A Place of Last Resorts

Now...that sounds a little desperate. But it has a nice ring to it, so I suppose I just had to use it. I'm not too very stressed out, not really. And I'm not sure what I will put here that doesn't just shout out all the boring instances of my life into the stratosphere. But I miss this place. I miss being able to just sit here and think of everything and put it up, hoping that someone sees it and thinks something good of it.

Here I am, knowing that in less than a week I am going to take the SAT for the third time, knowing that it will likely culminate into a panic attack later in that day and that I might not even do any better than I did the last time. But hey, I'm not worried. I already know what's coming, and I know that no matter what, by saturday afternoon I will never, ever have to take that test again. And, hopefully, will never have to go to Jordan high school ever again.

You know....I am very lazy. I am. I work insanely fast, and thus have not cultivated any sort of ability to just sit and work for hours, whether I need to or not. This, this is where I'm feeling it the most. Now that I have to put extra work into my last year of high school, hoping beyond hope that I make a good enough impression to get a scholarship to my college of choice, I am beginning to feel winding. And all I can say is: Thank God.

Thank God for my support group, for my beautiful dog and my wonder boyfriend, for my loyal friends and encouraging teachers. Thank God for my ability to zone into a different time and space when the stress is getting to me--after all, there is nothing like a good story to bring the stress level down. And thank God that He gave me the self-interest to shove this blog into the corner for a year, because if I'd had to worry about it on top of everything else, I would have shot myself.

Not really. But there might have been a little more stress than I could have handled.

Now, as I come back here, I can truly say I have an interest in life. My life, and what I can accomplish in it. What I want, and what I feel called to do. Although admittedly, sometimes those things clash a little. Whatever. No matter how much I struggle, God will easy drag me to where he wants me to go. And that, my friends, is perhaps the one fact that has lead me closer to peace than anything else I have experienced.

Question

So I guess I should write up some sort of a post before I leave for five days. I don't like to say that ten days went by between my posts, even though they basically have and I don't have much to say. But I guess...I owe it to you? I dunno. I started this back when I was thinking of pursuing writing as a career and wanted to dip a toe in the water. Since then, through both the blog and general events in my life, I've realized that that is not the course for me. I'm not supposed to live that way, whatever 'that' way is.

Of course, I'll never stop writing. I just don't want to be pressured. I want to enjoy the process and take as long as I want. I have to like and care about what I'm writing or I won't have the fuel to finish a story. That doesn't work for a career writer.

Not to mention, my lack of muse is about to skyrocket as an endearing eight-week-old puppy enters the household this coming monday. I'll be very tired and very busy, and I already have commitments to friends and other sites. This just isn't a priority for me anymore. Nothing extremely useful, deep, or important goes up here anymore, and I'm not good at writing fluff pieces. I don't enjoy them, at least.

So...yeah. This is my question: Does anyone still read this? Do you care about what I'm saying, or are you reading as a courtesy? Would you be duly devastated if I told you I'm scrapping the blog? I ask because I never get any feedback and I do spend a lot of time of each post, and it's sometimes discouraging when you come back and no one has anything to say to you. Blogs aren't supposed to make you feel that way.

Yup. If you want me to continue this, you'd better comment or Email me or something. Because I like writing, but if no one's reading it I might as well write on my own time, without trying to maintain a site.

To Satisfy

What exactly does that verb mean? To make content? Or is it to fulfill until there is no more room for improvement? Is it to make happy or just to make at peace? Is it merely to quell the distress of the heart? Are you truly satisfying a person if you have to 'keep' them satisfied? If you have to go back every once in awhile, and prove your worth again?

I have heard this verb used in so many ways in the world. Good ways and bad ways. The ability to be satisfied has moved from a virtue to a defect and back so many times that really I tend to stay away from the word altogether. At least, in any original form. Any writer in the room must raise their hand and admit that they have fallen into cliche's from time to time, using weary phrases and techniques as well as developing their own.

Anyway, I only thought of this because I used this particular word in my facebook status only a few minutes ago and...well:

'Good day, then bad day, then worse day, then busy day, then great day, then complicated day, then wonderful day. Funny how the most satisfying days are the ones you can't quite define.'

Obviously, to my deeper self, to satisfy is not strictly to make happy. Today was not a happy day, for the most part. It was filled with disappointment and irrational anger and trying to vent to a friend who had to leave soon (No, I don't blame the friend at all. In fact, I'm thankful that he tried to help during the little time he had.). In all honesty, the only excuse I have for being so out of sorts today is that the entire household has been tense for several weeks now.

This is, I learned quite a lesson today, and not from any particular thing. Just...the entire day. I was so miserable at the beginning, and the end was so helpful and fun and relaxing, showing me that love lasts forever, even if you lose the person you love for a time. Showing me that no matter how hard things seem at first, God always has something wonderful coming for you at the end of it. That he does have a plan and he does want you to be happy. And really, things aren't as dire as they appear in the moment. Things pass. Everything passes in this life. That's what makes the bad bearable and the good precious.

