And I'm feelin' good...

Well, I have to say, I feel like I've been pretty productive today, for once. For the last few days, actually, I've been proud of myself. I managed to finally go grocery shopping on Saturday which meant Patrick and I have food in the house for the first time in a LONG time. As a result, I was actually able to cook dinner 3 whole night in a row. Did you see that? I said THREE!! And I was the one who cooked! That in and of itself was miraculous, if you know me at all. Granted, the meals I prepared were nothing too mind-blowing or fancy. But they were cooked by me, which is a big deal. I also discovered while making dinner on the 3rd night that Ore Ida Sweet Potato Fries are AWESOME. I mean it. I like them better than regular frozen fries. They rocked. And since they're made with sweet potatoes they're totally healthier, right? I think so.

In other self-improvement news this week, I have managed to finally pull out my WiiFit Plus again, for the first time since I bought it a few weeks ago. Since I've bought it I've told myself almost every day that I will come home from work, turn it on and do something to work out. And of course, every day I would come home and then....not work out. I would watch TV with Patrick or go out with friends or do pretty much ANYTHING else. On Monday, though, I told myself that there would be no more excuses. I was going to come home, do something on the WiiFit, cook dinner, and then do whatever. And I actually kept that promise to myself. I came home, got the Wii turned on and put together a workout routine. I learned that I suck at yoga, especially when the palm tree pose resulted in my falling off the wii board and into our coffee table. But, as my animated trainer says, with practice my muscles will strengthen and I will hopefully not crash into living room furniture anymore while doing yoga poses! I don't know if she's right, but I guess I can keep it up anyway.

I continued my trend today, also. I came home from work and went straight to my Wii, started a new routine, and then moved on with my night. I always have all of these excuses for not having time for things, but you know why? Because I tell myself I don't have the time when I just dont' want to MAKE the time. I get so wrapped up in the hundred things that I need or want to do that I just get overwhelmed and don't usually do ANY of them.

I've also been writing. I'm not going to lie and say I've actually managed to write every day like I originally promised. I actually have written next to nothing on the book that I claim to want to finish so badly. This weekend, though, I saw something that I think really gave me the motivation I needed. The thing that motivated me probably motivated me for the wrong reason, but regardless it made me realize that I really need to start proving how important finishing the book is to me. Writing is the one thing in my life that I am really passionate about. It's not always obvious, though, because I'm such a huge procrastinator. And without deadlines and the outside pressure of having to finish something I have a tendency to push it to the wayside. Or surf facebook instead of actually writing what I want to. But the truth of it is, I write because I love it. Because I love words, and I love the meanings and ideas and stories that those words can create. I love the feeling of creating something on the page. Sure, it would be awesome if my writing could help me earn a living one day. That would be the dream, to be a professional author. But when it comes down to it, I write because I love it. And my main goal isn't to become the next JK Rowling or write the next best seller-turned movie. It's really just to finish a book, to prove to myself that I can accomplish that. And therefore, I will. Sunday night, I pulled out my laptop, opened my story and started writing. I didn't get all that far, but I wrote. Monday night, after my workout, dinner and some TV time with Patrick I got on the computer again. I only managed to write a couple of sentences before bed beckoned, but I wrote. And tonight, I sat down and actually felt like I accomplished something.

It's days like this that really make me feel good about things. Sure, my life isn't exactly where I expected it to be or where I want it to be, but that's okay. I still have time to get there, even though I often feel like I'm running out of time. But if I can make the time for the things and the people that I love, then that's all that matters. Tonight was a night of simple pleasures. Pizza for dinner, some Castle on TV, some writing...all things that I love. Add to that, I'm currently chatting with my one of my best friends, who I don't get to see or talk to nearly enough, and listening to Guster, who have accompanied my writing all night and definitely helped keep my mood up. Nights like this even almost make me forget some of the worst parts of the day and week, which I was originally going to mention here. But really, why bring things down with the negativity that is bound to resurface on its own before too long anyway? Life is too short to focus on the negative when we don't have to, and I'm sure I'll be reminded of it before too long.

Thank you, dear readers (whoever you are) for tuning in to my self-indulgence. Hopefully next time I'll come up with something less ego-centric to write about. For now, bed is calling and a double awaits me for tomorrow. Good night!

Do you believe in magic?

