Wednesday, December 29, 2010

#29--Quick Bits

I was going to write.

In fact, I should be writing.

Instead I roamed my blog feed and watched a documentary on dogs and eugenics.

Came up with a good story idea, or at least one that might have been done already.

Had a couple dreams this week worth expanding upon.

Continuing to write "Morph" in a notebook. In longhand.

GASP! People still do that?!

Yes.

I am crazy.

In case you were wondering.

Now that the documentary is finished and my blog readings are caught up, I have tired myself.

Which is what I intended to do, since I wasn't tired at 10:30, when my husband went to bed.

Tomorrow morning I have an interview.

I'm excited.

Ciao for now.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

#28--Looking Ahead

This week is crazy!

*sigh*

I suppose that's alright, that life is crazy sometimes. I just hope that things turn around in all the good ways before Friday... I hate being dreary feeling around the holidays.

Otherwise, I've got some exciting things going on next week (interview wise!) and I'm totally looking forward to New Year's at my mom-in-law's house. It always promises to be a good time. However, my cousin Steven invited us to his house as well, and that may very well be equally as fun, except I think I prefer less drama and more game playing, and so may stick with my original plan. Tee hee.

I'm looking forward to the new year, hoping that it helps us all move forward in all the right ways. Paying off loans, working towards starting a new business, saving dough for a honeymoon or other small camping/hiking trip, potentially buying a house, etc. All of those things add up faster than I thought possible, and those are not including the little things, the everyday nuances that occur and are unavoidable/completely unexpected. Yet I suppose that is what life is, as I've said before.

I really feel like we can get through it all just fine, so I'm choosing not to worry about it.

Outside of that, I was thinking about some stories I've been working on, like the "Morph" story based loosely on the tale about Rumplestiltskin, and the newest addition to the story group here on the blog being "Untitled A." I've thought a good while about combining the stories into one, and was nearly convinced that I should put Eva and Charlotte together into a stronger, more complex Eva. The more I think about it the more uncertain I am about whether or not they should remain separate or become one (as it were). I feel that Eva could benefit from some of Charlotte's traits, but that she would also benefit from having a friend outside of her husband Marcus. And then there is the dilemma of whether or not Michael should be done away with, or if his bum leg can be morphed into Marcus, or if that physical aspect should not be fiddled with in Marcus's case.

On a different note, I'm nearly dying to work on a science fiction story, only I'm not sure what. I was recalling my idea of the tattoo society (Alex & Grace you know what I'm talking about). But I feel that I would need to do research for that one, examining society's reaction and treatment for minorities and majorities, etc. Of course, I would probably have to restrict these examinations and base them on one society over an elaborate course of time. Unless it would benefit from studying a "main" society and culture during its thousands of years of evolution and such. Hm. I am also not sure that I am making any logical or grammatical sense at this point because I am also watching Family Guy at the moment.

**

Tomorrow seems to be a big day... I have to make several phone calls, go by the bank, the post office (and I should probably go by the DMV while I'm at it--hooray name change!) and hope and pray that the phone calls don't result in an incredible amount of expenses or stress. Given that the expected expenses aren't too unexpected, then I expect I will be able to finish my Christmas shopping (or several people won't be receiving gifts from me, which would make me rather sad considering that this includes someone that I am very close too and an overly sensitive little sister).

Whew. Nothing beats the holidays!

Monday, December 20, 2010

#27--The Decemberists

Guess what is happening on February 7th at the Uptown?

The Decemberists are having a concert!!!!

Now guess who wants to go!!

ME!

I'm excited. Oh yes. It will be fabulous. *heavy panting*

Now, to save money for tickets... yesssssss

Sunday, December 19, 2010

#26--The Anguish Tree and Failed Fudge

It's been eventful lately.

Last week I helped Grace set up "The Village" at her mom's house, that is a yearly tradition for them. The story goes something like, "A prosperous medieval town that lies between two mountain ranges has a grim secret: The Tree of Anguish. The people in The Village have to trek halfway up the tallest mountain to pay visits to the Tree of Anguish, or their souls will suffer and as a result, the town will die. So up the mountain they go, to confess their sins on scrolls which are then "sacrificed" to the tree. The tree takes on all the ugliness of the villagers in order to spare them (which is totally in the spirit of the season, since Jesus died for our sins. The fact that the plant we've used to represent the tree is a Crown of Thorns is mere happy coincidence). Higher up on the mountain lives a beast which kills villagers who wander too far into his realm. The beast is called "dragon" but appears differently to those who witness it. This dragon belongs to Santa, because wimpy little reindeer can't actually fly or eat enough "magic carrots" to stay afloat long enough. Let's just admit now that the carrots are actually shrooms and get it over with. (lol). So the dragon who lives on the highest peak is in charge of pulling Santa's sleigh, which is why there is always so much ruckus when Santa lands on the roof and why millions of people across the world are forced to re-shingle, re-thatch, or completely rebuild their homes each year in December. The dragon does benefit Santa and the chimney bit though; the dragon is like a put-outer from HP, pulling the fire into his throat so Santa can enter the house at no risk, and putting the fire back on the logs when Santa has returned to the roof. Not to mention that the dragon is much faster than the deer, thus saving Santa time on his world-wide flight. (I forgot to mention the carol-singing pagans that live in the woods and on the slopes of the mountains, and while they are an important aspect of the forest itself, they are also a main snack source for the dragon when he's bored, and a good safeguard for the dragon to prevent hunters from wandering too far into his midst. Basically, the dragon is a pimp, and the singing pagans are the ho-ho-hos.)

The next step for the village with the dragon and the Anguish Tree comes when Grace's brother finds a way to destroy the town, wreaking havoc upon all who live there and their happy little lives. I honestly cannot wait for this to occur, as I imagine it will be eggy possum. Ha, you don't know what I'm saying.

One day I tried to make fudge. I failed miserably and instead made a flagstone for the driveway. This morning I tried again, and to my ultimate delight I succeeded! It's delicious, in case you were wondering.

Yesterday we went to my cousin's house for their Christmas party, and it was fun. However, nothing kills a party like children vomiting after after-dinner wrestling with Uncle Tony. So one kid threw up, okay, no worries, I'm good. But when the second one threw up and was moving forward at the same time (right behind me) I had had enough and leapt up with much force and fear. And shuddering.

And it was gross.

Then after we went home from that we went to see TRON which was freaking fantastic!!!! I don't care what all you critics say, it was way awesome and was not slow or overbearing or anything like that, so shut up. Silly critics.

And so today I got up and made fudge and went to Grandma's house for HER Christmas party and that was cool too. No vomiting this time, but Tracy did take a nap due to not feeling well in her nose and throat.

After that party, we went to Alex's mom's house and now we're chillin. Well, some of us are.

Did I mention that the wedding photos are back? Cuz they are. And they're awesome. And I love them.

This is all.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Untitled A

It was that moment during sex when all that happens is a collapsing of bodies, breathing so hard that your mouth is wide open and there's drool running all over the place.

That's what it was like for Charlotte and Michael at that precise moment. His face was buried in her fake-raven hair, her breathing was uncontrollable and his was forced from the weight of her languid body laying on top of his. They stayed that way for a long time, just struggling to breathe and forcing air through their lungs. 

Charlotte finally roused herself from the bed and fetched a glass of water for Michael, who still was near comatose on the bed. It was very easy to love him, to make love to him. He was a well-rounded six-foot-three, muscular with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes. 

Charlotte sat down next to Michael on the bed, and played with her long hair. 

"You ready for some kind of lunch, baby?" She flipped her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers along his side, from his waist to his shoulder. 

"Yeah, sure, as long as its not that damn pasta you always make." Michael sat up and swigged the water and sloshed it around, spilling some on the sheets. Not the first thing to hit the blankets today. 

"What's wrong with my pasta? You said you liked Italian food." Charlotte stood quickly, forgetting her attempt to seduce Michael a second time. She ran a comb quickly through her hair and put on a silk tank top. Even though it wasn't form-fitting, her nipples still created miniature mountain peaks. 

"Nothing's wrong with it for God's sake, I just get tired of it. Sometimes I just want a goddamn hamburger." He stood from the bed also, setting the empty water glass on the roll top desk. 

"Well forget it, I'm not making you lunch if you're going to be an ungrateful bastard about it. I try to please you and what do I get? Not a damn thing." Charlotte pulled on her ratty jeans and went down the hall to the living room which was directly across from the kitchen. Michael followed her slowly, neglecting the water glass in the bedroom. 

"Look, Charlotte, it's fine. It just seems like the only thing you cook is pasta," Charlotte huffed at this, and Michael turned her to face him and continued. "All I'm saying is, I'd like a change once in awhile, something different besides pasta."

"Well I don't see you helping out with making any dinner, but yeah, I'll make something different." Charlotte had put on her jacket but took it off again and tossed it back on the couch. "What do you want to eat?" 

Charlotte crossed to the kitchen and Michael limped after her in his typical way. 

"Are you angry with me baby?" Michael came up behind Charlotte at the counter and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"Not particularly, but I don't appreciate it when you talk to me like that." Charlotte ignored Michael's embrace and pulled a frozen pizza from the freezer and began to unwrap it. 

"Fair enough." Michael leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the stove and watched Charlotte carefully. Her long black hair was still mussed from earlier, despite her having brushed it. Charlotte's ratty painting jeans really outlined the sexy curves of her ass and accentuated her long and slender legs. Sometimes Michael didn't know how he had managed to snag someone as hot as her as a girlfriend, especially since he was disabled. 

#25--Awards & Competitions

2011 Julia Peterkin Award
One short story, max 16 pages.
Prize: $1000
Entry Fee: $15
Read at Fall 2011 Visiting Writer's Series
DEADLINE: FEB 15, 2011

Wag's Revue Winter 2011 Contest
fiction/poetry/essays
Prizes: $1000, $500, $100, all pieces considered for publication
Entry Fee: $20
Winners announced in publication of Issue 9 in April 2011.
DEADLINE: JAN 15, 2011

The 2011 Third Coast Fiction and Poetry Contests
One previously unpublished story no more than 9,000 words OR three previously unpublished poems
Fiction Prize: $1000 and publication
Poetry Prize: $1000 and publication
Entry Fee: $15 (each entry fee entitles entrant to 1 year subscription to Third Coast).
DEADLINE: JAN 15, 2011

Crazyhorse Fiction Prize
A single short story
Prize: $2000 and publication
Entry Fee: $16
DEADLINE: JAN 15, 2011

#24--Denied by the Penguin!

