Last day of Chanukah

Today, the last day of Chanukah, I finally received the candles I ordered. I felt bittersweet as I said the prayer over them. This Chanukah has gone by so quickly, as everything goes by so quickly...

Anyway, when I lit the shamus (the candle in the middle of the menorah), it didn't seem to be lit up very much. The flame was very small, almost like turning on a laser pointer. I picked up the shamus and lit the rest of the candles. When I put it back, the flame seemed much bigger, as if it had gathered strength from feeding all the other candles with itself.

This Chanukah week has been an eventful week in many ways. I've recommitted myself to my writing... I just came to the point when I realized that I know I'm going to be a writer. It's not a matter of if I get published, it's a matter of when. (Although I am breaking one of the rules in my editing book with all these italics! Oh, and with the exclamation point too. Damn.)

So if I'm going to be a writer, why worry about what else I'm doing? I'm doing the best I can to concentrate on my writing. I've been investigating doing some grant writing, too... grants are hard to get because you have to write out your whole budget and write a statement of purpose and all that, but I'm steadily working on it. I want to get a grant to finish, publish, and promote my first novel. In the meantime, I started working on my second.

A writing book I read suggested giving yoruself a page quota and sticking to it every day. I made myself write 5 pages today. The problem is, I don't think they were nearly as good as what I've written in the past, and it became a chore to sit there and get the five pages done. I understand that you need to have discipline to become a writer, but I'm not quite sure this is the way to go.

In the mean time, I got fitted for contact lenses today! I tried this once before, but Dave and I were so disorganized I managed to lose the lenses after spending a fortune on them :( This time I intend for things to be different. I have such nice eyes... how can I hide them behind glasses?

It's hard to get used to wearing these lenses. I see better in them than I do in the old glasses I was wearing. But my brain is used to not seeing properly so it keeps thinking I'm not seeing right because I am seeing right, if that makes any sense.

Anyway, here's a picture of me in my contacts. (I've lost some more weight, too... more about that in a minute)

I had trouble taking a picture of myself...the camera was way too close and kept making me look strange. This is the best I can do.

Anyway, like I said, I lost another 3 pounds, for a total of 21 pounds thus far. I hit my 10% goal last week, which means that I have now lost 10% of my original body weight. It took me 3 months... I'm hoping to lose another 20 lbs over the next 3 months, and then 20 lbs more... six months from now I should have reached my weight goal.

The 10% goal is important because when you lose 10% of your overweight, you greatly reduce the risk of heart disease, cancer, stroke, diabetes, etc. I bought myself a really nice dress at JC Penney's as a reward. Some other time I'll take a picture of myself in it.

Oh yeah, and tonight I'm going to make macaroni and cheese. This is a good Chanukah.

Climbing out of the hole

I just spent the last two days being very depressed :( I was in a fairly good mood on Thursday night, having just gotten the Mighty Mitsubishi, Mark II. (Dave always called our car the Mighty Mitsubishi, so the new one is now christened as Mark II of the same). Here it is:

















(It isn't a great picture since I took it at night... I'll take better ones sometime)

Anyway, so I was in a decent mood, like I said. Then I got a very lecture-y e-mail from my brother.

My relationship with my brother is complicated at best... as kids we did not get along at all, mostly because adults were always comparing us and therefore we both tried to prove that we were "better" than the other. My brother pounced on every one of my mistakes and made fun of me. I, for my part, irritated him by not giving him any space whatsoever.

So my whole life I've seen my brother be very close with my little sister while wondering why I couldn't have that kind of relationship with him. Recently, we've begun writing e-mails back and forth. For the first time, we're beginning to have a decent brother-sister relationship.

But I made the mistake in my last e-mail of telling him of my plans to pursue writing 100%. In his return e-mail, I heard all about how it's so much better to earn your own living than to live off help from your parents. He considers student loans and grants to be the same as living off someone else. In his opinion, I'm not fully an adult unless I'm earning my own living. Therefore, he encouraged me to find a job--any job--and consider writing as a second career that I do in the evenings after work.

Immediately after I read his e-mail, I felt my mood go way down. At first I thought I was just angry because he wrote as if he thought I didn't know what it felt like to earn my own living. I thought about the absolute poverty that me and Dave lived in because I didn't want to be dependent on my parents. I thought about how unfair it is that Dave never got to come out here and experience life absent the constant struggle to stay above water. I missed him terribly because I knew he would understand in a way that my brother did not, and I felt alone.

So I turned off my computer and watched Scrubs and had a long imaginary talk with JD (who is my favourite character and who I have a crush on) because he's my age and is constantly struggling to grow up. And I told him what I couldn't tell anyone else: while my brother's advice is practical and sound, it's wrong. It's all well and good to say, "Have a job to fall back on," but the problem is that all my adult life I've done that, and in my case, having a fall back job means not really trying to be a writer. It's time for me to approach my calling with confidence, not with fear of failure. And choosing to focus 100% on my writing right now doesn't make me less of an adult. In fact, it's the most adult decision I've ever made.

I felt a little better after that. I had imaginary sex with my imaginary friend, which I guess is good because it's the first time I've had any sexual feelings at all since Dave's death, and in any event it calmed me down.

The next morning I had a long real talk with my mom. She didn't want me to be mad at my brother and she's afraid I'm giving up on teaching. She also thinks I should just get any job (as long as it's not working at Kinko's) so that I'll get out of the house more.

I wandered around all day in a daze. My head ached and I couldn't concentrate on anything. There was a candle lighting ceremony at a local temple to commemorate the first night of Chanukah, but I couldn't bring myself to go. Somewhere along the way, I lit a candle myself for Chanukah and suddenly found myself remembering how last Chanukah Dave made me potato pancakes and prayed with me over the candles. I thought maybe the real reason I was having a hard time was because I was missing him. I tried to forget about everything. I tried to edit some of my novel but I couldn't read more than two pages because my head ached too badly. I watched Scrubs and had another long imaginary talk with JD. He "told" me I wasn't sleeping enough. I resolved to do better.

Yesterday was kind of more of the same... the morning was a little bit better, I guess, because I dreamed I had become a tutor rather than a teacher. When I woke up that stuck with me. A little later, I looked in the classified ads and found an ad for a special-needs tutor. Needless to say, I applied right away.

Shortly after that my giant headache came back, worse than the day before. I couldn't do anything but lie in bed... everytime I sat up my head started aching awfully and I felt really sick.

This morning, though, I finally broke through the depression or whatever it was. I checked out a new church with my neighbor. As soon as I walked in, it felt right, the same way my new car felt right the second I sat down in it. The way this church was set up just reminded me of The Quest... I felt strongly that if Dave were here he would love this church too. The service started with some Christian rock--there wasn't a live band like at the Quest, but the words were on a slide projected onto a screen just like I'm used to.

This was the best service I've been to since I moved out here. they had a guest pastor who was visitng from Poland. He spoke about the importance of reading the Bible so that you know what God is trying to tell you. He talked about some of his truly horrific experiences, trying to be a religious leader in a totalitarian country... he spoke about being arrested and beaten and almost shot for the crime of spreading religion. He takled about n ot being able to find an entire Bible because the Bible had been banned from Poland. He talked about having signed a contract to be a sculptor in Sweden, only to have the Polish border closed two days later, causing him to lose the life savings he had invested in his new business.

It was truly an amazing sermon, and I was so glad I went. Afterwards, they had refreshments just like they always had at the Quest. I half-broke my diet and ate a few small brownie pieces.

My head is starting to clear up now, and I'm wondering why I let my brother's letter get to me. I guess in my heart I was only 99% committed to the idea of being 100% committed to being a writer... there was a part of me that was afraind, that felt I should do the traditional thing I've always done. I realized that it's not a matter of if I'm going to be a published writer... it's a matter of when, and therefore I just need to keep pursuing it.

I'm going to approach writing as if it's a job this week. I meant to start this last week, but I got thrown off by the whole situation with my car. I'm going to get up early tomorrow and get all my morning routine stuff out of the way before 9 AM--exercising, showering, eating breakfast. Then from 9 to 12 I'm going to research writing grants and contests, and start applying for them. 12-12:30 is lunch. After lunch I'm going to spend a couple of hours planning my new novel, Chasing Ghosts. Then I'm going to work on revising my previous novel until 5 PM, which is closing time. That'll give me half an hour to prepare my Toastmasters speech for tomorrow's meeting, but that'll be enough time, because I know already what I'm talking about: the importance of following your dreams.

This excites me. Oh, I know I have practical things to do... things like paying bills and calling the insurance company and so on, and I plan to work them in between my writing tasks, just as I would if I were at a full-time job. And I know I need money of my own, which is why I'm investigating grants. Unlike my brother, I don't see grants as an "allowance" that interferes with me being an adult. I see getting grants as me taking steps towards realizing my dream.

There's this episode of Scrubs where at the end Dr. Cox says to JD, "You love being a doctor, don't you? Don't forget that." I feel it's the same for me. I truly love writing. It's truly my calling. And I must not forget, because the world will try to wear me down.

I intend to climb out of this hole and stay out, this time.

My car's probably gone...

