Last day/first day

So this morning was the last service at Pastor Dan's church.

I got there about half na hour early. I felt a little sadbecause Pastor Dan wasn't his usualy smiling self, it seemed. I realized suddenly that this was hard for him, too, and that he wished he didn't have to do this.

But once the service began, I realized that ir eally did admire him. He began by reading for Ecclesiastes (sp?)--that famous passage about

For everything there is season,
A time to live, a time to die.

And then he said, "This is really hard. My heart is breaking, and I might not be able to get through this without crying."

And right then I knew why I admired him and had felt a connection to him more than any other pastor I've met out here. Because of the complete openness and honety with which he approaches all of us.

And I know it sounds cruel, though I don't mean it to be, but I was grateful for his tears. It made me feel like it had been OK for me to be sad about it last week, that none of us were expected to move on easily, as if none of it mattered.

So I listened to him read from Ecclesiastes and suddenly I thought that everything he was saying applied equally well to losing Dave. And I wondered why losing Dave and losing this church were intertwined in my mind. It's so strange. I don't have an answer for that.

Anyway, after that we did some worship songs and then he read from John 13, when Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. And he told us all that he believed God had great things in store for each of us. And he invited us to come up on by one for him to pray for us.

And then he closed by having communion with us.

We all hung around and talked for a little bit. He said we could take a Bible if we needed one. I already have two Bibles inherited from Dave, but I took one anyway because I wanted a little piece of the church, so I could remember every time I read it.

Pastor Dan signed my Bible for me. Now i have something I treasure.

It was just starting to rain as I left, a if God too was crying because this particular chapter had to end. I drove home and changed my shirt so I would be ready for my date, feeling surprised that I felt so good and so happy. I had expected to still be drowning in grief.

And then... then I had a really great time.

I got to Applebee's at exactly 2. I would have been early, except for I got stuck at a light right around the corner from the restaurant, seemingly forever. Anyway, we got a table and sat and talked and almost forgot to look at the menu.

After lunch we were going to go to the movies, but he was concerned about his papers that he had to grade (he's a teacher too) so instead we just sat and talked for about 2 hours.

When I got home I had an e-mail from him saying that he had a really good time. We're planning on going out again next Saturday.

Oh, I hope this works out... I just feel like Dave is up there in heaven saying, "That's my girl," whenever things go well for me... I'm really happy and I'm afraid to be as happy as I am, afraid it won't last, won't work out.

But I'm trying to stay positive.

Late night post

It's late and I should be getting to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.

Tomorrow is the last day of church :( I made a banana cream pie to bring. Or, I should say, I tried to make it. I followed all the directions, even chilled it for 8 hours instead of 3, but it's still all mushy like pudding, not solid like pie.

*sigh* I don't have time to make something else. I'm thinking I might just put it in the oven for a few minutes to see if that'll get it to solidify even though the recipe was adamant about chilling it. Otherwise I'll have to present it as a pudding. (I'm very determined to bring this thing.)

After church I have a date. I'm really excited. I have an hour to get there and it's only five minutes away so I should have time to say a proper goodbye.

I realize that just because the church is disbanding doesn't mean I'll never see Pastor Dan again. I mean, he gave us all his phone number for a reason. I just... well, I don't like to call people unless i have a very specific reason because I don't want to be a pest. I even hated calling Dave even though he liked it when I called him from work. And I don't really know how to build a relationship with a pastor outside of a church.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to/dreading tomorrow at the same time.

In the meantime, I talked to another guy on the phone last Thursday and the Thursday before. He would like to go out next weekend.

I feel funny about scheduling dates with two different guys. I shouldn't, right? It's not like there's any commitment to be exclusive in this kind of dating. Obviously if things get serious with either of these guys, I would make a commitment and hopefully the other one would be willing to be just friends. I guess that's another way I'm like JD... I don't like to hurt people (and I'm jumping way too far ahead of myself, anyway.)

