Phew

Our novel has been resubmitted to our editor. Phew! Now it's time for a well-deserved breather.

I'm not exactly sure what will happen now. Our editor plans to go through and make another round of suggestions. How in depth they will be, remains to be seen. Our editor says he still believes a December release is possible, so we'll see what happens!

Sam and I have been working on getting a new blog up, in lieu of a full website, which we will have eventually. I'm hoping to see our new blog go up in the next couple of weeks. It's time to start developing our real web-presence as authors. WEIRD to think about. It's a new level of exposure and professionalism that we are just now approaching.

In the meantime, I'm busy teaching, and brainstorming for NaNoWriMo. I'm looking forward to a super-busy November! =)

Burned. Out.

Hi.

Haven't seen you for awhile.

I don't really understand why, but blogging has sort of fallen by the wayside over the past few months. It doesn't really take that much time to write a blog, yet it keeps feeling like more time than I have.

In life news, as you've probably heard, the book that Sam and I have written is being published, by a small independent publisher called Inquisitive Books. It's exciting! And a LOT more work than I anticipated.

I'm burned out.

You have to understand, I've been working on the same story for over a year. I was looking through my notebook yesterday, and we started writing this book last July. That's not even counting all the brainstorming and worldbuilding and everything that came before. Granted, we've taken breaks from it. But there have been no other books in the meantime. I've been working on the same characters, the same plot, in the same world, for 16+ months.

For me, that's an eternity.

I'm tired. I'm tired about thinking and rethinking the same plotlines, the same characters. The revisions that we've done are good, they have improved the story. But I'm tired. I'm three-quarters the way through revisions, and I'm done. I've had it. I'm ready to hand it over to our editor and call it quits. I'm going to tell him so, and see what he says!

Originally I'd planned to write Book 2 for NaNoWriMo this year. But there's no way. I need a break. First of all, I'd do a really sloppy job with it, and probably end up scrapping most of it anyway. We're not prepared for it in the least. And I'm just tired of the whole thing. I need a break, I need to work on something light and fun so I can refresh before coming back to this story.

This book is supposed to be released late this year. All along I've thought that was optimistic, and it seems further away every day. I'm losing my grip. I really do believe that some space, a break, would help rejuvenate me so I could finish the revisions strong. But I don't know if I have that luxury!

Urg.

I like to be chill.

There is so much drama in the world, in my life. So little of it has anything to do with me. Drama surrounds me like a haze. I guess I experience drama vicariously through others. Roommates. Friends. Coworkers. My mother. (Love you Mom!) I guess I have my own share of drama. But I imagine myself (my own construct) to be pretty low-key in this regard. I may be crazy-crazy-busy, but despite this, I still have a low modicum of drama. In proportion to the aforementioned people in my life.

I think I like it better this way.




PS: The title of this blog has nothing to do with temperature. I'm finding this winter that I am cold ALL THE TIME and it's driving me crazy. I'm becoming like Whitnee, which is NOT exciting. Grady says I'm a wuss. He's probably right. But regardless, I do NOT like to be cold.

Liberal Arts Background Statement

From the MSW application:

LIBERAL ARTS BACKGROUND STATEMENT
Please submit a liberal arts background statement, between two to three double-spaced typewritten pages thatdescribes the liberal arts coursework completed in undergraduate and graduate study and how these coursesprovided the following: 1) An appreciation of how culture is expressed in literature, humanities, writing, languages, history, philosophy, mathematics and science; 2) An understanding of the diversity of individuals andcultures including the bio-psychosocial forces that influence human growth and development; 3) A commitment to enhance human rights and social justice; 4) an understanding of the diversity and interrelatedness of local, state, national,and global social problems; and 5) an understanding and appreciation of the importance of scientific inquiry and critical hinking.

What is it about this that intimidates me so? [this explains what they want you to address in the statement--at length.] Besides deciding on one more reference person, this is the last thing I have to do for my grad school application. I still have time...but I could be telling myself that right up until the deadline. I need to get this taken care of, but I keep putting it off.

In all seriousness, if you have some advice on how to address this, please tell me. I'm really struggling with this one.

Good News Bad News extensive version

The good news...

• My crazy financial situation for Taekwondo has been resolved to everyone's satisfaction. No more stressing about THAT.
• I'm going to assist in a new tkd class today--advanced childrens. Should be fun!
• I now have 3/4 reference people for my grad school application.
• My black belt report is done, turned in, signed sealed delivered.
• This weekend should be really fun--roller skating date, and lazer tag with my ward, and more. I'm excited.
• I will be competing in a tournament in October, and I'm stoked. I haven't competed since August 2006. Should be an adventure!
• My flights for PA are purchased--I'll be flying into Philadelphia, a city of my heart. I can't wait!
• I've been WRITING for the first time in WEEKS. Writing makes me happy. So do my random characters, who are never what I expect them to be.

The bad news...

• My shoulder still really hurts. It's been like two and a half weeks now. Grr...
• I'm going to assist in a new tkd class today...and every Wednesday...and I'm starting to feel the pinch of NO free time AT ALL. Not sure I had that hour to give...
• I still need to decide on 1 last person to send a reference letter for my grad school application.
• I STILL need to write my Liberal Arts statement for my grad school application.
• I'm reaching a point of burn-out that I need to address before I explode...but I can't find the time!
• My parents are in Washington for at least a week, and I will miss them. *sigh*

Check out the Domestic Dork for more bloggy goodness!

