What did I do today?

Slept. I took a sleeping pill because I've been having a spot of insomnia. I took it at around 4am. I slept until about 4pm. That was the whole day. I didn't write. I didn't read anything... well, I did a couple of pages of Heart of Darkness. Then we went to Ruby Tuesdays to eat with a couple of friends. One friend just got back from a mission trip. Then we went to the Douglass Theatre to hear Jeff Lang. If you get a chance to hear him play, you should. If you love live music and want to hear a guitar genius/master/virtuoso, you have to hear him play. He's from Australia and he was funny. It was funny watching my husband and his friend listening to him. They're both musicians and they were blown away. His second song in, they both were sat completely back in their chairs, arms pushed straight out with hands on their knees, with equal looks of incredulity. Then they started giggling like little boys. This part lasted a good three songs. It was almost more entertaining for me to watch them (and the rest of the audience) than listening to the music. But the music was awesome. By the way, the Ruby Tuesdays in the mall is going downhill. I remember a time when I used to look forward to going there, getting the black bean and chicken penne pasta dish, salad bar, which was the lord of all salad bars, and just sitting back and enjoying the ambience. Don't get me wrong, it's still a chain, but it was a pretty good one. But tonight, I tasted the worst burger I've ever tasted, the one with the different kinds of good beef ground together. I ordered the turkey burger, but I should have just stuck with the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich with bleu cheese dressing. The bun on my turkery burger was so big, it must have weighed a pound. It was huge! Taste wise, it was okay though.

That was my day. Uninteresting until Jeff Lang, then back to normal. But the sleep was definitely good... of course, that means I won't be going to sleep tonight until after 4am again. Oh well, we'll figure something out.

New Baby

Last night, my husband brought home a new baby. He's not mine yet, but I have high hopes. He had to be cleaned up a bit, we'll probably have to get a new battery, and I'm hoping to get one of those fancy schmancy stands that swivel as well, but I may soon have a brand new used computer.

It's so purty! It's nice and has a grey case and is small. I thought I'd hate a small computer. I'm always looking at the widescreens, but when I was playing with Mac last night (that's his name, Mac), I not only liked it, but it was a great complement to my office because its screen was everything I have now, but it was small enough to see the television screen without stretching or sitting at odd angles. I can watch and type at the same time!

My husband has told me several times which computer it is. It's a 12" Powerbook. If I can find a picture, I'll scrounge it up for you. I'm really excited about it. It's much faster, so I can do all my searching, watching, listening and writing without the irritating lag I've experienced with my Dell. I'm so happy right now... I could cry... but I don't do that.

I'm Sorry

Now that I've become a big time television watcher writer, I act like I don't have time to update you guys. I should have time, as much time as I spend on this computer, but I don't. I think it's just that I don't take the time, like I'm doing now. There is absolutely no reason for anyone to keep coming here if I publish once a month and some of you rely on this site (or my Xanga) to keep up with me. Well, I have to admit, I use Xanga more because a majority of my family is on it, but I will not forget you 3 people who check this site to see what's up.

So, what's up? Not much. We're broke because I'm not making any money. I am choking on finding a paying writing job. What I do know how to get started doing, I don't think I'm ready for it and what I think I could do, I don't know how to break in. I'm just going to have to start failing so that I can get used to the feeling and get over the fear. I am definitely growing in the writing department (with many edits). I am beginning to think again. I know that sounds weird and if I've already written this, I'm sorry you have to hear it again, but I feel like I put my brain on hold for a long time and it's amazing to me that I did it. Now that it's opening up, it's craving reading material. I am reading (bigben, you should get your book back real soon... well, I should be done soon, I don't know how soon we will be up there) more, writing more, having more ideas. The other day, I had other people in my head again, carrying on conversations, almost like I used to have all the time, but these people were too far away for me to hear them and write it down. I am also getting alot of information, learning the things that interest me, trying to keep up with the trends of these interests. The funny thing is I thought of my interests and wrote them down, and when I asked my husband what he thought my interests were, he doubled my list because I just hadn't considered some things I do all the time as true interests. Like food. I love food, finding new recipes, cooking, etc., but I never considered it a write-able interest because I think of it as something I do for us. I want to try different things to increase my skill as a cook, not write about it. But I can write about it, I discovered. It's just things like this that I've always loved and now I get to look at it in a different way.

I'm still getting published in the 11th Hour and Macon Food. I'm writing in MF for Joshua Cup. I'd like to do more promotional writing, maybe write profiles for bands, something like that. I definitely want to write television show reviews, heck, a television show period. I need to find a director who not only loves my writing, but is willing to work with me on any project that I come up with. Of course, this would mean woring extremely hard for no money, so that's why the director has to want it too. I can find the actors, I can find other writers, I can find places to film, I can even find places to show it and if it is well received, even some funding.

Ah well, this day goes well. I've been going to sleep at 6am, which doesn't bode well for getting up at 9am or 10am... or on Wednesdays, 8:30am. I wish I could go to sleep earlier and get up earlier. I still have so much work to do, but most of the day is gone before I get up and then my television viewing and reviewing time comes and that's it until tomorrow. Watching 2-5 shows a night (and writing about them) is alot of work. But it's exciting to me, and when I get comments from people where conversations are sparked, or people just love what I've written, it's awesome for me. Anyway, that's it for today. See you tomorrow!

Happy Anniversary

Star Trek is 40.

Oprah is 20... the show, not the woman. So is Aliens (the movie, not the beings)

I,and Charlie's Angels (again, the television show, not the women, no matter what they wanted us to think at the Emmys), am 30.

To many round numbers.

It's crazy when the things you loved age you. I remember watching Oprah as a youngster. It didn't seem so long ago, a few seasons, but suddenly it's 20 years that she's being doing this. And what have I been doing? Following a dream, long deferred by time or my stubborn indifference. Time is not a shallow river, or slow moving, but swift and dangerous. Will I be safe in the transport I've chosen, or will it be dashed against the rocks, spilling me and all my efforts unmercifully into the rapids? But I'll be alright. I've chosen this course when I could have stayed on the ground. I picked this option when it was put before me. I'll accept the consequences be it journey's end or a bruising soak. There will be no drowning. I've got my life vest and enough sense to hold my breath if I go under.

Where Are Your Shoes?

Every day, I get emails from a group I'm a part of that helps me keep some priorities straight. When I am writing/online looking things up, I tend to think of nothing else and suddenly, it's 8pm or 10 o'clock and time to eat/watch tv/make the bed. I don't clean, or straighten like I should. So this site reminds me that I want to do these things and if they're not already done, I do them.

One of the reminders is for me to put on my shoes. The idea is that if you have on your shoes, you are more professional in your conversation, you are ready to leave at a moment's notice, you are prepared for the day.

I am not a shoe person. I wear flip-flops during the summer. Almost exclusively. If I have to walk around downtown, then I wear sneakers, but I absolutely hate doing so. There is no way I'm going to be sitting at home in shoes when my feet can be free. I felt bad for a while because the site has helped so much in other areas. My home is cleaner, I don't feel so overwhelmed when it comes to housework, and I am able to do what needs to be done and concentrate on my work when my housework is done. And even though my home is by no means spotless, my daily housework gets done. So, maybe I should put on the shoes so that my professionalism would know no bounds. Today, I realized something.

I don't need shoes to be more professional, to be ready to go. I can easily walk outside with no shoes on and feel fine, no shame in it. So what have I always used to signify that I am working? What do I do at the end of the day that is my signal that my work is done, I can relax? It has be taking off my bra.

Now, I hate bras almost as much as I hate shoes, but since the unfortunate growing incident of 2003, I have had to wear bras. Where once I didn't, now I do. So I have decided I am in professional mode when I get up and, along with all my other activities, I put on a bra before I start my day at the computer. When it it time to watch tv when my day is done, it's off with the bra. And really, it is my biggest reminder that I am working. When I worked outside of the home, being home was bra-less time. Not so much anymore. So when they ask where my shoes are for the day, I will make sure I have on my bra before I start making up people who live in a universe only I create.

Spam

I hate getting spam, but if you're going to send it to me, at least spell erexxxion correctly!

Wikipedia Laugh of the Day

I went to Wikipedia to look up the movie Frequency. When I got to the end, I found this gem:

A similar plot was used in the TV soap opera Port Charles in 2001, with Frank Scanlon (Jay Pickett) using a 1973 computer to warn a girl named "Cookie" not to sleep with Scott Baldwin (Kin Shriner) after a high school dance, but this prevents the birth of his present-day girlfriend, Dr. Karen Wexler (Marie Wilson). In typical soap opera fashion, however, the plot gets more convoluted, with the now-never-existing Karen being the only possible bone-marrow donor for her dying mother, and Frank seeks out a voodoo priest to send him back in time to keep Cookie from using the computer to talk to him in the future.

What? A real storyline for a soap opera? For serious?

Published Writer

That's me. Some of you may have missed my story on the Dempsey Hotel in the 11th Hour. That's okay. There's http://www.11thhouronline.com for you to go to so if I were to have other stories, especially feature stories, you could read it there. I think they just disable the stories when that two weeks is up. Sorry I didn't tell you guys about it (the both of you). I also have an advert piece in Macon Food for the coffee shop I used to work for.

Now that I'm published, pray that I begin to get paid for it! Or don't.

