time flies

Christmas 2006

Christmas 2007

Christmas 2008

negligent...

Yes, Yes I am. Tough luck, Charlie. But why would I waste my time blogging when I could be spending my time with family--including one very awesome little niece?
I mean, I love you guys--but she's just so darn cute. Here we are on the day after Thanksgiving, getting our Christmas trees. Yes, we are rocking crooked hats. I think it's going to be the new style. Forget tilting the baseball cap--that's all been done before. We're going after the winter-hat tilt! And thumbless mittens. I wasn't quite cool enough for that one, so I left it to Avery to carry the trend.

neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring!

Yep. I think the title pretty much says it all. I can stop writing now.

But I won't, not just yet. In case you're wondering: yes, that is a quote. It's from A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle, one of my favorite authors. I love Madeleine simply because she's real. Her characters are real. Real people that screw up and are confused and want to do the right thing but don't always know how. (The flying unicorns and singing stars and strange entities like It are just a bonus.)

"Mom," Meg Murry says, whining a little. "Charles Wallace says I'm neither one thing nor the other--neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring!"
"Who cares?" says Calvin. "You're Meg, aren't you?"

Sometimes I'm a lot like Meg. Even though logically we know that people don't fit neatly into pigeonholes, we still try. We still find it confusing or disheartening when we can't fit ourselves into some tidy category. I get frustrated, feeling that I fit nowhere.

Logically, no one "fits." I know, I know! Since when are emotions always logical? "I'm neither one thing nor the other!" I cry with Meg.

Who cares? I'm me. Me, with all my diverse bits and pieces. Deep down, I know that I am better off this way. God made me this way, and he's not in the habit of screwing up. And I do belong. I belong to him.

kinda queasy

Well, sports fans, I just submitted my first grad school application. Gulp. I feel sort of like that time I went to prom by myself...
Ha ha. Ok, not that bad.

I should find a way to post my writing sample for y'all to see. It is definitely the largest cohesive chuck of polished writing I've ever done. 40 pages! Hopefully it's good. To be honest, I've read it so many times I don't even know. Well, except for that new ending I stuck in at five o'clock yesterday...

Yeah, guess what I did all weekend. Yep. Nothing but. Ok, so almost nothing but. I did get out for church and coffee and powerflex (gar!), thankfully, or I would have gone mad. But now it's done. It's out of my hands.

Where's the Tums?

shhh! it's a secret!

Shh! Quiet! Come here--closer, closer. Want to know a secret? Do you? Come under the table with me, and I'll tell you. Oops--watch your head. Shh. Ready?

Deep down inside, I'm a romantic. Gasp! Shock!

It's true. I may not cry during movies, or particularly like babies, or send 'touching' greeting cards, but I'm vulnerable to romance nonetheless.

This very morning, as I backed the car out of my garage at 7:39, I was positively floored. The sun wasn't quite up yet, so everything was that silvery gray color--except for the white, white snow. I'd say six fresh inches. As my little Cavalier pushed its way down my long gravel driveway, the snow was deep enough to crest over my hood, sending silvery white waves of flakes up before me. It was lovely.

And then I noticed the trees.

The lower half of my driveway is wooded on both sides, and this morning it was a fairy land. Every branch of every tree was coating with several inches of snow, all white and graceful and perfectly still.

I had to stop the car. My heart practically pounded with the force of all that beauty. I guess I'm not always so tough, after all.

yeah...

I haven't posted in a while. I know, I know. The fam's in town, the leaves need raking, the Christmas presents needs sewing, the cookies and pies need baking, and...
I've decided to apply to grad school. Pretty much need to get all that done right now.

Oh, no. I'm not quite last-minute. Just...relatively close to last-minute. It's a good thing I'm so good at the hustle. What degree? Oh, yeah. I've decided to go for my MFA in creative writing, with a fiction focus.

More details to come, as I get them. Things are still pretty loosy-goosey. My job this week is to select the schools I wish to apply to and set up a schedule of what's due when. And figure out what to send as my writing samples. I have a lot of rewriting to do! I tend to start something and drop it as soon as anew idea comes along, which is fine if you're just writing for recreation. But now I need something...well, something at least mildly impressive...

I voted!

Yes, here I sit, proudly sporting the "I Voted" sticker, which handily coordinates rather well with my blue shirt. (An accidentally perfect wardrobe choice, may I add. I was not thinking of such matters when I opened the closet this morning, I assure you. No, I thought only of wearing comfortable shoes, in case I ended up standing in line for an hour or two.)

I am reminded of the "Be Nice To Me: I Gave Blood Today" stickers that are handed out when you donate blood. Unfortunately, about half of the time I line up to give blood, I end up with the slightly lame "I Tried To Give Blood Today" sticker instead. (Stupid iron test! What's one little point, huh? So close...and yet so far. But I digress.)

What I'm wondering today is why I haven't ever seen a "I Tried To Vote" sticker. Surely they should exist, right? Somewhere at some point in time today someone will get turned away from the polls, right? It must happen. Well, I think they deserve a sticker, too, just for trying.

Go vote!