JUST DID IT . . .

I am proud of me . . . I did it . . .


A few weeks ago . . . No, wait. Like ten days ago, I got an email notification of a contest for writers, with the deadline of August 31. I glanced through it, and thought, 'oh I wish I had more time . . . this would have been fun to try', and didn't delete it, but had no intention of trying to write something to submit in less than two weeks.


I knew the contest was legitimate, because it is one that one of my professors told me about and encouraged me to enter a few years ago. Every three years it is open to writers and poets in California. I entered it (both categories) three years ago, which is undoubtedly where they got my email address, but without more time to prepare, there is no way I could prepare something in time.


I promptly forgot about it until a few nights later I was looking through my hotmail account and deleting old messages because I rarely do, and noticed that I had at some point in time made a folder in my inbox called 'writing'. Not remembering it, and curious I clicked on it, and found only ONE item inside . . . an email about that same contest, sent back in late May of this year.


I was stunned. I had NO recollection of ever hearing ANYTHING about it before the email reminder in mid August, and yet not only had I received one, I had noticed it enough to make a folder JUST for it . . . and saved it, even though I couldn't remember doing any of that.


Late May was at the worst of Spring semester, with me CERTAIN I was failing my Algebra class and frantically busy writing a research paper and memorizing formulas and science facts for my finals which were rapidly approaching. Shortly after that, some really sad things took place that shoved everything else to the back corners of my mind, and I COMPLETELY forgot.


Apparently, though, I got the notification with MONTHS to prepare and I must have intended to try to write something, because I saved the email (in a special folder!) . . . and promptly forgot about it . . .


Coming across that original notification did something to me . . . It is hard to describe, but it felt like this HUGE, pyschic 'nudge' . . . inspiration? a reminder of what I love to do in the midst of the regular chaos of life? the allure of an old, cherished dream?


I looked at how much time I had and thought . . . for whatever reason, it feels important on a level I don't even understand to enter this contest . . . I don't have time to write anything new (short stories are difficult to write -- let alone edit and revise and polish in so short a time) but perhaps I can look through old things I have already written and find something I can tweak or polish to submit.


That worked for a couple of days, but in looking through and rereading things I had written and saved . . . nothing jumped out and grabbed me. I mean I liked the things I had written, but it felt like 'well those were me THEN . . . not me NOW' . . . so I decided that if nothing else, I would submit something old, just for the practice and to act on what felt like a prompting . . . but that would be my default strategy. I would TRY to write something new, even though time was SO short . . .


For at least a WEEK . . . I struggled and started story after story . . . jotted down ideas . . . phrases . . . plot summaries . . . tried SO hard to just write SOMETHING. ANYTHING. And absolutely nothing would come . . . Talk about the dry heaves of creativity. I felt VERY uncreative . . . and it is HARD to write . . . or draw . . . or sew . . . or do anything creative when you just don't FEEL it . . . Maybe others can do it, but I cannot, which is one of the reasons that advertising art has NEVER appealed to me as a career field.


Creativity on demand simply doesn't work for me . . .


But with some encouragement (and concrete suggestions for weeding out distractions) and definitely under the gun with the contest deadline LOOMING . . . I just sat down late one night and WROTE . . . I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, or at least what I hoped to accomplish (I wanted to write about death in a way that wasn't sentimental . . . maudlin . . . creepy . . . horrific . . . or goth . . . more, simply as a rite of passage). I know that sounds like a weird goal, but I have had a few friends dealing with life or death issues in this past year, and I wanted to try to do that . . .


I did it . . .


I wrote something . . . and not only did I write it, I actually like what I wrote . . .


Oh, I have no expectations about winning the contest . . . but I am more pleased than I can express that EVEN when I had almost NO time . . . EVEN when I was feeling pressured and desperate . . . EVEN when I was not feeling even the TEENSIEST bit creative . . . I could write something that holds together as a short story AND something that I actually, genuinely like . . .


