*Yawns*

And so I shake off the dust that has accumulated over the long period of my break from writing. A lot had happened since I last wrote (last year!!!) but I won't bog everything down with a huge summary. Instead, I'm going to record the story of my one of my greater puppy loves from days long gone, for no more reason than because I want to.

It happened in middle school, in the year of T-shirts, blue jeans, and self consciousness. I met a boy in the way that most schoolgirls do- in a class I had. He sat in front of me, and I'm sorry to say that I ended up oblivious to my friend for most of the year, distracted by his jokes and teasing. This boy was a nice one, but I was stuck quite firmly in between a hardy friendship and a flickering crush. The end of the year came swiftly, and the yearbooks were handed out to everyone. I was shocked when he splayed his out on my desk one day and thrust me a pen, asking quietly if I would please give me my phone number in case he wanted to call. It was hot out, and the middle school had no air conditioner. That's the thing about living in the Northeast- you get all the seasons at full force. Teachers turned on the fans they lugged in from home, closed blinds to block out the sun, and fashioned paper fans out of scarce scrap paper, but we all knew they had no effect. It was one of those days that I took the pen from him and scribbled out a note, signed my name, and tacked on my number to the end of a corner in the back. I fished out my book and he signed. Class went on, we joked, talked about summer, and poked fun at the elderly teacher Mrs. Cam.
I didn't have to wait long before he called. We talked for at least an hour every time, if not two. My parents took to answering the phone before me, holding it out, and calling out "Honey, your boy is calling again!" Especially my dad. Well, I'd throw them a look with a roll of my eyes and snatch at the phone for another long conversation about nothing: the weather, pool parties, boredom, friends, vacations and summer reading assignments. I thought that I'd found the friend I'd always read about in books- the one that you can tell anything to, talk for hours on end, confide in and be together 'till the end. But I also can't deny that I also had a crush on him, the dear boy. One day I called and left a message for him: would he like to come mini-golfing with me and my brother and cousin? He didn't get the message in time, and so we went without. The next week he called me and told me he had to go mini-golfing with his grandparents and didn't want to go alone with them. I checked with my parents and said sure I'd go! Ha!
Turned out his grandparents weren't really going golfing with us at all- they dropped us off and left. I was confused beyond my mind, but I went with the flow, not wanting to sound as if I didn't want to hang out with him. I just wished he'd asked that outright, because the answer would've been yes. Then the hints started coming. He insisted that he buy the game for us both, and I waved my own ten dollar bill in front of him, explaining that my mom wanted me to help with the cost. He refused and I put the money away, not liking where this was going. We played a game just fine. All talking and teasing again, and I relaxed. We turned in our clubs and neon golf balls and wandered inside where snacks, ice cream, and fried foods were sold. A couple pinball machines hid inside the "party room" reserved for birthday parties. Again the hints happened. We both wanted popcorn chicken and french fries, and I had to argue to pay for my own. And you know what? I don't even remember if he let me pay this time for my own or not. We brought the food outside and sat on the wooden steps on the porch. Then we took a walk around the building, and here's where I started to wonder when his grandparents were going to pick us up. I shook myself off and went along, ignoring the signs, not wanting to ruin our friendship with silly suspicions.
"If you could have one wish right now, what would it be?" he asked suddenly, slowing down our pace. I countered with the same question, but he pointed out that he had asked first. In the background a romantic song played, "A Moment Like This", and I recognized it from a cruise commercial I had seen on the TV, full of couples laughing and racing on the beach together. I shrugged and smiled slightly. 'I wish he'd kiss me.' The thought startled me and I wondered if it really had come from my own mind. But I had thought it. I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess." I copped out. I didn't really want a boyfriend, it was only the small crush talking to me. Everything clicked together then. He would have wanted me to say that, because that was the relationship he wanted- the paying for my game, his family dropped us off alone- it was planned. I started to panic like some cornered thing. I kept walking and sat down on the other side of the porch. He sat down a stair below me and the conversation veered back to normal. I still fingered my cell phone, wondering if I should lie and tell him I had to go home soon.
He mumbled something, and I couldn't understand what he had said. It sounded like an invitation to his family's camp later that summer, we were just talking about it the second before, but I couldn't be sure. "What?" I asked. The poor boy hunched his shoulders and glanced down at his hands, "Don't make me say it again." he pleaded. The alarm bells should have gone off at that, but I asked again, explaining that I really hadn't heard it. Another second of silence, and he fidgeted. "Would you go out with me?". I clammed up at that. He was asking me out as plain as day, asking that I be his girlfriend. I still to this day wish that I had done something different after that, but I can't change the past. I pretended that I hadn't heard him again. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't catch it again. Oh well, I should be getting home soon, my parents gave me a curfew this afternoon, you know." I blabbered on, and then it got really quiet. I think he knew I'd heard him, he'd been very clear about it the second time around. He phoned his family and they picked us up. The ride back to my house was a silent one. I scrambled out of the truck and didn't look back. The calls were either so scarce after that that I don't remember them or he just didn't call after that. I was disappointed that I lost the great friend I had thought he was. I really hadn't tried to lead him on, I swear it, but it all went wrong.
By the time school came that September, the boy was always waiting at my locker in the morning. Apparently he was determined to win me over, despite that summer. I avoided my locker and told no one about him, not my friends or my mother. I thought it was all my fault, and I didn't know how to handle him at all. Worst thing was, I did still have the smallest crush on him, but I was turning out to be flighty when it came down to the punch. He got me one morning, and handed me a giant white gift bag with a stingy bow attached, gauzy gift paper spilling out of it. He explained that he bought me it in Maine on a family vacation, then just smiled and left, that was it. I opened it- a pink rhinestone heart on a silver necklace chain. It didn't look expensive, almost like something you'd get out of a little dollar vending machine in the mall, but I couldn't be sure of it. I still avoided my locker, and I feel terrible about doing that. I called him one night before dinner and explained that I was going to give him the necklace back so he could give it to another girl who'd appreciate it more that I would. I was only a friend, and wasn't ready for anything else. I hung up, and that was that.
But it was his turn to avoid me, and I couldn't find him to give the gift back. I gave up trying and kept it in a drawer in the bathroom. A month later I threw it out. If he wouldn't take it back, I certainly wasn't going to keep it. I feel bad about that too.
The puppy love ended.

