IT'S ALIVE!!

I HAVE RETURNED!

I have finally finished Camp NaNoWriMo, so I'm not totally sick of writing anymore. Here's an update on where we're at. 

Health: 

Still no caffeinated soda. I finally bought a Wii and a couple of Just Dance games (there's a Disney game with "We're All in This Together" but the choreography is different from the movie which is BLASPHEMY). The weight's been fluctuating a bit. Admittedly that giant bag of M&Ms might have been an unwise purchase. But with the weather growing warmer I have been out on my bike and walking much more often. I've also been looking for some healthier food and drink choices. But god help me, those "essenced sparkling waters" are virtually tasteless.

Driving: 

I HAVE IMPROVED. I believe the words dad used was "much better". Considering I started out at "YOU'RE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE" not sucking is a true blessing. Truth be told, I'm more eager now to learn than I was before (for reasons I will put in another post). I really need a car to make all the places I have to go for my Masters work. I'll literally be hopping between two states on a daily basis, crossing the Mississippi River more than Oregon Trail pioneers (since they, you know, really only crossed it once). 

Reading Challenge: 

Three books read in April. I found a super easy read in one of those smutty romance trilogies. Books one and two counted as a protagonist with my profession (student) and a book you can read in a day (cuz I did). Then I went to the library, got two books, and read one of those in a day. I have once again validated my bookworminess. 

Writing; 

As part of Camp NaNoWrimo, I wrote 75,000 words on a story in less than one month. My average words per day was nearly 3,000. That particularly story is super long. I had over 25,000 words to start out with, added another 75k, and I'm not even halfway through. It's taking a lot of effort to resist the "I could make this a series" urge. One series is enough. Also, I want a giant book, long enough for my father to consider worthy to be called a novel (i.e. over 400 pages). 

There will be some more philosophical posts coming, but there's no need for two blog posts in one day (and I leave for work soon). But I finally feel like I am back on track. 

P.S. Shout out to the sister that's still smoke free! Not feeling choked while driving around is a wonderful feeling. 

Terrible News

Terrible News

I have begun to lag. I didn't mean to. I'm pretty sure I didn't even notice it happening. But next thing I know I'm making more excuses for not doing things. I haven't ridden my bike as much as I should be (although the weather has taken a turn for the worse and kinda taken the option away from me). I've already lost about 5 lbs since the beginning of the year and I'd love to be under 200 by the end. So I have to find a way to jumpstart things again. 

The second issue is Camp NaNoWriMo. I mentioned it in the last post, but it is essentially a push to write. There is no editing, just creating. I've done this twice before and managed to write 50,000 words in a month two times. This time I'm going for 75,000 and things are going well. I'm actually excited for the story to progress, although I had a bit of  snafu when I spilled water on my keyboard and permanently killed a couple keys. Thank Zeus for Logitech's wireless accessories. 

Other random updates: soda continues to be a non-issue. Driving continues to be a major issue. I haven't really tried it again since the last time it went super wrong. I keep waiting for a day off to try again, but it seems my days off have all been rainy or busy. I know I have to keep at it. I'm aware. I just really don't want to. 

If I blink for too long, summer will be suddenly upon me. And I still have things that need to be done. I should probably get back to work. But binge watching Project Runway on only semi-legal sites is so much more fun.

#LondonTiptonClapping

I Would Like to Give An Update

But I don't really have anything to report. My hours have gone back up at work and Camp NaNoWriMo begins tomorrow (something I should probably write about tomorrow...if my hands aren't cramped from typing already). I haven't done much with driving as of yet, as the gloom and doom of rainy weather has made it a bit daunting. But that's for another day. 

What I'm here to talk about is London Tipton. And that phrase, to anyone that wasn't a tween or parent-there-of in the mid 2000s, will be befuddling. London Tipton was a character on an old Disney Channel show, "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody". She was the airheaded heiress (on the one show that had the Asian girl as the dumb one and the blonde as the smart one) that was known for clapping her hands together quickly and yelling "Yay me!" 

As I tweeny-bopped, I thought that was stupid. As a soon-to-be 23 year old, this speaks to me. I've found myself going "yay me!" far more often than I would have thought possible.

"I rode my bike today, yay me!" 

"I bought my own groceries and made my own dinner, yay me!" 

"I've gotten out of bed before 9 am every day this week, yay me!" 

