I didn't have a whole lot of time yesterday to do a whole lot contemplating on the fact I was turning twenty-three. Now that I can sit and really think, there's been a lot that's happened in a year. Having a dismal Fall semester a year ago, to digging myself out of a hole in the Spring, to having rather scary reactions to anxiety and too much stress - and too much caffeine - and then a summer of work, including into the fall. In between all that was finishing not one but two novels, and taking one further into a second draft, now working on a third. And now here, with two weeks of classes left in the semester and the thought that December will bring moving out of the little apartment and back home to wait four months to walk across the stage and get my degree....
It's been a hell of a year.
Hopefully, minus the medical aspects - meaning we'll be in good health - it'll be another hell of a year.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Miss Demeanors
This week was hellaciously long, but so totally worth it. The four performances - including the open dress rehearsal - were amazing. Everything turned out so well and it was an incredibly strong show.
On the last day of tech rehearsal, the night before the open dress, I had a friend and fellow dancer use my phone to take a video of our performance. And that's what I want to share with you all.
Can you find me? Hint: I'm mostly stage right, for those of you who know what that means.
And yes, my mother and my friends were suitably impressed at how well I can shake my rear end when called upon.
Miss Demeanors: Koshare 2012
Three months worth of work. Three performances. An event for the ages.
On the last day of tech rehearsal, the night before the open dress, I had a friend and fellow dancer use my phone to take a video of our performance. And that's what I want to share with you all.
Can you find me? Hint: I'm mostly stage right, for those of you who know what that means.
And yes, my mother and my friends were suitably impressed at how well I can shake my rear end when called upon.
Miss Demeanors: Koshare 2012
Three months worth of work. Three performances. An event for the ages.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Jack of All Trades
College student. Writer. Potential professional baker. Science geek. Theater kid. Aunt. Daughter. Wandering Sagittarius. Dancer.
Dancer?
Back at the beginning of September, one of my FB statuses was that I was doing something so far out of my comfort zone it was practically on another planet, because a zip code didn't seem to cover an out step of this magnitude. My mother was appropriately skeptical when I told her, as was my sister, and I'm pretty sure some of my friends outright laughed when I said, rather brightly, I'm trying out for Koshare.
It was something I'd always wanted to since I saw my first show back in Fall 2008, but...didn't. Didn't in Fall 2009, was living in Wales in Fall 2010, and was absolutely batshit crazy a year ago in Fall 2011. Now it's Fall 2012, and guess who's name is in the program under the dance Miss Demeanors? Mine.
I've got no problems stepping out on stage and facing a packed audience and playing a different character with different words, mannerisms, and - the last time I was on stage - downright scary facial expressions. This is different. This is me, Molly Louise, only with a little bit of hip hop in my body, some heat in my cheeks, and the on-going thought process of don't let me screw this up. I got this.
I guess I hadn't really thought about the magnitude of what I was doing, and how far from the normal me it was until I read part of what my sister had put on FB when a mutual friend of ours had mentioned harassing me - in good fun, more or less - at the performance she's attending this weekend. My sister is always going to have my back, but there...I'll admit, I was rather speechless when I read this.
Just the fact that she is participating in Koshare, something so far outside her comfort zone, makes me incredibly proud of her. So, doing anything to embarrass her or take away from that accomplishment is the LAST thing I would do.
Tonight is opening night. And this sometimes conflicting Jack of All Trades plans to bring the house down. Which, to be honest, reinforces that nice little phrase I attempt to live by.
Carpe diem.
Dancer?
Back at the beginning of September, one of my FB statuses was that I was doing something so far out of my comfort zone it was practically on another planet, because a zip code didn't seem to cover an out step of this magnitude. My mother was appropriately skeptical when I told her, as was my sister, and I'm pretty sure some of my friends outright laughed when I said, rather brightly, I'm trying out for Koshare.
It was something I'd always wanted to since I saw my first show back in Fall 2008, but...didn't. Didn't in Fall 2009, was living in Wales in Fall 2010, and was absolutely batshit crazy a year ago in Fall 2011. Now it's Fall 2012, and guess who's name is in the program under the dance Miss Demeanors? Mine.
I've got no problems stepping out on stage and facing a packed audience and playing a different character with different words, mannerisms, and - the last time I was on stage - downright scary facial expressions. This is different. This is me, Molly Louise, only with a little bit of hip hop in my body, some heat in my cheeks, and the on-going thought process of don't let me screw this up. I got this.