I finished my Scrubs fan fiction. I don't remember if I even mentioned it here. I was writing it just for me, although I was pretty damn impressed when I read it over tonight. I felt sad, too. When I took TV writing at USC, my teacher suggested I write a Scrubs episode. It was before I had gotten into it, so I ignored her. Then when I took an independent screenwriting class, I had thought about writing one but changed my mind. Now I don't live in LA anymore, the show is probably ending after this season, and it's a little late for me to be thinking about wanting to write for it.

Damn timing. I wonder how my life would have been different if I'd listened to my TV writing teacher.

Too bad I decided to give up Scrubs reruns for Lent. I'd like to watch my DVD of "My Butterfly" to remind myself (again) that things happen the way they're meant to happen.

Anyway, eventually I'll put it up on my myspace and link to it from here. But not tonight.

I really really should get to bed.

Lent

Today is the first day of Lent.

I had meant to ask Pastor Dan last week how one observes Lent, since I had never done it before, but it didn't seem appropriate after his announcement that the church was closing. So I'm winging it.

Knowing that you are suppsoed to sacrifice something for the length of Lent, I decided, after much inner debate, to sacrifice watching my beloved Scrubs reruns. I watched one last episode last night... and it just so happened to be one of my favorite ones, the one where Dr. Cox decides to be gentler with his residents, and as a result they gradually start acting more and more like high school kids. Meanwhile, JD's girlfriend breaks up with him when she realizes he is not over Elliot and therefore will not let anyone else be close to him.

(I never said I wouldn't summarize Scrubs reruns during Lent, just not watch them ;)

Anyway, I plan on celebrating Lent the way I used to celebrate Yom Kippor, without all the guilt attached. Yom Kippor is the Jewish day of atonement. Traditionally Jews fast all day. It is also a day where they are supposed to forgive one another, let go of grudges, and reflect upon their behaviour of the past year. Their own sins of the year are then wiped away.

I didn't like Yom Kippor as a kid/young adult because many of the prayers used had an emphasis on fearing God's punishment for being so evil and sinful.

However, I see Lent as a similar time, minus the guilt. It's a time to renew my relationships with others and with God, and to self-examine.

This first day of Lent has been a weird day, which I rather suspect was designed to get my mind off-track. It began with one of my contacts mysteriously disappearing out of my eye secons after I put it in, and ended with my cell phone not ringing so that I missed my very busy sister's call.

But, now, I am cooking for the first time in three months. I moved my lamp into the kitchen so I can see, since I cant rach the ceiling bulb to change it. I just started a new macaroni and cheese dish that I got from the Weight Watchers comfort foods cookbook. It's pretty similar to the recipe I used to have except it has onions and diced tomatoes in it, plus after it's made you bake it in the oven with toasted bread crumbs for half an hour.

Now that I'm in the cooking spirit, I decided that I'm going to bake a pie in honor of the last day of church. I think the bana bread pudding I used to make will do nicely.

Things are looking up :)

Yesterday

Yesterday was a strange, happy/sad day.

I love Sundays because of church, and yesterday was no exception, at first. Pastor Dan gave a really awesome sermon about the story of Joseph, which has always been my favorite Old Testament story. I love Joseph's integrity and commitment, and the story has personal meaning to me because as a kid, I felt invisible and kind of hated.

But I haven't had time to reflect on the sermon because at the end of the service, Pastor Dan announced that after next week the church is closing due to lack of funds. :( I was sitting there feeling like crying while he gave everyone his phone number so we could stay in touch. People were getting up to talk about how much the church meant to them. I wanted to say something too. At first I couldn't. I could only think, What am I supposed to do now?