I love words. No, really, I adore them. I mean, think about it; words are the way we express ourselves to others every day. Sure, we have body language and facial expressions that convey our emotions and meaning to people also, but it's really words that we depend on to get us through each day, to communicate and forge our way in the world around us. Whether through speech or song, or through the written word, there isn't a day that goes by that we don't use words to reach out to others, to get us the things we need, to express our needs and desires. Whether we put much thought into those words or not, we are constantly using them.

Being a huge reader and writer, I think that it's probably safe to say that from a very young age I've been in love with words. That love has only gotten stronger as I've gotten older and sought to express myself more adeptly through the words at my disposal. I really believe there is a kind of magic to words, and to the power that they have to make people feel, as well as to transform. Words can mean so many different things in different contexts. They serve so many purposes every day. They can be used to persuade, to forgive, to express love and sadness, to wound, to heal...so many things. The power and possibility of words is endless. I mean, truly. Every day, people use words to create new things that touch others, that change the world. Sure, action is important too. Without action to back up our words they would lose some of their power and meaning. But without words, how could we even take action?

As some of my friends already know (because they've heard me say it time and again, as happens when I obsess over things every now and then), one of my favorite authors is David Levithan. He wrote my favorite book, The Realm of Possibility (which, by the way, if you haven't read, you should. Now. Seriously, go out and find a copy and read immediately). The words in that book touched something deep within me. It's not a complicated book. It's not a thousand pages long with lots of big words. It's simple, and it's beautiful. And what makes it that beautiful and wonderful? The arrangement of the words on the page. How can anyone NOT find it amazing when a writer, using only words, can stir something deep within the soul of a reader? It's not like TV (which also uses words, of course, lots of them), which comes with a visual representation of the words being spoken. A book relies on the imagination of the reader. On the reader's interpretation of the words on the page, and the way those words and ideas relate to the reader personally. When a book makes us cry, or want to scream at a character, or laugh out loud, that's a testament to the power that words have. And to the meaning that they hold in our lives.

Some of the magic of words just comes from the way they feel rolling off your tongue. The way one word can conjure an image or a feeling immediately upon hearing or saying it. Some words just sound beautiful, don't they? How can you hear the word whimsical and not smile? It's a word that rolls off your tongue, almost floating off of it. Then there are words like livid and hate, words that sound as harsh as the feelings they convey. Sometimes a word really just sounds like what it is meant to represent. Concrete, for example, makes me think of something solid, dependable, unchanging. It just sounds reliable, doesn't it?

Now, I realize, that along with the great beauty that words hold, they can also be used to harm. Even in little ways. People use words every day, but many times don't even think about what they're saying. They don't think about the meanings behind their words, or the consequences of what they say. And just like words can bring people up, lift them and help them rise above things, they can also do so much damage. So much hatred is spread through words, which is sad. But it still attests to their power. They're one of the strongest weapons we have, and like any weapon, they can do great damage if wielded improperly.

So as I end this long and rambling blog, my love letter to words and all they do for me, with a request to anyone who might actually be reading this. Think about the words around you. Think about something you read or something you heard that affected you. A word, a sentence, a paragraph that changed your life. I think if you look hard enough you'll be able to think of one. They're magic for us all, not just for the writers out there.

I also leave you with an excerpt from David Levithan's newest book, "The Lover's Dictionary," which is an enormous testament to the power of words and the many meanings they can hold for all of us....

Acronymn, n.

I remember the first time you signed an email with SWAK. I didn't know what it meant. It sounded violent, like a slap connecting. SWAK! Batman knocking down the Riddler. SWAK! Cries of "Liar! Liar!" Tears. SWAK! So I wrote back: SWAK? And the next time you wrote, ten minutes later, you explained.

I loved the ridiculous image I got from that, of you leaning over your laptop, touching your lips gently to the screen, sealing your words to me before turning them into electricity. Now every time you SWAK me, the echo of that electricity remains.

"We are the movies and the movies are us"**

I forgot how good it is to sit down and watch a good movie. When Patrick and I first started dating, we were movie people, all the way. We watched movies all the time. I would recommend some to him, he would recommend some to me. In the early months of our relationship we spent hours upon hours hanging out, and watching movies. Somewhere along the line, though, we transitioned more from movie people to TV show people.

Honestly, I blame the full-force introduction of TV on DVD. Before TV shows were released on DVD to buy, you either watched the show and kept up with it when it was on TV or you didn't. But now, everything is on DVD. It's made it so much easier to watch shows that you normally wouldn't because you don't have enough time or DVR space. TV shows get and keep you invested, and since Patrick and I have been dating we've invested lots of time, energy, and money into our TV on DVD collection. For people with busy lives that just seem to keep getting busier, the idea of sitting down for a 40 minute episode of a TV show seems so much easier than sitting down and committing yourself to a 2 hour movie. I mean, after all, there are so many other things to do. Might as well give an hour of that time to TV instead of half an afternoon with a movie. Nevermind those TV shows that suck you in and keep you watching 4 episodes in a row...