I guess I hadn't really thought about the magnitude of what I was doing, and how far from the normal me it was until I read part of what my sister had put on FB when a mutual friend of ours had mentioned harassing me - in good fun, more or less - at the performance she's attending this weekend. My sister is always going to have my back, but there...I'll admit, I was rather speechless when I read this.
Just the fact that she is participating in Koshare, something so far outside her comfort zone, makes me incredibly proud of her. So, doing anything to embarrass her or take away from that accomplishment is the LAST thing I would do.
Tonight is opening night. And this sometimes conflicting Jack of All Trades plans to bring the house down. Which, to be honest, reinforces that nice little phrase I attempt to live by.
Carpe diem.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Sophomore Spring I
It's been a while. And yes, they're back. Once again, this is for my lovely sister, Heather, and hope that Ollie and Murph will make you smile as much in their Sophomore Spring as they did during the Fall.
An hour car ride can go a few different ways, one of them being a fantastic chance to wrap a frayed mind around an almost unrealistic last week and a half. Wrap a frayed mind around the fact that the only grandfather I'd known was gone.
Piano music floated from the speaker on the passenger side. One of my favorite songs.
I heard there was a secret chord/that David played and it pleased the Lord/but you don't really care for music, do ya
Frickin' tears. Felt like this was all I'd been doing for days, and it was partially true. It was all most of us had been doing. Hard not to. Just kept wiping them away.
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch/love is not a victory march/it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Don't keep seeing his smile. The big red van going around the corner. Him feeding the chickens. Learning to drive the riding lawn mower around the upper field. Leaving corn on the salt blocks for the deer. The smile on his face after successfully tying his ragged shoelaces and his equally ragged work boots. Don't remember he's the one who taught you..
Don't remember, and don't forget.
And the holy dark was moving to and every breath we drew was hallelujah
Damn it.
Don't see his smile coming down the hill the first time on a bicycle - no training wheels.
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
I smeared hot tears across my cheeks, not sure how the car stayed in its lane, and really not sure how the sign reading twenty-two miles to Geneva was comprehensible.
Damn it.
Hallelujah...
The room was cold. First order of business was heat, then Henry on his stand and...more or less getting all the stuff from the hallway into the corner single. Then back in the car and back home and...
Breathe. Breathe. Deep in. Deep out.
I sniffled, swallowing hard. Turned, looked, and froze, my ability to get a handle compromised by the body leaning against the door frame.
"Shit," I muttered, pushing back the too-long sleeves on my borrowed flannel shirt. Murph looked at me, hazel eyes unreadable.
"You gonna be around for a little while or is this a dump and run?" he asked.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "A - A dump and run."
"When's calling hours?" His voice was soft. Like he knew it wouldn't take much to break the cracks already there.
"Six to eight. Funeral's at eight." Son of a bitch. Don't poke me too hard, Murph. Not entirely sure I can handle it.
"Let me help you." He pushed off the door frame to stand in my personal space, one of his boots in either side of mine. "We'll make your bed before you go, yeah?"
"I'm not sleeping in it until tomorrow night," I snorted, hands out of my pockets to do that damn self-hug around my middle. Touching Murph right now meant losing it epically. "I'm staying at the house tonight and driving up tomorrow morning."
He nodded. "Okay."
"I hate this," I whispered.
Murph moved first, pulling me to him to engulf me, holding me tight because he knew - he had to - that he was the only thing keeping me together right then. I wrapped my arms around his middle, fisting his t-shirt at the small of his back to ground myself.
If there was a way for me to crawl up into him and the love and safety and Murphy-ness of him, I would have done it. But this? Me grinding my forehead into his sternum in an effort not to soak his shirt with tears was working, too.
I don't know how long we stayed like that, but we had to separate because I had to get going. Murph helped me make my bed, and when we had that done we sat on it and just looked at the stuff I was going to - eventually - have to unpack. But it didn't matter. What did matter was his large hand, warm and safe, around my own cold one.
It was the way he'd said I love you loud and clear. And exactly what I needed.
"You look so pretty, Ollie," Grandma Boyd said, her old wrinkled fingers touching my cheek.
"Thanks, Gramma." My face had to be red and splotchy, considering I burst into tears even looking in the direction of the casket. So it was safer in the secluded area by the doorway to color with El. She was a little subdued, of course, who was happy in a freakin' funeral home?
Gramma Boyd tottered over to my cousins - Kip and Joe - who sat watching the memory slide show.
"Aunt Ollie?"
