A couple of weeks ago, my car started acting funny. All of the men (Dad, Jas, and my brother) decided I needed new spark plugs and wires, the sooner the better. Jas cleaned my air filter and all was well. I planned on buying the new plugs and wires with this Friday's check. I also planned on betting an oil change for good measure. Until then, things were running smoothly...
I got in my car to go to work today and it didn't want to start. When I finally got it going, it said, "But I don't want to!" "Too bad..." And I took off down the road. A mile down the road, it stalled at the corner. I made my turn and went about another mile to turn around in the grocery store parking lot. I turned in, turned around, and died in the middle of the aisle. I started it. It died. I did this repeatedly with no luck. Finally, I called my daddy to bring me Mom's car.
Now, I got Mom's car. "Mustang Sally" is playing and mocking me. The car is on empty. My car had almost a full tank because I had used the last of my money to fill it. Okay, there is more money but I like to leave $100 in my checking at all times just in case I forget to write something in. Or a lot of somethings. I'm running late for work at this point. I decide to get gas closer to town. I stop at the last station before work because the low fuel light is on. They are getting new pumps and they don't have any gas...
I finally just gave up and went to work. I can't get into too much trouble at the library, right?
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Teenage Rachael
In the interest of writing YA, I think that it is important to remember what it was like to be a teenager. What did you like? What did you do? What did you LOVE? And, what drove you nuts? So, here is a list about teenage Rachael.
1. Throughout high school, I lost about 60 lbs, taking me from "Fat Sweaty Betty" to "Freak B*tch" or just "Betty." I am serious. My guy friends called me these names.
2. I drove an '89 Firebird, sky blue and rust. I loved that car. LOVED it. I called her Venus and she was a tank. But, oddly enough, she would stall everytime I was at a certain corner. Never failed.
3. One of my favorite things to do was pick up my best friend, Missy, and our boyfriends, get in said Venus, and drive. We would go to the state game area or stop at the store and buy a Stewart's Cream Soda.
4. Another one of my favorite things to do was to go to teen night at the bowling alley. Only people 18 and under were allowed in. There was a DJ and for one price you could bowl all night. It originally went to 1 am but they eventually changed it to 12 because there were so many problems. IT was basically an excuse to act stupid, eat nachoes, hit on guys, and watch everyone smoke illegally. Good times.
5. I belonged to a group of friends that called themselves The Rejects. There was me, your friendly neighborhood goth, Janae, the jock, Sara, the shy but preppy girl, and Missy, the outsider. Missy was my best friend through most of high school and is now. I used to practically live at her house. We would go for five mile walks then eat frozen pizza and nachoes. Yum.
6. I dated about seven guys in high school. Most of them were disgusting and I will never forgive myself.
7. It used to drive me nuts, but my mom wouldn't allow me to spend hours on the phone long distance with my boyfriend. And she would pick up occasinally to make sure I was behaving.
8. I always behaved... on the phone. ;)
9. My favorite highschool bands? Hole, Garbage, Marilyn Manson, KoRn, Limp Bizkit, Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Oleander, Weezer, and Blink 182. I am not proud but sometimes I really do miss Fred Durst. And Manson was the hottest in the boob suit.
10. I am not kidding when I say that I spent a bulk of my first two years of high school wearing men's Kikwear jeans with 54" to 69" wide legs and super tight shirts. I was proud of my ever-improving body. When I was 16 I started wearing super tight jeans then I switched to all kinds of pants. Blue and black striped or plaid. I dyed my hair black and, for a little while, had purple or red or blue or green or pink bangs. I used to draw on my face with eye-liner. I would still do all of this if I could.
1. Throughout high school, I lost about 60 lbs, taking me from "Fat Sweaty Betty" to "Freak B*tch" or just "Betty." I am serious. My guy friends called me these names.
2. I drove an '89 Firebird, sky blue and rust. I loved that car. LOVED it. I called her Venus and she was a tank. But, oddly enough, she would stall everytime I was at a certain corner. Never failed.
3. One of my favorite things to do was pick up my best friend, Missy, and our boyfriends, get in said Venus, and drive. We would go to the state game area or stop at the store and buy a Stewart's Cream Soda.
4. Another one of my favorite things to do was to go to teen night at the bowling alley. Only people 18 and under were allowed in. There was a DJ and for one price you could bowl all night. It originally went to 1 am but they eventually changed it to 12 because there were so many problems. IT was basically an excuse to act stupid, eat nachoes, hit on guys, and watch everyone smoke illegally. Good times.
5. I belonged to a group of friends that called themselves The Rejects. There was me, your friendly neighborhood goth, Janae, the jock, Sara, the shy but preppy girl, and Missy, the outsider. Missy was my best friend through most of high school and is now. I used to practically live at her house. We would go for five mile walks then eat frozen pizza and nachoes. Yum.
