A Separate Peace

I've been reading John Knowles a Separate Peace lately and I've found out several lessons.

1. Don't let your reader distract you, come back to the main point.
2. It's ok to summarize. That is helpful to your reader who isn't paying attention anyway and is probably drooling over the book anyway.
3. Don't be congineal and friendly, you get pushed out of trees.

That last one take with a grain of salt, I just noticed what the book was really about. And we want people reading it! Sometimes.

Well, I didn't finish NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month for skipping a couple days this past week, but I've been keeping it going with NaNoWriMo. It's getting difficult to not just finish it, in the beginning of the novel. I feel I have less and less to write about, but my characters keep living and functioning and most of all doing things. So I keep writing.

So amazingly bad.

It's odd how I read a bad book and I can put it down right away. But a bad story I'm writing...because it's nano I have to keep writing. I can't just put it away and say to everyone "let's never speak of this again." Although that might happen once this is over, but it's like a baby, I take it out once a day and coo over it and feed it, and it grows, regardless of how actually ugly this baby is. And it's ugly, no transitions from scene to scene, random conversations that don't really contribute to the plot...you name it, I've got it. Want to read it yet?

The no plot, no problem is actually kind of an issue

So I'm writing and I have no clue what comes next. It's like I am writing on the edge of the abyss, not knowing which words come next...and no, not the abyss in the Bible from whence come the dragon. More like the edge upon the abyss of reality. Which is scary place to be for me. But it that's how I write: so be it.

Sort of licensing writing above any other project I have going on is probably not the best idea. So I need to set down some ground rules for NaNoWriMo.

Writing does not come before sleeping, eating, or any member of the family, including the cat. In fact, those are my ground rules.

Oh yeah, if I turn insane over this horrible piece of writing, everyone must say that I "went insane for my work." Thank you. That is all.

Also, I find this highly amusing. Notice the white kid on the right. I know one kid who's parents will be voting for McCain.

Today was rough

I spent all my time up til midnight fidgeting away on the internet, all unknowing of the task I would have to undertake. I think many writers must write naked for that is what we must do of soul, strip ourselves down to the bare bones and build ourselves up again. It wouldn't do any good to try to write dramas with our clothes, on, they wouldn't be true to life, to our birth. Where we came from the womb immediately put in a fuzzy blanket to comfort us. While when someone reads they want to take off that blanket and face the world as it really is, passionately fancy-free.

The failing at life

I didn't take my physics test today. That's how I like to describe it.

1. We have a new professor and the tests are not the tests given to us in the science study lounge.

2 I brought two mechanical pencils and both stopped working.

3. I forgot to bring a scantron.

4. I didn't get half the problems on the test anyway.

Basically, I fail at life. I didn't go to the review. Even if I make a hundred on the next test, that only averages out to a 50.

I just think there's something seriously wrong with me that I fail at life. Maybe I should go to community college next year. Maybe the material there would make more sense to me.

How we get picked up.

Looking for writing jobs all day is draining, with expectant mothers to be of articles, newspapers and magazines yowling at us, conveying their every whim. I think they should institute a new way of working on projects. Like Mexican workers, we should stand on street corners and when a prospective employee drives by we should jump in the back of their truck, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I'm BAD.

I think we don't realize how much this word affects us as little kids. That we were a bad person merits change or at least remorse. But what if you're just bad at something: Something you've poured your energy and thought you were good at. Well, hell, what if you were just "bad at life." Which is how I feel about my recent job experience.

I didn't feel I was bad at it, my employer did. So do I take her perspective and hang my head in shame, or do I take the perspective of a gangsta. and say "Yeah, I'm Baaaaad!"

Password: Denied

I seem to have difficulty punching my password in just right the first time. I wonder if any other people have problems like this. Akin to test anxiety or perhaps a type of uber-anticipation, my finger or brain seem to be uncoordinated with each other. Either I don't remember the password, or there's a mini finger mumble-jumble. I hope that soon I can recover from my affliction. It is frustrating and annoying at the worst, but imagine what one could do with the saved time. Godspeed and coordination fingers and brains.

Hi everyone.

I've been doing a "word of the day" thing which I get from my google gadget. I love learning new words and using them in sentences.