As ifner it was a Sprite

For some strange reason, I've always thought Ginger Ale was some generic, hybrid off shoot of the carbonated lemon-lime beverage, like Sprite or Sierra Mist - or maybe a weird mixture with 7up. I don't know how I came to this opinion, but the other day, I was proven dramatically wrong. Dramatically, because what was common knowledge to everyone else was about to kick me in the teeth. I poured myself a glass of Ginger Ale and proceeded to gulp it down like I would have it was Sprite. That Ginger Ale basically tried to kick my butt on the way down my throat. It was so strongly carbonated, so intense, I almost shouted and cried from the strength of it. The Honey, standing, watching me (probably laughing at my faces) was there as further proof when I said, "I didn't know it was that strong." "What'd you think it was like?" he asked. "Sprite," I said. He walked away, laughing and shaking his head. Now, two weeks later, I am able to enjoy my Ginger Ale on the same level as Sprite. While it has definitely weakened, it still has enough fizz to make me believe it's all good.

Good Lord!

Someone's getting serious about drinking and driving. Check out these new ads.

Courtesy of Kevin

Abstinence Education

I teach abstinence education, which is hard, not only because the kids I talk to don't really believe in it, but most of the adults don't either. The adults usually give me this look, like I'm too idealistic. They tell me that kids can't/won't control themselves, so it is our responsibility to teach them how to be safer. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one being realistic. I look at the things that are happening to people who start on this path and it makes me sad that other people aren't themselves educated. And if they do know the risks, it makes me sad that it's more than education that people need to protect themselves.

I always feel this white hot ball of anger rise up when people tell me that youth can't choose to be abstinent. I know that in the neighborhoods where I teach/speak, kids choosing abstinence is on the low side. People talk about education being the way out of the rise in STDs and teen pregnancy, yet the same people are continually recreating dangerous behaviour. They need more than education. They need role models. They need someone who will show them that its possible to go another route.

But it's more than a "someone shows up in your neighborhood" kind of thing. It's something that involves everyone. From artists who have a much larger influence on the population than they could imagine to the speakers who spend an hour of their lives once with 500 people, there needs to be some sort of recognition of the state of youth, why they believe they are safe and what happens once they realize they're not.

All of that to say that whenever I teach teenagers I have a hell of a time getting through to them and when I do, it's so rewarding. I had to teach a group of teens the other day, only the boys this time and I dreaded it. When tall the kids are together, they cannot be handled with kid gloves. Sometimes voice raising comes in handy. Well, this time, it's me in the room with a bunch of boys who are more than happy to talk about sex. I easily have their attention as I ask questions and they give the correct answer, although we venture into other areas, because the program I work with focuses on the things you want to do instead of sex. I'm not talking about taking a cold shower, I'm talking about the future goals you have so that sex is the last thought on your mind because you want to get your degree or a house or just your own car before you have to think about providing for a baby. We also teach those "safety" measure that somehow always find at least one chance to fail because they are not 100% effective; yes, they hear about them. We don't discriminate. We want to reduce and/or stop the ravages of disease. ARrrrrgh... digression.

Anyway, we get off topic and start talking about video games. One kid says, "Mrs. This Girl, you don' t look like the type to play video games." I'm not. He is absolutely correct. They all laughed when I described myself as a nerd. They didn't believe it because now i'm a babe, but I told them about my problems with the Sunshine world on Gamecube and this digression must have been God sent because they opened up to me in a way I'd never had a group of teen guys do. Now, I realize that without girls to try to impress, I got them alot more down to earth than they would ever be with girls present, but it was nice and refreshing. And when, at the end of the class, one of the guys was talking to me and *listening* to what I was saying, his face earnest, I felt more rewarded than I'd ever felt in this job.

This reminds me of my wedding pictures...

from A Socialite's Life

When we got our wedding pictures, I remember looking through them and wondering how in the world my husband could look so perfect while I looked like I was trying to regurgitate a cat. This heartens me. Apparently, being good looking doesn't make you any more camera ready than the rest of us. Unless you're Gabriel Aubry... or The Honey.

P.S. My husband, he looks better than this man.

P.P.S. Click on link to see a bigger picture.

Blogged with Flock

Summer's Here

It's hot as hell. I find myself wondering if it has always been this hot here. I know it has, yet I wonder why I block it, like some dark secret from my past. Somehow, I find myself in the heat and I feel like I'm there more than I've ever been. I try to think back to times when I was actually doing things in this heat, swimming or tennis with humidity so high, every adult is on stroke watch. I remember those time, but I can't feel those times.

We had another couple visit us this weekend. I thought grilling out would be the easiest thing. A few hotdogs, brats, hamburgers, enjoying the lake, that would be awesome. Of course, it would have been more awesome if we had done it two months ago instead of this past Saturday. Not only was it extremely hot (I heard 99 degrees, but my stars it had to be hotter than that), I was out in the heat all day. The best part was the conflagration that was my grill. Add the heat of the day and I think I tanned a shade darker in 10 minutes, right when my charcoal briquets started to get that nice ash around them. Yet my first, big girl "all by myself" grilling experience went well. I want my own grill so that I can sit in the air conditioning while food is grilling, but enjoy the lake view if I want, because no matter what anyone says, sweat is sweat, whether we southern girls also "glisten" or not.

Long Time Coming

I love my new toenail polish. I notice my feet and I remember how much I like them. I like my feet. They have been the one thing about my body that I've consistently liked. It feels good to have something other than pink sparkle on my toes. I'm concentrating on my toes, looking at them so long, they almost become alien. Two friends of mine are having babies soon. One of them already has a two year old son, who is beautiful and smart. The other friend got married six months after I did. She's due in six months. I haven't felt this close and this far from grown up, ever. All of my friends are married. They're having kids and becoming entirely different people. Change has to happen, and it's interesting to see what is changing. One of my friends, J., said that I'd lost my edge. I didn't agree with him initially because I felt the same. It wasn't until later that I realized I had lost a bit of my edge simply because I didn't need it to protect me anymore. I'd finally met someone who was doing it all for me. I didn't ever realize I'd stop protecting myself, that I'd subconsciously given my husband permission to do so, and that I could let him do it without worrying that he wouldn't do a good job.

Marriage isn't the only thing that causes change. Time. Age. Sensibility. Even if you don't change as a result of new things in your own life, you are forced to change because of the people around you. My friends no longer had me all to themselves. My mom was no longer the strongest voice in my life. They had to adapt. So what's the biggest change you've had to make? What's the biggest change someone has made because of you? What was the biggest influence for change in your life?

When I look at my feet, I'm glad I still like them. My body is changing because I'm getting older, my metabolism is slowing down and my sedentary lifestyle and mediocre eating habits are getting the better of the rest of my body. I am trying to honor my body and live a good, long life (I still intend to enjoy it) by exercising and changing my diet. But my feet are still pretty. The green polish is radiant on my toes. They are pretty and I'm glad that hasn't changed.

Writers Write

Writing is such a big deal and I feel, everyday, as if I am falling flat on my face. Despite not having to work, I still feel like I don't have enough time to do all the things that I should be doing to be a successful writer. I don't read like I should, I watch more tv than anybody I know personally. Though I would like to write television shows, I hated living in California. So right now, the best I can hope for when it comes to television writing is a bunch of people who want so badly to write, direct and produce a television show that they are willing to do it for no pay with their own money. It is an expensive and time consuming endeavor. I would do it in a heartbeat.

The problem, mainly, is that I don't know which direction I want to go in. Writing articles is the way most writers go because it's instant gratification... well, instant as in you get paid per article, you don't necessarily have to have an agent, you can track down the work yourself, etc. Writing books requires an enormous investment of time, and may or may not be successful. It is harder to find an agent, a market, etc. Yet while finding a direction is a problem, my second problem is wanting to see the way RightNow. It is disconcerting to be in a place where the possible results of my work aren't even conceivable. I do not know where I am going. I have no idea what my goal is. When I worked at the milk and cookie shop, I knew that I wanted to manage it, so all of my thoughts, work, everything went to making that goal a reality. What is my new forward momentum now? What is my new direction?

I tell people I want to be a writer. They say, what do you write. I don't know where to begin. I dabble in short stories (I've been writing short stories since I was 13. Before that I wrote poetry.) and have a wonderful opportunity to work on article writing, but I let my writing muscles atrophy because I let myself believe what countless people told me growing up. Don't be a writer, be a teacher. I tried that route, but was not satisfied in it, although I love to teach and my ultimate goal involves teaching and writing. No, what was not satisfying was that I felt I should stifle my writing urges because I knew, otherwise, they would take over. It is not a pretty thing to give in to the voices in your head. I told my husband once that I would have stories going on in there all the time, characters talking, actions being acted out, for good or evil. I worked hard to stop it and one day the stories stopped. I regret that now.

I don't know how to turn it back on, to reach into the recesses for the people who lived there, whose lives were entertaining, where things happened so quickly I couldn't write it down. It was an ongoing story line. My dreams are even wimping out on me, not providing the fodder for writing they once did. As I look back through old notebooks of old stories, I cringe, but I long for the time when I wrote what I saw, good or bad, and was able to craft them into the stories that made my family believe in me even when there was no other evidence to support that belief.