I opened the clear plastic bag with the crayons, thinking she was going to ask for another color. "Yeah, little one?"
"Why are there two Morephy's?"
O-kay. This was unexpected. And kind of like a punch to the gut. Murphy the cat was at El's house, and Murphy the boyfriend was in Geneva.
"There - Murph's at college, hunny." I looked at her serious blue eyes and turned to follow when she pointed. The two fairly large men in the doorway - in dark suits, too - looked an awful lot like Murph and Liam.
Holy shit. That was actually my boyfriend and his twin. In the doorway.
"Morephy?" El asked, looking between me and the boys.
"Yeah. Murphy." Great time for more waterworks as Murph came over, knelt to be level with El, and set about explaining that Liam was his brother. Liam sat next to me, watching his twin, and it was best for me to just process at my own pace the fact that they were even here.
"So, he's your brother?" El asked, looking between Liam and Murph.
"Yup. Just like your Aunt Ollie and your mom are sisters," Murph said, holding his hands out.
El nodded like a bobblehead.
"Everything okay?"
If Izzy felt unnerved about having two identical stares leveled at her, she didn't show it. She looked between the twins - much the same way El had - and settled on the warm body next to me being the right one. "Murphy?"
Liam chuckled, standing and holding his hand out. "Liam. William, actually, but Liam. Please."
Pretty sure my brain had stopped all higher functions. Quite possibly fallen into an alternate dimension. Maybe the Doctor's Tardis was parked out back.
"Well, I feel like an idiot," Izzy muttered.
"Everybody does it," Liam said with a smile. "We do it intentionally with our new teammates."
"Makes me feel a little better." Izzy sat down on the bench across the small space. "If you want to check in with mom and dad..."
Murph looked at me. "Probably should hi to your parents and thank them for the card." He smiled gently at El. "And thank you, El, for your card when I was sick."
El beamed.
He stood; I got to my feet and straightened my pant legs. It had been a while since I'd had to wear my dress pants - and heels - but it was a small inconvenience, all things considered.
Murph had found my parents, Izzy and Dean were with El and still coloring, Kip and Joe were sitting already, an empty chair between them for me, and Liam had just been waylaid by Gramma Boyd -
Shit.
I beat feet over, meeting Liam's eyes over the top of my grandmother's head.
"Olivia," Gramma Boyd said, "your boyfriend is a very handsome young man."
"Yes, yes he is." Murph was indeed adorable. "But this isn't Murphy. This is his brother, Liam."
"Oh." She seemed taken aback. "You're still a very handsome young man."
Liam went pink in the cheeks. "Thank you, ma'am."
I scrubbed my forehead. That's my grandmother. "Gramma, I think we should go sit down."
Liam looked for his brother while I led Gramma Boyd to her seat next to Aunt Janelle. The twins were somewhere in the third row, and I was between Joe and Kip with a death grip on a hand on either side of me. The open casket was in front of me, and a lifetime of memories lay behind it.
Drained. Funeral services were draining. I adjusted my gray sweater before slinging my pea coat on. Pretty sure I'd cried more in the past hour than in the past year.
Gloved fingers slipped between mine. Didn't need to look to know it was Murph.
"You okay?" Murph as asked as we stood on the sidewalk looking across the street at the park. The Christmas decorations were still up, lights reflecting off the snow.
"I"m gettin' there." It was the truth.
He squeezed my fingers.
"We're thinkin' about goin' to Dunkin. You wanna come?" Murph glanced at his brother, who nodded. "We can take you home after."
"Let me tell my parents."
In the span of roughly two minutes to find my mother, hammer out the details, and go clomping back across the tiny parking lot, Kip and Joe had not only met the MacRiley twins but arranged a happy family-esque trip to Dunkin Donuts. And also explained how I was going to get home without making Murph and Liam drive up the hill in the middle of January in he opposite direction they needed to go.
Neither Kip nor Joe said anything about me climbing into the back of the Honda with Murph. The ride to the other end of my painfully small town was in silence. Thankfully, Murph and Liam understood my need to decompress.
Pretty sure the Dunkin night crew didn't know what to do with the five of us arriving en masse. Murph's hand was a steady presence at the small of my back. A medium hot chocolate, vanilla frosted donut, and four offers of chivalry later, I was at a high table by the window with my cousins across from me and Murph next to me.
"When do classes start?" Kip asked.
"Tomorrow," Liam and I said together.
"Are you going back tonight?" Joe asked me, sipping his coffee. If possible, he drank more caffeine on a regular basis than me.