As soon as I figure out a title for it, I will print out four copies . . . fill out the paperwork . . . and mail it in . . . not to WIN the contest . . . but VERY pleased with myself for even trying . . .


YAY . . . go ME!!! =o)

NO LONGER THE CHAMP . . . SIGH . . .

One talent I have always had . . . ALWAYS . . . is that babies LOVE me . . .


Honest . . . I can make ANY baby smile and giggle and coo . . . I am WONDERFUL at it . . .


Except last night . . .


SIGH . . .


I now have to surrender my title as champ of that particular skill set . . .


We went to Disneyland because grampa was going into withdrawals (hahahahahah little inside joke there) . . . Actually we went to Disneyland because this is supposedly the last week of Summer Nightastic or something. Monday through Thursday were unblocked on our passes, and the night we were going to go kept getting bumped around . . . usually at the last minute . . . because things kept cropping up unexpectedly . . . but FINALLY we decided that YESTERDAY (last night, actually) was the day . . . so we packed up and just went (hey . . . who says old people can't be spontaneous) . . .


As expected, Disneyland was PACKED . . . UGH . . . I HATE Disneyland when it is wall-to-wall people like that . . . Still, grampa really really wanted to see the new Fantasmic thingie, so . . . there we were, with roughly half of the planet's population milling around with us. It is no small task to keep track of little ones in a crowd like that, especially when the kids are WAY too big for a stroller (their estimation, not mine . . . strollers make great 'people movers' to work your way through a crowd) . . . Then we staked out our claim for a not totally sucky spot from which to watch The Summer Nightastic show two hours early (and we BARELY were able to still find a spot) . . . and I stayed with the kids to keep our place safe while grampa and mom went off to secure sustenance for hungry/thirsty place holders.


Near as I can figure they were gone for at LEAST eight hours . . . leaving me stranded (if one can be stranded when you are standing shoulder-to-shoulder with all the other sardines) with two HIGHLY energetic, HIGHLY excited children . . . I had ample opportunity to practice not making any eye contact with the people on either side of us so I could pretend I had no idea they were glaring and snarling at us . . . Apparently they had NOT staked out those places so that kids could trip and fall on top of them roughly a thousand times or be right there when a shoving match ensued . . . WEIRD . . . go figure . . .


So FINALLY the production began . . . only to be cancelled over the loudspeakers five minutes or so into it . . . LOL . . . um . . . yeah . . . disappointing. I have never heard anything "BOO"'d quite so loudly and thoroughly at Disneyland before . . . Oh well . . . it is STILL the Magic Kingdom, right? And the kids (and grampa) LOVED that first five minutes AND were absolutely enthralled with the fireworks show later.


However, at one point we split up, with mama going on the rocket ships with both kids, and grampa coaxing me on to a ride I have never been on before, though I am not sure why. The ride was Astro Blasters (or something close to that) and I really have no idea why I have never been before . . . it is not scary . . . nor is it really really jerky like the Indiana Jones ride that always leaves me with weird bruises and whiplash.


So he and I got in line behind a young mother and her baby (and roughly a thousand other people). Like I said, babies AlWAYS love me and respond to me . . . I can always get them to giggle and smile. So about five minutes into our wait, the mom shifted the baby (who was about nine months old) so that he was against her chest, facing backwards (at us) over her shoulder.


He was a seriously cute little guy, with huge eyes and a seriously solemn facial expression that I have only seen duplicated in photos of Winston Churchill . . . so I set about to work my magic . . .


First, I smiled at him . . . NO response . . .


So . . . I made funny faces at him . . . NOTHING . . .


Then I wiggled my fingers at him . . . ZIP . . .


Pretended my fingers were a spider, coming to get him . . . NO response at ALL . . .


I made EVERY funny face I have EVER made at a baby . . . and even made up a few new ones . . . with absolutely NO impact on little stone face . . . NOTHING . . .


I wiggled my tongue at him . . . NADA . . .


I clicked my tongue at him . . . made animal noises . . . with absolutely NO response . . . He just kept STARING at me with these huge eyes, watching my every move intently . . .


