have to figure out something to give our new pastor, a pound of something non-perishable and good. It's our way of saying "welcome, we like you, please have a ton of food to start you off here." Nice thought but I don't think they realize how many people we have... might actually be a "ton" of stuff!
Anywho, I mentioned hockey, didn't I? I did. Last Friday I took my buddy, Jake, to the CC hockey game. My first hockey game. I knew hockey to be violent sport, and I can handle that. What I didn't realize is how very unsportsman like the crowd at a hockey game would be. I was a cheerleader back in the day and I learned that you can cheer against the other team, but you never EVER boo them. Apparently, the hockey crowd missed the lesson on being nice and do unto others part of kindergarten. I'm ready to send them all back so they can catch this most important lesson.
So, I lived through my first hockey experience, I learned a few things since Jake is a fan and was ready to share his knowledge.
Okay, it's almost time for dinner (yes, a bit late) and maybe write another hundred words. If I can type 500 more tonight I'll break 20000!
Later.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
lost bunnies and time-shifting thoughts
Why is it that I spent a month in utter anticipation to start writing and now that November is here I want to write every story BUT the one I picked? I don't get it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm writing my story about Jacob and Rachel and Leah. I just think that the 6000+ words I've written thus far may hit the scrap heap upon the first rewrite. It's a lot backstory that I don't need but I have to write it to know where I'm coming from. Once I get them all married things should pick up. And it's fun to see them developing. Just not as gung ho as I thought I was a month ago.
So, you ask, what on earth is the title of this post about? Well, the other night while driving down Powers, I stopped at the light at Constitution. And what do I see in front of my car? A little rabbit, in the middle of the street, making like the wind for the island where the light pole stands. I could tell the poor animal was scared out of his wits. He wanted to cross the right turn lane but lots of cars kept coming. I so wanted to get out of the car and pick the poor thing up and bring him home. (How many poors is that?) If I thought I could have snagged him before the light changed I would have. Alas, alack, I couldn't.
And the time-shifting... well. Again, driving, this time, downtown. I look down a side street and I see this fountain like structure in the middle of the next intersection. I have NEVER seen this structure before and wonder how on earth I've missed it. So out comes this story idea about a woman who can see structures from the past but she is in the present. Something to do with real time and God's time and how the two overlap and time isn't linear and all that jazz. I want to explore this but alas, alack, I have another story that demands my attention this month.
Well, it's about bed time and I need some major sleep. Tomorrow night I'm taking my buddy Jake to a hockey game. I'm sure he'll teach me all sorts of stuff that I will promptly forget as soon as I get home, but hey, you are only eight once. The kid should be spoiled by me and that is just what I plan to do.
Goodnight, sweet void.
Don't get me wrong, I'm writing my story about Jacob and Rachel and Leah. I just think that the 6000+ words I've written thus far may hit the scrap heap upon the first rewrite. It's a lot backstory that I don't need but I have to write it to know where I'm coming from. Once I get them all married things should pick up. And it's fun to see them developing. Just not as gung ho as I thought I was a month ago.
So, you ask, what on earth is the title of this post about? Well, the other night while driving down Powers, I stopped at the light at Constitution. And what do I see in front of my car? A little rabbit, in the middle of the street, making like the wind for the island where the light pole stands. I could tell the poor animal was scared out of his wits. He wanted to cross the right turn lane but lots of cars kept coming. I so wanted to get out of the car and pick the poor thing up and bring him home. (How many poors is that?) If I thought I could have snagged him before the light changed I would have. Alas, alack, I couldn't.
And the time-shifting... well. Again, driving, this time, downtown. I look down a side street and I see this fountain like structure in the middle of the next intersection. I have NEVER seen this structure before and wonder how on earth I've missed it. So out comes this story idea about a woman who can see structures from the past but she is in the present. Something to do with real time and God's time and how the two overlap and time isn't linear and all that jazz. I want to explore this but alas, alack, I have another story that demands my attention this month.
Well, it's about bed time and I need some major sleep. Tomorrow night I'm taking my buddy Jake to a hockey game. I'm sure he'll teach me all sorts of stuff that I will promptly forget as soon as I get home, but hey, you are only eight once. The kid should be spoiled by me and that is just what I plan to do.
Goodnight, sweet void.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
third time's a charm
Cross your fingers, hold your breath and pray that this works.
I tried updating Sunday night and Monday night to no avail. And both times Blogger lost my post (what happened to autosave?) and I forgot what every wonderful witty report that I created so I have to start from scratch.
Sorry, water is boiling, time to make the tea...
Okay, tea is steeping. So, I went to WY this weekend and painted. We got the master suite done (bath, hallway/sink area and room). Not as much as we hoped for but the paint wasn't as easy as Dad thought it would be (thick and temperamental) and it required two coats. I'll be going back up in two weeks to do more. The sooner we get it painted the sooner he can move!
I'm in love with this new tea company, Adagio Tea. Loose leaf tea is the way to go, and now that I'm there, I can't see going back. Let me know if you want a $5 gift certificate to give them a try.
Panera opened in the last few days so I stopped there for supper (and breakfast, I got a bagel and cream cheese for the morning!). Their soups are pretty good and I love the bagels.
So, I should be writing on my novel. This lovely set of words won't count. So I'll be going now. Have a lovely evening. Wish the muse in my direction!!
I tried updating Sunday night and Monday night to no avail. And both times Blogger lost my post (what happened to autosave?) and I forgot what every wonderful witty report that I created so I have to start from scratch.
Sorry, water is boiling, time to make the tea...
Okay, tea is steeping. So, I went to WY this weekend and painted. We got the master suite done (bath, hallway/sink area and room). Not as much as we hoped for but the paint wasn't as easy as Dad thought it would be (thick and temperamental) and it required two coats. I'll be going back up in two weeks to do more. The sooner we get it painted the sooner he can move!
I'm in love with this new tea company, Adagio Tea. Loose leaf tea is the way to go, and now that I'm there, I can't see going back. Let me know if you want a $5 gift certificate to give them a try.
Panera opened in the last few days so I stopped there for supper (and breakfast, I got a bagel and cream cheese for the morning!). Their soups are pretty good and I love the bagels.
So, I should be writing on my novel. This lovely set of words won't count. So I'll be going now. Have a lovely evening. Wish the muse in my direction!!
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