Right now I'm unsure as to the direction of the blog. It's my personal blog which I want to reflect my personal life and what goes on. However, seeing as I'm not always at my most interesting, I'm not sure everyone wants to hear about my day.

I have several ideas: I could make this an idea blog, like Idea province. I have so many great ideas that never see the light of day.

Another idea is to make it a word-of-the-day blog. Which I'm not sure would appeal to anyone...

I talk to myself about getting readership and RSS blogs, but really, I'm a bit flummoxed about getting people reading my blogs.

There's the option of collecting all my contacts from facebook.com and promoting my blog that way. However, do I really want to annoy all those people.

First, I must choose a direction.

You can vote on a direction by sending me an e-mail. I've e-mailed my family to see what they think because I value their opinion. Send me your ideas. I thought of blogging for my classes, posting notes and stuff, and that's another idea. The thing is, most blogs need a gimmick, something that unifies them all and I haven't discovered mine yet.

Volte-face

An about face. I'm not sure as to the origin of this word. It seems rather strange that a volt, which is used for electric potential should be used. But I can imagine a soldier screaming, "Volte-face!" and the troops obeying his command, with a swift turn in the same direction.

Word of the Day: Littoral

Used in a sentence: The lighthouse was littoral.

This reminds me of going to the beach when I was little. I remember the sand and the back of the car open, with our camping equipment and a cooler. The funny thing is I remember a lighthouse, which makes me think it was a dream. Just goes to show our memory is not always accurate.

Donnybrook

I had a donnybrook today with myself. Whether I would be sad or not and I think I won. Because I'm awesome. And I have good self-esteem. Donnybrook means a brawl or dispute. I'm not sure you could use this one in a conversation, but if you want to make someone go "huh?" Definitely try it.

Slugabed

The reasoning for this word is rather simple. Slugs which are slow, a for the a, and bed for the lying in bed. I used to be a slugabed, and love staying in bed till a late hour. I started this practice when I was young, so if you don't want your children to be slugabeds teach them to get up early even on the weekends. These good habits will follow them throughout their life.

Fettle

State or conditon of mind. We have to few words to describe ourselves and how we work, as if the knowing can make us love ourselves less. I often hear the word, mettle, or worth of a person. But to understand fettle, the condition of the mind, we must first be willing to give up a practice which has grown old.

Why do you write?

Writing seems to the most complicated means of communication and, yes, technology. It's a time machine to transfer ideas from generation to generation, transferring itself through time and space and creating ideas where there were none before.

I am sad today.

And I wish I had the tao. The spiritual force of the universe which understands and completes everyone and everything.

My essay lies undone. I don't even want to finish it, the difficulty level is too high. I don't even want to go finish it, because I'll put all these laws and expectations on it, that it should be the best essay ever, and I can't. I'm completely unable to type that next word, and analyze that bit of poetry. Maybe it had to do with that spurt of inspiration I had to write the outline the other day. Now that it's gone, nothing else can compare.

I believe that one has to be inspired to write. Must be an adventure.

An English major on Laundry

I was washing my clothes, when suddenly, out of the blue, I think... flannel is probably not considered REAL clothes, when I realized that I was an English major. Only an English major would do such an in-depth analysis of clothes. I even sort them out, putting the whites and delicates aside. Careful analysis of clothes that is only matched by the perfectionist English major doing ho-hum chores.

The Butterflies

Why did God make monarch butterflies so lovely to look at? Most people aren't sure. Some people just enjoy the beauty of them. I, for one, think there must be a purpose. Like machines, they are made of pieces and parts stuck together and animated. Spindly spider-web thin legs, and paper-machete dusty wings, painted a vivid orange color. As if he wanted to get our attention. Then he put them there for a reason-like a thousand tiny flags waving, saying "Here I am, here I am."

This is lovely to behold, when the monarchs migrate. But maybe it's just nature's way of fooling us. As if to say, "the best things in life aren't yours to keep." Ephemeral. It's a word. Use it. That's the moral of the story.

At the Office

So I'm here in the Shorthorn office. It's nothing like Office Space, or the Office. For one thing, the majority of us are girls, and girls don't take the front in those comedies.

