Last night I literally would not let myself work on my presentation for my Form and Theory class until I finished my book report for my Shakespeare class. My book report is technically not due until Sat, but I have a research paper due on Monday for Shakespeare that I haven't even started (looked at some of the research-- that's all) so I really needed to get that out of the way and my presentation for Form and Theory is based on the paper which I've already written, and it's just a lot more fun than Shakespeare. Plus, since it was due today I knew I wouldn't go to bed before I finished the presentation, and I cannot say the same about that stupid book report which I've been putting off for weeks now.
And it worked. The book report is done and I think the presentation went well. Plus I got two new facebook friends as a direct result of my presentation, where I quoted a facebook conversation. (Whatever. It was a totally brilliant analogy- don't give me that look. At least two (TWO!) people physically reacted by leaning back in their seats and nodding when I came to the crux of the analogy.)
The cookies that I made for it were certainly a hit. I made special oatmeal raisin cookies for one of my friends in that class, and he says he's going to write me a jingle to use in my fictional cookie business.
Soon I will have a fictional cookie making empire. (The cookies will be real, the empire will not.)
I love making people happy with baked goods. I really do. It's so easy and people are so grateful/impressed. (I won't lie, I totally love the compliments, too.)
Now I need to be working on my Shakespeare paper, but a friend just came over to talk out some relationship issues she was having, and people are more important than papers.
And now she has left and I know when I finish this blog I have to buckle down... so I'm stalling for time a little.
It's a bit weird how being stressed out and super duper busy puts me in a really good mood, but it's as though every laugh has to be extra joyful to make up for the fact that I'm stressed. I think laughing is just my favorite. I think I'm a Care Bear in people clothes.
Shakespeare can't handle a Care Bear Stare!
To the Care-a-lot! (otherwise known as my upstairs office)
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Friday, December 7, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Criticism, aka, "Yo girl, why you gotta be hatin' ?"
I got back critiques from class today.
The good thing is that the people who's writing I've most liked and respected also thought my writing was decent and gave me some helpful feedback.
The bad thing is that one girl told me that there were many things in my story "that are assumed and not actually factual or true" and she would suggest researching some facts. (She doesn't actually tell me what "facts" I need to research.)
...This is a story that I was seriously considering not submitting because it's right on the line between fiction and creative non-fiction... But as I told a friend- I submitted it as fiction. There is no way for her to know that this story is based so closely in reality.
Must get thicker skin for people who don't know what they are talking about. After all, I can't have it all... I either get to be 24 and clueless about heartache, or 29 and a world-weary traveler, and I've chosen 24.
Thursday nights are my favorites because they are the only night I don't feel guilty about not doing one morsel of homework.
Oh and I'm going to a writer's retreat in the middle of October. I'm excited... and hoping I'm able to find a roommate or two for the retreat.
Yesterday's word was Meritocracy.
Anyone else think that Kara's been making the words extra hard to hide lately?? Yeah, me too! I mean how in the world am I supposed to be able to hide a word like proboscis??
YEAH.
And then I was all, like, "Check out the proboscis on that girl."
The good thing is that the people who's writing I've most liked and respected also thought my writing was decent and gave me some helpful feedback.
The bad thing is that one girl told me that there were many things in my story "that are assumed and not actually factual or true" and she would suggest researching some facts. (She doesn't actually tell me what "facts" I need to research.)
...This is a story that I was seriously considering not submitting because it's right on the line between fiction and creative non-fiction... But as I told a friend- I submitted it as fiction. There is no way for her to know that this story is based so closely in reality.
Must get thicker skin for people who don't know what they are talking about. After all, I can't have it all... I either get to be 24 and clueless about heartache, or 29 and a world-weary traveler, and I've chosen 24.
Thursday nights are my favorites because they are the only night I don't feel guilty about not doing one morsel of homework.
Oh and I'm going to a writer's retreat in the middle of October. I'm excited... and hoping I'm able to find a roommate or two for the retreat.
Yesterday's word was Meritocracy.
Anyone else think that Kara's been making the words extra hard to hide lately?? Yeah, me too! I mean how in the world am I supposed to be able to hide a word like proboscis??
YEAH.
And then I was all, like, "Check out the proboscis on that girl."
Friday, September 7, 2012
Don't Write Me Off Just Yet
Yesterday's word was disgorge.
You know who one of my newest favorite people is?
The guy in my Form and Theory class who will come in, quote a line from this really dense, difficult to get through stuff we are reading and then say, "What is he saying there? That doesn't mean anything. Those are barely words!"
Here's to you, Joe. I hereby appoint you the Chancellor of Form and Theory. *raises my mug of tea* Where everyone else (myself included) try to nod sagely and pretend we understand when we actually don't, you just lay out the honesty. It's especially appreciated when certain others in the class are pompous windbags.... but I digress. I'm happy that my professors know my name, and I feel safe both lauding and disparaging my compatriots, cause I don't think they will ever read this. The internet, she is a wide and wondrous place.
I think I am getting sick. My throat has hurt all day... I'm hoping that I'm not, though... being sick is absolutely no fun. I'm gonna drink my hot tea and feel better in the morning. Right, guys?
... Hey, it's worked before.
No brilliant insights from Shakespeare tonight, but a great appreciation for having a friend in my creative writing class... It's much easier to make yourself vulnerable to spectacular failure when you have a friend who is on your side and will tell you it's good, regardless.
In other news I really feel like I need to watch Music and Lyrics this weekend... I love that movie... a lot.
**** Don't listen if you haven't watched the movie and you think you might.****
You know who one of my newest favorite people is?
The guy in my Form and Theory class who will come in, quote a line from this really dense, difficult to get through stuff we are reading and then say, "What is he saying there? That doesn't mean anything. Those are barely words!"
Here's to you, Joe. I hereby appoint you the Chancellor of Form and Theory. *raises my mug of tea* Where everyone else (myself included) try to nod sagely and pretend we understand when we actually don't, you just lay out the honesty. It's especially appreciated when certain others in the class are pompous windbags.... but I digress. I'm happy that my professors know my name, and I feel safe both lauding and disparaging my compatriots, cause I don't think they will ever read this. The internet, she is a wide and wondrous place.
I think I am getting sick. My throat has hurt all day... I'm hoping that I'm not, though... being sick is absolutely no fun. I'm gonna drink my hot tea and feel better in the morning. Right, guys?
... Hey, it's worked before.
No brilliant insights from Shakespeare tonight, but a great appreciation for having a friend in my creative writing class... It's much easier to make yourself vulnerable to spectacular failure when you have a friend who is on your side and will tell you it's good, regardless.
In other news I really feel like I need to watch Music and Lyrics this weekend... I love that movie... a lot.
