This is it. For realsies.

I skipped small group.
I skipped running errands.
I’ve got no roommates at home.
I’ve got no TV or Netflixed DVD to distract.
I’ve got a full bag of pretzels.
I’ve got unlimited caffeine free coke, ice cream, and cookie dough.
I’ve given myself an hour to get psyched.
In that hour, I will watch the newest episode of NCIS and consume this wonderful treat I just pulled out of the oven and freezer:
(Oh, yeah. That’s a freakin’ homemade pizookie.)
And then I will write. At the kitchen table. For as long as it takes.
Until 5,000 words are written. Or until this scene is finished.
And then I will go to sleep, wake up early (for me), and try it again.
Peace out.


Summer time!



Today was GREAT. I slept in/lounged in bed as late as I wanted to without feeling guilty. Then I went out to the pool to read my newest Karen Kingsbury book in the perfect sunshine, while also starting on this summer’s tan. (My goal this summer is to be as brown as Sonia and I were when we lifeguarded summer 2004. That was the best tan EVER.) I talked with some of the apartment kids who came out to swim, including one little girl dressed all in pink who thought it was the coolest thing that I also had a pink cell phone and pink keychain. I just love little kids. 🙂

While I was reading, I came up with new ideas for my story, specifically a great plotline to tie two characters together later on. I love it when things like that click. I also discovered how to physically characterize all my blue-eyed characters. Because in a story where most of my characters are either blondes or redheads, a good portion of them come out with blue eyes. So as I was daydreaming out in the sun, I realized that Character J has fierce blue eyes (cuz she’s got a fiery personality), while Character A has warm blue eyes that sometimes show a little green (because she’s got a lot of compassion, but is also very passionate about certain things), and Character T has piercing blue eyes (because he’s pretty intuitive. And he’s hot.)

Sorry if that makes no sense to anyone else. It was a great revelation to me. 🙂

Then I really, really wanted to go running. Even though I thought I hated running. But it was so beautiful, and just starting to cool down a bit, with a nice breeze blowing, so I went back inside, yelled hi to Jenna studying at the kitchen table, laced up the sneaks, and took off.

It was glorious.

And apparently my only problem with running is that I don’t like doing it when it’s cold. Go figure. It’s just so much more interesting when it’s all warm outside and you can run in your bathing suit, tank top, and soccer shorts. And then when you have to pause and walk off a cramp or something, it’s still just a beautiful stroll on a gorgeous day.

Oh, and I’ve also discovered I love running in the middle of the street. I think it’s a throwback to the days when my mom wouldn’t let us cross our own street until we were like eleven. (Ha. Take that, Mom.)

I had mapped out a 1 mile route from our apartment, one that didn’t involve going down the specific scary street that always makes me feel like I’m going to get thrown in the back of a van or get my ipod stolen by a fourteen-year-old with a knife. (You scoff, Brian Reames, but it’s freaky being a girl and seeing their eyes follow you as you go by. Or hearing cars slow down and glide along the curb next to you. Ew. It’s giving me the creeps right now.)

Anyway, as I was running in the street outside the cute little junior high, I decided since I was practically there, I’d add an extra half mile and go up to the spot where we went geocaching after Jenna’s birthday party. We didn’t find anything that night, but it was dark, and we were depending on flashlights. So I figured maybe I’d go by and see if I could find the cache.

And I totally found it. All by myself.

No, not really. I looked in the bushes for a couple minutes for that camo bag, but nothing stood out from all the leaves and dirt. That camo is good. Oh, but I did see a baby bat hiding in the brush.

No, not really. But I just realized my day probably wasn’t really all that exciting to anyone else, so I’ve got to spice it up somehow. Just trying to keep you guys on your toes.

I came home and Jenna demonstrated some yoga moves she learned at a class she took at the gym. I’m intrigued with yoga now. We decided to get our hands on a yoga DVD for the roommates to exercise in the living room. Sonia, Mandy, and I used to do that back at the old Cobblestone Apt. #11. It was one of our first roommate bonding moments. And then we’d have anorexic popsicles afterward.

Anyway, Jenna decided she wanted to go study at Starbucks, and lucky for me, it was one of those times when she wanted a buddy. (Jenna distracts herself too easily when she studies, so sometimes she has to go alone.) Starbucks was closing in an hour, so we went to Cosmos instead (yay!) and snagged the couch facing the street ouside, which was all lit up in pretty La Mesa Blvd. fashion. A guy was performing that night, but otherwise there were very few people there, so we got a lot done.

We took a trip to Wal-Mart to get me a new cooler for the start of soccer season. While we were there, Jenna lamented how sometimes she just wants to buy things for the sake of buying things, because she hasn’t bought anything for a long time. And then she commented on how practical I was with my money and how I never let the temptation to buy unnecessary things overcome me.

Worst. Jinx. Ever.

Because then we walked through the clothes section. And I saw they’d replenished the rack where I’d bought this really cute and great fitting shirt a few weeks ago. And now there were MORE!

And I ended up breaking my no-spend pledge.

Curse you, Jenn-ay, and your terrible jinx.

After that, we came home, made cookies, and got back to work at the kitchen table. And then on Facebook I got an offer from one of my aviation buddies to go flying sometime. He suggested tomorrow morning, but I’m going to need a little more time to get used to the idea. I’ve never flown before, after all. And I don’t like heights. Or small, cramped spaces. All of which pose a problem for flying.

But this is the year for fun and risk-taking, right?

(Now that I’m done with it, I realize this is the longest. post. ever. And it’s pretty irrelevant to anything. I blame the endorphins from running and being out in the sun. Exercise makes me talk really, really fast about random things. Hmmm… maybe I should save that for my next confession.)