Anyway, thanks to my addiction to the many, many shows on DVD that I try to keep up with I've been slacking on the movie-watching lately. I just don't keep up as well as I should with movies. We have Netflix, and while we do watch lots of stuff instantly through there, the DVDs we get mailed to us generally sit on the table in the living room for weeks at a time before we either watch the DVD or send it back because we just don't care whether we see it or not anymore.

But today, I made the time for my movies. Everybody's Fine was one of those Netflix movies sitting around the house. We've had it for weeks, and it's been sitting in the same spot in the living room for most of that time. Today, with a few hours to myself while Patrick was at work I finally decided I was going to watch it. I loved it. It made me cry. Multiple times. But it was a really good movie, and I think worth the two hours I spent watching it.

Later, when Patrick got home from work we got food and decided to watch The Town, which my brother let us borrow. It, also, was awesome. Well worth the time we spent watching it, and it actually let us spend some time together, sharing something. For longer than a 40-minute chunk of time. It was nice, and made me think, not for the first time, that we should make time for it more often.

Movies and TV are so different. I think part of the reason that Patrick and I, and so many other people, watch TV more these days is because it's being made better than ever before, and it's more available than ever before. With a TV show you have the time to get invested in a character, to see them grow and develop. It's like the novel of the cinematic world. A movie is more like the short story of film. You get a couple hours to get to know your characters and see where they end up. But when done well, those two hours can be magic, and you can get just invested in those characters and that story as you do in a TV show. That's how you know when a movie got it right.

My three passions in life, as anyone who knows me well could probably tell you, are movies/tv, music, and reading. Those are the things I do to unwind, how I like to spend my free time. And I think the reason that I love them so much is that they are all different windows into understanding human nature and all its facets. Those three things have so much in common, and yet are very different at the same time. But I love the way you can watch a tv show or movie, or listen to a song, or read a book and just get lost in the world that's been created. How you can find similarities to your life, even in worlds and characters so different from yourself and where you're from. These places that are created through art help us escape, but they also remind us we are not alone in the world. There's always someone out there who can relate to our lives, and I know it always makes me feel better when I see someone else express something that I feel is so unique to me to the world at large. It's in those moments that I really do realize that we're all connected, and that we all have a lot more in common than we usually realize. And the best art--in any form--not only lets us know we're not alone, but it makes us think about life, about the connections we've made, that we can make, the way we and others affect the world around us. It gives us something to talk about, and to think about.

This post has clearly gotten a little off topic. I've noticed that most of my posts have kind of done that. I start in one place and get sidetracked along the way. Maybe one of these days I'll get my thoughts gathered enough to form a coherent post that doesn't go off on tangents. Though if I can get those thoughts organized enough for anything, hopefully it will be to focus on the book I should be writing. With any luck, my daily writing for the next few days will focus on that since I've been ignoring it in favor of the blogs this week, clearly. So, to wrap this up and bring it back to where it started, I leave you with this: Find some time soon to sit down, take a couple of hours and get lost in the world of a good movie. Trust me, it's worth the time, and if the movie really is good, your mind and your mood with thank you!

**title quote from David Ansen

Growing Pains...

When I was younger, I never wanted to grow up. Don't get me wrong, I was okay with getting older, and gaining some of the more exciting responsibilities that came with that, like getting to go out with my friends without parental supervision, dating, things like that. But when I was younger, even into high school, I remember being terrified of getting older. The thought of having to leave my parents' house and live on my own somewhere was the scariest thing in the world to me. Whenever I would even think of that time, years down the road, when I would be expected to live on my own, without my parents to feed me and put a roof over my head, my heart would start to pound and I would get nervous. I just could not foresee a time when I would ever be ready for that, and capable of supporting myself in all the ways that grown-ups have to.