It was luck we hadn't had heart attacks.
"No, I'm driving up tomorrow morning in time for class." Which, maybe not one of my brighter ideas, was certainly the current master plan. Happy sophomore spring.
"What are you two majoring in?" Kip asked.
"History," Murph supplied, and a beat later Liam chimed in with, "Sociology."
My cousins' expressions were priceless.
"So, how..."
"Pre-season," Murph and I said together. "I whacked my head off a Ford when the football team was moving in. And Murphy and I just kept running into each other."
Murph nodded with a what-can-ya-do kind of shrug.
"And I met Ollie when Murph wound up in the ER after taking a picture frame to the back of the head at Colby's house."
"I had to call him for a ride back to campus." Which, to be honest, was probably the one night permanently burnt into my head. "But Mama and Dad don't know that," I added casually.
Kip and Joe saluted with their cups.
We passed some more time trading a few stories, simply decompressing. Until someone caught sight of the clock and we knew we had to go. It would take the twins at least forty-five minutes to get back. And God only knew what was going on up on the hill.
Filing out of DD and across the parking lot, Murph pulled me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.
"How about we go out to dinner tomorrow night? You and me?" Murph said.
"Ice cream. I don't care where we go as long as it's got ice cream." My hands fisted the back of his coat. Damn, the tail end of break had been rough. "Call me when you get back."
"Call me if you need me." He stepped back slightly, dropping a kiss to my forehead. "Love you."
"Love you, too." I had to make myself walk away and get int the back of Kip's car.
And to think, this was only the beginning of the semester.
An hour car ride can go a few different ways, one of them being a fantastic chance to wrap a frayed mind around an almost unrealistic last week and a half. Wrap a frayed mind around the fact that the only grandfather I'd known was gone.
Piano music floated from the speaker on the passenger side. One of my favorite songs.
I heard there was a secret chord/that David played and it pleased the Lord/but you don't really care for music, do ya
Frickin' tears. Felt like this was all I'd been doing for days, and it was partially true. It was all most of us had been doing. Hard not to. Just kept wiping them away.
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch/love is not a victory march/it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Don't keep seeing his smile. The big red van going around the corner. Him feeding the chickens. Learning to drive the riding lawn mower around the upper field. Leaving corn on the salt blocks for the deer. The smile on his face after successfully tying his ragged shoelaces and his equally ragged work boots. Don't remember he's the one who taught you..
Don't remember, and don't forget.
And the holy dark was moving to and every breath we drew was hallelujah
Damn it.
Don't see his smile coming down the hill the first time on a bicycle - no training wheels.
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
I smeared hot tears across my cheeks, not sure how the car stayed in its lane, and really not sure how the sign reading twenty-two miles to Geneva was comprehensible.
Damn it.
Hallelujah...
The room was cold. First order of business was heat, then Henry on his stand and...more or less getting all the stuff from the hallway into the corner single. Then back in the car and back home and...
Breathe. Breathe. Deep in. Deep out.
I sniffled, swallowing hard. Turned, looked, and froze, my ability to get a handle compromised by the body leaning against the door frame.
"Shit," I muttered, pushing back the too-long sleeves on my borrowed flannel shirt. Murph looked at me, hazel eyes unreadable.
"You gonna be around for a little while or is this a dump and run?" he asked.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "A - A dump and run."
"When's calling hours?" His voice was soft. Like he knew it wouldn't take much to break the cracks already there.
"Six to eight. Funeral's at eight." Son of a bitch. Don't poke me too hard, Murph. Not entirely sure I can handle it.
"Let me help you." He pushed off the door frame to stand in my personal space, one of his boots in either side of mine. "We'll make your bed before you go, yeah?"
"I'm not sleeping in it until tomorrow night," I snorted, hands out of my pockets to do that damn self-hug around my middle. Touching Murph right now meant losing it epically. "I'm staying at the house tonight and driving up tomorrow morning."
He nodded. "Okay."
"I hate this," I whispered.
Murph moved first, pulling me to him to engulf me, holding me tight because he knew - he had to - that he was the only thing keeping me together right then. I wrapped my arms around his middle, fisting his t-shirt at the small of his back to ground myself.
If there was a way for me to crawl up into him and the love and safety and Murphy-ness of him, I would have done it. But this? Me grinding my forehead into his sternum in an effort not to soak his shirt with tears was working, too.
I don't know how long we stayed like that, but we had to separate because I had to get going. Murph helped me make my bed, and when we had that done we sat on it and just looked at the stuff I was going to - eventually - have to unpack. But it didn't matter. What did matter was his large hand, warm and safe, around my own cold one.
