Ugh, so incommunicado for the last...(yikes) 20 days. Apologies all around. I don't suppose it would help to say that I'm working on a story inspired by what may be the best title ever? Maybe? Okay.
So, basically, life has consisted of working and weekend trips to the homestead for the past two weeks. In theory, all of these things are good. But I'm looking forward to spending the foreseeable future in NYC to focus more on things both immediate (cleaning my room) and long-term (actually finishing a story). Plus, now that summer is winding down, my psychological need to get out of New York at every possible moment is decreasing also. A lot of people say they like New York in the summer because there's no one around. I fundamentally disagree with this. Even though there are fewer people, I think that everyone who is still in the city starts to inhabit their own personal sphere of heat, sweat, and all-around rage at everyday tasks, like simply waiting for the subway. The overwhelming discomfort and fact that the heat makes people twice as pissed off at their morning commute than they usually are definitely makes up for the fact that a fair amount of the population is sunning themselves elsewhere.
Ok, that rant felt good, but onwards. I'm also throwing myself upon the mercy of friends, family, and now the internet to start a freelance tutoring business. While working with wine would be amazing, I've had to accept that a second job like that just wouldn't make sense right now, especially with how much I'm working. So, if you know of any Manhattanite (or Brooklynite) children in need of some educational guidance, please let me know.
So, this weekend is supposed to be completely perfect, and I plan on spending it outside finishing this gloriously-titled (and hopefully well-written) story - to be continued!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
"Your Dreams Will Go Higher Than Expectation Could Be"
I got that in a fortune cookie once, and saved it. Despite the semi-broken English, It's always given me a little bit of encouragement whenever I rediscover it.
Truth is, I have a lot of dreams for myself. As counter-intuitive as it may sound, I sometimes find myself avoiding looking them in the face, since it sometimes feels like I'm so far away from achieving even one of them. I know that I'm young in the ways of the real world, and I probably have years to work towards goals that I've set for myself. The honest truth is, though, that my impatience and disappointment compound and work against me - to the point where I feel stupidly paralyzed by my own inactivity. All of that sounds like a bunch of nonsense and self-pity, which it sort of is. This is just where I am this Monday night, I guess.
However, this was not mean to be a post where I just bitch at the abyss of the internet. This is actually supposed to be motivating! So, tonight I wrote a list of the short-term, tangible goals (dreams, if you're feeling wistful). By tangible, I mean things that are actually possible, like "always be reading something for pleasure, even if it sometimes feels like work" as opposed to "marry someone for his intelligence and charm only to find out that he's the secret crown-prince of Monaco." You get the idea.
The first, and the one I'll share here, is to publish something, even in the most obscure, only-to-be-read-by-my-immediate-family, type of online journal, by the end of this year. This means several things. The first being, I have to write something. The second, logically, is that I have to finish whatever it is that I write. This may seem deceptively simple, but it can be quite the opposite - especially finishing the things that I start. I've been starting different stories at a pretty good clip lately, so the trick will be making myself bring things to a swift and successful conclusion. So, I'm going to forge ahead. If I'm lucky, I may end up one little step closer to the things I want.
Truth is, I have a lot of dreams for myself. As counter-intuitive as it may sound, I sometimes find myself avoiding looking them in the face, since it sometimes feels like I'm so far away from achieving even one of them. I know that I'm young in the ways of the real world, and I probably have years to work towards goals that I've set for myself. The honest truth is, though, that my impatience and disappointment compound and work against me - to the point where I feel stupidly paralyzed by my own inactivity. All of that sounds like a bunch of nonsense and self-pity, which it sort of is. This is just where I am this Monday night, I guess.
However, this was not mean to be a post where I just bitch at the abyss of the internet. This is actually supposed to be motivating! So, tonight I wrote a list of the short-term, tangible goals (dreams, if you're feeling wistful). By tangible, I mean things that are actually possible, like "always be reading something for pleasure, even if it sometimes feels like work" as opposed to "marry someone for his intelligence and charm only to find out that he's the secret crown-prince of Monaco." You get the idea.
The first, and the one I'll share here, is to publish something, even in the most obscure, only-to-be-read-by-my-immediate-family, type of online journal, by the end of this year. This means several things. The first being, I have to write something. The second, logically, is that I have to finish whatever it is that I write. This may seem deceptively simple, but it can be quite the opposite - especially finishing the things that I start. I've been starting different stories at a pretty good clip lately, so the trick will be making myself bring things to a swift and successful conclusion. So, I'm going to forge ahead. If I'm lucky, I may end up one little step closer to the things I want.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Deception/Devotion
As promised. I've been posting a lot of these initial attempts at stories, which, for me, is the most challenging part of the process. After I accrue enough with potential, they'll become more substantial and, hopefully, complete.
