what exactly is the difference between a sliver and a splinter. here are both definitions. can you tell the difference?
Verb: Break or cause to break into small sharp fragments
Noun: A small, thin, sharp piece of wood, glass, or similar material broken off from a larger piece.
Verb: Cut or break (something) into small, thin, narrow pieces.
Noun: A small, thin, narrow piece of something cut or split off a larger piece.
yes, i am in the editing stage where word choice can drive you crazy. it's a little hysterical how precious and guarded i can become over words.
one of my crit buddies has been reading my manuscript. she'll send me corrections on large themes and plot problems, but then also smaller edits on sentence structure. it's all fabulously helpful. but i have to laugh at my reaction to some edits. here's how it goes:
corrie's sentence: But I saw it.
critt'ers suggestion: I saw it.
in my tiny basement apartment this is what happens next:
i remove the "but." i frown. i read the sentence aloud. i put the "but" back in. clearly, i think, the but lends much greater significance to that sentence. i sigh. i take it out, then think, f*$# it. "it's my but. what's one but? i can keep it there if i want to." and then feeling like some rebel, i read it once more. "HA today, the but stays!"
most likely next week, i'll chop it out without even remembering it had caused so much angst.
so that's what i'm heading back to now. a little good time back and forth with myself. who said the writing lifestyle wasn't sexy?
for your enjoyment, here is this week's hiphop video. i'm hiding in the back. 2 weeks off after being sick was clearly showing. so instead of searching for me, watch the boy dancing in front. he is AMAZING. when we're paired off into smaller groups i'm psyched when he's in mine. he makes you better.
wouldn't it be great it we had someone like that around us all the time. oh right, that's what the point of finding a spouse is supposed to be. maybe? right?
ps splinter was the first set of definitions. did you get it right?
Friday, April 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
In the middle or 18 days to go
I'm a little over half-way there and I've officially reached the freak out point. I won't be done in time. It won't be good enough. Blah.
So today is going to be a full on writing and editing day with hiphop as the break.
That's it on this front. Going to start working now. Look for a more fun blog on Friday.
So today is going to be a full on writing and editing day with hiphop as the break.
That's it on this front. Going to start working now. Look for a more fun blog on Friday.
Monday, April 25, 2011
um, what day is today? oh right, 20 days to go
today's a reading day. a reading of my WIP, that is.
i've written through to the end, been through a round of edits, and now i'm left with the wonderful feeling that my entire project is a complete mess!
ack! don't worry. i know this feeling well. i've been here before. it's the necessary shredding, cutting, bandaging, clarifying that takes place while you fill plot holes, make character reactions more believable and try to prevent in advance as many people as possible saying, i just didn't buy it when....
or hopefully that's what you do. usually first, you make things worse.
so today i'll be reading, tweeking, and probably getting sidetracked and working on a chapter that doesn't even need it. i'll also be talking to a woman about taking care of her mississippi horse and cattle ranch in august, but that's for another blog post. and lastly, i'll be working through this years easter basket/care package. though after last night's writing marathon, about 8 things are now missing from this picture. (they went missing in less than ten minutes too, oomph).
happy fixing the mess monday everyone!
i've written through to the end, been through a round of edits, and now i'm left with the wonderful feeling that my entire project is a complete mess!
ack! don't worry. i know this feeling well. i've been here before. it's the necessary shredding, cutting, bandaging, clarifying that takes place while you fill plot holes, make character reactions more believable and try to prevent in advance as many people as possible saying, i just didn't buy it when....
or hopefully that's what you do. usually first, you make things worse.
so today i'll be reading, tweeking, and probably getting sidetracked and working on a chapter that doesn't even need it. i'll also be talking to a woman about taking care of her mississippi horse and cattle ranch in august, but that's for another blog post. and lastly, i'll be working through this years easter basket/care package. though after last night's writing marathon, about 8 things are now missing from this picture. (they went missing in less than ten minutes too, oomph).
happy fixing the mess monday everyone!
Friday, April 22, 2011
23 days to go plus 7 churches
my family has exactly two religious traditions.
1. we don't put the baby Jesus into the creche scene until christmas morning.