It was the way he'd said I love you loud and clear. And exactly what I needed.
"You look so pretty, Ollie," Grandma Boyd said, her old wrinkled fingers touching my cheek.
"Thanks, Gramma." My face had to be red and splotchy, considering I burst into tears even looking in the direction of the casket. So it was safer in the secluded area by the doorway to color with El. She was a little subdued, of course, who was happy in a freakin' funeral home?
Gramma Boyd tottered over to my cousins - Kip and Joe - who sat watching the memory slide show.
"Aunt Ollie?"
I opened the clear plastic bag with the crayons, thinking she was going to ask for another color. "Yeah, little one?"
"Why are there two Morephy's?"
O-kay. This was unexpected. And kind of like a punch to the gut. Murphy the cat was at El's house, and Murphy the boyfriend was in Geneva.
"There - Murph's at college, hunny." I looked at her serious blue eyes and turned to follow when she pointed. The two fairly large men in the doorway - in dark suits, too - looked an awful lot like Murph and Liam.
Holy shit. That was actually my boyfriend and his twin. In the doorway.
"Morephy?" El asked, looking between me and the boys.
"Yeah. Murphy." Great time for more waterworks as Murph came over, knelt to be level with El, and set about explaining that Liam was his brother. Liam sat next to me, watching his twin, and it was best for me to just process at my own pace the fact that they were even here.
"So, he's your brother?" El asked, looking between Liam and Murph.
"Yup. Just like your Aunt Ollie and your mom are sisters," Murph said, holding his hands out.
El nodded like a bobblehead.
"Everything okay?"
If Izzy felt unnerved about having two identical stares leveled at her, she didn't show it. She looked between the twins - much the same way El had - and settled on the warm body next to me being the right one. "Murphy?"
Liam chuckled, standing and holding his hand out. "Liam. William, actually, but Liam. Please."
Pretty sure my brain had stopped all higher functions. Quite possibly fallen into an alternate dimension. Maybe the Doctor's Tardis was parked out back.
"Well, I feel like an idiot," Izzy muttered.
"Everybody does it," Liam said with a smile. "We do it intentionally with our new teammates."
"Makes me feel a little better." Izzy sat down on the bench across the small space. "If you want to check in with mom and dad..."
Murph looked at me. "Probably should hi to your parents and thank them for the card." He smiled gently at El. "And thank you, El, for your card when I was sick."
El beamed.
He stood; I got to my feet and straightened my pant legs. It had been a while since I'd had to wear my dress pants - and heels - but it was a small inconvenience, all things considered.
Murph had found my parents, Izzy and Dean were with El and still coloring, Kip and Joe were sitting already, an empty chair between them for me, and Liam had just been waylaid by Gramma Boyd -
Shit.
I beat feet over, meeting Liam's eyes over the top of my grandmother's head.
"Olivia," Gramma Boyd said, "your boyfriend is a very handsome young man."
"Yes, yes he is." Murph was indeed adorable. "But this isn't Murphy. This is his brother, Liam."
"Oh." She seemed taken aback. "You're still a very handsome young man."
Liam went pink in the cheeks. "Thank you, ma'am."
I scrubbed my forehead. That's my grandmother. "Gramma, I think we should go sit down."
Liam looked for his brother while I led Gramma Boyd to her seat next to Aunt Janelle. The twins were somewhere in the third row, and I was between Joe and Kip with a death grip on a hand on either side of me. The open casket was in front of me, and a lifetime of memories lay behind it.
Drained. Funeral services were draining. I adjusted my gray sweater before slinging my pea coat on. Pretty sure I'd cried more in the past hour than in the past year.
Gloved fingers slipped between mine. Didn't need to look to know it was Murph.
"You okay?" Murph as asked as we stood on the sidewalk looking across the street at the park. The Christmas decorations were still up, lights reflecting off the snow.
"I"m gettin' there." It was the truth.
He squeezed my fingers.
"We're thinkin' about goin' to Dunkin. You wanna come?" Murph glanced at his brother, who nodded. "We can take you home after."
"Let me tell my parents."
In the span of roughly two minutes to find my mother, hammer out the details, and go clomping back across the tiny parking lot, Kip and Joe had not only met the MacRiley twins but arranged a happy family-esque trip to Dunkin Donuts. And also explained how I was going to get home without making Murph and Liam drive up the hill in the middle of January in he opposite direction they needed to go.
