What's lacking in my writing:

OH my goodness.

So, I found out today that someone has searched my blog for the term 'nephew.' (Have I ever mentioned how much I love reviewing my sitemeter stats? (Which, incidentally, has led to the discovery that most people who come across my blog randomly find it by searching for pictures of Olympus Mons and gallbladders. Which. Okay. I feel a little weird about. But whatever.))

Anyway.

But the 'nephew' search made me think of all the things you might find or not find by searching my blog for certain terms.

Terms like 'cow.' Which shows that I write "Holy Cow" a heck of a lot.

Or 'monkey.'

Or 'poop.'

But it made me realize that there are some glaring omissions in my use of words.

I, for instance, have never written about gnomes. Or grease. Or gravity.

Er.

Maybe I have a thing against words starting with 'g.'

In any case, at least it's given me some topics to ponder, perchance to write. Perchance.

I wonder what would come up if I searched for 'perchance.'

Let's see, shall we?

Holy Eggs!

Wow. I completely forgot I took this picture, that is until I was searching through my image files just now looking for something to spice up my blog, and maybe provide a topic.

So. Yeah. Holy. Cow. Or, rather, holy egg. (That is, if you believe that an egg having two yolks makes it holy. Which, erm, isn't really consistent with any religion I know about, but then I could be ill-informed. Although if this egg was holy, I'm afraid it's long gone by now. And yes, it was delicious.)

Uhhhh... I'm so sorry. You see, I'm spending all of my creative juices (mmm...delicious creative juices) dreaming up unlikely plot elements for my novel. Like finding a box with a compass that's kind of filled in with blue wax. And a woman who appears dramatically riding a glowing bear.

Yes. My story has definitely taken some weird turns. And, like, unexpected ones. And holy heck, (that is, if you believe that 'heck' is holy, which, in my book, it most certainly is not), I haven't even gotten to where the original fairy tale begins. STILL. In fact, as I pointed out to my younger sibs this evening, I'm still roughly five to ten years before the fairy tale starts, depending on what age I decide everyone will be when the adventurous siblings head off into the woods and one gets turned into a deer.

Yup. That's what I said: a deer.

So, I'm afraid my poor little blog posts will continue to be dull and boring and...will have pictures of eggs with two yolks...maybe...until November has ended and I've participated in that giant December 1st "Thank Heaven it's OVER" party. Except, at the rate I'm going (glowing bears notwithstanding) it'll be January at LEAST before I finish the rough draft of this darn thing. Of, like, 2008. So there.

Ripping ABBA and The Redeemer and avoiding novel-writing

Hello, all.

I just wanted to tell you that you are all cool. And that sitting here on my bed typing in my blog in the half-dark (because it's cloudy today here in Utah) I kind of miss you all. Because you are cool. And because I currently feel...a little separated from you all. I guess.

Um.

And also, I'm currently transferring more of my (rather eclectic) CD collection onto my laptop so I can more easily listen to music while I type up nonsense for my NaNoWriMo novel. I've just finished ABBA and The Redeemer (an oratorio written by former Mormon Tabernacle organist and LDS composer extraordinare Robert Cundick) and now I'm moving on to the MoTab CD Consider the Lilies and then I'll do Elgar's Enigma Variations. (Mmm. Delicious Elgar... Oh. Er...wait...)

Novel-writing is actually going swimmingly so far, and I've surprised myself by being exactly on schedule. Apparently if you write 1667 words per day you'll just make the 50,000 word mark by the end of the month. So far, I've got 5412, which is just about right on for the first three days of the month. (Of course, I haven't written anything today, but I'm sure I'll get up where I should be. After all, it takes 3 days of doing something to form a habit, right? Right???)

Speaking of habits, I've also surprised myself recently for the last two months by getting up early enough in the morning to give myself roughly an hour of exercise time. (In case you were wondering, I DID exercise that day I slept in--I just exercised rather late in the day.) As a consequence of that (and other little changes like eating NO sugary stuff & consuming more veggies (veggies now quiver in fear at the sight of me, the great veggie predator)) I've now gone down one pant size (hooray!) and only have (mumble mumble) more to go until I'm...there. You know. THERE. Where the beguilingly beautiful women hang out. (I think it's some sort of nightclub, with a blue neon sign above the door that says "The Lovely Lounge," or maybe it's "The Lovely Lozenge." Yes, that's it. In fact, I'm quite sure of it.)