I can't believe I haven't blogged again before now. I don't know what's gotten into me. (Gotten? Hm.)

Anyway, there are several exciting opportunities that I am anxious to take advantage of, like the Penguin Group Internship for Summer 2011 in New York, and the various scholarships and awards that can be found on freelancewriting.com. I also applied for a job yesterday as a Multimedia Assistant Editor for a publishing company that's local and doesn't require any relocation. It would be a great position to have and would put a lot of experience under my belt (and probably a decent chunk of money in my pocket as well). Because frankly, I'm tired (and absolutely done!) working for minimum wage. There is no getting ahead with minimum wage. Especially with piles of debt. Hooray! Not.

Outside of those things I am continuously being inspired by things and thinking of new things that I could incorporate into stories or base entire stories upon a certain character. And then I remember all the story ideas I've started and how much I'd like to finish those works so that I could potentially submit them to contests or to publishers directly for review and publication. Because it would be a freaking blast to see MY BOOK on shelves of every major book seller in the nation. Don't you think that would be cool?

**

As I was writing this post I was also looking at the requirements for the internship I mentioned with Penguin Group.. I'm not eligible. Why? Because I'm no longer a student, and an active member of Sigma Tau Delta. I'm an alumni for my chapter, but to my knowledge I'm not registered with the national alumni group, and even if I were, there are no internships or awards available to alumni through STD. I feel really crushed right now. I think I find something that I can use or do to better myself as a writer and to gain experience in my field and *somehow* by some cruel twisting and writhing of fate, I am denied the opportunity which I would have so readily accepted and worked hard to obtain and derive a good experience from.

As Penguin~Dreamer, I hope to somehow, someday be affiliated with Penguin Group and their mysterious workings. Whether I'm working for them or submitting my manuscripts or what have you, I want to be noticed. I want to be noticed by a publisher so they may publish my work, and once my work is published, so I can share my work with a larger audience. Because really, this blog is great, but I'm thinking only about three or four people regularly follow it.

HOWEVER! There are other opportunities with Penguin Group... like, full time employment... which I am *completely* eligible for... WHICH I WILL APPLY TO RIGHT NOW... but the job is in New York. City. Cost of moving, plus cost of living, plus the dog... can I make it? It would put Alex out of a job if we moved "upstate," and I have no idea what kind of things he could do while I'm working at Penguin, and we would probably HAVE to have a job apiece, and that's only feasible if his job pays higher than minimum wage once we get there. It's hard to envision. But I'm applying anyway.

I WILL MAKE THIS WORK.

I really want this.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

#23--Political Motivations

So this will be my first blog post for the month, hooray.

Also, some of my goals have changed for this month. I still intend to work on my creative works here. I'm hoping to return to Angela's Legacy at some point, work on the new Morph, and maybe even a shorter story that I've been thinking about for awhile now. I think I've mentioned it before on this blog, but perhaps not.

Again, I have created the conjoining blog site for larger chunks of work, so it is easier to read through overall, and easier to find the segments of each story. I have already moved all of Angela's Legacy into one post on the other blog page, so that's all nice and neat now.

So yesterday as I was sitting at home a particular book on my book shelf called out to me to read it, and so I opened it up to discover all that it had to say. Are you wondering what book it was/is? Okay fine, I'll tell you.

The Audacity of Hope, by Barack Obama.

You may scoff, or laugh or simply nod your head (or carry out whatever reaction you please) but I am finding it enlightening and educational to say the least. It has spurred me to think about things that I agree with and disagree with simultaneously, and has also made me think about our current government and politics, how those actions from the people in established offices affect me as a citizen, and inspired me to care a little about the policies and bills that are enacted. To make a change.

Well what difference does one person make, you say? Well, if several people decide they feel the same way about one thing, then who is to say that a change cannot be made, or that our voices and opinions will go unheard?

So much of this month (and continuously in the future) will be dedicated to researching current operations and topics on Capitol Hill, with some research into past administrations and policies for a better understanding of what is happening today and how I can affect that government for an overall better America.

Sounds noble doesn't it? Well, it is something I'm willing to work on, and with much effort. While I am no extreme hotshot or anything else like that when it comes to politics (either arguing or understanding them) there is nothing to say that I cannot have a greater understanding and learn some political know-how myself.

A challenge? Yes. Worth it? I think so.

Besides all that business, I am getting excited for the holidays, and I can't wait until they finally get here. Our good pals will be back in the area from their new home in VA, and it will be good to get to visit with them (which I desperately hope we are able to do...not sure how long they'll be in town, or what other plans they'll have already made). Additionally, I hear it is supposed to be blizzard conditions on Monday (sorry Jason) so we'll see how that goes.

I love winter.

I never thought I'd say that.

*Off to story writing!*

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

#22--The SLCaro Blog (Fiction Only)

Alright people! I've started a new blog! It will be more professional looking, and story segments will be more easily organized. The new blog will be connected to this one, so it will be very easy to switch back and forth between the two.

Grace and I are doing NaNo all over again in December, since I failed for November, and, yeah. So, I'm excited to start NaNo next month, and I swear my word count is going to be fantastic! Yeah! Woo!

Anyway, I tried typing this post once, but I failed, and dinner is being cooked by my wonderful husband (mandarin chicken and rice noodles!) and I'm watching How I Met Your Mother. :)

See you all tomorrow for NaNo round two!

haHA!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

#21--Haunted by the Mares

It feels like it's been a long week. And maybe it has.

I've had some pretty icky dreams this week that I'd rather not get into at the moment, rather, I'll just mention that they were pretty terrible and didn't make me feel very good overall upon waking.

Most of the holiday week was spent with housework and such, and the first part of the week was rather productive, but I've been slacking off the last part. This makes me feel irresponsible, but I suppose that's how it goes.

There has been a lot on my mind lately as well. I will also not get into these things right now, because I don't want to go into it.

Ha, so let this be the most vague blog posting ever! :-D

I don't mean to be vague but whatever. Take it or leave it.

I really want to start my new job. I really want to get this loan stuff figured out, because honestly its killing me.

I suppose all things will happen in time, as they need to.

More later I guess.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

#20--Dreams of Snow and Rolly Chairs

Got a call from the old manager today, wanting my statement as to why I left. I didn't call her back today, but I might just go in tomorrow and have a conversation with her rather than just calling her on the phone. It'll just be easier that way, and it will be easier for her to understand where I'm coming from in person.

I made chili tonight for dinner, and it was fantastic. I made it sort of according to the Mickey Mouse chili recipe and sort of going with my instincts. To go with it, I made beer bread with a pumpkin ale instead of making cornbread. One, because cornbread can be kind of boring, and two, because there are people who are allergic to corn. But I was glad for the change.

On another note, for whatever strange reason I really want it to snow. And I want it to snow like crazy... Usually I hate snow. I mean, I hate it only because its amazingly cold, melts into my gloves and gets into the most impractical places (and then doesn't melt!). But I just really want it to snow.

Also, I love the holidays. Just sayin'. Not so much because of the presents, but because of the time we get to spend with those that we love (like family, even if our families embarrass us or make us uncomfortable). I suppose this is included with the thoughts on snow in a perspective change that I've had at some point between last year and this year.

A slightly different topic now: I really don't understand how anyone can stand to go shopping on the busiest day of the year (black friday) especially when people are so inconsiderate of other people and when lives are very likely at stake. Like last year, when that WalMart employee got trampled because customers broke the barrier to get into the store. And to the other people who never thought to stop and help that person, but who saw the problem: Shame on you. I cannot comprehend the reason for such bad behavior and such lack of compassion. I suppose that's my real pet peeve lately. That term, "pet peeve" doesn't seem to really cut it for me either. It doesn't express the extent to which it really bothers me that people act that way.

But besides all that, I have this week off due to the change in jobs that's happening at the moment. I am very excited to start at the new place soon, since it will pay much better money than my former job, and will include benefits, set hours, and a set schedule, and a rolly chair. :-D

I think this all for now. Ciao!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Morph II

It had been exactly five years since Eva had started at the International Builder's Preservation and Creation Society. She was expecting a raise any day now, but that was not what was bothering her lately.

A new addition to the Builder's team was Inaki, an older gentleman with shaggy salt and pepper hair that got in his eyes all the time. Yesterday was his first official day on the team where he was not being directly supervised by someone. Eva hoped they wouldn't assign Inaki to one of her rooms, because it hardly seemed fair to expect him to create as much as she did in a day.

"I really do not want to be less productive if I have to watch over him. I have to get this room done today, or Bruce is going to be angry with me again." Eva told Marcus at their quaint breakfast table. Marcus was her husband of a year and a half. They had met at IBPCS, and nothing could have kept them apart from each other.

"I would not worry about it too much, honey. Bruce may not even pair Inaki with you today. I bet Inaki still gets to shadow some of the slower builders for a few weeks--Bruce generally has the newbies ease in that way." Marcus took a large bite of his hot cereal and chewed voraciously. Eva only played with hers with her spoon, slowly making swirly patterns with the cinnamon that graced the top of her oatmeal. She sighed and put the spoon aside.

"I suppose you are right, Marcus." Eva subconsciously chewed on her bottom lip.

"Come on now, Eva." Marcus brushed her cheek with his thumb, gently tilting her chin upwards and meeting her shy gaze with his own steady one. "I've never seen you worry about a new builder like this before, but I do not think you have anything to worry about this time either. Bruce knows that new employees slow down the team, and he has already planned for that I am sure." He dropped his hand from her face and held her hands in his. "Do not forget that I love you, Eva."

Eva blushed miraculously, and let out a small sigh. She picked up her spoon again and actually ate her oatmeal this time. "I love you too, Marcus." Eva smiled at him and they finished their breakfast contentedly.

**

When Eva and Marcus got in to work, they saw Inaki waiting outside. He was wearing a long woolen trench coat with fur lining in the hat, smoking a fat cigar.

"Afternoon," Inaki said to them.

Eva looked at Marcus and he looked back at her. Marcus smiled a little half smile, sending Eva a wink.

"Good morning, Inaki. Ready to start the day?" Marcus asked politely enough. Eva was biting at her lip again in anxiety.