So I will follow the mantra that many writers follow: Writers write. There is nothing else to do. There is no other course. And with the writing must come the patience to let myself develop from this ugly writing duckling into a beautiful author swan.

Obsessions

I have had various obsessions over the years. They usually involve some sort of cheese product (cheetos, chees-ums, cheese) or chocolate (peanut butter m&ms, regular m&ms, chocolate). I had a strange obsessions with Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds that was almost possessive. I would always have at least two boxes in the house. Anyway, the real reason you're here: My current obsessions.

Right now, I would really like a shiny new MacBook. I have been looking forward to this since before MacWorld in January. I've been wanting a new laptop and thought about getting an iBook. After they got rid of the eMacs and came out with the new iMacs, my husband realized they were probably going to upgrade the iBook, so I waited... and waited... and waited. I got up early on that Tuesday, waiting to hear Steve Jobs announce the new iBook. What he introduced was the MacBook Pro and while I would have loved to get one of those, I didn't need (nor could I afford) a professional strength laptop. No, I wanted the less expensive, consumer model. I was so disappointed. I'm not sure If I'd ever been so disappointed by electronics. Every whisper of an Apple Event made me long for the new iBook. Then, quietly, Apple slides the new iBook, all shiny and white (and black if you'd like) onto their website without any fanfare and again, I'm brought to tears, but the happy kind. So, we are going to a wedding this weekend and on the way back, we will stop at the Apple Store and I will get to tap my fingers across the very beautiful, simple keyboard and ask my silly, technewb questions and nerd out about the writing software I can get for it and maybe, if the sun is shining, I will get a new MacBook and if the sun isn't, then I will get it in a few months when it is much more reasonable. But obsessions aren't reasonable and I'm sorry, honey, for always talking about it.

So, your turn. And if you're scared that your obsession is closer to my cheese obsession than to my MacBook obsession, then here's my other obsession. Magic Shell. Especially Reese's Magic Shell. Even though there is no peanut butter in the recipe, nor does it warn against peanut allergies, so, scary. But it's so good and slightly addictive. As we all know. Now share. Thanks!

Last Meal

I have an affinity to Asian foods. The sauces, the noodles. I love Japanese foods, spicy Thai foods. I tried crab rangoon once and now my judgement of a restaurant rests on their crab rangoon. I adore Italian food. It is the ultimate in guilty pleasure. Pasta, cheese, cheese, meats, sauces. Italian food is my comfort food, food I nominated most likely to make me smile on a rainy night. Of course, there's nothing like hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill, traditional southern food, fried chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes, sweet tea, sweet potato pie, barbecued pork...

I love food, from great to small. It would be hard for me to choose my last meal, the last meal I would ever have to taste, the last thing that I have in my memory, from my memories of the life I've lived. The last meal started as kind of a karmic/superstitious attempt by the law enforcement group to have a clear conscience in putting a criminal to death. It was a time of celebration because the prisoner's acceptance of the food said he forgave them for what they were about to do. It was the prisoner's last chance to be with family, to experience the life they threw away.

My choice of food would have alot to do with the life I've lived, starting from when I was little until now. Foods that I've eaten at important times of my life, foods that have garnered praise for me. For me, this will take alot of thought. What about you? What would you last meal be, or include?

Am I Crazy...

... or are the new Mac ads hilarious? After watching them all a couple of time, the virus one is the funniest.

Of course, Mac is following in a long line of commercials that feature the preferred product as the young, slightly tossled hipster and the competing product as a slightly more fuddy duddy character. Based on the commercial, it is hilarious how clueless PC makers and users are. The fact that these commercials will go much further than researching products in changing the minds of the public about Macs is good for Mac and sad for us.

Most people I know hate their PCs. They get tired of the crashing, the viruses, the constant ad-mail checks, etc. They want something that just works. Yet most of these people never consider Macs because they are more comfortable with windows. Let me tell you, it would take less time to learn the new OS X operating system and save you frustration in the long run than it would take using AVG to scan your computer for viruses.

So, Bravo, Mac. Your use of current trends to turn people to you will work. Hopefully, it will not change the way you make computers.

Jesus, Judas, Spring Festivals

I haven't read the Gospel of Judas, but I've read all about other people reading about it. They have some interesting hypotheses, one of which is that Jesus commissioned Judas to betray him. There's just one problem with that theory in my mind.

The hanging.

Now, I can understand where it all comes from. Nobody wants a bad guy in the story of Jesus. Judas was just doing what Jesus said, blah blah blah. But let me tell you something. I've often been the bearer of bad news for others who have maligned me because I believed that what needed to be said or done was encouraged by the Holy Spirit. Now, believe me or not, that's not the issue. This is not a debate as to whether God speaks now or not or how He speaks when He does. This is an issue of stance. If the God of the Universe tells me to do something, something I would write about, I damn well won't be hanging myself because you don't like it.

Now, the secret knowledge that Jesus gave to Judas. You mean the same secret knowledge He gave to all the disciples, or just the secret knowledge that Judas took to the grave. Was this secret knowledge not worth living for, worth sharing. You'd think someone who had Christ's secret knowledge would also have is mission. Or does it insinuate that Judas only mission was getting Jesus killed for the sake of all eternity and salvation.

Some people say that Jesus telling Judas to betray Him is not outside of what scripture already reveals, and I agree. But scripture also tells us that Judas fulfills scripture by buying the land and killing himself. I don't think killing remorse is a sign of special revelation.

Maybe I'm just crazy.

A church I know is having a Spring Festival for Easter. And that makes me laugh.

I love candy and I love routine. I like knowing that every year, there is something I'm doing. So that means, every Easter season, I'm on the look out for Whoppers Robin Eggs. If you've never had them, then you are truly missing out.

My mom used to always have whoppers in the house. You know, the chocolate covered malt balls in what looks like it could be a milk container, but all the wrong colours. They were special treats and if we were spry enough, we could sneak more than she'd give away. One year, when I was buying my own candy, I spied a bag of Whoppers Robin Eggs and thought to give them a try. They have been a tradition ever since, about ten years now. It's kind of an obsession, the way I keep and eye out for them whenever supermarkets start throwing up pastel on one aisle. It's way cheaper to get them at Walmart and sometimes you have to because Kroger runs out. But what I like to do is buy them when they're 50 cents on sale after Easter. I pick up two bags of them and I'm satisfied for at least two day after Easter. I'm addicted.

This year, I passed the addiction on. The Honey had never had them. 4 bags later, he's eating them like he came up with them and that makes me happy. But hey, I'm not the only one obsessed with Whopper Eggs. You can even buy them on Ebay. However, I don't buy them later than the day after Easter, because otherwise, why else would I look forward to Easter?

SuperBusy

That's what I think my new superhero name should be.

I'm driving myself crazy with busy-ness and sometimes I feel like I will shut down at any second. I don't have the will to stop doing all the things I am doing.

I've been working out. Although I feel good about my body, it is killing me. When I started, when I felt less stressed, I would come away from a workout feeling re-energized. But now, I am just more exhausted. At least I get so tired that I go to sleep alot earlier than usual. I'm hoping that after May, I will be out of that cycle.

I'm keeping some of my writing goals that I make daily. I'm teaching myself to write the things I want to write, I'm working on my television scripts. I actually sat down and went through the paper for story ideas. I think I'm going to subscribe to the Sunday New York Times. I got alot of ideas from a couple of weeks ago. The AJC is good too, but not as diverse. It could be better though. I still don't have a specific time I sit and write, nor the discipline that I need for doing the type of writing I want to do. I'll get it though.

We are moving. Our new apartment is being worked on now and we will move in completely by May 1, but they are trying to get it ready by mid April. So, I will have to start using my free time (ha!) to start packing/throwing things away. I have alot of books. And clothes. And junk. I feel sorry for me.

I don't know what I'm doing...

... but I've had to delete several posts because when I bring my page up in Firefox, it is not lined up correctly. Has anyone noticed this over the last few weeks?

It's starting to make me mad. I'm not even sure what is happening, but certain posts have something in them that is making them unreadable on my site. I wish I knew.

Signs of Life

Do you ever feel like you're so busy that every time you think of one thing you want to do, you can think of at least six things you should be doing instead? Do you ever feel like you've spent the life delegating the bulk of your responsibility to yourself to the backburner and take care of everyone else first... that you do it so much you begin to think that taking care of everyone else IS the bulk of your responsibility?

When do you say enough is enough? When do you start doing the 1 thing you want to do for yourself? Soon enough I say. But it's never as soon as I would like.

Life is good, for those who are wondering. I am not sure if the video that we were shooting is as good as we'd like or if it is something we'd like to continue. That makes me sad. I wish we'd kept all the people who were helping, but we weren't able to. The good thing is knowing what you really, actually need when trying to shoot a sitcom. Maybe I'll be able to get something done later, but for now, it looks like a lost cause.

Writing is going well. I've started interning for a local entertainment newspaper (unpaid of course) and I will have a few things in it, even if it is just the calendar.

I'm working out... which means I actually get sleepy at night, so I'm not so insomniac... yet it is 5am and I have yet to go to bed, though I've been yawning since 7:30.

I woke up lucid for my Wednesday morning Bible Study. There's hope for God yet.

I am so in love with my husband, it makes the pragmatic non-romantic in me sick. And I don't care.

