The Cure: Part Two

Here is Part Two.   Enjoy!
         Zaire could only remember one other time where he slept so horrible and it would have to be the night he found out about his illness.  He tossed and turned all night with Quinn on his mind.  For the most part of the night he laid in bed staring at his ceiling counting the tiny dots that are speckled above him.  He found himself weighing all of his options and the only thing he knew for sure was that he doesn’t want to die.  But as he thinks about that his mind wanders back to the phone call and wonders who it was and why they called.
He stood on his front porch smelling the morning air just as the sun began to rise over the horizon.  His mind was full which confused him.  He held a large cup of coffee in his hands sipping it slowly as it burned all the way down.  The higher the sun got into the sky the more he wanted to live.  The more he wanted to see more days than just the few he has left – how many, he still doesn’t know.  The more he wanted to be able to say he accomplished something – anything, and live to see his life unfold.
He sighed to himself, “I’m only thirty-one.  I still have so much to do.”
Anytime he thought of his illness or the fact he was destined to die his heart broke a little more each time.  He figured after so many years that he would eventually just accept it and move on; live the rest of his days doing the stuff he wanted to do.  But as he begins thinking about that, that’s when he realizes he hasn’t done anything to be able to do anything.  He knows that makes no sense whatsoever, but to him, it’s everything, especially when his dream, the one thing he wants to accomplish and have live on past him, is a novel.  But he knows to write said novel he has to have done something – seen something, or even just felt something that he hasn’t.
Go with Quinn.  A small voice in the back of his head repeated those words over and over.  He wanted to listen to it and go but he was scared.  But what exactly would he accomplish if he continues being scared?  He knew he finds himself complaining or whining about not doing things then something like this falls into his lap.  He had never had the opportunity to go to Tesla Island, and here it was – perfect for him and he may blow it.  Why?  Because he’s scared.  But what exactly is he scared of?  Actually accomplishing something and feeling great about himself for once?  Or failing.  But how will he know if he’ll fail if he never tries.  His mind was heavy.
Zaire grunted loudly to himself and shook his head.  “I have to get out of here.”
Swiftly he started down the road on foot.
He always found the morning time comforting.  Most people were still asleep, getting ready for work, or just getting off of work.  The hustle and bustle you found during the evening hours didn’t exist and it was almost as if no one else was around.  The walk seemed to do him some good even if he had no idea where he was going or when he’d turn around.  He doesn’t walk as much as he used to because it wears him out and makes him sick.  But today it was something he needed.
The more he walked the drier his mouth became.  He began hearing a loud ringing in his ears and his sight began to blur.  He knew he shouldn’t have walked as far as he had, but he knew he needed to get away.  He needed something that was located at his house.  When his legs became wobbly and he felt the ground connect to his person, he had made up his mind.  He will need to find Quinn and begin the trek to Tesla Island to see if they could find what they needed to cure him and her whole town.  He was tired of being sick and finally decided to take care of the problem.  When he realized he was on the concrete is when he remembered that he had no idea how to get ahold of Quinn.
            His head pounded behind his eyes as he gradually sat up.  He glanced around and realized he was sitting in his bed.  It’s never a good thing when you are somewhere but you have no idea how you got there especially when the last memory you have is of you falling to the ground.  He tried standing up but his body began pounding from aches in places he didn’t know existed.  Knowing he needed to figure out what was going on he pushed through the pain and stood up.
He shakily made his way through his house and into his living room that was cleaned up and a smell wafted through the air.  He closed his eyes and sniffed hard – he felt his stomach growl.  It had been a long time since he could remember smelling bacon being cooked in his house.  As much as the smell of bacon being cooked excited him, it also frightened him because he has no idea who is cooking bacon in his kitchen.
He lives alone.
Calmly, figuring it could get really bad if he isn’t, he made his way into his tiny kitchen.  He stalled at the doorway briefly trying to talk himself out of this and reconsider everything he was about to do.  But it’s his house and no one should be frying bacon in it unless it’s him and he doesn’t really know how to cook bacon so they must go.  He took the corner and entered his kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Quinn poking her head around the doorway of his refrigerator.
“Hey sleepy head,” Quinn smiled before stuffing her head back in the refrigerator and went back to making noises by moving things around.
“What,” He paused for a moment trying to think of what to say.  “What are you doing in my kitchen frying bacon in one of my skillets digging through my refrigerator?”