I love my parents

Last night, I went to my parents house for the specific purpose of enlisting my mother to help me reconcile my checkbook. I think that it's a sign of her motherly love for me, because seriously, my checkbook was a disaster.

Then I helped my daddy with his resume. It's so weird to be helping my father in this way--kind of a role reversal. But it was fun, and hopefully the changes I encouraged will be of use as he continues the job hunt. (Incidentally...I HATE job hunting. Haven't we discussed this before?)

Afterward we just sat around talking for awhile. Mostly about all the crap in my life that stresses me out. I'm grateful to have them, that they just listened, oftered their advice without judgment, and then helped me move forward.

Oh, and we have fresh peaches and cream. Mmm.

Seriously folks. I have the best parents on the face of the planet. I'm just sayin'. Although, I hope my mom does okay by herself getting her hair cut. Her first new style in like...20 years. Good luck mama!

Focused on the goal

This weekend, July 31-August 1, is the Families Supporting Adoption national conference.

I have been working on this conference for over four months. I got asked if I wanted to "be involved" and "help out" (such innocent terms), which quickly involved into a full-fledged planning committee, of which I quickly became a co-chair.

Last year was the first time birth parents were invited to attend the conference. There were a total of six classes offered for birth parents, only on the second day of the conference.

Our planning committee (which didn't exist last year either) quickly decided that this wasn't nearly enough. As we brainstormed ideas for sessions and presenters, we quickly expanded to fill both days of the conference. We more than doubled the size of the birth parent portion (which is still barely a fifth the size of the adoptive-couple side).

All of our hard work and time has come down to the wire. The conference starts Friday morning. Of course there will be hiccups, as there have been constantly over the past weeks. But I am so excited.

This conference represents the culmination of my passions. Firstly, I love adoption, I advocate adoption, and I love talking to people about adoption. And this is two whole days of talking about adoption. Secondly, I love organizing things. This conference has let me off the leash, and I have been able to organize and facilitate and detail-out to my heart's content. It's the utmost use of my stage management and administrative abilities.

It's going to be awesome.
It's going to be inspiring. (except maybe for MY presentations!)
It's going to be the adoption event of the year.

And I can't wait for it to be over. :P

House ownership part II: House hunting

Tonight was my first experience in house hunting. And I will tell you now that this is likely to be a long and drawn out process.

We looked at two houses, and in just those two houses I came to the realization that houses are quirky and that house owners are quirkier. I actually really liked the first house. There are a lot of things that would need to change, but most of them are small. A fresh coat of neutral-colored paint would do wonders for--I kid you not--every room in the house. Maybe not the kitchen. The kitchen and other main rooms were by far my favorite part. LOVED them. Big, open and spacious rooms. The bedrooms were also large, though two of them were kind of awkward, and we weren't really sure whether they were originally meant to be bedrooms. But they were big!

The biggest problem in the house were the bathrooms. There were two, and they were very dated. Who decorates in pink? I mean really. And there were some "special" things that, in perhaps ten years and with lots of money, I would be able to fix.

But overall, I really liked that house. LOVED the main rooms. I really like the location, I like the yard, I like the three-car garage, I like the patio and the covered deck and porch, and I'm enchanted by the mailbox.

The second house was not so exciting. First of all, it was about three steps away from my parents house. I love them, but I don't want to spend the next x-# of years in their backyard. Need a little breathing space, if you know what I mean. (Just a couple of blocks, really, I'm not too picky.) It was a big house, but there were a lot of weird things. Weird decor, weird carpet, weird cabinet handles, really weird yard fixtures, and the bathrooms were all really small. AND...the basement was unfinished. PUH-LEAZE I don't need that kind of headache right now. So, drove away from that house with a No, thank you!

On a related note, I filled out loan paperwork tonight, and THAT was an adventure. I feel so inadequate! My dad reassures me that the bank LIKES boring, they want to see that I pay my bills (which I do), but I looked at my pitiful list of assets and my meager income and I thought, "they're going to think this is a joke". But off it goes to the bank tomorrow, to see what I can get pre-approved for. And then we go from there.

In the meantime, I want to look at more houses. I'm in no hurry, certainly, and looking at more places will give me a better idea of what I'm looking for. But I'll tell you--I'm sitting in a mixture of utterly freaked out and terrified, and hopelessly excited. I had a dream last night about having my whole singles ward in my house for a house warming party, so I take that as a good sign. =)

The Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award

For details, see www.amazon.com/abna or www.createspace.com/abna

Basically, it's a contest for unpublished novels. I decided as of this morning that I am going to enter. The entrance period starts Monday at 12:00am, and goes for a week or until they get 10,000 entries, whichever comes first.

I will be honest when I say that I have always been terrified of submitting my work. Part of the purpose of this blog has actually been to encourage myself to talk about my writing. You see, there are literally thousands--perhaps millions--of people who consider themselves to be "writers". And many if not most of them are absolutely terrible. A lot of time its a maturity thing: they just don't have a maturity of themselves or of their writing style. I've been there. And I have always feared being considered part of that group--the nerds, the socially awkwards, the people you look away from and roll your eyes behind their back.

So talking about my work to other people has always been a challenge for me, entirely besides the fact that I--like anyone else--fear rejection, particularly over something I invest myself so fully in. A novel is like a baby, flesh and blood and soul.

To submit writing is equally challenging. I never feel like its ready, like its good enough. There is always more polishing to be done, always more revisions that could make it better.