"More or less. I have to be here, so here I am." Inaki threw down his half smoked stogie and squished it out with his foot. He smirked at Marcus and Eva, following them in through the door.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Morph

Inaki (ardent)
Eva (one who gives life)
Marcus (hammer)

Third person, limited. Get close on emotions and some physical experiences.

**

Napolean Otto bounced along in the rusty old jalopy with some discomfort. The plastic window coverings were missing, allowing the wind to carry heaping mouthfuls of dust into Napolean Otto's frowning face.
'I hate the outback,' he thought to himself in exasperation. 'This better be worth my time.'

Napolean Otto was a short man, not unlike Napolean Bonaparte, his namesake. Otto was still several inches taller, and much stockier than the legendary man. Otto had dark hair, a bushy caterpillar mustache and a hint of olive in his complexion. He was often mistaken as being Hispanic in heritage, but any careful eye could see his heritage was drawn down from Greece.

Otto had been a friend to Doctor Jack Price for some years now, though the two of them had not spoken in recent months. Otto assumed that Jack did not want anything to do with him after he introduced Jack to the love of his life, Mariana Richards.
It must have been February that we last talked to each other, Otto wiggled his large mustache in contemplation. I wonder what precisely Jack has been  up to.

Napolean Otto drove along the deeply rutted path towards the highest crest of the hill, where Jack Price's house was nestled behind some of the tallest scrub bushes around. 

Eva's writing exercise just was not working out for her. She had been trying to write about Doctor Jack Price for some time now, but found it unfulfilling, just like so many other things in her life. Eva heaved a great sigh, scrapped the current paragraph and began again. 

Just as Napolean was preparing to make the final turn onto the path that led to Jack Price's home, the radio in the old jalopy came on. The dispatcher that Otto had rented the jalopy from was needing it for transporting the prime minister in from the airport

Again, a dud beginning. Eva sighed, wondering if she should just stop and get back to planning her new room. The plans did not have to be done until Wednesday, so she still had some time. 

Napolean Otto wished he was not on a plane. He had never really like planes, but there were times when it was necessary to use one. He had boarded the flight in Detroit, made a change in San Fransisco, and was about five minutes out from landing in Sydney, Australia.
'I have been on this plane for too long,' Napolean thought to himself, rustling his caterpillar mustache. He huffed a sigh, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He was not tired, but his eyes did not want to stay open either. The familiar ding, ding of the seat belt activation bothered him more than the average person would generally be bothered by such a plain sound.

He sighed again, quick enough to jostle the bristles of his thick black mustache. Napolean's mustache was peppered occasionally with stark white hairs. His wife always told him that he should dye it all one color, rather than letting it go slowly into a hodge podge of black, white, and gray. "It looks so messy when it is all different colors like that," she would bark crisply at him. She would never look him in the face when she said this, but insisted on it anyway. He would only wiggle his lip at her, to see if she would notice, but she never did.


Napolean Otto wiggled his lip in much the same way now, with that same mild irritation that he always tried to express in response to his wife's comments. He blinked slowly, settling into a fine squint that left him looking very angry indeed. The flight attendant stopped next to him just then, double checking for buckled seat belts and smiling in his direction absentmindedly. He blinked at her, and she gave a small nod in recognition.


"It will just be a few more minutes, sir." She finished off the comment with another practiced smile. Napolean was not buying it. He let his thoughts wander to his mission in Australia.


Doctor Jack Price had been a long time friend to Napolean Otto, and Napolean was not about to forget it. That was why Napolean was going to visit Jack now. Jack had returned from a mission trip for Doctors Without Borders about a month and a half ago, but Jack's working partner had not returned from her mission on her pre-determined date. Mariana Wilkes was approximately three weeks late in returning to Australia, and Jack was concerned for her.


Napolean was not sure exactly the relationship that Jack had with Mariana--they always claimed that their communications and interactions were purely for professional purposes only, but Napolean Otto was not very well convinced.


Napolean was jostled by a bit of turbulence as the plane descended further. He gripped the arm rests for security, and ground his teeth together in an effort to not let his nervousness show on his face. The gentleman to his right urged the woman next to the window to open it, so that they might look at the pink clouds. Napolean did not care about the pink clouds, and rather wished that the woman would not let herself be wooed by the man in the middle. The man was not good at making a smooth line delivery, so her reactions alternated between laughing at him and laughing with him. Napolean was more or less disgusted by it, but he remembered back to when he was courting his own wife, before they were engaged. It had been a fun time, a care free time. Maybe he should not be so quick to judge.


Before he knew it, the plane had touched down, and he stood quickly to collect his bag from the overhead cabin. No one ever dared to take space away from Napolean after he had stood up in the aisle. He was not a large man by any means but plump, and also had an intimidation factor that most people picked up on and also tried to avoid. His wife also told him multiple times that his mustache forced people away from him. Napolean did not mind one way or another what people thought of him and his mustache, but figured that anyone worth talking to would find that his mustache was not that intimidating after all.


Napolean Otto exited the plane quickly, thanked the pilot and attendants on his way out, and made his way toward the customs desk. After his passport was stamped, he went through security and found a beverage counter. The airport in Sydney seemed relatively empty for a weekend, but it could have also been the fact that it was still early morning, and many travelers may not be up and about. He ordered a water and tipped the clerk more than was necessary for such a small purchase.


Napolean walked further through the terminal before he found where all the people were sitting. Most had gone through preliminary security and were sitting by their required gate, waiting for their flights. Still, it seemed odd that so many people would sit still so consistently. The phenomenon made him uneasy, and he quickened his pace toward the exit. Napolean hailed a cab and gave directions to the driver for a small hotel on the western edge of town.
I should probably continue on to Alice Springs tonight, Napolean thought, sipping his water in the backseat of the cab. That is another flight though, and that last one wore me out.

Eva wished she could get the beginning right. That was what every writer wanted--to get their story right. She was beginning to feel light headed from all the sighing she was doing, and so gave up on that and started again. She decided to try starting from another view point. Perhaps that would work. 

Doctor Jack Price was a great man.

It did not work.
“Ugh,” Eva paused to rub the chill out of her fingers before putting them to the keyboard again. Her delicate fingers hovered over the black keys, unmoving. She bowed her head with her eyes closed and drew a long steady breath inward. 'This was supposed to be relaxing, not a chore.' Eva shook her head and saved the document anyway, closing the lid of the laptop quickly.

Eva left her part sun room and part office and strolled down the hall to the kitchen. It was a brief walk but the hall was dark, so she moved slowly. Eva had lived in the house for years but she still was not used to the narrowness of the hallway or the creaks in the floor boards. 

In the kitchen Eva poured herself more tea from the kettle on the stove. Twinnings was her favorite, but she had not had any shipped in lately. The flavor did not even matter to her, as long as it was Twinnings, she knew she had the best. She grabbed a yellow note pad from the small kitchen table and looked it over. On the first page was a note that Marcus had written her, ages ago. She touched her fingers lightly to the writing on the wide lined paper. The pencil marks were faint from all the other times she had run her hands over his sweet words. Eva sat the notebook aside and sipped at her Earl Grey tea. The taste seemed off today, but it was more than likely due to her bitter mood than the tea itself. 

Eva's cell phone rang, breaking up the despicable silence with an obnoxious ring tone. She only got that ring tone so that she would actually hear her phone. There was no way you could miss the annoying chant of "Um-ba-rella, ella, ella, ey, ey..." 

Eva picked her phone up from the old battered table, and looked to see who was calling. It was Inaki.

#19--Harry Potter Made Me Miss the Deadline

Today was really eventful.

I know I only have myself to look at for this, but I really was looking forward to submitting a little something to the magazine call for talent. Alas, I did not get that worked out on time, and when I did remember this yesterday, it was already after midnight. :(

Back to today: I got to sleep in! Then I met my friend Gracie for lunch (yayness!) and she drove me to my work, where I very ferociously went in and picked up my check and resigned, effective immediately. I feel so much better to be out of that poisonous place, and out from under that horrible woman and her egotistical power trip. I only hope that other girls who work there realize what's going on and choose a better path for themselves. Additionally, I will be making a call to human resources on Monday, for everyone's benefit.

After that I helped another friend with her decision, and further assisted to help her find another job, and as a result she has an interview on Monday. I'm excited for her, and I really hope she gets it.

In the meantime, I'm VERY behind on my story, but I do hope to pull some kind of magnificent cartwheels out of my ass. The last posting was meant to be the story beginning for the x-th time, but all I managed to stay awake for was finding names for my characters. I literally fell asleep with the laptop in front of me, the tv on, etc. I was sooo tired.

But going to see HARRY POTTER will do that to a person. Also had a magnificent time with dearest Gracie, and this first segment of the last movie was very well done with suspense and overall not-feeling-so-good, while simultaneously injecting small happy moments and dabs of humor. I really cannot wait until the last installment comes out, and I do intend on being somewhere for a Harry Potter movie-a-thon which may span two days, leading up to the midnight release. Twill be epic!

And again, I find myself very tired indeed, but its almost blasphemous to go to bed so early...

So on to NaNo!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Sunday, November 14, 2010

#18--dream

I had a dream.

Have.

Ok, its been done before.


Think Rumplestiltskin. The descendent of.

I'm trying to think of fun names for this awful character.

Moukla, or Horla comes to mind. Something old sounding, something evil.
(some research will be done on this part).

The more evil actions he commits, the uglier and more like a zombie he looks outwardly (to those that he is specifically badgering).

He is a new kind of bad person from his heritage and the true Rumplestiltskin. He doesn't trade, he only brings misery, and feeds on emotions until someone does something drastic, and then he feeds on them.

Sort of vampiric in a sense.

***

Different rooms in a house are different locations on the globe. Like you've actually traveled there, not like it being a theme room.

There are builders who are responsible for different aspects of each room: trees, grass, buildings, inserting people prototypes for testing the new environment.

He is plaguing a builder and her new husband, only she can see his true nature.


***

More to come.

#17--An Interview, A Rejuvenation, Some Entertainment Recommendations

Yesterday I had a job interview, and I pretty much got it! Now I just have to wait until I go back for paperwork (should be next week sometime). I really can't wait to start at the new place, because it will be awesome and I'll earn more money. And it will be fun to work with Amy also!