The funny thing about growing up, though, is that it happens so gradually that it makes even those terrifying moments, like leaving home for the first time, feel not as scary once they actually come around. Sure, when I went away to college it was pretty scary. Granted, I stayed close to home and knew my parents were only a short drive away if I needed them, but that first night in the dorm by myself was hard. I remember just sitting on my bed in the tiny little dorm room right after my parents left, wondering what to do with myself. How was I going to sleep here? How was I going to wake up here and do all of those every day things away from home? This wasn't home. I was extremely homesick that night, but yet somehow, I survived. Not only that night, but the next, and the next, and the next...I adjusted to life outside the home I had lived in for 20 years, and it ended up being easier than I thought it would be. I was capable of being independent, of getting where I needed to be and surviving my day without my family nearby.

The funny thing is, the younger me, the one that was so reluctant to grow up and move out, really didn't even know what things I should be afraid of. Now that I am a grown adult (even if I don't actually feel like one), living on my own, paying rent and bills and working full time to be able to pay that rent and those bills, I realize how hard it really is. I had every right to be scared of this day when I was younger. But when I was younger I had no idea what adult life would actually entail, aside from moving out. There are so many responsibilities that we have as adults, and I don't know that we're ever fully prepared for them. There is so much that goes into being a responsible adult, and dammit, it's hard. Looking back, I wish I could sometimes relive my younger years, free of any real responsibility. But at the same time, there are freedoms that being an adult brings that are worth it. Parts of growing up are fun, even if they bring with them some stress along the way.

The funny thing is, even though I am now 27(!) I still don't really feel like a mature adult. I wonder if this is the case with everyone? I mean, I have my own place, I'm married, I have a full-time job...those are all adult things. Things that should make me feel like I'm really grown up. And yet...I don't. Maybe it's because I feel like there is still so much I want to do, like go back to school. And thinking about how old I am now makes me feel like time is running out, even if it really isn't. Maybe it's also the idea that I have in my head that being an adult means you have to take things more seriously, or enjoy certain things less. But I still like to have fun, I still love my music, and I still tend to be extremely silly sometimes. And I don't ever want to let those parts of me go. I wonder, though, when will I be old enough to feel like I'm grown up? Because a part of me wonders if I will always feel like I'm younger than my age. Even though I am technically a grown-up, I still go to my parents all the time for things I have questions about, or if I've had a bad day. And granted, they're not the only people I go to for these things, but I always feel like they'll have the answer for me. They have since I was a kid after all.

I know by now this post has gotten pretty long, and I've rambled through a lot of it. But this is something I've dwelled on a lot recently. Maybe because I'm married now, and maybe because I've just started a new job. I don't know what the reason is. It is strange to think about the younger version of me, though, who was so terrified of being in the place that the grown-up me is right now. And if I had the chance to go back and talk to that younger version of myself, what would I tell her? Yeah, some parts of growing up are scary. But don't worry, it's not all bad, and you never really feel all that grown up after all anyway.

"It's a job that's never started that takes the longest to finish."

Well, here we are, on the 5th day of January. And this is my second blog entry. Despite the fact that on January 2, I said my goal was to write every day, I'm going to be honest. This is the second time that I have written anything non-work or facebook related since the 2nd. In other words, I have already failed at my goal. And while I have good excuses for not writing for the past two days--and they really are good, I swear!--the fact of the matter is I really could and should have made more of an effort. Am I disappointed in myself for not writing? Yes. But I'm not going to beat myself up for it. Because let's face it, there are going to be those days. I am, however, going to make a more conscious effort every day to try and make time. I have to!

The title quote of this blog is from J.R.R. Tolkien, famous author of The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I have to say, it struck a chord with me, because it really is true. It's great to have an idea, and you can have every intention of taking that idea and doing something great with it. But until you get over yourself and your distractions and just START it, it's never going to get finished. I think sometimes it's fear that keeps us from moving forward, and sometimes it's just laziness. Either way, I've officially started this job and I'm seeing it through to the end.

Now, while my excuses for not writing are still excuses and don't really excuse my laziness, I'm going to lay them out anyway. Monday I went back to work, my first day back at the new job since right before Christmas. It was a good day, but it really is going to be difficult getting used to those early mornings (and more importantly, the early bedtimes) again. I haven't had to be up that early consistently since I was student teaching, and that was longer ago than I would like to admit. Upon getting home I collapsed on the couch with my wonderful husband and a few episodes of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills before heading out to have "wine & whine" with two of my favorite girls. After all of the drama and hooplah that the holidays and time with family inevitably brings, us girls needed a night to vent and laugh and just relax. It was a night of great friends, great food, and great wine (yes! There's a wine I like! Oh, sparkling almond, how I love thee...). It was a great way to kick off the week, I have to say. It really was a great night, and by the time I got home I was so full and tired that I crashed pretty much right after I got home.