Now it sounds stupid to cheer over such little things, but have you ever noticed how life automatically gets hard when you hit your 20s? You go from a teenager with a curfew and meals to a slightly older teenager without a curfew and an on-campus meal plan, to a mid-20s adult that is somehow supposed to know how to pay taxes, grocery shop and write a cover letter for your resume. Sometimes you luck out and learn this stuff as you go. Other times you suddenly realize you'r supposed to be an adult, but you don't remember covering this in basic training. I mean, sure highschool is supposed to help. But highschool never taught me what a 401k is. 

So I've found that I deserve praise for doing the little, adulty things. And if no one else deems fit to give it to me, I shall give it to myself. And no #humblebrag either. Eventually there will come a day when planning a grocery shopping trip will no longer require a "yay me!". And on that day I shall give myself another "yay me!" to commemorate how I no longer have to remind myself how to adult. 

So toss your successes in Elle Woods' snap cup and pat yourself on the back. You have an actual life you put together. Yay you! 

Today Did Not Go Well

I Have Learned Things

Strange things. For instance, in the town I live in you must have a legitimate license to ride a bike. That is correct, bike riding requires a license. And yes, it requires passing a test to get (on bike laws, not the actual act of pedaling). But being the incredible rebel I am, I rode to the library anyway to drop off books. And then I rode back...most of the way. There was a particular hill I had to take a breather on. At one point I just hopped off and walked the bike the rest of the way home. It felt like there were bands of steel wrapped around my thighs. Also, my butt is still hurting.

I also drove a bit today. And I learned I suck. After driving around the highschool parking lot (because when I woke up this morning I decided I wanted to turn in circles while asshole teenagers stared at me) we went on a bit of a jaunt through a residential district. And I sucked. And I don't mean kinda suck. I went up on the curb at one point. And nearly got hit (but in my defense it was a 4 way without signs and I GOT THERE FIRST). Dad was yelling, telling me I was going to kill him and that if I kept driving like this I would never pass the test. The whole time I kept cursing society for making operating a vehicle capable of taking human life a necessity for day to day life. And more than once I thought about just quitting and going back to being the weird hipster that can't drive.  

But I made it home with no obvious damage to the car. But I've learned that I don't even have the correct mindset for a car. The "observe everything at once" mentality does not come naturally to me. The majority of the time I'm lucky if I'm fully in reality at all, much less cemented in it. Which you have to be, if you're going to be on the lookout for all manner of signs, speedometers, and other drivers who have been driving for longer but are still pulling dick moves on the road.

The solution, at least the only one I can think of at the moment, is to practice observing whilst a passenger in a car. This is kinda heartbreaking, as listening to music and daydreaming in a moving vehicle is in my top 10 favorite things to do. But I figure if I get used to noticing parked cars and signs while I'm a passenger, then it'll be second nature to look for them when I'm behind the wheel. But I'm still not going to enjoy this. Tonight I shall mostly likely fall asleep cursing Henry Ford's name to the depths of Dante's Inferno.   

Biking, Adulting, and Other Things I Should Have Been Doing Before Now

Bikes Are Magical

When you go running, you are acutely aware you are working out the entire time. You can feel every aching step, your poor lungs begging for you to stop. However, when you're on a bike, a strange thing occurs. You're still working out and you may end up out of breath. But no matter how hard you have to work, there's still an overall feeling of "woooohoooooo, I'm on a biiiiiiiiiiike!!!!!" you had in your childhood. Even when you wake up the next morning to discover certain pelvic bones are aching in new and interesting ways, it's still fun. 

I haven't been able to practice driving a lot, mostly because the weather has been rainy. And if I'm super nervous driving in perfect daylight on a nice day, I do not yet trust myself on a darker, rainy day. But I did realize I wasn't quite as relieved at not being able to practice driving as I'd been in the past (although I still wasn't that heartbroken) So there's that. But the weather has turned nicer today, so I may be trying again. 

I began looking at a couple sources on how to be published and I realized a couple things. 

A. People will demand unholy amounts of money just for advice on how to do a thing. 

B. I may be rushing into this. 

As getting published is one of my New Year's Resolutions, the idea would be to at least send it to a publisher by the end of the year. While that's still a decent goal to set, I've decided to relax a bit on the obsession. Most authors don't come into their stride until their mid-twenties (with the exceptions like Christopher Paolini) or thirties. I don't intend on waiting that long, but I got to pull back a bit. Get some more editors to read it, but focus on other things in the meantime. 

