Fighting Kindle, Question Mark...

I was vehemently opposed to these electronic reading devices. I might still be. I haven't decided 100%.

I love the heft of a book in my hands. I hate the older, lesser quality print jobs that leave black ink on my thumbs forefingers. I love going book shopping. I hate not finding the book I want and having to wait two weeks for it to arrive because I have to order it online. I love some of the beautiful cover art on some of my favorite novels. I hate some of the tacky cover art on some of my favorite novels. I love having all my books on shelves, they are beautiful. I have packing and movies all my books, they are heavy and cumbersome in transit.

Here is the thing that has made me go "hmmm..." (things that make hmm, hmm, hmm - old school song flashback!);

Jackie told me that you can scroll over a word you don't know and your Kindle will give you the definition. That is the coolest thing I have ever heard even though it comes from what I once deemed a source of evil.

Also, how cool is it to go, "I want to read this book." and then just download it. I could be reading one of the three books I found at the library today (and couldn't check out because I am moving and should be packing instead of reading and, ahem, writing blogs).

My question is... what happens when it breaks? Obviously the books are some kind of file that can be transferred so can they be saved on your desktop hard drive so when one kindle breaks you can load them again on another. I am sure you can, because it would be stupid otherwise. Who wants to lose their personal library every few years?

Yes, I call my books my personal library. And when I have my own house I will actually have a room that is the library that only houses books, comfy chairs and dishes filled with awesome bookmarks so you can always save your place in style.

Anyway, should I keep hating Kindle?

I Have No Clever Title Ideas for this Post...

Incase you were inclined to inquire... I love my current blog background. I believe it will be the basis for my kitchen, when I have a kitchen someday.

Moving back to the place where heat tries to win your affection with persistence. I am not looking forward to that. I am also super sad every time I look at Caleb, Sadie or Sophie. I have been hugging them A LOT. I am starting to think I was right before when I would move but not really try and make friends because now moving back to where my friends and family are means I have to leave my friends and family here. Wah-wah!

Melinda had her baby, Joslyn Joy, and I am glad that I am at least going to meet the munchkin. Rachel had her baby, Lillian Mae, and I am super excited to see that kiddo when I return to the desert.

I know it is the right thing, though, and I am excited to see everyone and I am super grateful for my surprise early trip so I can be there for Christmas. This is obvioulsy a middle of the night ramble. Sorry. I have been a sicko and I am in too much pain to sleep but I am too tired to stay awake unless I am actively doing something. Like blogging nonsense!

Speculative...

Part of building my writing portfolio includes having a spec script written for the three main types of TV shows that are on the air. This means I need to write a script for an already airing hour-long drama, half-hour comedy and half-hour sitcom. Hour-long? Check. Half-hour comedy? Check. Half-hour sitcom...

I don't watch any of the sitcoms that are on right now. I never really have liked sitcoms other than Friends and That 70's Show and both are (lamentably) off the air. I hate the lame and obvious joke setups. Laugh tracks and studio audiences irritate me. Overall, I just don't find them that funny.

But I need to pick a show to watch all the seasons of (to get the tone and back story right) and write a spec. I decided to look up the highest rated sitcoms and pick one of those to do. Guess what they are? The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother and Two and a Half Men. REALLY? Two and a Half Men is appalling to me. It makes me like Duckie a lot less. How I Met Your Mother... ugh. Cloying. The Big Bang Theory... I don't hate this show. I don't feel an overwhelming need to keep up with it but I could watch the past seasons and not want to stab myself.

Problem solved, right? WRONG! How am I supposed to write a spec script for that show? I am no scientist. I am dork but not in the way those guys are. Hmmm... idea. Maybe I can write a spec about them being out of their element in a literary world... I love when I get on here to rant and end up with a decent idea. Sweet.

Okay, problem solved.

Shut Eye...

I never have been able to fall asleep with easily without medicinal assistance. And even with assistance it still takes a while and sometimes the medicine doesn't help at all. And when I say never I literally mean that even as a baby I had a hard time falling and staying asleep, especially at night.

I have tried everything. Anything you think of I have attempted. The only thing I haven't done yet is have a sleep study conducted but, to be honest, I really doubt that I will be able to fall asleep with those things attached to my scalp if I can't fall asleep in my own bed when I am dead tired.

Chronic insomnia is a sign of depression, anxiety and fibro so I hit the no-sleep trifecta. It's not all bad. I get the computer (and hulu or blinkx) all to myself if I want it. Yep, that's the only perk I can think of about my rearranged sleep schedule.

Apparently it is pretty weird for your body to reverse cycle so drastically. I have always been a 3-10am sleeper and I can get away with it because I freelance but lately it has been more like 9am-5pm, which is ridiculous. I miss being a real person. So, I will probably have to try a sleep study and get checked out to make sure there is nothing seriously wrong. I don't think there is but, hey, I watch House and you are always supposed to tell your doctor about weird things like this.

This is the part where you think you have a solution for me but you don't. 28 years of this. I really have tried it all. I've tried staying up, I've tried forcing myself to lay in the dark for hours, I've tried warm teas, I'm tried sound machines, I've tried Ambien, I've tried benadryl, I've tried natural sleep aids, I've tried working extra hard all day long to expend energy, I've tried not eating for four or five hours before bed...

I am just a freak. A very tired freak.

Written by Jen...

Those are my favorite words.

A Happy Rant, For a Change...

I am so happy. It all started 29 hours ago (allowing for daylight savings). I grabbed a book that Steph checked out from the library and, in an effort to avoid doing anything I needed to do, began to read about organizing my life more effectively. Yes, I found it humorous as well.

UNTIL IT CHANGED MY LIFE!

There was a quiz that you take in the beginning to ascertain what "brain style" you have. This isn't a "you're a blue" or a "you're a melancholy" or whatever else they have to segregate your personality. This was specifically meant to show you how your brain reacts to the managing of time and, well, stuff.

I have an Innovating brain style.

And then I read the most eye-opening honest 16 pages about myself. It was crazy because there is a mental me (which sounds awkward) but then there is a action me (also awkward). These are terms I have created for this blog. In my mind I know the exact right way to organize my time and efforts to be the most effective, blah, blah, blah.

But the action me (the one that matters) NEVER follows through.

I spend A LOT of my time, every day, feeling like I am a failure because I just don't get you normal people. I don't get 9-5 jobs, I just don't get how you manage to avoid doodling random story lines for three hours every day, I don't get how you manage to be... normal.

Well, what this book taught me is that I am weird. I am completely different than 80% of the population when it comes to what motivates me to get moving and the way in which I process and prioritize.

And that isn't an excuse but it isn't irrelevant either.

So I am embracing my weirdness instead of fighting (very ineffectively) against it. I am the kid in the classroom that understood what the teacher was saying in 5 mins and then spent the next 45 daydreaming about Matt Damon and the movie I was writing at the time. And then I didn't catch the assignment or the second half of second, more complicated aspect of the lesson.

I am the girl who was crazy awesome at every job because the only way to keep myself from crying from boredom was to give myself impossible goals, which I would reach, much to my delight and surprise. And then I'd be bored again. So I wouldn't go. Almost every employer I have ever had has said a version of this to me at some time, "If you would just come to work regularly you would be a supervisor by now." To which I would... quit. Or just not show up. And get fired. Mostly I quit but I have been fired once or twice.

I am the girl that writes blogs at 2am.

BUT I am also the girl who has a million ideas in my mind at every second of the day. I am the girl that forces herself to keep reading the book she is reading even though she all of a sudden has an idea for an awesome story. Why? Because normal people finish the books they are reading. Normal people doing things in order.

And yet...

Now that I have embraced my non-normalcy I am FREE. I was reading a book last night and randomly thought I should write some articles for work. So instead of wrestling with it I just did it. After five articles I went back to reading. Then I wrote 8 more articles. Then I read another book. I also created a more effective binder for my papers and used clippings from old magazines as labels.

It's great. Now instead of allotting five straight hours for work and then not doing it because it sounds awful I allot an hour and a half. I set the timer and when it dings I give myself an hour for whatever time. And when it dings I go back to work.

It sounds schizo to you I am sure. But I spent 7 hours working today, once it is all totalled and I don't feel like it at all. I feel like I had plenty of random-nothing-thought-percolating time. This is very important to Jen's like me.

I recognize that I am SUPER LUCKY because of the work that I do. I am amazed by people that go to work and classes at regular times. It is literally AMAZING to me.