When I heard about this contest, though, it struck a note with me. It's nervewracking--I mean, how do you make your novel stand out against 10,000 others?! There are so many factors working against me and my work, so many things that are not in my favor, so many things left unfinished, unpolished.

But finally, I took a step back and said, What the heck?

Today I have been stressing over a cover letter/pitch. Basically, I have to sell my book and myself in 300 words or less. I would like to thank the dozen or more people who read said pitch over the course of the afternoon, as well as the handful that took a gander at my Author Bio. Let me tell you--there is nothing more challenging than talking about yourself in the third person without sounding like an absolute prig. Guh!

Over the course of the weekend I shall be making some last minute revisions as well as solidifying my submission package. It's a challenge, but I'm just going to give it a go and see what happens. Wish me luck!

The Value of Hard Work

Today is Friday. Normally I am a great lover of Fridays. There's just something about them that makes them seem infinitely brighter than the rest of the week. Maybe it's the imminent freedom of the approaching weekend. Or maybe the sun just shines more on Fridays (not that it seems that way on this rainy day!!) Today's Friday seems particularly bright, however, because I am pretending the roadshow does not exist. That's right. Today there is no roadshow. It will come back tomorrow in full force, but for today I am blissfully ignoring its existence.

What I really wanted to write about today is the somewhat abstract concept of hard work. It's been on my mind as I watch people and society around me. Our society has grown remarkably lazy, as no one will hesitate to point out. People (I use the term in its most vague and general terms) seem to expect rewards to simply be handed to them. Jobs. Diplomas. Money. I see this at work a lot--people who call in wanting refunds, because times are hard, and expecting to get money just for the asking. Well, friends--times are hard for us, too.

Hard work is not a concept I have appreciated in every part of my life. I have had my lazier periods--still do, in fact. There are a lot of nasty or difficult tasks that come through a persons' life.

However, I am coming to appreciate just how beautiful and important hard work really is.

There are plenty of platitudes out there about hard work; I will try to spare you. But with utmost sincerity I can tell you that when you really work for something, when you work so hard you think you'll explode with the stress of it, when you've given everything you have and still you are asked to give more...well, I believe that's when you really find the value in it, whether it's a job, education or church, a relationship or a friendship. Putting in the effort gives these things value.

I look at my college experience, particularly in the theatre. My last show there, Henry V, was immensely challenging. It required hours upon hours of effort, and every last drop of ingenuity I had. I gave it my all, everything and more that I had to give. There were other shows like that too, but Henry V truly stands out as the crowning jewel of my experience there. I loved that show. And it's because I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to be happy, working as hard as I was. And amazingly enough, it worked.

I look now at my singles' ward experience. Through college, I never had a ward that I really cared about. I always wanted cool callings, and was regularly disappointed by the things I was asked to do. My efforts therefore were lackluster--I went to church, I played the piano in Sacrament meeting or whatever my calling was, but that was the extent of my efforts. But my current ward...I went in with the desire and intention to challenge myself. I asked for a challenging calling--not a glory-filled one like I had always imagined that I 'deserved', but something that would stretch me and my skills, something that would take effort and preparation. I was called as a gospel doctrine teacher. Since that calling, nearly everyone I have told of it has sympathized, bemoaned my fate. And yet...I don't find myself complaining. It's difficult. It's a lot of work. It scares the crap out of me every single time. But...I wouldn't give it up for the world.

I look at this roadshow. I have been commended for taking it on, but honestly, I didn't think about it twice when I was asked. And it has been so rewarding--challenging, certainly. Frustrating at times. Chaotic and maddening. But I've gotten to know more people, I've gotten to write and direct, to teach a little and to enjoy these wonderful people who have sacrificed of their time to participate. Throughout the entire experience, I have not begrudged the work and the time and the effort, because it is so worth it!

I don't mean to be self-righteous, and I don't mean to preach. This is more a self-exploration of these things anyhow--realizing that when I have given of my efforts as selflessly as possible, I have enjoyed the experience more. I want to explore the things that I have realized are important.

My point here is that the joys of hard work apply everywhere, to everything. Nothing in this life is going to be easy, and if it is you're probably doing it wrong. The Gospel of Jesus Christ was not meant to be easy--we have to work for it, every moment of every day we have to restore our faith and our desire to follow the direction we have been given. Our daily life was not meant to be easy--we should find ways to challenge ourselves, to force ourselves to grow and improve. Whether its through work or hobbies or friendships, we will be happier if we are active and involved and seeking to challenge ourselves. And when the trials come--hardships through family or finances, through personal challenges or deep questions, my response to you is the same: just keep trying, and have faith. The same goes for relationships, whether with spouses or siblings or children or aunts or cousins or friends, close or the barest acquaintence. Relationships are not easy. They take work, hard and something grueling effort, whether to overcome anger or to overcome apathy, to fight the little annoyances, or to win their heart each and every day. Nothing worthwhile is easy, and if you stop working to keep the things that are important to you, you will lose them, more often than not simply through your own indifference.