Well, that's the quick update. Keep reading my sidebar...

What up with my site?

If anyone else sees something wrong with my website, please let me know. Right now, it looks like an idiot.

Update: One post was throwing the entire site off. If you left a comment, please know that I didn't delete it on purpose. Comment away everyone!

Skinny, Lovable Nerd

"Don was a small man... but everything else about him was large: his mind, his expressions," Griffith told The Associated Press on Saturday. "Don was special. There's nobody like him. I loved him very much," Griffith added. "We had a long and wonderful life together."

When I was about 12 years old, we started watching television. My parents had always had a television and there was a broken television in our room where we put all the blankets. I'm not sure why it was broken or why we still had it.

If we wanted to watch television previous to my 12th birthday, we had to sneak into our parents bedroom, turn the television on at low volume and slink down below the edge of the bed. Our parents were incredibly hard sleepers. We only did this on Saturdays because it was the only day worth getting a whipping over being caught watching tv.

When I was 12, we moved into a new house, with enough room for the girls to have their own room, the boys to have their own and our parents had theirs. We had a real, ho nest to goodness living room, a really big kitchen and a dining area. And a brand new television.

My parents put the television in the girls room, the room closest to theirs so they could break up any "it's my turn" television bickering. For the most part, we got along. No one wanted to stop watching Saturday morning cartoons, music videos, or wrestling.

One day, I turned the television on and I see Don Knotts dressed as a gun slinger, though a nerdy one at that. A woman shoots a gun and everyone thinks Don did it. I watch the movie and laugh my way through it. He sure did look funny in The Shakiest Gun In The West. Then I watched The Incredible Mr. Limpet and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. I'm pretty sure I watched all of these movies in one sitting. I loved them. I started watching the Andy Griffith Show and fell in love with the characters, the stories, the sense of humour, the theme song.

Some people say The Andy Griffith Show wasn't complete once Don Knotts left it in 1965. I can believe it. I've only seen the episodes he's in. I loved the nervous way he was, the facial expressions, his erratic movements. It was all a part of his comedy. And when I was older and moved to Matlock (watching this, more than turning 30, shows my age) I was glad, in the later seasons, to see Don Knotts and Andy Griffith together again.

Don Knotts has been around for a while, making us laugh with his various antics, and that has not lessened as he's aged. I have seen brief glimpses from his time in the Steve Allen era of the tonight show and he was funny. He's always been funny. Funnier than most people have the right to be, funny without saying a word. Even in his later work, he made his age work for him. His death does not take his comedy away, but for a little while, the enjoyment will be less.

Of course, I haven't forgotten Mr. Furley. The eyes, the suits, the naivete. RIP Don Knotts.

Lost

I've been interested in Lost since the first season, but I never got a chance to watch it, since I work nights and don't have Tivo or a DVR.

I'm a loser.

Anyway, fortunately for me, Lost released the first season on DVD shortly before the second season started. I came home from work and for 4 days all I watch is Lost Season 1. It was pretty darned good, so when the 2nd season started, I was waiting expectantly. My husband, however, was not. He watched the first three episodes and thought the show was awful. Then, somehow, he convinced himself to watch the first season. He did and it changed his life.

Every Thursday is Lost day... not because it comes on Thursday, but because iTunes Music Store sells the episodes so that we never have to miss a show again. Yes, we are a day later than everyone else in the world who watches it on Wednesday, but we get to see it relatively soon, versus getting it on video. I have the entire first season and all the current episodes on my iPod now. I have been listening to Lost podcasts to get into all the theories, because I have my own theories.

What I hate is I never see the clues that everyone else sees. It's slightly irritating. But only slightly. Because now I can just go back and watch the episode. It's exhilirating. But what I hate about it is that I have to wait once I'm done with the current episode. The one thing I like about being able to buy whole seasons on iTunes Music Store (iTMS) is that I can watch it at my leisure. I wish I had the patience to wait until the season was done. I could watch it all at once and when an episode begs me to wait impatiently for the next show, I would like to be able to click the "next" arrow and see it. That's what I did with Arrested Development... well, not for my iPod, just for my computer.

Speaking of Arrested Development, did anyone see the season finale? It was soooo funny. I hope they continue the show in some form. It would be really interesting if they did an online show. It would be interesting if they did a show on cable television... I wonder if iTMS would get the show. If it would, I would be spending hard earned money downloading it. I love technology.

Ah well, I had something much more intelligent to say about Arrested Development. No, I didn't. But I'd like to think I did.

1 year 6 months with him

Yes, God loves me, this I know. But when it comes to Valentine's Day, me and God have never seen eye to eye. While God supports love, I'm ever derisive of the flowers that cost too much and the candy that is in heart shaped boxes and the red and pink aisles that magically appear after Christmas/New Year's Day (which is one holiday now).

I used to have Anti-Valentine's Day parties, where I would cook all day to make sure that there was too much garlic in my famous artichoke-spinach dip (and plenty of cheese - I am still me after all) and cookies that had discouraging love messages and we would watch movies that showed you what love could be about. Like What Lies Beneath.

Then, last year, I realized something really important. My half year wedding celebration occurred 6 months after my Aug. 14 wedding. On Feb. 14. On Valentine's Day. I know God got a good laugh out of this. I wonder if he's been planning it since the foundation of the world, which would be funny, and almost as rewarding as when He planned my salvation. Almost. I kinda had to give God credit, cause he got me then. I now have to celebrate V-Day to some extent. The head baker remembers my half year celebration because of my immense hatred of Valentine's Day. My husband still laughs at me because I don't want flowers for that day. But he was sweet. He gave me an iPod with video as a gift. I wanted one. I've been begging for one. We sold my mini to get me one. And now I have it. It was the best Valentine's Day gift I've ever gotten. But I got it the Sunday before V-Day. Which made me especially happy.

At 3am after V-Day had slowly died it's death and it was the 15th, my husband pulled me close to him and asked me if it was really okay that he didn't get me anything for V-Day. I said, of course. I don't need no stinkin' roses to let me know you love me. He smiled as only a guy who had been let off the hook by the woman he most loved in the world would. Now, don't be fooled. I'm high maintenance. I want to go on a cruise for our 2 year anniversary. I just don't need anything for V-Day.

But I really love my iPod.

Driving

I believe that you have the right to drive any speed that you wish. If the street is a 45mph zone, you can drive 25 mph if you want to. But they have a lane for you. It's called the slow lane. Get outta my way!

Walking Around Barnes and Noble

I was walking around Barnes and Noble earlier today and I saw a guy who looked pregnant walking around too. I was trying to figure out what he was wearing and a thought came to me.

If you're walking around wearing something whose only description is a "greatcoat", you are a nerd.

Then I thought:
If you know what a "greatcoat" is, you are a nerd.

*sigh*

Young Chuck Norris

I know this has been going around the internet for a while, but since WE watch it every morning for our daily laugh, I thought you should watch it this morning.

Well, even though its 2:47pm, it is morning to us. Enjoy Young Chuck Norris

Thus ends the saga

Not of Brewed, but of the struggle for Brewed. We were watching the raw, unedited footage and it is funny. We will be filming next weekend and could definitely use some extras! We need ninjas. And a big guy in a trenchcoat. And a glowstick ninja. It is definitely a silly show, but we are having fun.

Well, we are having fun now that we know that what we did today was good. Not excellent. It's not going to win us any awards, but it is good. I can't wait to finish it.

In other news, I'm looking at starting a part time writing business, so I'm learning how to make a business plan for a home based writing business, studying more writing so that I can eventually sell to magazines. I'm trying to come up with ideas for the local magazines and indie newspapers so that I can develop a clips portfolio. I'm trying to narrow down my fields of expertise... coffee and abstinence education... I've worked with coffee for 5 years and I taught abstinence education for 4 years. I'm also going to look into creative writing contests and developing my own book of short stories.

I'm still working on my lowly sock, but I can't show them to you because my camera hates me. Again. I have to get a better one and that will be a while. I can't wait to get one though because I have an idea for a picture blogsite and I can't wait to do it. I have a capelet design that I should have started on two months ago, but very beautiful grey and wine, soft wool yarn are stashed in my closet, waiting for me to care for them. The capelet design is a bit more complicated than I am used to, but hopefully, I will get some new yarn soon *hint hint*

Ah well, all's well that ends well. Our own commenter, Kevin, was there and did and excellent job as a pissed off customer. I can't wait to write the show where he comes back and gives as good as he got!

Bim and Daniel returned and did an excellent job. You'll get your chance for revenge Bim! We looked at the footage and your scenes were awesome. We should be able to use them just fine, no worries. We missed Aubrey and April, but we understand when life takes you towards your goals. I hope you guys enjoyed your day! I'm so happy to have this week behind me. It could have been an ulcer inspiring week. But it is over and the sense of accomplishment I feel for my first directing and writing job is... awesome.

Anyway, it's beddy bye time. Goodnight all.

Brewed2

I could see it all falling apart. The realization that this was going to take much longer than we expected, that we really needed more people for extras, the let down feeling when the people who'd promise to show up didn't.

It would have been enough to break the average production down. But with this seeming failure, we've found our beginning. So, we will be delayed by a couple of weeks, but the delay has done nothing but make us realize our dream can finally happen.