I am just so happy because I have some pretty big things coming my way and I would be a liar-liar-pants-on-fire if I didn't admit that I have been concerned about my ability to follow through. Turns out I just needed to rewire my ideas about what is productive. It sporadic and insane by I wrote $148 worth of articles in that seven hours instead of avoiding.

I am living my uniqueness, as extreme as it is.

It's bliss that the things you need come to you when you stop fighting who you are.

NEW FAVORITE QUOTE (and then I am done, I swear);

"Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and to be that perfectly." - Saint Francis de Sales

I Know I Just Posted but...

Rabbits are creepy.

Have I already discussed this? I can't recall. Anyway, I finally read Watership Down. Well, like three months ago. I was hesitant to read it because, to be honest, I am not one for the rabbit stories. The Velveteen Rabbit is probably the only one I care for. I used to whisper to Fuzzball that he was real. I'm weird. Well established. Get over it.

But I read it. And I was fascinated. And completely creeped out. Freaky semi-warren bunnies not telling the new rabbits about the traps. That part disturbed me so much I had to read it three or four times. And then I told Steph and weirded her out. And then the crazy General bunny shredding the rabbit's ears when they fell out of line... is the world rabbits live in? I want to adopt a warren rabbit just to save it from the crazies.

Yup. It is 2am and I am thinking about the rabbit book I read three months ago. What did I tell you to do? Get over it.

For the New World is Like Heaven and We'll All Be Rich and Free!

Um, that is the song Caleb is singing at the moment. It's really not all that relevant to what I am going to write but he's cute.

So, I have received all the information. I have processed it and made a logical choice. And I have received confirmation that I am on the right path.

I am moving back.

Crazy, right? I really wasn't expecting that. But I know it is right and I am completely happy and content with the decision. It isn't out of fear or failure or any of that. It is just the right choice for the course my life is taking. I will be super busy in about a year and I will be living somewhere far away. I want to use this year to spend time with my family. Since I work online and will be taking classes online I can be anywhere. So that is where I choose to be.

I realize that I was ranting about not wanting to go back. Because I didn't want to. But I think it was more that I didn't want to feel forced. And I don't. I know I could make it work up here. I know it is my decision. I also know that I am stronger now than I have ever been before and I don't need to worry about falling into old habits and patterns. Because that old way of life holds no appeal for me now.

So, YAY old friends. Sorry new friends. I will still love you, though.

Have You Lost That Loving Feeling?

Woh-oh that loving feeling...

Do you still get crushes? I need you to answer and I'd prefer your answer to be yes so that I can feel less ridiculous. Thanks!

No, really... I get mad-crazy-crushed out on actors and isn't that supposed to be a teenage chick thing? Aren't I supposed to be attracted to stable jobs and reasonable vehicles at this point in my life?

Um, what's it like to be a normal person? I always have this quote from Pleasantville in my head; it suits so many occasions in my life. Tobey Maguire's characters shouts, "You can't stop something that's in side you!"

Well, great, because what's inside of Jen is ALL KINDS OF CRAZY!

Whatever, you love me.

Opportunities to Fail

I have had a ton of opportunities to fail lately. Times when giving up seemed the humane choice, not just the easy one. I have been told by just about everyone that I know and is supposed to be on my side, at one time or another, that things didn't seem to be working. That I was a burden. That I needed to go.

But that isn't the right answer. The answer I keep getting it, "Wait. You don't have all the information. There is more to this decision and it will come with time."

Try telling that to EVERYONE. Nope, I don't know my choice, yet. I have very vague plans. A lot of "if this happens", "if that happens".

I don't do well with rules and authority. Had lots of them both growing up and my nature is quietly rebellious. So when I get a bunch of people telling me what they think I should do my immediate instinct is to do the opposite just to show them that I don't care what they say. Which is dumb, I know. So imagine how difficult it was been lately! The crazy half of me wants to freak out on everyone. But I am keeping it in check because I know, that whichever way the pendulum swings, I am doing the right thing by waiting to be fully informed.

I guess what I am saying is... BACK OFF!

The Wanna's and the Don't Wanna's

I WANNA...

- Go to Vancouver Film School for their super perfect Writing for TV and Film 12 month program. This is one of the tippidy-toppidy schools for learning and getting into the television and film industry. And I love the weather in Vancouver and that I can get all the health care I want with my work/school visa.

- Save money for my sojourn north.

- Be as hot as Jessica Alba. (What, I didn't say the "wanna's" were going to be realistic!)

- Finish my freakin book. I am a SLACKER.

I DON'T WANNA...

- Go back to Tucson. Yeah, it would be cheaper. Yeah, I could save more money. But I'd be in Tucson. I love so many people there but... that place is, to quote Heather, a 'pot-hole'. At least for me it is. I am so afraid I will get stuck. Again. Plus, I love my ward and my friends here. I like my life and who I am here. It is more the person that I really am. I like that no one here judges me on the past because, well, they weren't around for it. It is kind of nice.

- Talk myself out of how excited I am about my new goals. I see how all of the steps I have taken in life have led me to this point and to these realizations. I know they are right for me but I also am the queen of over-analyzing.

- Exercise. It is so painful! But I am going to! Jessica Alba does...

All Hallow's Eve

Round 1: I heart Halloween. Maybe it is the fat kid in me that loves an excuse to have at a pillowcase full of candy (yes, I am from the pillowcase class of trick-or-treaters). Maybe it is that I spend so much of my internal life pretending to be someone else that I relish the opportunity to dress accordingly without fear of mockery. I don't know. I do know that if I were hot enough I would totally be Katherine for Halloween this year (I always like the evil person most). Also, I want the super awesome necklace seen above mostly because it is insanely cool. It is called a vampire bite necklace. It's probably my new favorite thing.

Round 2: I went to Melinda's and watched JK Rowling on Oprah and I am embarrassed by how emotional I got. As someone that hopes to someday be a published writer it was intense to hear a lot of Rowling's confessions about how she felt prior to all the success. I know I won't ever be in the same sphere as her, that isn't the point. I just know what she meant when she said she didn't have a lot of self-belief but she had this one thing. She knew how to tell a story. And that is how I feel EXACTLY. It's not the most important thing in the world but it is what matters to me and it is what I love.

Round 3: I totally believe in magic. Maybe not levitating freaks on TV (Criss Angel, you creep me out) but I believe that magic exists. Loving someone is a form of magic. Music is a form of magic. Beauty and curiosity and life and death... it is all magical. The most magical thing of all though is hope. It gives you strength you would never have thought you had. That is why losing hope is so awful. Of all the things that you can lose, hope can actually break you. That is why I am 28 year old struggling writer that still plans on going to schools and taking chances. Because I will hope for all of my dreams until the last breath fades from my chest. And then I will be rocking out in heaven.

I'm Uppers, I'm Downers...

The title of this post is my favorite quote from Will and Grace, a TV show I never really cared about (but if they made a Jack and Karen show I would watch it religiously!) but it was always on at that weird 9:30-10:30 pm slot when it seems too early to go to bed but you don't want to watch something you might start caring about because that makes wake you up all the way and then you won't be able to fall asleep for hours... does anyone else have this problem? I have been an insomniac since birth so...

Anyway, Karen (Megan Mullally) says it to the janitor she has been seeing (she was pretending to be a maid, he was against the upper class) as she is detailing their many differences. It just always made me laugh. She says something like, "I'm filet mignon, you're peanut butter and jelly. I'm upstairs, you're downstairs. I'm uppers, I'm downers." I don't know... that's the gist.

And it fits my current life.

Everything is all over the place. Horrible things keep happening. Amazing things keep happening. I don't know if I can handle all this crazy frenetic motion. I am literally so sad that I can't speak at least once a day and then so happy that I am giggling with excitement at least once a day. And I am not bi-polar. Everything is so vivid and intense right now. It's frightening.

ALSO... and this incredibly dorky... I had to open a twitter account for my new awesome writing gig and I clicked on the actors I am supposed to do weekly updates on (one neat thing about twitter is that they verify accounts with celebrities so if you are crazy enough to want to stalk them you can stalk the actual them, if they have an account) and, like, two people I actually know. Because I don't care about twitter.

Anyway, I logged on tonight and on my home page was a tweet (it physically hurts me to write that) from Ian Somerhalder. So I was confused. Because your homepage shows updates from people you are following and I am not following him. As beautiful as he is. I just can't be that dorky. I am following Conan O'Brien because he makes me laugh. I might add Kanye West too. He says crazy things.

BUT I am not following Ian Somerhalder. So for two very dorky 11-year old girl seconds I thought... did he tweet me? That sounds weird. Anyway, of course he didn't. Why would he? This is when I learned about retweeting. The chick that I report to for Portrait had retweeted one of his posts. So that is why it showed up on my page.

