Tag: thoughts

Been a while…

I hope everyone is still hanging around especially since it’s been a while since I’ve wrote anything.  Whether it’s been a blog or just writing in general.  Sometimes I get in slumps and cannot get anything to flow out of my fingertips.  (At least that’s the excuse I’m giving as to why I haven’t been writing on Frost.  The blog excuse is different…)

A few months ago we adopted two cats, a white one named Milo && a black one named Chang.  (We lost Chang on Sunday &&& I miss him terribly.)   The Boyfriend and I left for work and apparently the cats got extremely upset and went crazy in our bedroom knocking over a glass of water I had sat on my side table.  The end result?  Well, I just bought a new laptop, if that can give you any indication where the water landed &&& what it destroyed.  Yeah.  I had to wait until I had the money to replace the laptop.

o&&&& I would just like to say that I never realized how much I depended on my laptop when it came to writing.  I bought it, got it home, opened the box and sat it up then I just sat there staring at it.  My first thought?  “What am I to do now?”  I mentioned my thoughts on Facebook &&& everyone basically said the same thing, “You could write now?”  

&&& they are right, I could write.  I could write all kinds of things.  But the part of my brain that has control over my writing is dead.  Actually, no, it’s not dead – it just has so many ideas that I can’t keep up with it.  Then there is Frost.

Oh Frost.  Remember when I said that Frost was finished.  The first draft, that is.  It is, I didn’t lie.  However, every time I sit down to edit the story I always seem to change things.  Then I stop working on it for a while and when I pick it back up, I change things again.  I can’t stop myself!  IT’s like a bad habit.  Almost like my own little drug.  

My drug of choice?  Changing my story over &&& over again.  If only they had a meeting for that.  Or an app.  Maybe an app that would zap my fingers every time I thought of a new way to change it.  (((I’ve also changed my characters names at least eight times since I started writing it back in November 2012.)))

How long does it take before people stop believing you about writing a book?  I started this story in 2012, can still remember what I was doing, what I felt like and the fact I sat on my bed (didn’t have a desk) for six hours straight writing. I feel like I’m doing something wrong, most people finish books within a year, and here I am six years later.

I don’t know. 

Off thought, I think I may like this new editing screen.  I’m not sure how long it’s been different, but this… I like.

Thoughts Crashing Into Each Other.

The other day, standing in the shower, for a brief moment – I seriously started thinking about stomach surgery.  Packing up a little car, going for a ride, talking to a doctor, and having surgery to shrink my football stomach down to a lemon.

In that moment, I quit.

I quit wanting to try, wanting to prove people wrong, and wanting to be proud of my weight loss.  In that moment I decided that I will never pull the weight off, and that I’ll be obese the rest of my life.  (Even if I don’t want to be.)  I decided that I was only fooling myself into thinking that I can do it.  (Even though a few years ago I was doing it and a few months ago, I was doing it.)  I decided that the journey was too long and if I got the surgery that it would help and take away half the battle.  I’d go down one hundred pounds so quick that I would have the energy, and the oompth I’m missing out on.  I’d probably be taken off some medications and have a different outlook on life.

I got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself.  I looked at all the extra that I have.  I lifted my arms and looked at my sides, I turned and looked at my back.  I felt tears, but I didn’t cry.  I didn’t let the feeling overtake me and I didn’t let the tears win.  I dried off, got dressed (in my black t-shirt and black shorts, which I wear all the time because nothing else fits and I cannot afford clothes that fit me), and sat on my bed – in the dark.

I started thinking about life and things I want to see, or accomplish, or feel, or live.  I started thinking about complications, and possible outcomes after surgery.  I started thinking about that conversation I’d missing out on when someone says, “oh wow, you’ve lost a lot of weight.”  I remembered that I always wanted to say, “Thank you, it’s taken a lot, but well worth it.”  I think about how the conversation would be different if I have the surgery:

“Oh wow, you’ve lost a lot of weight.  You look great!”
“Thank you, but I cheated, I had the surgery knowing damn good && well that I could do it on my own.”
The look on their face will be priceless, their smile would falter and they’d have a look on their face that screamed ‘I’m sorry I asked’.
I’d walk away, hating myself, because deep inside I know I could do it without it.