Tonight is a sad night for me. Not as sad as when Dave passed away, of course, b ut sad nevertheless.

Originalyl I had planned on going to the chess club but I didn't feel like going out, tonight. So, around 8:30 I sat down to watch the extras on the Scrubs Season 4 DVD. (I'm totally in love with J.D. on Scrubs, but that's another post altogether)

As I was about to start watching a discussion of who the Janitor really is, I heard a tremendous crash outside. I looked out the window to see what had happened. That's when I saw it. My car. In the middle of the street. The front smashed in.

So I ran outside without even putting on shoes. This guy was sitting in a black car wher emy car used to be. "Am I on fire?" he said.

"Your car's smoking. What happened?"

"I looked away for a minute. Damn it... I just stopped paying attention for one minute... I didn't know there was anything there."

Now, my car was parked right in front of my house until this guy hit it. He must have been going really fast and been way too close to the curb because it had spun out just as bad as when Dave and I got hit on the freeway that time.

Anyway, so he called the cops so they could come down and take a report. Which they did. They wanted to push my car out of the middle of the road, but it wouldn't start and wouldn't even go into neutral--the gear was totally jammed.

Which means my car is pretty much toast. It's totaled. Again. Fortunately, I wasn't in it, and fortunately the guy had enough decency to stick around.

None of that is really the point though... the thing is that this car was the symbol of my relationship with Dave... it was him, me and the car... and exactly four months after his death, the car gets destroyed.

I feel terrible. The last thing Dave did on this earth was send me my car. And for what? So it can be destroyed four months later?

It's so weird... in LA things like this are bound to happen. But here I'm parked in front of my house on a quiet little street where there's never any traffic, and the car gets totaled. I just don't get it.

I'm having weird thoughts like, Dave died and then four months later the car's gone, so I'm the only one left... four months from now I could be destroyed too... I haven't done enough with my life... I hope I have more than four months.

Anyway, my dad thinks i should just get a new car. He'll pay the loan on it. Damn it, I didn't want to do that. Besides being the symbol of our relationship, the car was... well, Dave was so proud of me for fighting the system and getting it out of salvage because it meant it was mine, free and clear. I didn't want to get into a new loan...

This sucks. This really sucks.

They say God can work miracles, so I guess the only thing to do right now is pray...

Decision time

I've been thinking a lot about my future career plans. I came out here to become a teacher. That's not really happening... it seems as if it's as hard to get a teaching job here as it is in LA.

Well, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I really want to become a teacher. I mean, I like the idea of working with autistic kids. And I know that teaching would be a meaningful career... I wouldn't feel like I felt at Kinko's, like my brain was underutilized and my work ethic and talents unappreciated.

But do I really want to be a teacher, or was it jsut that i couldn't stand something as meaningless as Kinko's?

I've been working a little bit on my writing, and remembering how much I want to be a writer. Over the past 9 years, I've had the same thoughts from time to time: why do I have to fit into the normal world? Why can't I just write?

In the past, the answer was obvious: You're not published, you're not disciplined enough, you're not even trying, really... who are you kidding? Besides, everyone knows that you can't support yourself as a writer. Deal with reality: almost all writers have a day job. You might as well get one you like.

But now I'm not so sure.

Since I moved to North Carolina, I've done the following with my writing:

* Submitted my story, Disillusionment, to 25 magazines while keeping a list of 25 others in reserve in case I don't get published.

* Written and submitted a story to the local newspaper's Christmas contest

* Rewritten about 85% of my novel.

* Bought the Writer's Market and begun seriously thinking about getting an agent for the novel.

* Joined the North Carolina Writers Network

And so I can no longer say that I'm not trying to become a published writer.

Thinking it over a little more, I wonder how much of my decision not to actively pursue writing has been based on fear rather than practicality... that nagging voice that says, Who are you kidding? YOU a successful writer? Ha! For many years I've wanted to be a professional writer... and for many years I've thought it was impossible and so I haven't tried.

In LA it was impossible, even though supposedly I was in the land of writers (screenwriters, at least). There was no money... I couldn't afford lofty dreams.

But now I have $10,000 in the bank thanks to my student loan. If I'm going to pursue writing whole-heartedly, the time is now.

I'm not sure yet what that means. I'm not going to do anything rash--I'll finish out my classes, get my teaching license, etc. But I'm going to give up my fear of failure and do everything I can to make it as a writer.

I'm really excited to be part of the North Carolina Writers' Network. They have conferences twice a year where I'll be able to meet other writers, agents, and editors. I can advertise through their newsletter to get side jobs as a writing tutor, a proofreader, an editor... maybe even start a small business to help writers get their work submitted. In the meantime, I'll finish revising my novel and get it ready for editors and agents at the Spring conference this May.

I feel strong as I think this through, as if I've at last solved something that was confusing and bothering me.

Dave would have been so proud of me. I remember he once told me that people can see and be proud from Heaven. I hope he was right.

Exercise night

I just spent two hours roller skating... I feel so good now. I need to find a way to exercise like this more often.

I lost 3 lbs this week too... this is a vast improvement over the past two weeks. I gained a pound last week because of overeating at Thanksgiving :( Well, actually, I was fine on Thanksgiving itself. The next day, there was this get-together at my grandmother's. My grandma is quite a controlling person, which always makes get-togethers with her uncomfortable to begin with. I went with my mom to pick out the bagels and side dishes we would be having, but somehow that didn't help. I think part of it was that my grandma was staring at me when I put food on my plate, which led me to take more food than I really needed.

Anyway, so this week I lost the pound I had gained plus two more!!! I will have lost 10% of my original body mass when I lose another pound.

I'm so proud of me...

Just checking in

I've become very busy lately, which is a good thing... although whenever I work towards the life I mean to ilve, I feel the emptiness of Dave not being there to share it with.

Anyway, what I've been busy with mostly is literature. Literature and writing. I'm celebrating tonight because I entered a story in the Fayetteville Observer's annual Christmas contest. It took me two weeks to write, although most of that two weeks was spent realizing that what I was writing wasn't getting anywhere. Then yesterday I woke up knowing where to start my story. I sat down and wrote it.

The story had to be 1000 words or less (the hard part for me, since I'm used to writing stories that go on for at least ten pages. Also, my training at USC was in very literary stories, where "stage directions" are primary--having characters take small but character-revealing actions is considered more important than dialogue or even plot. Most of the two weeks I spent not writing the story were spent excising unnecessary actions.) and be holiday related.

My story is, essentially, a Christmas dinner in a hosue where the father has just died. (Give you three guesses what my inspiration for that was.) At said dinner, the mother reveals she is pregnant with her late husband's child, to the delight of everyone except her 11-year-old daughter. I am so, so tempted to post an excerpt from the ending but I'm going to wait... if it wins it'll get published in the Christmas Eve edition of the Fayetteville Observer and then I can scan it in its entirety. (Not that I've given most of it away with this description or anything.)

In between working on this story, I've been revising my novel. I've rewritten about 3/4 of it. I've made the dialogue tighter, cut irrelevant action (again), and played with my sentence structure. It began as a literary novel... I'm trying to retain some elements of literariness (for lack of a better word), while making it more traditional. My goal is to have it be truthful, have it say what I want it to say, but be a novel rather than a longish "portrait" of a family in crisis. I'm fairly happy with what I'm achieving thus far, although I'm dreading working on the final chapters... towards the end I got tired of writing, I think, and rushed to finish the damn thing. I'd been writing about a year, and I wanted it to be finished so Dave could read it. Well, he never got to read it, but now it's dedicated to his memory... and so I have to make the effot I didn't make then and get those final chapters right.

Yesterday I bought the Writer's Market from amazon.com so I can actually go ahead and work towards getting it published once it's ready. I've got the ghost of an idea for a second novel, too, waiting to be put to paper once I finish this one. (And of course, it would be nice if I finished Elsie Worthing one of these days)

While I've been writing, I've also gone back to reading. I spent the last couple of weeks rereading Crime and Punishment. I read this when I was 10 years old. I doubt I understood most of it, but I liked it. I had borrowed a video adapation from the library. In addition to being the very first borrowed tape that actually played in my VCR (woo-hoo!), it was a fairly well-done movie, and it got me curious about the novel. So I took it out of the library.

I have some thoughts about it that I'll put into an essay version sometime... in the meantime, suffice it to say that it was good for waking my brain up.

I also reread My Name is Asher Lev this week (another book that I read as a young child and loved). Asher Lev is the story of a gifted artist who is born into a Hasidic Jewish family. It traces his childhood and adolescence, growing up with a religious father who wants his son to be a "normal" boy who can carry on the missionary tradition he has dedicated his life to and a loving but sometimes depressed mother, who never quite recovered from her brother's sudden death in a car crash during a mission.

There were so many interesting and sad things about this book... but one thing that struck me was the notion of "incompleteness". Asher's mother goes back to school to become a Russian teacher so that she can complete the work her brother left behind. His father returns to being a missionary so he can complete the work his own father left undone.

It made me think... perhaps lives intersect in a kind of relay race, where one person starts something but leaves it undone... another person, a person he or she was close to, is supposed to pick up the mantle and keep going with it.