Beautiful Sunday

Woke up late today.
Discovered the power cord to my main laptop still won’t work, and the wireless on my netbook once again will not connect to our home network.
Decided to go to Cosmos to get my fill of online goodness and squeeze some writing in.
Got a great couch seat right by the floor to ceiling windows that gives me a great view to people watch everyone on quaint La Mesa Blvd.
I’m at about 600 words so far. I want to get to 1,000 before I go home. And then write another 1,000 at the kitchen table.
I’m also looking forward to cleaning the kitchen tonight, and making myself the Best Salad In The World, taught to me by Justin’s mom.
EDITED for additional info: Went to Flood with Ryan, and to Frye’s for a new power cord… $70, ouch. I’m keeping it in pristine condition so I can return it as soon as I find a cheaper one.
Picture of the day is of the pretty kitchen window flowers that Brittany is currently growing:

New Hat

I’ve rediscovered my childhood love for hats.

Perfect timing, too. Because I read once that writers spark creativity when they have something on their heads. I know, sounds sketchy, right? But writers claim it works. One writer said when she was stuck trying to figure out where to take her story, she would balance a beanie baby on her head, and voila! The pages would practically write themselves.

Fortunately for me, I have around 100 of those bean bag animals stored away under my old bed back home. Just in case it comes to that.

But for now I think I’ll stick with the hat.

This tip came to me at Coffeeshop Tuesday this past week. I had grabbed Britt’s hat on the way out the door (because it just felt like a hat day), and as I sat in Starbucks, I realized the hat really helped me block out everything else going on around me. Since I could only see what was directly in front of me, I wasn’t distracted by all the movement around me. The OSF was even able to sneak up on me, although I didn’t tell him that. Don’t want him to think I’m easy to sneak up on.

So today, when I went to Target to drop off a prescription, and the accessories section beckoned me closer, I decided to stop by the hats. And wouldn’t you know, I found a great little hat on clearance for six bucks. It is now my lucky hat, because I’ve found that the cheaper clothes come, the better they serve my purposes. (For instance, the Best Jeans Ever that I found for $4 on the clearance rack and lasted me for years and years, until a certain roommate, Britt, borrowed and left in Mexico. Errrrrr….)

Amended: It is my lucky writing hat. I shall wear it whenever I’m working on my 1,000 words a day goal. And it will help me achieve that goal. 

I believe in this hat.

New hat, you and I are in for some fun times.


Inspired by my two new favorite coffee shop cohorts (you know who you are), who spent a lengthy Tuesday evening discussing their goals for the future year, I decided maybe I needed to step it up a bit on my own goals.

Which is why you can currently find me at the Rancho San Diego Starbucks, camped out on the couch, surrounded by books, my laptop, index cards, and two sugar-filled, but not coffee-related, drinks. (The first one came free because Jenna works here; the second one came free because the girl who made it made a completely different one on accident and gave me both. I think I like this place.)

Unfortunately, I didn’t plan very well, because although I have all the above mentioned stuff, I forgot to take the SD card that I keep all my current documents on out of my main laptop and transfer it to this little guy. So I don’t know how productive I’m being exactly, going off memory, but I’m here, right? We’ll call this little trip a brainstorming session.

Anyway, I kind of like it in here. It’s quiet, but not deathly silent. Jenna’s here, and it’s fun watching her interact with customers and her fellow baristas. I knew about half the people present when I first walked in.

I think I’m gonna like it here. 🙂

I am normal.

Went to Cosmos tonight with Katelyn and Brian. As is the case on Tuesday nights, Brian was playing for open mic. I’ve gone a total of three times since July. “Dead Last Brian” as he will henceforth be called, of course was slotted to play the grand finale. The picture of the day comes from the first ten minutes of our three hour wait at the coffee shop, and I just love Katelyn’s face so much here that it beat out a picture of Brian actually playing. Such is life.

So while waiting for Dead Last Brian to do his thing, I hunkered down at a corner table with a book just in from the library: The Forest for the Trees (An Editor’s Advice to Writers). It’s good. Definitely kept me entertained for three hours and about 10 not very good performances. (Seriously. One guy was singing about dinosaurs.)

According to this book, I’m exactly the type to be a lifelong writer:
1) Have a new idea almost every day for a writing project? Check.
2) Begin sentences in your head while walking to work or picking up dry cleaning? Check.
3) Everything strikes you as a story to be told? Check.
4) Always writing, if only in your head? Check
5) Impulse to write at a very young age? Oh, those long, lone ten-year-old nights with the typewriter.
6) Intensely verbal or intensely withdrawn? I am both of those things to an extreme, in case you were wondering.
7) Accused of being too reflective? Do you people not know me at all?!
Congratulations to me! I am normal by the writing standard!
I really liked this quote, by Martin Amis: “You develop an extra sense that partly excludes you from experience. When writers experiene things, they’re not really experiencing anything like 100%. They’re always holding back and wondering what the significance is, or wondering how they’d do it on the page.” Is Martin Amis reading my mind?
I guess that quote translates into my life somewhat like this: I often wonder how differently I’m seeing things from other people. For instance, when my roommate and I are in the car, driving through the neighborhood, and there’s a boy and girl walking out of their house and disappearing behind a vine covered wall off the side of their yard, does my roommate automatically come up with the story that the vine covered wall is their secret passage to a secluded and restful garden, one where, in the midst of all the slummishness and graffiti covered signs of our La Mesa neighborhood, they can find a truly peaceful atmosphere to share their deepest secrets and past histories, because they are best friends in the truest sense of the word, having met only a week prior through a series of destiny defining events?
Or does she just see a boy and girl walking across the yard? Or does she even see them?
Cuz that’s my thought process all the time.
Maybe it’s just me and Martin.