About Me

I'm creamy and flavorful. I go well with raspberries. I plan to keep getting more delightful with age, so stick around! I like to travel, both physically and in my own head. I buy a lot of books just because I like the way they look and smell. If "old paper" was a glade scent, I'd plug them in all over my house. Ummm... I can lick my elbow. If you're reading this, you've probably already had the pleasure of witnessing it. Also, I love dishwashers.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Getting back into the saddle. (Not literally.)

This will be my first blog post in over a year... I think. Certainly since Randy and I got engaged last March. I can't believe it's been that long! I have been a wife for over 7 months now.  Between trying to be a homemaker, teaching two subjects, producing a yearbook, running the kids program at Wings, and working afternoons at the CPA office, I don't often find the time to write. I have, however, found a new interest in things I wrote many years ago. 

Several weeks ago, I was running errands for the CPA office with my ipod on shuffle, when a song came on that reminded me of the novel I started as a teenager. I began to think about my characters, and I realized how much I miss them. Unfortunately, I didn't miss the main character. I missed his brother, and his brother's friends, but I didn't miss him. I think that's very telling of why I gave up on the book in first place. I have decided to try to fix that. If I can make Asher less whiny and give him a sense of humor, we'll be making progress again.

I also miss the two other novels I started and gave up on. As we all know, I'm a starter, not a finisher. Besides, I have too many student pieces to read most of the time to even think about working on my own. Still, it's fun to pick up old pieces and play with them, if only to see how far I've come - as a writer and a human being. 

Here is a nice, upbeat poem I wrote my sophomore year of college. Ah, to be 19 and angry again. So dramatic... Enjoy this glimpse into one of the darker chapters of my history.

July 28th
I remember. Memories like howling winds
Tell me I don’t deserve sleep.
Coffee and cake in the middle of the night;
Watching The X-files from a hospital bed;
Paper-thin joy and threadbare hope.
All worthless to me now.
Batteries die, and in the silence I hear
White jackets telling me, “It’s not a life.”
I whispered, “Forgive me,” pulled the plug on my heart.
Still, it beats.
I traded the love I couldn’t live without
for a rose and a card left under a tree.
I murdered my faith on July 28th,
Laid it to rest - but not in peace - beside the best part of me.

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