She chuckled to herself as she shut the door, “Do you ever buy groceries?  Shoot!  I had to go to the freaking store this morning and buy what I am making.  But I forgot cheese and you don’t have any.”
“I don’t normally eat here.”
“Dude, seriously, with your illness you should be cooking at home not eating out.”
Zaire shrugged and sat down at his kitchen table.  “I just never really learned and last time I set my stove on fire.  Not something I really want to repeat in this lifetime.”
Quinn turned toward Zaire holding a spatula toward him and waved it around.  “You need to learn how to cook.”
He tried once, well, a few times.  He figured since he lived alone he really needed to know how to make his own food but every time he tried his stove would catch on fire so he decided against attempting that anymore.  He figured being a bachelor that frozen foods would work, they couldn’t be too bad, but once he tried eating a few of them he realized that they were worse than he thought and just gave up.  It takes him briefly twenty minutes to go to Taco Bell and back and he has many menus’ hanging next to his front door.  Most of them deliver.  Why should he lie to himself into thinking that one day he will be able to cook when he can just order out.
“I’m actually glad you’re here.”
Quinn plated the food and walked it over to Zaire.  She took the seat next to him.  “Eat.  Why so happy for me?”
“I realized that I didn’t know how to get ahold of you.”
She laughed.  “Did you check your mail?”
He took a bite of perfectly crisped bacon.  “I…”  He paused for a moment.  “I don’t think I’ve checked it in days.”
“Maybe you should?”
“Meh, it usually only has bills and I don’t have the money to pay them.”
She smiled, “It also has my information in it.  When I left the other day I put it in there thinking you’d check it, see it, and call me to go on my expedition.”
“Well, lucky for you, I didn’t find the paper and I still thought of you.”
“Wait.  Does that mean you’re going to go with me?”  Quinn’s eyes lit up with happiness.
He shook his head.  “I think I will.  Even if we don’t find the cure and I still end up dying a horrible death.  Something will come of this trip and if I don’t do it I’ll never figure out what it is.”
She stood up and clapped her hands together once holding them out in front of her.  “Great!  That’s fantastic!  Oh!  We have to start preparing!”
“Woah!  Calm down Quinn.  I’m sure we have a couple days to get everything together.”
“No Zaire, we don’t.  We have to go now or we might as well just not go.”
“It cannot be that bad.”
Quinn plopped back down into the chair.  “You don’t understand, Zaire, this is something that has to happen now.  If we wait my whole town will die out and you’ll be gone.  Then where does that leave me?”
Zaire looked at her with little emotion in his eyes.  “At least you’re not dead.”
            Quinn, for the next four days, basically never left Zaire for more than twenty minutes.  Usually just long enough to go to the store and restock his kitchen and bathroom supplies.  They went over the rules and how Tesla Island is and she explained just how long it was going to take them to get there – by boat.
“I hope you don’t get sea sick.”  Quinn chuckled as she packed his last bag.
Quinn had already explained to Zaire that they weren’t able to take a lot, just enough to survive because of how small the boat is.  He figured it was fine since all he really needed was food, water, and shelter.  She busted that bubbled once she told him that there may be times where there isn’t any shelter.  He wasn’t sure what he thought about not having shelter at all times.
“I have never really had an opportunity to find out.”
Which was true and he often wondered why he had never gotten into a boat, even just a simple paddle boat.  Their tiny town was surrounded by water, at times, people thought it was an Island, but it wasn’t considered one.  The town was housed to about 25,000 people and there was one road out of it and most people didn’t know there was a town there.  He figured most people found it by accident when traveling in California by taking the wrong turn.  Once they travel down the 25 mile bridge and end up in Davenport they don’t normally leave.  It’s basically a flat area with large houses, one movie theater, shopping mall, some well-known restaurants and two grocery stores.  It’s very secluded, which is what most people that stay like about it.
“Have you never left Davenport?”
Zaire shrugged, “Never really had the chance to leave or actually needed to.”
Quinn laughed suddenly, “Dude!  You need to go to California or something.”
“Why?  What’s in California that isn’t here?  It’s just a long drive across a boring bridge into a state that is full of crazy people.”
Her face distorted, “How do you know?  You haven’t been there?  Don’t knock something if you’ve never seen it for yourself.”
“You’re lucky I’m joining you to Tesla Island don’t push it by talking about going to California. Okay, how about this…”
Quinn smiles, “I’m listening.”
He picks up his bag and puts it on his shoulder and nods, “If we find the cure and I become healthy again, I’ll go to California but you have to go with me.”
She chuckles to herself, “Okay, fine, I will make that deal.”
He felt a small wave of relief thinking if she was willing to make that deal then maybe, just maybe, this cure is real.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly thinking that he might just be able to see a bright future rather than the dim one he’s been staring at for years.