Next month is another Camp NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The official month is in November, but they have "camps" in April and July. The point of NaNo is to write. You set a goal, such as 50,000 words, to finish by the end of the month. This was a boon to me. I finished my time travel manuscript due to last July's camp and another literary piece in November. And as I am never without a partial draft, next month I will be continuing a medieval fantasy piece I started a couple months ago. It's already ten of thousands of words in, but I've been wanting to make a longer book. There are apparently people (*cough* Dad *cough*) that prefer their books to be longer...like over 400 pages. My longest is still sitting at 250, so I'm going to go for a longer plot. And this one is gonna be good. Plenty of assassination attempts and war. 

Getting healthier is going well. I went to a church event (strange for someone of my beliefs, I now. But in my defense dinner was free...and it was walking tacos) and one of the little old ladies just gushed over how well I looked. I know it was probably just the LoLs of a Baptist church being themselves (seriously, they make you feel like a rockstar for just showing up) but it made my night.

I suppose there may be something different about me lately, because I feel different. For the first time in my life, I'm regularly buying my own grocery items and other major purchases. I'm actually doing things I've always put off before. I'm voluntarily waking up early (8:30 may not be early for some of you, but for someone who used to regularly sleep in till noon, this is impressive) and going out and doing things. I'm walking to places instead of asking for rides. I'm actually learning the art of texting people back in a decent manner. I feel like...well, not an adult. But like...adult-ish. Adult adjacent. Like I still call my parents for help when crap hits the fan, but I'll try a couple things to fix it first. And that, my friends, is growth.   

Dale Earnhardt Sr. Is Rolling Over in His Grave Right Now

Next Month

I turn 23. And I still do not have a driver's license. But today I began the steps to change that, being my father's ride to Walmart. My father, who made a joke about how his life insurance was paid up in case I killed him. I wasn't sure whether or not he thought of the fact that I had been of legal driving age for nearly SEVEN YEARS and I was only just now taking a serious interest in it (aside from the multiple times I had to take the permit test...but after a certain point, that was just a matter of pride). At one point he said "well you wanted to do this" to which I replied "no, I need to do this. I don't want to learn this at all." 

Which is something that is apparently strange for my age. So many people are desperate to have cars. And while the independence could be nice, I just don't see how "amazeballs" it is.....I also don't see how "amazeballs" became a thing. But I've found I enjoy taking a walk to the store. Even if I was to get my own car (I would love to own a Prius) I would probably still opt for avoiding driving when possible. Less gas money, less danger, and less need for focus. 

I will give my father this much: he did take my driving anxiety into account somewhat. It's weird for me, as I'm not a naturally anxious person, to be so freaked out over something. And saying "you're fine" and "you're okay" over and over may not be the funnest activity you can do sitting shotgun (I prefer an All Time Low dance party myself) but it's a necessity. When literally everything makes you nervous, like "what if I drive off the road?" "oh god, I'm gonna hit that biker", and "why can't we just bring back horse-drawn carriages?" (Seriously though, how else am I supposed to run off to Gretna Green to elope if I don't have a carriage window to look out of?)

But we went to Walmart, and did a giant circle on country roads without dying. Although the jerkface known as my father figured out I was nervous about left turns and roundabouts. So naturally we had to do just that. With plenty of jerky forward motions, overly sharp turns, and drifting toward the curbs, I can say that I will never become the next feminist icon by kicking NASCAR ass. But one day I might be able to actually get myself places without having to ask for a ride.

I Did A Thing

I Made a Promise

...mostly to myself. I promised myself that when the weather was warmer, I would do two things: start running and begin learning how to drive. Well the last few days have been absurdly nice and it promises to stick around for a few days (but nothing beyond that) so I'm left to hold myself to my promises. 

The first was the running. I had heard of an app called "Zombies, Run" that was supposed to make running more interesting. You essentially have two apps running at once (which can kill your phone battery, but whatever). There's whatever you're using to play music, right now I'm on a Pandora Station until I can figure a way to use the music I have on my phone, and there's the actual Zombie app. Then at random points, the other "survivors" of the fictional zombie apocalypse will come over the "radio" to  give you an update on where the zombies are behind you or to give you encouragement. (I have to admit, hearing a "wow, look at them go" does wonders). There's an entire storyline behind it. For example, you learn that the runner that died before you was in love with the radio operator. [insert sad face] 

But if there's one thing I've learned from all my attempts at working out, it's that those fitness gurus that tell you "you'll feel great!" are LIARS. Yeah, it'll feel good eventually....after weeks of "death by heart disease sounds pretty good right about now". My calves were burning, my chest was constricted. And it just about overall sucked. So it speaks volumes that I'm actually willing to do it again tomorrow. 