I'm Pam. Everyone's Pam. She's quiet and sweet and intelligent and average. And she sometimes wears coke bottle glasses. Don't get me started on glasses. They are eye blinders, where you can only look straight ahead, they mess up your close-up vision. Nope, can't focus on those sheets that have an ugly pink flower pattern anymore. When do you need this vision? Not ever really, but I feel it's on principle that I should be able to see that up-close. But no, I'm blinded to not only a few feet in front of my face, but also a inch directly in front of my face. So don't get me started on the evils of glasses. The evils of contacts are stretchy eyelids, but that's another story.

So here in the office where people are supposed to work. And we do. And the laugh factor is high here. On my laugh-o-meter. I have one.

John Read this!

Today I did a more realistic assessment of my finances for the Fall 2008 school year. Turns out I'll need more money than I'd expected, because of medical bills, and the fact that I'm finally attempting to sort out my face, acne-wise.

You think years of being grossed out by pimples should have turned me sooner, but I feel like my acne is my shield against the world. I pop them when I am anxious and the satisfaction of a good squeeze sometimes helps me get through the day. I don't know what I'll do without them. Like that Family Guy episode where the pimple took over in Chris' life, my acne has defined who I am.

Maybe the regime they will put me through will take it's place. Wash every evening with Purpose soap, put on a scar fading cream, then in the morning take a huge pink pill, wash it down with the others. In the morning rinse the face and put a pimple vanishing cream dotted on each pimple.

While a regimen may not or may take it's place, I hope I learn to live without the pain of having pimples.

There is water on Mars

It is proven by NASA's Phoenix Lander. So what does this mean... ice on a place like Mars. Could we live there? Is it a possibility? So with water on Mars it's only steps away from having someone there to drink it. Though terraforming planets, or making planets livable on a mass scale by humans is not really a possibility considering the great cost of the operation, it is still a theory in many science fiction films and books.

And I've always wanted to live in a dome, haven't you?

Actually I feel like I'm in a bubble, sometimes, living capsulated in my room with none but my computer to befriend me. From here to the kitchen and back the only trek I'm taking. But today, I got out of the house and took a walk to the local grocery store, about two blocks. I felt fat. I'm sort of a chubby person and have to deal with that. But I also sweated the same sort of water that was found on Mars, and it felt good.

So either, going to Mars to find water, or getting out of the house to not drown in the doldrums of life, both trips are essential to mankind.

Sayonara

And Their Bombs, and Their Guns

Today's title is thanks to Bjork. I hate her music.

So there is still such a thing as a suicide bombers. Americans think that if they can make fun of something it's not real, not as tangible as death is.

But over in Iraq, Bagdad and Kirkuk, to be exact, there were 4 female suicide bombers who attacked Kurdish protesters. We take for granted our right to free speech, by forgoing the need to speak freely, but over in other countries, there are women who take the right to live for granted.

That's right, 61 people dead. That means people who loved life, who were willing to fight for their liberty...cut off.

That is why we should value our freedoms to have a peaceful assembly, and to have the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness. We Americans think we have it good and we do...with the ability to breath another day and to believe that life is for worth fighting.

It makes my small petty problems seem so little...that I want to give out knitting lessons, and while Mrs. Bezzina would like them at 7, my mom says she'll drive me as early as nine. In a way, I'm proud of my mom for sticking up for herself...in other news, it's a problem for me to explain why I can't do the lessons at the time I said was fine.

Either way we are in a governmental (or familial) relationship which is turmoil. While I'm struggling to become an independent person, Iraq is struggling with the birthing pains of a new government. May we both succeed.

Megan Out

So I'm into writing screenplays

The next new thing in my life. I know, I know, I'm better than everyone else because I can imagine writing screenplays. I swear, I'm just like the rest of you with fears and everything. I just know that have so much love from my awesome family that I can do this.

When freelance writing, you really don't know where your next gig is coming from. Freelance writing is really an art, and you must be at your most artful when writing that cover letter. But eventually, you get pared down to a certain genre: copywriting, blogging, editing...the possibilities are nearly endless. And I would like to write screenplays. So that's the next big thing going on with me.

I know, I'm fascinating, but enough talk about me, what's going on in the world?