On another note, I feel rejuvenated for NaNo, even though I'm not writing on it tonight, I am intending to work hard to get caught up/make solid progress on the story I'm working on. The job transition should be great for that, time wise.

Thirdly, a blogger on here that I highly respect and admire, stylerookie (pardon me for not including a link here, because I haven't figured that out yet), has posted that she is working on a collaborative magazine launch, meaning they're looking for writers and artists and other talent. This is very exciting, and is definitely an opportunity that doesn't come along very often! So I have until the 19th to send in my submission/resume/cover letter/a bit about myself. That's five/six days from now! So Grace and I are going to work on our submissions on Monday, which will be perfect. I personally intend to alternate between working on the submission for this magazine and working on NaNo product.


Also, as a small but rather significant sidenote:
Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs is a great movie.
If you haven't heard A Silent Film before, then you should probably look them up.
I've also been listening to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Antennas Up, Ha Ha Tonka, Florence and The Machine, and Sneaker Pimps. (Check it out).

Friday, November 12, 2010

Lady Astray, New Beginning

Napolean Otto wished he was not on a plane. He had never really like planes, but there were times when it was necessary to use one. He had boarded the flight in Detroit, made a change in San Fransisco, and was about five minutes out from landing in Sydney, Australia.

I have been on this plane for too long, Napolean thought to himself, rustling his caterpillar mustache. He huffed a sigh, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He was not tired, but his eyes did not want to stay open either. The familiar ding, ding of the seat belt activation bothered him more than the average person would generally be bothered by such a plain sound.

He sighed again, quick enough to jostle the bristles of his thick black mustache. Napolean's mustache was peppered occasionally with stark white hairs. His wife always told him that he should dye it all one color, rather than letting it go slowly into a hodge podge of black, white, and gray. "It looks so messy when it is all different colors like that," she would bark crisply at him. She would never look him in the face when she said this, but insisted on it anyway. He would only wiggle his lip at her, to see if she would notice, but she never did.

Napolean Otto wiggled his lip in much the same way now, with that same mild irritation that he always tried to express in response to his wife's comments. He blinked slowly, settling into a fine squint that left him looking very angry indeed. The flight attendant stopped next to him just then, double checking for buckled seat belts and smiling in his direction absentmindedly. He blinked at her, and she gave a small nod in recognition.

"It will just be a few more minutes, sir." She finished off the comment with another practiced smile. Napolean was not buying it. He let his thoughts wander to his mission in Australia.

Doctor Jack Price had been a long time friend to Napolean Otto, and Napolean was not about to forget it. That was why Napolean was going to visit Jack now. Jack had returned from a mission trip for Doctors Without Borders about a month and a half ago, but Jack's working partner had not returned from her mission on her pre-determined date. Mariana Wilkes was approximately three weeks late in returning to Australia, and Jack was concerned for her.

Napolean was not sure exactly the relationship that Jack had with Mariana--they always claimed that their communications and interactions were purely for professional purposes only, but Napolean Otto was not very well convinced.

Napolean was jostled by a bit of turbulence as the plane descended further. He gripped the arm rests for security, and ground his teeth together in an effort to not let his nervousness show on his face. The gentleman to his right urged the woman next to the window to open it, so that they might look at the pink clouds. Napolean did not care about the pink clouds, and rather wished that the woman would not let herself be wooed by the man in the middle. The man was not good at making a smooth line delivery, so her reactions alternated between laughing at him and laughing with him. Napolean was more or less disgusted by it, but he remembered back to when he was courting his own wife, before they were engaged. It had been a fun time, a care free time. Maybe he should not be so quick to judge.

Before he knew it, the plane had touched down, and he stood quickly to collect his bag from the overhead cabin. No one ever dared to take space away from Napolean after he had stood up in the aisle. He was not a large man by any means but plump, and also had an intimidation factor that most people picked up on and also tried to avoid. His wife also told him multiple times that his mustache forced people away from him. Napolean did not mind one way or another what people thought of him and his mustache, but figured that anyone worth talking to would find that his mustache was not that intimidating after all.

Napolean Otto exited the plane quickly, thanked the pilot and attendants on his way out, and made his way toward the customs desk. After his passport was stamped, he went through security and found a beverage counter. The airport in Sydney seemed relatively empty for a weekend, but it could have also been the fact that it was still early morning, and many travelers may not be up and about. He ordered a water and tipped the clerk more than was necessary for such a small purchase.

Napolean walked further through the terminal before he found where all the people were sitting. Most had gone through preliminary security and were sitting by their required gate, waiting for their flights. Still, it seemed odd that so many people would sit still so consistently. The phenomenon made him uneasy, and he quickened his pace toward the exit. Napolean hailed a cab and gave directions to the driver for a small hotel on the western edge of town. I should probably continue on to Alice Springs tonight, Napolean thought, sipping his water in the backseat of the cab. That is another flight though, and that last one wore me out.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

II -- NaNo: Lady Astray

Just as Napolean was preparing to make the final turn onto the path that led to Jack Price's home, the radio in the old jalopy came on. The dispatcher that Otto had rented the jalopy from was needing it for transporting the prime minister in from the airport. 

**This blip may or may not be used in the actual story, and the first section for this story may be rewritten at a later time (this weekend). Some research has uncovered that I need to get some facts straight before I can continue.



Please stay tuned for more. :-D

I -- NaNo: Lady Astray

Napolean Otto bounced along in the rusty old jalopy with some discomfort. The plastic window coverings were missing, allowing the wind to carry heaping mouthfuls of dust into Napolean Otto's frowning face.

I hate the outback, he thought to himself in exasperation. This better be worth my time.


Napolean Otto was a short man, not unlike Napolean Bonaparte, his namesake. Otto was still several inches taller, and much stockier than the legendary man. Otto had dark hair, a bushy caterpillar mustache and a hint of olive in his complexion. He was often mistaken as being Hispanic in heritage, but any careful eye could see his heritage was drawn down from Greece.

Otto had been a friend to Doctor Jack Price for some years now, though the two of them had not spoken in recent months. Otto assumed that Jack did not want anything to do with him after he introduced Jack to the love of his life, Mariana Richards.

It must have been February that we last talked to each other, Otto wiggled his large mustache in contemplation. I wonder what precisely Jack has been  up to.


Napolean Otto drove along the deeply rutted path towards the highest crest of the hill, where Jack Price's house was nestled behind some of the tallest scrub bushes around.

#16--Channeling My Inner Witch for the Greater Good

I've been working overnights lately at work in order to build up my hours on my paycheck--gotta make dem monies.

The only problem with this is that it is now NOVEMBER and for anyone who's anyone they will know that November is NaNoWriMo. And no I haven't started, and yes I've intended to, but its difficult when you wake up to go to work and come home to sleep and leave for work when you wake up again. Today wasn't so bad--I actually worked during the daytime, but here I am now, adopting my previous typical "writing at night" routine. This is fine with me, but I have a lot of catching up to do.

In addition to the excitement/anxiety associated with NaNo, I've been looking for a new job, because having an inconsistent schedule for inconsistent times really doesn't cut it for paying the ever increasing bills. Being married takes a toll on you, not because its awful (whoever said that about their marriage probably shouldn't have tied the knot anyway) but because once you go from a single unit to a double unit things pile up. Like insurance. And student loans.

Also, the holidays are swift approaching and my birthday was just last weekend (and yes, Halloween too). I was an impromptu pirate and it was fabulous (thank you Carol for letting me borrow the goods). My birthday was pretty fantastic as well--got a couple new books, one fiction, the other a collection of blips from various writers about their favorite books. I was sold by the preface, where Ray Bradbury discussed his high appreciation for Poe's works--I feel as if I am bound to follow in his footsteps. (Much happiness ensues here).

Needless to say, I've been a busy gal lately. And happy for the time at work (but not for the headaches or backaches at the end of the day), and happy for the additional sleep I've been getting as a result.

Touching on some posts from previously, I keep meaning to discuss in more length the idea of the collective conscious, as well as that one thing (it has a name, i know it) where people fail to realize that other people exist--just another car on the highway kind of idea. Group mentality. Mass hysteria. These are all very interesting studies to me. I feel there should be a correlation between them and politics, and if there are any studies that have worked on that subject in particular. I suppose some research is in my future. HOWEVER.... I feel it may be more important/interesting/easily workable to link this "group think" idea with politics... Specifically meaning in regards to government and what we would like to see happen for our economy, education, world health (including "going green"), etc. The only issue there is: there are so many differing viewpoints that it would be rather difficult to persuade even 50% of the nation to feel one thing or another as far as political viewpoints. So much of what goes on in the government is ridiculous that it would also be difficult to pinpoint those plans or ideas that will do the people the most good. So, rather than trying to convince the majority of citizens of one thing or another, it would almost be easier to work on those who are in office directly. Its a much smaller percentage, but harder to reach due to security levels.

I realize this idea/concept isn't fully formed yet and that I don't have (entirely outlined that is) a viewpoint which would be applicable to those in office. But as I sit here and think about what kind of good (or evil)  could be done for our country through this method, I also suspect that this kind of action would be a precursor to a governmental revolution. AND it is entirely true that we are allowed to overthrow our government if they get ridiculous... but I feel that the American citizens have forgotten this. They (being the government) cannot possibly jail EVERY citizen simultaneously (unless they bring back concentration camps, etc).  I am not endorsing that we (as a collective group think America) go about bashing people's heads in to make our point, but play our game judiciously at first, and when we hit the last unbreakable wall, we find another way. Because if Americans are anything, we are resilient. We may be injured but we are pretty darn good at bouncing back full force.

COME ON AMERICA. let's whoop some ass.

***

On another note, as it gets colder, i feel more and more witchy. I am being slapped in the face with new ideas for stories all the time, and I am working up a way to build a schedule for myself. I want to write more and more, and work on several projects at once. And of course upon their completion I'll send the manuscripts off to publishers and see where that takes me.

As for now, I'm off to start that story for NaNo that I've been talking about and planning for the last month and a half. Here goes 50K!!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

#15--The Infamous B

Life.

I want to start this story!

But life brings me down a little bit.

Not in a bad way, but just enough to leave me too tired to write anything besides a nagging journal entry.

From Friday, she's being charged with attempted murder. Two very large words. Its hard to get the mind around. Bail posted at 250K. That's a quarter mil!