Also tomorrow, I've talked to my dad about practicing driving. It wont be my first time behind the wheel, but at this point it'll be basically like I'm starting over. And when I say that this is a big deal for me, I'm not white-girl-exaggerating. I do not like the concept of being behind the wheel of a machine capable of taking human life. I am spacey and day-dreamy. And before someone replies with "just pay attention" or "just concentrate", let me say that those phrases do literally nothing and are no help. I have been cursed/blessed with a wandering mind for the past nearly-23 years of my life. I have been hit by cars (at very low speeds) because of daydreaming. Someone has screamed right behind me and I, sans-headphones, did not even hear them. If saying things like "focus" suddenly snapped me back to reality, then my imagination would really not be that impressive. 

But driving is a skill I can't really justify being without entirely, even if I hope against hope that I will live in a major city with public transit. So I'm going to face my anxiety-inducing, "fuck, I'm gonna end up on the news tonight" fears for the chance that I might be able to go somewhere without bothering someone for a ride. And those fears are when I know the person sitting shot gun. I don't even wanna think about the driving test.  

I don't know if this is a blog or a journal anymore.

In Like A Lamb...Or is it a Lion?

March is here! And with it, the realization that I have not been keeping up to date with this blog nearly enough. The local community college's musical has been well underway and shows have a way of sapping energy from you, even from the rest of your day. The matinee (a term which normally refers to an early afternoon show that was used today meaning "have fun getting up before 7 am") was this morning and I spent the rest of the day in sort of a dazed fog, mostly daydreaming and philosophical thoughts. I have come to one conclusion though: I'm scared. 

I have used the excuse that I am waiting on my amateur editors to send my story in to a publisher and that is the truth (which is ironic, since I have mentioned this before and I know that a lot of them read this...YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). But it's a convenient excuse nonetheless. Now I know this is nothing new. People have been afraid to show their work to the world since the first Neanderthal tried to explain fire to his loin-cloth clad comrades. But there's a reason for it, not the least of which is the process. Where should I even begin in searching for a publisher? What if the agent I'm interested in specializes in only one genre and I want to publish in multiple? Will I have to find more than one? Can you even legally do that? But more important than all that: what if what I wrote just isn't good enough? What if I am just not good enough? 

Yes, I know people are going to comment and tell me "Oh, of course you're good! You're amazing!!" And it's not that I don't love those comments. And I do believe the friends and family that have read my work are intelligent and discerning. But there's no accounting for bias. The fact of the matter is, for all that you who are related to and/or friends with me, you're never going to be truly as harsh as someone who doesn't know me at all. An agent, a publisher, an editor...they don't have a reason to speak any more highly of my work than it justly deserves. 

So how am I supposed to discern this for myself? Do I pester and irk those who volunteered to be editors and hope they show as little bias as possible? Do I find some random forum site to post the story and hope it isn't torn apart by trolls or becomes viral and makes the actual purchase of the book a moot point? Do I try to find other writers and pray that they're own ego doesn't make them look down on my work? Or do I trust my own mind, a fickle place speckled with neurosis that has so rarely been able to focus on one story long enough to create it entirely?

I have dreamed of becoming an author since I was 10. To learn in my 20s that I'm just not good enough would be destruction of a decade. A decade of imagining the covers, the signings, the best-seller lists. A decade of writing and rewriting, brainstorming and frantic, excited typing. To actually put the weird ideas that have gone around my head for so long in front of an expert is an incredible gamble: risk the destruction of the dream for the chance that it might come true. There's a part of me that wonders if the bet isn't better left unmade.  

Why Resolutions Fail

Baby Steps

This is about the time of year when people begin giving up on their resolutions in droves. I have done a lot of thinking about this fact and I think I've come up with some major reasons as to why people abandon all their grandiose goals not 1/6 of the way through the year. 

The first is all about change. This is the same reason political revolutions fail. If something was quick in changing, it will be quick in changing back. If you're overhauling your entire lifestyle (or overthrowing an entire government, I don't know what you do in your spare time) 9 times out of 10, you'll end up right where you started.