6. I dated about seven guys in high school. Most of them were disgusting and I will never forgive myself.
7. It used to drive me nuts, but my mom wouldn't allow me to spend hours on the phone long distance with my boyfriend. And she would pick up occasinally to make sure I was behaving.
8. I always behaved... on the phone. ;)
9. My favorite highschool bands? Hole, Garbage, Marilyn Manson, KoRn, Limp Bizkit, Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Oleander, Weezer, and Blink 182. I am not proud but sometimes I really do miss Fred Durst. And Manson was the hottest in the boob suit.
10. I am not kidding when I say that I spent a bulk of my first two years of high school wearing men's Kikwear jeans with 54" to 69" wide legs and super tight shirts. I was proud of my ever-improving body. When I was 16 I started wearing super tight jeans then I switched to all kinds of pants. Blue and black striped or plaid. I dyed my hair black and, for a little while, had purple or red or blue or green or pink bangs. I used to draw on my face with eye-liner. I would still do all of this if I could.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The only thing that could make me feel better this week...
My fiance, Jas (I give up on Pirate J), is an engineer. He works for a company that makes machines that measure stuff. I don't really understand it, to tell the truth. His work stories are long and boring and have words like "sphere" and "calibration" in them. I usually smile and nod to get through these things. Anyway, part of Jas's job is flying all over the country to install and fix machines. In the past month he has been to Palm Beach, Boston, and L.A. He's gone Monday through Friday almost every week.
Before Jas took this job last November, we had spent every day of our then over seven years together, well, together. Not everyday. But in those seven years we only spent about 14 days apart and most of those were for my job at the time, the bridal shop. For three days a year I was in Chicago buying stock for the following season. The other times we didn't see each other were because he went to Florida once to pick up his grandfather after his grandma passed away and because of snow. Though, I do remember sending my father out to pick him up once when there was a blizzard. Such is our relationship. I am practically an only child so I love having someone to play with. He makes me laugh. I love just being able to see him.
You'd think that this new career would have me feeling miserable but it really doesn't bother me. My father drove truck over the road when I was growing up, Monday through Friday, every week. My mother raised me, stayed at home with me. I have actually kind of enjoyed Jas being on the road. I don't have to shave my legs unless I plan on wearing a dress. He doesn't see just how lazy I have become. When I tell him, "I worked on my novel every day last week," he doesn't know that I only edited ten pages a day because that's all that I can handle. I did sell myself out last week when he noticed I had read three books and three magazines. Still, for a while, things were wonderful. He was gone all week, when we would have been too busy to really do anything anyways, and he came home on the weekend and spent time with me. We went to the movies and dinner and laid in bed and talked. It was great.
However, the problem became that everyone wanted Jas's time. One weekend he had to fix his mom's car, help his dad with the pigs, fix a friend's truck, and take me to dinner. By the end of the weekend, he had taken no time for himself.
Jason's hobby is restoring classic cars. He picked this up from my dad and they work on cars together. It's quite cute. Jason took this week off to work on his car. I understand, I really do. BUT, I am feeling a little neglected. I suggested that we go to the mall or a tourist town in the area and he yelled at me, "I am doing nothing but working on my car this weekend!" Well fine. I pretended he wasn't home for most of the week. Then I woke up today CRABBY. All I wanted was one day of his time. I make a point to ask as little of him as possible. Take me to dinner Friday nights. Maybe go to a party Saturday night. I try not to cut in on car time. But he shouldn't have to spend time with me. He should want to spend time with me. I exploded into tears.
It's been a rough week. I am lonely because I usually spend a half hour on the phone with him. Saturday we have a wedding that neither of us want to go to and Jason is making a big deal about because we could see 7 Mary 3 and Sponge in concert instead. On top of this, there was a hole in the dress I bought and I thought I was going to have to wear soemthing else. I tried on all of the appropriate dresses in my closet and NONE of them fit. I feel fat and ugly and stupid and friendless. I am beginning to feel a little crazy. Someone I care about broke my heart. Work is crazy busy. My car is in need of repairs. I am weepy and lonely and even a little clingy. I couldn't think of what would make me feel better.
Then it just happened.
A lady I work with, who we will call R, had a dream about me last night. We were in a restraunt or bar and I was with a really cute boy who was not Jason. Jason came in and looked very mopey and I said he just wasn't handling things too well. Another guy came in and all three of them got in a fight over me.
That just makes me feel grand. :)
Before Jas took this job last November, we had spent every day of our then over seven years together, well, together. Not everyday. But in those seven years we only spent about 14 days apart and most of those were for my job at the time, the bridal shop. For three days a year I was in Chicago buying stock for the following season. The other times we didn't see each other were because he went to Florida once to pick up his grandfather after his grandma passed away and because of snow. Though, I do remember sending my father out to pick him up once when there was a blizzard. Such is our relationship. I am practically an only child so I love having someone to play with. He makes me laugh. I love just being able to see him.
