INTIMIDATING TIMES . . .

Today I had an interview . . . I know people who have been out of work for months without a single interview, so I am grateful that I got called to come in for one. The job is still only part time, but that works for me . . . It would be steady hours and the pay is considerably better than what I have been getting, and it is year round, so I would really like to get it. It isn't tutoring, which is what I love best . . . but it IS working with people, which is the part I love best about tutoring, so this job would work for me, I think . . .

I thought I was all calm and collected about this interview. In fact, a few days ago I was marveling at just how NOT stressed I was about it . . . LOL . . . I should have known it wouldn't last. Late Sunday night it suddenly hit me and I panicked. Then all that night I woke up every twenty minutes or so in a cold sweat in the midst of a dream about some disaster that struck on my way to or during the interview itself . . . I lost track of time and showed up an hour late (SOOOOOOOooooOOOO not me) . . . I got mugged in the elevator on the way to the interview (there is no elevator in the one story building where the interview would be held) . . . I got sick to my stomach and threw up all over the people interviewing me . . . I looked down mid-interview and discovered I had forgotten to put pants on . . . the interviewers all turned into giant snakes and were hissing and snarling at me (do snakes even snarl?!?) . . . etc, etc, etc.

Yeah . . . I have a VERY active imagination, so the dreams were awful. I would wake up, with my heart pounding, thinking "oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO . . . how could I have let this happen?!?!?" before (eventually) I would realize it was JUST a dream and think "WHEW" . . .

I knew it would be a panel interview, which are always more stressful and intimidating. Luckily for a few years I worked at the college in a capacity where I had to undergo a panel interview every single semester. I HATED it . . . but I thought it probably made THIS panel interview slightly less terrifying because I at least had some recent experience with them (and surviving).

So . . . today I went over to where my interview was, and waited in the car until about a half an hour before my scheduled time, then went in and told the receptionist I was there. At THAT point I realized I probably should have printed out a hard copy of my resume and brought it (uh oh . . . too late to do anything about it, but at least I DID remember to wear pants!)

Anyhow, I just prayed really hard -- not that I would get the job, because I am certainly not the only one trying to get a job, and I may not need it the most -- but simply that I would be able to be calm and confident, and do my best in the interview . . . and that those interviewing me would be able to get an accurate assessment of my abilities and talents and suitability for the job from my demeanor and answers. That is all. I just wanted it to be a good experience and to feel comfortable with how it went.

And I was. I really was. I mean, of course it is stressful to go to a job interview, especially one that involves multiple people asking you questions, and EVERYBODY taking notes on your answers. But none of the questions caught me off guard . . . and none flustered me. I felt like I was calm and collected, and that I was able to articulate my responses fairly well . . .

Of course, all the way home, I thought of MILLIONS of things I could have or should have said . . . things I should have elaborated on . . . things I forgot to say . . . etc . . . but I DID survive it, and it WAS a pretty good experience . . . so I am feeling really grateful . . .

Of course, I REALLY wish I could have been privy to the discussion they had after I left the room . . . but I should hear in a day or two or three if I made the list of those called back to a second interview. I guess then I will have a better idea of how things went , huh?

If nothing else comes of this (or even if I do get the second interview and still do not get the job) this whole process is good experience . . . The more interviews I do, the less intimidating they will be (theoretically) and the better I will get at thinking on my feet and responding to questions that are leveled at me . . . So I really AM grateful that I got called in for the interview . . .

LOL . . . soooooooooooooooooooooo . . . the big job hunt has officially begun . . .

So far, so good! ;o)

MY CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

I had an incredible experience with my MIL yesterday that I really want to write down before the memory of it fades.

A few days ago, I woke up in the midst of a dream about my mother-in-law . . . It wasn't a sad dream or a creepy dream or one where she was at the foot of my bed waving goodbye because she had died or whatever . . . and I woke up surprised because I hadn't been thinking about her particularly in the last few days or weeks, and there was no particular significance to the timing of the dream (no special days or occasions that might remind me of her or make me think of her subconsciously) . . . When my husband woke up I mentioned it to him and he said 'that is SO weird . . . I had a dream about her last night too' . . . His was very different from mine, but his, too, was neither ominous nor scary at all . . . I made a mental note to go visit her again soon, and then promptly forgot about it . . . like I said, this has been a crazy busy time . . .

Then yesterday as I was driving home from work, mentally reviewing all I had to accomplish between that moment and the book club meeting that night (I had to go to the bank, go to the grocery store, make a side dish to share, holiday goodies to share, and a few other things) and wondering how I could possibly get it all done in the little bit of time I had (2 hours) the thought popped into my head "I should stop and visit [my MIL]" . . . The timing seemed like the WORST ever, but because of the dreams, I drove to where she is, and went in to see her, not expecting much because the last two or three times I have been to see her, she has been asleep, and I ended up just sitting (or standing or squatting) by her, holding her hand in silence because it seemed mean to wake her. I imagine at this point in time her dreams are happier and more peaceful that the reality of her life, if she is at all aware of it . . .