2. on the thursday before Easter we visit seven churches.
i'm not going to pretend i know much about the holy thursday tradition. quick wikipedia research wasn't very enlightening -- visiting seven churches on holy thursday probably originated in Rome where people visited the seven pilgrim churches as penance. ta-dah.
in my history, visiting seven churches involved driving around in a bad neighborhood, in the cold, saying quick prayers, maybe lighting a candle, my mom talking about how much the old neighborhood has changed.
it's mom's tradition, afterall. she grew up in a Polish, Catholic neighborhood in Buffalo. the East side of Buffalo still has many beautiful Roman Catholic churches. the dark interiors are all gorgeous stained glass, incense emanates from dark woodwork, their grandeur evokes hushed voices and awe.
by the time my mom was an adult, many of the churches she'd visited as a child were closed. all of them now resided in what had become one of Buffalo's unsafest neighborhoods.
for me, the tradition of seven churches was a 'like' kind of thing. it depended on the year and my level of teen angst. a few years i thought of skipping right 'til the last minute. overall, the best part was that seven churches always ended at some diner or foodstop.
as an adult, moved away, my connection to any holiday has grown very faint. not being religious, with not much family around, most religious holidays now make me think of work. do i get the day off? will we be busy or slow?
sad and true.
but seven churches has stayed with me. last year i didn't plan very well. a friend and i rode our bikes around Carroll Gardens and Park Slope. even though we road past at least seven churches only one was open. we'd started too late. this year, we started plenty early.
the tradition is still weird to do without my parents. both years i brought a good Catholic with me. still i feel like an interloper just walking into any church, but sitting down for thirty seconds and praying? i kept expecting the pews to shock me. not to mention, do i close my eyes, fold my hands?
though i missed my mom, it's fun to bring an old tradition to a new city.
last night i went to seven places i normally walk past. most were beautiful, some were a little crowded, other's nearly empty, a couple were doing mass about the foot washing (something i'd never seen nor heard about in Buffalo), a few were doing services in Spanish. there was a statute of a saint with a flame shooting out his head. i lit a candle to Guadalupe and asked while we were in St. Francis which saint that was getting all the attention -- St. Francisco, my friend said. oh right, duh. plush seats, hard benches, stadium style theatres.
it was awesome.
there's something to be said for creating your own traditions as an adult. it makes you contemplate your past -- all of it -- from childhood to a few minutes ago. you feel unbelievably older and simultaneously young and naive. you begin to appreciate and realize how traditions are built -- slowly, with good intentions. and it makes you realize how the best part of family traditions is really the family.
all in all? seven churches year number 2? pretty incredible. my favorite part wasn't even that the night ended with massive amounts of chinese food.
1. we don't put the baby Jesus into the creche scene until christmas morning.
2. on the thursday before Easter we visit seven churches.
 |
| one |
 |
| two |
in my history, visiting seven churches involved driving around in a bad neighborhood, in the cold, saying quick prayers, maybe lighting a candle, my mom talking about how much the old neighborhood has changed.
it's mom's tradition, afterall. she grew up in a Polish, Catholic neighborhood in Buffalo. the East side of Buffalo still has many beautiful Roman Catholic churches. the dark interiors are all gorgeous stained glass, incense emanates from dark woodwork, their grandeur evokes hushed voices and awe.
by the time my mom was an adult, many of the churches she'd visited as a child were closed. all of them now resided in what had become one of Buffalo's unsafest neighborhoods.
 |
| three |
for me, the tradition of seven churches was a 'like' kind of thing. it depended on the year and my level of teen angst. a few years i thought of skipping right 'til the last minute. overall, the best part was that seven churches always ended at some diner or foodstop.
as an adult, moved away, my connection to any holiday has grown very faint. not being religious, with not much family around, most religious holidays now make me think of work. do i get the day off? will we be busy or slow?
sad and true.
 |
| four |
but seven churches has stayed with me. last year i didn't plan very well. a friend and i rode our bikes around Carroll Gardens and Park Slope. even though we road past at least seven churches only one was open. we'd started too late. this year, we started plenty early.
the tradition is still weird to do without my parents. both years i brought a good Catholic with me. still i feel like an interloper just walking into any church, but sitting down for thirty seconds and praying? i kept expecting the pews to shock me. not to mention, do i close my eyes, fold my hands?
 |
| five |
last night i went to seven places i normally walk past. most were beautiful, some were a little crowded, other's nearly empty, a couple were doing mass about the foot washing (something i'd never seen nor heard about in Buffalo), a few were doing services in Spanish. there was a statute of a saint with a flame shooting out his head. i lit a candle to Guadalupe and asked while we were in St. Francis which saint that was getting all the attention -- St. Francisco, my friend said. oh right, duh. plush seats, hard benches, stadium style theatres.