**** Don't listen if you haven't watched the movie and you think you might.****
Monday, September 3, 2012
Critique
Yesterday's word was promenade. Rhonda apparently started drinking the psychic Kool-aid.
I've just spent hours critiquing three fellow classmates' stories for advanced writing... Hours on something that's entirely subjective and is quite possibly going to be glanced over and disregarded because there is so much blue ink all over the page... or (for the one that I thought was really good) disregarded because there isn't that much... and he won't even really understand how much better I really thought his writing was, because he won't know how much ink I use on other people's stories.
The bases are all good- or at least acceptable. But in a critique all I really know to do is alter wording and phrasing as I would like for it to be, and hope that I don't horrendously insult someone in the process. I don't want to insult anyone.
It's kinda weird that the story I thought was the best done might be the one I liked the the least.
But then again I think it is the one that I would label as the most "literary." You see, I don't really like analyzing literature. I want to write it, and I'm fine with someone else analyzing what I write, but the fun for me is in the creation, not in the search for meaning. So I enjoy creating a story for class and I really appreciate the class that's telling me how/what people do when they create, but I think I'd rather just sit down with the author and ask what they were trying to say with their writing than approach a work with a certain criticism style and then extrapolate until I get the meaning I want.
But then I'd never be given those brilliant insights like the other night in Shakespeare...
It's just not a very peaceful life, is it? Dauntlessly trying to figure out the meaning hidden not one, not two, not three levels deep, but 20 levels down. And I have to wonder if the artist even meant for there to be these 20 levels of meaning or if, like me, they were just writing. They were just releasing the things scrambled up inside their head that needed release.
Will I find out after my work is critiqued that I'm racist, or sexist, or pretentious?
If I ever get a major publishing deal will I find out that my characters who I love are all these terrible archetypes of inaction?
What meaning am I tucking away like a huge pencil in one of those Highlights hidden picture puzzles - obvious to everyone but me.
I've been thinking a lot about the things in yourself that are so clear to the rest of the world and so surprising when brought to your attention.
I'm not sure that I think it's a bad thing that I can still surprise myself.
I've just spent hours critiquing three fellow classmates' stories for advanced writing... Hours on something that's entirely subjective and is quite possibly going to be glanced over and disregarded because there is so much blue ink all over the page... or (for the one that I thought was really good) disregarded because there isn't that much... and he won't even really understand how much better I really thought his writing was, because he won't know how much ink I use on other people's stories.
The bases are all good- or at least acceptable. But in a critique all I really know to do is alter wording and phrasing as I would like for it to be, and hope that I don't horrendously insult someone in the process. I don't want to insult anyone.
It's kinda weird that the story I thought was the best done might be the one I liked the the least.
But then again I think it is the one that I would label as the most "literary." You see, I don't really like analyzing literature. I want to write it, and I'm fine with someone else analyzing what I write, but the fun for me is in the creation, not in the search for meaning. So I enjoy creating a story for class and I really appreciate the class that's telling me how/what people do when they create, but I think I'd rather just sit down with the author and ask what they were trying to say with their writing than approach a work with a certain criticism style and then extrapolate until I get the meaning I want.
But then I'd never be given those brilliant insights like the other night in Shakespeare...
It's just not a very peaceful life, is it? Dauntlessly trying to figure out the meaning hidden not one, not two, not three levels deep, but 20 levels down. And I have to wonder if the artist even meant for there to be these 20 levels of meaning or if, like me, they were just writing. They were just releasing the things scrambled up inside their head that needed release.
Will I find out after my work is critiqued that I'm racist, or sexist, or pretentious?
If I ever get a major publishing deal will I find out that my characters who I love are all these terrible archetypes of inaction?
What meaning am I tucking away like a huge pencil in one of those Highlights hidden picture puzzles - obvious to everyone but me.
I've been thinking a lot about the things in yourself that are so clear to the rest of the world and so surprising when brought to your attention.
I'm not sure that I think it's a bad thing that I can still surprise myself.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
"The Birth of the Bard" *
Yesterday's word was: mentee- So close, Rhonda! (As a side note, you are most likely to choose the word that I purposely throw in as a red herring, which probably says something about the way we think...) Also Paula, your comment from yesterday disappeared.. And that was a great verse. :) Michael's comment also ran away... Hopefully you guys removed them and I don't have some random comment eating gremlin on my blog.
A phantasmagoric quote from class tonight.
It was the last thing that was said, and I think something that is going to stick with me for quite some time, though I may have already forgotten most of the rest of those three hours.
"The poet is born at the death of Adonis. Venus becomes no longer a goddess but a human because she can understand what human love is. Indeed she decrees that henceforth love goes along with pain and disappointment to mirror her own experience with Adonis. And the flower that comes from Adonis's blood spilled on the ground is Shakespeare, because he, too is being born as a poet, as a bard, in love and pain. Because a poet is someone who understands life and love and pain more deeply than most people bother to look." -James Baumlin lecturing on the theory of his wife, Tita Baumlin.
I'm not sure that this quote translates to how *deeply* I felt it, when Dr. Mr. Baumlin said it.
But as he was speaking it was almost as if he was striking a tuning fork inside my mind with his words... the resonance was that pronounced and that strong.
It sounds/feels so much like my own story. The writer in me was really only born in the death of Nathan. When I finally felt that I understood something more intrinsically than many people do. When I finally felt like I had something of merit to say.
*The title of this blog post is the title of the paper that my Shakespeare professor, Dr. Tita Baumlin, wrote on Venus and Adonis, which her husband told us this evening is the "seminal work" on that particular poem... and I believe him.
A phantasmagoric quote from class tonight.
It was the last thing that was said, and I think something that is going to stick with me for quite some time, though I may have already forgotten most of the rest of those three hours.
"The poet is born at the death of Adonis. Venus becomes no longer a goddess but a human because she can understand what human love is. Indeed she decrees that henceforth love goes along with pain and disappointment to mirror her own experience with Adonis. And the flower that comes from Adonis's blood spilled on the ground is Shakespeare, because he, too is being born as a poet, as a bard, in love and pain. Because a poet is someone who understands life and love and pain more deeply than most people bother to look." -James Baumlin lecturing on the theory of his wife, Tita Baumlin.
I'm not sure that this quote translates to how *deeply* I felt it, when Dr. Mr. Baumlin said it.
But as he was speaking it was almost as if he was striking a tuning fork inside my mind with his words... the resonance was that pronounced and that strong.
It sounds/feels so much like my own story. The writer in me was really only born in the death of Nathan. When I finally felt that I understood something more intrinsically than many people do. When I finally felt like I had something of merit to say.
*The title of this blog post is the title of the paper that my Shakespeare professor, Dr. Tita Baumlin, wrote on Venus and Adonis, which her husband told us this evening is the "seminal work" on that particular poem... and I believe him.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
What's worse?