I guess I didn't really need to tell you all that, because it's not really all that important, (except that it's nice to snuggle into pants that aren't quite as large as they used to be, and it's nice to be using holes in my belt that have never been used before), but I thought that since I recently spent a post ranting about how miserably dumb I can be, I ought to post a minor accomplishment as well.

So, I guess I ought to get down to business & actually accomplish something today besides posting to my blog & ripping CDs and making Primary phone calls and reading a third of Princess Academy for the book-club meeting on Tuesday and...HOLY COW! Missing a very important message from Cathy!

Sorry folks--gotta go!

(P.S. It's a GOOD message, so no worries!)

***Edit: Okay! Just got off the phone with Cathy, and she authorized me to tell you that they have a new baby daughter who was born yesterday at about 3pm-ish! Her name is Gwyneth Schaller, although I forgot to check the spelling, and I also forgot to check & see if she has a middle name, so I'll have to adjust this info later. Also, you might be interested to know that she weighs 8lbs, 4oz and that she's 21 and 3/4 inches long. For more info, I'm sure you could call the Schallers sometime, and they likely wouldn't mind. Not even a bit.***

So if you ever start packing...

Okay--so my blue funk is gone at the moment, mostly because I'm just so darn tickled at a dream I had last night (or more accurately this morning).

Sometimes I have dreams that I'm moving; these dreams usually involve some sort of process of packing up all of my belongings & trying to get them over to some other place. (Which I guess is the essence of moving. Duh.)

Anyway--while these dreams obviously have distinct differences from each other, (like the one this morning had me moving from one room in a house into another room in the same house--the new room had a bathroom inside the bedroom & two bathtubs--I even asked one of my roommates why on earth they put two bathtubs in the same room...but anyway--), they always seem to have a single thing in common.

I pack up what I believe is all my stuff, and then I suddenly realize that--HOLY COW!--I've forgotten to pack up the stuff in my closet & all the stuff in my drawers, so I still have TONS of things to go through & try to get in boxes. (Usually this is also accompanied by a feeling of urgency, like I have to be out of the room in 10 minutes or something.)

Delightfully, the dream this morning contained the same familiar scenario. I still had all my clothing (and board games--who would dream about board games???) hanging up in the closet, and I noticed several boxes kind of lying around in a tumbled heap that I hadn't sorted through yet.

I woke up this morning & just had to laugh at myself, mostly because it's really kind of a silly thing to dream about.

However, I still haven't been able to figure out exactly what this dream means. Here's one theory though: I want to move on in my life, but I still have things that are holding me back. I want to ignore these things, but heck--I can't move on without my board games, can I??? So, I still have things to do before I can make a clean transition.

Hey! That actually doesn't sound so bad. Maybe the important thing about dream interpretation is not that you figure out exactly what your silly brain was trying to process, but that you discover something important about yourself that you need to address, whether it was what your subconscious was trying to tell you or not.

So, if you'll excuse me, I have a few boxes to pack up.

And also, here's a weird picture I made out of a closeup of a peach blossom (ooooh...neon....). Seemed kinda dream-like, so I thought I'd include it. Enjoy!

So, what do May showers bring?

Snow. Of course. It's only natural. You see, for the last week, we've been having unseasonably warm temperatures, and the week before that, it seemed like every day the high temps were either meeting or breaking records set back in 1935. (Or was it '34?)

Anyway, so on Friday, it was pretty warm, but windy. Saturday it was cooler, and kind of overcast. Today, as we were going to church in the morning, piling into the car while trying not to knock each other out with the huge ol' bags o' church stuff we were all carrying, my dad opened the garage door, and I gasped. And yelled. And I quote myself:

"Snow! What the--HOLY COW! IT'S TOTALLY SNOWING! IT'S JUST NOT RIGHT!" Yes, indeed. While the grass was still vibrantly green, (and shiny, in fact--wet from all that precipitation), there were thick clumps of something that was undeniably more flaky than rain. And sleet. It was totally snow, yo.

It snowed again briefly as we were coming home from church. It didn't stick, and in fact, while the snow line has moved significantly down Mount [won't mention his name, especially since I found out he was two-timing with Libby - Kim, you were so wise to refuse him], still, it's well above even the highest house in my little community.

So, I guess I didn't mind so much. And it's not really SO strange that it snowed in May... Here in Utah, that's actually kind of typical. It's that temperatures were in the high 80's like TWO DAYS AGO. So, that thing they say about "just wait 5 minutes and the weather will change"? Yeah. TOTALLY designed for where I live.