For instance, look at yo-yo dieting. Someone decides they want to lose as much weight as possible in as little time as possible, so they overhaul their entire eating habits. It normally leads to hunger and intense cravings (I don't care how many female-targeted diet brands say they can curb your late night cravings. When mama wants some chocolate at 11 pm, your granola bar's not gonna cut it) that then lead to losing the diet entirely. In most cases, people who go on these extreme diet programs will gain back all the weight they lost (lookin' at you, Kirstie Alley) and in a lot of cases, gain even more. 

Gradual change, however, lasts longer. By steadily eating slightly smaller amounts, you can actually decrease the size of your stomach. Still go for your normal snack routine, but switch to healthier alternatives. If you want something crunchy, go for carrots. If you want something sweet, go for fruit. Trade in white bread for wheat. Get a medium instead of a large. One day you'll look back and realize you actually have a healthy lifestyle and you can't remember exactly how it happened. 

Another reason I've noticed people fail is they have a sort of "perfection or bust" mentality. They want to go to the gym on a strict schedule. The first few times they can't make it, they give up the endeavor entirely. Which is asinine, as perfection is impossible. You're going to get sick, have a hectic schedule, or just forget to work out.Imagine if we took that mentality with other things in our life. Say the first time the supervisor at work had to discuss something with you that you were doing wrong (apparently at Target you can't tell people walking into your lane you're about to go on break even though NO ON PAYS ATTENTION TO THE LIGHTS ABOVE THE REGISTERS). Since you weren't doing it perfectly, your response is to quit the job entirely. Or say a student in school got a bad grade on a test and their response was to drop out of school and ride the rails as a hobo. It sounds stupid when put in those contexts, yet breaking down and having a soda (which I have not done...yet) seems to be excuse enough to return to caffeine-guzzling habits. The solution isn't to give up and wait till next year. Just take some Nyquil to beat the cold, rework your schedule, make a note. Get back to the gym the next day. Drink more water. 

 A third reason I've seen so many people fail to change is because they seem to relegate changes in lifestyle to being a strictly New Years Resolution thing. People thought it was strange that I began my resolutions before New Years. What would have been the point in waiting? It wasn't like the dead days of the holidays had magical "calories don't count" properties (but seriously, how awesome would it be if they did?). I decided I wanted to change for the better, so I started right away. And just because it's February doesn't mean it's the wrong time to change your lifestyle. My sister is making another attempt to quit smoking. As the girl who had to repeatedly leave the concert venue to stand outside so she could indulge in the habit, I wholeheartedly support this decision. Whatever, wherever, whenever the urge to shake things up for the better hits you, go for it. 

Today we have learned 

(Alternatively titled: "And so what we have learned applies to our lives today")

Beaucoup brownie points if you get that reference. 

A. You are not going to completely change yourself overnight. If you try, you're setting yourself up for failure. 

B. Short term failure is not an excuse to give up long term goals. 

C. Any time is a great time to make a better you. 

Happy February Resolutions Everybody!

The Beauty of Habits

21 Days

There's the old belief that it takes only 21 days to break yourself a habit or instill a new habit into your lifestyle. Now this may or may not be true (and I may or may not have given up on reading the articles discussing it out of boredom) but the idea behind it is true. If you work hard enough to instill new habits in your life, sooner or later they take off with you. 

Tonight after pit rehearsal (and a surprising dizzy spell, but I couldn't very well pass out in front of the same band director twice) my mom asked if I wanted to stop for a drink. In the old days of last year, my thoughts would have immediately jumped to "oooh, yes, Dr. Pepper". Instead it turned into "yeah, I could go for a Powerade. Now sports drinks may not be that much better for you, but it does prove one nice fact: I have broken my inherit cravings for soft drinks. I do not longingly stare at the bottles behind the glass at the gas station. I don't sigh when I see the "3 for $12" sale at Walmart. And I believe my wallet thanks me for that. 

The best part about habits is that you don't break them by skipping them for a day. True, I've skipped the morning workout more than once over the course of this month and a half. Some days it's for valid reasons. Other days...well I found out that I am not wholly capable of convincing myself to do as much as I should be. But the next day I always pick it up again. The other day I put on a pair of pants I used to avoid wearing as it was incredible tight around the thighs. But I realized they're not as tight. It's a small victory, but I was Z-snapping my way through that day. 