But, when I posted my update, it went to the top of my page and there we were, next to each other. I'm just saying... he could do worse. He could do a thousand times better, true. But he could also do worse.

Escapism 101

Sometimes life thoroughly sucks.

These are the times when the tried and true methods of escapism can come to the rescue. There is a lot trash talk surrounding the lacking virtues of escapism but I firmly believe that it has a time, place and purpose in this world. Just like disc jockeys. Still, you must be mindful as some forms of escapism (and disc jockeys) often lead to increased suckage.

AVOID:

*Drugs. Trust me.

*Alcohol. Trust David Hasselhoff.

*Random Sexual Partners. Trust Hugh Grant.

*Violence. It is a sweet, sweet release but tends to result in arrest.

PARTAKE IN:

*A New Hair Color.

*A Good Book

*Hot Chocolate

And, obviously...

*

D

A

M

O

N

I feel better already.

TOO MUCH!

Please stop. We don't deserve it and I think that we need a little more space between life lessons. This is too much to take. I used to think that wasn't something that existed but now I know I was very, very wrong. Please. Hurt me more. Take an arm or a leg or my ability to write or see or read or all of them. Just leave her alone. Let her have him back. I deserve decapitation before she deserves any of this. PLEASE!!!!!

Please stop.

I BELIEVE...

That family comes first. Always.

That your natural hair color is just a suggestion.

That a vegetarian/vegan lifestyle is healthiest... and that bacon is delicious.

That God loves me. Why else is there lemonade and carne asada and Ian Somerhalder's face?

People that don't read are less interesting to talk to.

Splashes of color make a much bigger impact than looking like a hot pink leopard from head to toe.

Purchasing cute shoes is the antidote for most boughts of the mini-blues.

Libraries are magical. Bookstores are nirvana.

That the characters in stories really do exist somewhere, especially the ones I love.

That loving too much is a sign of strength, even when it ends up hurting.

Life is too short to try and impress others. Just be who you are because you are impressive enough.

In filling up the shopping card at anthropologie.com even though I know I can't buy any of it. Yet.

In dreaming, whether you are 15, 29, or 72. Never, ever stop dreaming.

In revisiting priorities but never settling. Yes, there is a difference.

In climbing even when it seems easier to fall. You might not reach the top but you'll be much higher than those that have chosen the ground.

Finding the Last Sentence...

I am half dead with my evil kidneys so I am trying to get all my online stuff done before I go back upstairs to completely give up on life.

I have been thinking a lot about the writing process. I am, by nature, a very logical person. This might not ring true to those of you that know me but it is accurate. I love a good manual or guidebook. Organized steps toward any goal are always hoped for. I have bought books on how to do make-up, I have devoured texts on how to write a screenplay, and I could give you at least five different meals plans for five different lifestyles and give you reasons why each one is better than the next.

Unfortunately, life isn't really all that step-by-step friendly. This is where my crazy comes into play. I get so frustrated and disillusioned when things do not go the way that I think they should that I run away and start over. I am trying to resist that urge now but anyway... the reason that this plays into my writing process is as follows...

Everyone and their mother thinks they know that right way to write. I have read plenty of books on how to be an effective writer. I collect suggestions from successful authors that I admire (admiration is key to me - I couldn't care less how Nicholas Sparks writes a book) and I try to implement their suggestions into my schedule. This is a good place for anyone to start.

I have learned, however, that every single writer has a completely different process and to try and mold yourself into anyone else's style or system is counterproductive. My writing process is haphazard at best and I could definitely be more disciplined about when I sit and write it out. That might lead you to believe that I am not dedicated to my story or that I am just floundering from scene to scene. You would be very wrong. I don't like to start a project until I know it will be the best it can be and that is why I fail to start a lot of things. It is not a great personality trait, this perfectionist tendency, and it really makes things that should be easy quite difficult. But even if it takes a week or two for me to get to typing again, please rest assured, I know exactly where Remie is going to end up. It is so clear to me that I can see each character in my mind. I know the very last sentence.

I love the very last sentence.

I guess my point is that I am done trying to find the "right" way to accomplish things. I think that however you manage to accomplish your dreams is the right way. Just soldier on and find your last sentence.

Trading Spaces...

I am moving out of Steph and Justin's within the next four months and I have started looking around for a place to live. I am super unwilling to move into a rental house with lots of other girls. I refuse to even entertain the thought of sharing a room or living in campus housing. I don't have a problem with 18-22 year old girls, I just don't want to live with them. Sorry.

My DREAM is to find a nice house for rent, which sounds crazy but in this part of the world it is actually pretty easy to locate two or three bedroom houses, or basement apartments which are the same size as the upper level of the house, for under $900. My greediness would like two bedrooms so that I can have an office/library/guest room. Or for a sister or older niece to move into if they want. I don't feel the same about living with a 20 year old niece or sister. But I have found a couple of nice 1 bedroom rentals as well. As a matter of fact my very favorite place (at this moment) is technically a one bedroom but it has a smaller extra room with tons of built in shelving. It could be my home office and library! And it is only two blocks from Steph's house and a block from my new favorite restaurant. The library will still be in walking distance, as a matter of fact it would be closer! Plus free cable and internet.

I just feel too old to have to deal with roommates. Landlords are hard enough. I want to be in charge of how my house looks. I want to not worry about if the smells of my weird foods are annoying other people. I want the AC at 68 and I want to watch Say Yes to the Dress or The Vampire Diaries without being judged! Hey, I am 28 years old, I have a lot of health problems, and I just want a nice place to hide away, you know?

Anyway... that is the dream for now.

Manipulate Dink

Whenever I type in my url for this site it looks like manipulate dink to me instead of manipulated ink. Oh, well.

I had a good birthday yesterday. Lots of birthday wishes. This is was only my second birthday away from Tucson (the first time was my 24th birthday when I was up in Olympia visiting Bethy) so I was a little worried I would be bummed, especially being sick and all, but it was actually just right.

I failed at having a first draft done by August 23rd. I failed miserably. And, though it is really only valid for the past month or so, I totally blame the kidney infection. Everyone knows that a writer's kryptonite is a kidney infection. Keep up, people! I still love my story and I am still excited to see how Remie gets from point A to point B (and C, D, E, F... all the way back to A. Lots of plot twists in this tale).

I really, really, REALLY need to better about "working" on my first draft and on my articles. I am so lazy. I think I might start posting my favorite lines from what I have written each week in an effort to feel accountable. Might.

Also, the word might annoys me. It sounds like my-nt, at least when I pronounce it. What is that you say? There is a simple solution? Just stop pronouncing that way? Thanks a lot Catherine Obvious! (Ha, sadly, I go the phrase "Catherine Obvious" from a really dumb Nickolodeon show that i, embarrassingly, really like).

Its like when Mom says pellow instead of pillow or melk instead of milk. It is not like when my Gramma Nye says warsh instead of wash or when I say crick instead of creek. Those ones are too cool for school, my friends.

In fine, I need to write more.

Infected Organs...

I have a kidney infection.
It hurts.
I hate pain killers. They make me all loopy.
Great birthday week, eh?
Man, I whine A LOT.

Family Feud

It BITES when two of your sisters are super angry with each other. Like, cage match angry. It is especially hard when you have a bit of an honest streak, like me, and you can't help but see both sides AND think that they are both being immature, even though their reasons for being upset are valid. It just sucks and I hope that they can work it out sooner rather than later. I love you BOTH. Now get over it please.

Also, I just spellchecked this post and I had not misspellings. Fancy!

High Maintenance

I have had a migraine for about a week and a half. If you have never had a migraine for that long then you have no clue how it hurts. If you have, then my heart goes out to you. Having a pain issue sucks. It has caused a lot of problems in my life. I have lots of trials that I could have been happy without. But it has forced me to learn who I am and who I want to be. It has forced me to realize that those two "me's" aren't always in synch with one another. It has taught me who my true friends are because there are those that just can't accept an illness that hasn't got any visual precursers, unless you count how dismal I look as I try to deal with the pain. I am a high maintenance friend, I suppose. I won't always be able to follow through with plans, no matter how much I want to. In the summer my pain gets worse. I am affected by the heat. I understand if these are things that just don't fit into your lives. But please don't mistake my understanding for an apology. I am not my illness but it is something that I have to deal with and something that you will have to accept in order to be in my life. I just don't have the energy to pedal around it anymore. I have fibromyalgia. I am in pain. A lot of the time. I am trying to live without daily prescription pain killers. That is a choice I have made that makes me physically uncomfortable but it is the right choice for me overall. This doesn't mean that I will never take pain killers again. If I need a shot for pain in the ER and if I need a few pain killers to help my body recuperate then I will take them. Pain pills have a place and a purpose. I just don't want to be on them every minute of every day. I realize this is a rant but I am in a lot of pain and I am sick and tired of feeling guilty about it or that I am inconveniencing others. I am just going to take care of myself from now on. If you get it, great. If not, well I can direct you toward some great reading material and fibro sources so you can understand better. I don't have the energy to explain it any further.