You'd think that this new career would have me feeling miserable but it really doesn't bother me. My father drove truck over the road when I was growing up, Monday through Friday, every week. My mother raised me, stayed at home with me. I have actually kind of enjoyed Jas being on the road. I don't have to shave my legs unless I plan on wearing a dress. He doesn't see just how lazy I have become. When I tell him, "I worked on my novel every day last week," he doesn't know that I only edited ten pages a day because that's all that I can handle. I did sell myself out last week when he noticed I had read three books and three magazines. Still, for a while, things were wonderful. He was gone all week, when we would have been too busy to really do anything anyways, and he came home on the weekend and spent time with me. We went to the movies and dinner and laid in bed and talked. It was great.
However, the problem became that everyone wanted Jas's time. One weekend he had to fix his mom's car, help his dad with the pigs, fix a friend's truck, and take me to dinner. By the end of the weekend, he had taken no time for himself.
Jason's hobby is restoring classic cars. He picked this up from my dad and they work on cars together. It's quite cute. Jason took this week off to work on his car. I understand, I really do. BUT, I am feeling a little neglected. I suggested that we go to the mall or a tourist town in the area and he yelled at me, "I am doing nothing but working on my car this weekend!" Well fine. I pretended he wasn't home for most of the week. Then I woke up today CRABBY. All I wanted was one day of his time. I make a point to ask as little of him as possible. Take me to dinner Friday nights. Maybe go to a party Saturday night. I try not to cut in on car time. But he shouldn't have to spend time with me. He should want to spend time with me. I exploded into tears.
It's been a rough week. I am lonely because I usually spend a half hour on the phone with him. Saturday we have a wedding that neither of us want to go to and Jason is making a big deal about because we could see 7 Mary 3 and Sponge in concert instead. On top of this, there was a hole in the dress I bought and I thought I was going to have to wear soemthing else. I tried on all of the appropriate dresses in my closet and NONE of them fit. I feel fat and ugly and stupid and friendless. I am beginning to feel a little crazy. Someone I care about broke my heart. Work is crazy busy. My car is in need of repairs. I am weepy and lonely and even a little clingy. I couldn't think of what would make me feel better.
Then it just happened.
A lady I work with, who we will call R, had a dream about me last night. We were in a restraunt or bar and I was with a really cute boy who was not Jason. Jason came in and looked very mopey and I said he just wasn't handling things too well. Another guy came in and all three of them got in a fight over me.
That just makes me feel grand. :)
Thursday, August 7, 2008
When everything comes together...
I am a quilter. I love planning the quilt, thinking about it, but, while quilting, I complain nonstop about it. I hate measuring. I hate cutting. I hate sitting at the machine. I despise putting on borders, in fact think it is hell. So, what is it I like about quilting? What is it that makes me buy the fabric and plan the quilts and do all of that stuff I hate?
I love to see it come together.
I'm much the same about writing. While I love thinking about the story and how it comes together. I hate writing it, only because I spend the whole time thinking that I write like crap. I hate editing, it's like pulling teeth. But reading it back makes me feel the same way that finishing a quilt does...
Satisfied.
I love to see it come together.
I'm much the same about writing. While I love thinking about the story and how it comes together. I hate writing it, only because I spend the whole time thinking that I write like crap. I hate editing, it's like pulling teeth. But reading it back makes me feel the same way that finishing a quilt does...
Satisfied.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Names
I was thinking about names today. See, when I was in school there were two boys who had the exact same name. I think that it was even down to the middle name. We had to call them Tall Brian and Short Brian. In high school, Tall Brian was expelled. Short Brian slowly became Brian. There was another Rachael in my class, only she spelt it Rachel. Both of our last names started with "S," we sat next to eachother in every class we had together (alphabetical), and we both spent a bulk of our class time reading and writing in our journals instead of paying attention.
However, you never run into same names in books. I recognize that this would make books really confusing, having a bunch of Elizabeths in the same class, but it would also make them realistic. I recently read a book where the main character in a first person p.o.v. refered to every character by first and last names. I understand this. I think this is realiztic. BUt wouldn't be even more realistic if there was a Kristen Brown and Kristen Smith?
However, you never run into same names in books. I recognize that this would make books really confusing, having a bunch of Elizabeths in the same class, but it would also make them realistic. I recently read a book where the main character in a first person p.o.v. refered to every character by first and last names. I understand this. I think this is realiztic. BUt wouldn't be even more realistic if there was a Kristen Brown and Kristen Smith?
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