Yesterday's word was: attache(s)
"Imagination is always so much worse than the truth."
A girl said this today in one of my classes and I found myself filled with rage.
And I'm not normally a rage-filled kind of girl.
In fact, I'm normally a rage-destitute kind of girl.
But it's just such crap.
She was using this quote to argue that something in a story should be more vague than it was (and let me be clear, it was already quite obtuse enough in my humble opinion.) And she was saying that it should be left up to the imagination, because the imagination can create things that are a thousand times worse. I'm pretty sure she even said, "Like when someone dies, you can deal with that- but the not-knowing is a lot harder." Though, to be fair, my blood was already boiling at that point and so I might be mis-quoting her terribly.
Here's the thing. Not-knowing is indeed awful. It really is. I've been there and all I wanted was to know what was happening so I could deal with it.
But imagination is only worse than the truth when... it's worse than the truth. In this case, the situation she was referring to in the story was child (sexual) abuse. Nope. Imagination isn't worse than that.
Imagination also isn't worse than a cancer diagnosis. Or widowhood. Because I *couldn't* imagine in a myriad of ways before it became truth, just what exactly it meant.
Imagination always being worse than the truth is something that people tell each other to make themselves feel better when they are afraid of something. But the worst case scenario does exist and if it actually happens, it will turn out to be so much worse than you thought it would be.
That's why I think choosing not to worry is the best plan.. and yes, that is a choice sometimes.
There are so many more things in this life that are a choice than seem to be at first blush.
On top of all that, I never think making something less relate-able and understandable is a good way to go.
I almost called her out on it. It was close. But I refrained, because sometimes you just get started talking and you say things that you know are stupid and then you have no way to backtrack and recant... And that's what I'm choosing to believe of this girl.
But, you can bet your bottom dollar that I felt righteous when the professor basically offered up the exact opposite advice... which was more in keeping with my own.
"Imagination is always so much worse than the truth."
A girl said this today in one of my classes and I found myself filled with rage.
And I'm not normally a rage-filled kind of girl.
In fact, I'm normally a rage-destitute kind of girl.
But it's just such crap.
She was using this quote to argue that something in a story should be more vague than it was (and let me be clear, it was already quite obtuse enough in my humble opinion.) And she was saying that it should be left up to the imagination, because the imagination can create things that are a thousand times worse. I'm pretty sure she even said, "Like when someone dies, you can deal with that- but the not-knowing is a lot harder." Though, to be fair, my blood was already boiling at that point and so I might be mis-quoting her terribly.
Here's the thing. Not-knowing is indeed awful. It really is. I've been there and all I wanted was to know what was happening so I could deal with it.
But imagination is only worse than the truth when... it's worse than the truth. In this case, the situation she was referring to in the story was child (sexual) abuse. Nope. Imagination isn't worse than that.
Imagination also isn't worse than a cancer diagnosis. Or widowhood. Because I *couldn't* imagine in a myriad of ways before it became truth, just what exactly it meant.
Imagination always being worse than the truth is something that people tell each other to make themselves feel better when they are afraid of something. But the worst case scenario does exist and if it actually happens, it will turn out to be so much worse than you thought it would be.
That's why I think choosing not to worry is the best plan.. and yes, that is a choice sometimes.
There are so many more things in this life that are a choice than seem to be at first blush.
On top of all that, I never think making something less relate-able and understandable is a good way to go.
I almost called her out on it. It was close. But I refrained, because sometimes you just get started talking and you say things that you know are stupid and then you have no way to backtrack and recant... And that's what I'm choosing to believe of this girl.
But, you can bet your bottom dollar that I felt righteous when the professor basically offered up the exact opposite advice... which was more in keeping with my own.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Free Lemons
Well, I think I've made the decision... I don't think I'm going to take a class this semester.
I've been going back and forth for a long time, and basically it boils down to a few things.
1) I lead a pretty busy life already and I want to have time to work on writing this book.
2) Classes are expensive and playwriting isn't something that I'm sure I want to get into.
3) I'd have to stop going to small group for a semester.
4) I already know of 2 classes I would have to miss.
I know, fewer ways to meet new people if I don't go to a class, but if that's really my goal I think I should be considering a master's degree rather than just a few classes off and on.
It's a really fine line, balancing life goals and being content with what God's given you... Because in some ways you have to want more than what you have to even have a goal, but I also don't want to be dissatisfied or even insinuate that I don't think what I have is enough. Because it really is.
I realized something today that I consider to be absolutely incredible. I'm looking forward to the 29th. And the reason I'm looking forward to it is that I have some really great friends who are committed to making the day not suck for me, so they've planned a fun activity where I can see and hang out with lot of people. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be this well-adjusted and normal following the death of my spouse... but I'm also pretty sure most people don't have the benefit of wonderful friends like mine.
I'm not as content as I could be with what I've been given.... It's sooo easy to focus on the have-nots rather than the haves.... Ok, so I don't have a person to share my life with, a million dollars, or a pony... but I do have incredible friends- more being added all the time, relative financial stability (and considering medical expenses that could have easily been untrue), and the leisure time with which I can pursue the career and pastimes that I enjoy. So many people in this world couldn't say that. So I'm working on being content when God's timing isn't mine.
I just need to remember that even when life is handing you lemons, you are still getting free lemons...
And there are grocery stores all over the freaking place...
And lemon bars are yummy.
I've been going back and forth for a long time, and basically it boils down to a few things.
1) I lead a pretty busy life already and I want to have time to work on writing this book.
2) Classes are expensive and playwriting isn't something that I'm sure I want to get into.
3) I'd have to stop going to small group for a semester.
4) I already know of 2 classes I would have to miss.
I know, fewer ways to meet new people if I don't go to a class, but if that's really my goal I think I should be considering a master's degree rather than just a few classes off and on.
It's a really fine line, balancing life goals and being content with what God's given you... Because in some ways you have to want more than what you have to even have a goal, but I also don't want to be dissatisfied or even insinuate that I don't think what I have is enough. Because it really is.
I realized something today that I consider to be absolutely incredible. I'm looking forward to the 29th. And the reason I'm looking forward to it is that I have some really great friends who are committed to making the day not suck for me, so they've planned a fun activity where I can see and hang out with lot of people. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be this well-adjusted and normal following the death of my spouse... but I'm also pretty sure most people don't have the benefit of wonderful friends like mine.
I'm not as content as I could be with what I've been given.... It's sooo easy to focus on the have-nots rather than the haves.... Ok, so I don't have a person to share my life with, a million dollars, or a pony... but I do have incredible friends- more being added all the time, relative financial stability (and considering medical expenses that could have easily been untrue), and the leisure time with which I can pursue the career and pastimes that I enjoy. So many people in this world couldn't say that. So I'm working on being content when God's timing isn't mine.