Neither Kip nor Joe said anything about me climbing into the back of the Honda with Murph. The ride to the other end of my painfully small town was in silence. Thankfully, Murph and Liam understood my need to decompress.
Pretty sure the Dunkin night crew didn't know what to do with the five of us arriving en masse. Murph's hand was a steady presence at the small of my back. A medium hot chocolate, vanilla frosted donut, and four offers of chivalry later, I was at a high table by the window with my cousins across from me and Murph next to me.
"When do classes start?" Kip asked.
"Tomorrow," Liam and I said together.
"Are you going back tonight?" Joe asked me, sipping his coffee. If possible, he drank more caffeine on a regular basis than me.
It was luck we hadn't had heart attacks.
"No, I'm driving up tomorrow morning in time for class." Which, maybe not one of my brighter ideas, was certainly the current master plan. Happy sophomore spring.
"What are you two majoring in?" Kip asked.
"History," Murph supplied, and a beat later Liam chimed in with, "Sociology."
My cousins' expressions were priceless.
"So, how..."
"Pre-season," Murph and I said together. "I whacked my head off a Ford when the football team was moving in. And Murphy and I just kept running into each other."
Murph nodded with a what-can-ya-do kind of shrug.
"And I met Ollie when Murph wound up in the ER after taking a picture frame to the back of the head at Colby's house."
"I had to call him for a ride back to campus." Which, to be honest, was probably the one night permanently burnt into my head. "But Mama and Dad don't know that," I added casually.
Kip and Joe saluted with their cups.
We passed some more time trading a few stories, simply decompressing. Until someone caught sight of the clock and we knew we had to go. It would take the twins at least forty-five minutes to get back. And God only knew what was going on up on the hill.
Filing out of DD and across the parking lot, Murph pulled me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.
"How about we go out to dinner tomorrow night? You and me?" Murph said.
"Ice cream. I don't care where we go as long as it's got ice cream." My hands fisted the back of his coat. Damn, the tail end of break had been rough. "Call me when you get back."
"Call me if you need me." He stepped back slightly, dropping a kiss to my forehead. "Love you."
"Love you, too." I had to make myself walk away and get int the back of Kip's car.
And to think, this was only the beginning of the semester.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Project ADD
Today, for a little while longer, is October 31. First and foremost, Happy Halloween, and hope everybody had a lovely Wednesday. Mine was rather interesting, considering it was business like normal. But as my chemistry professor was giving out extra points for costumes, my morning consisted of wracking my brains - because, honestly, I was supposed to plan? - and figuring out that with my closet of clothes I could pass myself off as a "starving artist." From a novelist point of view, anyway. One mason jar with a few dollars in it, jeans, layers, flannel, boots, and a cardboard sign with "Will write for food" on it, I was all set to go.
They do say the accessories make the outfit. In this instance, it was more than true.
Tomorrow is the first day of November, and everyone in the writing community has been gearing up for NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month, where the goal is to crank out a novel of at least 50,000. Ironically enough, Sage started out as my NaNo project back in 2009. Clearly, I failed, as I only finished the manuscript this past June. It's the thought that counts, sometimes, I guess.
Anyway. This isn't a post to tell everybody about the exciting new NaNo idea I'm going to run with. I'm not specifically starting a new project. If I happen, by working throughout November, wind up with 50,000 words of a project, or in editing and rewriting, then fabulous. But there's too much going on - including a possible date with a boy, which as soon as I can sort through all that, I'll let you in on - for me to be able to say with any certainty that I'll sit down and pound out a brand new novel, start to finish, in 30 days.
As always, I'm plodding along with Sage, and perhaps some Murphy and Me: Sophomore Fall, too. But I'm also writing new stuff, like Terrathela, and might even wander back to working on The Icicle Man or Waitress in Love.
If I'm really good, I'll get my ass in gear and start churning out Murphy and Me: Sophomore Spring, but I think my sister's thinking pigs will fly before that point. If it makes anybody feel better, they're currently stuck at the Dunkin Donuts in my hometown, and I haven't quite figured out how to get them out of there.
So, that's kind of a quick update on the project front. I'll have news about The Boy shortly, once I kind of figure out what I'm doing. Then again, not knowing is half the fun, isn't it?
They do say the accessories make the outfit. In this instance, it was more than true.
Tomorrow is the first day of November, and everyone in the writing community has been gearing up for NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month, where the goal is to crank out a novel of at least 50,000. Ironically enough, Sage started out as my NaNo project back in 2009. Clearly, I failed, as I only finished the manuscript this past June. It's the thought that counts, sometimes, I guess.