Let the Games Begin

NaNoWriMo has officially begun. Its day Two, and I currently have 15,071 words thus far- waaaaaaaaaay ahead of schedule.

*bang*

Nanowrimo

Yes, the time has come for another year of Nanowrimo eating away at my soul. I already have a novel plot going for next month, and I can't wait! *squee*

If you're trying to write a novel, this is your ticket to stop procrastinating. Nanowrimo stands for national novel writing month. You can get to its website by clicking on the dumbo icon on the left. It's a nonprofit organization created by writers, for writers. 30 days of literary abandon, the goal is to write 50,000 words in the month of November. Nano offers a set deadline to get your pens moving along nicely, with forums and plenty of nice people to help you along, even if it means giving you a good stern kick in the behind.

This is my second year participating in nano. Last year I roped four of my friends into it as well. Friend 1 (aka Owl), Friend 2 (aka Farmer's Daughter), and I successfully finished our 50,000 words on time. Our other two friends, however, fell a little behind, but put forth a valiant effort during out write-in night at my house. Some people are opting not to participate this year, whereas some new friends are planning on joining up. We've already got at least two write-ins planned for this November. These write-ins are a whole night (we lasted from 9pm to 5:30am last year) of typing frantically, updating our word counts every couple of hours. It gives a tremendous boost to the word counts, too. : )

The bit of wall next to my computer is covered in my colored flash cards that outline what my plot consists of so far. This is a new method I'll be trying on for size this year. If you're interested in what my novel will be this year, check out my author page on Nano. http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/412835

I CAN'T WAIT!!!

Opened eyes

I've never noticed before how cruel people can be. How blind was I?

A Few of my Favorite Things

Books- these are propably the best (material) things in the whole wide world. I already have multiple posts about my book-love, but it couldn't hurt to put it all down again. The whole book creation process intrigues me. Really. Ideas --> paper --> agent --> publisher --> print --> my bookshelf. And then I read the books, and get ideas of my own. May sound boring (if not a little insane) to some of you out there, but I can't get enough of this. So many stories to be told, so many things to read. My current project is Dracula. Not my normal read, but it was reccommended to me by a stranger, and who knows?

Sour Patch Kids (or other forms of mildy sour/sweet gummies)- My favorites are the red ones. Enough said.

Taylor Swift's music- she is by far my favorite artist. It's still good satisfying country, but with an appreciated pop edge. She seems very down to earth, and is very likeable. Currently listening to one of her (newer) songs, Hey Stephen. Its so giddy and upbeat, it's almost addicting. Here's some of the lyrics:

"Hey, Stephen, I know looks can be decieving

but I know I saw a light in you.