I just need to remember that even when life is handing you lemons, you are still getting free lemons...
And there are grocery stores all over the freaking place...
And lemon bars are yummy.
Friday, January 13, 2012
To Class or not to class
Quick- should I sign up for a playwriting class that starts on Tuesday? Why can't I decide?? I'm not getting any sort of read on which would be the better way to go. Lately the pro/con list has been a letting me down.
You know it really is amazing how much better I feel if I go to Starbucks for a few hours before I come home. Only problem with that is the purchase of a drink when I go there. Yummy but not really fiscally responsible.... but then again if I'm paying for a better mood...
I think Starbucks might be the adult version of a fraternity/sorority.
Forget this whole finding a new man thing. I want my old one back. He was great. Lets just get him back here.
Being lonely is just so darn frustrating. Cause there isn't much you can do to fix it (usually the more you try the worst it gets.) And the fix is so simple, but so hard to perfect.
And I have the added frustration of having already fixed this.. and now all my tools are rusty and out of date. God, just fix this, please?
Sadly, I pray that pretty darn often. Or maybe it's good that I pray it so often and it's just my American sensibilities that think it's sad.
I feel like I'm suffering from an interesting topic drought. I blame video games.
Maybe I should take the class I... it might make my life more interesting... That's rather amusing when you think about it- I want to take a writing course so I have something to write about.
You know it really is amazing how much better I feel if I go to Starbucks for a few hours before I come home. Only problem with that is the purchase of a drink when I go there. Yummy but not really fiscally responsible.... but then again if I'm paying for a better mood...
I think Starbucks might be the adult version of a fraternity/sorority.
Forget this whole finding a new man thing. I want my old one back. He was great. Lets just get him back here.
Being lonely is just so darn frustrating. Cause there isn't much you can do to fix it (usually the more you try the worst it gets.) And the fix is so simple, but so hard to perfect.
And I have the added frustration of having already fixed this.. and now all my tools are rusty and out of date. God, just fix this, please?
Sadly, I pray that pretty darn often. Or maybe it's good that I pray it so often and it's just my American sensibilities that think it's sad.
I feel like I'm suffering from an interesting topic drought. I blame video games.
Maybe I should take the class I... it might make my life more interesting... That's rather amusing when you think about it- I want to take a writing course so I have something to write about.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Frivolous things
I'm trying to write a blog post, but it's very difficult, because Rhonda and I are having a conversation on my facebook status update... currently at 20 posts. If that doesn't make "top news" I don't know what will.
PS I've changed my mind and decided my nails look like a peacock feather... Decide for yourself:
The camera doesn't do the purple glitter justice. Seriously? Is my blog going to devolve into an exhibition of what I do to my nails when I get bored? I hope not.
Yet here I sit... leaving up pictures of my peacock nails.
Today I put on a pair of pants that were too small this time last year... and now they are too big and I have to use the hair-tie method to make them fit.... and even then they are a little too big. The hair-tie method is this: Take a hairtie, double it over your belt loop and attach to button... Melissa taught it to me.
I also wore a shirt/dress that I bought on the 4th of July... at that time the undershirt didn't fit... It does now.
Am I the only person who thinks weight-loss feels like magic?
I don't think I look that much different from 6 months ago, but my clothes are telling a different story.
The other day I fit into a dress that I hadn't worn for like 8 years...
But I still feel the same.... I think I still look the same.
It's magic I tell ya.
The semester is over... I think I freaked a girl out today by saying that I hadn't taught school for 4 years.... I'm pretty sure I don't look my age, and most of the people in my class don't know my story. All I know is I said, "I don't know that was... (I looked at my former student who was in the class with me and was sitting next to me) 4 years?"
and she said, "I was a sophomore..." And other girl was suddenly leaning over to her friends, asking something. I've discovered the fountain of youth and it is college.
Here's the main problem with working and going to school at the same time.... I feel like I should get a break from work too... but I gotta go in tomorrow just like always.
When do I get to quit my job and support myself as an author?
After I get an agent and a multi-million dollar book deal?
That's like... 2012, right?
PS I've changed my mind and decided my nails look like a peacock feather... Decide for yourself:
The camera doesn't do the purple glitter justice. Seriously? Is my blog going to devolve into an exhibition of what I do to my nails when I get bored? I hope not.
Yet here I sit... leaving up pictures of my peacock nails.
Today I put on a pair of pants that were too small this time last year... and now they are too big and I have to use the hair-tie method to make them fit.... and even then they are a little too big. The hair-tie method is this: Take a hairtie, double it over your belt loop and attach to button... Melissa taught it to me.
I also wore a shirt/dress that I bought on the 4th of July... at that time the undershirt didn't fit... It does now.
Am I the only person who thinks weight-loss feels like magic?
I don't think I look that much different from 6 months ago, but my clothes are telling a different story.
The other day I fit into a dress that I hadn't worn for like 8 years...
But I still feel the same.... I think I still look the same.
It's magic I tell ya.
The semester is over... I think I freaked a girl out today by saying that I hadn't taught school for 4 years.... I'm pretty sure I don't look my age, and most of the people in my class don't know my story. All I know is I said, "I don't know that was... (I looked at my former student who was in the class with me and was sitting next to me) 4 years?"
and she said, "I was a sophomore..." And other girl was suddenly leaning over to her friends, asking something. I've discovered the fountain of youth and it is college.
Here's the main problem with working and going to school at the same time.... I feel like I should get a break from work too... but I gotta go in tomorrow just like always.
When do I get to quit my job and support myself as an author?
After I get an agent and a multi-million dollar book deal?
That's like... 2012, right?
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Just as you are
Printing off all the incarnations of your work and labeling them correctly and figuring out how to put it all in a portfolio is hard.... especially when your computer is being frustrating and not printing things with the comments included.
2 more classes and a "final." That's weird.
In some ways I'm really glad the class is ending.. and in some ways I'm sad. I've made a few friends that I hope I will be keeping.. but without seeing them 2-3 times a week it might be hard.
I'm officially in the bone marrow donor registry. Got that e-mail today.
I'm out of interesting things to say, unfortunately. It's all run it's course and it's over. It's been fun. I'm glad that I could regale you with stories of Gummi Bears, hats, lemon bars and my British GPS, but apparently it's all over.
At least until tomorrow when I think of something else to say.
Until then, enjoy this- One of my absolute favorite moments from the movies.
I like you very much. Just as you are.
2 more classes and a "final." That's weird.
In some ways I'm really glad the class is ending.. and in some ways I'm sad. I've made a few friends that I hope I will be keeping.. but without seeing them 2-3 times a week it might be hard.
I'm officially in the bone marrow donor registry. Got that e-mail today.