The Infamous B texted me today, saying he respected my wishes by not coming to the wedding, wished us both the best, even though he's hurt that he wasn't included, and that he wishes me a happy birthday this weekend too. He phrased it nicely, but it was still about him. Sad. Pathetic. *sigh* I don't think this can ever be fixed. I'm not sure I want it to be. I can't give in, I can't give up on myself. I won't respond, which will make me look awful to him, but if I do, it leaves room for rudeness and insults that are undeserved (towards me).

I am washing my hands of it for now, since I don't like to think about it and all it does is bum me out.

Meant to get dinner with my mom this week but a bigger task than anticipated for replacing shocks on the hubby's suburban has led us to cancel for now, and weekend plans plus sunday work puts it back into next week sometime.

I'm looking forward to Thursday with Gracie, cuz it'll be fun and I'll probably feel better after burning stuff.

I keep getting compliments on my wedding ring, which is fine with me cuz frankly its fantastic. It's a puzzle ring (four bands) with a stone--opal triplet to be precise. The setting looks like a little crown. It makes me happy to look at it, though it is a tad loose, its not loose enough to send back for a resizing. Plus I don't think I could go without it for very long. :D

NaNo is coming up fast. Faster than I thought. I'm not nervous about it, I just hope that in four days or so I can manage to be motivated enough to attack the project head on. I have a few days to get back into my groove... and I seem to be doing okay with these entries, so hopefully that helps.

Another reason I look forward to Thursday, I think that my mind will be more clear after that day... Chucking stuff that is emotional clutter should help me to get straightened out in time for NaNo, and the continuous job hunt that is my life.

Ah. Sleepiness is kicking in, so I fear this is a relatively short post as I am off to bed.

Monday, October 25, 2010

#14 NaNo Planning & Research

Dr. Jack Price--> general surgeon, physician
Napolean Otto (formerly Pedro, for those who care) --> mechanic from Detroit
Jack's missing lady friend --> epidemiologist, general surgeon, and physician.
Napolean Otto's twin brother --> doing field work in the same area as Lady

1. Relationship between Price & Otto... longstanding/mysterious beginnings OR, build from scratch for this novel? (I'm thinking long standing for the purposes i have).
2. where does the lady go that she does not return from? (also, what is her name?)
3. need background info on the lady, what she's like... tidbits about her relationship with others, especially Dr. Price.
4. How long has she been missing? A few days? Years? Is it easy/difficult to notice that she's missing--> how long does one expect to stay in one particular area? It can take years to "fix" a certain issue.
5. Where is she during her missing period? This is important because the place she goes to is where the people will hold her hostage. (or something)




~~Doctors without Borders --> An international medical humanitarian organization working in more than 60 countries to assist people whose survival is threatened by violence, neglect, or catastrophe primarily due to armed conflict, epidemics, malnutrition, exclusion from healthcare, or natural disasters.

~They accept medical and non-medical volunteers.

~Cholera in Haiti
~Floods/tsunamis
~providing healthcare for isolated regions
~migrants overwhelm caring facilities

Nigeria --> oil, car bombings, lead poisoning cases.

~neglected tropical diseases:
http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/publications/topten/2009/story.cfm?id=4107&cat=top-ten-humantarian-crises


Very basic, sort of step-by-step intended (hopeful) plot:
1. From the beginning, Lady is missing.
2. Otto travels to Dr. Price, to comfort and assist him in finding Lady.
3. Lady was doing field work for DWB/MSF in an isolated place in __________ country.
4. The rest of the story is them searching for her, finding her? and so on. I don't want to give away anything, and other parts aren't thought out very far either.


**I tried to point out the major loopholes with the first set of questions... I think these are easily fixed. I also listed some info about DWB/MSF for the general audience... trying to think of a way to incorporate that into the novel. The bits with the ~ following DWB are current event happenings that would require assistance from DWB and their volunteers.

Please if you have any ideas or questions post as a comment below this entry, and I will do my best to address them. I realize that i have not given you the audience ALL of the information that is in my head, but this should be enough for now. Expect humor and quirks and the like that is not already mentioned here.

#13 FrEaKy!

So, this weekend has been fantastic (outside of that which happened on Friday, not really involving me...I'm not naming names, or giving details because its not my place and I can't do anything anyway even though i tried). SO.... yes. great weekend.

Today was the meeting for NaNo, the one i could go to this weekend. Went with Gracie! and it wasn't what i expected, but it is what it is.

HOWEVER. teeny-boppers annoy me. Please don't think that because you've done NaNo longer than me that you're better than me. I have a college degree--you don't even have tits yet.

I'm sorry, that was mean. *sigh* but still! (disgruntled). I look forward to going to another write-in, but i do not look forward to discussing much with them again or ever.

And suddenly I realize I am not ready for children. Not yet.

In the meantime there is some pumpkin fudge that G made, chillin in her fridge, and i do hope to get me somma dat. :D

My birthday is at the end of this week, and I'm looking forward to that. perhaps i'll have a laptop between now and then, on which to do all of my own writing and docu-saving. yes yes. hmm.

okay so this post isn't this freaky. but halloween is freaky, and that's coming up! and i might paint my face this year! (considering i haven't done anything for halloween since, oh, high school, this is an achievement).

Today's Top Five
(and greatest Top Five of All Time):
1. Mother Theresa
2. Ghandi
3. David Bowie
4. Thomas Edison
5. Jesus Christ

(in no particular order, or in whatever order you choose).
~~ Thank you Grace. ~~

On another note, after a talk again with dearest Alex, I have decided to change a bit about my NaNo story! No twin, (or maybe there is, but he is no longer the focal point!) Instead, a lover for Dr. Jack Price, and a missing one at that. I have some research to do this week--I want to be able to accurately describe what it is that is going on and how settings look (especially for those places I've never been to). Real writers need a good knowledge of just about everything, and you can begin anywhere. Real writers write for themselves and NOT for an audience.

To make this clear, I'm writing this blog for me. If it is noticed, fantastic! If not, meh. I mean, I can't worry about it being noticed, cuz then I'll try too hard and end up writing only crap. Blegh. There's enough fan fiction in the world already, lets get some originality going!

..... anyway.... letting that settle in our tummies, I'll start getting into the vibe of this story for NaNo. I am not quite sure what I'll title it yet (and the best titles are the ones you pick after the story is done anyway) but it will be easily differentiated from the other posts here on my blog.

I am still very excited about NaNo, and I cannot believe it is only next week! I'm wondering how I will need to compensate for the Thanksgiving days... I intend to be with my family, but my current job (retail, blegh) demands that I work... so... hm. I don't want to lose my job until i have a new one i can consistently rely on. I don't want to get a consistent new job at another retail place, because they just don't pay enough... so tomorrow i think will be a big day for me, searching for jobs and what not..

I basically need to make at least 9/hr in order to actually have a decent amount of money to work with outside of rent, bills, food, gas, insurance, more food, bigger bills (ah, winter), and *gasp/shudder* school loans!!! not to mention the delayed honeymoon Alex and I plan to take next year (hopefully) to europe for a couple of weeks to a month. ish. roughly. we hope. *sigh*

and car repairs/maintenance. for both of us. or even a new car. and a computer that i've been talking about for awhile now. :p money and the talk of it is exhausting.

i can only imagine how tired kidnappers must get of talking about money. and everyone always wants to "negotiate." blegh. poor guys. or gals. or both. maybe they should suck it up and earn money the respectful (but hard) way like the rest of us. or most of the rest of us. or whoever. sheesh.

this is a really random post now and i'm not really sure where all my thoughts are going or coming from so i think that for now this one is finished. thought i am sure some of you would be entertained if i continued on and on  in this post. whew.

<3

Saturday, October 23, 2010

#12--We Are The Zombies, Of the World!

Life is strange.

I say this because its true.

And because you can experience any range of events in one given day.

If your day is dull, maybe you haven't experienced it enough.

Sometimes i think about the cars on the highway. We get so mad at each other for cutting in line, not using blinkers (its the law!), and for driving slower than the speed limit... but to what point and purpose? Why do we get so angry with each other?

Society today leads me to think that we are ALL brainwashed. We are ALREADY zombies of our own nature. We go through the motions of our day, acting but not experiencing. If you wake up with a kink in your neck and a headache, it constitutes the entire day as rotten and not worth anything. Driving on the highway we see *cars* not the people in them. If we do look at the people in other cars, its generally with a scowl on our faces or even a finger in the air. Its a different kind of society on the road, based on size and the power of your engine.

Every person in every car has a life. A mother, a boyfriend. A wife, three daughters and a sick uncle. You can be guaranteed to see upwards of several hundred different vehicles in one day, all with at least one person occupying that vehicle. You may never see that person again. If their day is already shitty, then why would you want to reinforce that negative feeling?

I heard somewhere that for every happiness there is an unhappiness. For every happy person, someone else is depressed. I have no way to prove this for certain (though it would be an interesting social experiment) but the more I look for it the more I see it. I suppose most theories are that way, whether they be social, conspiracy or otherwise.

Today I experienced doldrums, excitement, happiness, stress, worry, zombie-ism, relief, excitement, relaxation, stress, laughter, relief, contentment, surprise, shock, tragedy, heartbreak, relief, worry, heartbreak, disappointment and am currently slipping into a stage of relaxation/pre-saturday stress.

That's a lot!

Think about all the emotions you go through in your day, step-by-step, and see where that leads you. At the end of the day, was it a good one? A nice little exercise to cheer up those skeptics out there: At the end of the day, right before you fall asleep, list FIVE things from your day that were GOOD things. Don't list it if its bad/made you uncomfortable/caused stress or worry. List only things that were good about the day. Struggling? Keep it up. Every day.

We have so many reasons to be blessed with the things that we have and so many of us take these things for granted on a daily basis. Those of us with cars drive them everywhere, polluting things. Those without cars ride bicycles or carpool with a friend. Women who are capable of childbirth have too many babies that they never wanted in the first place and so literally throw them away. Those of us who desperately hope and pray for children are barren and must turn to adoption.

I cannot express how ungrateful some people can truly be. At the same precise moment when one is fully ungrateful for something, they are generally making decisions that will change their lives forever. For the worse? Perhaps. Depends on the decision. But really, the important thing here is, when we are taking advantage of the ones we love or the things we have created, we almost never have their best interests at heart, and so make the "wrong" decision.