And We're Back...

WOW! A one week trip to Tucson is NOT ENOUGH TIME. I didn't get to see Taylor or Dylan. I missed Heather and Karina and I only saw Casie for about two minutes. Myke and Bry had to take an emergency trip to Reno which cut short my Turner-time. It was great to see my family but I didn't get to be with them nearly enough.

Baby news...

Mariah - FREAKING AWESOME! She is so smart and so sassy and she thinks she is the Momma of all the cousins because she is the oldest. She is a mini-Jen so, obviously, she is marked for greatness.

Ryleigh - Ry-bug was as crazy and pretty as ever. I didn't get to see her as much because she had to leave town but every time she called me 'Auntie Jen' my heart-broke a little. She is a very good cuddler and she can be so sweet...

Isabelle - Bisa is intensely gorgeous. She looks like a little beach pixie. She has those crazy huge cat eyes and her teeny button nose. Combine those with her long sun-bleached hair and she should probably have mermaid fins and a rock to sing on.

Wynter - Wynnie-bug was the smallest and the most reserved of the Tucson babies. She has the most adorable corkscrew curls that dangle at the base of her baby neck and she has Becca's gigantic eyes. She makes hilarious old man faces and talks in such a sweet, little husky voice that you just want to kiss her little cheeks constantly.

Jett - Baby Airplane has basically done a personality 180 since I left. He was smiling almost constantly and he let someone besides Mykel hold him. He was adorable and walking all over the place!

Braydon - Baby Beto was SOOO happy. He is a chunk and his hair is still as black and as full as the day he was born. I got him to smile when he saw me by making funny faces but Jeremy is definitely his favorite person in the world. Beto was not afraid of people and he let us hold him right away, unlike Wynter who took almost the whole trip to warm up to me.

Everyone Else...

I got to do some vegging with Mykel, but not nearly as much as we had planned on. We watched some Vampire Diaries she had TiVoed (sweet!). I got to see Jackie and Joey's new house which is AMAZING. Plus Jackie bought me El Molinito's so I owe her my first born child. Worth it. I got to hang out with Rachel and Sims with the added bonus of seeing Lani and Cruz. Rachel got me some Eegees so that was awesome too. I got a little crackfish time in with Cassafrass. I stayed with Michelle and we had late night conversations and watched Zombieland and Four Christmases both of which were surprisingly funny. And, of course, I got to see the rest of my family... Mom and Dad were hard to pin down, Tab was good about tagging along wherever we went, I saw Nick, Chris and Jeremy here and there. Becca was around and Ang came home on Thursday. I got to see both Grammas and Uncle Robert. It still felt too rushed, though. A few hours with your loved ones is just not satisfying. I cried A LOT on the last day, especially around Mariah who just tugs at my heartstrings.

I am glad I got to go. It is worth all the achiness I now feel from the humidity and the long drive. I will be in bed A LOT this week but I wouldn't trade it for a year of healthy weeks. I will never, ever take ten months to go home for a visit again. Three months is my max. I don't even think I will make that long.

I Never Thought I Would Say This But...

I MISS TUCSON!

Well, I miss my family and friends. And real Mexican food. And by "real" I mean from El Molinitos or Guadalajara Grill. Or Annie's frijoles and tortillas.

But mostly I miss my family. So I am very, very, VERY thrilled to be going to see them soon. I am going to make Mariah hang out with me constantly. Like, she will go wherever I go. Even if she doesn't want to. It's not kidnapping if you are the Auntie.

I'm Not Normal!

You have to imagine Rachel Dratch (from SNL) sitting in a tree, pretending to be Elizabeth Taylor with another comedian pretending to be Michael Jackson for the full hilarity of this blog's title to hit you. Or you have to be Jackie, who was watching that episode too.

I am a weird person. I have always known that I was "unique" and "quirky" but, I am ready to face it, I am just plain WEIRD. I am not saying it's a negative. It just is what it is. And it is odd.

*I like weird books and I read WAY more than is probably considered "healthy." And by weird I mean serial killer/murder mystery/crazy witch/vampire/scary stuff. I love it. I started reading Stephen King when I was 8. I'm a freak.

*I would rather be really cold than have to deal with being the slightest bit warm.

*I am happy to stare at bodies of water for hours.

*I wish I could be a mermaid - I am not kidding.

*I am terrified of being in a plane crash, I HATE taking off but I love having a window seat so I can stare at the clouds and the land below while I am way up high.

*I believe that I will be a published author someday despite the fact that I have yet to complete even one of the 30+ manuscripts I have on file.

*I am 27 and I am not married or anywhere near it and, gasp, I don't care. This is normal for most 27 year olds but for my specific "culture" it is pretty much old maid/spinster territory. Especially the not caring part. I used to care but now, eh, I tried the settling thing. It's not for me.

*I have a hobby that can best be described as Name Collecting. I collect names. I write them down over and over. I don't know why or where it came from but I have ALWAYS loved names. I named all of my Barbies and all of my stuffed animals. Sometimes more than once. I have some really abnormal names picked out for my kids. And I will not put them down because I don't want them to be stolen. I like to be different, can't you tell?

*I know that my eyes are technically hazel but I still call them green.

*I am short and I don't want to be tall. I am pale and I don't want to be tan. I like my glasses and think I might never get contacts or Lasik. I do want to lose weight, I am not one of those happy to be chunky people, but other than that I quite enjoy my visible otherness.

*I read Tolstoy and Us Weekly because I like seeing that being beautiful and rich doesn't make you normal! Maybe when I am beautiful and rich my weirdness will fit in better!

What makes you weird? Come on, throw me a bone people! I know you only have one or two peccadilloes (good for you!) but you can share at least one of them with your freak friend Jen, can't you?

Ode to the Villians...

Villians are what make the heroes so great. Without a truly notable villian you just have an arrogant do-gooder. Harry Potter minus Voldemort? Whiney teenager! Othello minus Iago? Paranoid schizophrenic! Right? I don't quite know what happened in my childhood to skew my sympathies toward the baddies so but, hey, someone has to be in their corner, right? My favorite villians are...

Iago (OTHELLO)
Tom Riddle/Voldermort (HARRY POTTER SERIES)

The Pale Man (PAN'S LABYRINTH)

Capitan (PAN'S LABYRINTH)

Jarett (LABYRINTH)
Tom Ridley (THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY)
Sue Sylvester (GLEE)
The Phantom (THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA)
Annie Wilkes (MISERY)
Willoughby (SENSE AND SENSIBILITY)
Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader (STAR WARS - if Star Wars had been written well)
Hades (HERCULES)
Frollo (THE HUNCHMACK OF NOTRE DAME)
Javert (LES MISERABLES)
Scar (THE LION KING)
Tybalt, King of Cats (ROMEO AND JULIET)

The Host...

It pains me to admit this. It really and truly does. But I just reread The Host and I must admit that I love it. LOVE IT. It is a book that I know I will reread again and again. It is hard for my to comprehend that the same person that wrote the Twilight books could write such a poignant and heart wrenching story that is basically about what it means to be human and what it is to struggle as a soul that is inextricably linked to a physical body. It is so amazing and the Twilight books are so stupid. Entertaining but dumb.

Stephenie Meyer tends to be fairly long winded and at points she is a little too repetitive but she has a gift for creating characters that have compelling and complex relationships. It is these relationships that serve as the momentum for her stories. Her plots tend to be anti-climactic and/or somewhat lacking but they aren't really the point when it comes to reading her books. She has a way of writing the with heartbreaking precision that pain and the pleasure of love and hate. As someone who is LDS I can also see a lot of religious themes in her writing and, while she is not on par with him, she definitely has a touch of the C.S. Lewis ability to both celebrate the spiritual without beating us over the head with it.

I guess this means I no longer hate Stephenie Meyer. As a matter of fact I rather admire her persistence in expanding technically and creatively. After the success of the Twilight series she could have easily just gone on to write whatever cheesy drivel she came up with. And people would have gobbled it up. Instead she took a decidedly sharp turn and challenged herself to do better. And she succeeded. As a writer myself I find that to be severely respectable.