 |
| six (way back there, almost forgot to take a picture) |
there's something to be said for creating your own traditions as an adult. it makes you contemplate your past -- all of it -- from childhood to a few minutes ago. you feel unbelievably older and simultaneously young and naive. you begin to appreciate and realize how traditions are built -- slowly, with good intentions. and it makes you realize how the best part of family traditions is really the family.
 |
| seven |
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
25 days to go
i might be the only person in nyc who's happy about the grey weather this month. i wake up in the morning, see a sliver of grey out my window, and think YES!
sorry other millions of city dwellers, but grey skies = productive corrie.
yesterday was another twelve hour writing day. i left my house and computer only once, to go to the market. it really is a market, too. it's set up in a warehouse with lots and lots of boxes of fresh produce for cheap!
5 blood oranges for $2. 3 artichokes for $2. 8 limes for $1.
these prices are unheard of around here, and what's even better, the produce doesn't come pre-wrapped in styrofoam and saran wrap. (come on major grocery chains, what's the deal with this? haven't you heard about this planet's garbage problems.)
the juries still out on whether the produce from the market actually tastes good. i made a delicious salad yesterday and boiled an artichoke. the artichoke was eh. the salad was a-ma-zing, but probably because it was slathered in dressing.
i'm babbling now. the way some who hasn't left the house in the last 36 hours might.
progress report? i've reached the middle of my draft. always a tricky place for me as i tend to slow down my plots. today it goes off to my first reading friend. and then it's ONWARD to the end.
happy wednesday, everyone!
sorry other millions of city dwellers, but grey skies = productive corrie.
yesterday was another twelve hour writing day. i left my house and computer only once, to go to the market. it really is a market, too. it's set up in a warehouse with lots and lots of boxes of fresh produce for cheap!
5 blood oranges for $2. 3 artichokes for $2. 8 limes for $1.
these prices are unheard of around here, and what's even better, the produce doesn't come pre-wrapped in styrofoam and saran wrap. (come on major grocery chains, what's the deal with this? haven't you heard about this planet's garbage problems.)
the juries still out on whether the produce from the market actually tastes good. i made a delicious salad yesterday and boiled an artichoke. the artichoke was eh. the salad was a-ma-zing, but probably because it was slathered in dressing.
i'm babbling now. the way some who hasn't left the house in the last 36 hours might.
progress report? i've reached the middle of my draft. always a tricky place for me as i tend to slow down my plots. today it goes off to my first reading friend. and then it's ONWARD to the end.
happy wednesday, everyone!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
sustenance or 27 days to go
Finish My Novel in a Month: DAY 4
i'm sick. again. have i mentioned that recently?
this makes it twice in one month.
to keep things interesting, my body's caught two totally different illnesses. so the medicine i bought for the first, is exactly the opposite of what i need for this one. at least i got to be in the Guinness book for participating in the Worlds Longest Rite Aid line with Only One Cashier On.
wait, what? that's not a category? damn.
the fact that i'm even buying medicine is proof that i'm not well. i'm usually of the "sick is sick, you're supposed to be suffering" school of thought. but it's bad enough that i'm working with a pink mustache of chapped upper lip. a cough suppressant is a must.
speaking of work, today my friend told me about a great get better broth. first, slowly simmer garlic in some good chicken stock for 30 minutes, blend, salt, and sip. "it's so good for you!" she said, as if the chocolate chips i'd eaten as my breakfast and lunch weren't.
for the record, this is a current picture of my fridge:
there ain't a lot of healthy that's coming out of this sucker at the moment. and yet, i still managed to make this delicious concoction the other night. i like to call it corriebimbop. i even lightly pickled those cucumbers.
don't be too impressed. this is a picture of my usual daily sustenance:
except minus the juice and tea. those are my attempts at healthiness.
sick or not, on a writing front things are flying along fabulously. on friday i worked for 12 hours straight. thus i've won a place in the Guinness Book for Most Consecutive Hours Spent Trying to Write a Novel in a Month on her Dell XPS Laptop While Sick.
what? also not a category? wt-hell is Guinness Book good for?
one of my crit groupers is reading my WIP for me and she responded with amazing edits only a few short hours after i sent pages. so minus the pink chapped mustache, the hacking cough, and the piles of dirty tissues i'm surrounded by (on my beautiful new (old) couch) all in all i'm off to a good start.