So finally I decided I had to say something because otherwise I enver would, and I didn't want to be this weird person who sits in church for two months and then quietly disappears forever. Not this time. I didn't stand up even though I wanted to. My voice stuck in my throat at first but finalyl I was able to say that when Dave died I feltl ike turning my back on God altogether, and that it was through this church that I was able to conitnue in my relationship with God. There were a lot of things I didn't add to that, because I was too sad to think of them and because they were too personal. Things like, no matter how crappy my week was, I always felt good on Sunday. And how it made me feel closer to Dave's memory because he would have liked this church. Sometimes I felt like he was sitting there with me. And things like, why is it that ever since August it feels like everything's just been falling apart? Ever since Dave's death everything shakes me up... and then I lost my car... and now this.

I didn't want to say those things so after the service I went up and gave Pastor Dan a hug. They had some t-shirts and stuff they were giving away. I took a calendar that said "I love teaching," since I'm going into the teaching profession. I couldn't bear to look at the t-shirts, something I regretted as soon as I walked away.

*sigh* I had carpooled with a former neighbor and friend. She was upset too, but she also kept telling me to "calm down", which really annoyed me. I know that people don't like to see their friends upset and crying, but damn it, I was sad and I needed to cry. She wanted me to stay a while at her house and maybe drink a beer with her, but I decided against that. First of all, somewhere among all the other things Dave taught me is that drinking when you're upset is only going to make thigns worse. And I can't drink without thinking of him, anyway, and losing my church was just tearing open the scab over the gigantic wound of losing him.

So I decided to go on with my day as planned and went to the roller rink. It was a little bit of an irritating experience because there were an unusual number of little kids who couldn't skate flopping all over the place. Usually I like kids but for some reason they all seemed to be in my way. I've never had a kid crash into me and knock me down before.

I did do a little skating, but for the most part I sat on the sidelines feeling irritated and upset, and talking to my best imaginary friend JD. I wished Dave was there. He'd know what to do. And I probably wouldn't be this upset if he was.

Eventually they played a song I liked and I skated to it. Unfortunately, I fell and hit my knee. I bruised it in the exact same space that I hurt it when I got baptized, which is a weird thought I can't seem to get rid of. I left soon after.

After skating, I stopped to call my grandmother before I went to dinner. She's old and sick so I feel ilke I should call her once in a while. She's also incredibly overbearing and annoying. Of course I couldn't tell her that my heart was broken over losing my church because she thinks that Judaism is the only true religion and that Christianity is an "evil" taking people away from God. I did tell her I might go to temple this week. She apparently felt obliged to tell my mom later that I'm only going to temple for "social reasons" and that I'm not really seeking God. I'm incredibly annoyed. Just because I don't worship the way she does doesn't mean I'm not seeking God, and knowing that I have a personal relationship with Him doesn't make me feel better. I'm probably mad at Him again too because I'm tired of having crap fall on me.

Well anyway, after I ate I came home and tried to rest and wrote in my paper diary and thought some more. Towards evening time I decided to try calling a guy from e-harmony that I'm really interested in, even though I had little hope right then that I would get anywhere.

We talked for an hour. He's a teacher too and he used to teach colelge just ilke I did. He's interested in writing even though he hasn't written much lately. After we takled for a while I asked him what he was doing next weekend. We're going to go to lunch and maybe the movies on Sunday afternoon.

I'm feeling double-minded now. I'm of course going to go to Pastor Dan's final service. I'm even planning on making something (I'm thinking of maybe the banana bread pudding) in honor of this occasion. And so I'm not going to want to rush away to a date, at least without saying goodbye properly. And I'm going to be a little upset, although obviously I'll have had a week to adjust.

BUT I'm also really excited about this guy and I'm hoping it'll work out better than my last date. And I think doing something fun with a new guy will take my mind off things.

And I don't want to change or cancel and appear all flakey and mess it up that way.

So this is how it stands right now.

Movin' forward

I got my PRAXIS scores today. I not only passed, I passed with flying colors. Minimum passing scores were 143 and 159 respectively; my scores were 173 and 184.

I am so so so happy. I hope this translates into a teaching job. My temp job is supposed to end after 2-3 weeks more.