To my surprise when I went in her room she absolutely LIT up. She was in bed, but awake, and she was DELIGHTED to see me. She has advanced Alzheimers and can no longer carry on a conversation . . . I mean, when she talks it is gibberish, though you can occasionally recognize a word or two, maybe even a partial phrase, but that is it.

This time was no different . . . I mean, almost nothing she said made any kind of recognizable sense, but she was CHATTY . . . She sat up in bed, and just chatted on and on and on . . . occasionally stopping to wait for a response or to chuckle. Like I said, it wasn't really a conversation . . . but I think to HER it was . . . so I told her about our holiday plans, and she told me about hers (lol . . . maybe) . . . We chatted like that for an hour and a half . . . and even though I didn't understand more than a word or two here and there that she said, it was HER I was talking to . . . the REAL her . . . It has been YEARS since I have felt like it was HER there when we visited . . . It was always just sort of a familiar-ish looking, vacant-eyed, slack-jawed stranger . . . but yesterday for that hour and a half, it was truly HER . . . I KNOW it was . . . The nursing staff walking by kept doing double takes, because it was so obvious that we were having a 'conversation' and she hasn't been capable of that for a very long time . . .

I stayed as long as I could . . . and I hated having to leave, but I finally had to . . . I gave her a hug and kissed her on her forehead and told her I would be back soon . . . and I walked out to my car and burst into tears . . . It was SUCH a sweet, incredible experience . . . I wished so much that my husband had been there to see his mom with me to share in it . . .

I think THAT will be my Christmas miracle this year . . . It was SUCH a sweet, beautiful hour and a half . . . I will cherish the memory of that forever . . .

Merry almost Christmas, everyone!

A CASE OF THE BLAHS . . .

You know, I KNEW I would miss the excitement and pressure of the NaNoWriMo challenge when it was over . . . Writing . . . my word count . . . the story developments were on my mind -- or at least simmering in the back of my mind -- ALL the time for that entire thirty days . . .

When it suddenly came to a screeching halt (a HAPPY screeching halt, because I really WAS jazzed that I 'won' and completed my word count in time!) I had a couple of days when I really felt sort of lost and even a little depressed, which isn't like me . . .

I guess I just sort of hit the wall . . .

After being SO focused on that writing (and I know that I don't have to STOP now, but it IS different, for whatever reason) . . . AND having SUCH a delightful friends-and-family-filled Thanksgiving weekend . . . AND being hit (not for the first time) with the sobering realization that I only have a little longer as a tutor, and not being sure about what the future holds . . . All those 'endings' sort of hit at once and I was just feeling SAD . . . and LOST . . .

I guess it all sort of hit at once when I was working with a student I have worked with for several years on Monday and she heard for the first time that I wouldn't be back in the winter OR the spring . . . and she got teary eyed . . . She even hugged me and thanked me for all the help I have been to her, but she still left with this sort of panicky look that made me SO sad. I know she will find other tutors to work with and receive the help she needs . . . but it really is difficult for me to even imagine what I will find to do next that I will enjoy even HALF as much as being a tutor.

Oh the pay was crap . . . but how many part time jobs can you say that you LOVED every minute of?!? And now it is over . . . or will be next Wednesday when I leave the campus . . . I have known since last April that this day was coming . . . and I have even known, deep down inside, that there would be no last minute reprieve, unlike last May . . . No more loopholes to keep non-student tutors working a little longer. This isn't a SURPRISE . . . but Monday the sadness and FINALITY of having something that has been such a BIG part of my life for six or seven years now come to an end has just really hit . . .

I know that I will be okay . . .

I know that I will find something else and learn to enjoy it, too . . .

Life will be DIFFERENT, but still good . . .

But . . . for now, I am just . . . SAD . . .



I also have realized in this past week, that I need to put my NaNoWriMo story aside for the month and just concentrate on enjoying Christmas and the holidayishness of the next few weeks . . . I have appreciated all the interest in reading my story, and I AM willing to share (and WILL) . . . I want to do some minimal editing and polishing (and READ my story through, from start to finish) but I have been dragging my feet all week, and I just realized that is because after focusing on it SO intensely for the entire month of November, I need to back off, and give myself a complete break from it . . . so that I can come back to it with a fresh perspective . . .