***

Pain is undeserved. Agreed. But without pain is to be without progress. That is not to say that one cannot make progress except through pain. There are other ways of achieving one's goals. There is trial and error and trial again.

If you think you're pretty low on the totem pole, and you think you can't make it, and you say to yourself "I can't," then you won't. You never will.

You have to keep your chin up, suck in your breath, and put one foot in front of the other.

Friday, October 22, 2010

NaNo Prep (#11)

So, ladies and gentlemen, this post will be different than the others I've posted before.

(Sorry this isn't about Angela this time, but I fully intend to catch back up with her at a later time.)

NaNoWriMo is swift approaching! As I am planning and thinking, plotting and internally drafting, I have come to realize that while my story has a PLOT, it does not have anything necessary to fulfill said plot.

This issue was brought to my conscious mind today (earlier is better, I still have a week-ish to sort this out) and I can't get it out of my head now that the thought has arrived. This is a very light reference to Inception, so you might get it if you've seen it, if not, you may not get it anyway. lol.

Back to the point! There is an infamous Dr. Jack Price, and "Pedro," the nickname of Jamal Bartholomew Rutherford Swalinsky (or something like that). Pedro has a twin (male? probably.) Twin is missing. No one knows why. Pedro has his own resources, which might seem shady but really aren't. Pedro has done all in his power to find his twin, and has continuously failed.

The PROBLEM here, is that I don't know where the twin is. Its like playing "Where in the world is Carmen SanDiego" with myself. Its not only boring, but its irritating because I don't know the answer.

I have a feeling that once I determine where Twin is, whether or not he was kidnapped and by whom, (is that correct? gah, who and whom! i shake my fist at thee!) and from there whether or not he is safely recovered that all else will fall beautifully into place.

However, I know that is almost never the case when it comes to writing a story, and that one tiny (yet power-packed word) can change an entire story.

I'm not worried about not having a story at all, but on bigger projects like this I am mostly concerned with having great material all bubbling away in the pot, but not having a spoon to stir with, or not having bowls to serve it in. If that makes sense. As it should.

Sunday is one of two kick off parties this weekend for NaNo, and they are asking me to be able to more or less "sum up" my story into a sentence. A daunting task in itself, though not impossible. I am left feeling even more overwhelmed because I have a dangling plot line that is attached to nothing.

Its time to get serious for this. I need to know what I'm about to launch myself into. And once November first hits, at midnight, I will need to be able to not back down from what I've started. There is no changing lanes halfway down the road. I have to stay in the space I've chosen.

Another obstacle: Life tends to do what it wants, with you in it. I have (roughly) calculated that I need to write between 2500 and 3000 words a day MINIMUM or I will not make the goal of 50K for the competition. This is all fine and good, and with some practice, I know the time it takes and how much space on the comp. screen I am using with that amount of text. Yet I am nervous slightly about the fact that I am not currently writing that many words per day, and that sometimes I can only manage about 1500, or on very slow days, around 730. While word amounts may not mean much to some in the audience, the count is crucial. If I do not keep up with the count, I will not succeed.

This is make or break. Its game time and I've got my elbow pads on. Maybe I should prep my wrist brace just in case... Which makes me wonder if I should buy one for my left hand too... Hm.

Perhaps I'm overanalyzing. The snobby part of my brain says I'm better off being prepared and getting the willies out now, before the crunch begins.

Another obstacle: I am due to work an overnight shift on Halloween (which is fine) but it means that I cannot start right at midnight, that I will have to wait til daytime. And I'll probably be working the overnight on the first as well, so that *may* set me back at the beginning. I am also currently job searching, because 16 hours a week just doesn't cut it, and certainly doesn't make that fancy piece of paper with BA on it feel truly earned.

Alas, I feel I am rambling onto tangents unknown, and I feel that I should cease this behavior. Hm. Perhaps I shall write a beginning scene for the NaNo story... knowing there is no way I could crank out 50,000 words in a week, I'll not consider it cheating, lol.

Off I go!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

#10--Married!

So here I am, a married woman. Its been a long engagement, a long process, and LOTS of fun. Everyone who showed up was on the "cool" list, and absolutely everyone had a good time. There were times of high emotion, and times of stress, but we all did great to overcome our obstacles. (IT WAS REALLY FANTASTIC AND I CANNOT EXPRESS THAT ENOUGH, AND I'M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH MY HUSBAND!!!!)

I don't get the "real" photographs back from the photographer until 6-8 weeks from now, but I'm really looking forward to those. I'll have to figure out how to post pics in the meantime, so I can show off all my faves later.

Other than the wedding, my writing has been on a temporary hiatus for a few weeks now (or at least it feels this way). I am glad to announce that I will be getting back into the swing of things to make my final gear-up for NaNoWriMo in two short weeks. This Sunday is a kick-off party, so I will be going to that with my friend Grace. :D  (p.s. can't wait!)

I am still working on the piece temporarily entitled "Friend" but I will be resuming Angela's story until November hits (Jason, I know you are celebrating and booing all at the same time.)

I will try to post the progress from NaNo here, but if I cannot, then know that I am working on it very diligently.

Peace

Friday, October 8, 2010

#9--My Father Gave Me A Name

As in, Love Potion #9.

But this is not a funny post.

I WILL NOT DWELL ON YOU.
YOU WILL NOT BOTHER ME.
i hope.


I thought I fixed this. By ignoring it. HA. Maybe that's why its not fixed. Maybe that's why the wound is continuously reopened.

I AM ANGRY AT YOU!!!!!

You cannot exclude yourself for so long and claim its my fault for not contacting you, or claim that you were "there" all along. BULLSHIT.

:'(

You are a product of your own effort. Your lack thereof has changed the outcome of your physical product, and therefore I will never be like you. We will probably never relate.

I can't rely on you. I don't trust you. I never know when you're lying, or when you're telling the truth. Your "give a damn" is permanently busted.

I can generally forgive someone who has done wrong by me, and most times I can recognize (even if it takes time) that part of the wrong was due to my own actions/words; it has never been this way with you. It is NOT my fault that you cheated, that you lied, that you said one thing and did another. It didn't matter what you said when I was six, because I believed it. I was spoon-fed on lies, nursed with bitterness. When I was old enough to understand that you were lying, I chose not to believe what everyone else said. I ignored them because I WANTED to see the good in you.

But year after year, on the one day a year, I would not receive even a phone call. Never a card. You promised me things and then refused them later. You yanked my emotional chain back and forth, to and fro. Finally, I dismissed you.

If you really loved me, if you really had loved me all this time, you would have called me every day only to ask how the dog was. You would have scolded me for having my music on too loud at night, you would have made me do my homework, you would have asked me to help you with your own chores. You would have told me about how dangerous boys are, and you would have told me when you thought I was with the wrong one. You *should* have done these things, but you didn't.

YOU DIDN'T.

and that's all that matters.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbzt1HnVzIQ

Thursday, October 7, 2010

#8--Change of Pace

Dear friends and readers--

I am putting Angela's story on a temporary hold (Jason, I know you will say "What?!")

I feel a sudden urge to *gasp* WORK ON SOMETHING ELSE!

Horrific, I know.

However, I feel this project (which shall for the time being be called only "Friend") must be hammered out.

The really tragic part is, I will NOT be posting this one on my blog until it is finished. FINISHED!

It will be tricky for me to not post up something that I am working on at the moment, but I feel like I can achieve this quickly (hopefully before next weekend!) and therefore, have lots of hope for the project.

I can almost promise that it will be better than Angela's story, with more suspense, more twists, and a pinch more emotion.

Have questions about the project? Tough. I won't answer any until its done.

Its kind of nice being the only one who knows the story. :j

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Angela (VI)

Once Angela was safely seated inside the car she flashed a wink at the handsome cop before he closed the door. He smiled back at her naturally. He walked around the nose of the cruiser and let himself in the car. He leaned to the right when he buckled his seatbelt, and Angela placed her left hand on his cheek. He looked up at her, bewildered. Dwayne took her hand and gently lowered it from his face. He placed it back on her side of the console, and straightened up in his seat. The look she had given him sent a chill straight to his core. He felt like he could have been sweating bullets.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked him. "You don't like a display of affection once in awhile?" Dwayne took a moment to respond, giving himself a few seconds to make sure his voice would be under control when he spoke.

"I would hardly call that appropriate for two people in our position." He started the car and backed out of the parking lot.

"And what position is that? Doggie?" Angela flipped her head around to face out the passenger window. She buried her bandaged hands into her sweater on her lap.

Dwayne's mouth dropped open, but he closed it quickly. He didn't want a response from him to inspire her to go any further. He could consider filing sexual harassment but it was hardly anything to go on and would really cause more trouble than it was worth. He bit his bottom lip and changed lanes smoothly. He grinned a little as he thought of a response.

"If you don't behave yourself then I'll have to make you ride in the backseat." Angela whipped her head back around to face him but was taken off guard by his bold smile.

I didn't know he had it in him. Angela thought as she smiled back at him.

"Does that mean you'll be in the backseat with me?" She fluttered her eyes and smiled. Her smile seemed more like a dare. Dwayne had no idea what to say.

"One minute I'm trying to recover from what you say, and the next minute I'm doing it all over again. Do you have a limit?"

"No." She grinned that impish smile again. "I'll crack you eventually, Dwayne."

"Officer Jackson, please. Let's at least try to keep this a formal acquaintance?" He turned onto Old Southton Highway.

"Fine. I'll call you by your official title. But only in public, Officer," Angela smirked again. "As long as we're alone together, I'll keep to calling you Dwayne."

Dwayne shook his head a little in disagreement, but gave a sigh that indicated he was giving in to the argument. If you can even call it an argument. He thought for awhile about what she had said earlier about a display of affection. It has been a very long time...


"Where are we going anyway?" Angela interrupted his train of thought, but he was okay with making conversation. He had always been a social being.

"We're going to 'Eats 'R Us.' Its a small place but they have really great food." He glanced over at Angela and found her staring at him in what he took to be disgust. Her facial expressions are so varied, it was hard to tell what was what.

"Eats 'R Us?" Seriously?" Her mouth was still open in surprise. Or awe. Dwayne chuckled softly.

"It's cozy. You'll see." He put on his blinker and moved into the left turn lane. He noticed that Angela looked anxious as he pulled into the parking lot and found a space.