I know that Dave sparked so many things in me... he taught me to drum, to cook, to play basketball, to pray, to be part of a team. I think it is for me to pick up where he left off with so many things.

I've been practicing the drums daily as always, and for the first time today I was able to play a five stroke roll (the first rudiment). I want to play in a church band someday... I just feel as if that's part of what I'm supposed to complete.

I've been feeling Dave's spirit nearby a lot lately. He's near me... he's with me... I know it.

Just as I know that I'm going to be a published writer soon, one way or the other.

I won this ribbon tonight at Toastmasters. It's the first ribbon I've won... well, I won one for Best Speaker once, but I was the only one speaking that night so it didn't really count.

Tonight I got chosen to speak on the Table Topic of "something I am to blame for." I didn't like that topic because it made all sorts of things run through my head that I didn't really want there... things like a voice demanding why I took Dave for granted and whether he really knew I loved him at the end. I did not want to go there. Not tonight.

So instead I talked about why I don't like the word "blame". "Blame suggests guilt, the feeling that I did something wrong, that I ought to be ashamed of," I said. I then explained how I've struggled with perfectionism... I'm often too hard on myself, and have only recently learned to "forgive myself, the way God forgives me."

Then I went on to talk about responsibility. I talked about being the author of my own life, of always having choices, of always being able to improve. I talked about the importance of living a life I could be proud of.

I ended my speech ten seconds before the upper time limit. I knew I was going to win before they even called for a vote. It was easily the best, and truest, speech I'd ever given.

Tihs was the bright spot in an otherwise very strange day. It wasn't a bad day... it's just that things are not quite going right. When driving the two blocks to Toastmasters, my oil light flashed on and then went off. I don't know what that means, but I suppose I should take the car in tomorrow.

I have places I need to go so I need a working car. But, more than that, it was always an important part of the team. Me, Dave, and the car. One of the last things he ever did was get the car to me. If anything happens to this car it'll be a real loss... I'll be the only member of the team left. The car was important to Dave and important to me.

When I came home, I found my toilet clogged and not responding to my plunger. Time to call a plumber...

And all of a sudden my ear has started hurting. I don't know if it's a reaction to flying twice in four days or if I'm sick. If it doesn't go away, that will have to be checked too.

It's not always easy being responsible. I'm trying to make the life I want, and I'm laughing at all these tiny mishaps... but I could do without problems when I'm trying to get everything together.

Drum lesson (and other adventures in timing)

This entire evening has been strangely off-time.

I left for my drum lesson at 6:15. I set my burglar alarm (which I had installed today so that I won't worry about my drum set--or anything else--while I'm traveling for Thanksgiving) and left. I stopped to check the mail outside--one piece of junk mail one rejection slip from a magazine I didn't really expect to be interested in Disillusionment.

No sooner did I reach the car but my alarm went off. Apparently I had been thinking about the mail and had not closed the front door all the way. Fortunately, ADT doesn't respond to stray alarms until after a few days have passed, so that people can get used to their systems--I stood out there for five minutes before I realized the annoying alarm sound was coming from my house. (In retrospect, it's a good thing I have the alarm--otherwise I wouldn't have realized the door was open and driven off).

I went back inside, turned off the alarm, looked more closely at my junk mail, reset the alarm, and tried again. This time the door closed all the way.

I couldn't find the directions to my drum teacher's house, but I was pretty sure I knew the way. I started out fine. I thought I had to make a left on a little street called Water's Edge, which is nearly impossible to see in the dark. This street is on a very curvy, very not-lit road. Worse, there was construction halfway down the road. Lanes had to merge so that traffic going the other way could use the free lane. Their side of the road was closed.

So I did this, and drove and drove and drove, and passed a bunch of stores I didn't remmeber having seen before, and thought I was coming to Water's Edge soon, and drove some more, and came to a huge supermarket and realized I had gone way too far.

So I turned off the road and went into the supermarket lot and turned around. Unfortunately, I have a poor sense of direction (in case the above paragraph failed to enlighten anyone about this.) I turned the wrong way out of the supermarket and ended up on some pebbled private driveway.

I backed out very carefully, since I couldn't see which side of the road was which, and turned around again. This time I was determined not to miss Water's Edge.

At about 7:05 PM (five minutes after my lesson was supposed to begin), I made it all the way back to where I had gotten on this road in the first place. I had a feeling I should call and ask for directions. Instead I went through the light in case I had gone the wrong way.

Since I recognized absolutely nothing, I realized I was lost, and finally called. I found out I was supposed to make a right on Water's Edge, and that it was right where the construction began. I made it to my lesson within five minutes, thinking about how funny it was that I had been right there all the time and not known it.

My lesson went very well, however. My teacher said he can tell I've been practicing because I'm much improved from last week. He then asked me what I thought the drummer's main role in a band was. Without hesitation, I said, "To anchor the musicians so that everything is played at the right time." I had heard Dave say this so many times that it automatically came to me. My teacher really liked that way of putting it... I hope Dave was listening up there in Heaven, because he always felt supremely honoured that my teachers would say the same sort of things he said, as if he didn't realize that he knew things.

Anyway, we worked on timing during this lesson (ha!), because my teacher said that the main mistake beginning drummers make is wanting to do all sorts of fancy stuff and not paying attention to their timing. (I think Dave told me that more than once, too...) My teacher was so impressed with my ability to play in time to the exercises he gave me that he lost track of time and let the lesson run over by ten minutes.

I have a lot of homework exercises, which is good because next week is Thanksgiving, so I won't have a lesson. I have to continue practicing my buzz rolls and double strokes as well as the new exercises we went over today. I don't quite know how I'm going to fit it all in to the half-hour I allot myself for practicing homework exercises... I may have to do an hour a day even though my inner 16-year-old whines and complains and wants to practice actual music instead... it's a struggle sometimes to sit still through a whole practice session when it comes to those exercises.

As I drove home (going the right way this time, though at first I had my doubts...), I thought about how much of what Dave taught me was already integrated in me before I started taking lessons. The radio was playing classic rock, all the songs Dave loved, and I thought: even though he's gone, he's still part of my life, and he always will be. He taught me so much and meant so much to me that no matter what I do, his memory is there. I guess that's what people mean when they say that someone's spirit "lives on in your heart". I woud rather have him with me here on Earth, of course, but it doesn't hurt as much now to remember all the things he was associated with, for me. It's like visiting with him whenever I do.

When I got home, a big gust of wind blew just as I was parking. As I got out of my car, the screen door blew open, and stayed open--as if someone was opening it for me. I was laughing as I thanked God for holding the door.

Marcing to my own beat

I have been incredibly busy over the past two weeks. I'm exhausted but I've wanted to write in this blog for a while and now I'm making myself do it.

I've mainly been busy with two things: playing the drums, and revising my novel. Now that Disillusionment is in the mail, it's time to get the novel ready for submission too. I've reviewed four chapters, and rewritten the latter two so far. I'm pretty happy with how it's going. What I'm not happy about is I haven't had time to work on Elsie Worthing since I started this... I really want to finish the next chapter, plus I owe it to my fans who have been enthusiastically supporting every new chapter.

Now, the drums...

I've been playing almost non-stop. I started taking lessons last week. Each morning I play the exercises I have been assigned for at least half an hour. Then I play whatever music I feel like working on. I've learned two Jewel songs and have almost learned one of the Firefly songs. (I wish I could incorporate video into my blog so I could share the practices I videotaped this morning.)

Ruben asked me when I first got my drums if I would like to learn the Firefly songs that Dave was playing. He would like me to work with them eventually. I'm in two minds about this. I'm very honoured and want to do this eventually. But I don't have nearly enough skill yet, I don't think... it's taken me two weeks to learn this one song and I haven't learned the cymbal parts yet. Ruben commented tonight that he hoped I was learning fast... I hope I'm not too slow for him! I'm pleased with my progress, although I miss Dave every time I play the songs he was supposed to be playing. Tonight I'm playing the drum track as I surf the Internet. I'm hoping to get it into my subconscious so I can at last put the cymbals and bass/snare beats together tomorrow.

In the meantime, I had an argument with my therapist last Monday night over this whole issue of the drums. According to her, I'm not honouring Dave's memory by playing with Ruben and Delyana because she thinks he wanted to play and I don't really. "You don't honour Dave's mmemory by taking on his goals instead of your own," she said. "Your highest priority is to become a teacher."

I got really mad at her. I felt and feel that the whole time Dave and I were living together, we were attacked from all sides... everyone, some who cared and some who clearly didn't, tried to convince me that we didn't really love each other, that Dave was just using me, that I was doing wahtever he wanted and not "being myself". I had enough of that then. Now that he's gone, I don't need to hear it.

And I think about the choices I've made in the past few weeks and I wonder... I'm playing at least three hours a day and writing for another two. Schoolwork and job hunting sometimes feel like impositions. There are times when I wonder if I really and truly want to teach, and then I think that if I don't teach then Dave died for no good reason, because I came out here ahead of him when it wasn't necessary.

