Dreams

I am about to graduate in a couple months. Hallelujah. Finally. Can't believe it!--I literally can't believe it.

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If you had asked me in high school if I planned on being a college graduate, and from such a great university, I would have just looked at my toes and shook my head.

I was . . . not a very good high school student. I actually barely graduated--shhhh. I didn't take it very seriously. It didn't help that there were heavier things weighing down my teenage mind, but that could just be an excuse, for all I know. Teenage years are crappy for everyone, right?

While other teens were waiting to hear back from colleges and planning their senior trips, I was completing community service to make up all the school I missed. To be honest, I don't remember a lot about my senior year of high school, but I remember one instance. I remember seeing a beautiful young woman walking across a busy intersection, auburn hair bouncing, carrying a messenger bag and purpose, and I remember thinking: she is a college student, and I want to be her.

Turns out, I didn't need to go to college right after high school. I needed to go to Jersey and meet the man of my life, who would help push me to accomplish all the other dreams I had. Of course it is cliche, but it is sincere. If it weren't for him, I don't know where I would be, but I can honestly say that I don't think I would be graduating from BYU. Not to say that BYU is the greatest school in the whole of Utah (though I am quite partial!). But it stands for a dream; it is the beautiful young woman walking across the street. Something I thought was unreachable, but something he showed me I could attain. And now, I hope I can trust him enough to follow that girl one more time.

As I seriously begin the process of applying to MFA programs, Wayne keeps telling me I will be accepted, but I don't know that it's true. I won't know until I try. And it scares me to death. What if this dream doesn't come true. Am I a failure? It is so hard to know that I am graduated, but not done, not completely where I want to be yet--that I have another program to complete, another graduation to work towards. Sigh, sigh, sigh. I hope I make it one day . . . . not too far away from today.

--until later

Welcome Spring . . . I hope

I hope it's here to stay--and I can't believe I am saying that. Normally, I am fonder of the winter weathers, where cocoa is a staple and snuggling is a must, but I am really excited for the warmth and chirping of spring. Maybe it is the fact that I will be done student teaching--hallelujah! Or maybe it is the tulips. Either way, it reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, from my favorite author, Mr. Hemingway:

"Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason." --A Moveable Feast

Happy New Year!

I wanted my first post this year to be a bit more cheery than the one I am about to share . . . . soooo, I thought I would share some New Year Resolutions for Writers that I found from a Brevity post. 

I will write about that person or place or thing (you know the one I mean) I keep meaning to write about, even if I do it terribly and show no one.

I will write about a robot, humanoid or otherwise, at least once.

I will learn to sit and type ergonomically, because without working wrists and fingers, writing is awfully hard, and voice recognition programs are a feign plain bane pain in the but butt. {This one made me smile}

I will stop printing things I don’t need to print.

I will try writing longhand before I type.

I will read every day, and not just blog posts and street signs, but books.

I will make up my own words.

I will persist.

I am still trying to come up with a few of my own, but I think this gives me a pretty good start. One I know that I would definitely like to work on is sharing my work.                    Thus . . . . this blog! 

You out there have any to add?  

I hope you all had a great New Years celebration, however you chose to celebrate it!

--until later

Slice of Life #9

I would love some feedback! Please let me know if it is overly cliche, or forced, or etc. etc. Those are my two biggest writer's fears--I never want my writing to be . . . ugh annoying.

Thanks!  

Nature’s Rain

The cruel weather beat down on the vehicle, chipping away at the loosening paint, nearly breaking the weakened glass, and washing away his careful memories.

He cringed as he saw the dust being erased from the station wagon and puddle to the ground. That wagon had taken them everywhere: the bagel shop early Saturday mornings; the coffee shop late Friday evenings.