The Red String of Fate:

Found on RebelCircus and wanted to share:

Legend has it there’s an intangible string of fate that binds two people that are destined to be together.  Those connected are bound regardless of time, place or circumstance. Nothing can break the invisible thread between two people who are meant to be together.

The color red is strongly tied to the attraction and desire.  It is also the color of the string of fate that binds two soul mates.  The red string of fate is derived form an ancient East Asian belief.  According to this myth, the Gods tie a red string around the ankles of those that are destined to meet each other or help each other in a certain way.

The concept is similar to the Western concept of a “soulmate” or a “twin flame.”  What is different is that this proverb focuses more on the concept of being “bound” to someone rather than finding your other half.

Like many old legends, the story behind the red string is somewhat problematic.  It is said that walking home one night, a little boy saw an old man reading a book.  He asked him what he was reading.  The old man said it was a book of marriages, and told the young boy he was destined to marry one girl.  When he showed the little boy the girl he was to marry, though, the boy didn’t like the idea because he didn’t want to get married.  He threw a rock at her and ran away as fast as he could.  Years later, a marriage was arranged between the boy and one of the most beautiful girls in the village.  But, when he unveiled her he noticed his wife-to-be had a small scar over her eyebrow.  When he asked her about it, she told him that a boy had thrown a rock at her as a child.  Thus proving their fateful union…

At the crux of this proverb is submitting to a higher power.  Destiny will take its course and in time all will fall into place.  It is important not to fight the red thread.  Even if you find the person on the other end of the fateful red string, that doesn’t mean staying together will be easy.  The proverb is meant to instill loyalty, devotion, and compassion.  The string is also there to make sure lovers remain faithful to one another.

No matter how near or far you are from the person, the thread remains.  There will be times when mentally or physically, you feel distant from the person, but that doesn’t affect the thread that binds you two together.

“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind I was.  Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.  They’re in each other all along.” –Rumi

According to Chinese legend, the deity in charge of the “Red String of Fate” is believed to be Yuè Xià Lâo, the old lunar matchmaker god.  Yuè Xià Lâo is also in charge of marriages.

In Japanese culture, it is said the red string is tied around the pinky finger.  Hence the phrase “pinky swear.”  Originally, it indicated that the person who broke their promise had to cut off their pinky finger.

Caroline Highland of Thought Catalog writes, “The red threads don’t wind their way around our ankles as we walk, don’t catch on us as we brush past things – the Chinese believe that they emanate from us from birth, from the moment we enter the world.  As we age, with each passing year, the threads grow tighter, bringing us close to the people whose lives are destined to intertwine with ours in some way.”

The same writer interprets the red thread as liberating.  “How much easier it feels to fling ourselves out into the unknown, into a new place or stage of our lives, knowing those red threads are there, winding out into the future as they always have been, holding onto souls that will be waiting to catch us, teach us, touch us, and change us.”