I don't think that it's that I don't want to teach, really. I do. But the thing is that I'm frustrated with the lack of success in my job search thus far. Also, the idea that teaching is my "highest priority" strikes me as false. It feels like my ride cymbal when I hit it too hard, jarring notes and making so much noise I can't hear all the other things I'm doing right. I want to teach and I think I can make a difference in kids' lives. But honestly, if God told me right now that he would either bless my teaching career or bless my writing career, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment before choosing writing. Just like I never hesitated for a moment when it came to my choosing Dave as my partner. Now, as then, I know exactly what I want and I refuse to give it up for anybody's stupid ideas of who I should be.

I want to teach because I want to make a difference in children's lives. But I want to write for the same reason.

And I wonder, too, exactly what it is that drives me about the drums. My teacher was impressed today that I practice every day. "Half an hour a day?" he said. "I'm usually lucky if I can get my students to practice half an hour a week!" That seems so strange to me... my days are generally spent practicing songs in front of my digital camera, then playing back the video, finding all the places where I'm out of time, and going back and trying again. The batteries in my camera die about once every 24 hours because I'm using them so much.

It's true I have to discipline myself to do my exercises, but I also know that I have to do them in order to get better. My teacher doesn't know yet that I spend a lot of free time playing songs. He says that I have to start with these exercises, and eventually I'll be able to play actual music. I must have absorbed in my blood what Dave so often told me, about how when he was first starting out he practiced his lesson for half an hour a day and then was free to work on whatever music he wanted.

Anyway, I've never played anything obsessively like this. When I'm not playing, I'm either writing or listening to music so I can absorb the drum tracks. Tonight on the way home from my lesson, I was practicing the new stroke I was learning on the steering wheel at red lights. It's almost midnight now, and that means it's way too late to play, but sitting at the computer writing this is the only thing that keeps me from giving in to the urge to try Firedancing Butterflies one more time, just to see if I've absorbed enough from listening to the drum track yet.

I keep wondering if this is healthy. I don't think I would if it wasn't for what my therapist had said, and I know I'm not just imitating Dave, because I wouldn't feel this compulsion to play if that's all it was. But I wonder... am I really in love with the drums? Or am I trying to escape from the emptiness in this house where Dave was supposed to be by getting into the music?

It's at times like this that I miss Dave the most. He had a way of knowing what I felt and knowing what to say to make me shift into thinking clearly. Oh, I would get really irritated when he was too quick to tell me what to do instead of listening. But I miss our endless conversations now.

Well, I had hoped to uplaod at least one of my videos to Photobucket by now, but for some reason everytime it's about to upload, Internet Explorer suddenly fails to find the server and I have to start again. I have a dull ache behind my eyes, as if I am straining them too much. So I suppose that will have to wait for another day.

I have so much more to say but that too will wait...

Checking In

It's been a while since I've had a chance to write. I've meant to for the last three days, actually, but somehow I haven't found the time.

Most of the last two weeks have been extremely productive. The day before yesterday, however, was not... I did manage to play the drums for a few hours, but other than that I got virtually nothing done. I don't remember what it was I spent my time on. Playing games, most probably.

Anyway, that night I dreamed that Unilove called me and said, "Dave wants you to succeed." That's all I remember. I've dreamed of Dave often, both when he was on earth and afterwards... never of anyone else connected with him.

Yesterday I spent half the day playing the drums. I've learned a new beat. I went out, did a few errands, came back, installed my new copy of Sims Pets, and played for several hours.

I bought a journal the day before yesterday, expressly for the purpose of setting goals and achieving them. In Chasing Down the Dawn, Jewel talks about the process of "manifesting dreams--that is, writing down a goal and the daily actions required to achieve it.

The first goal I chose is a long-term one, and an important one. My goal is to spend Christmas 2007 in London. I've always wanted to see England, especially London, probably because I grew up watching British television and my favourite series of novels is Harry Potter, which takes place in England. Dave and I had talked about visiting it "someday". I guess now it's up to me to make "someday" real.

Anyway, as i said, my goal is to spend Christmas 2007 in London. More specifically, I plan to visit London from December 23, 2007-January 2, 2008. This morning I achieved the first daily task I had set myself. I did some research on-line to find out how much this would cost.

I would have to stop-over either in New York or Boston, so I might as well plan to visit my parents for the week-end of Dec. 21-23rd and then fly to London early on the 23rd. It looks like this is the cheapest option; with hotel fare and a few sightseeing passes, it comes to about $2500.

My next task will be to open a savings account this coming Monday and transfer $1000 of my loan money in as a starter.

After that, I'm not sure yet... I know I need to earn the rest of the money. I probably have enough in my loan money, but I need to save most of that for daily expenses (and drum lessons should I ever find a teacher, but that's another issue... the teacher I was referred to at the music store isn't returning my phone calls as of yet)

I need to get a teaching job (so what else is new?). Im not sure what else to do to get one, and I have no idea how to break that down into daily tasks. I call the HR representative every Monday. I also call in to Adecco in case they have any temping work for me. I guess I can look in the classified ads as well...

Well, maybe I'm thinking too narrowly. Maybe I have to have several options as to how to earn money. (Of course if I publish my novel and it becomes a best-seller I won't have to worry about any of this, but I'm in the very beginning stages of that. Currently I have 25 copies of my short story out. According to Stephen King, you have to publish about 6 short stories in order to be looked upon as "serious" by agents and editors. OTOH, JK Rowling published Harry Potter without having published anything else at all, so I suppose revising the novel and submitting it on its own is worth a shot.)

Wow... my goal is growing... I have all these sub-goals I have to plan for. I think I should buy my own copy of the Writer's Market, since I had to give the library back theirs. It's time to begin working seriously towards publishing my novel AND towards getting a teaching job AND towards publishing my short stories...

And, oh yeah, I'm going to write a new story called Chasing Ghosts. I'm not quite sure of the details yet. Plus continue working on Elsie Worthing (which is NOT a waste of time despite being unpublishable other than on the Internet because of copyright issues) and continue studying the drums on my own.

I am going to be very busy starting this Monday...

Chasing ghosts

Boy has it been a long time since I've written in this blog. I have a legitimate excuse for last weekend, because my parents were here. I had a wonderful visit with them. I cooked for them two days out of three and the other day we went to Red Lobster. I'm really proud of myself because I skipped the 1170-calorie crab alfredo (which is what I REALLY wanted) and instead had the snow crab legs, potato, and broccoli, which was on my diet. I also had one piece of bread, which technically wasn't, but I ate it very slowly and made it last so I wouldn't have any more.

The last couple of days have been very strange for me. My emotions have been all over the place... yesterday morning I was in a great mood and last night I missed Dave so much I cried myself to sleep. I dreamed the night before last that he called and apologized to me for dying. I haven't dreamed about him in a while.

Yesterday morning I was writing a post to my on-line class discussion board and I mentioned this guy I knew in high school, who always made films for his class project. I liked him back then... so much so that I never talked to him, and senior year I found out that he liked me but thought I thought he wasn't good en ough for me. Well, so yesterday morning I was seized by this strange impulse to look him up, and I found his Friendster page almost right away.

It looks like we still have a lot in common... Harry Potter and books and music. He plays the trombone in a No Doubt tribute band and teaches Latin to high school students (I'm guessing at a Catholic school, although I don't think he's religious--his web site sounds as irreverent as he was in high school). I sent him a message. So far no response, although I don't know how often he checks his Friendster account, as the last comment he got on it appears to have been from 2005. I found out this morning he has a myspace page, which it looks like he updates every day, but I don't want to write him again right away in case he did get my Friendster message and didn't want to respond... I don't want to seem like a stalker or something. I'm going to wait a week and then message him through his myspace account if he doesn't respond to me. That way at least I'll know one way or the other.

Anyway, after I sent him the message I started thinking about things. I felt the same as I did when I was 17... like I really liked this guy but didn't know how to proceed and was sure he didn't want to hear from me after all this time. And then I wondered whether I ever would have looked him up if I hadn't lost Dave, and whether I really liked him or whether I was just trying to ease the loneliness... and then I felt like if anything did happen to develop it would be a betrayal of my memory of Dave even though Dave would have been happy for me--he never wanted me to feel tied down to him. He always said that as long as we stayed best friends he didn't care whether we stayed more than that.

Anyway, considering that I haven't gotten any answer yet at all it's silly to be thinking about all this...

It seems as if I am chasing ghosts... Dave's ghost and the ghost of a relationship that never was when I was 17.

I got my drums! (and some other news)

I got my drums today (as you can see). I was going to wait until after the week-end so that my parents wouldn't say anything about how much it cost. But one of my loan checks cleared yesterday, and it was way more than enough to pay off the balance on the drums. I was tired of playing on desks... I wanted to hear how I actually sounded. And I decided that I'm NOT feeling guilty about buying the drums. Technically, the loan money is my money (although I think I'm really supposed to use it for education-related expenses...), and I think I did the right thing by getting these for myself... I wanted to keep going with the gift Dave had begun in me. Drumming is a good outlet for me too when I feel like I can't sit still or when I'm upset about something.