In the meantime I'm working the day shift starting Monday so I can get back to some sort of normal life.

YAY me!!!

Jumbled thoughts about growing up

It's late and I'm tired but I wanted to post something because it's been a while. And also because I feel, and have felt for a while, that I am on the cusp of growing up.

Tonight was the best episode of Scrubs ever because of the last five minutes. (In case any other Scrubs fans haven't watched it yet, this is a good a place as any to shout SPOILER. (i.e stop reading if you don't want to know ;)

JD FINALLY realized how trying his clinginess is on his friends. "I can't stand two hours of this, let alone six years," he said. He turned down the invitation to have a beer with Dr. Cox that he's sought for six years, saying, "I don't have any plans, but at least I'm dealing with things on my own now." I was cheering.

It's funny how JD and I always seem to be facing the same issues at the same time. It seems that every rerun I watch is dealing with some issue that I'm also dealing with. I'm not dealing with clinginess per se, but like me, JD was feeling that his life had turned to crap and he was so overwhelmed... and ultimately realized it was up to him to fix it. It makes me feel good to go through this journey with this imaginary friend, even though real friends to share it would be even better. That's one thing I really miss about Dave...

In other news, I should be getting my PRAXIS scores any day now. They were supposed to be mailed out on the 13th. I was hoping I would get them today, but all I got was an advertisement about consolidating my student loan :( I'm a little impatient because I think this test is the key to getting a teaching job.

Oh, and I have two guys on eharmony who are interested in me. I feel weird about this. It's not like you commit to be exclusive with anyone until... well, you make that commitment. But it seems everyone on eharmony is looking for their life partner. And it would totally suck if one of them decided he wanted to go further with me and I'd already decided on the other one.

Anyway, so there are these two guys. One of them is an Indian fellow getting his citizenship in this country. We talked for two hours about philosophy and psychology. That was really cool, although it was more an intellectual conversation than a personal one. It is nice to have someone intelligent to talk to, though.

The other one I haven't really talked to yet. He e-mailed me once. He's a teacher and a writer too--and he's taught college before just like I have. I felt really excited when I heard from him. When I called him tonight, though, he said he was very tired and that he would call me back on Saturday.

I don't know what to make of all that. It's too early to make anything out of it, I guess. But it's nice to have possibilities.

All in all, I'm starting to feel happy, in a way I haven't since Dave's death. Some days I actually wake up happy. A lot of my prayers have been prayers of thanksgiving. I feel that this is a beautiful world we live in, even though it seems like a broken one sometimes.

I just wish Dave was here to share it with me.

Random thoughts about romance

My childhood best friend is getting married.

When my mom told me this last year, I felt sad. At the time, I was working at a dead-end job and I felt my life was going nowhere. Given what happened to Dave, my thoughts then seem silly now. I was worried about whether going beyond friendship with him was the right thing to do. He didn't want marriage or kids, which is understandable considering his history. I knew that I did.

Anyway, my thoughts then were along the lines of what am I doing with my life? I felt old all of a sudden. This girl who was my best friend until I was 14, this girl who I grew up, is getting married. I thought, Am I ever going to get married? Am I ever going to have kids?

Am I ever going to get my life together enough to be able to create a family?

I just went to macys.com and bought her a gift from the wedding registry. They only give you three lines to write a message. I wanted to say so much, but I ended up just saying, "I can't believe you're getting married. Congratulations." I felt funny putting "love" on it even though it felt right. It's been years since we've spoken or seen each other. And I have a painful memory burned permanently into my brain of my 14th birthday, when she told me she didn't want to be best friends with me anymore.

So back to my thoughts. I'm gradually getting my life together, I guess. I'm working now and I should be getting my test results back within a few weeks, after which I can start applying for teacher's jobs. I'm feeling less and less like 30 is too fast approaching and I have nothing to show for it.

It would be reasonable not to expect to have any major relationship in my life, considering what Dave was to me.

