All things MIA…

Speaking of things that have gone missing,

My monitor is not the only thing.

In the last few months I have also lost…

1. My camera charger (so I’ve been camera free for a while now–they’re not as helpful when they’re dead.)
2. My “Go Cats” bracelet. I know I lost it the Friday before homecoming. I just haven’t the foggiest idea where.
3. An audio book belonging to the public library (luckily that turned up in a rental car. They are spendy to replace.)
4. Two Netflix discs (Clue and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), and….
5. My sanity. But I’m thinking that might not have been such a big loss…specific amount I possessed was always questionable.

If you happen upon any of the above, please let me know.

A bit of an epiphany.

Lifestyle change.

Those are not my favorite words. Seriously…can you find any associations that you think of as positive?

When people encourage you to make a lifestyle change, it really means one thing.

You’re doing something wrong.

And that something is your life.

Depressing, no?

I’m trying to embrace this, in light of a diabetes diagnosis that I’m still adapting to. Because, in some ways, I’m failing.

Perfect example: I’ve lost my glucose monitor. I’ve been finger-pricking-free for two weeks.

This is a bad thing. I still have a serious mess in my room to wade through before I confirm that my monitor is gone for good, but if I can’t find it soon, I’ll have to buck up and buy a new one.

But, if I’m being pretty honest, it’s not just the pricetag that’s keeping me from getting a new monitor. (Though the pricetag stinks…it’s over $100 bucks!)

It’s also that I just really really REALLY don’t want to be sick.

Ignoring it is not a solution. I need to get on track. I’m trying to get this through my head.

I realized today that it’s not the only lifestyle change I need to be making. I love writing, and I’m working on a YA novel. I’ve gotten some good feedback, esp. at the SCBWI conference I attended recently. I was told I have a great voice, great characters, and good sense of humor. I was told that I should change some plot elements, but I was also told by an awesome editor at an awesome house that she would like to see this, or anything else I write, once I’m done.

That’s pretty cool. Pretty freakin’ amazing, actually. It’s a lead I simply MUST follow up on.

Eventually.

You see, it’s also going to take a lot of work. Apart from replotting, I still have to write the darn thing! This will take a long time. I have lots of ideas, but I have to put them on paper, and revise and rewrite them. And revise them, and revise them, and revise them.

It’s going to take a LONG time. Writing is not easy, even if you love it.

But every day I don’t work on my story makes it harder for my dreams to come to fruition. No one but me will suffer for it, but it’s just another day where I don’t get to be doing what I feel as though I’m supposed to do.

And saying, “I’ll do better tomorrow,” doesn’t mean much when you start saying it every day.

The same thing is true with my diabetes. I need to work at it every day. And if I do, eventually I’ll get somewhere new. Somewhere I want to be.

I know this is a departure from my usual funny stuff, but sometimes even I need to be serious.

Because it’s my life.

And I don’t want to live it wrong.

Poor neglected blog…

I’m in update mode–adding links to the blogs I follow regularly and planning to write more regularly.

If I’ve added you as a link and you’d like to be removed, just let me know.

And check back soon! Seriously–I’ve been stockpiling horror stories to share. 🙂

Kissy face. And Lipstick.

Shouting out to another blog…who recently decided to post a Flemmily story!

(A particularly embarrassing one, but so be it.)

Head on over to http://www.growwings.blogspot.com , home of the FABULOUS Laini Taylor (and Jim and Clementine).

Check out her First Kiss contest winners….

…I’m #3.

Missing my peeps…

Lately I’ve been spending lots of time in my home town with the fam.

And I really love being with them. I’m happier to get up in the morning (it doesn’t hurt that the coffee is always made), I have people to do things with, and there’s a big cat and a little puppy to play with.

But when I go back to MY home, I suddenly feel sad.

And kind of like I don’t have friends.

It’s not true–I have friends, but most of them are married and have their own lives going on OR they live REEEAAALLY far away, and I haven’t talked to them for a long time.

Queen Bee’s been booked (as have I) and we haven’t hung out much, N’s in California, Matthew’s in Seattle, C & C are busy building their house, L just moved, I haven’t had a date in over a year, and this guy I want to get to know just won’t call… it’s sad sometimes.

And on days like that, it’s tough to sit around at home.

***UPDATE!***

While writing this, my big sis called to chat about something that was bugging her.

Perfect timing. I feel better already.

And this is why, in the end, everything works out.

But I still wouldn’t mind if that boy called…

How many times is Obama coming to my neck of the woods?

And how in the world do I keep missing him?

You can’t see it, but I’m pouting a little bit.

Things a new car shouldn’t have…

I went car shopping last weekend, but definitely without the intent to buy a new car. I figured I’d realize that I couldn’t afford anything I liked, and then I’d walk away with renewed intentions to save up for a down payment.

It was a poor decision.