She still needs help with the names though. Renesmee? Wanda? Wanderer I can deal with but Wanda? Eh. I guess I shouldn't complain. One of my main characters is named Enzo. But that is a cool weird name. Oh and her cousin's name is Aloha. Whatever... it's not up to me. Their names are their names.

Superman is SO Strong.

The title of this post is a direct quote from Ben Gotzinger. From six or seven years ago but, still, he totally said it. And he said it while we (we being whoever was at the Gotzinger's house at the time... I only remember Ben and Jay but I am sure there were plenty more people) were watching an episode of Smallville. I have only ever accidentally watched Smallville. Twice. And each time I did not care even a tiny but about the show BUT something hilariously funny occurred and I remember both instances of hilarity fondly. One was Ben saying completely sincerely, "Superman is so strong." when Clark Kent ripped a door off of a car. It still makes me laugh. The next time Jackie and I dropped by Adam's and he was watching (Adam was always making us watch the WB) and Jackie said, "Quadriplegics should never be scared!" I won't go into it but, trust, it was also hilarious.

That is my really, really, REALLY long winded way of saying... I don't care for Smallville. I netflixed two discs from season three because Ian Somerhalder is pretty. Leave me alone! Anyway, I was watching them and I just don't care about Tom Welling. I like a lot of the other characters. The guy who plays Lex Luther is a good amount of someday-evil and the guy who plays Lionel Luther is just creepy. Jonathan Taylor Thomas split into two JTT's in the first episode I watched. That was trippy. But you just can't care about a show when you don't like the hero.

I love Dollhouse though. That show is freaking fantastic.

To the Parents Nye

I just finished reading a pretty amazing story called If I Stay by Gayle Forman. It is about a girl who has to decide whether to live or die after a terrible accident kills her parents and brother and puts her in a coma. Naturally this lead to me thinking about my own family. There are times in the story when she is describing her little brother who is ten years younger than her. This lead to me thinking about Jeremy who is fifteen years younger than I am and who is part my baby as much as he is part my sibling. Any of you older ones should understand this. I miss him a lot. I miss everyone a lot but Jeremy is my little spider-monkey, my baby forever. It's true. Just ask him, "How long will you be Jen's baby?" and his answer will be, "Forever." I have trained him well.

But this is supposed to be about Norm and Kathy. I love my parents. I love their generous and kind hearts. I love that they love me for who I am even when who I am doesn't make much sense to them. I love that they are protective and defiant in the face of my illness and in the face of those that disbelieve in my illness. I love their flaws because they have taught me that being lovable and good doesn't mean you are perfect it just means you keep trying.

I love that they love each other ferociously. I have been very spoiled by my exposure to their relationship and I know I will never fall victim to settling because I have seen true love. I love that they gave me so many best friends in the guise of siblings and that through all of our crazy and unique personalities we have formed a strong web of love and tolerance that has shaped us for the outside world but that also shelters us from it.

Okay... I can't stop crying so I think this will be the end. I love you, Mom and Dad.

I Want Love...

I want love, but it's impossible
A man like me, so irresponsible
A man like me is dead in places
Other men feel liberated

I can't love, shot full of holes
Don't feel nothing, I just feel cold
Don't feel nothing, just old scars
Toughening up around my heart

But I want love, just a different kind
I want love, won't break me down
Won't brick me up, won't fence me in
I want a love, that don't mean a thing
That's the love I want, I want love

I want love on my own terms
After everything I've ever learned
Me, I carry too much baggage
Oh man I've seen so much traffic

So bring it on, I've been bruised
Don't give me love that's clean and smooth
I'm ready for the rougher stuff
No sweet romance, I've had enough

Sometimes you need Elton John to sing it for you...

She Gets it From Her Momma...

I blame Kathy Nye. I really and truly do. I also blame Johnny Depp but a little bit less than I blame Mom. My very first crush ever was on an actor named Gabriel Damon... he played Spot Conlin in Newsies and I was in love with his blue eyes... I have a thing about blue eyes and bad boys. I realize that does not make me unique in any way. I was IN LOVE WITH HIM! I was also 11. Ever since then I have quite often fallen victim to the celebrity crush. I thought it would mellow with age but nope. I should have realized this since my momma has been married for 28 years and is still half in love with Johnny Depp. It is in my blood, what can I say? Past crushes include Jonathan Taylor Thomas (don't act like you weren't in love with him too, we ALL were), Matt Damon, Colin Farrell, Jude Law, Ewan McGregor, Clive Owen, Topher Grace, Gerard Butler, and John Krasinski (Jim from The Office). Guess who I am currently in love with... and guess what color his eyes are... predictable.

Working from Home...

I am now employed by two web-content companies. They send me their orders and I do my research and writing from home and email them back. It is fantastic because it has completely eliminated the need for me to care about what I look like each day. It is also fantastic because I can watch TV and videos while I write. I like TV and videos. I am also being paid weekly which I like because I am terrible at saving money. And, yes, that includes from two Friday's ago.

Things I don't like are:

I am a PROCRASTINATOR so I occasionally find myself writing like a crazy person to meet a deadline I have been ignoring. I have only done this twice but it is unpleasant.

I get paid through paypal which SUCKS because it takes a few days to post in my bank account AND I can only withdraw $500 a month. Yeah. In two months I can get a paypal debit card and use it to pay for things so that will be fine but for now it is irritating.

My room gets hot. This may seem unrelated but I generally end up typing in there and it is too warm for my taste. Lately I have using the basement as my daytime workspace. Much, much cooler.

Re-Working of an Old Attitude

I have a very definite pattern to my life. I am a creature of habit, even when those habits aren't in any way productive. One of these is that when everything seems to be going right I start to freak out. Things can't be perfect forever. What is going to fall apart? When am I going to screw myself over? And then comes the self-destruct mode, like if I beat the misery to the punch I somehow have the upper hand. Not true. Logically, I know all of this.

But it is hard to alter behavior. Very, very hard.

Still, I am determined to be better and new. I am learning to use some of my escapist tendencies to my advantage. I have taken my silly, big-city dreams of acting/singing/writing and made them into more plausible goals. It is amazingly soothing for that ache I get gnawing inside of me. How have I accomplished this? Let me tell you...

1. I am writing every day. Even if it isn't Betwixt I am writing something. Maybe it's a TV show (yes, I actually think I have a fairly decent idea thanks to my lawyerly pal Charity) or just the treatment for another novel I think of (or dream up... this happens a lot. It is the benefit of completely bizarre dreams).

2. Okay, this is incredibly embarrassing to admit, but I am going to do it anyway (mostly because I don't think that many people actually read this)... since I am turning 28 in August I have decided that I will audition for American Idol this time around. Apparently 28 is the cut-off and for some reason that has motivated me. I doubt I will get anywhere, that isn't really the point, I just want to say that I tried. Why not? I don't want to be 29 and thinking, "I wonder..."

I am too old to collect anymore "I wonders".

3. I am taking an improv class in the fall!!! I am very excited about this. I love to act, I love to think on my feet, and I think I am somewhat funny. It is only six weeks and it is just for fun but what is wrong with that? A stage is a stage and if you know me at all you know I love a stage... it's like crack for Jen's like me.

I am trying to implement the rule that life isn't all or nothing. Maybe I can't win an Oscar or a Grammy but I can still sing and I can still act and I can still love it while living a normal life. It doesn't mean I have failed in achieving my dreams it just means I have tailored them to fit what truly make me happy.

PAST DUE

No, this will not be a post about being in debt. Well, I guess it is a form of debt. Karmic debt or an emotional deficit or some other hippie dippy new age term... whatever suits your fancy.

I had an unpleasant blast from the past recently. Most of blasts from the past are welcomed. I tend to stay friends with people that I have known and even if we don't talk often we are generally on good terms. This is why I don't handle these awkward occurrences very well. I am not saying that everyone stays friends with me forever just that the people I still talk to are around because we both decided to like each other for a while longer.

So this person told me I was too much "drama." What? Um, as in I watch too much drama i.e. Law and Order or Dexter... maybe he was referring to the fact that I like the show Glee and recently finished reading Schindler's list. I don't know. I am honestly baffled that there is a person in the world who considers me to be too much drama. I don't do anything. My favorite pastime is reading a good novel in my bed.

My feelings aren't hurt. I don't really respect this person's opinions which is part of why he falls into the past category. Who knows where he is coming from. It just goes to show you that perception is relative and directly relates to each individual and their frame of mind.