I'm out of interesting things to say, unfortunately. It's all run it's course and it's over. It's been fun. I'm glad that I could regale you with stories of Gummi Bears, hats, lemon bars and my British GPS, but apparently it's all over.
At least until tomorrow when I think of something else to say.
Until then, enjoy this- One of my absolute favorite moments from the movies.
I like you very much. Just as you are.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
in brief
It's really difficult to reformat something that you've written in a way that makes sense to you into a way that makes sense to the rest of the world.
I battled with my storyboard for class pretty well all night and I still don't know if the end result is what it was supposed to be.
I'm the first person to post so I think everyone else is struggling with it, too.
I'm re-reading my blog-- I'm on June 22nd. I have a lot to say!
OK I know it's only 1AM but I'm really tired, and there is a lot that needs to be accomplished tomorrow, So I think I will bid you goodnight.
I want to read a book... but I don't have much time, because I'm trying to write one...
Quite the conundrum pie I've got here.
mmmmmm pie.
I battled with my storyboard for class pretty well all night and I still don't know if the end result is what it was supposed to be.
I'm the first person to post so I think everyone else is struggling with it, too.
I'm re-reading my blog-- I'm on June 22nd. I have a lot to say!
OK I know it's only 1AM but I'm really tired, and there is a lot that needs to be accomplished tomorrow, So I think I will bid you goodnight.
I want to read a book... but I don't have much time, because I'm trying to write one...
Quite the conundrum pie I've got here.
mmmmmm pie.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Buttercup, baby.
Sooo... my mom is having some medical concerns that I just realized I've not gotten clearance to make known to the entirety of the internet... so I won't tell you what's going on, but I will ask you to pray... I don't deal so well with family medical issues --even the relatively minor ones.
**edit** She told Facebook so I feel that it's ok to tell you: She has a really low iron count and they don't know why. She doesn't have an ulcer and they aren't sure what else could be the reason, but she had to go in today for a blood transfusion. While she is there they will do some more blood work to see if they can figure it out, and she has a colonoscopy scheduled for 2 weeks from now to see if that will reveal anything.
She blames the air in northern MO... or the Taliban.
I come by my sense of humor honestly.
**new edit. Her iron is up now and she doesn't need the transfusion... But they don't know why it's fluctuating so much either... I guess that's the new thing they will be looking into.
I got my critiques back from my One Act... some things suggested I absolutely disagreed with... most people were very complimentary and my teacher actually wrote- "So often writers become so dark with the subject (death), but your soul has this wonderful light in it. I think your perspective needs to be out there in this sad world."
**edit** She told Facebook so I feel that it's ok to tell you: She has a really low iron count and they don't know why. She doesn't have an ulcer and they aren't sure what else could be the reason, but she had to go in today for a blood transfusion. While she is there they will do some more blood work to see if they can figure it out, and she has a colonoscopy scheduled for 2 weeks from now to see if that will reveal anything.
She blames the air in northern MO... or the Taliban.
I come by my sense of humor honestly.
**new edit. Her iron is up now and she doesn't need the transfusion... But they don't know why it's fluctuating so much either... I guess that's the new thing they will be looking into.
I got my critiques back from my One Act... some things suggested I absolutely disagreed with... most people were very complimentary and my teacher actually wrote- "So often writers become so dark with the subject (death), but your soul has this wonderful light in it. I think your perspective needs to be out there in this sad world."
Yeah.
Apparently the good Lord is trying to give me a lift because that was the second round of seriously flattering compliments in a 24 hour period.
Is it bad that I'm slightly suspicious that a piano is about to be dropped on my head in order to deflate my ego?
Why do you build me up, Buttercup, baby, just to let me down?
Yes, I did just call my Heavenly Father "Buttercup, baby." Hopefully He's chuckling fondly at me and my crazy antics, not preparing the smite.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Procrastiblogging
The good news is I've found a writing group of people who are super talented and really smart. I think they will be able to give me solid critiques and feedback and point me in the right direction when I get lost or stuck and I respect them.
The bad news is: they are both a lot farther ahead of me in terms of actually getting a book on paper... or screen as the case may be.
Guess I know what I'll be doing this weekend.
But first... I have to clean up this office... and I think I need Starbucks.Venti.
Hi, My name is Renée and I make procrastination an art form... even when I *like* what I'm doing.
The bad news is: they are both a lot farther ahead of me in terms of actually getting a book on paper... or screen as the case may be.
Guess I know what I'll be doing this weekend.
But first... I have to clean up this office... and I think I need Starbucks.Venti.
Hi, My name is Renée and I make procrastination an art form... even when I *like* what I'm doing.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
A fate most cruel
You know what more people need to know?? Just how darn attractive an expansive vocabulary is. Especially when subtly slipped into conversation, rather than used as a blunt weapon over the head, because you fancy yourself a "wordsmith."
I might, maybe, sometimes, have a tendency to caricature-ize to people... "wordsmith" among them.. But come on! You know who I'm talking about! The person who only uses 20 dollar words because he/she thinks it makes them interesting, when really it just makes them tedious. You know someone like this! (crosses fingers, closes eyes and whispers, "Please don't say me, please don't say me.")
TOPIC CHANGE!
You know what's really strange??
I still don't know what it's like to lose a friend. I mean yes, obviously Nathan was my friend.... but he was so much more than that, that it doesn't count... and now I'm about to sit down and *crank* out a One-Act-- or Reader's Theatre Script (tbd) and I don't really know what it's like to lose a friend... Weird. I imagine I can find a way to do it... but it's a strange thing to realize you don't know what moderation is when it comes to grief... and here I thought I knew everything. :)
It is a fate most cruel that I'm most inspired at 1:00 in the morning... on a day that I only got a few hours of sleep in, when I have a long day tomorrow, and no time in which to nap. Seriously, brain? You couldn't have gotten this inspired at 9:00 tonight?
I just accidentally signed an e-mail to my friends "Nae." I'm talking about college friends who have never called me "Nae" in the entire time we've known each other. (One of them was Kara and even she's never called me Nae.) There is probably some deep meaning to this regression, but right now all I can think is- "I am so weird!"
I currently have a web browser open with 18 tabs... God bless internet research.
and Kurt.
God Bless, Kurt!
I might, maybe, sometimes, have a tendency to caricature-ize to people... "wordsmith" among them.. But come on! You know who I'm talking about! The person who only uses 20 dollar words because he/she thinks it makes them interesting, when really it just makes them tedious. You know someone like this! (crosses fingers, closes eyes and whispers, "Please don't say me, please don't say me.")
TOPIC CHANGE!
You know what's really strange??