I was so exhausted after the shooting. Our extras from Valdosta were the most fantastic people who's interest in what we were doing far outweighed any impatience that waiting all day could bring. They were game to participating when they thought they'd only be sitting around and added one of everyone's favorite line, which will now be part of the script. Thanks Bim! Daniel, Aubrey, and April, you guys rocked all of our socks off!

Two guys walked into the shooting location because they knew the guy playing our homeless guy. Not knowing this, seeing two new faces, I put them in roles and they did them without question. Later on, on asking them how they came to hear about our shooting, they told me they were just saying hello to an old bandmate. I told them about the show and they will come in and be extras for us, hopefully on a regular basis. Thanks Jeremy and Colby! You guys rock too!

We have so much work to do. But now, we have a better understanding of what to do and how to do it. I'm still excited (now that I'm not so tired) and I can't wait to see what we come up with!

Brewed

For the last month and a half, we've been working on a video podcast. It's a sitcom situated in a coffee house. The main characters are the employees, but there are some crazy customers going through there as well. The people are normal everyday people with hopes and dreams and weaknesses... well, more weaknesses than anything, but it's been an incredibly fun experience. In that time, I've written 8 scripts. I've edited the first script alone 8 times. We are shooting that script this weekend. I'm too excited. I don't know what it's going to look like, but it will be a dream come true. I was head writer of my own sitcom. It will be online in a couple of weeks (fingers crossed!) and the whole world will get to see what we've come up with. Some of you will find it funny. Some of you won't. That's okay. I have to say it was the most fun I've had with a group of friends and strangers in a long time. The prospect of continuing this association excites me. My husband is, of course, the mastermind. I only work part time (approx. 25-30 hrs a week), but he works full time (40-50 hrs a week) and full time with this production. We've both had two jobs for a while now and we're super tired. So if you do this sort of thing, pray with us for strength, guidance, direction. Now would be a great time to have a church family, other people rooting for us from a knowledge and love of us, just like our families. So keep that in mind when you lift up those prayers.

We have been so incredibly blessed and we are so incredibly thankful for the last few months even if they have been tiring and trying. I am in no way complaining. I wouldn't have it any other way. So keep an eye out on this site for THE site and maybe you'll see something you find funny. Besides my typos. Don't say anything - it will hurt my feelings.

This Weekend

It's almost the weekend. It's almost time to begin shooting. I'm so excited about the table read, watching the actors read the lines we've crafted over the last month and a half. I can't believe we're at this point, and yet I'm so glad it's finally here. Are we wasting our time with a script that isn't funny? Or will the reading show that not only are we funnier than we thought, but the actors are awesome as well?

This weekend will tell. I'm so ready for it!

My Birthday

Yes, I am officially 30 years old. Let me tell you about all the wonderful things that happened on my birthday.

At midnight, The Honey came in to wish me a happy birthday. I explained to him that I wasn't born until 12:45pm, so we had another 12 hours to go before he could say happy birthday. He said my birthday was Jan. 2 and it started at midnight with hugs and kisses. I appreciated the hugs and kisses, but I still felt 30. I did some cleaning, straightening up, finally putting our new sheets on the bed. Then my husband picked out a movie he knew I would like and sat and watched it with me. Now, usually if he knows I will like a movie, he knows for a fact that he will not, so making this sacrifice for me, watching a movie he would loathe without saying a word... well, without saying many, many words anyway... showed me that he really wanted my happiness and to spend time with me doing something I would enjoy. This was at about 3am. We go to sleep and when we wake up, he wishes me a happy birthday. I don't feel well, but I didn't ask for the day off, partly because I'd forgotten, partly because I didn't know if I wanted to be off that day. So I was working. And I didn't tell anyone it was my birthday until the end of the night. If I had said it to everyone, I would have gotten better tips.

Anyway, at about 6:30, The Honey walks in with two bags in his hands and I don't recognize either one of them. He'd bought me a cake (chocolate with fudge icing), a book of the best short fiction of 2005 and a box of truffles from Godiva. MMMMMMMM. So I got some really great gifts. My manager at work got me a happy birthday balloon and a bookmark. So all my gifts are useful this year.

Now, I know that gifts aren't a sign of how much someone loves me, but I enjoy well thought out gifts that show you know me. Anyway, if anyone still wants to get me a gift, a subscription to Glimmertrain would be awesome, either the short story collection or the Writers Ask... both would be useful. Just letting the world know. I'll prolly subscribe myself within the next couple of weeks. I like the fiction they come out with.

Then my sister showed up and she spent the night at the apartment, hung out with me, we talked... she's going to be 21 this year. YIKES! I can't believe it. My little sister is growing up. And she wants to be in her apartment by herself for that time. She loves her time. Anyway, she is a very mature and insightful person, if a bit boy crazy, but fortunately even that's not severe. Anyway, other than knocking down a glass fixture from the chandelier over the table which shattered and broke in my birthday cake, everything was perfect! And that was my day.

Happy Birthday to me.

PS. The Honey called me several times throughout the night and he would say, "Hey, birthday girl" and everytime he said it, I was more excited about my birthday. It was the best birthday ever!

New Year's Eve

Last year, I got the Princess Diaries 2 as a Christmas gift. So I watched PD1 and PD2 yesterday... I made dinner for us (steak so we could taste the red wine someone gave us as a Christmas present) and watched the rest of PD2 afterwards. The Honey came into the room at the end of the film and saw me crying. Concerned, he rushes over. "What's wrong?" he asked. I paused and then said, "Clarisse isn't going to be queen anymore." He looked at me before starting to laugh. "I can't believe it."

The quote below from The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis (part of the Chronicles of Narnia) made me cry because sometimes I feel like that with God. When He makes Himself known through reading, or praying or such, all I can see are the things I didn't do for Him even though He asked it of me. You know, so relieved to hear from Him, yet so aware of your faults. Seeing change, knowing the old things have to go, the new things have to be put into place... it's very emotional. 25 hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt like one day, I was 19 and then suddenly, I was 25. Since then, I've felt myself getting older.

My main thoughts are about my job. I don't want to just work at a milk and cookie store for the rest of my life. Oh, I want to be a writer. Lately, I've been doing that work, although I don't get paid for it. When I go to work, the job I get paid for, I am tired, stressed, and brought to a bad mood by rude customers (then I become rude and make some nice customers feel bad). Some days are better when people I like come in. All in all I think about the fact that I don't like the job enough to make a career out of just being behind the counter. Yet management doesn't treat me like I'm going to be any more. Oh, I've been invited on trips and given a title of sorts, but we don't meet, there are no attempts to cultivate me for management, etc.

But no matter what my work day is like, at midnight, I am rejuvenated. 3 days a week, at midnight, I get together with a group of people and we work on our show. We have four scripts done, two semi done and two on the way. I love this time of the day. I love figuring out plot problems, solving them, making the scripts funnier. I love it all. THIS is what I want to do forever. I love my job most days, I just don't love the direction it seems to be going in. and unless I begin making money writing... So, what to do? I guess we'll both be finding out together.

Happy New Year

"I have come," said a deep voice behind them. They turned and saw the Lion himself, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy compared with him. And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrellings. And she wanted to say, "I'm sorry" but she could not speak. Then the Lion drew them towards him with his eyes, and bent down and touched their pale faces with his tongue, and said:
"Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia."

Helluva Good French Onion Dip is like crack.

In less than a week...

I will be thirty. Just keeping you up to date.

Favourite Christmas Memories

My husband's cousin's wife posted this question and I wanted to answer it, but I had too many, so I am going to post it here.

Sitting with my siblings on Christmas Eve listening to the songs on the radio and trying to figure out who would sing which part in Silent Night by the Temptations.

When I was little, the little shiver of anticipation when I heard Santa's "Ho Ho Ho" and got up the next morning and saw a HUGE piece of chocolate cake missing. I learned years later it was just my uncle coming over to get a slice (hank of cake more like it) before heading home.

Watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story - This is a recent tradition. (last year, they played it on TBS instead of TNT and I missed it and stumbled upon it the next day by mistake in the last thirty minutes. I was soooooo mad. Even though I like Sinbad as a comedian, I was still pissed at 24 hours of Jingle All The Way)

The Christmas cleanup (another childhood thing). Every Christmas we had to do a big spring cleaning style clean up. If the room wasn't clean, Santa wouldn't visit. So every year, we had to come up with innovative ways to push the trash and toys around the room without actually cleaning up. Christmas cleanup was the best form of waiting-for-christmas-day procrastination ever.

Decorating the Christmas tree - My parents would get a tree either Christmas Eve or the day before. Then we would hurry to decorate the tree. When the house was quiet, I would turn off all the lights and lay on the sofa looking at the tree. I love the peace of Christmas lights. Also, Christmas was the only time I could be in the living room without getting yelled at.

And the number one best Christmas memory is - Every year, we would wake up way to early for Santa. We would walk out into the living room, all the lights would be on, my parents would be in their room (or gone because we wouldn't have dared walk into their rooms when they had the power to send Santa on his way if we weren't good) and there would be nothing. We would go back to bed just knowing Santa had missed us and go back to sleep (one year I cried myself to sleep. I think I was 7). Then we would wake up maybe two hours later and walk out of our room and the house would be dark except for the lights coming from the Christmas tree and we would walk into a room of toys, separated on the sofas by child. {I always had a teddy bear and an easy bake oven. My last Christmas teddy bear, which I still have, was the one I got when I was a senior in highschool. That bear went everywhere with me. } We would be so awed by the difference that we would quietly go to our toys and play with them until the need for batteries on something would force us to wake our parents. Then they would patiently do all the parent things like install batteries, open plastic cases and ooo and aaahh over my easy bake creations. That was always the best, waking up two times and loving that last wake up. I don't think the magic of that has died yet.