Healthy terror: a possible career move

On Tuesday night I went to a 'write-in' (a less productive variant of a write-a-thon) hosted by the local chapter of NaNoWriMo. I will admit that a big part of the draw was the attendance of local celebrity author Brandon Sanderson, author of Elantris and the Mistborn trilogy. He spoke for about an hour and a half, about writing and publishing and the like. It was informative to a certain degree, and far more entertaining and honest than similar talks/discussions I've attended previously. In particular, Brandon shed light on the possibility of authorship as a career. Before in my mind, it's always been a hobby at which you can make no money whatsoever, or a one-in-a-thousand chance of making it big and making the big bucks. All luck, and not a realistic career path. But B.Sanderson shed light on the actual numbers: selling a book every 1-2 years, a person can, in fact, make a decent living as a writer. And that's just if a book does moderately well--selling 10,000 copies. More than that, and you're making a more-than-modest living.

This makes me come to a full-brakes-stop, with whiplash and everything. This is real. Writing as a career, a possibility. One that I had wished for, but never truly considered as something practical.

I looked around the room several times that evening, and later when the writing started. Most of the people there aren't people I would consider as having potential for real success in this field. That may be exceptionally judgmental of me, I'll admit, as I was basing this judgment almost entirely upon social interaction and discussion of their work, not actual text, which is the important thing in this field. But I looked around, and I wondered if I was any better than anyone in the room, let alone the world, if I could possibly possess some skill or idea that would surpass what all these others might have to offer.

I doubt it. After all, ideas are cheap. Skill is a little harder to come by, but there are plenty of people in the world who can write better than I can, who can stick to an idea and concept better than I can, who are more creative and original than I am. No doubt.

However, maybe I will have something that they won't? The right idea, at the right time and seen by the right eyes in the right place?

Basically, this means that for the first time in over four years (and another five before that!) I'm going to start submitting manuscripts to publishers and agents. I have to tell you that this is about the most terrifying thing in my existence. Every time I freak out (which is almost every time I think about it), I just have to repeat to myself, "What's the worst they can do? Send me a rejection letter--again and again." Sounds bad, but in all reality, that letter is better than no letter at all, because it means that somebody besides me has looked at my words. That is definitely better than nothing.

If I seem a little wild around the eyes when you see me, this may be why. Or it might be some other part of my insanity. With me, you never know.

Adulthood strikes again!!! (I apologize for rambling to follow)

I may just be buying a new car. Ah!
It's a Honda CR-V, 2004, red, AND it's a stickshift. :)

So, I've been wanting to buy a new car for several months now, but I've waited, making sure it was really something I wanted, and to save up some money so I could put a good chunk down. Originally, I had an eye on small pickups--Toyota Tacoma, especially, the smaller ones--mostly because I wanted to sit up higher. (Right now, I'm in a '94 Geo Prizm, which is about as low to the ground as you can get.) I want a bigger car, something I can sit up higher in.

I was drawn to the pickups because I thought they would get better gas mileage than the bigger SUVs, etc. However, upon doing the research, it turns out that pickups are quite the gas guzzlers. Many SUVs, particularly the smaller ones, actually get better gas mileage, as good as many sedans. And so I was drawn to the SUVs.

And actually, these turned out to be more of what I wanted anyway--they're big enough that I can haul my stuff in (and I tend to do a lot of hauling of my stuff) and yet I can still haul my peeps, too, which I can't do in a little pickup truck. However, I immediately knew that if I was going for an SUV, I would want a smaller one--pretty much as small as they come.

Let me explain: I don't really like big cars. My parents have had a minivan my entire life, and I HATE minivans. They're ugly, first off, and they just feel huge when you drive them. They're awkward to drive, to park, to u-turn, et cetera and so forth. I find that suburbans and large SUVs feel much the same, and that is not at all what I wanted.

And so it all came down to the test drive. I felt like a smaller SUV was what I wanted, but I needed to do some test driving to make sure. After consulting the web and the Consumer Reports, I narrowed down, basically to two vehicles, the Toyota RAV4 and the Honda CR-V. I was willing to look at others, but those were the two I had my eye on. Also, I had decided that I wanted a 2004, or possibly 05. I like the body style better. The younger versions, in both vehicles, tended to look more like extended hatchbacks, which is a look I don't much like. Besides which, the 2004s were starting to get more toward my price range. :)

The first car I drove today was a 2004 Honda CR-V, and I loved it immediately. It just felt right--I liked the size of it, I liked how it drove, I liked the feel of it--except that it was an automatic. TANGENT TIME!

I love driving manual transmission. I love my stickshift. My car now is a stick, and I love it. I learned to drive in that car, and if I can help it, I'll never have an automatic. This spurred my desire to get a slightly older vehicle--the Toyota stopped making standards after 2005, and the Honda, I believe, after 2006, which is lame. All of the cars I drove today except the one was an automatic, and I won't like that this particular vehicle draws me because it's a standard. Anyway--onward.

After the first one, I drove a Toyota Camry, and didn't much like it. Entirely besides the fact that I'm ready for something different, the Camry just felt boxy. I'm really too short for that car.

We looked at a couple more places, didn't really see anything interesting, so we then drove down to the Brent Brown Toyota dealership on University Parkway. There, I drove a 2007 Toyota RAV4. It was a nice vehicle, quite similar to the CRV, but it felt a little bigger (just a hair), and I didn't quite like the feel of it as much as the CRV. They were very minor differences, really. But that was the only one they had on the lot, and there's no way I could have afforded the '07.

TANGENT TIME AGAIN. Car salesman always focus on the payments and the financing, overlooking the sticker price. They want you to drive away today, and they're willing to do anything to get the payment you can afford. I say this all with great sarcasm--I'm at a point where I don't really care what the monthly payment is, I fully intend to pay the car off as quickly as possible, which means I want to know the ACTUAL COST of the vehicle. It drove me nuts to be constantly asked what kind of payment I wanted to make. I don't care! I just want to get a good deal on the car!