I still don't know what it's like to lose a friend. I mean yes, obviously Nathan was my friend.... but he was so much more than that, that it doesn't count... and now I'm about to sit down and *crank* out a One-Act-- or Reader's Theatre Script (tbd) and I don't really know what it's like to lose a friend... Weird. I imagine I can find a way to do it... but it's a strange thing to realize you don't know what moderation is when it comes to grief... and here I thought I knew everything. :)
It is a fate most cruel that I'm most inspired at 1:00 in the morning... on a day that I only got a few hours of sleep in, when I have a long day tomorrow, and no time in which to nap. Seriously, brain? You couldn't have gotten this inspired at 9:00 tonight?
I just accidentally signed an e-mail to my friends "Nae." I'm talking about college friends who have never called me "Nae" in the entire time we've known each other. (One of them was Kara and even she's never called me Nae.) There is probably some deep meaning to this regression, but right now all I can think is- "I am so weird!"
I currently have a web browser open with 18 tabs... God bless internet research.
and Kurt.
God Bless, Kurt!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Procrastination Station
Dag, yo.
I don't know why but it's been so hard for me to write lately... I sit down and I just keep putting it off.. seems like the only time I want to write or have inspiration is when I can't.
Like right now. I *need* to be trying to figure out my Reader's Theatre script. So I'm blogging because I told myself I couldn't get up until I at least wrote something...
Plots are hard.
I can dialogue with two people in my head for hours... but plots? Things have to happen?!? Dang it!
Part of the problem is that in some of my favorite one acts... the "plot" is really rather subtle. Because you don't have time to give the characters much to do if you are going to develop them at all. And if you don't develop them then you've got a melodrama and I don't really like melodramas.
That and I always want to be completely original... but there are really only like 5 story plots in the entirety of the world... it's just how you twist them... and figuring out how to twist something.. it's a lot harder than it looks... Sometimes I worry that I've read way too much, because it feels like every idea I have is based on another one. But that's what they are always telling you to do if you want to write. Read read read.
The other day in class someone said they loved a book. And that they read it so quickly that they finished it in "two marathon sessions." This book had less than 200 pages.... I knew I wasn't that into it because it took me 2 sessions to finish it (instead of reading it all in one go.) Perspective is WEEEEIRD.
Seriously... It's even hard for me to focus on this and all I really need to do for blogging is just type what is going on in my head.... Thank you, by the way, for thinking that the thoughts that run through my head are interesting enough to read.
Pinterest makes me want to bake.
Costume is almost finished-- Just need to add some red to the sleeves, make my headband, and find a cute little friend.... or an apple.
Oh and I did go back to the mall to buy more thermal shirts with thumb holes. I like em!
... Plus I like that I can buy shirts in the Jrs section again, too.
I might need to go buy some smaller sized jeans, too. Sah-weet!
Well it's 10:15, and I've not written a lick on my class work... I think it's time to finish that disc of HIMYM... Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at Procrastination Station. Please wait until the train comes to a complete stop and then proceed to the exits in an orderly fashion... you know... when you feel like it... eventually....
I don't know why but it's been so hard for me to write lately... I sit down and I just keep putting it off.. seems like the only time I want to write or have inspiration is when I can't.
Like right now. I *need* to be trying to figure out my Reader's Theatre script. So I'm blogging because I told myself I couldn't get up until I at least wrote something...
Plots are hard.
I can dialogue with two people in my head for hours... but plots? Things have to happen?!? Dang it!
Part of the problem is that in some of my favorite one acts... the "plot" is really rather subtle. Because you don't have time to give the characters much to do if you are going to develop them at all. And if you don't develop them then you've got a melodrama and I don't really like melodramas.
That and I always want to be completely original... but there are really only like 5 story plots in the entirety of the world... it's just how you twist them... and figuring out how to twist something.. it's a lot harder than it looks... Sometimes I worry that I've read way too much, because it feels like every idea I have is based on another one. But that's what they are always telling you to do if you want to write. Read read read.
The other day in class someone said they loved a book. And that they read it so quickly that they finished it in "two marathon sessions." This book had less than 200 pages.... I knew I wasn't that into it because it took me 2 sessions to finish it (instead of reading it all in one go.) Perspective is WEEEEIRD.
Seriously... It's even hard for me to focus on this and all I really need to do for blogging is just type what is going on in my head.... Thank you, by the way, for thinking that the thoughts that run through my head are interesting enough to read.
Pinterest makes me want to bake.
Costume is almost finished-- Just need to add some red to the sleeves, make my headband, and find a cute little friend.... or an apple.
Oh and I did go back to the mall to buy more thermal shirts with thumb holes. I like em!
... Plus I like that I can buy shirts in the Jrs section again, too.
I might need to go buy some smaller sized jeans, too. Sah-weet!
Well it's 10:15, and I've not written a lick on my class work... I think it's time to finish that disc of HIMYM... Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at Procrastination Station. Please wait until the train comes to a complete stop and then proceed to the exits in an orderly fashion... you know... when you feel like it... eventually....
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Salesman's Nightmare
It's amazing how intimidating writing something can be.. every night I keep thinking it will be the night I sit down and start cranking out a script... (one act or reader's theatre is the next assignment.) And then I do no cranking. I have a few ideas... but I think I'm waiting for that flash of inspiration... I need to just start writing and then it will hit I think... yet I let myself be intimidated. Deadlines are great though... I think if I become a real-life author it will be slightly easier because I will have deadlines... Of course maybe not, since I don't actually have any idea how being an author works, except for what I see on TV/Movies.
Did I tell you the story of my nail?
One day Renée went to go get her mail. But instead of reaching into the mailbox, Renée just slammed her hand into the side of her mail cubby. It hurt really bad, and she might have even said a bad word in her head. When she looked at her hand her pinkie nail had started to rip and the whole nail was slightly cockeyed. Now it's hard for Renée to type because she can't really use her pinkie.
The moral of the story is: Don't be a clutz.
akimbo is a fabulous word, don't you think?
Akimbo and amuck.
I'm getting pastries in the mail sometime this week. Isn't that just fabulous?
Someone remind me to do laundry tomorrow. I need clean clothes.
I think that I've determined that I view a person's online presence as nearly the same thing as their actual presence. Perhaps why I love facebook so much? I think that I'm odd for this.
I've had two conversations in two days about the relationship between a husband and wife, and how it works... and I've realized that 1) I have super traditional thoughts on this and 2) it's not necessarily how most people think. I was talking to a friend who told me I needed to move to New Zealand- long story. But anyway I refused because I would need at least half of my friendship circle to move as well to be able to make it in a different country. But then I said, if a New Zealand guy came over, swept me off my feet, and married me then I'd move, cause I'd move to New Zealand for my husband. My friend said, "That must be some cool guy." (well, obviously if I'm marrying him!) But I said, "You got that wrong- I'm a cool chick... and sides... if we are married then... well... we're married." And then again today I was talking to someone else about this and wives kinda decreeing what the guy is going to do with his life... and I said... But that just doesn't make sense... cause I mean if the other person cares about something and is passionate about it... you support them.