i'm even feeling cocky enought to think that i can finish faster than a month. waaa-haaa-haaaa. but maybe that's just the theraflu night time starting to kick in.
thank you upstairs housemate for delivering the goods and helping get my couch in the door. thank you crit friend for being such an excellent reader. thank you theraflu for knocking me out. and goodbye Day Four in my quest.
and to all a good night.
i'm sick. again. have i mentioned that recently?
this makes it twice in one month.
to keep things interesting, my body's caught two totally different illnesses. so the medicine i bought for the first, is exactly the opposite of what i need for this one. at least i got to be in the Guinness book for participating in the Worlds Longest Rite Aid line with Only One Cashier On.
wait, what? that's not a category? damn.
 |
| if this doesn't look that horrific, know that there were many tiny old ladies squeezed into the spaces between the taller people. |
speaking of work, today my friend told me about a great get better broth. first, slowly simmer garlic in some good chicken stock for 30 minutes, blend, salt, and sip. "it's so good for you!" she said, as if the chocolate chips i'd eaten as my breakfast and lunch weren't.
for the record, this is a current picture of my fridge:
 |
| (yes, i have a mini fridge. yes, that's annoying.) |
there ain't a lot of healthy that's coming out of this sucker at the moment. and yet, i still managed to make this delicious concoction the other night. i like to call it corriebimbop. i even lightly pickled those cucumbers.
don't be too impressed. this is a picture of my usual daily sustenance:
except minus the juice and tea. those are my attempts at healthiness.
sick or not, on a writing front things are flying along fabulously. on friday i worked for 12 hours straight. thus i've won a place in the Guinness Book for Most Consecutive Hours Spent Trying to Write a Novel in a Month on her Dell XPS Laptop While Sick.
what? also not a category? wt-hell is Guinness Book good for?
one of my crit groupers is reading my WIP for me and she responded with amazing edits only a few short hours after i sent pages. so minus the pink chapped mustache, the hacking cough, and the piles of dirty tissues i'm surrounded by (on my beautiful new (old) couch) all in all i'm off to a good start.
i'm even feeling cocky enought to think that i can finish faster than a month. waaa-haaa-haaaa. but maybe that's just the theraflu night time starting to kick in.
thank you upstairs housemate for delivering the goods and helping get my couch in the door. thank you crit friend for being such an excellent reader. thank you theraflu for knocking me out. and goodbye Day Four in my quest.
and to all a good night.
Friday, April 15, 2011
ready, set...
a month.
depending how you look at it, it's a long or short period of time. going on vacation? a month is luxuriously long. one month out of our entire lives? tiny.
writing a novel in a month? i think that falls somewhere in between.
that's what i'm doing. starting today -- April 15 -- i'm going to finish my current WIP by mid-May. how close am i to finishing? 70 pages of serious writing, then many rounds of revision.
is it doable? yes, maybe, i think so.
will i be doing anything else this month but writing? no.
will i still be blogging? yes, of course! tho get ready for posts about page counts and stress-induced hallucinations. hmmm that actually sounds pretty interesting.
after my bit of glum news the other day, i called one of my best girls. in the background her husband said, "tell corrie to keep writing. no matter what." i met with my agent yesterday and she and i came to the same conclusion.
you can be mamby-pamby or you can go balls to the wall and finish a damn (awesome) project in a month. so with some strong antioxidant tea bubbling on the stove (can you believe i'm coming down with a cold now?), arms sore from moving my giant, fabulous new couch (that's why it cost only $35, you need to help), i am all ready and set.
so here....i....GO!!!
depending how you look at it, it's a long or short period of time. going on vacation? a month is luxuriously long. one month out of our entire lives? tiny.
writing a novel in a month? i think that falls somewhere in between.
that's what i'm doing. starting today -- April 15 -- i'm going to finish my current WIP by mid-May. how close am i to finishing? 70 pages of serious writing, then many rounds of revision.
is it doable? yes, maybe, i think so.
will i be doing anything else this month but writing? no.
will i still be blogging? yes, of course! tho get ready for posts about page counts and stress-induced hallucinations. hmmm that actually sounds pretty interesting.
after my bit of glum news the other day, i called one of my best girls. in the background her husband said, "tell corrie to keep writing. no matter what." i met with my agent yesterday and she and i came to the same conclusion.