Anyhow, so after that, we decided to drive to the Honda dealership up the street. And there, sitting in the parking lot, was a little red, 2004 CR-V. AND it was a stickshift. The test drive was lovely, it just felt so good to have a stickshift. I don't know why it makes such a difference to me, but it really does. It became one of my major qualifiers for my vehicle purchase.

And then the games began. We went in to just take a look at the financing. Right. The first salesmen we worked with just wasn't being very flexible. He was holding at 13,995, which was a pretty steep price for this vehicle, which has some scratches and cosmetic defects, as well as 70,000 miles. The first CR-V we'd tested was at 13,500 with only 58,000 miles. But this first guy just wasn't budging on that, he kept going on about the certification/warranty on the car, blah blah blah, and we were pretty much ready to walk out. My personal limit walking in was 12 grand--I wasn't willing to pay anything more than that, because I felt like that was what I could afford.

This morning when we were leaving, I had privately wished to myself that I could have my Uncle Frank there when it came down to this part--he's a car salesman and knows his shit, as opposed to my parents and I. I mean, we tried to play the game, but we just don't have it in us. But of all the kismet things to happen, he was down for the BYU football game, and was five minutes down the street. I asked him to come by, and he did to take a look at the car.

That was when things got interesting. We all trooped back outside to look at the car. Uncle Frank was very leery of the cosmetic damage. We knew from the CarFax that the car had been in an accident, but there weren't any details about the damage or any repairs done. He pointed out all of the flaws, of which he made a great fuss, and got on the phone with "his guy" to find out the auction price of the vehicle, blah blah blah.

At this point, we were joined by the business manager of the dealership. He and Uncle Frank started debating about the actual worth of the car, about the depths of the damage, blahdeblahdeblah. My Aunt Debbie was trying to be supportive, while my parents continued in the conversation with Uncle Frank and the business manager, who obviously wasn't going to give us the car for 9,500, which is what Uncle Frank decided was the highest we should pay.

Finally, the business manager turned back to me--which was the smartest move he made--and asked me what I wanted, seeing as I was the one buying the car. Uncle Frank pulled me aside just as he was leaving and told me not to buy the car, while my Aunt Debbie told me to do what I wanted. Thanks for the support! (and I mean that with absolute sincerity. Without them, I couldn't have gotten the deal I did!)

The BM started rambling off about not being able to give us the car for 9,500, or 10,500 (which was my mother's original offer) because he had to make SOME profit off the car, but that he wished he could meet us somewhere in the middle, because he wanted to earn my business (he used that phrase a lot). At some point, he mentioned 11,500 as more of a middle ground, and at that point I finally jumped back in and asked if 11,500 was something he could do. He told me he'd go find out, and we all trooped back inside.

My poor father kept wanting to get us out of there so the car salesman wouldn't suck us in, but we just kept getting sucked back in! They're very good.

He eventually came back and told me he could in fact give me the car for 11,500. At that point, he had me--we were under my self-set budget of 12,000! But I still hadn't been approved for financing, I hadn't checked on what my insurance would be, blah blah blah. He then offered to let me take the car home for the weekend, to see how I felt about it. Hmm! I asked what I needed to do, and he had to go back to the office for approval. So we hung out for awhile.

THEN he came back and said he didn't get approval for that, BUT! if I would buy the car today, he could give it to me for 11,000! Had to think about it for awhile. I had already decided that I didn't want to buy the car today--I really wanted at least a day or two to think on it, besides checking on the financing and stuff. It was tempting, I'll admit, but I at last told him firmly that I wanted to wait until Monday. He guaranteed me the 11,500 til Monday.

And out we were! I'm still hoping I can get the car for 11,000 on Monday, but I'm still okay with 11,500 if that's what it ends up being. Whew!

Just for kicks, we went and drove a couple more cars, including a Subaru Forester (which was lame and felt like a station wagon), but the longer I considered it, the better and more confident I felt about the car. My Uncle Frank will certainly scorn me, but I'm okay with that. I feel like it's a good car, one that will last me a long time. I like the feel of it, I like sitting up higher, and I like having a bigger car--but one that still gets decent gas mileage (20/26). Also, it's red, the color I wanted, and it's a stickshift. AND we got them down $3000 from the original price! I have my uncle to thank for that one--if he hadn't been there telling me not to buy the car, they never would have budged!

I feel like I'm in a stable place in life. I have a solid down payment, and hopefully I can get at least a thousand out of my current car to put down as well. I feel confident that I can make the monthly payments, and I plan to put down quite a bit more, as well. If I can make the payments according to my plan, I will have the car paid off by the end of next summer, hopefully even earlier than that. I also feel like it will be really good to have this on my credit. It will help me to buy a home at some point in the future, and that is very important.

It's just weird to be doing adult things like buying my own car! But I just feel so good about it. I love the car, I feel like I'm getting a good deal, and I just feel so responsible and mature (as ridiculous as that sounds to say!) It feels so good to do this for myself. My parents helped me, they advised me, but I am doing this for myself. I have picked what I wanted, and I am buying it for myself. And oh goody, I get to pay the increased insurance and gas as well! Adulthood strikes again!!! :D

Insurance and other meddlesome things

Insurance.