Anyway, since I'm not ashamed of having bought the drums, I see no reason to keep them secret. My parents can be upset about it if they want, but I don't expect them to be. At the most, they'll probably tell me not to spend any more of my loan money on big-ticket items.

I'd never put a drum set together myself before. Dave had told me it was important to know how to do it so that you can set up at gigs and again when you get home, but he'd never pushed the issue... I'd helped him set up but he mainly told me where everything went.

The main thing, for me, was remembering where all the pieces go... I knew enough to know that you sit behind the bass drum and snare, but beyond that I wasn't sure. Luckily the drums came with instructions--I kept looking at the pictures to get an idea of what should go where. I had trouble putting my snare on its stand and I put my hi-hat clutch on upside down at first but eventually I got it together.

I have a small "porch" off my living room... there's a door that goes directly outside and the other door goes back into the living room. That's where I put the drums. They took up a bit more space than I thought they would... mainly, the problem was that in order to have room to play the bass drum I had to move it forward more than I wanted to. Right now my CD player is just a little in front of the bass drum... I may move it because it's not great for the sound, but so far its working. I also took the set of plastic drawers that I'm not using for clothes out of my bedroom and put it in the drum room so I could have a place to keep my drum key and tools, as well as the instruction booklets and spare batteries for the CD player. I didn't have a place for the cymbal bag that came with my cymbals, but for now I slid it behind the set of drawers. I also put a fan in the room--it's closer to outside, which makes it hotter, and drumming can make me hot!

I wish the room was just a little bigger so I could take a picture of the whole thing. Unfortunately the wall between the living room and the drum room is in the way... if this was a Sims 2 house I would be using the build tools to get rid of the friggin' wall! I can't get my drums all in one shot, to my disappointment... I had to take the picture on top of this post from the side.

It's 8:30 now so it's a little late for playing :( I did get a chance to play a little earlier. I tested out the CD and drums. It sounds so good to play real drums, as opposed to tapping on the desk. The snare is rattling a little. Tomorrow I'll look on-line for informatin about tuning so I can take care of that.

I can't wait to begin lessons. They gave me a phone number at the music store. Next week I'll call and see if I can make arrangements. I hope it's not too expensive. I'd better find a job SOON if I want to keep this up...

In the meantime, as I said, my parents are visiting for the week-end. They're leaving early tomorrow morning and plan to be here in the evening sometime (They're driving because they want to bring me my grandpa's rowing machine, which got donated to them and which I want to use.) If they get here early enough, they'll eat dinner with me. I'm planning on making a vegetable lasagna and another banana bread pudding tomorrow. I haven't planned my menus for the rest of the week-end. On Saturday we may go to the movies or the mall or something. I was going to take them to Red Lobster (across the street from the music store) one evening. There's also a really nice-looking Chinese restaurant next door to the music store. Chinese food is my absolute favourite... too bad it's s high in calories! I still have leftovers from last Sunday because I'm being very careful about my portion sizes.

In addition to getting the drums, I got out another 5 submissions today. I'm running out of printer paper so I will have to get some more before I can go on with the submissions process--I'm reprinting my manuscript each time, which is probably a waste of ink but is far better quality than I can get off the copy machines at Staples. I'm hoping to get out 10 submissions tomorrow since I doubt I'll be stopping by the Post Office while my parents are here. That'll bring the grand total to 18... I want to get a total of 25 out.

Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day because I want to finish cleaning up before my parents get here, plus I want to get caught up on my homework. So far I've cleaned the kitchen and bathroom. I feel so much better living in a clean environment... I was so proud of the kitchen I took a picture of it:















Tomorrow I plan on straightening the bedroom and computer room. I need to get rid of a bunch of papers that are lying around looking messy. I also want to clean out the inside of my car. It's FILLED with papers. I can just hear what Dave would say if he were here... "Come on, Professor," he'd say. "I'm gone for two months and you let your car get like that? What's wrong with you?"

Here's another picture of the drums to round out this post. I finally figured out how to get the whole set into the shot, although I don't see any way I could get myself into the picture because I have to hold the camera up to do this. Of course, you can't quite see the snare, but this gives you a sense of how beautiful this set is. I wish it wasn't so late so I could go play...

A cat tale and other news

The cat came by yesterday and tried to adopt me. I feel so bad that I have a no-pets policy in my lease... if it were up to me I would adopt this cat...

It was raining really hard over the past couple of days. I had hoped the cat had found someplace dry. But when I came back from finishing some grocery shopping, he was meowing on the porch. Since it was wet and nasty out, I decided to let him in.

And he didn't ever want to leave...

As it was, even though I fed him in the kitchen, he kept following me in and out as I took my groceries in from the car. He would eat if I was in the kitchen, but as soon as I went away from that room, he followed me, meowing hungrily. I added some leftover flounder to his bowl of shredded cheese (I had not realized I was out of tuna and so did not buy any).

When it dried up, I decided it was time to get the cat back outside where he belonged. He did not want to go. He followed me willingly if I went out, but he slipped back in as soon as I turned around to go in. He was chasing a flashlight beam across the house but would not chase it outside... he turned away every time the beam went near the door. Finally I put his food outside. He hesitated for a long time before he finally went.

When I came back from Toastmasters, he was meowing at the door again. This time I put his food outside to begin with, but he didn't eat it. He just looked at the door until I went in.

He didn't come back today but his food was gone. I feel torn because I love the cat and wish he could be my pet but I know I can't really have a cat. I hate it when I do what I'm supposed to and keep him out and then he disappears for several weeks, no doubt looking for someone who will really adopt him. And I know Dave would ignore the lease and let him in anyway. I used to be that way too. That's how I ended up with Kitty. But now I'm supposedly more mature and so I do what I "should" do even though I feel bad about it.

In the meantime, I bought myself a CD player to go with the drumset I will soon be getting. I have a back room that is currently empty. When my parents come I think they're bringing me a rowing machine, which will also go in that back room. I'm planning on putting the drums there and using the CD player for the music I'll be practicing with.

If all goes according to plan, I'll have my drums next Monday! I can't wait! I'm so tired of practicing using my sticks on the desk. For one thing, the fan I'm using as a hi-hat falls off the desk if I hit it too much and that messes my timing up altogether. Plus I can't hear the bass sound when I'm just tapping my foot. Plus the drums were such an important part of my life with Dave... I know he'll be watching me from heaven as I learn. I feel closer to his memory just having bought 5A nylon-tipped sticks like he always used.

Chapter Five of Elsie Worthing has FINALLY been published. Also, I sent out my first three copies of Disillusionment today. I want to get about 25 copies into circulation. I'm hoping to get about 5 out per day. I am going to get published. I can feel it. Maybe even one of these first three will bite, although of course I'm going to get all 25 out so I have the best chances.

I've started getting up early again... it is as if I am starting to remember who I am.

A short note

I've been really busy lately, I guess, because I haven't had much time for blogging.

I put a down payment on a drum set last week. It's a Tama Superstar 5-piece set, all white. For some reason I can't find the right picture online--I can only get the picture of the blue set (which I didn't get because it was too expensive, and also because the white drums remind me of Dave).

I can't wait until I get my drums. I bought a pair of sticks--nylon tips, 5A's. I wanted to get the wooden brushes like Dave used to use on the beach, b ut they didn't seem to know what they were.

The store I went to was interesting. From the outside it looks like almost nothing... a small brick building that makes you think there won't be much of anything inside. But when you walk in it seems much bigger... like a regular music store. They keep the sticks behind the counter, which is a little irritating because I personally like to look at all the sticks. Dave taught me how to roll them to see if they're good, something which I forgot until this very moment when my sticks almost rolled off my desk. But I know these are--unless I've messed them up by playing almost non-stop.

I feel a connection to Dave's memory through the music... he was teaching me to play and I want to keep it up. I also really like playing the drums. I'd forgotten how much I'd loved it... I stopped listening to music for a while and I certainly didn't have any sticks in my hands. I re-taught myself the beats Dave had taught me, and also learned some new beats from the Internet. I can play a swing beat now, which I'm really proud of because the website I got it from claimed it was a hard beat and recommended "coming back to it" if you didn't get it right away. Needless to say, I didn't take that advice. I've been using chairs and fans and whatever I can find as high hats and desks and tables and softer chairs as snares. I can't wait until my loan check clears so I can pay off the balance on my drums! I want to hear wht I really sound like, on a real kit, with cymbals instead of the top of a metal chair.

In the meantime, the job hunt continues. I got a call from Lumberton yesterday, asking me to come in on Monday to discuss working as a teacher's aide. I've been pretty persistent... the HR person there doesn't accept the new law stating that you can teach with a BA in psychology even if you don't have 24 units yet, but I've been e-mailing him to ask about other positions fairly regularly. I guess it paid off, because he finally called. He doesn't seem to remember that he met me last summer, which isn't a great sign, but he seems interested in finding me something since I'm insisting on looking in his district, which is a good sign. Lumberton isn't too far, about half an hour away.

I hope I get something soon... I'm tired of not working, of living off student loans and parental help when I'm used to being financially independent. I'm trying to learn to be more responsible for the things I want to achieve. I want to find a way to stop hoping to get something and get something, but I'm not quite sure yet how to do that.