A few days passed before I ever talked to The Boyfriend about it.  We were standing in a gas station, I had just bought three egg rolls out of the hot box, and we were leaving to come home.  It was early (my late) and I had just gotten off of work – I was hungry, but I didn’t want to go home and cook.  Who wants to do that when you just worked twelve hours and had to get up in six hours to work twelve more?

The cashier had just told us that she and her husband had the surgery.  Together.  I scanned her face, her arms, body and I sighed.  That look flashed through my mind.  She’s older than me, but it briefly frightened me.  Would I look like that?

On the way to the car I told them boyfriend, “I’ve been thinking about the surgery lately.  Maybe it would help.”  He was silent at first, like he usually is when it comes to my weight conversations, but then he spoke.  He sighed, and told me that if I wanted it he wouldn’t stop me, but he doesn’t want me to have it.  He always tells me,  but sometimes after doctor visits and they tell me I’ve gained weight since the last visit, if a doctor tells me I have to have it or death will occur, that he would step aside and let it happen.  But he doesn’t want me to get it – I understand that.

I told him, once we were sitting down in the car, that maybe if I had the surgery, it would give me the weight loss boost I’m needing (or think I’m needing) to get the rest off.  His face fell slightly, and he just stared at me.  I know what he was saying without him saying it.  It’s not hard to figure out his feelings toward something he doesn’t agree with.  I understand – I don’t agree with it, if it’s not the last option.  (I don’t think someone that weighs under 250 pounds should have it.)

It’s been a few days since then and it’s been on my mind.  The thoughts – the shower – his reaction – his look – that conversation.

What I’ve realized since then is a few things.
One.  I know I can pull the weight off by eating better and exercising.  I’ve done it before.  (Some part of my body seems to start hurting after three months, and I stop, put all the weight plus more back on, and then hate myself.)
Two.  I want to be able to tell people that I did it with hard work, determination, and a lot of blood/sweat/tears.  (Surgery will not help me do that.)
Three.  I think I love myself too much to put myself through it.

So what has all of this thinking made me realize?

I still want to work hard, take years and pull the weight off by myself.  Not with help from a surgeon who is out to make a million dollars by fifty.  I know it’s going to be hard, a long battle, and it’s going to take a lot of time.

But I can do this.  I just have to get my butt in gear and stop making up excuses as to why I can’t, or wont do it.

Soulmates.

Soulmate: noun.  A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

People are given two soulmates in their lifetime.

A lover.
The one person who opens your heart to a whole new world and wonder no one can give you.  A single touch electrifies you.  Intensity.  Love.  Honesty.  Affection.  Spiritually.

A best friend.
Someone to spend life with that doesn’t hate you, scar you, && is always there to help && protect you.  Love.  Honesty.  Spiritually.

You can love many people in a single lifetime.  Some stay, but most leave.  Boyfriends.  Girlfriend.  Friends.  Co-workers.  Life hands you hundred’s of people in your life but the ones who matter never leave.  You may not talk daily, or see each other often – but you know, deep inside, they are there forever.

Growing up I always said, and believed, that a person can only have one soulmate until I realized that’s not exactly true and funnily enough, I realized this while watching One Tree Hill.  I will always believe you can only be “in love” with one person in your lifetime.  I don’t believe you can feel something THAT strong for multiple people.  (You can love as many as you want.  Big difference between loving someone && being in love with someone.)

But sometimes I forget about best friends.  That one person you meet and you simply think to yourself this person, I like this person, they will be mine forever.  &&& it’s true, you may not see them on a daily basis, or even monthly basis.  But you know, &&& they know, &&& everyone knows – they are your person.

Your.  Person.
Your bestfriend.
Your companion.

Everyone needs that person too.  You need the one person in your life who isn’t going to tear you down, or make you feel inferior to everyone else.  Someone who doesn’t crumple your spirit, or squeeze you like an orange if you want to believe in rainbows and unicorns.  Someone who will not get mad when you trip them into the mud, or lock them out of the car on a rainy night.