An Arizona campus got struck with a shooter, which hit three students. He wasn't one of those manics who try to shoot as many people as they can, but started with an argument which spiraled out of control. Just goes to say, they say, guns don't kill people, people kill people. In the words of Eddie Izzard, "I think the guns help."

More later
From alleged
Grammar Queen
Fiesty Screenwriter

Fat and Nobody Cares

I'm overweight and no one cares. I keep trying to tell my mom and she keeps on ignoring me. Scoring a 26 where 25 and up is overweight, I find my self wondering if it's the medication I'm taking that I know causes weight gain or my lack of exercise. In 2003 and 2004, it (it being a graph or a map or something) showed that 66% of the US population is overweight. I'm just joining the crowd. Does any one have any suggestions of fun things I could do to lose weight?

I want to run, but my lung capacity is so small. I fall into a walk so soon after beginning a run. I'd like to join some sort of club. Well, I'll get to exercise more in the fall, having access to the Maverick Gym.

Good news, I'm taking two classes instead of one: Physics and a Literary Criticism course. The two classes will allow me to get more financial aid and get the loan which is supposed to save my life.

Yeauck, My Life.

So sick and tired. Sick and tired of being on the computer, not interacting with people, just so alone.

Then I think, well, I could get a boyfriend. The best Craigslist has to offer. But I'd be disappointing people right and left. And it's painful to get in a relationship. The less I'm around people the more idealistic about it I become. And I forget the pain. I forget the agony of defeat. That a woman is less beautiful close up. That once you know one woman you know them all.
That sort of thinking.

I'm quiet and I don't understand the social niceties required in social arenas. I spend my days, as today on the computer.

I best be getting a job first. Except for this semester when I do what I shouldn't do and spend my loan money on a scooter and maybe a new floor. If I even have loan money at all. They might not have loan money for people only taking one class. We'll see tomorrow.

The Hair

So I cut my hair and my brother doesn't give a damn. Well that's kind of like him. John doesn't give a damn. Which is cool. I guess I'm trying to be the interesting and nice big sister again. Like I have a choice. He pretty much asserts his lone ranger status. There is no stupid sidekick, because I refuse to be stupid.

But back to the hair. It has the potentiality to look like Maureen on the Brady bunch, and for those out of the loop, that's the maid. But that is just the potentiality. My hair also has the potentiality to look cute. So it looks cute when I put stuff in it and kind of fluff in in different directions and let it curl, and put a part in half way. Lovely. But I really wanted my hair cut short from my first year in college. I kept talking about how I wanted to shave it all off, and how hot it was. Then I saw Briteny Spears and I realized that wasn't so good. But I still wanted it short.

I walked in and the only available hairdresser was a black lady. Can she do my hair? What will it turn out like... all these questions were running through my head. She introduced herself as Tona and we spent hours in that chair. At least three hours. First she chopped off a little, and then she chopped off a little more. She used the razor, as I suggested, just as a method of thinning. Seriously, I thought, this lady doesn't have a clue. She finished one cut and when I asked her about the razor just as a thinning mechanism she started randomly chopping my hair with the scissors!!!! I was pretty freaked out by that point. I am going to have a good haircut or else. So eventually she brought out the electric clippers and cut the hair in the back of my head short and around my ears. Britney Spears, I'm going to look like Britney Spears, I kept thinking.

So somehow we came to a haircut I sort of like. Except when my family is looking at it. For some reason, I put them in a different category of people that they are supposed to automatically like my hair. I expect that they say they like it because they love me. Pictures are coming forthwith.

Goal of the day: Stop picking at my face. (Better than the nose!)

Go with grace
Peace to all
Hair victim

Scooter Mania!

So. I finally talked to mom about what I'm going to do next semester. It seems that TCC is out of the question because it's too far to drive. I've already accepted the 5,500 loan for UTA, subsidized. I will get a scooter. And take a class next semester. Woot woot.

Just the future, where I have to pay student loans every month for two and a half years at 200 a month or for four years and seven months at 100 dollars a month does not appeal to me. However, a new Vespa for which I can ride around and therefore get a better job does. Insurance, gas, tune-ups, and scooter classes. I'm afraid I'm just fixed on the idea of independence, without considering the cost.