Good day

I took a picture of my favourite tree through the window earlier today. I was too lazy to go outside... tomorrow maybe I'll do that.

This tree is gorgeous. More than that, it symbolizes life and hope for me. I know if Dave was still here he would love this tree. He probably would have taken a chair outside and sat down by it all the time. As for me, looking at it makes me feel happier... I remember that there's still beauty in this world.



Tonight was Toastmasters again, today being Monday. I had planned a speech about "recapturing who we are meant to be". I had meant to talk generally about the need to stay in the present and to figure out our purpose. But, as I practiced it at home earlier, it went in a different direction. I ended up talking about how I was too focused on the future when I lived in LA, how i was so eager to get on with my life that I forgot to appreciate what--and who--I had in front of me. How sorry I was after Dave passed away that I didn't verbalize how important he was to me during the last months we were together. How I almost fell, then, into the other trap of living in the past, of wishing those last months had been different.

When I got up to do my speech tonight, I still wasn't sure this was what I wanted to talk about, because it somehow didn't sound like it went with the title/subject of my speech. Really I think I was just scared to talk about something so personal.

But I did it. I was nervous, and when I talked about Dave I could feel the tears come but I still was able to move forward.

Afterwards, as always, in my head I didn't do well. I only spoke for 6 minutes (it was a 5-7 minute speech), I thought I jumped around too much, and I was sure I repeated myself too much.

And again I got an outstanding evaluation. A different evaluator this time, but he spoke about how meaningful my speech was, how organized, how powerful. Again, the only criticism was that I need to let go of the lectern and move around some. It's weird cause when I was practicing at home I was moving all over the place but once I got up there, it was all I could do not to forget my opening sentence.

In the meantime, I got my large student loan today. $12,500! I know I need to hold onto some of that money in case I have a problem with my tuition next semester or something. I'm thinking about buying myself a drum set. I want to keep learning what Dave had started teaching me. The only thing holding me back is that my dad co-signed the loan, and I'm afraid he'll be upset with me for taking out a loan on something "non-essential". It's not that I need his approval, but that I don't like to argue or have problems, especially when things have been better the last several months.

I've been thinking about the drums a lot lately. I miss playing. My new expansion packs for Sims 2 include various instruments for the Sims to play, inclouding the drums, bass, guitar, and piano. I love it when I get my Sims to jam together. Yesterday one of them started playing the beats Dave taught me and I almost fell out of my seat... I need to start playing again.

I have a bunch of things to do tomorrow, but I found out where there's a music store. Maybe after I deposit my check I can go look and get an idea of what I want and how much it'll cost. The check won't have cleared yet anyway so I won't be able to buy them just yet.

In the meantime, this lady I met at Toastmasters tonight told me that there's positions for Autistic Classrooms in her school, and gave me the principal's name. I'm going to call him tomorrow. He has the same ffirst name as my brother, which is odd because my brother has a very unusual first name.

In any case, we'll see. Things are looking up...

October

Well, it's October now. There's a gorgeous, orange-leaved tree outside my bedroom window.

October is usually my favourite month. Of course, this year I have mixed feelings because had Dave survived he would have come out here this month... we probably would have been together today. I dreamed about him last night, dreamed that he was here with me but he wasn't sure how much time he had. When I woke up, I thought that in my dream he was the way he was meant to be, and that must be how he is in Heaven.

Anyway, a new month always means a new chance to start over. I'm getting frustrated with my kitchen. When I opened the refrigerator door to get a banana earlier, not one but BOTH of my containers of pre-sliced green onions fell out and spilled all over the floor. I cleaned them up as best as I could, but it's yet another mess to clean up. In the meantime, I have dishes in the sink waiting to be put into the dishwasher, the dish towel fell off the rack onto the floor, the floor is a mess... again, and someone stole my outside trash can so I have to put full trash in the backyard until I can get a new can from the city.

Dave would not have been happy with how I keep the kitchen and, truthfully, neither am I. I have discovered that I like to cook, but I do NOT like to cook in a messy kitchen.

I'm making a banana bread pudding right now. I'm going to have a slice after dinner, which will be a veggie burger on a half bagel. I appear to be 90% vegetarian all of a sudden, mainly because I'm too lazy to cook meat or fish very often and anyway I'm supposed to eat a lot of fruits and vegetables. It seems easier to accomplish this if I get 3 or 4 veggies in one shot (i.e a vegetable burger, a vegetable lasagna or manicotti).

I just looked over my food diary for this past week, and other than one slice of roast beef on a sandwich, I haven't eaten any meat at all. I didn't really set out to be vegeterian, but it does seem to be healthier.

Anyway, my banana bread pudding is done! Here's a picture:
















It's got bananas and French bread on the inside. It came out REALLY good... I'm going to send my mom the recipe so that she can make it for Thanksgiving.

I can't believe something like this is actually on my diet! It's perfect for my chocolate cravings... as long as I keep it to ONE piece at a time, which I did. I had to think long and hard in order to come up with a dinner that was healthy, fit all the requirements for my diet, and let me have a piece of this pudding. One piece is 4 points, and I had 10 points left. That meant I had to skip the idea of having something with a side of the pasta salad I made yesterday, because the salad itself was 7 points. Then I realized that I was short a milk. I went through about ten menus in my head. I even considered putting the pudding away until tomorrow but I wasn't willing to do that when I made it today... I wanted my first slice to be warm. I considered using some of my 35 bonus points so I could have the dessert AND the pasta, but I decided that I didn't want to do that because I didn't want to risk not losing weight this week. (Technically you're allowed to use as many of your bonus points as you'd like--you can add 5 points a day to your diet if you wish--but more points means more calories so it's less likely you'll lose the weight if you do that.) I considered skipping my second milk so I could have the frozen dinner I wanted, which would have been 6 points. And on and on and on, until finally I came up with the idea of the half-bagel for my veggie burger and a slice of cheese.

I've lost 4 pounds in the last three weeks. After this week I will have been on Weight Watchers an entire month. It'll feel good to have lost 5-6 pounds, which is a quarter of my initial goal. (Plus be out of the 190+ range, finally...)

Anyway, I should stop here because I want to finish my outline for the speech I'm giving tomorrow before Desperate Housewives comes on.

Trying to be patient

I had a job interview yesterday. I couldn't tell whether the interviewer liked me or not. It was for a job teaching Behavioral Emotional Disorder kids at a high school. Like all the other interviews I've been on, it started with a description of the job and then "So tell me about yourself."

Since I've joined Toastmasters, I feel a little more confident with this question. I said I had just moved here from LA to teach and told the whole story of how I found NCTEACH and all that. He asked me why I wanted to teach special ed... oh, if only I'd told him about the passion I have for it. I talked about working with ADHD students and wanting to work with autistic students, which I don't think he liked because he felt obliged to point out that these students are not autistic. Then he talked about how all the teachers help each other and how the kids are not stupid, just disabled (like I didn't know that). then he asked me if I had any questions. I asked him if there's mentoring/training for new teachers, and he said that they pair you with a seasoned teacher, then he went into this long thing about how people are afraid to ask him questions because they don't want him to think they don't know how to do their job, but e wants people to ask...

And that was it.

Today I haven't heard anything. From him or from the HR director.

I want to be working already. I feel like I'm never going to have a job. I'm tired of living off my dad's money when I've been independent for three years. I know it took my sister a year to find a law job, and so I just have to keep trying. But I am so impatient...

If Dave were here he'd just tell me to be patient and let God open the right door for me, and just him saying it would calm me down. It's so much harder to say it to myself.

Checkin' in

I didn't do much today. I decided to take the day off... I could have done some writing or worked on my magazine list but I somehow ended up playing Sims 2 all day. I'm creating a new neighborhood, which I named Hogsmeade after the wizarding village in Harry Potter (the one that older students are allowed to visit on certain weekends). I'm creating families named after some of the Harry Potter characters... of course, there are limits because there are no wizards in Sims 2 (yet... maybe an expansion pack will come out one of these days) and so the characters just do everyday things. I made an extravagant mansion for the Malfoys, which appears to be sinking into the grass... it was built on a not-so-stable hill apparently. Serves them right for being Dark wizards, and greedy to boot. I played them for a minute so that i could furnish their house... there was so much space that I didn't know what to put. It's weird because usually I don't have enough room for everything I want or need. The Malfoys have too much room and half of it is empty because I ran out of objects. I used the familyfunds cheat to give them 600,000 Simeoleons to start with, so they can buy anything they want, but I don't know what that is yet...

Anyway, after that I made a house with Dumbledore and his younger brother, Aberforth, although it wouldn't allow me to make them brothers because Dumbledore is an Elder and his brother is not. So I had to say that Aberforth was his son. I also made the Dursleys and Harry. The game wouldn't allow me to create Harry without a parent so I had to put his mother in as well. And of course I made Elsie and her mother. I put her father in a separate house on the other side of town. Unfortunately there's no way to tell the game that they're related. I still want to make Snape (I surrounded his house with steam and blackened grass... he'll live in one of the other mansions in the rich section--I put a few mansions on one side of the neighborhood and affordable houses on the other), and Ginger and her parents, and perhaps the Weasleys. And Sirius Black. Then I need to build all the stores and stuff downtown. Then I can play!