So yeah. Tonight, I am satisfied. I am satisfied because I have given up everything, all my rights, and allowed both good and bad to happen and pass and shape me. Because no, I'm not important, but I am sustained. I am loved.

Character

So, here I am again. I've been writing a whole lot more this week, which is unexpected, but it's late right now. I don't want to get started on another part of my story without full control of my consciousness. Also, I just watched two of the worst movies known to man. Well...I fell asleep during the second one. Twice. That's ok. I don't sleep enough at night, I feel like it's a good thing that I catch up on it during the day.

See, friend-whose-name-shall-remain-undisclosed? I only said I don't sleep at night very well. That's why I take cat naps almost every day. So there.

Anyway, I figured I'd ramble on here for a few minutes, maybe drain some of the writing-itch I'm feeling. I don't really have much of a deep discussion to lay out for you today, so I'm sorry. Most of my deep thought these days have been about matters best not thrown willy-nilly into the internet. You understand.

You know what's good therapy? The ability to throw words into a story without much thought of quality or continuity. Don't believe me? Well, have you ever been really, really angry with someone but unable to confront them? Did you ever vent by, say, staging a conversation and shouting into thin air? or figuring out long-winded arguments that of course pin down your side of the issue perfectly? Or just dwelled on it until it got so old and worn out that you just got over it yourself?

Honestly, that's what writing is half the time. It's taking your pent-up emotions and giving them to characters and situations and creating confrontations until you've completely worn yourself out on the subject and can look at it with better clarity. I've done it several time. Feeling overly romantic/lovesick? Slap down a two-page love story. Feeling murderous? Write about...gory battles. Evil, angsty, or angry characters. It's not coddling the emotion, really. It's putting it on the page, reading over it, letting the badly written work show you how illogical it all is, and calming yourself down. It also separates the emotion from real life, which helps you control yourself in the moment better.

"You" being me, of course. I know there are several people who just don't work this way. But even if you are not a writer, per say, you should try it out. It may just help. And then, you can show me your work and let me steal all your ideas, because everyone knows that's what good writers do.

*ahem* Just kidding.... >.>

Me, I write epic novels with all of the above enclosed within. You'll find, if I ever show people anything I write, that most of my characters reflect several of my deepest beliefs in one way or enough. My life goes into what I write, especially the way people relate to each other. Allow me a few seconds to brag, and I will say that I have been highly praised by several experienced and successful writers on my dialogue flow and character definition. It makes me happy--characters are, in my opinion, what make the story. If the characters grab you, it doesn't really matter what the story is about--you'll want to read it.

To a certain extent, of course. Plot is a big part of any story. Give it thought.

Interesting

Listening to music, two specific songs came one just after the other, and I just thought I should share:

Broken by Lifehouse

Wait Til You See My Smile by Alicia Keys

I don't know.... if you listen to the lyrics, it sounds almost like a question and then an answer. I've always found this specific song by Alicia keys very beautiful and uplifting, even though it isn't upbeat.

In other news, I have a picture of my puppy to show everyone. Denver, youngest of a five week old litter. Well, almost five weeks. I'm very, very excited to bring this little guy home. I mean, who needs a boyfriend when you've got a loyal, unconditional fuzzball of love?

Eh...for those of you who don't know, dogs are my first love. I am at my happiest when around a happy dog. Or a happy litter of nine puppies. :)

Renovations are going slow, but still...the chaos of the house has my brain in a scramble. I have literally written zip nonfiction for sixish weeks. I'm just journaling a whole lot and (rarely) posting here. I should try to post here more. I apologize for the long overdue post.

Hopefully the next will be sooner in coming.

Well Hello There

So I'm sure you've noticed that I haven't been posting as much recently. Well, I'll tell you why. First of all, a friend of mine is fostering a litter of nine puppies, one of which I am going to adopt. That'll be in about five weeks, but considering they live within walking distance, I want to get to know them, and they are so dang cute, they are taking up a deal of time and thought process. I mean, I could write about them up here, describing them to every single and boring detail, but it's just not the same over a blog. I might post pictures, should they decide to work on here.

Also, my sister and her husband are moving...tomorrow. My sister is freaking out. I am going to be helping out and the stress level (not mine, but it's sort of infectious) is skyrocketing. Rather, it's bouncing between absolutely relaxed and insanely intense. Ah well.

Lastly, we are going to do major renovations to our house once the sister and husband are away, and I'll be moving to a different bedroom, at which point I'll get the puppy and start training it and taking care of it. Sometimes I get little moments where I just have to write or I'm going to explode, and hopefully I'll be in a position to do that using the blog. But hey, what can I say? Real life comes first, and posts are going to be spotty the majority of the time.

Have a good one.

Oh

I got an email from someone random that I don't know telling me they liked my blog. Obviously, if you look to the side, they are not a follower. Why not? Oh, they just liked the way I wrote and wrote consistently and wanted me to join this random fashion website. I looked, saw the word 'sexy' about fifty times, and passed it by.

But hey, at least I know people...read this. Sometimes. >.> Maybe I should be worried.