Or maybe I am just so over-the-top, Liza-Minnelli-in-Cabaret-dramatic that I can't see through the glitter and glitz that is my every waking moment...

Okay, that was dramatic. Hehehe.

The Craziest Weeks of My Life

... and that includes the times I blacked out from my migraine medications. Here is a chronological list of my life over the past 2 weeks...

1. A very good friend of mine called me at work to tell me she had found a rotting corpse when she went to check on a lady who no one had heard from in a week or so. Creepy. I was terrified and I didn't even see it!

2. My Gramma Hill, who is insanely healthy, was admitted to the hospital and considered in critical condition for a few days because of blood clots found in her legs and lungs.

3. Sophie Grace Draper was born on May 7th at 3:17pm and was perfectly healthy and amazing. (This is a good thing but it still contributed to some of the chaos).

4. Steph and Sophie came home on Saturday (26 hours after delivery!) and I went to Smith's to do some grocery shopping. I forgot peanut butter and Steph decided she wanted apple juice as well so an hour after I came home Justin headed out. While he was there a shooting occurred in the store. No lie. It turns out the police fired and the only person hurt was the bad guy but still pretty terrifying, especially before we knew what had happened. Justin is handling it well but I wasn't.

5. I have been feeling weirdly ill with migraines and stomach issues all weekend.

6. I got laid off... about four hours ago. They cut the writing department. I am not quite sure how they are going to manage that but oh, well. C'est la vie.

So, yeah, I need a vacation from my problems. Where is Dr. Leo Vankmen when you need him?

I am still in shock about being laid off. I was just given a raise and given full time hours so I was not at all expecting to be lose my job. And I don't qualify for unemployment because I didn't work in this city in 2009. Which makes sense but still adds stress! I have already started sending out resumes and I know that it will work out right. I have been thinking about going back to school and this seems to be a pretty clear cut indicator that school would not be a bad idea for moi.

My goal is to not freak out. This is the kind of situation that would generally lead to a meltdown and relocation. But I am not that person anymore. I will find a job and I will go to school. I will still send out my first two chapters as planned.

And I will enjoy my new niece!

Chapter the First

I am a blog-tard apparently. I was going to post my first chapter but I couldn't figure out how to do it. Lame, I know. I posted it on FB instead.

I'm Just Blog Machine...

I didn't write about this yesterday because I was so happy to not be in pain that I didn't want to relive it. I still don't. But I would feel ungrateful if I didn't mention the nice staff I encountered at the hospital.

I have gone to the ER twice since I have been here in this town I now live in. The first time was for dehydration because I had been throwing up for a week (bonus - I lost 10lbs). Steph came with me and we had to wait for three hours in the waiting area. Another guy from my ward was there with a busted face (from a ward activity, no less) and he got called back at the same time as I did. We were there for another three hours and I got to explain my symptoms to two nurses, and two doctors. One of those doctors needed me to explain it to him twice. Which is fine. I understand that ER's are full of patients and I was not the worst off by any stretch. What really made it awful was how RUDE they all were. I am sorry I am annoying you with my illness. Maybe you should have gone into Library Sciences, you wouldn't have to deal with as many sick people that way. I vowed to never return.

Alas, my vows are somewhat worthless in the face of pain.

All this past weekend I felt funky and tired. I thought I might have the flu-ish-ness that has been lingering in our home. So I slept. I still felt junky on Sunday and I had a migraine blossoming so I stayed home and rested. I didn't really sleep... I don't generally sleep very easily... but I stayed in bed and read and tried to pay attention to my pain and triggers to keep myself from going to the dark side. I felt I had accomplished this and fell asleep that night without a care.

Until I woke up at 4am.

Searing pain would be a pleasure cruise next to being woken up by a migraine. If you get them then you know how they rip you out of sleep. You are in agony and more than a little confused. For those of you who don't get them let me put it into perspective. I often stare at walls when I am in the middle of a migraine, not because the blank space is soothing (nothing is soothing) but because I am trying to determine if I can gain enough velocity to propel myself head first into said wall in order to knock myself out. And it's not the fear of death or a concussion that stops me. It's the fear that I won't hit that smooth surface hard enough and I will only add to the horror that is now the space above my neck.

Basically, I lost my will to boycott the ER.

This trip was a complete 180! We went earlier in the morning and no one else was there. We got a room automatically. The nurses I dealt with were chipper and kind. And talkative, which isn't a bad thing but it's not really something a migraine sufferer is looking for. Dr. Boyles was quick and concise and he got me my "headache cocktail" right away. It was so wonderful to not feel judged. I hate that I get sick so often and I hate going to the hospital. I only go when I really feel hopeless. Having kind nurses and doctors makes all the difference. He even made sure I had an excuse note for work so that I could sleep. I was hoping I would make it to work since I wasn't scheduled until noon but I ended up sleeping from 9am - 3:30pm.

I guess you can sleep a long while without a migraine wake-up call.

The Shortest Story Ever Told...

Tonight, at dinner, Sadie was trying to communicate with me in her 20-month old babble vernacular that she wanted something from me. So I, having been raised on the faux-wisdom of Oprah and Dr. Phil said to her:

"Sadie, I don't understand your mumbling. Use your words."

To which she babbled. So I repeated myself:

"Sadie, seriously. Use your words."

So Justin tells her:

"Ooh, you better watch out, Sadie. Aunt Jen knows how to use literary devices. Like language."

To which I said:

'Language is a literary device?"

It made me laugh forever.

P.S. I never figured out what Sadie wanted so I distracted her with tracing her hand on my notebook.

6 Month Report

It has been six months since I moved away from the desert. I was listening to a Fiona Apple song today (Better Version of Me) that I used to listen to and feel excited about because it helped me to envision the life I wanted. Listening to it today brought about a lot of the same feelings and I felt both proud and disappointed because I have made some things a reality and others still feel far away. I suppose that is just the way life will always be. I can't imagine a life with no hope and in order to have hope you must have something to hope for, right?

I love my job. It can be dull but I do love it. I am good at it. I recently got a raise (out of the blue) and my boss told me that getting me to full-time was his priority. Today I was given a really big project. It is a huge responsibility and I am nervous about it but also thrilled to have been trusted with it. It is an amazing feeling to know that you are an appreciated member of a team you believe in. This is a part of life that I hadn't ever dared hope for. I thought I'd get a job to pay my bills and be able to write on the side. I never thought I would enjoy my job or that I'd get paid to write all day long.

I love my ward. I have made some fantastic friends that I expect to be in my life from this point on. My ward is very quirky and eclectic but so am I. We have a wide range of ages and personalities and it is just the most awesome place to go and feel the Spirit. I have no doubt that I am meant to be a part of this ward and that I meant to know all the people that I know at this time.

I love my Drapers. They have been so generous in letting me stay with them and eat with them and drive their cars when I need to. I know it is not easy and I know that it can't go on forever but I am so grateful that they love the Lord and me enough to have been so open and supportive with me from the beginning of all of this.

I love my Mom and Dad. They are always available to listen to my nervous breakdowns or send me some money when I am sick for two weeks and have a pathetic check because of it. No one deserved to be loved as much as I am. I know I don't deserve it but I am more than willing to take it.

Things are going well. My goals for the next 6 months are to get my own car and finish the first draft of Betwixt. I may also be moving out but we shall see.

Peter Pan Would Be Disappointed...

I have done a very grown up thing. I have thoroughly researched laptops based on my specific needs and what each one could offer. And price. Because I am not rich. My main requirements are that it not be a dinosaur (not that I don't love my fossilized laptop), that I can write on it and it can hold all of my writing, and that I can watch movies on it (and hulu television, yes, it's so much better than regular tv) and listen to music. Yes, I know, that is what every laptop can do nowadays. I know. But it is all I really need mine to do. I am not a "gamer" and I don't feel the need to download everything I find online. I just need to be able to write and use this as my entertainment center. So I have chosen...

The Dell Inspiron 1545 in Jade Green. Obviously. It is the best quality and the best price for what I need. I have NEVER researched something so extensively - I generally get too bored after the first site and pick whatever seems sufficient. I am excited to get it (in a month once I finally have good paychecks again - stupid illness) and transfer Betwixt to a computer that will not try to eat it.

Also, I really, REALLY do not want to hear if you think I am making a horrible mistake. I understand how some might consider a choice of an electronic device as the equivalent to who you vote for (Barack Obama and, no, I don't feel bad about it) but you aren't going to change my mind, you are just going to annoy me. Also, I don't care how much you now hate me because I support Barack Obama. Toodles (ha, get it? Oh, the cleverness of me. I know Nikki will appreciate it!).