According to Wikipedia, “The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances.  This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.”

Do you believe in romantic destiny?

Tissues for my Issues.

The first time around when I was attempting to lose weight seemed easier.  I’m not sure if it’s because I was more focused or if maybe I wanted it more the first time around.  I feel as if I should want it more this time – wanting to get off of medication & get my numbers under control sounds like a fantastic reason to pull off weight.  Especially since I wasn’t on any then but am now.

I don’t remember being this tired the first time.  Two years ago I had decided, even on the weekend when I work, that I would wake up, exercise and eat better.  I did well on it.  (Weekends waking up at 2 pm – since I work from 6pm to 6am.)  I don’t feel as if I had this much trouble those many years ago.  I mean, yes, don’t get me wrong – I do remember having days/nights where I honestly didn’t want to do anything & just wanted to eat fried chicken and cheese sticks.  I didn’t.  I stuck to my plan.  I pushed myself to exercise even on days I didn’t want to.  THANKSGIVING of that year I had dinner and then exercised for an hour.

I was so proud of myself.

This time around I’m having many issues.  Eating issues.  (I don’t eat as bad as I used to but I still have my issues.)  Exercising issues.   I decided that I would get a gym membership (which I did) and I would go with my friend twice a week – the other days going for walks at a walking path we have in town.  I think since I began this (starting seriously beginning in April) I have exercised well for a week & then just having a good day here and there.

Food wise…  Ugh!  That I don’t even want to talk about.  The first time I shopped mostly at Aldi’s since they have so many low calorie products.  For breakfast I would range from cereal with fruit and toast, to breakfast tacos (corn tortillas, eggs, sausage & cheese).  Then for snacks it was usually things like tiny bags of cookies, or Cheese Its.  For lunch, when at work I’d make a sandwich with chips but at home I’d make a bowl of soup, or a chicken salad.  Then a snack.  Then for dinner I would make chicken or tuna with pasta, a little sauce, and a vegetable.  I never took anything from myself meaning, if I wanted it I ate it.  I wouldn’t tell myself no – which worked – well.  From September to December I had pulled off 50 pounds.  (Couldn’t tell, but I did.)

I figured I would do the same thing this time around.  I still remember what I ate, how to eat it, the amounts, and I still have everything I had then (equipment wise).  So why am I having such a hard time with it?  I cannot blame it on the fact that this time I live with people.  They have all said they wouldn’t mind if we changed it up a little.  I know every single person in my household would welcome lighter foods and smaller amounts.  I decided to attempt to pull weight off and get off the medication and it seems as if we eat out more than we did before.  It’s as if I just stopped cooking.  (Which is one of my favorite things to do.)

The boyfriend bought me a slow cooker for this!  How many people do that for each other?  He bought me something so I could take my lunch to work, them have something healthier to eat when I’m at work, so I would no longer have to  buy bad for me foods.  I think since he bought it I did it for one weekend.  (Mostly because everything I have cooked in it comes out watery – even after cooking for nearly nine hours.)

I know I’m sabotaging myself.

I can do this because I have done it before.  I gave serious thought to having the weight-loss surgery but I can’t bring myself to do it.  I don’t feel like I’m there yet.  I know… I KNOW I can do this.  It’s all up to me and I keep getting in my own way.  No one else.  But how can you fix a problem when you’re not 100% sure what’s stopping you?

I thought I had the motivation I needed to go all the way this round but it seems like the more I try the more I fail.  I think half of my hump is that I am so tired.  Tired.  Extra tired.  I know for a fact that half of it is my medication & if I can get off of it I won’t be as tired.  To get off of them I have to lose weight.  I have to wake up and exercise to lose weight.

It’s a circle and I keep walking around in a triangle.