So, if you have Christmas memories, please share and my comments box can take what you can dish out.

Funerals

I've always hated funerals. I hate the procession, I hate the way I can't cry like everyone else. I hate the way I'm more interested in what those who come say about the deceased than I am in the words written about them. I don't hate this because there is something wrong with me in it. I hate it because it makes me just a little different from most of the people around me. And as much as I like being different, I don't like being seen as uncaring. I still care what people think about me. A friend of mine died a few months ago and I spent a majority of his funeral writing a short story I entered into a short story contest when I was done. I didn't know where the story would go when I started writing it, but it is being rejected as we speak. I cried tears, real tears, for the person I saw in the picture, but the body in front of me wasn't him and I couldn't mourn that.

What I like are wakes. I like the get together where the people talk about who that person was to them. I like the reminder of life more than the presense of death. I like the life that words give to a person. I like the thoughts, when the person is loved, that move through the minds, the genuine smiles, the moved tears. I love the stories that give credence to a life well lived.

The circumstances of death are not always pleasant. Cancer, AIDS, suicide, murder, old age. The presence of death is always lurking and though I don't dislike him, nor do I fear him, I certainly don't like to be around him. Funerals are like constantly being around him and feeling, even if only for a moment, that he has won. I like wakes because they give you the hope that, despite it all, death never gets to win.

Merry Christmas

My husband hates people (bear with me). Well, he doesn't care if people like him. As a result, he does nothing at all to please others. He is wonderful to me because I am the love of his life. I like people. I want people to like me. I spent the six months we were engaged and the first half of our first year married (one full year) trying to convince people to love my husband as much as I do. He is abrupt and can come off as uncaring. However, anyone who takes the time will realize he's great and he will grow to like them... as long as they are not silly, empty headed twits. You take him as he is or not at all because he's not going to change for you. You can either love him or hate him, but it's completely up to you. When I realized this, I stopped trying to "get" people to like him, just let the chips fall as they may, because if he could handle it, then doggone it, I could too.

God is similar to my husband in some respects. He doesn't care how you view him, though he took the time to write down the type of person he is. He has given you free will and ultimate choice, yet he tells you the end result of those choices. He gives you the option to live your life any way you want... it's just that one way is life and the other way is death. I'm okay with letting God decide which is which. Many people look at God as abrupt and want to dislike him, to doubt that he is any good and to treat him the way they perceive he is treating them. But many who get to know him, who take the time to sort through the lies and their own personal feelings for or against him, find that he is either a kind "master" or a harsh "taskmaker" (or both) and then they choose to follow him anyway. Don't ask me why I did, but it's a long boring story if you do.

As I look at the debate between those who choose to accept Christ, those who accept the Christian religion, those who choose another religion, and those who choose nothing, we truly do see through a glass darkly. All of us are stumbling in the dark towards we don't know what. All of our teaching are clothed in mysteries. How can you be like the water, flowing around the rocks? How can you be totally sold out to Christ? Everything I believe is on faith, backed by my experiences following Christ, my conversations with him, my struggles with him. Now I see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Then I will know as I am known. I don't need to keep defending God. Take him or leave him as he is. I don't need to keep proving to people how much I love him, how much he is in my life, because the people I need to prove him to, the people I defend him to, are the people who care the least about the actuality of God and are more intent on proving their rightness. If you can read the story of David in the old testament and reconcile his life with what God says of him, then you already know more about God than I can ever explain to you. And you are the kind of person I want to get to know better.

So this is for anyone who has anything to say about either my husband or God, even though you may never read this post. They are both awesome and the best things that have ever happened to me. And I wouldn't have one without the other, nor could I have understood one without the other. And that is the biggest blessing in my life, for which I thank Christ every day.

Yes, I know, strange, but it needed to be said.

In other weird and slightly gross news...

I've had two dreams today about pulling vast quantities of hair out of a cavity in my back tooth. Like, enough hair to wig several people. I remember wondering why there was so much hair. I didn't seem to think it was weird that it was coming out of my tooth. It was like when you pull hair from a drain and theres hair and alot of much with it. In the dream, I think other people want to kill me. I'm not sure if it is because of the hair or before the hair, but if I were them, it would be because of. Well, they wanted to kill someone and I'm not sure why I was with them... but some killing was about to be going on. I just remember the hair. Lots of it. From my tooth. gross.

I wonder what it means.

In other news...

December marks the third year of blogging for me. Shortly before Christmas three years ago, I entered this world of blogging and except for two times (where I moved from blog to blog) I've never regretted it. I appreciate the comments, the times you've made me laugh, making new internet friends and learning about myself and other... myself in relation to others.

I made a remark to someone that 2005 would be the year of me. I've joked about it so much this year and realized how selfish I am. I don't now what 2006 will bring, but I look forward to the adventure. For some reason, I've been thinking that next year will be 2007. I don't know what that means, but I hope I can keep it straight. This year has gone by so fast. It's hard to believe how much has happened in it. My first year of marriage, sending out my first piece of writing, my new position at the milk and cookie store, making new friends (in real life), really being in love through the thick and thin for the first time in my life and how different that feels that anything else I've ever experienced. Even losing relationships (although that was more 2004). This year has been awesome. So good that I'm afraid of the other shoe... you know, the one you're always waiting for to drop. Maybe that will be 2006. Oh, but I've enjoyed this blessing of a year. I hope you have enjoyed your year and if not, I pray next year will be much better.

New Things To Come

I'm in general excitement mode lately. We've been working on something that is exactly what I want to do and all of the sleepiness and tiredness will mean something in the end for all of us. I know I'm being a bit cryptic, but I don't want to say any more until there is more to show.

In writing news, I'm writing more than ever. I will hear back about my short story relatively soon, but I am sure it isn't going to win. That's okay. I will keep writing and entering contests so that eventually, I will get something published. One day, someone will pay me to write and I hope it's next year.

I can't believe it's almost Christmas. It feels like any other month to us, except with more traffic and pretty lights everywhere. We didn't decorate this year because I'm still married to a Scrooge, but it was also a bit of a relief to not decorate AND to not have to get rid of a tree this year. Last year's tree is still rotting in the woods. You know they have those weekends after the new year where you take your tree in to be made into mulch. Well, we missed that weekend and when we carried the tree out into the woods, we looked like we were dumping a body.

I wanted to do a New Year's Eve party, but I can't this year. I have, however, invited my friends to one next year because the conditions for me being able to have a party according to Scrooge will in place. I'm so excited. I don't know how to act. All next year will be party planning for New Year's Eve. I may even be able to have a Christmas party... but I did promise that I would only have one a year.

Right now, I'm just procrastinating. So I will let you continue to surf the internet while I go back to writing.

The Chronicles of Narnia

How can a film be very good and just alright at the same time?

When watching a movie, if the blue (or green) screen is evident, if most of the acting is a bit over the top, if the plot is plodding at points, and if the director didn't take the time to help us see the characters connect while using techniques as if he were just taught them at film school, you could say a movie is just alright.

All this is true about The Chronicles of Narnia. I could hear my husband, who has much production experience, go crazy with muttering everytime the production was less than desired. The technical aspects of the movie are just so-so. He started with Mr. Tumnus' ears and didn't stop until the movie was done. Up until then, he was just bored. While the rest of us gasped a little when we saw poor Tumnus turned to stone, he laughed at the fake stone replication of said Tumnus. I could understand why he laughed, but the point was that he was stone.

But if that same movie, with all its faults, were to make you hold your breath with anticipation when the Pevensie children finally are all in Narnia, shiver to your bones in awe with the first look at Aslan or jump in your seat when he roared, or cry like a baby when you know (because you've read the books many times over) by his look that he has given himself to the White Witch, then I have to say it is a triumph. There were parts from which I expected more, like Aslan's scene at the Stone Table. I wish they had taken the time to show people who hadn't grown up with the books why Susan and Lucy would spend all night crying over a dead lion. But all in all, the moments that moved me in the story are the moments that moved me in the movie.

The best parts of the movie was Lucy and TheWhite Witch. Lucy was adorable, honorable, and made you believe that a rag-tag bunch of kids escaping WWII could really help lead Narnia out of forever winter. The White Witch was evil, to her core. She was so perfectly bad, pretending to be good to poor Edmund so that she could catch all four humans, kill them, and gain true control over Narnia, that you knew it really would take someone like Aslan to set her straight.

"And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don't understand but in the dream it feels as if it has some enormous meaning - either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one fo the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer." The Chronicle of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe; A Day with the Beavers.

I hadn't heard of The Chronicles of Narnia until I saw a BBC production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I loved the story so much, some indefinable quality I don't know, that I immediately went about finding, and reading, all the books. I have looked so forward to seeing Aslan, Aslan done right, that I would forgive this movie anything if only it did him right. It did him right.

