Monthly Archives: December 2013

Skyrim has got me in its clutches.

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My character is a level 25 Nord who specialized in the bow with Lvl 100 archery skill.  I spent a half hour trying to find the entrance to this cave to fix a broken amulet (which took three other caves to find each in and kill the bad guys in those), only to finally cave and look in the book to find it was behind the waterfall I’d been circling.

Meanwhile, not much in the way of writing is getting done.  So dumb.

I start my job on the 8th. 

I know that playing Skyrim is just me trying to avoid my problems, but it has the bonus of keeping me out of the kitchen looking for snacks. 

The diet starts Wednesday!  I think I lost and kept off five pounds this year.  LMAO!!!!!!

~wavygirl~

Writing Group today

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I hope they didn’t change the day again and not tell me.  I did e-mail to confirm a few weeks ago, however. 

I had to find new writing to submit this time, and I came across some old characters I invented with my sister in law two years ago.  She was pregnant at the time and she had numerous complications and was in the hospital most of last two months.  He was still born seven weeks early (and just turned two, as a matter of fact), but she was stressing out, unable to think of anything beyond what was going wrong inside her body, and making herself sick with anxiety.

So I took my laptop up to the hospital one day, and started talking with her about co-writing a romance novel.  That is the primary type of novel that she reads, and I’ve read my fair share as well, so I opened up the computer and started talking about characters, names, quirks, enemies, friends, family, and if I remember correctly, we spent a great portion of the day laughing and chatting.  I don’t know if I got her mind off her worries, but I hope so.

So time passed, as it has that way of doing, and we both forgot about our little tale.  I mean, completely forgot about it. 

So when I opened up my WriteWay program, and started going through stuff to see what was in there, trying to get inspired, I stumbled across the characters we’d invented two long years ago.  There was no actual story written, no plot line, no outline, nothing to go on except for these little snippets of character that we’d invented together.  But I didn’t remember that right away either.

I couldn’t believe I’d invented these people and then never did anything with them.  They jumped off the page, eager to do my bidding and become more real inside my head.  I wrote two pages and then printed them out for writing group. 

On the top it said “Creating Life” (I have no idea where the title came from or what we were thinking when we titled it, must be something to do with the fact that she was creating life at that moment?) with both our names on the top.  And that’s when it came to me.  I saw her and my nephew last week so I took what I’d written and read it to her in the car.  She remembered that we did this in the hospital, and how it all transpired, though, with sleepless nights and caring for a newborn, she’d forgotten all about it too.

Now, I really want to start this romantic story with Cale and Kaylynne, Montana sweethearts, but I really need to drop everything and finish the second draft of my current book before I start any new projects.

Ask me how many unfinished cross stitch projects I have lying around here.  Go on.  I dare you.

~wavygirl~

Christmas choir today

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Finally did our show after many weeks of practice.  Pretty fun stuff.  Met with some good friends today for lunch.  Now I’m hanging out at home inventing a new character for a romance novel.  He’s hysterical.

I need something new to take to writing group this weekend.  I’ll probably just work on it a little here and there throughout the week.  I have a work meeting Tuesday, and a Christmas Eve service the same day.  Family on Wednesday.  Not a whole lot else going on the rest of the week.  Which is fine by me.  I plan on enjoying every day until I have to go back to work.

Only a little more shopping to do for Christmas.  It’s pretty easy when I’m only buying for kids.  And my hubby.  But I’m not telling what I got him because he comes on here sometimes.  SHHHHH……

~wavygirl~

A Christmas Tale

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I was so excited.  It was Christmas Eve and we were off to church.  Our church was about four blocks away, and my parents were making us walk in the snow. 

I waited on the porch with my brothers.  They were both older than me, and I wanted nothing more in my life to keep up with them. 

“Santa doesn’t exist,” my oldest brother said, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“Does too!” I shouted at him. 

“What do you think they’re doing in there?” he explained.  “They made us go out so that they could bring out the presents.”

No way.  I stomped in the snow and tried to peek in through the curtains.  They were sheer and I could make out…. nothing.  The room with the tree was in the front of the house, and the twinkling lights peeked at us.  “I don’t see anything.”

The middle brother pushed me over.  “Let me see.” 

“There’s nothing to see,” I said.  “There is a Santa.”

“Nope.  There’s not.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Is not.”

“Is so!”

“Is not!”

“Is so.”

And so on.  He maintained an infuriating calm as he stoically maintained his position on the matter, which frustrated me to no end.  I hit him in the arm and he swatted me away like a fly.  My other brother, the middle child, kept a vigil on the curtain, but had little to add to the conversation. 

“I don’t see anything either,” he said.

I didn’t know if he still believed in Santa or not, but I chose to think he did.  I left off my argument with the other brother, seeing the pointlessness of arguing, plus watching to see was much more entertaining.

There was nothing to see, though.  A few minutes later, my parents came out the door, and my brother and I jumped away from the window by the porch, as if we were caught doing something naughty and Santa might not come for that reason if not any other.