I tell myself every now and again that it’s okay if I miss a day – I’ll make it up tomorrow.  The problem is that tomorrow never comes and I end up not doing anything.  It’s getting to the point that I don’t wake up for days.  I don’t remember sleeping like this since I stepped to the bright side of depression (topic for another day).  I remember then sleeping for days only waking up to use the restroom, eat, and at times go to work.  But once I walked up the hill at that point in my life I began sleeping more like a “normal” human.  I’m back to only waking up for bathroom breaks and to make dinner for everyone.  But then of course, the nights I need to sleep I can’t.  Like right now, for an example, it’s two after six in the morning and I have to be up at two in the afternoon to get ready to be at work by five-thirty to do day one of my three twelve hour day work week.  But like most Friday nights/Saturday mornings, I am not tired – so here I sit.

I have plans for myself “tomorrow”.  Wake up at two in the afternoon and go for a walk.  Come home and make something to take to work.  (No one saw it because I’m on a computer, but I just rolled my eyes.)  We’ll see what happens after I finally go to sleep and wake up.

20 Random Facts…

…about me.

I’m a few days behind on beginning this but I figure late is better than never.  On the list I found of 30 Day Writing, number one said 20 Random Facts About Me.  So I figured I’d do that.  Some that read this may actually already know these facts but I have to start somewhere.

Fact Number One:  I would give everything up to be a writer full time & make a living out of it.
Fact Number Two: If I were under the age of eighteen I would be  considered an orphan.
Fact Number Three: It irritates me more than anything when people take their parents for granted.
Fact Number Four: I’m the youngest out of my siblings (& no matter what people say, it’s not always a good thing.)
Fact Number Five: I’d rather watch television shows than movies.
Fact Number Six: My favorite colors are red & green.
Fact Number Seven: I only crave one thing to eat, every day, Chinese food.
Fact Number Eight: I would take snow all year long & be excited about it.
Fact Number Nine: I have an irrational fear of all of my teeth falling out.
Fact Number Ten: I have fallen in love twice in my lifetime – with the same man.
Fact Number Eleven: I spend too much time on Facebook.
Fact Number Twelve: I’m obsessed with Johnny Depp.
Fact Number Thirteen: I enjoying cooking & when I am I’m probably the happiest.
Fact Number Fourteen: I love to laugh.
Fact Number Fifteen: I’m way too stressed for my age.
Fact Number Sixteen: If I could be on any TV show I’d want to be on SNL.
Fact Number Seventeen: This has taken me two hours & I’m still not done.
Fact Number Eighteen: I’m a misplaced Texan. :)
Fact Number Nineteen: My pet peeves are weird.
Fact Number Twenty: I like playing board games.

After two episodes of Once Upon A Time & half an episode of SNL, I finally finished this.  This was a lot harder than I figured it would be.

 

Writing Daily…

Authors write.  It’s what they do.
Daily.  It’s how they roll.
I’m not an author.  Haven’t finished a book completely. (Almost.)
I don’t write daily.  I can’t always seem to focus.

Does that make me less of a writer?  I ponder that a lot.  So I figured instead of pondering on that topic anymore I’m going to make a decision to write something everyday.  It may just be a quick entry to say hello to the world but it will be something nonetheless.  I just figure if I’m going to eventually be a published author then I must start on that dream now.  &&& since no one will hire me to write full time I might as well just enjoy the blog while I can.

Plus, you never know – this blog may become something bigger.  Doubt it.  But hey!  I can dream.  So I messed around on Pinterest until I found a couple “30 Day Writing Challenges” and picked a couple to choose from.  Figured I can pick two and choose my favorites and then write.  I figured that would be my best route.

Not a resolution.

Two years ago I had decided I was ready to finally pull off weight.  I changed my diet, began exercising, and sleeping normally.  I was pumped!  After four months I had pulled off 40 pounds – I was beyond excited.  I had no intentions of ever stopping until I reached my goal and was able to continue eating like I was without a calorie counter.  Yes!  I’m a calorie counter.

The fifth month rolled around and I began having pains in my feet so bad that when I stopped moving I was unable to stand back on them.  When I woke up after sleeping I fell over and found myself crawling through my house – a lot.  I finally scheduled an appointment with a foot doctor I don’t know the actual name and after some x-rays he figured out that I had plantar fasciitis.  After giving me a shot my feet felt a million times better.