Anyway. This isn't a post to tell everybody about the exciting new NaNo idea I'm going to run with. I'm not specifically starting a new project. If I happen, by working throughout November, wind up with 50,000 words of a project, or in editing and rewriting, then fabulous. But there's too much going on - including a possible date with a boy, which as soon as I can sort through all that, I'll let you in on - for me to be able to say with any certainty that I'll sit down and pound out a brand new novel, start to finish, in 30 days.
As always, I'm plodding along with Sage, and perhaps some Murphy and Me: Sophomore Fall, too. But I'm also writing new stuff, like Terrathela, and might even wander back to working on The Icicle Man or Waitress in Love.
If I'm really good, I'll get my ass in gear and start churning out Murphy and Me: Sophomore Spring, but I think my sister's thinking pigs will fly before that point. If it makes anybody feel better, they're currently stuck at the Dunkin Donuts in my hometown, and I haven't quite figured out how to get them out of there.
So, that's kind of a quick update on the project front. I'll have news about The Boy shortly, once I kind of figure out what I'm doing. Then again, not knowing is half the fun, isn't it?
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Water-Tight....Not So Much
There was a post I meant to put up about a week ago - last Thursday, actually - more or less outlining my plan to drive to Vermont to see my friend who's at UVM Med School. I don't think I'd had a decent way of closing it, so I more or less saved it, and forgot to post it. Which, sadly, happens with me more than I'd like to admit.
Anyway.
Last weekend I spent 6 hours in my lovely little Buick driving no less than 70 on the highways on my way to Burlington, Vermont, to spend the weekend with two friends I haven't seen since graduation back in May. We had a blast. I arrived in the evening on Friday - I had classes earlier that day - and after pizza, beer, and the decision to make pancakes the next morning, figured out there was this really cool thing called the Giant Pumpkin Regatta happening on Sunday.
Take a giant pumpkin (900 pounds and up), hollow it out, put it in Lake Champlain, and stick somebody (or two people), give 'em a paddle, and let 'em race. It was so fun. It's a waterfront festival as well, so there were vendors, food trucks, a Ben and Jerry's tent (we are in Vermont, after all), and it was a great day to spend down by the lake looking out across at New York with the Adirondacks rising in the background.
We had eaten our way through Vermont the day before, starting with Ben and Jerry's, Cabot Cheese, Lake Champlain Chocolates, and Cold Hollow Cider Mill for cider donuts. Then up through the Green Mountains - Mount Mansfield specifically, through Smuggler's Notch - and then back toward Burlington for dinner at our friend's parents' house.
All in all it was a great weekend. If you check my Twitter, there are lots of Instagram links to photos I took while I was getting there, there in Burlington, and then getting home. And, because I love my camera slightly more than I love my iPhone, I took regular pictures, too.
I need a little more time to process my past week before I figure out a way to blog about it. It's midterms. That should be a big hint.
Anyway.
Last weekend I spent 6 hours in my lovely little Buick driving no less than 70 on the highways on my way to Burlington, Vermont, to spend the weekend with two friends I haven't seen since graduation back in May. We had a blast. I arrived in the evening on Friday - I had classes earlier that day - and after pizza, beer, and the decision to make pancakes the next morning, figured out there was this really cool thing called the Giant Pumpkin Regatta happening on Sunday.
Take a giant pumpkin (900 pounds and up), hollow it out, put it in Lake Champlain, and stick somebody (or two people), give 'em a paddle, and let 'em race. It was so fun. It's a waterfront festival as well, so there were vendors, food trucks, a Ben and Jerry's tent (we are in Vermont, after all), and it was a great day to spend down by the lake looking out across at New York with the Adirondacks rising in the background.
We had eaten our way through Vermont the day before, starting with Ben and Jerry's, Cabot Cheese, Lake Champlain Chocolates, and Cold Hollow Cider Mill for cider donuts. Then up through the Green Mountains - Mount Mansfield specifically, through Smuggler's Notch - and then back toward Burlington for dinner at our friend's parents' house.
All in all it was a great weekend. If you check my Twitter, there are lots of Instagram links to photos I took while I was getting there, there in Burlington, and then getting home. And, because I love my camera slightly more than I love my iPhone, I took regular pictures, too.