Europe in the Spring

I took 25 really hard. It started out well enough with a friend wishing me a happy quarter of a centery, but it seemed to go progressively downhill. Love life, friendships, spiritual journey, all seemed to go down a dirt road. In the middle of a thunderstorm. That threatened to turn into a flood. It was a horrible year. I realized that soon, another milestone year would happen and if time was on my side the same way it had been, it would be coming sooner than I wanted.

I wanted to be prepared for 30. I didn't want to dread it. I was going to be ready, going to blindside old age with preparedness. I was going to go to Europe. I would start saving money, look and listen out for deals, try to figure out the best time to go, the least of the touristy times where things were open, but not alot of people were around. It was a grand plan and I was going to go through with it. Well, once I figured out where I was going to move, and once I changed jobs, and, and, and.... I decided to move to California.

Then, This Girl and The Honey, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marriage. That's it. No baby carriage and no Europe. Because in California, I don't find a steady job. I move back home and instead of carrying on footloose and fancy free, I get myself hitched so instead of being married at 33 like I expected, I get married at 28. Instead of going to Europe, I'll almost be 2 years married. Europe never stood a chance against The Honey.

Okay, 30, give me your best shot. I'm ready for you and I've got backup. I do, however, reserve the right to celebrate the Second Annual Twenty-Ninth Birthday.

Procrastinating

Do you remember when you were little and you thought about the year 2000 and how far away it was? I remember when I was 12 years old, I realized that I was 12 years away from the year 2000. Since I don't remember anything until the age of 5 (except for random flashes from the "before time") That time seemed really slow to me. I couldn't imagine getting to 12 years from then and what I would be like. I imagined being old. Then I thought about how I would be even older 6 years later when I reached 30. My friends and I couldn't imagine being thirty, living that long... It's amazing what time is like to a kid compared to an adult.

I'm in my last 20. 29 years, 11 months, and 4 days old. In 27 days, I will require love and lots of it to get me through the day. I may even work so I don't have to think about it. I don't dread it. I look forward to it. I just wish I was going to go to Europe too.

And to The Honey. I'm not your "old lady", I'm your "special ladyfriend".

Getting Old

In less than a month, I will be thirty.

*sigh*

If there is anyone reading who is older than me (and there must be a few) please don't give me your words about me still being young, or that thirty is nothing, or any other platitude that would be designed to make me feel better (or heaven forbid, worse). Let me wallow in my self pity.

Thank you.

I'm trying to figure out what I want for Christmas. I didn't really want anything last year and anything I wanted I got when I asked for it. A new notebook computer from Dell(although I'm definitely getting an iBook for my birthday), as much yarn as I could possibly want, books, magazines, software, etc. So, this year, I'm making a list of things I want so that, should The Honey be at wit's end for what to get for me, he can check here to make sure he's not getting me something totally ridiculous (although I'm pretty sure that's not possible).

The first thing that comes up, especially since I particularly want a Knitting Journal, is yarn and knitting/crocheting accoutrements. I'm making a wish list at my favourite yarn store. The yarn I want to make a sweater with is pretty expensive, but I think that it will be an awesome sweater (if I don't screw it up). I'm working on a sock right now and it's going awesome. I already want to try a sock in a different yarn that will actually match the clothes I work in, but that's neither here nor there. I'm not afraid to wear socks that have nothing to do with the colours I'm presently wearing.

My second thing is something electronic, whether it be a new digital camera or a spiffy cell phone, or a PDA for on the go notebooking. I don't really need any of these things, although getting a new digital camera would be really nice.

My third thing would be magazine subscriptions. I would like the subscriptions to a couple of writing magazines and a couple of knitting magazines. I would also like to join The Knitters Guild of America.

Of course, gift certificates to book type stores wouldn't be snubbed either, or specialty tea from Teavana, which would also be nice.

Finally, I would like a terry cloth type robe and cute little animal slippers, a video or two (the new Sound of Music with all the added features so I would have three copies, Cinderella, Serenity (best movie I've seen this year) or the box set for Firefly. I'm sure there are others, but that's all I can think of right now), maybe a few CDs ( something from Elliot Smith, or The New Pornographers or some bootleg Arcade Fire)

Well, that's all I can think of now. At least it's better than last year, where I just drew a big blank. And that ain't good.

How much is this blog worth?

How long has it been. It feels like much longer than 11 days. I've probably written 4,000 more words for NaNoWriMo since I last wrote, but I've written one and a half scripts for a project that is under way. Maybe if we complete it, you can see what I've been up to.

I have chosen a "winner" for the next plot point contest and I will be posting that part of my story shortly.

I have two short stories in my head right now and I've already started writing one.

I have so many great things going on that I want to tell the world, all 5 of you, through my blog, which is why I love writing this blog, though I choke and don't do it often enough.

So imagine my surprise when I find out:

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

So there you have it folks. Words mean nothing. Only links to something substantial does. And I'm okay with that.

Day 15 - Nanowrimo

I just caught up to day 6. I have to come up with characters for something my husband and I are doing with a bunch of people from his job. I am meeting with a class of fifth graders in a few hours and thursday to convince them that writing is more than punctuation and that you can write without the internal editor on (I say, even though I can't stand to see the little red and green lines under my words when I'm writing and when my husband asks me what I think of something he's written, I immediately start doing the grammar check, yet somehow I seem not to be bothered by incorrect words in my own writing {i.e. blogging} - although I'm sure I'll change "graft paper journal" to "graph paper journal" one of these days).

Right now I've been up far too long and the Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack is doing wonders for helping me fall asleep. 3000 word or more tomorrow is my battle cry.

Sockotta

I'm learning to knit socks. I have about an inch of the leg part. I'm knitting on needles so small that sometimes I drop one without knowing it. Completely without knowing this thing is not still between my fingers. They are so small, when someone asked me what I was making and I said, a sock, they said, "Oh, for a baby?" "No. For a full grown adult," I answered. These needles are so small, so pointy that I either want to use them as toothpicks or cross myself and pray that I don't poke an eye out.

I love my yarn shop. When they get a website I'm going to link them. I've been to yarn shops in other towns and another yarn shop in this town and I haven't found a group of women as friendly as I've found at Creative Yarns. Christy Ott helps you so much, even if you didn't buy the yarn from her, which makes you want to buy everything from her. She gave one of the ladies a birthday party today because this lady was turning 40 and her boyfriend of 2 years dumped her out of the blue. She cares about her customers. Right now, she's making wish lists for her customers, so I'm going to get The Honey to go into the yarn shop for some shopping. I hope I get to be with him so that I can see his face. Can you imagine my techno-savvy baby trying to purchase yarns for hand knitting? He's worried about being married to a woman who still has a box of tapes, wait until he sees all the yarns I want. Although there is a graft knitting journal that, if I get it, I can knit him an Apple logo something. I just found out I can felt (knit super big using wool yarn then shrink in the wash with hot water to make it virtually indestructable) an Apple logo notebook computer case. I just may do it if I get an iBook for my birthday.

I am ashamed to say that in the last few days, I've only added several hundred (not thousand) words. I am ashamed to admit that I may not write 50,000 words by the end of the month. I am discouraged and encouraged at the same time. I still want to keep writing what I'm doing, but I am not as committed to making it a novel. I am beginning to get interested in the lives of the people I'm writing about. I want to go into their histories, get to know them like new friends. That's good. But I am discouraged because I didn't make myself sit down and write for an hour or two every day. I know that I can get words flowing at various time (like for blogging or internal lectures aimed at various children acting co-workers) but this has been really hard. I did know this going into it, but I have never wanted to just throw my hands up like I have these last two weeks. I've been so busy, this is the first month in a year that I've gone to bed before 3am and gotten up before 11am on multiple days. It's been good and refreshing, yet I'm not working less (I'm working more) nor do I have less things to do (I'm basically on my 4th short story since starting Nanowrimo), but I've been getting sleep. That's gotta be good. It certainly is an answer to prayer.

When I get a battery for my camera, I will show you the sock. And the eye-stabbing, toothpick knitting needles that daily tax my life. You should pray.

NaNoWriMo Misery

So here I am, trying to write, and by trying to write I mean updating my iPod, adding songs to my song library, looking at old pictures of me and vowing to lose a little more weight, eating Pringles and reading my email. And by reading my email, I mean checking it every 5 seconds to see if someone sent me email. I'm at a little under 6,000 words, which would be good if it were day three, but it is actually day 7, which means I'm 10,000 words behind. WTH??? I think I'm going to be one of those people who just burst into tears randomly as I feel the crushing weight of word count bearing down on me.

So here I am, writing so well for this little blog (how did you like that long, long story of our trip to Miami? Cause the weekend felt as long as that story looks) but I can barely get to the next plot point for my story. Your assignment, dear reader, is to give me the next plot point. I'm not going to tell you what the story is about. I just want you to tell me a good plot point. If I use it, I'll post an excerpt. Thanks for having my back. (I just found out, by looking at the date, that it is really 8 days into it, so I should have 12,000 words by the end of tonight *bursts into hysterical tears*)

Miami Wedding

A friend from college got married this weekend. There were alot of good, funny moments and alot of other moments that are by no means related to good or funny. Yet.