I want to get the other expansion packs in this order: University, Open For Business, and Pets (when it comes out). I can also get the Glamour and Family Fun Stuff Paks eventually. Then maybe I'll have enough objects for the Malfoys!

In other news, it looks like I'm going to be employed soon. The HR director said she faxed my application to a high school principal who is looking for both a teacher and a teacher's assistant, as well as to someone else who is looking for a teacher's assistant. I'm nervous about teaching in a high school... I had wanted to teach elementary kids... but at this point I don't want to be too picky. I'll have to take whatever position comes along and trust God to help me do it.

Yesterday was Toastmasters again. I really really like that club. I was Table Topics Master this week, which meant that I had to come up with topics and pick people to talk on them. For one of my topics, I asked for someone to talk about a relationship that changed their life. I was thinking of Dave when I said that. This guy came up, this big Army guy, and he started talking about how his dad passed away a few months ago and it made him realize that you can't take life for granted. It was so weird how I had been inspired by my memory of Dave and this guy was talking about such a similar thing. Needless to say he won Best Table Topics. I had hoped to talk to him afterwards but he left before I could.

Afterwards I went to the library book club. It was kind of an uncomfortable experience, because we were discussing the story of Samson. The cllub is made up of mainly elderly people, so I always feel a little out of place there anyway. Yesterday was worse because without exception, every single one of them was focused on how this Biblical story was "a bunch of nonsense" that "no one intelligent could believe." I sat there fingering the cross charm on my necklace and wishing the meeting would end. I was afraid to say much of anything. I contributed one comment--when everyone was talking about how wrong it was for Samson to kill people in the name of God I said that it points out that war twists things out of shape so that right and wrong don't have their usual meanings. I was hoping to get people to realize that this was a war situation and not a simple matter of "It's OK to kill if you think God's behind it" (which ignores the Ten Commandments anyway), but all that happened was this old man looked at me and said, "And we've been doing it ever since," in a very sneering way. When the librarian in charge asked whether there was anything in the story that could apply to modern life, I was the only one who had anything to say. I talked about not being so caught up in love for another person that you ignore signs that they aren't good for you--Samson ignored Delilah's repeated attempts to find out how to destroy his power, as well as her manipulativeness because he loved her.

Gee, I guess my "wrong-headed" belief in God allowed me to actually get something out of the story, as opposed to trying to prove to everyone how stupid a story it was.

I'm surprised at my depth of anger about this. After Dave died for a while I didn't really want anything to do with God because I was so angry and confused about losing Dave. I still haven't fully reconciled that... the best I can do is to know that Dave's in heaven and that someday we will be together again. And yet somehow faith took root in me during the time I was with Dave. Sometimes I associate my belief in God with him because he was the first person to teach me who God really was and how all this works.

Anyway, leaving all that aside for the moment, my other news is that I've lost 4 pounds as of today. I was hoping to get my 5-pound bookmark, but I guess I will next week. At this rate I'm probably going to have lost 20 pounds or so by Thanksgiving. I've decided that once a month I'm going to take a picture of myself so that I can have a digital diary of my progress in this department.

My mom sent me a videotape of last week's Criminal Minds. I tried to watch it, but something's wrong with my new DVD/VCR. :( Even when I change over to VCR mode it stays in DVD mode. I know because I put a DVD in to test it, and the DVD was playing even when the machine was set for VCR. Pressing play on the VCR tape did nothing... the counter showed it was playing but the TV stayed stubbornly on the Zenith screen showing that there was no disc in the DVD player. Everything's plugged in right and the DVD player works fine. After an hour of fooling around with it, I gave up and flipped through channels instead. I ended up watching the end of Boston Legal, which to my surprise was actually good! I watched that show some with Dave last year, but more often than not it was silly, so I wasn't going to bother with this season.

Last but not least (I seem to be lacking in the transitions department tonight... I guess I'm a little tired), Chapter 4 of Elsie Worthing is now up. I'm going to try to work on Chapter 5 tomorrow... my original plan has now fallen by the wayside so I'm a little lost. Maybe I'd better write a new plan before I do anything else.

More adventures in cooking

I made manicotti tonight. It was an interesting experience... you were supposed to "shred" the zucchini, which irritated me, as I purposely bought pre-sliced zucchini to save myself some work. Anyway, shredding apparently just means cutting into thin slices, which is what I did.

The filling was fairly easy to make. You cook the vegetables, then mix in ricotta cheese, parmesean cheese, basil, and egg substitute. Egg substitute sure cooks fast when the pan was hot! It was almost burning by the time I found the mushrooms, which were in the wrong drawer...

The hardest part was filling the manicotti tubes, especially since by this time it was after 9 and I wanted to watch Desperate Housewives. I tried to fill them hurriedly during the commercial, which of course meant tubes were breaking and things were generally not working very well. After the first commercial I was able to put the manicotti in the oven, so I could enjoy the rest of the show.

This is the first time I've watched TV since I've moved here. Dave and I used to watch this every week... it was hard not to miss him, especially during the scene where Susan was begging her comatose boyfriend to wake up so that she wouldn't have to consider going out with someone else. I enjoyed it, though, except my antenna is as wacky as any of the various antennas we had in LA. If I moved the wrong way, the reception went out altogether. I can't wait until I'm working and I can afford to get cable.

Anyway the manicotti came out good... I could smell it after the show was over and it still had ten minutes to cook. I couldn't wait for the timer to ring. After I ate I put the leftovers in my new stay-fresh container. Naturally, one slipped off the spatula and landed in the dishwasher on top of the dirty dishes. I was planning on putitng the pan in there as soon as it was empty.

I'm good at dropping things. Earlier I wasted a dollar buying blackberries in the market. They fell all over the floor as I was leaving, and a bag boy took them to throw away.

I also don't know why I'm so tired. I slept all afternoon and I'm really tired again. I think maybe it's the high carb food... I haven't eaten pasta in a long time, but this was low-calorie so I figured I'd make an exception tonight.

I still have 7 points and one fruit/vegetable to eat before bed. Maybe I'm just not eating enough, as this seems to keep happening.

Saturday

I can't believe how long it's been since I last wrote. I also can't believe it's Saturday... again. Time goes so fast. It always scared me, before, how fast time went. It's so ironic that I came out here because I was afraid I would die without having fulfilled any meaningful purpose in life.

Anyway, today being Saturday means today is homework day again. I always feel behind and lately unmotivated to do my homework. I know I need to finish these classes to finalize my teaching credential. There was a time when I loved school. But this just feels like a hoop I have to jump through and I'm sick of it.

I read a book by Alice Munro called Lives of Girls and Women. It was a really great book--a series of short stories, really, about a girl who lives in a small town in Canada. It didn't all connect until the end. As she grew up, she grew apart from everybody and in an effort to belong lost hold of herself. She drifted apart from her best friend because the other girl dropped out of school, as did most people, and got a job, then spent all her free time buying things for when she got married and putting up with drunken men she didn't really like because she was "supposed" to find a husband. Del, however, stayed in school, and thought she might get a scholarship to go to college, which was her only ticket out of her hometown. And yet this choice didn't satisfy her either.

This is the kind of book I want to write, the kind of book I hope my novel is although I'm not really sure. It saddened me, though, to read it... I get depressed when I read sad books or watch sad movies, so I have to be careful. And then... and then a little part of me thought about Dave and how as much as we were soulmates, he didn't understand about books. My love of literature was a world that was foreign to him, even though he wrote songs and we could connect through music. And as much as I loved him, sometimes I was lonely for someone to share the books with.

I think he knew that, although I tried to keep it secret from him that there was this hole in his understanding of me. Maybe that's why he took it personally that I left. I wasn't leaving him, but I think he feared we would drift apart because I was entering a world more appropriate to who I really was.

I feel guilty thinking all this because I really did love him, and I feel as if it's a betrayal of his memory to think that we were better suited as friends than as lovers, just as in life I felt it was a betrayal to be attracted to other men even though he said he wanted us to have an open relationship and that the only thing that mattered was our friendship, not whether we ever went further than that.

Anyway the ironic difference between me and Del is that she broke up with her non-intelelctual boyfriend because he tried to fore her to get baptized, while I wholeheartedly embraced my baptism and my commitment to God.

It's strange how I did secretly want these few months apart from Dave to try to figure out who I was and then come back to him stronger. I think if he had been able to come out here he would have been pleased with who I'd become.

I'm working on my next Toastmasters speech, to be given in a few weeks. We can choose any subject; the point is to do an organized 5-7 minute speech. I'm going to do mine on the topic of recapturing who you were meant to be rather than who you once were.

As always I owe my inspiration to Dave, who was second only in my love to God.