I never really got back into the groove the feet issues took and, well, it’s been two years and I have put back on the weight I lost plus more.  I figured everything would be okay since I haven’t really had any health problems associated with my weight.  Why worry when there isn’t a reason to worry?

In 2014, I decided it was time to finally go to a doctor for a check up – I began feeling weird.  Extremely tired, pains in weird places, etc.  I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and my A1C (number that determines whether you have diabetes) was a little higher than he wanted (they want it less than a 7.0 & mine was a 6.7.)  There is when we started the struggle with finding the medicine that would help and not cause me any issues.  The first set of blood pressure pills made me cough which he said was not a good thing.  Okay, that’s fine, so we moved on to another kind – which is what I still take.  The A1C pill hasn’t changed since I began taking the medicine.

Lately, however, when I take my A1C pill I start feeling… weird.  My head will go light making me dizzy at times, I get extremely tired (there are times where I just want to close my eyes and rest), and my stomach gets very sick to itself.  I haven’t taken it in a few days which is probably causing me more issues than anything.

After a lot of thought I decided that I would get back to making myself healthy.  Exercising and eating right is the plan.  I halfway started yesterday when I got a membership at a gym and started going.  Twice so far.  It may not seem like much, but it’s a big change for someone who is usually found in bed watching television unless they HAVE to get up and do something.

The last couple of years my attitude and health has changed a lot.  I remember being able to walk through Wal-Mart for hours without any trouble, and now I have issues.

Yesterday I started out well.  Ate less than my allotted calories and spent an hour at the gym.  Hooray!  Today, however, I had a harder time. Nothing to destroy anything – I still have work to do.  (Mostly, grocery shopping.  When all you have in your house is macaroni and cheese, & potatoes, you have to buy some things.)  Today was just one of those days where you stand there and think if I shove anymore food in my mouth I’m going to slap myself.  It wasn’t a lot but I know for a fact I ran over my allotted calorie intake for today but I am not going to let it get me down.

Tomorrow is another day.

Need The Pickle.

I’m not much of a gambler, not because I don’t want to win, but because after I spend the money I feel horrible for spending money that could have went for something else; anything else, more important.  This week I decided to swallow my pride and actually agree to “gamble” with money that was hard earned.  What happened and what I learned is as follows.

Wednesday, January 6, I was digging through some of my mother’s stuff that she had in her purse (the coupons that expired in 1997 made me laugh out loud) and in it was two lottery tickets that hadn’t be bought.  Basically what I think happened is that my mother went into a store, more than likely with my grandmother, and filled out two lottery tickets.  Walked around the store for a couple minutes & then decided to not buy them for the fact that she probably didn’t have the extra ten dollars to do so.  So instead, she shoved them into her purse which eventually fell to the bottom where she forgot they were and went on with her life.  But then, I could be wrong.

From that point on that’s all I heard about.  The Powerball is over 500 million.  All day – every time I turned around – I joked about it at one point saying “If I believed in signs I would totally buy me a lottery ticket.”  I was joking, of course, because I’m not a gambler.

By Thursday night the boyfriend & I decided to buy a ticket – nothing special just a couple numbers.  It wasn’t anything to get in a fuss over but I will say this much, I can’t speak for everyone that gambles or who has bought a lottery ticket in the past, but for a brief solid minute when I was handed my ticket I was calm.  Nothing bothered me and I felt free.  I felt as if there was nothing that would bother me again and all my problems were taken care of.  I felt a sense of being free.  Quickly many things ran through my mind that I could get or help with.  I pictured a house and a new car (need a bigger house & have had the same car for ten years), kitchen full of groceries, and new furniture.  I pictured the looks on family’s faces when I handed the more money than they could even count in their heads.  I pictured tipping a waitress 100$ just because it would make them smile.