Finally, his mom turned around and we began talking, and I confessed that I had been trying for the past hour (yeah . . . the lines were THAT long) to make the little guy crack a smile with NO luck at ALL, and she laughed and said, 'Isn't he the most SERIOUS baby you have ever seen?' Then she went on to say that he COULD smile, but that it was really, really hard to get him to do it . . . and that the walls of their home were covered with pictures of the little guy staring solemnly at the photographer . . . NO photographer had EVER (yet) gotten him to smile . . .


SIGH . . .


Even so, I KEPT trying . . . till I finally got a change of expression from him . . . Not a SMILE, more a wrinkling of his brow like he was seriously disturbed and SOOOOO close to hunting down park security to alert them to this bizarre woman running loose in the park . . .


So I finally admitted defeat and gave up . . .


I am SO crushed . . .


I absolutely FAILED . . . =o/


There go all my cherished dreams of being a baby photographer, if ONLY I could work past my magic touch of ONLY being able to take blurry photographs . . . SIGH . . .


I relinquish my title . . . *I* am not longer the champ . . .

CH-CH-CH-CHANGES . . .

HMMMMM . . . Lots of changes in progress . . . some exciting . . . some sad . . . but as someone far wiser than me once said, 'if there is one constant in life it is that change is inevitable' . . . and that is very true . . .



Learning to roll with the punches, and adapt to exciting, longed for changes (like marriage . . . a new baby . . . an exciting job opportunity) . . . AND learning to accommodate hurtful, difficult changes and setbacks is what life is all about . . . Nobody pencils in heartaches and disappointments . . .


Nobody gazing up at the stars as an adolescent looks up into the night sky and thinks "I want to fail at what is most important in life" . . . but . . . sometimes things happen.


When I look back over my life, I remember SO many dreams I have had over the years . . . I wanted to be in love . . . I wanted to be married . . . I wanted to have a family . . . I wanted to be happy . . . I wanted to be healthy . . . I wanted to have the opportunity to develop my talents and interests . . . I wanted to feel good about the direction my life was headed . . .


Those dreams, I have pretty much realized (or they are at least currently being worked on) . . . I AM in love . . . I AM married . . . I have an AWESOME family . . . I have SO much happiness . . . I have better health than I probably deserve . . . and I have had a myriad of opportunities to develop a variety of interests and talents . . . and, for the most part, I DO feel good about the direction my life is headed . . .


Other dreams, have sort of fallen by the wayside over the years . . . I may never live in a secluded mountain cabin where I paint and work on my great American novel all day . . . Oh, it could still happen . . . and the idea is still appealing to me . . . but my husband's job is HERE, a mountain commute wouldn't factor in, easily, and it would mean that we couldn't be as much support to family and friends as we currently can be . . . and THAT has become more important to me, over the years than that scenic mountain cabin . . .


I also may never get my cruise to Alaska to see the Northern Lights . . . Again, this could still easily happen . . . and it is still VERY appealing to me . . . but there are so many other places for that money to go, especially NOW with times so scary and rough for so many . . . so much need around me . . . I am just not sure that I will ever want that cruise more than I want to be there for loved ones . . .


I have faced the fact that I will never go to Art School . . . I have talent, I know that I do. Not only have my art teachers always told me that, and encouraged me, but I just know, deep down in my heart that I have artistic talents . . . I can paint . . . I can draw . . . I can sculpt . . . but most likely those will remain simply satisfying hobbies, a creative outlet for me, and nothing more.


Art school is EXPENSIVE . . . and I am too old to invest what EASILY would come to over $100,000 + dollars on simply developing my talents . . . It might have made sense at twenty . . . maybe even thirty . . . but not now.


Actually, the idea doesn't even appeal to me any more . . . Even though I am well aware that I have talent, and several art teachers have told me that I have more ability than students who have gotten full ride scholarships to prestigious art schools . . . honestly . . . it just doesn't interest me now . . . and perhaps it never really did.