Yesterday, I wrote out a check for my year's worth of car insurance. It's gone down considerably, as my youthful speeding tickets have finally been dropped from my record. Still a chunk of money, but I stressed less about it this year than in those past.

However, another fact of life is looming in the near future, as my parents are none too slow to remind me.

My health/dental/vision/etc insurance will disappear in January, as I am no longer in school. I've had the fortune to have a cushion of many months, due to error on part of the insurance company. However, the cushioning is at an end, and come 2009, I am responsible for my own little self.

It raises an issue I'd rather avoid, but cannot. With one (or even two!) part time job(s), I get no health insurance. Right now, I'm working about 25 hours a week. I have been hoping and hoping and wrangling to get more hours, but even if I were to get the max I could possible have, I still would not get benefits, as the school cannot afford to pay them. I have been so hoping that Walden would work out despite all the issues, because I have been enjoying it so much. But it looks like I'm going to have to face reality.

I've been hoping to find a second part time job to bring in more money, but even besides the benefits issue, there are others. The most sad and important of which being that Walden is inconsistent. Much as I love the people there, they are extremely fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants. (I hesitate to use the word flaky no matter how appropriate.) Yesterday I worked a full eight hours. Today I worked five. What is tomorrow, or the next day? How can I get another job, if I can't even guarantee when I get off every day? I'm working a "real" job to find consistency--without that desire, I'd be working in the theatre as my art-soul wishes. I thought maybe I could find balance here, but apparently not.

I love Walden School. Already, I do. But I need to be realistic. I have to be an adult, no matter how much I want to avoid it. I need to save money, and I need to take care of myself. If Walden can't commit to me, I need to go somewhere else. Sad, but true muffins.

Casinos have never been a temptation before now....

I spent this past weekend with my birthfather [Jason], his wife [Jenny], my sisters, and various sundry relatives, at Jenny's family's property somewhat above Strawberry Reservoir. This is the second time I've been up there, the first time I'd met some of the various sundry relatives (although, I'll admit here that I enjoyed these sundry relatives much better than some of the sundry relatives that were there last time. But this is irrelevant...)

Spent the weekend relaxing, fishing (which is still very new to me), chatting, watching movies, reading, and--my personal preference--playing games. I just have this thing about playing games. Any games, board games, card games, whatever. My family doesn't play a whole lot of games, because there just aren't enough of us to play much more than Settlers of Catan, which, admittedly, we enjoy, but still don't play that often. So up at camp, there's a whoooole bunch of us, and games abound. I'm in heaven.

We brought up Pit, which I have discussed before, being one of my all-time favorite group games, following closely behind Apples to Apples. However, I get quite enough of Apples during my PGSA summers, so Pit was definitely high on the list. We also played Phase 10 (not my favorite--I need to get this fambily to play Shanghai), and the Totally Insane Card game. However, at some point (I think it was only yesterday) my sister Danielle asked if we could play poker, as their uncle has a nice poker set he keeps up at camp. So Dad obligingly brought out the set, and proceeded to teach me various versions of poker. I can't even remember all their names. But after several hands of just being confused, I asked about Blackjack. He tried to explain it to me, but I asked D and her bf to play a round with me so I could get it better. And HOURS later, we were still there, playing Blackjack. And we played again after fishing that night. And again this afternoon.... Seriously addicting, and I have no idea why!

On a side note: I don't like teenage boys. I guess I liked them when I was a teenage girl, but no longer. I particularly don't like teenage boys who date my teenage sisters. It may be a bit overprotective of me...or maybe it's just the teenage boy thing. Anywho...

I was also faced with the discouraging fact that my other family all have, to my dismay, thoroughly enjoyed "Breaking Dawn." Now, I admit and will continue to admit, that I need to read the book again in order to really decide how I feel about it. And I'll give that my earlier review was perhaps more negative than really necessary. After all, there were definitely points that I enjoyed. However, I--currently--still stand by my dislike of the book. I found it to be overall disappointing, and was a little discouraged that my sister(s) and Pops did not so far agree.

On an entirely separate note, last week before I left for camping, I gave a rough draft of my novel over to its first readers--two of my very best friends, Sam and Ashley. Now, Sam will gush and tell me how wonderful it was no matter what he thinks of it, and then perhaps give me a tentative review while I try to drag details out of him. This I am prepared for. However, Ashley is an entirely different matter. Ashley is one of the pickiest people I know, particularly when it comes to movies and books. She is incredibly picky about what she likes and doesn't like, and I am INCREDIBLY nervous about her reading my book, especially in the precarious rough-draft stage it is in. But giving it to Sam meant also giving it to Ashley, and I so I just have to hope that she will be sensitive with my baby, just after I have cut the umbilical cord and let someone else's eyes rest upon it the very first time. It's terribly nervewracking!

And now...on to the job hunt!

Direction and purpose

School is cool. Real life sucks.

This evening I was talking to Melissa (my best friend) on the phone. At one point in the conversation, I said something to the effect of, "Melissa, let's go back to school. Where do you want to go?"

This led into a discussion about the virtues of USU in Logan, and we "decided" we would go next year, once her student loans from our first time around are paid off.

I'll tell you what--even the half-kidding declaration of going back to school made me feel better about life.

I've been feeling pretty directionless for some time, since before my December graduation, even. Theatre is something of a dead end for me. Don't get me wrong, I love theatre and I love stage managing, probably more than anything I could ever choose to do, except maybe writing. But (long story short) I crave mental, financial, and spiritual stability, none of which are available with a career in the arts. This summer was so very fulfilling, and if it could go on forever, I would be set for life. But alas.