Scribes: TOP IT OFF!

I have discovered a truth about myself that is probably very obvious to everyone else; I love paranormal stories. Ghost stories, vampire stories, weird monster stories. I have read Stephen King since I was 8 or 9. Yes, my parents were paying attention. I guess another element I enjoy is horror or mystery. Not the slasher-like gore that is popular now but a Hitchcock-esque plot structure and some off-kilter situation, be it mental derangement or just something wholly and fabulously fictitious. That is the glory of writing. That is the deep and fulfilling well that is imagination!

I have also figured out why I am so picky about my paranormal/otherworldly choices. You writers need to TOP IT OFF! Yes, certain abnormal events or characters will naturally lead to others... to some degree. Hey, Tolkien created an entire world of weird majesty. But you aren't Tolkien. And Tolkien had a point and a reason for each race and character. Do you? Or do you just feel like adding faeries since there's a talking emu? Stop it! Your story becomes a circus instead of a real world we can inhabit. (Unless, of course, you are writing about a circus, in which case, proceed).

I just finished reading Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger who also wrote The Time Traveler's Wife (which I also LOVE). I love Niffenegger. She takes a very obscure and otherworldly occurrence, something magical and impossible, and then she writes a completely genuine tale in which it is a vital element but not the piece d resistance. It is so beautiful to me that she can make characters, real people, come alive and breath and exist even next to this seemingly ridiculous element. She is the kind of author I want to be. She is concise, she is clever AND she is magical.

Writing Group/Club/Awesomeness... what have you...

I LOVE WRITING GROUP!

I love that it is with two other people that I completely trust to be honest when giving me feedback because I know their level of taste when it comes to literature and perception is an important element to consider when forming a group such as this! I love that they listened and then openly shared what they liked and disliked and articulated what they thought could improve. I love that we did not agree on every point! I love that when I said, "Do you see the balance between such and such possibility?" or "I was trying to describe her, I kind of forgot that part..." they didn't look at me like I was nuts. Instead they said, "Yeah..." and then continued to expand on their opinions and thoughts. I love that their readings were amazing and that I now have even more faith and respect in their opinions because I know that they are true writers as well. It was so helpful. I came home and within thirty minutes I had re-crafted the parts that I agreed with them were lacking and now I have an air-tight 8 pages that I am completely and utterly in love with. AWESOME.

There is no better feeling than knowing you are in exactly the right place, doing exactly what you are meant to be doing. I am blessed to have friends who continue to prove that to me on an almost daily basis. Yea!

Righting Fragments

This is a blog about writing. You have been warned.

As a writer, and I do consider myself a writer - it's in my job title, I have had one ever present concern in regard to my particular style; should I right my fragments? I write a lot of fragments. Microsoft Word informs me of this ALL DAY at work and also when I am busy plucking away at my sad, old laptop at home. I revise at work. I ignore that stupid paperclip at home. I write like I talk. This may mean I am honest. This may mean I am lazy. Whatever it means is unimportant since that is how it is. I talk in fragments. Not always. But often. Most days I feel justified and call it "style." Other days I feel inadequate and get the irrational fear that my work will never be taken seriously because of the fragments! Oh, no! It's called overanalyzing. But I like the subtitle "Righting Fragments" for my writing specific posts. It says loud and clear all that I feel writing is, both in poetry and practice.

I am not an English Lit major. Not because I don't love literature but because I am not the kind of person who can tear apart something I love and give it technical names; reducing it to basic functions. That just saps all the joy out of reading and writing for me. I am in no way implying that any of the many lit/writing majors I know (Jenny, Ash, Nikki, Aly-bug) are less in love with reading and writing because of their academic proclivities. I am merely stating my own personal shortcomings.I need the dreaminess of reading and writing, the intangible element of something being stirred and awakened in your soul that you can't ever quite comprehend but relish still the same. I guess I need to believe in magic, even though I logically see that magic is just illusion.

There are basically two theory's in regard to just about anything in life and they are as follows; talent is something you have to be born with or talent is something you can achieve through devotion and study. Everyone has their own idea. I am sure there are a million ways to splinter those two questions and come up with a billion responses all applying to some person or another that has found success in their chosen field. I am too old to rely on black and white any longer. But I will let you in on a little secret of mine. I am completely and wholeheartedly (and unabashedly) in the "talent is something you have to born with" camp. No matter how much I practiced I would have never been a basketball player or a top model. I have never possessed the patience to learn an instrument or to take up woodwork. When I look at an algebra book it makes me want to write a letter to Bethy or to ditch class and go to the movies. I will grant that there are variables that contributed to my dislike of such things and there are things that could have caused me to be far more successful at them. Still, I would never have excelled and that works out well because I just don't care about those things. I admire those who can accomplish them. I feel my own limited sense of ability when I list all the ways in which I am below average. And then... I move on with my life because my life is reading and writing and reading and writing and reading and writing. Constantly and always; with dizzying joy and exhilaration.

I am not saying that you can't achieve SUCCESS without being naturally talented. Look at Danielle Steel and Nicholas Sparks. Absolute drivel on both parts. Sorry, I do not mean to offend and I do understand that there is an easy appeal to these authors books, but I don't think anyone can honestly say that they think either is the height of literary achievement and enlightenment. At least no one I associate with. There are plenty of writers who are good because of study and hard work and whose writing I enjoy. I would say a majority of writers fall into this category. But to reach the pinnacle of writing requires more than a large vocabulary and an encyclopedic memory for grammar. There has to be that something inside of you that pulls you forward. That element that you cannot control or understand but propels you regardless.

Yes, most days I believe that I am in the "born with it" echelon. I have days of doubt. I fully accept that everyone thinks they are in the "born with it" category or at least clings to the hope. I have reasons to believe this about myself and they sustain me and make it possible for me to write this without feeling as if I am boasting of something I can't back up. I am not good at many things. I wanted to be a singer, a real singer - not a pop bimbo ala Britney Spears, and I practiced and practiced for years and years. I trained my voice to do some amazing vocal backflips. I was very good. And I knew that it wasn't enough. I knew that pursuing it would only strip me of the joy I found in singing because I wasn't in the category that made that talent fluid for me. I decided it wasn't worth it. Some people decide it is. I actually despised my writing ability for a long time because it wasn't singing. But, do you know what? I wrote hundreds of songs in that timeframe. And once I accepted that I wasn't going to make it as a singer I realized that the connective fabric between that dream and the one that had always laid dormant was the writing. I had never actually stopped.

I don't mean to say I will be the next Tolstoy. I will never be that smart. I believe that the greats like Tolstoy, Nabokov, Dickens (whom I don't care for but I do recognize his genius), Philip Roth and Eggers (okay, the last two are new-ish greats but trust me) are naturally brimming with talent and also have found a way to tap into that talent with an eye attuned toward the study of what makes a story amazing. Like I said, I am too dreamy-mist-faraway for that level of exactness and my work will never reach the same heights as theirs because, lets face it, mist floats and swirls above the ground and can be entrancing and beautiful but it doesn't really encompass the entire sky. And I am okay with that.

I think honesty is another essential element in writing and happiness. Once I stopped lamenting my inability to recreate the complexities of Shakespeare and the terse truth of Hemingway I realized that there is always room in the writing world for a an old-fashioned great story. A good yarn, if you will. You have probably heard the saying, "write what you know." This is something that I took quite literally for a long time and it stumped me and brewed a writer's block that caused me to consider taking up being a radiology technician as a profession. It would be more steady work and more reliable than counting on my lazy and self-pitying brain. Then it dawned on me, the way it probably dawned on everyone else the first time they heard it, somethings are known with your heart. Yes, that sounds trite but oh, well. It is true.

I know despair and anguish. I know guilt and torment. I know rage and blind hatred. I know what the need for vengeance tastes like on the tip of my tongue, how it burns behind your eyes and pools in the blackest parts of your brain. I know what it is to wish for nothingness to release you from the overwhelming something-ness of your life. I also know love. I know fierce and unrelenting loyalty. I know what it is roar with the strength of a lioness when someone you share a piece of your soul with is in danger. I know what it is to choose someone over yourself, to allow your own worth to be diminished to not lessen theirs. I know what it is to reach across the chasm of invisible space and air to hope for a stranger and feel that connective tug the universe has on us all.