We drove to Miami, Florida at 12:30am Saturday morning and left at 12:30pm Sunday afternoon. The wedding was at 6pm, Saturday. So, we were given a time of 12 hours to drive. That means we would get into Miami around noon on Saturday. That would give us time to rest, shower, and go to the wedding. The groom's mother has a condo in downtown Miami that she let us borrow for the weekend. We didn't have the keys or the room number. We didn't know that his mother was divorced so she was not using her married name. We didn't know where anyone or anything else was. We tried calling the number we had and noone answered. We got into town around 10am and we drove around until 3:30pm before we were in the house. So, that gives us a couple of hours before we had to be at the church. The Honey gets a few minutes of shut eye while I want to clean the road off of me. Let me tell you, a steaming hot shower can cure all ills. I wake the honey up and we try to follow directions we hadn't written down and we were about 20 minutes late to the wedding. We found the church by some strange act of God and sat on the wrong side of the church. We left the church to go to the reception and got there an hour later than it was supposed to start, but by some strange act of God, it didn't start until after we got there.

You know how someone gives you directions with abbreviated names as if you know what they are talking about? Well, let me tell you, Biscayne Blvd and Key Biscayne are not the same thing, even if you are told to follow Biscayne out to a resort, You're supposed to go to the island, Key Biscayne, and follow THAT street to the Ocean Club, not Biscayne Blvd, which only takes you north towards Aventura. Which is neither Miami nor Key Biscayne. Honestly, we spent so much time driving this weekend that when we stopped for food on the way home, The Honey wanted to stay inside because he couldn't stand going back to the car just yet. We spent 35 of the past 48 hours in the car. Driving. Trying to find things. Every bit of our time in Miami was spent trying to find something. The Apple Store, The yarn shop, The groom's mom's house, the church, the reception, the way back to the house, the way we came so that we wouldn't go to other cities. We made so many wrong turns, I think the security people started to communicate to each other about us.

When we were driving, we hated Miami. But when I saw my friend's beautiful, smiling face, when I saw how proud my Cuban mama was (my friend's mom and I adopted each other as family), when I saw people I hadn't seen in forever, I was glad to be there. Wilma did so much damage. The clean up, street closures, street lights that are out... it gives Miami a sort of third world country look that doesn't go well with the sleek building and even sleeker people. People are working overtime to get things back to normal, but, as my Cuban poppa says, "In Miami, when the shelter in your back yard blows down, you just go out and buy a new one." He is just grateful that he was in the US when all this happened. For him, he was out of electricity for 6 days, but some places that experience this kind of devastation, or worse, are out for years. He knows he's fortunate and I was glad to understand that.

The wedding was beautiful and almost completely in Spanish. The priest spoke heavily accented english, so that means the entire service was in Spanish for The Honey. The bride and groom had been dating for 9 years and when the priest heard this, he said, "9 years! This is like marrying a brother and sister!" But it was awesome because it was beautiful and not understanding any of it kept me from tearing up too badly and ruining my eye makeup (which might not have been that great to begin with). We did alot of kneeling and at one point, I got to kiss my husband and shake hands with the people around me. I don't know what that was all about, but we did enjoy the kiss. Every marriage reminds us of ours and makes us feel even more like newlyweds (as opposed to old married people).

The reception was beautiful and I got an awesome picture of my friend dancing and laughing (which, when I post, I will delete everything in these parenthesis and put her picture instead). We had great dinner companions and I felt honoured that though I wasn't a bridesmaid (and I am quite fortunate for that) I was sat at the table with the other bridesmaids (most of whom I knew or had heard of for the last 9 years). We laughed and talked and drank too much champagne (except for The Honey, who had to drive - remember 35 hours driving). We took pictures and ate the most awesome steak with red wine pairing I'd ever had, followed by the best chardonnay with giant prawn pairing. Next came the time of sleep that was the most in our time there (10 hours).

We had to wake up early for the wedding brunch, a smaller, family and close friend affair that I was honoured to be invited to and I got to talk with everyone alot more. It was super hot outside and there was enough damage to know that hurricanes are no respecters of person. With another wedding as our backdrop, we got to celebrate, with mimosas and omelets, the fact that two such good friends were also now husband and wife.

Despite how irritated we got when we couldn't find where we needed to be, The Honey was such a trooper. To get to the wedding, he drove like a bat out of hell. I was holding onto the door for dear life, part scared to death, part proud as hell. The fact that we were late had absolutely nothing to do with his driving. Normally, he drives like an overly cautious mother. Then, he was driving like me in Los Angeles. It was awesome. And when we had driven an hour in the wrong direction, he still turned around and took the exits I told him to take even though at this point, he would rather have gone to IHop and gotten a coffee than drive any further to a wedding reception. He did everything I asked him and then more, and I learned just how much my husband continues to love me.

It was a grueling weekend, it was the best and worst weekend at the same time. The things that were inconvenient were very inconvenient. It was everyone's fault that things were as bad as they were (we could have gotten all info earlier, they could have called back) but everything worked out. (I also remember that she drove the same amount of time for the 15 minutes it took me to get married and I didn't offer anything more than a casual reception that lasted less than two hours. At least she made it two days of activities for our drive). The Bride was beautiful, the Groom was happy, a new life was started and I am more than glad that I was there for it all.

NaNoWriMo

Well, I'm doing it again this year. Trying to write 50,000 words in a month. I'm already behind on my word count and wasting more time by telling you about it. That's okay. I had 631 words when I sat down to write at 2:30am and now I have almost 4000 words, which catches me up for Nov. 2, but puts me 2000 words back for today. Ah well.

Last night, The Honey asked me what I was writing about. I said, "Me. I think that's what all writers do, no matter their characters and situation, it's really just a story about the writer." "When are you going to write about me?" he asked. "You'll be in the story, but the main character is me." "Screw that! I want to be a main character." So he storms off to the computer room. I get up to follow him. He opens his word processor and starts typing: I wanted a story where I was the main character. I thought this would be easy when you're married to a writer, but I guess I was wrong. So I have to write a story about me my own damn self.

As he's writing, he looks back at me. "So, what do I win if I write 50,000 words?" "I don't know." "Who won last year?" he asks. "Everyone who wrote 50,000 words," I say. "What? everybody won?" "Everybody that wrote their 50,000 words." "That's how you treat children! If I don't get something, I'm not doing it." "You get the satisfaction of finishing a big project in a short period of time. That is a prize for a writer." He shakes his head and turns back to the computer. I laugh and go back to procrastinating. He comes out a few minutes later and sadly says, "I'm not doing it anymore. I just wanted to let you know that you were safe."

I love my husband.

Something That Will Make Josh Fuller Sad

My husband, The Honey, decided that he would start blogging again. So he tried to do it through Safari (which is the Mac web browser that he is in love with) but things didn't work. What things? Heck if I know. So he decides to get Firefox again and do it from that browser. But it doesn't work and he remembers he has an old version (this is what I heard, possibly now what he said) so he needs to get the new model of the old version before he can actually use the new version. So he does that. Then he re-types everything that he'd typed earlier, got his pictures, put them in, had the link to his sister's baby website and tried to publish. Blogger was down. He decided that maybe it was a sign. So, as of this posting (at 5:11am and with no attempt to get him to change his mind yet) he will stop blogging forever.

Don't cry, everything works out eventually. And remember, God really does answer prayers.

Blogging

I've been reading my old blogs. Boy, I got overly dramatic sometimes. I guess my writing has its own signature. I was talking about someone I know being a writer and wondering if they could be a better writer than me. The Honey told me that they weren't, and he was very adamant about it. I asked him how he knew they weren't better and he said, "If they were, they would be published." Instead of skewing it the negative way, I took it as a compliment and vowed to start writing. I'm going to do NaNoWriMo again, even though I didn't finish last year. Maybe I can get something started.

I am both excited and dejected about writing. I want to do it. I can feel my fingers itch to type. So why do I delay the ideas that fairly burst in my head? I guess if I had the answer to that question, I would be published.

I Need New Music

Some of you may not know this, but I have a new iPod mini. It is new and old at the same time. I bought it in August, shortly after it was introduced and shortly after that, they stopped making it to make the Nano. It was for The Honey, but it became apparent that 4 GB was too small for his music. So, in a competitive move, I'm trying to find new music so that I have too much music for my Mini. *shakes fist at The Honey's new 60 GB iPod with Video, then cries silently to myself*

Any music suggestions?

Rest In Peace

Rosa Parks died yesterday. My husband said that he could feel his throat close when he read about her death. I know she didn't know how great a fire she would ignite when she decided that she would stay seated for today, thank you very much, but that action rippled through life, through eternity, to very many people. Her life touched mine, tangibly. I feel her touch when I see the Blacks Only and Whites Only signs at the Terminal Station and realize they are an extinct way of living in the south, even if some of the thinking hasn't changed. I felt her touch when my mom would tell me about living in a time when a distinction was always made because of the colour of her skin. I feel her touch when I walk down the street and can hold my husband's hand and noone has the right, or the public backing, to lynch us or ostracize us, or the right to make us feel like loving each other is wrong. I feel her touch because I can look any other human being in the eye and I never have to think that I am inferior. I'm not old enough to remember the boycotting or having to sit in the back of the bus or any of the indignities. They are distant memories that, if perpetrated now, would only be a mark of ignorance. I know that Rosa Parks didn't make all of these changes happen on her own, but she was a damn good spark. Rest in peace, Rosa.