Am I setting the feminist movement back 100 years by saying that my natural inclination is to support/follow my husband where he goes? I don't think so? I'm not saying that I can't have a career, or that he shouldn't support my passions and desires as well... but I wouldn't stand in his way just because I was uncomfortable with a new city or because I had a different plan for our life. And my first instinct is to think of his needs... just like he should be thinking of mine.
Of course I don't want to be told I have to make those kind of sacrifices, either. I want to feel like I'm choosing to make them... so perhaps I have a bit of a stubborn streak after all. I really don't respond well to being told how I should do something or only being given 2 options. I tend to balk.... and then create a third option for myself.
I am a salesman's nightmare.
And salesmen are mine.
Did I tell you the story of my nail?
One day Renée went to go get her mail. But instead of reaching into the mailbox, Renée just slammed her hand into the side of her mail cubby. It hurt really bad, and she might have even said a bad word in her head. When she looked at her hand her pinkie nail had started to rip and the whole nail was slightly cockeyed. Now it's hard for Renée to type because she can't really use her pinkie.
The moral of the story is: Don't be a clutz.
akimbo is a fabulous word, don't you think?
Akimbo and amuck.
I'm getting pastries in the mail sometime this week. Isn't that just fabulous?
Someone remind me to do laundry tomorrow. I need clean clothes.
I think that I've determined that I view a person's online presence as nearly the same thing as their actual presence. Perhaps why I love facebook so much? I think that I'm odd for this.
I've had two conversations in two days about the relationship between a husband and wife, and how it works... and I've realized that 1) I have super traditional thoughts on this and 2) it's not necessarily how most people think. I was talking to a friend who told me I needed to move to New Zealand- long story. But anyway I refused because I would need at least half of my friendship circle to move as well to be able to make it in a different country. But then I said, if a New Zealand guy came over, swept me off my feet, and married me then I'd move, cause I'd move to New Zealand for my husband. My friend said, "That must be some cool guy." (well, obviously if I'm marrying him!) But I said, "You got that wrong- I'm a cool chick... and sides... if we are married then... well... we're married." And then again today I was talking to someone else about this and wives kinda decreeing what the guy is going to do with his life... and I said... But that just doesn't make sense... cause I mean if the other person cares about something and is passionate about it... you support them.
Am I setting the feminist movement back 100 years by saying that my natural inclination is to support/follow my husband where he goes? I don't think so? I'm not saying that I can't have a career, or that he shouldn't support my passions and desires as well... but I wouldn't stand in his way just because I was uncomfortable with a new city or because I had a different plan for our life. And my first instinct is to think of his needs... just like he should be thinking of mine.
Of course I don't want to be told I have to make those kind of sacrifices, either. I want to feel like I'm choosing to make them... so perhaps I have a bit of a stubborn streak after all. I really don't respond well to being told how I should do something or only being given 2 options. I tend to balk.... and then create a third option for myself.
I am a salesman's nightmare.
And salesmen are mine.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Craving human interaction
With the exception of game night, the most human interaction I have had all week was in my writing class. That's right. All hour and 15 minutes of class is the greatest amount of time I've spent with anyone all week, besides game night which it sounds like might be ending with the holidays...
So that's nearly over, another set of friends is moving away at the end of the month, and several other friends/people have moved away in the past few months. So much change, so much loss, so much different... and here I am desperately flailing to figure out how to have a single person's social life.
I kinda feel like I'm going crazy, but... people are busy. My friends have lives and significant others and other friends and babies and families and Octoberfest... and all of this would be fine and normal if Nathan was still here.
I would have what I needed and while I'd miss everyone... people have busy seasons and I know schedules will lighten up eventually... but now... now everyone else's life has returned to what it was before, basically... or has moved on at least. And that means that I'm not a priority. I hate being needy. It's not something that makes people want to hang out with you... but what am I supposed to do??
Someone get me back in the dorms. At least in the dorms if I wanted company all I had to do was start baking and let the 2nd floor know. That was a good system. It worked out well back when I had like 60 guys who enjoyed freshly baked goods at my disposal.
So that's nearly over, another set of friends is moving away at the end of the month, and several other friends/people have moved away in the past few months. So much change, so much loss, so much different... and here I am desperately flailing to figure out how to have a single person's social life.
I kinda feel like I'm going crazy, but... people are busy. My friends have lives and significant others and other friends and babies and families and Octoberfest... and all of this would be fine and normal if Nathan was still here.
I would have what I needed and while I'd miss everyone... people have busy seasons and I know schedules will lighten up eventually... but now... now everyone else's life has returned to what it was before, basically... or has moved on at least. And that means that I'm not a priority. I hate being needy. It's not something that makes people want to hang out with you... but what am I supposed to do??
Someone get me back in the dorms. At least in the dorms if I wanted company all I had to do was start baking and let the 2nd floor know. That was a good system. It worked out well back when I had like 60 guys who enjoyed freshly baked goods at my disposal.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Revel in the Awesome
I know that this feeling shall pass, as all feelings do, but for right now I would like to revel in the awesome.
I sent in my story for peer review Monday afternoon. I was kinda nervous about it, because it wasn't anything like most of the stories that were already in. It is for younger kids, the chapters are *much* shorter than anything anyone had done (though similar in length to the early readers I found in the library). And most of all, it was in first person.
But I went ahead and submitted it, because I wasn't happy with my other attempt at an early reader.
Today we reviewed the early readers... and I got a rave.. Such a rave!
My teacher started out with saying that it made her laugh out loud. I responded, "Good!"
And then she said, "I'm not kidding, I was up in my office, sitting at my desk, laughing." I smiled, cause I felt this could only be to my good.
And then she said, "I only have valentines for you." (She calls things that we like about a work valentines.) And then I really started grinning. She then went on to say she thought it was ready to send out to the world and see if there is any interest in my story, but that I should look into finding an agent first. Agents are apparently harder to find/get, but necessary if you want to make a living off your work. She asked the class if they had any comments and everyone just said that they loved it. My professor even made a point of saying that she really looked for something to critique and just couldn't find anything. One student said it was brilliant and asked me what my process was for coming up with this story... I felt like a celebrity. Now, to be fair, if anyone hadn't liked it after such glowing reviews it would have been nigh on impossible for them speak up about it. But still, I'm thrilled.
I was bobbing my head- trying to look at Dr. Stringam as she was talking to me but unable to stop looking down because while it's lovely it's also embarrassing to be praised so much. And as we all know, a bowed head is a sign of humility. Several people told me good job as I was leaving the classroom. I was just... thrilled.
Of course, now I'm a bit paranoid that nothing is going to live up to my shining moment of an easy reader..... but who's it going to hurt to try? And I want the criticism. That's why I took the class. I want to know what people think and if there is any way to improve my work. But that's another day. Today I think I should just be inordinately proud of myself and tarry in this glow a bit.