Since she died however, it hadn’t taken anyone anywhere. He couldn’t bear to sit on that shredded leather seat without having her beside him waiting for the gearshift to be put into drive. He couldn’t bear to buckle his seat belt alone, without Evelyn racing to get hers to snap first; her tiny, pale, needle-worn hands gracefully pulling to match his double-size, sunned fists connecting metal to metal with a sly grin. He just couldn’t bear it.

This was the first rain since he had lost her, and it wasn’t an easy one. The drops were pellets as they came down like slushy ice cubes. The splatter coated everything, giving a melancholy fuzz-cover to the world outside. He remembered being inside, behind that steering wheel the last time Jersey had a storm like this. He and Ev sat in the parking lot wiping the wet from their face and hands. They waited it out, both well aware of the slippery roads they no longer had the energy to fight against alongside impatient businessmen and hurried family vans. Instead, Evelyn reached to the back seat and pulled out the dry salami and green olives they had just purchased from the deli. He pulled his pocket knife out of the dash and began to cut them quarter inch slices as she popped the red pimento stuffed olives into their mouths. After their stomachs were full, they relaxed and held hands listening to the pounding outside.

The rain didn’t seem as calming today as it had that time sitting next to her. Somehow, the whole world seemed noisier. The rain sounded like hammers and he was afraid it was thumping nails of ice into his gold wagon. He hadn’t anticipated this. He hadn’t anticipated the fear and sadness that was now overcoming him as the car was being exposed to nature, stripping it bear. Sure he knew sadness would come, he knew the halls would be empty. He knew her perfume would linger in the bathroom without her skin to cling to. But he didn’t know the station wagon would sit there weeping, memories dripping from her mirrors, headlights, and hubcaps. He didn’t know what to do with her. What would happen if he just left her there? He knew the answer—the rain would sneak in to every crack and seam and would ruin the history of its miles with red rust that would weaken and ugly the most meaningful reminder he had. What else was he to do? He couldn’t bear to pull it into the carport; just covering her up like an old couch in an empty show room. He couldn’t bear to sell her; paint a price point in red on her chrome like an old toaster at a pawnshop. He couldn’t bear to give her away; reduce her worth to nothing like an old desk on the curb with a sign “take me.” He just couldn’t bear it.

He turned from the window and let the rain take her.  

Slice of Life #8

Found Poetry 

War

It is a sunny Sunday in 1884.

Fashionable parisians promenade.

Two soldiers almost completely hidden.

Mystery.

An almost eerie silence.

Figures dance. Like shadows on the grass.

Untouched.

All the while, the notary,

almost machinelike 

lurking. 

Haunted by night's magnificence.

Slice of Life #7

With Honors

My husband talked me into watching the movie With Honors over the weekend. And I am definitely glad I did. 

A} Because it has Brendan Fraser in it. Who doesn't love the Encino Man?

  

B} Because it has Dr. McDreamy in it in all of his 90s awesomeness. 

That was for you Sydney :) You HAVE to watch this film!  

And . . . C} The theme song is this gem

In all seriousness though, it really was a great film. It was definitely something I needed to watch. Especially now in my college career. It reminded me of the balance that is so important in life. So often I am saying to my friends and family that work and school are my life. I forget that really those are just two small pieces of my life, and while they are extremely important to me, they aren't necessarily the most important pieces. I need to remember that sometimes there really are more important things than getting As in college.

I am not nearly as eloquent as the writers of this film, so I would highly suggest you take a bit of time to watch it yourself. 

--until later

Slice of Life #6

I am having a hard time writing today. Everything that comes out sounds forced, trite, cliche, ignorant, one-sided, selfish. I don't know how to pull myself out of it. Maybe the prompts in 329 and 423 will help. I hope so. Maybe I just need to not put so much pressure on myself. Just write what I think. Oftentimes though, I feel that my thoughts are just that--my thoughts. Who wants to read those? They are nothing special. I have nothing different or special to say about life that other people haven't thought about or heard. Oh goodness, this is all wrong, I realize that. If everyone had this frame of mind, there would be nothing written. I will try to snap out of it soon.

--until later