Mama said there'd be days like this.

Okay. So, yesterday was really pretty awful.

Well, okay. It was really just the morning that was awful. I mean really awful. Well, I guess not as awful as falling from a truck that's going 70mph just after the love of your life tells you he's in love with your best friend, and they're going to run away to Reno, (who the heck would run away to Reno?!?), so you bounce along on the abrasive pavement for awhile and then come to a stop. And then a bee stings you.

It wasn't that awful.

But it was pretty bad.

On Monday, I got a call from someone at one of the local libraries who wanted to set up an interview with me. You see, I had applied for the "Flexible Assistant Librarian" position (which basically means that you have to be able to answer any question that anyone throws out to you, because hey--you're flexible, and also, you need to be able to work odd hours, like from 3am to 6:30am, and that daunting 4pm to midnight shift). So, I started thinking to myself, "Oh, cool! I want to work in a library again. And look! There's an opening! In the library!" So, I applied.

Anyway... So I got that call Monday, and I scheduled an interview for Tuesday morning. I made sure to get enough sleep the night before, so I woke up all bright-tailed and bushy-eyed, (which was probably the beginning of my troubles), and actually felt pretty confident that I was going to waltz right in & knock their socks off. (I think librarians wear socks. Gosh. Maybe that was my first mistake.) Come to think of it, maybe librarians don't waltz either. That little jig I did probably didn't help matters at all then.

The interviewers were very kind & very professional, and despite that, the moment I sat down at the large conference table they were using as an interviewing desk, I was suddenly so nervous that I could hardly remember how to say "Hello" and "um." (No, actually I remembered how to say "um" very well. Rather too well, in fact.)

Well, before the interview, they had all the applicants fill out what amounted to a mini quiz in world culture & history, to see where we had strong areas of expertise. Ugh. I had forgotten how much I hated feeling like I didn't know what I was doing, especially since it had been two years (if not more) since I'd even thought about world culture & history, let alone tried to prove to someone that I knew anything whatsoever about it.

So, during the interview, my brain decided that it was definitely time to go to sleep. I mean, of course it would want to go to sleep. It was a completely comfortable environment, except for the small, niggling feeling that I was undergoing a microscopic examination at the wrong end of the microscope. So, while my brain proceeded to shut down, I forgot everything about anything I had ever done, except stupid and odd anecdotes, like helping a patron find a book titled "Everyone Poops," which anecdote I positively giggled over like an overdosed cheerleader. (And yes, I did just link you to Amazon. And no, I'm not being paid for it. Viva big online bookstores.)

The interview proceeded to go from bad to worse (a hackneyed phrase, yet well applied, I think) as I began to start sentences, change my mind halfway through about what I wanted to say, then forget entirely where I was going with the sentence. Ugh. I felt unbelievably stupid, and of course, the longer the interview went, the stupider I became.

Finally, the ordeal ended, and I've done nothing much since besides rehash the experience, and perform a few hundred mental self-flagellations for good measure.

I just haven't felt that stupid for a long time. And now, I don't think I ever want to set foot in that library again! It's not that the interviewers were unkind--as I said, they were very nice. But, reliving that in context is not exactly high on my priority list. In fact, what am I doing??? Do I really want to be a librarian? I'll feel that stupid all the time!!! I have to rethink my life. And that always makes me irritable. And a little taciturn. (Um. See my previous post. Not this one.)

But you understand why, don't you??? I hate to admit this, but I really am rethinking things with my life plans. I've actually been doing some design work for another scrapbook company (and don't worry--it's totally on the up & up), basically drawing doodles, and purchasing nifty gizmos like drawing tablets & whatnot. And I actually enjoy it. A lot. I mean, I stayed up until about 5am one night (morning?) trying to finish stuff for this company, and then had to go to work at my daytime job after only 2 hours of sleep, but I feel like I'm finally using one of my talents in a way that will enable lots of people to see what I do, and enjoy it. (Even if they do use it for scrapbooking.)

I don't know. And I guess that's what's driving me the most nuts. I like to know where I'm going (even if it takes me forever to get there). So this sudden uncertainty has hit, and I'm just a little bit lost.

And rambling--HOLY COW! How long is this post, anyway?

Sorry friends, I'll stop now. Thanks for reading this, and for caring enough to...erm...care. Yeah. Y'all are great.

And no, I'm NOT DEPRESSED. Just a little confused. As always.