And that's the only thing missing.

My date last Sunday was disappointing. We didn't seem to have anything in common except teaching, and manly what he had to say about that was that he had trouble managing his time and wasn't sure he was doing a good job.

I didn't have a bad time, but I knew I didn't want another date.

And yet when he e-mailed me yesterday to say he thought I was nice but there was no connection and that we could be e-mail friends if I wanted, I felt hurt. It makes no sense since I felt the same way.

I guess I hoped I was overreacting even though I know I wasn't. I'm too anxious about the whole dating thing. Dave was my first love. I never dated in high school or college. That's part of what makes losing him so damn hard.

In the meantime my brother and sister are both in serious relationships that are probably going to lead to marriage and my childhood best friend is getting married.

It just underscores that there's something missing in my life.

I really shouldn't be so anxious. I already know that someday I' going to have kids which, presumably means someday I'm going to be married. I'm going to have a son and name him Jonathan David. David after Dave, of course. Jonathan because the biblical Jonathan was David's loyal friend and has always een my favorite Bible chaacter.

So instead of being anxious i should be patient and let the right person come to me. I wasn't expecting to meet Dave when I did, after all.

It's just hard not to be lonely when everyone else around you seems to have someone.

moving on, or trying to

I'm in a strange mood tonight. Actually, I've been in a strange mood all week.

Sometimes I think this is a beautiful world God has graced us with and other times I just feel the emptiness all around me where Dave belongs. It's part of the grieving process, I guess.

It seems the more I take steps to move forward in my life the way Dave would have wanted me to, the more I feel his absence. I'm doing a lot better than I was back in August, of course, although summer is going to be here again too soon and I don't want to deal with the first birthday I can't celebrate and the first of my birthdays without him... and the first anniversary of his death.

Anyway, this morose post came about because I have a date tomorrow. I met this guy on eharmony and I mae the obligiatory first call to see if I wanted to take it beyond e-mail. I thought we'd just talk for a few minutes but we ended up talking for an hour, about teaching mostly, because he's a teacher too, but also about other things. It reminded me of the way I used to stay up all night taking to Dave, which is one of the things I miss most about him.

So tomorrow I'm going to meet him at Applebee's after church. I'm excited and scared and nervous, and I realized suddenly that I'm scared that things might actually work out for me.

I don't know where that fear comes from. It's the JD in me, I guess. But I know that part of it is feeling like if I move on with my life, I leave Dave's memory behind. Which is, of course, BS. He would have wanted me to move on. And I will always have his memory.

I wrote the first chapter of Chasing Ghosts last week. The more I write, the more I become aware that it's about a woman who wants to turn back time, who's afraid of the future, of time moving on. It's partly because her husband's died, but it's more than that... it's a general attitude towards life.

I don't want to be like her but I am writing her story.

I put a quote from the Bible at the beginning:

When the sun rose, Lot went into Zoar...
but his wife looked behind her, and was turned into a pillar of salt.

and a dedication

FOR DAVID
Your memory lives on in me

I'm excited about this project, although it's slow going. I'm still working on my old novel, too. I want to finish revising it and then get it professionally edited. Then I'll write a proposal and try to get it published.


Not much else to say. Last night they showed the episode of Scrubs where JD and Elliot hook up and then quickly break up. I could just hear Dave saying, "You see why it's better just to be friends?"

1:30 left of work before I can go home and go to bed. I'm tired.

Lots of stuff

It's been a while... hasn't it? Or has it? A week and a half isn't too long, for me... I've gone way longer without having the chance to write.

Anyway, lots of stuff to report, most of it good. For one thing, my writer's block ios finally gone. I wrote my first scene of Chasing Ghosts yesterday, and this afternoon I've been sitting at work thinking about the scene I'll write when I get home (or tomorrow morning, more likely. I am extremely tired for reasons I'll go into in a bit.)