"Everything okay?" He waited a moment, and she looked down at her lap. "Angela?" He put two fingers under her chin and turned her face towards him. Her eyes were cloudy, threatening rain.

"I'm fine." Angela almost managed to whisper this, but couldn't quite bring herself to that volume.

"Is it your uncle? Or is there something else bothering you?" Dwayne had dropped his hand to hold hers. She glanced at his hand, taking a deep breath.

"I'm okay. Let's go in and eat." She shook away any sign of tears and smiled softly, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. Dwayne patted her arm and stepped out of the car, coming around to open Angela's door for her. He found she had already done his job for him.

Walking into the greasy diner, several patrons greeted Dwayne by his first name. He waved at some in a far off corner, but he did approach an elderly man near to the door.

"How are you doing, Walter?" Dwayne shook the old man's speckled hand vigorously. Angela thought he looked too frail for that kind of action.

"I'm doing just great Dwayne. Who is this young lass you've got with ya?" Walter's thin hair was wispy and clumped together in small tufts that branched away from his scalp in all directions, like the branches of an old gnarled tree. His face had more age spots than his hand, and on part of his neck it was hard to tell if they were age spots or if they were birthmarks.

"This is Angela. She's in town on family business." Dwayne looked at Angela and was surprised to see her staring at Walter with her eyes wide. Maybe where she's from they have plastic surgery for old chums like Walter. She's already had enough for one day.

"Well that's dandy. Who is your family that you have business with?" Walter asked Angela directly, raising his bushy white eyebrows until they too looked like the tufts of hair on his head.

"My uncle passed away and I'm in charge of selling the house." Angela responded calmly, her face going a bit back into its normal expression. She still looked uneasy, but at least it wasn't obvious now.

"Tha's too bad. S'never a good thing when you lose a loved one." Walter put a spoonful of cottage cheese in his mouth and swished it around a little, giving Dwayne some time to jump in.

"Her uncle lived up in that house at the top of Suncrest Hill, on the backside of the Laughlin's place." Dwayne looked at Angela, who nodded meekly. "You remember Old Murray don't you?"

Walter smacked his spoon down on the table, sending small flecks of cottage cheese all over. Some of it landed on Dwayne's uniform but a bigger splotch managed to hit Angela's sweater that she was still carrying around with her.

Walter turned his head slowly to face Angela, his eyes narrowed. His mouth pulled back in a grimace, showing his jaunty yellow teeth.

"Of course I remember Old Mister Murray." Walter sneered again. "How could I forget such a despicable man?"

"Alright, Walter, I'm sorry I brought it up. Let's just drop it now." Dwayne took a step and placed himself between Angela and the table where Walter sat. He could tell the room was more quiet than before, but he paid no attention.

"I'll drop it for now, but you can bet your black ass that I won't forget. No sir, there is no forgettin' a wrong that's been done to ya." Walter's yellowed teeth were exposed again in another sneer. "No, I won't be forgettin' any time soon."

"I'm sorry, Walter. I'll stop by again tomorrow then you and I can have a chat to ourselves." Dwayne took Angela by the elbow and began to lead her away. When they were a table's distance away, Walter began to get a little louder in his exclamations of exquisite memory. "I'll talk to you later, Walter."

Dwayne directed Angela to a booth in the back of the diner and sat her down with her back to the door. There was a curtain next to the booth, tied up with a dusty black cloth. Dwayne untied the curtain and let it fall between them and the rest of the diner. It was rather successful at blocking out the other diners.

"That better?" Dwayne asked Angela.

"Yeah, thanks." She gave a half smile and picked up a menu from behind the ketchup bottle.

"How do they know when we're ready to order if the curtain is down?" Angela glanced over the small menu as she asked this, glad for the security the curtain seemed to provide.

"There is a little flag we run up on the outside. The rope is behind your shoulder, just there." Angela looked around and found the worn rope. She peeked her head out of the curtain to see the lowered red flag on the outside of the booth.

"Neat." Angela played with the rope for a moment before leaving the flag in its lowered position.

"Are you getting anything, Dwayne?" He shook his head and she continued looking at the menu. Once she had decided on the chef's salad, she hoisted the flag and the waitress came over promptly.

Dwayne ordered the biscuits and gravy, with a carafe of black coffee to go along. Angela went with a water. The waitress returned with their drinks and left again, just as efficiently as before.

"So, I was wondering," Angela paused to look at Dwayne in the eye. "What was with Walter when we came in? How does he know my uncle?"

"Ah. I figured you would ask me that." Dwayne sighed. "I suppose it all began years ago, before I was even graduated from high school. The two of them used to go drinking together. They were great pals, Stephen and Walter."

"This sounds cheesy. Is this really a legitimate story you're telling me?"

"You haven't even let me finish yet, missy."

"Sorry. Please continue." Angela sipped her water and listened as patiently as she could.

"As I was saying. There was a set of twins, Marlene and Maribel. They were beautiful girls, and sharp too."

"How do you know they were beautiful if all this happened before you paid any attention?" Angela interrupted again.

"I repeat. Let me finish." Dwayne shot her a quick glance and she huffed and waved him on. "The boys were both attracted to the twins, though at first they only ever saw one girl at a time. They fought over her. The girls thought it would be funny to tease them a little, so each girl would date Stephen and Walter on the same night. The only problem was they risked running into the other group since the town was so small. So they decided to reveal themselves, and were well received."

Dwayne paused here to pour himself another coffee. A few moments later, the food had arrived, so he paused a bit longer while they ate. He was finished rather quickly, so Angela didn't have to urge him to continue the story. She continued eating while he picked up again.

"The boys were fine with the arrangement of being with beautiful girls. They were all happy until Walter decided that he wanted to be with Marlene, who was Stephen's 'steady' as they called it. Stephen wouldn't allow the switch, and Walter became furious. What Walter didn't know was that the girls still would routinely pull the switcheroo on Stephen and Walter. They kept it up even though the boys would fight, so neither one of them really knew who it was they were kissing goodnight."

"So what happened then? Didn't they just get over it?"

"No, Walter never was good at letting anything go. So one evening, they were all together, and Stephen told Walter to leave him and his girl alone. Walter refused and grabbed Marlene by the arm. She resisted but he hit her, so your uncle defended her. They began fist-fighting in the street. Maribel was standing by, and other men had come out to cheer on the fight. No one would help. So Maribel jumped in to try to break it up. It ended up that Marlene got injured in the fray, and as a result died from her injuries. At her autopsy they discovered that she was pregnant."

"Wow," Angela gaped at this unexpected turn. "What happened to Maribel?"

"Well, since it was Walter and Stephen fighting, the family never really forgave either of them. Maribel went on to marry an accountant but died a year or two afterwards from missing her twin. Or that's what they say. Walter married someone else, but she left him later on in life. Your uncle holed himself up in that house on Suncrest Hill and never showed any interest in getting married or even courting."

Angela stared at her salad. She didn't feel hungry for it anymore. The waitress brought her a refill and boxed up her salad for her. Dwayne peeked around the curtain and saw that Walter had gone home for the evening. He escorted Angela back to the car, leaving money on the table for the tab and tip.

It was quiet for a few moments. Dwayne could tell Angela had a lot on her mind.

"I know it probably hardly matters now, but do you have any idea who or what was in my house today?" Angela sounded nervous, so Dwayne answered in a soft tone.

"I don't think there was anyone there. The wind was strong last night, its possible that it knocked a branch out of a tree and that is causing some noise around the house." He glanced over at Angela, but what he had said didn't seem to have helped.

"I didn't see anyone or anything in the house when I arrived. There were no footprints, no sign of forced entry into the house, nothing seemed to be missing or out of place." He heard Angela sigh in relief.

They pulled up to Aubrey's Bed and Breakfast, and he showed her inside. Angela followed, clutching her sweater to her with her bandaged hands.

"Miss Aubrey, this is Angela Murray. She needs a bed for the next two nights if you have it."

"Why certainly, Dwayne. Anything for the best man on the force." The redhead smiled and took a key from a box on the wall. "Do you have any bags dear?"

Angela shook her head no. "I'm afraid I forgot all my things in my car."

"Don't worry about your luggage, Miss Murray. I'll pick all that up for you tomorrow." Dwayne reassured her.

"Thank you." Angela spoke in a soft tone, and followed Aubrey up the stairs. "Goodnight, Officer Jackson."

"Goodnight, Angela." Dwayne waited for Aubrey to return from showing Angela to her room.

"If she wakes up screaming, or says anything about hearing clawing sounds, please let me know." Aubrey raised her eyebrows at this statement from Dwayne, but didn't inquire further.

"Not a problem, Dwayne. Will you be back tomorrow with her belongings?"

"Yes. And I intend to help her get whatever she needs for that old house. Her uncle was Stephen Murray."

"You don't say! Well, she'll get a good night's sleep here, and a hearty breakfast in the morning."

"Thanks, Aubrey. I owe you one." Dwayne turned to leave, his hand resting on the antique doorknob.

"No, Dwayne. It's on me." She grinned again. "Get outta here. I'll see you tomorrow." Aubrey disappeared into her office, and Dwayne walked back out into the dark, crisp night.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

#7--Orchestra

A big shout-out to my friend Grace, who is pure awesomeness in human form. Thank you. We will have to take advantage of that home kit i'm thinking.

A shout out to all those who read my blog. Thanks thanks.

On to the real stuff: today wasn't so hot. but that's okay. I worked. Went to Derek's concert (AWESOME!) and dinner with the fam (very cool!) got nasty letters in the mail from my financial institution, and now am throwing up my hands and the rest of my cash in complete surrender.

Looking forward to Friday night and next week. Really have no clue how i'm getting those all-important pumpkins now :(  maybe i'll find a way... Friday might be a stay-in night also due to Mr. Moneybags at the bank.

Besides all that, NaNoWriMo is coming up and I can't wait to get started. Got some good ideas floating around in my head and an intense need to flesh them out.

Was also inspired by Derek's concert tonight, so I'm looking for a way to incorporate that into a story. Hooray orchestra!

Also: FACEBOOK SUCKS. just sayin'. Why? oh, because it won't load. at all. stupid. :p

Yes I'm excited. Yes there is frustration. Yes I wish things were more on track. But what else can I do? I only have so much power. Interesting isn't it? I just realized that last sentence was made up of words that all started with the letter "I". That is potentially more interesting than the former. HA.