I need a little more time to process my past week before I figure out a way to blog about it. It's midterms. That should be a big hint.
 |
| Burlington, Vermont Waterfront Park (looking toward New York) |
 |
| 900+ Pound Floating Pumpkins |
 |
| People from local businesses man their pumpkins. |
 |
| They really don't float too well. |
 |
| HWS Classes of 2012 and 2013. |
 |
| Apparently, when I see a body of water and walk a beach, I must put my feet in it. Lake Champlain in October. |
 |
| Downtown Burlington. |
 |
| On the Charlotte-Essex Ferry coming back to New York. |
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Things to Know V: The First Week Back Edition
As we near the end of the first week back to class, I thought it appropriate to do a Things to Know. Because this week has been chock full of them. Some of them are funny and some are...they just are.
- From the outside of my apartment, the windows are street level. From the inside, they start six feet off the ground and require a chair for Louise to even reach the sill.
- The bedroom window doesn't open fully.
- That might be a good thing, in the long run.
- My kitchen table is dominated by a puzzle.
- The puzzle is not complete yet.
- I get roughly five to ten minutes of pretty church bell songs every three hours.
- Mostly because the Methodist church is right across the street.
- I required a slight tutorial on how to use my shower.
- It was frighteningly simple once I was shown how.
- Some things are easier the second time around.
- Always look before you put something in the toaster and push it down.
- Case and point: Having a new toaster. Cardboard left in it. Flaming cardboard and a screeching fire alarm at 8:15 in the morning on a Thursday.
- The apartment still kind of smells like smoke.
- Be wary of standing in chairs to flip the fan from intake to exhaust.
- Fall off the chair and nearly gouging your chest on the screws sticking out of the awful paneling in the living room is a great way to start the morning.
- While the fire alarm continues to blare and there are smoking cardboard remains in the kitchen sink.
- I met the Boy Next Door because I stress baked my little heart out on Tuesday and produced cupcakes.
- BND is rather attractive.
- Have I mentioned the apartment still kind of smells like smoke?
- Tonight feels like a macaroni and cheese and chicken nugget kind of night, but I really don't want to cook after the whole Flaming Toaster Incident.
- Capital letters are totally appropriate.
- I got all my work done for this week done by this afternoon. I feel rather accomplished.
- My writing workshop was not what I thought it would be. Rather than drive myself nutzo for the next however many months, I've dropped it.
- I do feel very, very relieved.
- NYS local Riesling is quite tasty.
- I kind of don't want to work tomorrow night.
- Mostly because I'd rather try and hope for dinner with the BND.
- I think the previous is and probably always will be just a pipe dream.
- Hope your week was as exciting as mine (but with no Flaming Toaster Incident).
- From the outside of my apartment, the windows are street level. From the inside, they start six feet off the ground and require a chair for Louise to even reach the sill.
- The bedroom window doesn't open fully.
- That might be a good thing, in the long run.
- My kitchen table is dominated by a puzzle.
- The puzzle is not complete yet.
- I get roughly five to ten minutes of pretty church bell songs every three hours.
- Mostly because the Methodist church is right across the street.
- I required a slight tutorial on how to use my shower.
- It was frighteningly simple once I was shown how.
- Some things are easier the second time around.
- Always look before you put something in the toaster and push it down.
- Case and point: Having a new toaster. Cardboard left in it. Flaming cardboard and a screeching fire alarm at 8:15 in the morning on a Thursday.
- The apartment still kind of smells like smoke.
- Be wary of standing in chairs to flip the fan from intake to exhaust.
- Fall off the chair and nearly gouging your chest on the screws sticking out of the awful paneling in the living room is a great way to start the morning.
- While the fire alarm continues to blare and there are smoking cardboard remains in the kitchen sink.
- I met the Boy Next Door because I stress baked my little heart out on Tuesday and produced cupcakes.
- BND is rather attractive.
- Have I mentioned the apartment still kind of smells like smoke?
- Tonight feels like a macaroni and cheese and chicken nugget kind of night, but I really don't want to cook after the whole Flaming Toaster Incident.
- Capital letters are totally appropriate.
- I got all my work done for this week done by this afternoon. I feel rather accomplished.
- My writing workshop was not what I thought it would be. Rather than drive myself nutzo for the next however many months, I've dropped it.
- I do feel very, very relieved.
- NYS local Riesling is quite tasty.
- I kind of don't want to work tomorrow night.
- Mostly because I'd rather try and hope for dinner with the BND.
- I think the previous is and probably always will be just a pipe dream.
- Hope your week was as exciting as mine (but with no Flaming Toaster Incident).
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