These are the things that matter to me. These are the things I know and attempt to give shape through characters and relationships and plots that might seem a bit wacky but are really just symbolic (in a very undefined way, mind you) of the experience of life in all it's exquisite beauty and all it's damning pain.

This, unfortunately, only scratches the surface of all the thoughts that are reeling in my head. But my back is hurting and I must retreat, for now. Hey, the blog is called Manipulated Ink, what do you expect me to pontificate on?

Next "Righting Fragments" Topic: How-To-Books and How to Read Them.

The Talented Miss Jen Nye

My ward is having a talent show in two weeks (I think) and I signed up for it out of duty. It's not that I am completely devoid of talent... it's just that my talents aren't the kind you can really display. I am really good at organizing and alphabetizing things. Kids like me a lot. I am a sufficient listener. I can memorize names and birthdays to a creepy degree of exactness. My patriarchal blessing says that the Lord blessed me with the talent of a pleasing personality. But none of these things would be interesting to watch.

And I can write.

I have decided to read a short piece that I wrote in 2006 or 2007. I realize that reading is potentially uninteresting as well but it is the only thing I feel confident enough in to endure the possible maelstrom of disappointment. So I am going to read my two pages entitled, "The End of Things." Hopefully I don't get any tomatoes in my face! If I could dance or sing or juggle I might do those things. But writing and my "pleasing personality" are the only talents I have always had. At least in my mind. Hopefully in your mind too!

Quotation Marks

I love a good quote. At Book Club last Wednesday I was rambling on and on about the book we read (my favorite story, The History of Love by Nicole Krauss... get over it, it's my blog, I can mention it as many times as want!) and I found myself telling everyone that I know I love a book when I find passages that strike me as true. I think that is the thing that makes a writer great. The ability to synthesize truth for the reader.

Anyway, I went a little nutso on goodreads and I started posting a bajillion quotes that I love and I thought... wait, this would be a good topic for a blog post. And thus we have arrived at the crux of my introduction. (Oh, Nikki, I am totally not stealing your blog idea... I am just talking about quotes in general, not the ones that precede a novel to give you an idea of what you are in for. I am not plagiarizing!)

I have a little book that my mom got me a few years ago and it is a book that is meant to keep the titles of books on my wish list. There is also a section for quotes, which I filled up rather quickly. I won't bore you with a ton of them but I am going to list a few of my favorites. If you have some I'd love to hear (er... read) them!

"Words mean more than we mean to express when we use them: so a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the writer meant." - Lewis Carroll

"GIRL: He was deciding whether to cut her throat or love her forever.
BOY: Right. Yes. The usual choices." - Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

"Even now, all possible feelings do not exist. There are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written, or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom, or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges, and absorbs the impact." - Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

See, only three. I could write quotes all night but I will keep it simple. Do you want to see my favorite opening sentence I have encountered up to this point in my life?

"I am nothing but a corpse now, a body at the bottom of a well." - Orhan Pamuk, My Name is Red

I am so happy when authors just start right in the middle of a story. I hate the 100 page build up method. I prefer to start in the center and learn backwards and forwards all at once. It's how I write. Maybe it's how I think. It has certainly been an element in the way I've lived.

Reading is better than just about anything, except writing. And rolling down hills. And, maybe someday, a cute boy with curly hair and glasses, one who is more than just an idea. Maybe.

Yes, My Pants Are On Fire, Why Do You Ask?

So instead of doing a triathlon I am going to NOT do a triathlon!

Okay, I did not lie or wuss out but my spot was usurped by an actual family member and, as awesome as I am, I don't trump family... apparently.

Anyway, I am still going to swim a mile in July. It's a good goal and I want to get into shape anyway. It will be nice to not have to swim with a bunch of other people. I have never been one for the pressure of races. I am more of the slow and steady nature. Tortoise vs. the Hare and what not.

Spending all my time writing* reviews for website content sure jacks me of the desire to blog. That is all I have for now. I have been busy every night this week and will continue to be... I miss having no life. I was so much better rested then.

*revision. No not seeing something twice or again.

I Do Not Have TB.

It has come to my attention...
That some of you may have gleaned...
In an earlier post...
That unintentionally...
In the sincerest of jests...
I may have implied...
With the most jovial of tones...
That I might have been suffering from...
Tuberculosis.

I do not have tuberculosis, nor have I ever. TB is really rare in the United States and completely curable if caught in time. I watch a lot of House so I am kind of a medical authority.

You might not know this about me but I am a bit sarcastic and quippy. I generally say I have tuberculosis/TB/the consumption whenever I have a severe cough. I will probably accuse you of having this disease if you are coughing a lot.

Anyway, I am TB-free!

TRY-athlon

Last night at FHE my dear sweet new best pal, Melinda, asked me if I wanted to swim. She's special, what can I say. Eventually, "Do you want to swim?" evolved into, "Do you want to swim in a triathlon with me?" I will give you a moment to collect yourself from your hysterical laughter.

There. Now I think you can make it through the rest of this with only a soft tremor of giggles. That's how I have existed since this question was posed to me last night. After my laughter subsided, slightly, Melinda told me that this triathlon occurs towards the end of July. Hmmm... that is a decent amount of time away. She also assured me that she was not concerned with winning, which is apparent in her choice of partner, at least in my case but was still important information.

So, guess what? I'M GONNA DO IT! I love swimming, I'm from the desert, after all. I have been trying to motivate myself to get more active. Having tuberculosis has gotten in the way of my motivation but, since it's apparently with me FOREVER, I am just going to ignore it from now on. I am still going to take up rock climbing like I have wanted to but now it will become a part of my strength training!

I know that I am the last person on earth whom you might imagine voluntarily competing in a triathlon or a marathon or a walk to the mail box. But if the past months have taught me anything it is that change is possible and not nearly as terrifying as it appears to be in the beginning.

So, Melly, thanks for giving me a goal! Now you have to exercise with me! And stop feeding me ridiculously delicious sweets. And RayRay, thanks for being all healthy and marathon-tastic! I will think of you every day and use your pretty face as motivation!

I'm nuts.

(Disclaimer: I call people named Melinda or Rachel or Haylee or Alycen or Maddison's boyfriend Brad things like Melly or RayRay or HayHay or Aly-bug or B-Rad specifically because they are such ditzy and ridiculous nicknames. It's ironic! Okay. So instead of making fun of me you should bask in my glorious irony! Thanks.)

Bring Out Your Dead or I DO NOT Think I'll Go For a Walk Now

Okay, I only have a virus but it is very unpleasant. If you have had the pleasure of listening to me attempt to speak over the past two days you know what I am talking about. ANNOYING! Oh, well, I have been resting for 3 days and I have 2 more to go but if I am not better by Monday, than OH WELL, I'll just infect everyone at work!

So, here is a funny-ish story. I went to a meeting at work today (for 30 minutes, tops) and I picked up my check. Yes, I am the only person in the world who still has a paper check. Well, I won't next payday, but still... SO, I had planned on setting up an account at BANK OPTION 1(this helps me believe I am being internet safe) but I needed to go home first to make sure the van wasn't needed. It wasn't. So I head out and even though I see this bank on my way to and from work EVERY DAY I pass it. By a lot. I was jamming to The Killers, which is obviously far more important.

Once I realize that I have passed it I call myself an idiot and laugh a little. I end up going into some neighborhood and for reasons that weren't all that clear to me at the time I drove further into the neighborhood and came out on another main road. Next to a totally different BANK OPTION than I had ever considered. I thought, "That is too weird." But I was set on BANK OPTION 1 so I trekked back the slightly weird way I ended up on.

I get to BANK OPTION 1. I walk in and feel like an idiot because I feel hot and freezing, I can barely talk and I am doing everything not to look like I am disgustingly ill and also trying to not touch anything because I know I am disgustingly ill. When I get seen by someone, he is very nice and kind but can't help me because I don't have two forms of ID. Apparently being licensed and fingerprinted by a certain state I used to live in doesn't count and all I have is a drivers license because I cut up all my cards and my job doesn't require picture ID because there are six of us.

Great. I say thanks. He is genuinely sorry he couldn't help and I am not upset at him or anything. I am annoyed at myself. HELLO! So I apologized to Heavenly Father for not just asking Him at the time (which would have saved me thirty minutes) and I am sure He forgave me. He was probably somewhat amused at my obliviousness. And I went straight to BANK OPTION 2, walked in and asked before anything else could go down, "How many forms of ID do I need to open a checking account?"

One.

Isn't it comforting (and humbling) to know He's always there and always on your side? Even if He's just trying to save you some time because He knows you are sick.

I love being loved by my Heavenly Father.