When I do that in January, I will be HAPPY to share . . . so if you would like to read it (and it wont hurt my feelings if you do not want to . . . it is LONG) let me know what email address you would like it sent to, and I will. You can leave your email address here in a comment, or email it to me at KeepInTouchForever@hotmail.com, it that is easier . . . and I WILL be happy to share . . . I think because I HAD to turn my internal editor off for this exercise (to write SO much in such a short time) I feel less territorial and protective about this story than I usually do . . . which is an interesting experience, all on its own . . .

So all I ask is if you DO read it, that you give me some feedback . . . NOT feedback like "this stinks" or "cool story" . . . but things like "the dialogue here just didn't feel natural" . . . or "this part moves a little slowly" . . . "the detail here was more distracting than helpful" . . . or "I like this description here" . . .

A generic overall comment isn't helpful at all . . . and if you write at all, you will understand why . . . specifics ARE helpful, even if they are criticisms . . .

Perhaps you will find the story to be poorly written or boring (a definite possibility) . . . Perhaps it simply wont be your genre (also a definite possibility) . . . Maybe you will have issues with points/situations/etc in the story . . . All of those are okay, and I understand already that they are definite possibilities . . . but IF you tell me you would like to read it, I really would like HONEST feedback . . .

But not til January . . . because for my sanity, I am taking December off and I am not even going to THINK about my story again til then . . .

For now, I am just going to concentrate on enjoying this holiday season . . . In fact tomorrow morning (it is now 3:30 AM and I am up because I am sick and cannot sleep without coughing) I think I will decorate the tree and then bake something yummy . . . I want my home to LOOK and SMELL Christmasy!!! =o)

VICTORY!!!!!!!

WHOOOO HOOOOOO!!!!!!

I DID IT!

I am SO thrilled . . . I actually wrote a 50,000+ word story . . . and it DOESN'T (I don't think) completely stink!!!!!



=o)

I even took three days off from it completely this week so I could concentrate on and enjoy my company and the holidays, and I STILL managed to finish a few days early.

Now, no matter what else I do in my life, I can always say that I won the NaNoWriMo challenge in 2010!!!!! (And yeah . . . everybody who completes the 50,000 word challenge 'wins' . . . but I don't mind sharing the honors . . . I am simply grateful to be among them . . .

WOW . . .

This felt SO challenging at the other end, when I had no idea what it would take to accomplish (or even if I COULD accomplish it) . . . but I hung in there, and did it . . .

I am really, REALLY pleased . . . =o)

ALMOST DONE . . .

It is now day 23 . . . and I am ALMOST done . . . My word count is (right this moment) 48,462 . . . so I have a little over fifteen hundred words left to write.

I am SOOOOooOOOOOO close . . .

I have to say that this has really been a good experience.

I started it a little overwhelmed and scared, worried that I could NEVER write fifty thousand words in only thirty days . . . and I have discovered along the way that I most certainly CAN . . . and it didn't even have to take over my life to do it. I still had time to watch TV in the evenings with my husband . . . serve in my callings (even prepare for and teach a RS lesson during the month) . . . play with my grandkids . . . keep my house cleaned . . . cook actual meals . . . I even took Sundays off, with no ill effects. Well almost no ill effects . . . I do have to admit that on Mondays it was a little harder to get back 'into' my story after a full day away, not even THINKING about my story line or characters.

Despite that little difficulty, however, I still think taking a break each week was a good idea. I liked the mental break, and I think it has kept me from being totally overwhelmed or consumed by this project . . . because frankly, I can get way obsessive . . . ;o)

And, I have to say that I like my story . . . in all its rough edges-currently-unedited/unpolished glory . . .Oh, its not an 'important' story . . . It really isn't. It isn't epic on any level . . . and I know that, but I wont apologize for it.

It is just the quiet little story about a young girl growing up . . . learning to deal with changing family dynamics . . . navigating the shifting loyalties of friendships . . . being willing to try new, stretchy experiences . . . making new friends . . . dealing with new feelings and new experiences . . .

She doesn't have all the answers . . . she doesn't speak in a steady stream of witty, hip one-liners . . . the adults are not stupid, two-dimensional cartoons that are the perceived cause of all her problems in life . . .

I like my characters . . . I like how this is flowing together like a story, and that the characters are almost taking on a life of their own, saying and doing things that I hadn't envisioned, and that almost seem outside my control, though, of course, it IS my fingers on the computer keys . . .

I am so glad I gave this a try, even though it was scary for me.

This has been GOOD for me . . .



And I am already well aware that I will MISS it . . . even though, there is, of course, nothing to prevent me from continuing to write, continuing to work on this story, continuing to polish it and work out the inconsistencies and smooth the rough edges . . .

Still, working on this challenge this month has seemed almost magical . . . and I am loathe to have that end . . . It has added a little sparkle to my life that I have absolutely LOVED . . .