Reading that you started thinking about your wife or husband.  Boyfriend or girlfriend.  But do you think of your best friend.  The person you met in elementary school or junior high.  Possibly high school or college.  Or if you lacked social skills and didn’t develop much until adulthood, maybe you’re thinking about a person at work.  A girl or a guy that makes your life a little less stressful and enjoyable.  Life is hard enough trying to maneuver your way around it – it’s even harder when you’re alone – that’s why God gave you people.  Two people.  The two people that will get you through life without too much struggle, or too much pain, heartbreak, or sorrow.

Those two people.
Your lover.
Your best friend.
Your soul mates.

 

Maybe…

…I’m not well read enough.

The one thing all authors tell you when you ask about writing books is to read.  &&& read often.  Other than of course writing.  &&& writing often.

I find myself jotting down sentences to paragraphs all the time.  I have a notebook that I keep in my bag (work bag) that has writing all over it.  A sentence, or paragraph, words or names, or even ideas for a story.  Some of it is something I read in books, or something I thought of while sleeping.  I keep notebooks beside my bed, and in my purse.  There are some in my car, and in my dresser.  &&&& to make sure I write at least once a month I am still contributing to a work newsletter where I put a few pages and write on a story for months.  I just finished on, The Cure (which the last part will be uploaded here soon.)  I’m about to start another once I figure out what I want to happen in it.

But what I have been lacking a lot of lately is reading.  I got into a slump a while back and just never finished books that I started or even series.  I told myself this year, 2018, I want to read at least 50 books.  That’s approximately four-ish books a month.  I’m sadly not on part with that, but I’ll get there.  I hope.  I am keeping up with my totals on Goodreads so I know how many I read and how many more I have to go.

As of today, February 8, 2018, I have read two and never finished another.  It tally’s the book I never finished because I left a review for it so according to it I have read three.  I have been wanting to read a series that has been out for about a year, I am reading the first one right now, but I don’t have the other two and cannot find reason to purchase them when I have at least fifty books at home, right now, that I Haven’t read.

But that’s my goal.  That’s my thing this year.  I plan to read this year and hopefully it can help me with my writing.  I also plan to continue wiring for the work thing and hopefully soon I can pick back up Frost (which I think I’ve decided to rewrite it, yes, again.)

So I’ll keep that up and keep this updated on how my progress is going.  But one thing is for sure – I need to get to reading.  Because I still have 48 books to go which is approximately 4 books a month (still) leaving me with 8 more to go.  Yup!  I’m behind.  I sadly don’t want to finish “The Raven” by Sylvain Reynard because I have read all of the other books I own by him and I don’t have “The Shadow” or “The Roman”.

But that’s okay.  I have a few others laying around on book shelves that I need to finish.  The Crossfire Series by Sylvia Day and a few by Christina Lauren.

I’m rambling now.
Closing now.
Have a good evening.
I’ll talk soon.

Last minute thought.  I am also putting in a goal to write in this more often.  If I cannot seem to write stories I can at least write in this blog daily.  Most days.  Maybe not everyday.  I don’t have that much going on in my life.  But a couple times a week.  More than once every three months.

Are we enablers?

Tonight on my way home from work I began wondering if I am an enabler for behavior I don’t agree with.  Do I, without realizing it, tell people that I am okay with them treating other people horribly and without any care whatsoever?  What gives me the right to ever let someone sit somewhere and bash another person without telling them to stop and think about this first?

I am a listener.  I have been since I can remember.  I want people to be happy and I figure that if I listen to them rant, rave, and complain that somewhere they will just automatically turn happy.  However, I’m not happy.  Through this whole process that I’m holding their hand for, I’m not happy.  I’m not happy listening to grown adults trash talk one another over which one took the last piece of college rule lined paper from the bigger desk.  I’m not happy as I sit there, in my chair at work, and listen to women, who happen to be older than me, call someone else an ugly whore with no morals.  I’m not happy when I listen to two women sit across from one another screaming obscenities over some of the dumbest reasons.

Now I wonder, if all of these times I sit there and allow them to rant to me about other people, am I enabling them to treat people like crap?  Am I telling them this behavior is okay and they should continue doing it?

The biggest thing I have been toying with is – would it stop if I were to tell them I refuse to enable a behavior i don’t agree with?   Just tell them no, I refuse to listen.  Would that make them realize that the way they are treating people is wrong and they should seriously rethink their strategy?