I have a feeling that now that I've found my opening, Chapter One should pretty much write itself. I'm really excited about this project, even more so than my first novel (which I'm still revising).

I want to write my book jacket/synopsis, but I'm a little afraid to post it publically. Suffice it to say that the story is about a mother and daughter who both have to face their pasts in order to move forward with their lives.

Moving on...

The reason I'm so tired is because I stayed up until 2 AM last night and had to get up at 8:30 to attend "drive-through prayer". This is a church community thing that my pastor does once a month... it's the first time I've ever done it. Basically, he puts out a sign saying, "Drive Through Prayer" on the steret, and those of us who have volunteered for this stand on the street corner and wave to people driving or walking by. People can stop to ask us to pray with them.

It was really cold this morning. I was wearing my light jeans jacket as always--I have an actual winter coat in my car, but I never think to wear it, because I just don't get cold. (When I was at school in Syracuse, I got sent back to my dorm for walking in the snow without a coat on.) Pastor Dan insisted on lending me his winter coat, which I didn't wear. My hands were freezing, though. At first I was putting one hand in my pocket and waving to cars with the other hand, and switching them periodically. FInally, someone lent me a glove, and that solved that problem.

I was a little nervous about praying for people because I've never done it before. Last week, Pastor Dan had said that God will always provide you with what you need to do His work, but that didn't quite make sense--what's the point of praying if God has to tell you what to tell Him?? So when Pastor Dan did the first prayer, I sort of hung back and watched and listened to see what a "real" prayer sounded like.

For a long while, no-one stopped for prayer, though a lot of people honked and waved back at us. That gave me a lot of time to think. I was thinking about Dave, about how glad he would be that I was getting involved with a church, about how he might have reacted to this whole thing we were doing here. Also about how he would never have let me stand on a street without wearing a winter coat in the first place so that I wouldn't have been in the position of having to allow the pastor to lend me one when I already had one in my car.

Anyway, eventually this lady came up and wanted prayer for herself and her family. I prayed with her... at first I didn't know what to say, but then, sure enough, the words did come to me. I felt so good after I prayed, like this world is a beautiful place and I'm glad to be in it (how's that for cliched thinking?) Thinking about it, I realized that I've been living inside my head for far too long. Besides Dave, I never really shared my thoughts and feelings with anyone, so... since he died I've been living entirely in my head. And while I love my head, that's not always a great place to be. I need to get out in the world and remember I'm a human being.

Speaking of which, I joined eharmony about 2 months ago. I didn't really hold out any hope of finding anyone. I don't know why I spent the money to become a member. I was lonely, I guess, and even though I really miss Dave I realized I can't stay romantically loyal to his memory forever because I still have to live my life even though he's gone.

So anyway, I've been corresponding with this guy. He's a teacher also, and he loves teaching because he thinks it's very important to teach kids to think for themselves. Tonight I got an e-mail from him asking if I thought we should meet in person and talk more.

I'm excited because this is the very first time I've ever been asked out (the way it happened with me and Dave doesn't count... we were very best friends and somewhere along the line we just decided since our feelings were so deep for each other we might as well go further). Of course, I know about Internet safety and all that. I'm going to suggest to this guy that we exchange phone numbers and talk for a while first before we go out in person. I figure phone numbers can always be changed if need be.

Anyway, back to my church experience. (I'm really tired so this blog might not make much sense. Unfortunately, I have 2 hours left at work with very little to do. I need to wake up.) After praying with that lady, as I said, I felt spiritually more awake than I had in a long time. I wanted to pray with other people but unfortunately none came along :(

By the time it ended at 2 PM, my feet were so cold I could barely feel them as I walked back to my car. I went home, ate lunch, and watched an episode of Scrubs that I taped last night and missed most of because I didn't get home from work on time. It was one of my favourite episodes from Season 1, My Old Lady. It showed all three main doctors (interns in that season) dealing with patients who might be the 1 out of 3 patients who was destined to die there. JD's patient was an elderly woman whom he grew attached to. Unfortunately, when her kidneys failed, she refused dialysis and he had to accept that she was going to die. In a last-ditch effort to convince her to change her mind, JD made a list of a bunch of things he thought everyone should do in their life. She replied, "How many of the things on that list have you done? For that matter, how often have you sat on the grass and done nothing? You need to take more time for yourself. Promise me you will."