The not habitual things are a bit harder to keep up with. I haven't touched the story in a while (partially because I'm STILL WAITING ON PEOPLE TO GET BACK TO ME WITH COMMENTS) but I try to keep it in my thoughts. Fortunately for me, it is the beginning of a series that I have gigantic plans for so I'm always thinking about it. And tonight I finally began the formatting process to get the manuscript to novel standard. It is a marvelous process that makes your original manuscript much longer. It's actually over 250 pages now. Not bad for a manuscript written in a month and a half.  

I also finished yet another book for the reading challenge. It was "The Mammoth Book of Zombie Comics". And I learned two things. A. - It is not smart to read horror while you're laying on the floor of your bedroom (I swear to Zeus I was scared to look up because I knew I would be in-sight of the space under my bed). B -  There is still pleasure in finishing a book regardless of what kind of book it is.

Nearly halfway through the second month of the year and the New Year's resolutions are still going strong. At least...the ones I've started already. Is there such a thing as "March Resolutions"?

The Stupidity of Calling the Other Side Stupid: A Note on Facebook Politics

It has arrived.

A dreaded month. The only holiday is reserved for people in relationships (a fact which would make the original St. Valentine weep, but that is a discussion for another day) and spring is still several weeks out. Admittedly I have not stayed true to my workout as I would like. The workout was skipped a couple days and I seem to be struggling to wake up at 8:30 am. I still have few shifts a week, which leaves me fairly bored. I finished 4 books in one month (although the Shel Silverstein was an easy read) and have a couple more picked out besides.

I could go on about other things in regard to my resolutions (apparently I make incredibly shippable characters) but I would rather wax a bit philosophical. The Iowa caucus is tonight. People are working on what candidate to support as I speak, so naturally it's in the front of my mind. And there's one particularly thing I've noticed. People are stupid. Not for their political views. But because they equate political views with intelligence. 

These days Facebook is filled with jokes and memes that mock the opposite side's intelligence. Republicans are idiots that don't understand climate change or the first amendment. Democrats are idiots that don't understand economics or the second amendment. Sanders is a communist. Trump is a fascist. The Democrats apologizers will be our downfall. The Republican bible thumpers will lead us into a new dark age. 

All of that is stupid. 

I'll admit to sharing my own comics mocking Republican stances, but lately I've seen how it comes across from the other side. If you share those things or say those things, you don't look like an intelligent social observer. You look narrow-minded. You look like you can't handle the other side's argument. In short, you look unintelligent. Mocking someone's stance has never been an effective tool for changing their mind. If anything, it convinces them they're in the right.

Do you have to agree with the other side? Of course not. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But never equate opinions with intelligence. Just use the golden rule. If you don't want someone to call you a anti-abortion bigot, don't call them a baby killer. If you don't want someone to call you a lazy-ass welfare recipient, don't call someone a greedy capitalist pig. There's a difference between an attack and returning fire. If you can't handle the war, don't fire the first shot.

The Month Mark

Happy Monthiversary!

Honestly, I cannot think for the life of me how you could spell that. It's not a real word anyway, no matter how many over-attached girlfriends use it in Facebook. But I have managed to make it one month. No soda, a lot of editing (recently started a handwritten fantasy epic that has made me realize how many colloquialisms use modern technological references) and 3 books read so far. I have started my murder mystery, a dry wit filled book with multiple instances of 4th wall breaking written by the creator of Winnie the Pooh.

I pause to look back on one month of doing things. It takes till the 25th sit up for my abs to start feeling it and the 75th jumping jack before I start to feel truly winded. Come warmer weather I may even start running. But that's for a future Margaret who doesn't mind things jiggling in public. Driving is also a warmer weather activity that poor future Margaret will not be enjoying.

The biggest downfall coming up will be chocolate. As I am currently dating myself I may feel the pressure of buy myself chocolate to celebrate such a long lasting relationship. Including the wickedly delicious German chocolate brownies my father just had to tempt me with, I may need to be wary of my sugar intake. 

The boredom has not lessened all that much. There have been some plans with friends, including a rather fun road trip to see Star Wars in IMAX coming up (I would watch the first 6 first...but the internet already clued me in to the major plot points) and the writing. Pit rehearsals for the musical have begun, meaning I have another 6 hours a week I'm actually doing something. I was pleasantly surprised that I could fall into switching from bass to treble clef so quickly, so all green lights on that front (see what I mean about colloquialisms?) 

Here's hoping for the next "monthiversary" I will have a decent work shift and begin seeing actual differences in my physicality. Or it'll be as boring and unimpressive as any other monthiversary. I never presume to tell the future.   