And as we walked, we were talking

I didn't say half the things I wanted to.

Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window

I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold.

Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel

Can't help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you

Can't hekp it if there's no one else

Mmmm, I can't help myself."

And plenty more where that came from with Taylor. There's pretty much a song for everything you'll ever need: crush songs, love ballads, friendship, one for your parents, and of course, the breakup songs (both angry and sad). Yeah, so there it is.

Guys- yes, they've made it onto my list of favorite things. At least... a select few have made it. Because I certainly know more than one guy out there who whould NOT make it onto this list. So, I shall revise this and say Nice Guys have made it to my list. The kind who open doors and the whole lot.

Classic Movies- I mean the good movies. The ones from the late 20s, the 30s, 40s, 50s, and yes, some from the later years, like Dirty Dancing. Black and whites. Westerns (High Noon) , romances (An Affair to Remember), mystery (The Thin Man series), comedys (The Mouse that Roared), holiday (A Wonder Life), action (Indiana Jones), odd stuff (Harvey), and so much more. Much, much more. If you don't know who Audry Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, Gene Kelley, or Betty Davis are, you are seriously lacking in life.

Hrmph

School starts tomorrow for us here. Its a bittersweet thing. Bitter: summer freedom ends, stress, homework begins, last first day of grade school. Sweet: seeing friends everyday again, new clothes, always something to occupy you, and the season FALL.

Fall is my number one season. I love everything about it. The weather here in the northeast is fantastic. Cool days, vivid colors, and the beginning of the best holiday season. The clothes you get to wear are perfect: not too bundled up, but just enough to sport a favorite jacket with jeans. And even school gets to add to the fashions with backpacks (I am disregarding the new school policy against backpacks and purses inside. It makes no sense.) And the LEAVES! Oh, lordy be. You might think they change slowly, but you're wrong. One day you look at the trees in your yard and say 'hey, I think this is starting to turn!' Next time you glance up, BOOM, they're all different colors. Deep reds, purples, yellows, orange. Ah, my heart's already breaking for the thought of it. Then they fall, and the raking begins. I even love that chore. Good memories about jumping in the piles and covering each other in them. Halloween brings the pumpkins and squash, the scarecrows and sometimes up here, the frosts. Fall foods are really scrumptious, too. Pumkin spice granola bars, apple pies, dried and salted seeds, homemade soups for the colder days, mashed sweet potatos- what else could anyone want?

Did God just call me an idiot?

To start with, The Shack is truley one of the best books I have ever read. It's changed my whole perspective on religion. And I'm not even kidding. I also confess to having thought of God as this old white man, the "bad cop" of all bible situations, while Jesus was the "good cop" (you know- saving people, doing whatever he's told, healing the sick). And the Holy Spirit- that's always confused me, not gonna lie. But this book seriously changed how I look at things.

Even if your skeptical about the God thing (as I was), read this book. If you don't change your mind about things once you finish, no harm done. But that wasn't the case for me. I had my mom buy the book for her to read on a plane ride, but as soon as we got home, I stole it and read myself. I was curious- its such an author success story, as I read in Writer's Digest one issue. It held incredible ratings, and has been on the topseller list for quite a stretch. I wanted to see what all the hubbub was about. What I found was understanding.

The book explained many of the hard ball questions that people throw at God- why is there so much hurt in the world? Why aren't the innocent and children protected from evil? How could God send his son down to die for humanity while he sat up on his cloud? How do we know God is with us? Why no direct contact with people? And for me, what the heck is the "holy spirit"? And it answers all these in cleverly written dialogue between a man well past his last straw (Mack), God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. God is firstly portrayed as a heavy black African woman who loves to cook. Jesus is a middle eastern worker with a workshop. And the Holy Spirit, called Sarayu, is a tiny Asian woman who constantly works out back in the gardens.

And my favorite part of the book is when Mack is talking to Papa (God- and yes, he calls her Papa when she is in the form of a woman) about his emotions. She elaboratly explains that he is afraid of raw emotions and touches on some other topics. Mack listens carefully, nods, and sums it up in a simple sentence "So I'm afraid of emotions and (something else I can't remember). Anything else?" God sighs and mumbles that men are idiots sometimes and bustles into the kitchen. Laughing, Mack shouts back "Did I just hear God call me an idiot?" God's reply: "if the shoe fits, honey... If the shoe fits..."

I cried about eight times while reading this, and I can't express enough how glad I am that this book was published. Please, please read it. It's wonderful, and it really makes you believe that this 'holy trinity' does care about you and me.