The episode ended after her death (well, actually, the death of all three patients) with JD lying on the grass reflecting that when patients die, you have to take what you can from your time with them, "even if all it is is lying on the grass thinking about all the things you still have to do."

I don't know exactly why this episode affected me the way it did, but of all the episodes I've seen (and I've seen 90% of them, several enough times to memorize them), this struck me as one of the best and most important.

Oh dear, I'm rambling, aren't I? When I find myself summzarizing every detail of Scrubs episodes it's probably time to quit. Besides, my blog is competing with Zach Braff's now for longest catch-up blog of the week. (I have a lot to say about my growing admiration for him, but not now. I'm too tired.)

Until next time...

First post of the New Year

I'm sorry it's been such a long time since I've written. I've been busy since the year began.

First of all, I got a temp job. I'm working at Univision 40--the local Spanish-language channel. Basically I'm working the control booth, making sure the local commercials air at the proper time. They're planning on automating this process within the next month or two, so in the meantime they need a temp to do it.

I'm glad to be working, even though I work the night shift (4-12), which means that I'm tired all the time and don't seem to be able to cram everything else I need to do into the day. It's also a little sad... whenever I'm getting ready to leave work for the night, I think of Dave. I think about how it would be if he were here with me, how he would probably leave something on the stove for me to eat when I came in or if he was awake he'd have a show on I like for us to watch together. I miss him the most on the way home from work at midnight.

I work five minutes from my house, which is much nicer than the 3o min commute I had when I worked at Kinko's. When I lived with Dave, I hurried home to be with him. Now I hurry home to watch Scrubs.

Anyway...

So in between work shifts I'm writing the third draft of my novel. I also have an idea for another novel, which I've barely started. I'm not happy with what I've written so far, which doesn't surprise me, because 1) I've been reading a lot of "light" stuff--mainstream romance novels and the like--so I'm sure my voice is influenced by what I'm reading and 2) this new project is so ambitious that I'm not going to be happy with it until I've worked and worked and worked.

My new novel is called Chasing Ghosts. It's a generational story told in bits and pieces... some parts will be from the point of view of a young single mother, and others will take place 20 years later and be from the point of view of her daughter. The mother's story is about her attempt to forge a relationship with a guy she knew only briefly as a child, and how difficult it is for her to create a new relationship because she's still in love with her husband, who passed away. The daughter's story is about her attempt to create a new life for herself in the city her mother moved them from after her father's death. She's moved there in order to start over again after being found guilty by association of shoplifting, but she can't seem to free herself of her past.

I'm excited about it... if only I can write it.

Some other news:

1) One of my teaching classes started today. I have to write a "literacy autobiography" detailing my experiences with learning to read and write. It's slow going because I taught myself and my main experiences in elementary school were of being told, "You're too young to be able to read like this." I don't think a bitter essay about how stupid my teachers were is quite the point of the exercise.

2) I found out that Zach Braff has a myspace page. He encourages his fans to add him as a friend. I've been procrastinating because I want to write him a fan e-mail and also because I have this fantasy he'll actually look at my page before he adds me, which I'm sure he's way too busy to do. In any case, I'm way too busy to make some changes to my page I want to make before anyone of consequence looks at it. Unfortunately time is ticking, as always... he says on his blog that he'll read all fan mail for now but if enough people contact him he won't be able to anymore... and so far there are 10000+ people added to his page. On the top of his friends list is his brother, who is apparently a writer and gives aspiring writers advice in his blog.

I've been spending way too much time on the Internet looking at all this stuff.

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...