They didn’t say anything, though, and we all left to go to church.  It was a late service, a midnight mass, and we received a candle with a little paper wax-catcher attached to it.  Being able to hold a candle was a novelty, which soon wore off, however.  I wasn’t old enough to take communion, so I sat there during the mass and listened halfheartedly to the Christmas story.  The story of Jesus stirred my imagination, and I tried to visualize what the shepherds might have felt when they heard and saw the heavenly hosts.  And, what were heavenly hosts, anyway?

When the telling of the Christmas story ended, the priest began the communion.  Talk about boring.  The church was packed, and it took forever for the communion to be served to the congregation.  I fiddled with my candle, spilling wax on the hard wooden pew.  I picked it off and threw it on the floor, and when my parents got back from taking communion, I knelt next to them on the knee rest and tried to pray. 

My mind wandered, however, and I wished to go home.  Maybe Santa had come already!  I started to fidget on the seat and my mom had to shush me. 

“Let us go in love and serve the Lord,” the priest finally intoned in his sober voice. 

Finally.

We walked home in the dark and silent night, with freshly fallen snow on the ground sparking in the street lights.  My brothers ran ahead, but I couldn’t keep up, of course, slipping and sliding on the sidewalk.

I heard my brothers reach the house and yell, “Santa came!”, and I started to run.  We had to wait for our parents to catch up, but they were old so it took a long time.

“So Santa came?” my mom said.  “I guess you guys have been good this year!”

“Do we get to open presents?  Do we have to wait until morning?”

She exchanged a look with my dad.  “I guess you can open them tonight.”

“All right!” My brothers and I whooped and hollered and ran into the house to open our gifts. 

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Totally true story.  I can’t remember what we got, I don’t have any idea how late we were up, and I, to this day, have no idea who went to my parents’ house how while we were at church and put out the presents for us.  And I’m absolutely certain that my parents enjoyed having a peaceful Christmas morning without little kids screaming at her while she readied our breakfast.

Still Accomplishing Nothing

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I suppose that isn’t entirely true.  I went to get dog food.  I got a hair cut.  I dropped off stuff at the school my daughter forgot.  I ate lunch.  I washed some dishes.  I watched a couple episodes of Frasier on Netflix.  I put up my Christmas houses.  I went to the endocrinologist.  Nothing new there.  Just got back from 2 hours at the band concert.  Go Lake Shore!

I didn’t make a dentist appointment.  I didn’t clean the house or sweep or do laundry or anything.  I didn’t get a job.  I didn’t write anything today (excepting this…..  I had good intentions but the concert ran much later than I’d anticipated).  I didn’t do Christmas cards.  I did pray, however.

My daughter didn’t get the scholarship she was hoping for, but she rallied quickly, more quickly than me, in fact.  I think her faith is stronger than mine.  One of the first things she said was, “I guess God has a different plan for me.”  She amazes me sometimes.  She already has a plan B and is going to apply for a different scholarship.  This one is automatically 80% tuition paid, which is better than the $24,000 (over 4 years) she was offered. 

If anyone wants to buy any Central Michigan University sweatpants/sweatshirt, size small, let me know, LOL. 

I haven’t heard anything from the college I applied to.  I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t let me in, but it’s a waiting game.  Who knows.  I might not even go.

Anything else?  Not really.  Being an insomniac this week.  I have to babysit tomorrow.  Speaking of which, I didn’t call my sister-in-law back.  Gotta go.

~wavygirl~

Ups and downs

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Actually, I’m very blessed.  I know this.  I don’t want my job search to dominate my life so that I sit in front of the TV all day in a depressed stupor.  I should be enjoying this time off.  I should be writing.  Of course I’m looking for a job.  But I can’t focus.  I can’t seem to pray effectively.  I can’t grab a good book and just enjoy it (except for Watership Down, by Richard Adams.  It has been my favorite novel since I was about 12 and I got it out of the library recently.  I know, I know, I don’t even own my favorite book.  How weird is that?). 

I have another interview on Thursday.  I prayed about this, and my faith is weak, but God and I have an understanding that I will take the first job offer that I receive, and that He’s going to set it all up and I don’t have to worry about a thing.  He’s got me, even when I feel like I’ve lost my mind a little.

Anyway, had a great weekend away with my family; it was just what the doctor ordered.  We were in Ohio, and swimming around an indoor water park while watching the snow fall fluffily all day long.  Everyone got along until the melted ice cream got left in the room and tantrums were had.  Obnoxious tweener tantrums are more obnoxious than toddler tantrums.  At least toddlers can’t control themselves.  Although, maybe with her ADHD, she can’t?  I don’t know, but I don’t let her use that as an excuse.  She is smart and sarcastic, sharp, and savvy.  Opinionated.  I don’t know yet if she’s a follower, but I hope not.

So I found out last week that I was replaced (at least part time) at my old job.  That made me so livid, that they would do that to me.  Then I found out today that it wasn’t the choice of my supervisor, but my old boss didn’t like me (even though I never worked with him) and so wouldn’t let me come back even though they are crazy busy now.  Jerk.  So now I’m just sad about the whole thing.  But I was so done with working for a person who has no business running a business. 

I wish I could afford to stay home, unstressed about money, and unencumbered with distractions.  But that is not to be, at least not at this juncture of my life. 

If I ever get a novel published, it will be a miracle.

~wavygirl~