you can be mamby-pamby or you can go balls to the wall and finish a damn (awesome) project in a month. so with some strong antioxidant tea bubbling on the stove (can you believe i'm coming down with a cold now?), arms sore from moving my giant, fabulous new couch (that's why it cost only $35, you need to help), i am all ready and set.
so here....i....GO!!!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
relativity
so i had a bit of bad news yesterday. i mean, in the grand scheme, it's nothing horrible. all my loved ones are safe, happy, healthy. it was more like, i had "put corrie in a glum mood" kind of news.
not an hour after receiving it, i went out and bought a leather love seat.
do i need a new couch? not really. do i have space for a new couch? definitely not. and yet, it's being delivered here within the afternoon.
i bought the couch for $300 from a housing works thrift store. it's cute, comfy, adult-like. what makes this a little less happy of a purchase? i'm paying $75 to some moving company to have it delivered. i didn't call around for quotes. just said yes to the first guy that answered his phone.
yesterday a friend asked why i wasn't going home for easter. he'd heard about my glum news and knew i could use the break. i told him that since i last looked, airfare jumped to a point that it was too expensie.
that's why you're not going home? he laughed, as if it was the most absurd thing ever. how much did it go up?
$75, i told him. the same amount of money i dropped less than 24 hours later -- not happily, mind you -- to move a piece of furniture that i don't really need.
these are the moments i find interesting in life. the choices we make. the excuses we give ourselves.
the $75 moving company decision was probably a stupid one (i could have rented a uhaul for a quarter of that -- but oh the pain in the ass). in the grand scheme, it matters not a stitch. more money will come in. more will go out. that's why the not going home for the same amount of money, was probably just as silly.
** UPDATE other mover called me back! $35 but i need to help. booyah.
not an hour after receiving it, i went out and bought a leather love seat.
do i need a new couch? not really. do i have space for a new couch? definitely not. and yet, it's being delivered here within the afternoon.
i bought the couch for $300 from a housing works thrift store. it's cute, comfy, adult-like. what makes this a little less happy of a purchase? i'm paying $75 to some moving company to have it delivered. i didn't call around for quotes. just said yes to the first guy that answered his phone.
yesterday a friend asked why i wasn't going home for easter. he'd heard about my glum news and knew i could use the break. i told him that since i last looked, airfare jumped to a point that it was too expensie.
that's why you're not going home? he laughed, as if it was the most absurd thing ever. how much did it go up?
$75, i told him. the same amount of money i dropped less than 24 hours later -- not happily, mind you -- to move a piece of furniture that i don't really need.
these are the moments i find interesting in life. the choices we make. the excuses we give ourselves.
the $75 moving company decision was probably a stupid one (i could have rented a uhaul for a quarter of that -- but oh the pain in the ass). in the grand scheme, it matters not a stitch. more money will come in. more will go out. that's why the not going home for the same amount of money, was probably just as silly.
** UPDATE other mover called me back! $35 but i need to help. booyah.
Monday, April 11, 2011
or maybe just some epsom salts? por favor?
NYC can be tough on the soul. oops. i mean sole.
my friend Jared came into work yesterday with this happily bursting question, "Do you notice anything different about me?"
i said, "You look taller."
after a few guesses from other people he said, "i got shoe inserts!" which, ahem, technically means i was right. his pronouncement was instantly met with envy and awe.
my co-workers and i stand for over 8 hours a day. not everyday mind you, but really when you peek in our shoes, they should all be lined with alien-looking gel pads. the percentage that are? 4% i.e. Jared's. (that is not a scientifically calculated number, but it feels right).
when i got home last night my feet were throbbing. i like to think it's my body's version of being a cry-baby. jared got shoe inserts, we want them! they're still sore today. could be because my work shoes are about to disintegrate. any day now i'm waiting for those little work Crocs to start crying. we're not meant to take this abuse.
i didn't snap a photo of the work shoes, but here are my other most-worn VIPs (none of which, mind you, i intend to toss).
so i think on my way in today, i'm going to invest in some inserts (notice the "i think).
after all, lately, i'm all about doing things that are good for the sole, erm, soul.
my friend Jared came into work yesterday with this happily bursting question, "Do you notice anything different about me?"
i said, "You look taller."
after a few guesses from other people he said, "i got shoe inserts!" which, ahem, technically means i was right. his pronouncement was instantly met with envy and awe.