It’s like going to the pound when you KNOW you don’t want another pet. But, you find something you love, something you must-Must-MUST have, and before you know it, you’re off shopping for a litter box.

Or, in this case, new car insurance.

Now the term “new” really means “new to me”. The car in question is an ’05 Passat, so not all that new.

But it’s pretty.

It has leather seats, a sunroof, and considerably more space than the beloved Corolla. It has 59,000 miles, but it also has a brand new engine.

And did I mention that it’s pretty?

Trust me. It’s pretty.

But, less than 3 hours after I drove it off the lot, it had a few other things too…

First, an aggressive yellow ABS light, and then, shortly thereafter, a far more aggressive yellow flashing engine sign that (extremely maliciously) was accompanied by a sudden change in the motor sounds.

I know very little about cars, but I figured that this was a bad thing.

So, the same day I bought a new car, I wound up driving a different new car (’09 Outback), and left my new, pretty Passat-with-yellow-lights-and-chug-chug-chugging-engine with the dealer to…well…deal with.

Luckily all was repaired quickly, but I’ll admit, I remained a bit skeptical.

Thanks for the extended, four-year bumper-to-bumper warranty, Mom.

Somehow that makes the car even prettier.

Writers are “special”

Writing has taught me a lot of things about myself.

Unfortunately, some of them are just flat-out ridiculous.

I’m one of those closeted weekend writers (a.k.a. a person with a day job), and as such, I’ve gotten used to squeezing creative thoughts into every free moment I have.

I compose and reanalyze sentences in the shower, and fume over plot problems while brushing my teeth. I hash out dialogue while watering the plants or grilling dinner on the porch. I list out character traits while I walk from the parking lot to my office, and I work out themes and motifs while driving around town. Then when I have time to plop myself in front of my computer, I know where I’m going, because I’ve thought everything out ahead of time. It’s terribly effective.

But I’ve recently realized that there’s a downside.

Recently, while cooking dinner on the porch, my roommate and I were chatting through the screen door. My next door neighbor (also out grilling), looked up in surprise when he heard my roommate respond to a question I posed.

I cocked my head at him, confused at his reaction.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, peering at me over his grill cover. “Sorry…It’s just nice to hear you talking to another person for once.” He smiled, kindly, and turned his attention back to his hot dogs.

I was left to stew. What could he mean?

I took a few minutes to ponder, and then took a close look at myself as an outsider might see me. It was then that I realized two separate things, that, when combined, make average, little-ol’ me look like a big, giant nut-job.

1. I tend to think verbally, and,
2. I talk with my hands.

While I thought I was rewriting lines, an outside person would just see me blurting out random statements, punctuating them with wide, sweeping arm movements. While I worked on dialogue, someone else might think I was having an argument with myself–complete with wild gesticulations and inappropriate hand gestures.

I began to realize the kinds of things that my neighbors and co-workers might have witnessed. Me jabbing a hose accusingly at my herb garden, crying out “How dare you!”, as I imagined my main character confronting her foe.

I blushed as I recalled counting on my fingers as I decided that a character was “popular, cocky, and afraid of standing too close to the tuba section in band class.”

I was floored by mental images of myself muttering at half-cooked hamburgers, freshly scrubbed dishes, and my steering wheel.

So, on the positive side, I’m making lots of progress on my YA novel, and I’ve finally figured out why I get toothpaste all over my mirror.

Now I’m trying not to mind that others think I’m schizophrenic.

Who needs duct tape?

A few weeks ago, I decided that I needed some extra storage space in my bathroom.

After an hour or two at Target, I finally chose an over-the-toilet shelving system.

After another hour….or six….I had it put together.

Not bad, eh?

Not bad, eh?

I was quite proud.

Except, it didn’t quite fit over the toilet.

Actually, that’s not true. It fit over the toilet, it just didn’t fit over the toilet tank lid. Other than that it was perfect!

So, I felt that i had a few options.

1. Take it apart and return it to Target.
2. Remove the toilet lid all together, or
3. Put the toilet lid on a little crooked, so it all fit.

Guess which one I chose?

toilet less close

But then I had a new problem. With the lid on crooked, the water kept running, which is environmentally not such a terrific thing, and aesthetically, it’s also kind of annoying.

But, I McGyver-ed it, and came up with a solution.

Can you see it?

Can you see it?

No?

Well, maybe a little closer…

How about now?

How about now?

Who needs duct tape? I have a tampon, and I’m not afraid to mis-use it!

Dogs in Bars…

I promised you a few updates nearly a month ago, with a catchy little “tune in tomorrow” lead in.

I lied.

And I’m sorry. Lies make baby Jesus cry.

But, if we pretend that by “tomorrow” I meant “within a month or two” then we’re good.

In my town, people are big dog lovers, and their dogs go everywhere.

And I do mean EVERYWHERE.

Even the bars.

dog in bar

Personally, I like it.

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