On the right path

I made fish tonight for the very first time. I had bought half a pound of flounder on a whim and frozen it until I decided what to do with it. Well, tonight I finally got sick of eating leftover chicken, so I googled flounder recipes and found a really easy flounder bake. (I also found some really nice-sounding recipes that I didn't have any of the ingredients for, but that's OK)

Basically I used salt, pepper, and paprika to season the fish, and made a sauce from melted margarine and lemon juice. (You're supposed to use fresh lemon juice, but since I didn't have any lemons I used bottled juice. It still came out fine) Then I baked it for 30 minutes.

This was SOOO good... I had cut the three fillets in half but I ended up eating all three, with some glazed carrots. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm full after eating fish.

In other news, it looks like I'm going to be employed soon!!! I went to the District Office for an informal interview this afternoon. It was me and one other girl from my program with the HR specialist. There are 15 positions open so maybe we'll both get jobs.

Anyway, basically the HR person acts as an agent to get your application out to the schools. I still have to get her my references... I'll fax them tomorrow so the people can start working on them... but in the meantime she's going to start circulating my application. She said I should expect to hear from school principals within a few days! I'm supposed to call her when I get an interview, or if I don't hear from anyone.

I am so excited. Well... I'm a little scared, too. There's a part of me that's afraid I won't be able to do this. I try to remember how much Dave believed in me.

I wish he was still here so I could tell him all about this but I'm sure he's watching from Heaven. Their starting salary, which according to the HR specialist, is "not as high as it should be" is about $2800/month, plus a bonus at the end of the school year.... all in all, about $30,000 for the year. That's more than I've ever made in my life--even when I taught at USC I only made about $15,000. That was plenty for me to live on in LA--now I'll be making twice as much money while prices are half as much. One thing's for sure: when I can afford it I'm getting wireless. Every time I want to upload pictures using my dial-up connection, I lose half an hour of my life. I also promised myself that when I get my first paycheck, I can get one of the expansion packs for Sims 2, although I'm thinking about buying that now in celebration of job I'm sure I'll have.

In preparation for this interview, I got a haircut and some more new clothes--I fit into a size 14 about half the time, and the rest of the time still have to wear a 16. So far I've lost 3 pounds since I started Weight Watchers... if I keep going I'll have lost about 20 pounds by Thanksgiving!

Anyway, here's me in my new suit that I bought for this interview:


And one of me just hanging out:



I like my hair much better short like this. It's easier to manage and it looks really good. I feel like a grown-up when I look at myself. Plus, somehow I look less fat since I got my new haircut.

The main reason I had kept my hair long was because Dave found long hair attractive... so it was hard to cut off for that reason, but I'm glad I did it. I'm sure if he was still here he would have found me attractive anyway, because I am :)

Pictures

I've been playing with the self-timer on my camera. I took a couple of shots of me sitting by my computer:




I also discovered that my camera has a video recording mode. You can record up to almost 4 minutes of video w/sound. I made a sample video but there wasn't enough light so parts of it came out really dark... I'm going to try again tomorrow. Ruben wanted to see some pictures of my house, which I took earlier, but I think maybe I can make a video tour, which would be even better.

Toastmasters

I did it! I did my first speech!

The group was really small tonight, which was just as well because, even though I was fine all day, I was really nervous when I walked in. I felt under-prepared, too... the other person who went was my friend Chrissy, who I met last week, and while we were waiting for the meeting to begin she was going over pages and pages of notes to figure out what to take out so that her speech wouldn't be too long.

Me, I had one typed page and a few notes on the next page that spilled over.

Plus i didn't actually finish writing my outline until this afternoon, about two hours before I had to leave. I just felt it would all come together.

Chrissy went first. Her speech was really really good. Honestly, I thought it was better than mine. Mine was very straightforward for the most part. Hers was more... clever... and I thought she knew better what she was saying.

When it was my turn I was shaking a little. I remembered to shake the Toastmaster's hand and looked at my notes real quick, because i couldn ot remember how I had planned to begin.

As I spoke, it did seem to come together. Things started coming to me. I thought I spoke well, but all too soon the Timer held up the paper to let me know I only had two minutes left, and I was still talking about childhood. I hurried through adolescence to adulthood, talked very briefly about LA and my relationship with Dave, then concluded.

There was so much more I wanted to say... I had wanted to talk about my baptism and about some of my experiences in LA and such.

But when evaluation time came, the evaluator loved it! He said it was the best organized speech he'd ever heard, that the content was on target, and he loved my delivery. The only thing he suggested was not squeezing the lecturn all the time.

Chrissy's husband spoke during Table Topics. I almost wished I hadn't done a speech, because one of the Table Topics was "talk about the person who most inspired you," which would have been my chance to say all those things about Dave that I didn't get to say in my speech because I ran out of time. But speechmakers were not supposed to do Table Topics so I didn't get to do that :(

Anyway, after he spoke, this lady got chosen to speak about "My Most Embarrasing Moment". I loved her speech. She stared out by saying that she didn't have an embarrassing moment and she wished the topic was "My Best Birthday." Then she said, "Well, since I have a best birthday, that's what I'm takling about," and told a very funny story about spending her birthday by herself at the circus. She even tied it in to the actual topic by saying she was embarrassed at how big she was when she looked at her picture with the clown.

She and Chrissy's husband tied for Best Table Topic Speaker. I hoped Chrissy would get Best Speaker, because I thought it would be neat for her and her husband to both get ribbons. That's exactly what happened.

Afterwards we all walked out together. Chrissy doesn't like the awards system because she feels it detracts from the supportiveness of the group, which is its stated goal. I kind of agree with her. I mean, I was actually rooting for her to win the ribbon.. I thoguht she was better prepared and made a better speech. But some people would have been upset that someone else won. Plus, she pointed out that having her husband there meant she had an automatic vote for herself, which is true... after all, if Dave was still here and had made it out to Fayetteville, I have no doubt he would have voted for me. He always was my cheerleading section.

I don't know. I think the voting is kind of neat... a little extra confirmation that you're doing well, but certainly not something that's necessary. At the same time, I don't like it when competition turns ugly or interferes with people doing their best for the sake of doing a good job.

In any case, no sooner did I get home than I heard a plantiative meow, and there was my black cat whom I haven't seen in two weeks.

I can't help thinking as always that he has something to do with Dave.. that he came around to let me know that Dave knew what I did and was proud of me.

Back to church, part II

I went to church this morning. It was a weird experience. First of all, this was a far more traditional service than I'm used to. I really liked Pastor Richard's way of doing things, although it is forever associated with Dave in my mind so perhaps it was time for me to do something new...

It was also a REALLY long service. I mean REALLY long. I hadn't eaten breakfast, assuming that the service would be short like Richard's services always were. But this service took FOUR HOURS.

The first part was really neat. We read various passages from the Bible and the pastor commented on each passage. He talked about obediance to God--about putting God first. He talked about how people have to go through the "wilderness" just as the Jews did upon being freed from slavery, where you don't understand anything and everything's scary and you need to cing to God but you feel like turning away from Him. That described so perfectly the conlficting feelings I've been having about God since losing Dave, the feelings I've been ashamed of and afraid of. I couldn't even tell Richard at the funeral when he asked me what the hardest thing was.

Because of that sermon I felt renewed. It was as if God had brought me here to here the words I need to hear, as He had so often done in the past.

After that, they had groups of kids come up and summarize what they learned in Sunday school. I felt kind of bad for the kids, because they seemed so shy and afraid... I didn't like that they were forced to speak when they didn't want to, and I wondered how well they had understood their lessons. I wondered if they were just repeating words without understanding the meanings, as I had been forced to do when I was little, reciting Hebrew words without knowing the language and feeling as if I were lying.

If it had ended there, that would have been enough for me.

But there was a second part of the service... people were supposed to come up to get rededicated to God, though I didn't. Then there was a lot of music that I didn't really listen to. The durmmer was hitting the drums too hard and I thought about how Dave wouldn't have done that. Suddenly I longed to play the drums. He had been teaching me and I don't want to lose this gift more precious than all the things he couldn't leave me. I had planned to buy a drum set when I could afford it, but had forgotten in the busyness of my life, the self-imposed busyness to keep me from thinking sad thoughts and the long list of things I needed to do, anyway, to move forward with my life.

I also thought about my ice breaker speech, which I still haven't fully written. I thought about the things I wanted to say, and how instead of preparing properly I was leaving everything until the last minute.

And of course I thought about Dave and how I wished he was here so I could tell him about this church.

Finally, after the music and the tithes and the offering (which was really neat, in a way... everyone who wanted to got in line and moved forward to the box to make their contribution, while music played in the background to bring them forward. I liked it but I didn't, because I believe that your offerings should be completely anonymous, to remove the possibility that you are doing it to show how good you are rather than out of genuine love for God) there was another sermon. I liked parts of it... we talked a bit about the prodigal son and about putting God first. The preacher was a bit too harsh for me, on the point of "you have to have everything perfect with God or you're going to Hell", which I don't quite believe. But all in all, it was enjoyable and helpful.

However, I was starving by this point. I wish I'd known that it would be 2 PM before I got home (I left at 9 AM). I would have eaten something. It didn't seem right to be thinking about food when I was supposed to be concentrating on God...

I have much to say but I am too tired and this post is rambling enough as it is.