So now I'm home and facing the rest of my now-empty life and wondering what on earth to do with it. I applied for a half dozen jobs this morning, and will continue to do so, but I consider them "filler" until I can figure out what I really want to do. Going back to school is actually a viable option, as I have and will continue to discuss. Going on a mission is still in my frame of reference. Wailing in frustration is--at least internally--a constant.

No matter what happens, though, I need to find direction and purpose. I can't live without it. I have driven myself for too long--and been going without for too long--to continue this way for much longer. Coming from "Ivona, Princess of Burgundia", we must go onward and upward forever.

Life updates

Yesterday, I taught a stage management master class, which was optional and open to all the students here. I had seven attendees, which I am told is a decent number for this workshop. I taught for about an hour and a half, and we were crunched at the end because I ran into dinner. My students were engaged, they asked questions, they laughed, and I felt like it was a success.

It was a kind of test, for myself. To see how I liked teaching. Granted, I know I can't get a real sample from one small workshop, informal, teaching one subject that is most familiar to me. However, it was, as I said, an experiment. It was surprisingly nervewracking! I wanted to hold their attention, I wanted them to respond, to ask questions, to laugh. And they did, which was swell. But I'm not sure that I really liked it. Teaching, for me? Who knows.

Now I'm knee-deep into theatre rehearsals. This year I'm stage managing the theatre department's "Round 2" performance, a show called "Ivona, Princess of Burgundia". It's an interesting piece, the directors are doing some unique things with it. I'm reserving judgement until it's over, because the process is guarenteed to be...interesting. I'm stepping in a week before the show, to learn it, get to know the cast and directors, then call the show. It's totally unrelated to anything that happens in the real world. (We're getting the set design...today...hopefully. We load in in two days, tech the day after. This is craziness.) So if I utterly disappear for some time, it's not because I'm dead. Well, hopefully. My brain may be leaking out of my ears, but hopefully I'll still be alive.

I have no real thoughts today. It's hot, I'm tired, and I have no down time. I'm currently watching the BBC's Robin Hood again (the second season comes out on DVD next month), I'm halfway through "Eclipse" in preparation for next week's "Breaking Dawn." My hands hurt--one of my fingers has been twitching for several days, and now both hands are starting to ache. If I get carpul tunnel, I'm gonna kill somebody. Oh, and I really want to cut my hair. Like, all of it. But I must perservere in the hopes of growing it out.

That is all. Peace.

strange new grief

I can't even express how agonizing it is to be away from my family right now. My 'niece' Elaina is suffering, and the doctors are reaching the limits of what they can do for her. Her mother is trying to deal with the decisions she will soon be faced--whether or not to take her daughter off the ventilator, whether to stop the suffering. I'm glad that Hollie's parents are there with her, but I wish more than anything that I was there with her too. I feel so helpless. I can't express in words what I want to tell her, not over the phone or over email or blog. I want to hold her, I want to see Elaina, I want to be there with them. I've never felt anything like this before, and I don't know how to deal with it. I've never been incapable of supporting someone before. I've never been devoid of my own comfort when I needed it. This is why families are drawn together at times like this--they need the physical, nonverbal support of one another's presence. Right now, I can't offer or receive any of it.

I'm scared. I'm scared for Elaina, I'm scared for Hollie, and I'm scared for everybody that cares about them both. That includes me.

I wish I was there.

Long week/end: summary, nothing profound

I've spend most of this week up at Primary Children's with my cousin Hollie and her daughter Elaina, who had open-heart surgery on Thursday. Updates at Hollie's blog. It's amazing how stressful waiting can be. I mean, you're just sitting around, or pacing, or both, you're not really doing anything physically taxing, but I'll tell you what, by Thursday night our whole family was exhausted--none less so than little Elaina-bug and her mama.

Hospitals are fascinating places. You would not believe everything that goes on there unless you spend a lot of time there. I've also found that ICUs are way busier than other parts of the hospital--constant action, streams of people coming in and out. Doctors, nurses, therapists, technicians, janitors, social workers--entirely besides patients, parents and visitors. And you would not believe the Sounds! I sat for a few minutes with Elaina and just listened, identifying sounds. I mean, there's monitors watching every bodily function she has. There were bubbling sounds from the chest tubes sucking liquid from her lungs and chest. There's the ventilator pumping, breathing for her. There's people talking, in the rooms and out at the nurses' station. People washing their hands, the automatic towel dispenser nearly giving me a heart attack every time it went off. I mean, this is a hopping place! And Primary's, as I think I've said before, isn't like most hospitals. I mean, for one thing, its full of children, which entirely changes the aspect of the place. But for another, there's a lot more hope there than at other hospitals. Maybe because its children, or maybe its just because its a special place, I don't know. I think it takes special people to work there, and they sure make a difference.


On a different note, today was something of an adventure. My best friend Melissa is turning 22 next week, and because of my job I am going to miss it again this year, so I told her I'd come up this weekend and do whatever she wanted to do. So last night we went to the drive-in movie in Roy (or is it Ogden?). I'd never been to the drive-in before, so I was pretty excited. We took some lawn chairs and a bunch of blankets, and we set up between two cars with their windows down--we had pretty good surround sound! It's always a double feature there, so first we saw Kung Fu Panda--it was funny, but definitely a kids movie. Then we slept through Indiana Jones--but at least I'd seen it before! We didn't get home until after two, but it was fun.