#6--Gah

It's one in the a.m. and I haven't written a word. I said I would but I have not. I feel bad for this. There are lots of things on my mind lately.

Tomorrow should be better for writing. I have several ideas in general I'd like to share, and I'm itching to continue on with Angela. I fear some of it sounds juvenile though. And before you peg it as a dimestore-romance, let me finish it.

No hard feelings, just a statement for you to consider.

More tomorrow.

I hope.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Angela (V)

Officer Jackson made the final turn into the Sheridan County police station and thought about the girl in the backseat. She was pretty but she seemed awkward for a woman of twenty-nine. He thought she should have figured some things out by now, like how to defend herself against an intruder.

Maybe not everyone knows how to use a knife, he thought silently. Then again, violence wasn't always the best approach. Yet he had found Angela hiding under a bed behind a closed door. For a house that small, she wouldn't have been hard to find if someone had really wanted to.

Dwayne's thoughts shifted gears for a moment while he put the cruiser in park and killed the engine. He looked in the rearview mirror at Angela, her cheeks pink with the events of the day. Her hair was slightly mussed, giving her an I-just-woke-up-and-you-surprised-me look. Which he deemed rather appropriate for her situation. He smiled to himself, but she caught it when she looked at up.

"So, Officer..." Angela started slowly, lending a drop of sarcasm to her voice. "Are we getting out of the car while it's still daytime, or are we waiting on a spectacular sunset?" She followed the comment with a sly grin and a flutter of eyelids. Officer Jackson didn't say anything. Removing himself from the vehicle, he opened the door for her and held out an assisting hand.

"What, I can't stand up by myself?" Angela gave another small grin, stepping into a small pockmark in the parking lot. She keeled to the left and Officer Jackson barely caught her before she hit the ground.

"Apparently you have a hard time standing up in those shoes." He smiled back but she remained straight-faced. Angela's gaze slammed into him, leaving him speechless and gawking. Her cheeks seemed to be a deeper red than before. Still she said nothing, not even a thank you. Dwayne dropped his smile faster than Angela had fallen. He helped her achieve stability in her shoes and shut the cruiser door behind her.

"If you'll follow me, we'll get all the paperwork done and out of the way." He turned and walked into the station. Angela followed slowly, being cautious not to trip on anymore miniature craters. She wanted to say something, to break the silence and to see his striking smile again, but she didn't want to create any more tension than she already had. He's probably married already anyway, Angela thought to herself, frowning.

Inside the station Officer Jackson was greeted by a pretty brunette in a pencil skirt and silk blouse. Angela was too far behind to hear what her name was, but her silver name tag said "Jackson" in bold lettering.

So this must be his wife. Operating in the same field. Figures. Angela breezed by the woman and didn't give her a second glance, even though she greeted Angela all the same. Angela was too focused on making sure that she didn't lose sight of Officer Jackson. He had passed through a security zone and Angela followed suit, but they made her go through twice because she set off the alarm. She removed her shoes and tried again, only to be beeped at a third time. Officer Jackson waited as another officer checked her with his little baton, and allowed her to pass. Angela reclaimed her shoes and began to put them back on but was left behind by Officer Jackson.

"Can you wait for me? I don't know where you're going." She felt foolish asking him to wait for her, but he never stopped walking.

"You can wait here while I get someone to help with your hands and some generic paperwork."

The same officer that cleared her through security showed her a short row of hard plastic chairs off to one side of the hallway. Angela sat and finished putting on her shoes. She was confused by what had happened this morning; she was trapped and he saved her, treated her like a lady. Now that they were at the station he was cold towards her.

Maybe he doesn't want to arouse suspicion about how he really feels... Maybe he's hiding it from his wife. She sure didn't get a big smile from him when we walked in. Angela began losing herself in her thoughts, forgetting that she was waiting for Officer Jackson to bring her paperwork. Her hands stung a little but she was too tired to notice. She started drifting to sleep when she was snapped awake by the same woman she saw when she came in the station.

"Hi. I'm Miss Jackson, but you can call me Darla. I'm told your hands could use some bandaging." Darla smiled at Angela and held out a hand to receive one of hers. "I'll be gentle. I promise."

Angela didn't know what to say, so she held out her hands. Darla had brought a kit with her to help bandage them up.

"Oh, that's quite a lot of blood there. Let's get your hands washed before I do anything else."

"There are lots of splinters in my hands. I can feel them. I don't think washing them would be the best idea." Angela withdrew her hands from Darla's, but Darla was ready.

"That's fine dear. We'll just pour some peroxide to see where the bubbles happen. Then we can dig out those splinters and disinfect at the same time. Shall we?" Darla held out her hand again, this time as if to help Angela stand.

"I suppose." Angela got up and followed Darla to the bathroom for the peroxide treatment.


**

While Angela and Darla were working on clearing her hands of splinters, Officer Jackson was having a conversation with the Chief of Police, Charles Dixon. They briefly discussed the events of the morning, and had begun filing a report of the incident.

"I have a feeling that Miss Murray may not realize that today is not the twenty-first of April. She seemed reluctant to answer that question when I asked. Should we do a psych test?" Officer Jackson copied the information from his little notepad onto the official report form. His scribbles were hardly legible, but it didn't really matter for a case like this where the victim was still alive and in no obvious sort of danger.

"I'll see what Phyllis thinks about her when she's done having her hands fixed, but I don't think we would need to do a full evaluation just because she got the date mixed up. The twenty-first was only two days ago." The chief pulled a long drag from his cigar and leaned back in his chair. His Elvis-style combover was heavily grayed, but he didn't care. His wife would beg him to use Rogaine but he didn't see the point.

"Sounds fine with me. Should I follow up on her since she'll be out at that house alone?"

"That depends. How long does she intend to stay up there?" Chief Dixon leaned forward, stubbing out his cigar and placing it in the right hand drawer of his desk.

"We did not discuss her intentions of her stay, or her intentions for the house." Dwayne paused. "Now that I think of it, we didn't discuss much of anything. She was pretty quiet the whole drive down."

"Huh. I saw her walk in on the camera. She doesn't seem like the kinda gal to just 'not talk.' What's she playing at I wonder?" He squinted his eyes at the camera that showed the bathroom doors. He waited for a few moments and then shook his head as if to rid himself of a fly. "Maybe I'll order that psych eval after all."

While Chief Dixon dialed Phyllis, Officer Jackson was thinking about Angela's golden hair, flipped out a little at the bottom. She seemed harmless. But he knew better than to take anything at face value. With a flip of his hand he excused himself from the chief's office and headed back down the hall. He knocked lightly on the door of the women's bathroom.

"Darla? Miss Murray? How's it going with the splinters?"

"Really, you can't let a lady do her business alone can you?" Officer Jackson jumped back from the door when Darla opened it with her exclamation. Darla laughed, and he saw a brief smile creep across Angela's face. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed like maybe that smile was meant only for him to see.

"You have to stop jumping out at me like that Darla. You're going to get me in trouble. A poor helpless guy like me can't take a strained heart." Darla laughed again and dismissed the comment. Angela looked confused.

"Well, regardless of the condition of your heart, you should be glad to know that we got all the splinters out of Angie's hands. She's all taped up and good to go."Darla turned her smile to Angela, who grimaced back. Angela muttered a small "Thank you," and stepped around Darla.

"Thanks Darla. I appreciate your help." Officer Jackson sent her a wink, then looked toward Angela. Her pretty smile was completely disappeared now. She crossed her arms against her chest and looked down the hall, towards the chief's office.

"Miss Murray, why don't we fill out this paperwork, then we'll be done with all this official stuff."

"Great. Let's get out of here." Her words were quietly sharp, as if to soften the blow. It didn't really work. Maybe I shouldn't be so snappy, she thought to herself. But it doesn't matter anyway, he's standing here joking around with his wife in front of me. Gross.


Angela followed Officer Jackson to a small conference-like room for the paperwork forms. He handed her a pen and passed her some papers.

"I thought this room would be a little more comfortable than an actual interrogation room. Have a seat." He closed the door behind her as she entered, and she sat in one of the many office chairs around an oblong mahogany table. She wondered what this room was typically used for, when people weren't filling out paperwork.

"I'm glad we get to be alone for this part." Angela said absentmindedly, flipping through the papers for a good starting point. She looked up at Officer Jackson, but he was staring at the window. She looked back down at the papers. Full name: Angela Emmaline Murray. This was going to be a piece of cake.

Angela filled boxes in silence for a few moments before Officer Jackson started asking about the house that used to belong to her uncle.

"So what were you doing up there in that old house anyway?"

"Oh, um. That's my uncle's house. Or it was, anyway." Angela fluttered her eyelids but didn't look up at the handsome cop. Her lip quivered slightly and when she next spoke her voice was softer, more vulnerable. "He just died last week."

"I am sorry to hear that." Officer Jackson replied. Angela put down her pen a little more dramatically than necessary and covered her face with her hands. She heaved a fake sigh and peeked at the officer through her fingers.

"Shh. It will be alright. He's in a better place now." Dwayne reached across the table and pulled her hands away from her face. He held them gently in his own, marveling at the redness in her cheeks and across her freckle-flecked nose.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He said this softly, still holding her hands in his. Dwayne reached down the table and passed her the box of Kleenex. "Let's finish this paperwork, then I'll help you find some dinner."

"Okay." Angela said this meekly, dabbing at her imaginary tears with one of the offered Kleenex. She looked up to find Dwayne looking at her dead-on. Angela held the eye contact, and with a deep breath asked, "Do I have to go back to that house tonight?" She stuck out her lip and fluttered her eyes, catching imaginary tears with the Kleenex again.

"Oh, of course not. We'll get you set up with a nice room at the bed and breakfast. I think that would do you some good."

"Thank you," Angela said. "I really appreciate it." She fluttered her eyes again.

Officer Dwayne Jackson smiled gently in response.

"This paperwork can wait until tomorrow. You've had a long day. Why don't we get some dinner?"

Angela's eyes lit up like the night sky over North Dakota.

"I would love that." Her smile was the most sincere he'd seen so far.

They walked back out to the cruiser and he escorted her to the front seat this time. He held the door open for her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she got in, flashing another dazzling smile his way.

She's so beautiful, he thought to himself. This is going to be difficult.


(2,156 words)