If I may be permitted a digression...

The hardest challenge

...for an 11 year old to a 14 year old is admitting they still like the same silly things from their childhoods. But the hardest challenge for a twenty-something is admitting we're not the best at what we love. While the internet is filled with "adulting is hard!" posts (although this woman has a savings accounts, professional email address and regularly gets up before 9 am, thank you very much) mentally, we still have the teenage aspect of feeling like we're at the top of our game. We'll give the 30 somethings and up props for managing parenthood and bill-paying. But admitting that we're not excelling in our new job or shooting to the heights of our chosen path at breakneck speed is not our strong suit. 

Tonight, I have finally broken down and began looking at those "how to become a better writer" blogs. It can be difficult to find the better ones, as they can range from the vague "you can do it!" encouragements that give little to no actual advice to the strict "do it my way or you're no real writer" set. And true, published authors tend to have more validation in the field. But let's keep in mind that Madeleine L'Engle had to take "A Wrinkle in Time" to no less than 26 publishers before it was finally put on the shelves, where as E.L. James of "50 Shades of Gray" fame did not struggle nearly as much. Nearly every bookworm and writer alike will agree on which is the better piece of literature out of the two. 

I have also realized that amateur writers are, in general, assholes. In a field that's inherently subjective and filled with people trying to validate their own intelligence by the level of novel they read or write, you're not truly good until you're better than someone else. There is always that one writer that holds their work to be the masterpiece of their genre or knows the secret way to write the perfect story. I've often had my story summaries put down as "too formulaic". For some reason, length is always included in this assessment. But I would like to point out that Stephanie Meyer's "Twilight" had nearly 500 pages while Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" had less than 150. Ruminate on that.

Growing up, I was more or less recognized as the writer of my family. Other family members may indulge in the hobby, but I was always the one getting all of the journals for Christmas or pictures of t-shirts with the phrase "anything you say can and will be used in my next book" posted on their Facebook page. For most of my years as a minor, I didn't have a giant set of writer friends. Truth be told, I didn't really seek them out. To this day, my only true "writing person" is my friend Stephanie...who has told me that I am the only writing friend she can stand to talk to on the subject as "writers are dicks". 

Now I'm not bragging when I say I'm adept at writing. By the time I was 12, I could write a death scene capable of making my older sister cry. (Yes, Esther, I know he was only 4 years old. But if the heir to the throne didn't die of the plague there would have been no struggle for royal succession) I can make witty statements that make people laugh aloud while their reading and create realistic characters, one of which I had been told was the perfect "lovable douchebag". And this is not without effort. I have been writing poetry since I was 8 or 9 and stories since I was 10 or 11. Admitting that I may need help in the craft I have dedicated literally a decade of my life to is not an admission I make easily. I will say I felt relieved when I read over "common writing mistakes" and realized that those mistakes I did make I was already aware of and working on.

The point of my long rambling post is this: humility is key. It's never really mentioned as a key to success, but it's essential. No one wants to congratulate you on your success when your attitude makes them wish you'd never succeeded in the first place. And no one ever betters themselves by stalwartly refuses to believe there is anything they're not the top in. I'm not writing the next great American novel at 22 years old, I accept that. But knowing that now means I know what to do to shoot for a spot on NYT's bestseller list before 35.  

  

[Insert Limbo Joke Here]

I AM...

...an active person. Not in exercise, obviously, but I like going out and doing things. I'm that weird kid that looks forward to the beginning of the school year because I've been bored since July. So with the still pared back hours at work (and an exorbitant amount of no-call, no-shows, for some reason) and no classes, I am bored out of my mind. The laptop that I used to dream about getting back to when I was at work or class is holding less and less fun for me now. I have gone entire days without leaving the house once (I would try to go swinging more often, but the painfully cold weather is a bit of a drawback). There's no easy way to make plans with friends, because they're all off with busy schedules of school and work. 

I have been keeping up with everything (with one or two days missed in the workout when there was an earlier work shift) but there's not quite the same sense of accomplishment as when I first started. It's become part of the routine to do various things. I sent the revised story to half a dozen people and have not received one comment or bit of feedback. The roads are still ice covered, which makes learning to drive not really an option at this point. It's still too early in the workout, no-soda healthier lifestyle for any noticeable changes. 