I spent the morning with Melissa and her family, then I headed south. I had lunch with Gregory at a little Frenchie restaurant downtown called Les Madelines. I had a Sesame Chicken Wrap, which was quite delicious, and a pastry dessert that I couldn't even begin to spell or pronounce, but which was nevertheless delicious. And, of course, I had a chance to chat with my Gregums, which was wonderful and well-needed.

Next stop was a brief visit at Primary's--I sat with Elaina for awhile so that Hollie could take a nap. I wish I could have stayed longer! My hope is that Hollie can get some rest tonight, she's wearing herself pretty thin.

Then it was down to T-ville to visit Dixy. We never ended up having our LOST party--we were trying to set up a date that we could watch LOST together, but it didn't happen. I'm just glad I got to see her. We went grocery shopping and picked up some father's day cards, then she had to go to work.

I had been planning to stop over at my birthfather's house for a little while after that, but my sisters were gone and 'step-mom' Jenny is sick, so I ended up driving over to my Pop's work to say hi and give him his card and return "Meet the Robinsons" which I borrowed last week. It was good to see him, I'm glad I went--he would've been mad if I hadn't seen him before leaving for PA. He's way too good to me!

Then it was home to Orem at last--I feel like I haven't been here for days, because of all the time I've spend in SLC this week, so it was good to come home and crash on the couch for awhile. Poor little Ben's really sick--he's been puking on and off all day, even since I've been home. Rough day for the poor guy. But we watched Toy Story 2 together, then it was off to bed.

So, I leave for Pennsylvania on Tuesday. I'm driving out, planning to take three days to get there. It's something over 1800 miles, and the largest chunk comes first--I'll be driving to Kearney, Nebraska on Tuesday, to stay with my uncle there. My aunt--Hollie's mom--will be here helping Hollie and helping take care of Ben. I'm actually pretty excited about the drive, but we'll see how it goes.

A day for gratitude

I spent the day with my cousin Hollie at Primary Children's Hospital in SLC. Hollie's little daughter Elaina had a procedure today--a heart cath--in part to prepare for open heart surgery next week. It was a very stressful day for Hollie, waiting for news, getting only one progress report through the afternoon, and the procedure took a deal longer than it was supposed to. Poor Elaina has a big old bruise on her leg, but otherwise she came through fine, thank God and all those whose prayers have been with this little bug.

Primary Children's is an interesting place--it's bright and cheerful for a hospital, with lots of color, friendly nurses and doctors, and lots of support for families. The hospital reserved Hogle Zoo for the evening, just for the parents and families of children in the hospital. Ben and my parents went while Hollie and I waited for Elaina to get out of the PACU (Post Anesthetic Care Unit). But at the same time, its a hospital for children--a place where children unfortunately suffer. They suffer with the greatest care available, but they suffer there nonetheless.

I think we sometimes take a great deal for granted. Hollie and I talked about this a little bit today. I look at new mothers who walk around with their children, who stand in line at the grocery store with babe-in-arms, and I think of Elaina, who has spent nearly her entire five months of life chained to an oxygen tube and heart monitor, and often lots more than that. Elaina, who's usually on half a dozen medications or more just to keep her alive and as well as she can be. Elaina, who's going in for her second open-heart surgery at five months old. Elaina, who is the most beautiful, patient and good-natured baby ever.

I think sometimes we take a great deal for granted.

Hormones

God must've had a real laugh when he designed the menstrual cycle. Either that, or feeling particularly sadistic.

I've been craving chocolate for two days. Starting on the rag didn't make that go away. I think I ate five chocolate chip cookies this evening. Enough to make me feel slightly sick to my stomach, but not nearly enough to make the craving go away.

I think I was a little short with my nephew tonight. He's five, and his baby sister is in the hospital, which means their mom has been at the hospital with her as much as possible--which means little Ben misses his mom a lot. Which, in his case, means he acts out. He's constantly attention-seeking, which unfortunately means he's almost constantly causing trouble. I love the little bugger, but he frequently drives me crazy, and tonight I was probably a little harsher than I needed to be.

Cramps make it hard for me to concentrate. I wrote about 4000 words today, but I'll need to remember to read it over carefully in a few days--I kept catching my fingers typing things my brain didn't mean--words were missing, or misspelled, or misplaced, or a totally new one took its place without my brain ever thinking it. In fact, if this blog is a little topsy-turvy, you know where to place the blame.

Mood-swings are the worst. Tonight was especially bad. I had a great day--I sat outside all afternoon and wrote wrote wrote, listening to my music, watching my dad work in the yard, and the dog chase birds. She can do that for hours--and did. Great afternoon. Then my mom made cookies, which I proceeded to consume. Then we got to talk to my brother for a few minutes--he's on an LDS mission in Virginia, which means we don't normally get to talk to him on the phone. But he was in a bicycle accident, he got a concussion and possible a fracture in his cheekbone, so he was at the hospital, and his mission president let us talk to him for a few minutes. Ben told him he needed training wheels! lol. After finally getting Ben to bed, my parents and I sat down and watched "Pursuit of Happyness", which is a swell movie. And now, despite this wonderful day, I'm in a bad mood. I couldn't even begin to tell you why, except for one thing:

Hormones.

They are the bane of human existence. For women, because we have to endure them, and for men because they have to live with them. Force of nature, my friend.