For a single, sad, brief moment…

I slammed myself back into reality because logically I knew that I wouldn’t win & wouldn’t be a multibillionaire.  That’s common sense but we did play.  We bought us a ticket and spent 15$.  I waited two days until the numbers came out and nothing.  I didn’t match one number on five games.

It’s a saddening feeling when you realize that you’re not lucky enough to win something that could change you & everyone around you in an instant.  Now I sit here and I wonder whether I want another ticket, or two, to try for the 1.3 billion dollars that it’s up to.  The only thing I do know is what my grandfather once told me, “You will never win if you don’t play.”  It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.  But I don’t know if I can afford to blow 15$ to 30$ again just so my numbers aren’t drawn.

Now I find myself wondering how other people feel.  Do they sit around and mope for hours afterwards because their numbers sucked and didn’t win anything?  Do they just toss the piece of paper into the trash and go about their day?  Did they, for a single brief moment, think this could change my mind & I hope I win?

The only thing I know for sure is that life goes on and I have dreams and such.  Will my dream make me a multibillionaire?  Probably not – I’m not Stephen King, E.L James, or some other author that has sold 10,000,000 books, made 5,000,000 movies and receive 100,000,000 dollars.  (That seems exaggerated.)

Meh…

On a totally new subject, I haven’t talked about it much lately because I haven’t done much on it (still editing) but the book is slowly coming together.  However I came to a stop – sort of.  Ever since I began writing this story I have decided that it was a sandwich.  Beginning is the bread, middle is the bologna, cheese, mayo, pickles, and the ending is bread.  For a while I have felt like something was missing that I couldn’t pin point not that I haven’t tried.  Tonight I finally realized what was missing.  Of course, though, I cannot go into great detail.  We’ll just say that now that I have figured it out, I can fix it.  Sadly, at the moment, I don’t have the answers && I’m pretty sure it’s going to add at least three chapters into the story.  This may be complicated…  But all I do know is if I want this book to be half way decent, I have to figure out this pickle.  Without the pickle I have a whole in the whole story.  I wouldn’t worry about it but I have mentioned some of it.  I could just take it out, but then I have to take out a lot more && I feel like this needs to be in it.

I just don’t know – I just know there is way too much to think about &&& not enough time to figure it out.  Okay, that’s a lie – I have all the time in the world unless I want to finish this book completely by the age of 30.  Yes, I gave myself a two year gap.  It’s not unreasonable to put a two year gap to finish a book that I’ve basically finished.  All I have to do is finish the edit process – figure out my pickle – edit again, read it completely through, throw it away because I hate it – dig it out of the trash because I worked too hard on it, flick off the nasties that the trash left on it, notice all of the pencil marks throughout it, edit again, and then print the finished project.  Then of course I’ll stare at it and explain to the boyfriend the 5,000,000 reasons why I should not try and attempt to publish this book – one of which being, this book sucks butt and no one is ever going to want to read it let alone buy it.  He will of course tell me that I’m wrong, because that’s his job.

But then again, I’m still in the early stages of this whole deal – so what do I know?

Christmas Spirit

There is a commercial that plays where a family is welcoming people in and they are handing out gifts with a soft Christmas song playing in the background. There is laughter & many smiles.  Dad, mom, children, grand parents, uncles, aunts – everyone you can imagine. You can tell by watching it that you should feel something.  Anything.

Me?  Nothing.

I go through this feeling yearly and I can’t seem to fix it.  I have been searching for the Christmas Spirit that I remember as a child.  Growing up I remember my mother having it – or so it seemed.  Maybe she didn’t?  I cannot really ask now.  Maybe she faked it well.  Another issue I have?  I cannot even seem to fake the spirit.

Yes, I have things about Christmas I’ll always enjoy.  I love buying gifts and giving them out.  I love the lights, the cold, and the snow.  But it’s that tiny spark people get I cannot seem to find.

I wish I could.  I wish I could feel that something I felt as a child when my brother & I would wake up at six in the morning and sit in front of the Christmas tree.  That feeling I had as I watched my mother prepare dinner or the glee I felt as the days counted down.