Advertising art is not at all appealing to me . . . I cannot be creative on demand, and trying to force that is particularly frustrating to me . . . I would much rather that a full ride scholarship (which is COMPLETELY hypothetical and which was never sought after, nor offered) go to someone younger and more driven . . . someone following their heart . . .


Other priorities, too, have changed . . .


I have to admit that over the years some dreams and goals, I cried about giving up . . . Some sacrifices were HARD . . . but I knew, deep down in my heart, that to ME absolutely NOTHING was more important than my family . . . and I made the sacrifices I felt necessary to be the kind of mom and wife I wanted with all my heart to be.


Oh, I still didn't do it (either one) perfectly . . . not even CLOSE . . . I have made SOOOOOOOO many mistakes . . . but I do know that I truly have tried . . .


For one thing, I took a long, hard look at my family of origin, and made some deliberate changes, trying to weed out unhealthy patterns and 'traditions' that I did not want pass along . . . that I did not wish to have continue . . . That process was HARD . . . surprisingly hard . . . uncomfortable at best, and absolutely excruciating at times . . . but it, too, was THAT important to me . . .


So here I am . . . in the midst of yet MORE changes in my life . . . Some of these unexpected changes I did not plan to be dealing with in this season of my life . . . but . . . life is just like that sometimes . . .


I know that if I just keep plugging along, trying to do my prayerful best, that I will be able to continue to build a life worth having, and still be able to be there as a support to those I love so dearly . . .


Because learning to deal with changes -- both the ones eagerly anticipated and longed for AND the ones you prayed with all your heart would never happen to you and those you love -- IS what life is all about . . . because 'Life IS what happens while you are making other plans' . . .


And it is STILL beautiful . . . STILL very much worth living and celebrating . . .

GONNA RUN AWAY AND JOIN THE CIRCUS . . .

Yesterday we took assorted visiting family members and 'ran away' to the circus . . . I have been to a circus once before . . . when I was a child with my family. For most of the rest, it was their very first in person circus.


Now, I have seen MANY movies/TV shows that featured a circus . . . read books that referred to them . . . but it was different, seeing it in person. I think that maybe I have become jaded because I have gotten so used to watching stunts on a screen that has been digitally mastered, or that was filmed against a blue screen or that relied heavily on camera angles to produce the 'magic' . . .


Watching acrobats -- in person -- some with safety wires, some without, do their stunts HIGH above the arena really made me realize how risky what they do IS . . . These groups did flips and stunts that were extremely dangerous . . . You could tell they were well rehearsed, and had put in long hours perfecting their craft. One pair did these stunts on these big . . . hamster wheels. I don't know what else to call them. They ran around inside AND outside, skipping rope, relying on their superb senses of timing and balance to keep them from falling, if not to their deaths, at least to serious injury.


Even watching the tiger tamer with his seven or eight BIG, powerful cats, cracking his whip and having them to tricks and perform seemed much scarier and riskier in person, where you can SEE the men dressed in black stationed every few feet around the outside of the enclosure with cattle prods and nooses, just there as insurance in case something goes horribly wrong.


We watched it all, enthralled and DELIGHTED . . . the elephants dancing . . . the horses and zebras performing . . . the stunts . . . the clowns . . . the acrobats . . . the tricks . . . the 'miraculous' disappearing and reappearing sleights of hand . . . It was a FUN afternoon to spend together . . .


And then we returned home and I changed and ran off to the baptism of a new friend in our ward. I have known her for only a few short months, and I do not know her well . . . but I know her enough to know a little about the journey her life has been to get to the point where she wishes to get baptized and be clean and whole before the Lord and begin her quest to return to her Heavenly Father . . .


After watching all those magical, breathtaking, awe inspiring stunts all afternoon, it was very humbling to be so strongly reminded, once again, that the miracles performed in individual human hearts . . . where old patterns, old weaknesses, old burdens are cleansed and lifted and someone is given a chance to start over, with a fresh slate, is truly the biggest miracle, the most amazing journey of all . . .