I think that it has turned me into . . . yeah . . . one of those . . .





A writer . . .


WOW . . .

MAKING PROGRESS . . .

Week three is going a little easier than last week. I am now sixteen days in to the NaNoWriMo challenge, and have 34,103 words. Another thousand words and I will be ten thousand words above the halfway point, so I am pretty much on target. This has been an interesting experience, unlike any other writing I have ever attempted.

Because the emphasis is on QUANTITY of words, over QUALITY of writing, it is very freeing. I have given my internal editor the month off, and refuse to even worry about how good my story is or how important it might be. I am just completely immersing myself in the joy of simply WRITING. After November 30, when the dust has settled, I can sit back and begin to review the story and make a judgment as to its value at that point. Honestly, though, I probably wont even do that til after all the holidays. It will be good to put it aside and forget all about it for a month, then in January, after Christmas is all put away and recovered from, I can begin to read through and evaluate if there is worth to what I wrote, and what can stay and what needs to go . . . looking for inconsistencies and places that need to be revised or fleshed out . . . finding characters to weed out or revamp, etc. I have no doubt that I will enjoy that process when the time for it comes, because I always love revising and editing my writing, watching it slowly come together as I face the flaws and work to smooth the rough places. But that time is NOT now . . .

Interestingly, enough, I shared my story (61 single-spaced pages) in all its spectacularly unedited glory with a friend today. Normally that would be hard for me to do. Usually it is like sharing your baby . . . holding it up for people to criticize . . . Under other circumstances I would be feeling vulnerable and defensive and very, very protective. Perhaps I would feel that way about THIS story, if I had started with a storyline in mind, like so many did.

But when I began this 'adventure' I had NOTHING . . . No ideas at ALL . . . no story line . . . no characters in mind . . . not even any idea of the KIND of story I wished to write about. Because of that, I feel this curious sense of detachment with it, which is very unusual for me. Perhaps that simply means that on some level I already KNOW that it stinks (a very real possibility). I suspect, though, that it is more because I didn't PLAN this story . . . I had no expectations or dreams for it . . . so that I keep being surprised by the things the characters do and say, the little twists and turns in the plot that I didn't plan or expect. Because of that, I feel no more ownership of it than I would if a scruffy dog followed me home from the grocery store. I might feel curiosity, maybe even compassion, but I am not going to feel any sense of responsibility for it. Does that make sense? So if you say to me, "WHOA . . . that is ONE ugly puppy", I don't get defensive or hurt . . . I would simply look over at the dog, and think 'you know, she is right'. LOL . . .

So I shared it with someone who asked to read it. That is a first for me. Oh, not the first time I have shared my writing. I have done that numerous times, even submitted some for publication, and had a few pieced actually published. But I NEVER shared it (whatever 'it' was . . . a poem, a story, an essay, whatever) before *I* was pretty satisfied with the level of polishing and reworking and revising I had done . . . I had to first get it to the point that I wouldn't be embarrassed by its unfinishedness before I could share it with someone whose judgment I respected.

I think that just might be progress . . .

Or . . . now that I think of it, perhaps it is just sheer mental exhaustion . . .



LOL . . . time will tell, I suppose . . . ;o)



But in the meantime, I am enjoying the process of becoming acquainted with these people who have chosen to inhabit my story . . . It has been a pleasure to get to know them, and watch them act and react to life as it happens around them.

PLUGGING AWAY . . .

Sometimes this is what I feel like with this NaNoWriMo challenge . . . fifty thousand words is a LOT of words . . . and this week was definitely harder than week one. Apparently there really IS a 'week two' syndrome where you feel overwhelmed and like kicking yourself for even THINKING of writing a stupid book . . . and I had it . . .

But . . . I still just kept plugging away, and decided not to worry about my word count as much as just try to recapture my enjoyment of my story . . . and I finally got past my slump.

Today is day 13 . . . and my word count is 28,746, so I am well over halfway to the 'finish' line . . . and not quite half way through the month. I take Sundays off . . . not really sure why, since this isn't WORK or even SCHOOL . . . but I think it helps keep it fresh to be able to step away from it completely for one day a week, and not even worry about the story or accomplishing anything on it.

I have to admit, this may be a REALLY hastily written work-in-progress, not yet edited or revised or fleshed out, but I LIKE it. Oh, I freely admit that it may very well be sheer rubbish . . . but it is MY sheer rubbish . . . and I am growing quite fond of my characters and the situations that are building here.

They are my FRIENDS . . .

LOL . . . and here I thought people outgrew their imaginary friends when they grew up . . . I guess *I* am one of the ones to just BEGIN to discover them in my 'old' age . . .

It's kinda fun, actually . . . ;o)