So Meara, you were right. I am going to be one of those goofy people who ride a little scooter. I should go live in London or something.

How long will I still desire you?

Sometimes life is frustrating to the nines. Like if you miss just one person because you went through what you felt was emotional boot camp with them. Yeah, that's right, Bryan. Feeling like no-one understands you so perfectly as them.

Well, they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. What about moving on?

What about not having a close relationship with your family? I don't call passing someone in the hallway and saying "yeah, you have to take me somewhere today," a close relationship. Not to burst anyone's bubble.

But a close relationship which is free of the intent or possibility of harm and can share hopes and dreams in. Sorry for ending with a preposition. But the idea of a potential real relationship is still there.

On the upside (maybe) I'm cutting my hair... really short. I'm scared. But as I hate my hair as it is, any change is good.

Weird thing: Maybe other people do this, but while I'm walking to and from the kitchen, I bump myself against the walls. Sub-conscious self-harm technique? You decide.

More on how weird I am,
Next session of...

Nominal Psychosis
With Megan

Today I finished a scholarship essay. I don't know if it will win, but just "putting it in the mail" gives me a thrill.

Haven't figured out how to get titles for my blogs on "Day by Day," but who needs titles anyway. We have to label everything, like canned goods, for goodness sakes just take the day as it is.

Applied to several jobs and still no reply yet. I'm considering follow-up emails to keep things interesting and to connect with those yet to be bosses. It's like a bad detective movie, when you look for jobs. Following up all these dead-end leads. But I'm sure something will turn up on my job search. Somewhere local and conveniently located. There has to be the "perfect job."

Hee hee. Chuck E. Cheese is hiring entry level managers. I'm thinking of applying. Super nervous about that though.

President Bush lifted a ban on offshore oil drilling today. There won't be any action on it though,because Congress has a ban on the practice, which would have to be lifted first. Not to mention the instant ramifications on the environment which would have to be considered before drilling.

Just goes to show that we'll have to find another source of energy soon, oil not being an renewable resource. We can't create oil in a lab, it being impossible to create the conditions used to create oil. The most feasible option is ethanol, made out of corn.

Besides that I'm alright. I feel like I haven't found my "platform" today. My stable ground from which I do things.

I want to get my hair cut. Short. I've wanted this since my sister got her hair cut short in the third grade. I'm really nervous. Maybe I should wait to make an appointment until another day.

Watched Catacombs tonight. I was scared and it was nice to enjoy getting caught up in a movie. Makes me wonder about all the numb people who are so numb to everything else that they have to go see gore to get an emotion. Hah, I'm not like that. I just clicked on it randomly and got a little jack to my heart beat. The twist at the end wasn't bad either.

Anyway, I'm thinking of starting a Saturday cookie baking streak. Cookies are a great way to show you care, and there always seems to be a dearth of them. Though right now we have those fake fig newtons. So yeah, wish me luck.

I keep skirting around the emails that were sent to me by three people answering my ad from Craigslist.com. Here's my doubts: can I knit really? I mean every project I take out five or six times before continuing to the end. I have trouble reading patterns. And I use Emily...to knit.

What the hell does that last sentence mean? I'll explain later.

The process group is finished. That would have to do with my last stay at a hospital. 5 times to the hospital, 6 suicide attempts, I am much changed from my 2003 self. A boyfriend and a half later. I'm back at the mom's house struggling financially and mentally.

Money is still tight and I quit my job at Kroger: it was a crappy minimum wage job, anyhow. And Mr. Ruckle, the manager barked orders at me like we were in the military. Disturbing.

I sort of failed the Walmart's Are-you-sane-enough-to-work-for-us-quiz. So my only hope is Subway, or the YMCA. I have to work at a place which is close enough to home.

Other than that things are looking up. I have two queries from people who would like lessons in knitting.

I have no relationships with people for some reason. My family I barely have a relationship with. Don't go to church anymore, don't really believe in God, except for sometimes in which I do. Don't ask me to explain that.

What to expect from this blog---well, it'll mostly be what I wish I could discuss with my family or friends, but can't.

Other than that, I've been watching a lot of cartoon network: Chowder. I want his hat.