I sent in my story for peer review Monday afternoon. I was kinda nervous about it, because it wasn't anything like most of the stories that were already in. It is for younger kids, the chapters are *much* shorter than anything anyone had done (though similar in length to the early readers I found in the library). And most of all, it was in first person.
But I went ahead and submitted it, because I wasn't happy with my other attempt at an early reader.
Today we reviewed the early readers... and I got a rave.. Such a rave!
My teacher started out with saying that it made her laugh out loud. I responded, "Good!"
And then she said, "I'm not kidding, I was up in my office, sitting at my desk, laughing." I smiled, cause I felt this could only be to my good.
And then she said, "I only have valentines for you." (She calls things that we like about a work valentines.) And then I really started grinning. She then went on to say she thought it was ready to send out to the world and see if there is any interest in my story, but that I should look into finding an agent first. Agents are apparently harder to find/get, but necessary if you want to make a living off your work. She asked the class if they had any comments and everyone just said that they loved it. My professor even made a point of saying that she really looked for something to critique and just couldn't find anything. One student said it was brilliant and asked me what my process was for coming up with this story... I felt like a celebrity. Now, to be fair, if anyone hadn't liked it after such glowing reviews it would have been nigh on impossible for them speak up about it. But still, I'm thrilled.
I was bobbing my head- trying to look at Dr. Stringam as she was talking to me but unable to stop looking down because while it's lovely it's also embarrassing to be praised so much. And as we all know, a bowed head is a sign of humility. Several people told me good job as I was leaving the classroom. I was just... thrilled.
Of course, now I'm a bit paranoid that nothing is going to live up to my shining moment of an easy reader..... but who's it going to hurt to try? And I want the criticism. That's why I took the class. I want to know what people think and if there is any way to improve my work. But that's another day. Today I think I should just be inordinately proud of myself and tarry in this glow a bit.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Where the wild things blog
I got my car back today!! Everyone at the collision center was *much* friendlier than they were on Monday morning. People get grumbly on Mondays. All the damage was cosmetic- no internal damage, and because it was repaired at the dealership there is a warranty on it. It's ridiculous how excited I was to see it... and how glad I am that it no longer makes that horrible popping noise when I open the door. It felt like an old friend had come back to me. I talked to it when I got inside it, like it was a child. I introduced it to my new tights. No, I seriously did.
I swear I don't need psychological help... but if you don't believe me, no need to worry, one of my good friends is a counselor so she'd tell me if I did... and least I think she would.
I also spent a good deal of the day looking for some cute, black, closed-toe, medium height heels. I went to 7 different stores before I found some. 7 stores!?! Ach. It was ridiculous. *everything* is peep toe right now.... or 10 inches tall and glittery. Don't get me wrong, I love peep toe shoes, but they aren't super awesome with tights, and I might have mentioned my love of tights lately??
I should have spent at least some of today cleaning my place. I live in the city, not the country. Someone could stop by my house at any moment, and what wreck they would find!
Unfortunately all my greatest cleaning binges hit me at 3:30 in the morning. I'm kinda like a meth addict that way... but unlike the meth addict my response to these urges are something akin to: It's too late to clean, I might wake someone up... I think I'll go sleep instead.
I think I'll go to sleep and make mischief of one kind
or another.
Good night, moon.
Yes, that writing for children and YA class is rubbing off on me, in a big way.
I swear I don't need psychological help... but if you don't believe me, no need to worry, one of my good friends is a counselor so she'd tell me if I did... and least I think she would.
I also spent a good deal of the day looking for some cute, black, closed-toe, medium height heels. I went to 7 different stores before I found some. 7 stores!?! Ach. It was ridiculous. *everything* is peep toe right now.... or 10 inches tall and glittery. Don't get me wrong, I love peep toe shoes, but they aren't super awesome with tights, and I might have mentioned my love of tights lately??
I should have spent at least some of today cleaning my place. I live in the city, not the country. Someone could stop by my house at any moment, and what wreck they would find!
Unfortunately all my greatest cleaning binges hit me at 3:30 in the morning. I'm kinda like a meth addict that way... but unlike the meth addict my response to these urges are something akin to: It's too late to clean, I might wake someone up... I think I'll go sleep instead.
I think I'll go to sleep and make mischief of one kind
or another.
Good night, moon.
Yes, that writing for children and YA class is rubbing off on me, in a big way.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
I hate car accidents, they make me get up early.
I have an early morning, tomorrow, because I have to take my car to the collision center so they can check it out and order parts, so that I can (hopefully) take it in on Monday and they can fix it. Insurance agrees that it's the other girl's fault. I'm glad... though I wish this hadn't happened. Well, obviously. It's just annoying and sad. I'm getting Starbucks tomorrow morning to make my day a little brighter. I may even get the biggun'
My door pops when I open it and I wince and groan at it every single time I open up my door. I don't want to drive it anywhere... Basically all the things I did when I first got the car I now do in reverse. Oh Car why you so sad?
I read my picture book in class yesterday kind of impromptu-ly because we only had a few minutes and so the review had to be split, and everyone else's stories were too long to be read in 7 minutes. After I read it, I thought of a million things I wanted to alter about it, but you can't talk during the peer review. So I can't tell everyone that I've now noticed that it's not clear at first that they are talking about a little boy, or that I didn't mean to say moment in such quick succession and I'm cutting that out. Plus I've had to wait 2 days to hear what people have to say about it... and that's just nerve-wracking.
Oh peer review... I don't know how I can be so excited by you and so nervous about you at the same time.... oh wait, yes I do. I'm an extrovert and I want everyone to love me. Well that's solved.
Ok, enough chit chat.. have to be about quite early for me, so I must away to bed. Have a lovely bloomin' day!
My door pops when I open it and I wince and groan at it every single time I open up my door. I don't want to drive it anywhere... Basically all the things I did when I first got the car I now do in reverse. Oh Car why you so sad?
I read my picture book in class yesterday kind of impromptu-ly because we only had a few minutes and so the review had to be split, and everyone else's stories were too long to be read in 7 minutes. After I read it, I thought of a million things I wanted to alter about it, but you can't talk during the peer review. So I can't tell everyone that I've now noticed that it's not clear at first that they are talking about a little boy, or that I didn't mean to say moment in such quick succession and I'm cutting that out. Plus I've had to wait 2 days to hear what people have to say about it... and that's just nerve-wracking.
Oh peer review... I don't know how I can be so excited by you and so nervous about you at the same time.... oh wait, yes I do. I'm an extrovert and I want everyone to love me. Well that's solved.
Ok, enough chit chat.. have to be about quite early for me, so I must away to bed. Have a lovely bloomin' day!
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