In the center of the very highest dome at the top of the church ceiling, there is a painted eye. I spend a lot of time looking at it when I'm at Mass with my mother, especially during the parts when we kneel on that cushion-thing that folds out. I hate it because it hurts my knees. I used to be able to get away with sitting during the kneeling parts, but I guess I'm too old to sit now. One Sunday, my mother suddenly started glaring at me when I stayed in the pew while everyone else moved to the floor. She whispered something at me, in a tone that she could barely use in church. Anyway, she meant business, and now I have to suffer through it like everyone else.
I told my mom that I saw the eye blink once, but of course I didn't. It's fun to see what I can get away with, and sometimes she pretends like she believes me, even though I know she doesn't. She loves my imagination, but I wonder if she knows how much I make up and how much is true. Sometimes, I forget that it's not true, and I walk around thinking that God's eye blinked at me, until I remember that I made it up. My parents make a big deal about lying, how it is "the one thing they don't tolerate", but I've been caught a bunch of times already and haven't really faced any consequences. I know it's bad for me to do, but sometimes it's fun to think about things like the eye in church and how amazing it would be if it moved and looked at just me, out of everyone in the room.
After Mass, I have Sunday School in the family center across the street. Some people call it CCD, but that bugs me because I don't know what those letters would even stand for. Anyway, we're split up into groups by which grade we're in, and we sit at round tables with nuns who teach us out of these workbooks. For the past few weeks, we've been learning about the ten commandments. I sit next to Peter, who goes to my school, and make illustrations of whichever commandment we're being taught that day in the back of my workbook. It's funny - in regular school, I would never talk to him during class and definitely wouldn't show him stupid drawings of "Thou Shall Not Steal" (a stick figure stealing a pile of money getting struck by lightning from a vengeful stick figured version of God). No matter how much I try to forget it, everyone in my grade seems to remember the Valentine I put in his desk last year. I thought it would be totally secret, since I only signed it with my first initial. Unfortunately, the only other girl whose first name starts with "B" was absent on Valentine's Day, so my foolproof plan fell through pretty quickly. Peter and I are the only two from our school in the group, so I can talk to him without everyone noticing.
Today, we had gotten to "Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery", which apparently has something to do with sex. I don't really know anything about what sex is, aside from things the boys whisper to each other at school and scenes in movies where my parents make me leave the room for 5 minutes. So, I just started to draw a bridal couple, the kind that they put on wedding cakes. Then, when Peter would look over (we sat next to each other), I would whisper the commandment under my breath and scribble through the couple as I said "adultery" - almost growling it so the nun wouldn't hear.
In the center of the very highest dome at the top of the church ceiling, there is a painted eye. I spend a lot of time looking at it when I'm at Mass with my mother, especially during the parts when we kneel on that cushion-thing that folds out. I hate it because it hurts my knees. I used to be able to get away with sitting during the kneeling parts, but I guess I'm too old to sit now. One Sunday, my mother suddenly started glaring at me when I stayed in the pew while everyone else moved to the floor. She whispered something at me, in a tone that she could barely use in church. Anyway, she meant business, and now I have to suffer through it like everyone else.
I told my mom that I saw the eye blink once, but of course I didn't. It's fun to see what I can get away with, and sometimes she pretends like she believes me, even though I know she doesn't. She loves my imagination, but I wonder if she knows how much I make up and how much is true. Sometimes, I forget that it's not true, and I walk around thinking that God's eye blinked at me, until I remember that I made it up. My parents make a big deal about lying, how it is "the one thing they don't tolerate", but I've been caught a bunch of times already and haven't really faced any consequences. I know it's bad for me to do, but sometimes it's fun to think about things like the eye in church and how amazing it would be if it moved and looked at just me, out of everyone in the room.
After Mass, I have Sunday School in the family center across the street. Some people call it CCD, but that bugs me because I don't know what those letters would even stand for. Anyway, we're split up into groups by which grade we're in, and we sit at round tables with nuns who teach us out of these workbooks. For the past few weeks, we've been learning about the ten commandments. I sit next to Peter, who goes to my school, and make illustrations of whichever commandment we're being taught that day in the back of my workbook. It's funny - in regular school, I would never talk to him during class and definitely wouldn't show him stupid drawings of "Thou Shall Not Steal" (a stick figure stealing a pile of money getting struck by lightning from a vengeful stick figured version of God). No matter how much I try to forget it, everyone in my grade seems to remember the Valentine I put in his desk last year. I thought it would be totally secret, since I only signed it with my first initial. Unfortunately, the only other girl whose first name starts with "B" was absent on Valentine's Day, so my foolproof plan fell through pretty quickly. Peter and I are the only two from our school in the group, so I can talk to him without everyone noticing.
Today, we had gotten to "Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery", which apparently has something to do with sex. I don't really know anything about what sex is, aside from things the boys whisper to each other at school and scenes in movies where my parents make me leave the room for 5 minutes. So, I just started to draw a bridal couple, the kind that they put on wedding cakes. Then, when Peter would look over (we sat next to each other), I would whisper the commandment under my breath and scribble through the couple as I said "adultery" - almost growling it so the nun wouldn't hear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