I remember watching our local channel all night as “Santa Claus” made his way around the world.  It always made me smile to know that he’d be at my house soon.  I would always make sure, once he got around New York, that I would go to sleep so he’d show up.  After that my mother would hurriedly fill our stockings and leave out the Santa gifts.  Then in the morning we’d have unwrapped presents waiting for us and we’d know that we’d been good and Santa made it – even if we didn’t have a chimney. (My mom told us how he’d shrink and go under the door.  As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that is pretty creepy.  But it’s still the story I’d pass down to the younger generation.)

Now it seems as if the older I get the less and less I enjoy.  (That actually may be half the reason I get so irritated with people when they tell me I should not like cartoons anymore because I am too old.  What should I be watching?  Soap operas?)

Now that I am dating a guy with children I feel like I should be feeling something – if not for me, at least for them.  I can only fake whatever it is I’m missing for so long.  Slowly the “it” I’m faking is fading.  Normally I would be sending out Christmas cards – but does anyone really care about them anymore?  No.  Because I send them to adults and it seems as if all adults feel the same way.  Sparkles and laughter in front of the children but behind doors it’s pure cynical and bad attitudes.

I always knew I didn’t want to become an adult, but I honestly didn’t think I would lose everything I felt that made me happy in doing so.

Now it makes me wonder how many more years will I have loving cartoons before I wake up one day & just not care.  How many more years will I enjoy coloring or putting puzzles together?  How many more years, since I am only twenty-eight years old, do I have before I become the shell of a person I was and become nothing?  How many years do I have before I become the adult I never wanted to become?

Needs to write more…

I wonder a lot if all writers go through blocks.  Not a writers block.  Just a block in general.

I have been finished with the story for nearly a year but yet I am only up to chapter four in corrections.  The first set of corrections.  I honestly feel as if I should be further along than what I am.  What makes it worse is that I haven’t been writing anything else, either.

Writers are supposed to write.
Writers are supposed to read.

I cannot seem to do either.

The last book I remember reading was the third book in the Gabriel trilogy by Sylvian Reynard.  I read that right after it came out.

I took up sewing in hopes that maybe it can clear out a hole in my head that I plugged up.  But all it has accomplished is now I have millions of tiny pillows in my bedroom that don’t have a purpose.  Anyone need pillows?

I pretty sure I am going to put away the sewing and get back to writing.  I walked through a book section in a store and all I could think, “one day my name will be on one of these books.”  When?  I’m not sure of that yet.  But I know one day.

I don’t have anything…

I’m sadly not an authority in anything.

I want to get a second job to make some extra money – mostly for small things around the house.  But I realized a few months/years ago that I am way to lazy.  (My sit down computer job made me this way.)  && I realized that i don’t want to do anything.  I went through a list of places hiring around town: Homeland (town grocery store) – I would only want to be a cashier but I would want a reclining chair.  But I just know they’d want me to stock shelves and wouldn’t give me a scooter cart to do so.  Valero is hiring, (convenience store) – basically, when you work there you do everything.  Sometimes working completely alone and not having anyone to help for hours at a time.  Have you ever tried to run a register, cook deep fried bad for foods, stocks shelves, and handle pissed off truckers at the same time?  No?  Eh, neither have I.  &&& I don’t really want to.  Most of the fast food places are hiring, but I have been there and I don’t particularly like the jokes that come along with being in a “fast food” place when you’re overweight.  ((Being a chef is different when you’re overweight.  That’s when they LOVE you.))

So basically what I am saying is that i want a part-time job where I don’t have to do anything.  What kind of idea did I have?  That’s right!  Online job.  There are many online jobs that only problem I have – I am not any good at anything.  I don’t have any particular knowledge about anything to do online jobs.

I also went through the list of blogging for money but everything says the same thing, “is looking for experienced online freelance writers who are credible authorities in their fields and capable of conveying information to users in a friendly, enthusiastic, and compelling way.”  

What was I getting at?

See! That’s my problem.

Gotta go!