my co-workers and i stand for over 8 hours a day. not everyday mind you, but really when you peek in our shoes, they should all be lined with alien-looking gel pads. the percentage that are? 4% i.e. Jared's. (that is not a scientifically calculated number, but it feels right).
when i got home last night my feet were throbbing. i like to think it's my body's version of being a cry-baby. jared got shoe inserts, we want them! they're still sore today. could be because my work shoes are about to disintegrate. any day now i'm waiting for those little work Crocs to start crying. we're not meant to take this abuse.
i didn't snap a photo of the work shoes, but here are my other most-worn VIPs (none of which, mind you, i intend to toss).
 |
| these suckers i actually had resoled last year. the nails are starting to pop through. |
 |
| these are what my work Crocs are starting to look like. |
 |
| um, no comment. except maybe, ew. |
so i think on my way in today, i'm going to invest in some inserts (notice the "i think).
after all, lately, i'm all about doing things that are good for the sole, erm, soul.
Friday, April 8, 2011
a big bad mama weekend
swagger.
i love it. when i'm in it, simple things like walking down the subway platform suddenly feel cool. you don't mess with me when i have my swagger on. my hair is better, my jeans fit tighter. i'm a whole container of daaaaamn girl!
at hip hop on wednesday we danced to Big Bad Mama, by Foxy Brown. the whole class was into it. it was old school and fun, all about strut and cockiness. i left with a new hitch in my step thinking life was fine. (but, you know, pronounced 90's style, fa-hyne!)
i met up with a friend afterwards. the swagger continued. i'm not saying it had anything to do with it, but the bartender bought us a few rounds of drinks (it probably had more to do that we were talking restaurant industry with him, but shhhh).
everyone's gotta feel this way this weekend! i decided. so that's your charge. blast some music. find Big Bad Mama. Yeah I Know You Want Me by Ciara works wonders, too (seriously check it). then shake it and let the swagger ensue. it's the perfect accompaniment to any weekend.
and just 'cause i like it so much, and i still got a little daaaaamn girl left in me, i'm posting the video twice, from two different angles.
i love it. when i'm in it, simple things like walking down the subway platform suddenly feel cool. you don't mess with me when i have my swagger on. my hair is better, my jeans fit tighter. i'm a whole container of daaaaamn girl!
at hip hop on wednesday we danced to Big Bad Mama, by Foxy Brown. the whole class was into it. it was old school and fun, all about strut and cockiness. i left with a new hitch in my step thinking life was fine. (but, you know, pronounced 90's style, fa-hyne!)
i met up with a friend afterwards. the swagger continued. i'm not saying it had anything to do with it, but the bartender bought us a few rounds of drinks (it probably had more to do that we were talking restaurant industry with him, but shhhh).
everyone's gotta feel this way this weekend! i decided. so that's your charge. blast some music. find Big Bad Mama. Yeah I Know You Want Me by Ciara works wonders, too (seriously check it). then shake it and let the swagger ensue. it's the perfect accompaniment to any weekend.
and just 'cause i like it so much, and i still got a little daaaaamn girl left in me, i'm posting the video twice, from two different angles.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
predicting good fortune
i covered a shift on friday. i wasn't very gracious in my acceptance of said shift, but a friend was sick so i agreed. and then a strange thing happened. it turned out to be fun.
i've noticed this in the past when i've picked up a shift. the mental process goes something like: i'm not supposed to be here right now = this doesn't really count as work = this isn't so bad
maybe it was just that i'd decided to throw my earnings in a big fat envelope that says VACATION!
anyway, suffice it to say, i was in a good mood.
it's amazing to me how much other people pick up on that. there was one couple in particular i connected with. somewhere near the end of the meal, the gentleman in the couple, thanked me for being so friendly. who can i speak to about this dining experience! he asked, making me laugh at how much tone of voice changes meanings. as he was getting up to leave he stopped me again.
"Good things are going to happen for you," he said.
i've been thinking about his prediction ever since.
nevermind that my family has been relentlessly telling me this for years (um ahem, can those good things please hurry up?). but this simple affirmation from a stranger, truly made my day. i felt touched. special. and coming from a stranger, the benediction seemed more credible. it was like someone took away the blindfold. by goodness -- good things were going to happen for me!
so because i can't keep anything to myself -- ever (* note to friends, yes you must specify "this stays between us" when telling me a secret) -- i'm sharing it with you.
good things are going to happen, for all of us. they might already be here. you'll see.
i've noticed this in the past when i've picked up a shift. the mental process goes something like: i'm not supposed to be here right now = this doesn't really count as work = this isn't so bad
maybe it was just that i'd decided to throw my earnings in a big fat envelope that says VACATION!
anyway, suffice it to say, i was in a good mood.
it's amazing to me how much other people pick up on that. there was one couple in particular i connected with. somewhere near the end of the meal, the gentleman in the couple, thanked me for being so friendly. who can i speak to about this dining experience! he asked, making me laugh at how much tone of voice changes meanings. as he was getting up to leave he stopped me again.