Tuesday I was awake nice and early again, and off to work. It was another good day there. I'm gradually learning and being taught new things, and it will be nice when I know enough of what to do on my own that I'm not constantly asking for the next thing to do. That's always the hardest part of a new job or a new anything, I think. Those awkward first weeks when you're the new kid on the block and you feel like you're never going to learn all of this new stuff that everyone else seems to know like the back of their hand. But you gotta do what you gotta do, and I'm making my way through.

After the day job (I have a day job now!!) I headed to the library for my shift there. While the library makes for some VERY long days for me a couple days a week, I can't imagine giving it up. Aside from the fact that I would potentially like to be a librarian one day if I ever get my butt in gear and actually get myself enrolled in a Master's program, I really just love it there. The people I work with are great, and being in a library is just fun. I'm constantly bringing books and CDs home just because they catch my eye as I check them in, and as a result I always have too much to read, but also always something to recommend. Say what you will about my slacker ways with writing, but I can honestly say I read every single day. I'm the nerd sitting and reading on their lunch break, and I ALWAYS have a book in my purse. So really, the library is a perfect place for me. And again, the people are great. I feel really lucky to have gotten the job at the library I'm at. My brother and other friends of mine that work in libraries like their jobs but also have people that they work with that make their jobs just a little less enjoyable. I really like just about everyone that I work with. I have FUN at that job, and it makes the long days that much more bearable and worth it.

So yeah, I know, regardless of the long days I need to keep my promise to myself and really make the effort to write every day. And I really will try, even if it means a quick blog entry or a paragraph or two during my lunch break. No matter how hard it is to turn Castle off after one episode or refrain from the latest episode of Celebrity Rehab, I really will try. But for now? Looks like this entry is over, and Torchwood, a warm bed, and a husband are awaiting me. Goodnight!

Back on the Wagon...

Well, I'm back. It looks like, with my last post, I managed to go for almost 2 years without posting anything. Which is pretty much my track record with journals and writing in general. I start out nice and strong, writing regularly, making myself proud, and then...fail. I really don't know what it is. Every time I have started a journal in my life I've started out strong. I set out to write something--anything--every day. And in the beginning, I do really well. I take the time out before bed or when I have a few free minutes and write, excited that I will have this time in my life documented, able to look back on in the future and see the me that existed at that time. But for some reason, after about a week or so the sense of urgency and determination that I had to write every day dwindles and I just stop writing. As much as I want to document my memories and my life to be able to look back on when I'm older, I just don't. Even when Patrick proposed and I was knee-deep in wedding planning and wedding thoughts and details and drama, I started that journal, kept it by my bedside and wrote in it for about a week or two before I gave up, again.

But alas, it is a new year and I'm going to try again. Granted, I'm not exactly off to the greatest start, seeing as how this is day 2 of the new year but only my first blog post. Apparently the procrastinator in me will never fade. It is important to me, though, that I keep myself writing. The writer in me is a part that I've always cherished, ever since I was 9 and writing stories about talking animals and Thankgivings gone awry thanks to rogue turkeys. And as an English major, it was easy to keep myself reading and writing while I was in school because it was pretty much required of me if I wanted to do well. And, being the overachiever that I am, I did want to do well. But once school ends and the writing isn't exactly required anymore, I've found that it's much harder to motivate myself to actually write. Reading is a piece of cake--I can pick up a book whenever, and always carry one with me. But writing really has been another story.

I feel like this year could be the fresh start I've been waiting for for awhile. There's a sense of optimism about this year that I've rarely felt in the past at the dawn of the new year. But really, it's already starting out to be a year of change. I'm married now, just started a new job, have a beautiful niece who I love to pieces, and wonderful friends who I might actually get to see more often now thanks to the new job. I feel like I'm finally at a point in my life where I might actually be able to reach for my goals more realistically. Go back to school, write the book that I started forever ago and have mostly halted progress on, and just enjoy life with my awesome husband, friends, and family.

So, while by now this post has surely gotten self-indulgent and long-winded (maybe that's why I've always given up in the manual journal? Hand cramps are a bitch) the moral of the story is this: The one concrete goal that I have for this year is to force the writer in me to actually write, and hopefully grow. Every day I hope to write something, whether here on this blog or in the novel that I've talked about finishing for about 2 years now. Either way, the only way to be a writer is to write. And damnit, I want to be a writer. So, even though I'm starting a day late, here's me kicking off the new year with a new goal. Hopefully I'll last longer than a week this time!