"Good things are going to happen for you," he said.
i've been thinking about his prediction ever since.
nevermind that my family has been relentlessly telling me this for years (um ahem, can those good things please hurry up?). but this simple affirmation from a stranger, truly made my day. i felt touched. special. and coming from a stranger, the benediction seemed more credible. it was like someone took away the blindfold. by goodness -- good things were going to happen for me!
so because i can't keep anything to myself -- ever (* note to friends, yes you must specify "this stays between us" when telling me a secret) -- i'm sharing it with you.
good things are going to happen, for all of us. they might already be here. you'll see.
Monday, April 4, 2011
a writing monday
the problem with having a job is it gets in the way of all the fun things in life.
want to dance to the end of the routine you love in hip hop?
can't. have to leave early to run to work.
have lots of great ideas for the novel you're working on?
too bad. you have to go in early to iron.
want to adventure to DC to look at all the cherry blossoms in bloom?
nope. you picked up that extra shift.
i know, good things come from working too. like the money you're paid that makes everything else in life possible. the socializing. the massive amounts of mashed potatoes i'm able to consume at the end of the night. but it doesn't mean that i still don't long for the summer vacation of our youth.
it makes me wonder...we're the adults, right? the "deciders" of our lives and the systems we live under? what bozo nixed summers off for the rest of us? right. the same bozo who got sick of watching our whole culture shut down for two months while everyone lied on their couches eating junk food and watching reruns.
ahh. i used to be so good at relaxing. lately, i've been trying to remember how. it's one of those fun things that if you get it wrong, you're not any worse off.
happy, hazy, non-vacation monday, everyone. now back to work.
want to dance to the end of the routine you love in hip hop?
can't. have to leave early to run to work.
have lots of great ideas for the novel you're working on?
too bad. you have to go in early to iron.
want to adventure to DC to look at all the cherry blossoms in bloom?
nope. you picked up that extra shift.
i know, good things come from working too. like the money you're paid that makes everything else in life possible. the socializing. the massive amounts of mashed potatoes i'm able to consume at the end of the night. but it doesn't mean that i still don't long for the summer vacation of our youth.
it makes me wonder...we're the adults, right? the "deciders" of our lives and the systems we live under? what bozo nixed summers off for the rest of us? right. the same bozo who got sick of watching our whole culture shut down for two months while everyone lied on their couches eating junk food and watching reruns.
ahh. i used to be so good at relaxing. lately, i've been trying to remember how. it's one of those fun things that if you get it wrong, you're not any worse off.
happy, hazy, non-vacation monday, everyone. now back to work.
Friday, April 1, 2011
quarterly
this morning i mailed out 4 large checks. they signify the end of my tax season. or rather, just the beginning. because this year i finally learned my lesson and will begin making quarterly payments.
now would be the perfect time to hit me up with a great, legitimate, get rich quick scheme. because this whole working and then giving lots of your money away to the feds thing, isn't so fun.
what is fun? treating yourself to a massage after you finish your taxes.
that's what i did yesterday. it's the first massage i've had in new york city. and only the third one i've had in my life.
it was awesome.
i lay there thinking, it's too bad i had to give all that money to the feds when this woman clearly deserved it more. here's what i learned from my experience.
1. do not wear eye make-up to your massage because it will be left all over the sheet that you're face down on. what isn't left on the sheet, will be left on your face.
2. having a stranger rub your butt is surprisingly amazing.
3. those hot rocks that they put in your hands at one point? they want those back. so when they try to take them back. release them!
the girl and i were giggling through most of the massage because i was such a novice.
"no, no, turn this way, please." "no, no, sit up please." "okay, let go of the rock."
so this will be my new tradition. pay taxes. treat self to massage. and now that i'm paying taxes quarterly.... naw, my cheapness would never be able to justify that. but at least next time i won't go in with my socks on.
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