Before anyone hops on to comment "keep going!" I'm not on the verge of stopping or slowing down. If I thought these things could be accomplished in a month, I wouldn't have made them as resolutions for the entire year. I'm just annoyed to be in earthly limbo, sort of just existing while I wait for things to happen. I'm not a "Netflix and chill" person. I'm not a "let's hang out" kind of person. I am a "let's take 3 right turns, 2 left turns, then 3 more right turns and see where we end up for the fun of it" person. I want a reason to get out of bed earlier. I want to see more than the inside of my house and place of employment. I want memories to write in my journal and stories to tell my grandchildren. And "I once spent a month binge watching Netflix" does not a good grandmotherly story make.

WARNING: LAZINESS APPROACHETH

Can You Feel It? 

It's coming. It's that time of January. The moment when the dedication begins to waver and the laziness and apathy sets in. It's the "do I REALLY need to do the workout today?" or "what would one soda hurt, I mean really?" It's either the beginning of the end or the moment you start pushing back. 

I will admit to not doing the complete workout some days (an unfortunate side effect of waking up with severe acid reflux) but I haven't given up on that yet. Still haven't touched soda, for which I am grateful. The story is currently in the hands of a variety of editing friends and family. Admittedly, I haven't done much reading (the author of the book I chose to do next was the first book of an academic and it shows). 

In order to make sure I don't slow down, I'm going to try a couple different tactics. Firstly, imagination. Imagining that moment when I can buy a pair of pants one size smaller. Or my reaction when I receive that magical email saying the agent loved my book and I'm going to be published. Or jamming out in a car by myself as I drive down the highway. Or casually saying in conversation "Les Mis really is better in the original French". (Learning French may not be one of my official resolutions, but really how awesome would it be to say that and mean it?) 

The second trick I'm trying are deadlines. I gave myself the deadline to reread and edit the entire story in 5 days by taking around 25 pages a day and that worked out well. The next step would be to format the story for a novel (the snobbish writing sites all say that Microsoft Word is horrible for it, but not everyone can afford some weird, little known software so pbth) and get to reading. 

Thirdly/Lastly, my trick is to put things in my daily schedule. For example, I do the workouts first thing in the morning before I do anything else (followed by a showed for obvious reasons). But I also need to get in the habit of reading for an hour or so (maybe less when my work hours are increased) to stay on top of the reading challenge. 

More than anything, the trick is to fight the apathy. I didn't get my degree (oh, did I mention I have my degree now?) through apathy. I don't keep my job through apathy. And I'm not going to accomplish anything else through it either. Relient K was right: apathy's a pathetic way to be. 

Margaret's Laws

I have discovered the trick...

...to being productive all day. And the trick is to be productive the minute you get up. Now I know that sounds stupidly simple, or even redundant, but hear me out. As opposed to a lazy morning, wherein I tell myself I'll do the things I need to do after lunch, I start right away in the morning. So rather than having spent the morning doing nothing, by lunch I've already done my workout, gotten a shower, and put away the laundry. Then at lunch comes a break and by the time an hour's gone by I'm already antsy to get up and do more stuff, hence why my room was clean, vacuumed, with windows washed (on the inside, I'm not in the mood to hang outside the house) by 2 pm. 

Whilst dwelling on the doings of the day, I have come up with a theory that I call "Margaret's Laws of Productivity".

Law 1:  The greatest obstacle to being productive is beginning. 

Law 2: Once productive habits begin, they are easier to continue 

Law 3: Leisurely activities become sweeter when performed after productive activities

I'm not quite sure why the third law is. Perhaps it's the comparison of busy and working versus not that makes doing nothing of importance feel that much nicer. Or it's the feeling of justification, like you feel you've earned the right to browse the web for an hour because you spent the last two cleaning your house. Either way, my laptop never looks nicer than it does after an 8 hour shift. 

So my advice, to anyone that cares to read it, would be to never let yourself pause for too long. Monday's only difficult because Sunday was so easy. And getting up early only becomes harder when you've been sleeping in late. A day or two of rest is nice, but there's a reason muscles atrophy when they're not in use. If you've started it, keep at it. Keeping it up now will be easier than starting it again later.

Hellish Torture, Valentines Day, and Other Synonyms

Everyone reaches that point...

..in the workout cycle. A decent amount of time has passed between the beginning and now. You've become accustomed to feeling sore. You rejoice how you feel a little less sore every time you do that last sit up or push up. A minute planking is now slightly less of a hellish torture designed to make you question your life choices. And while you know in your head that it's still too soon for any noticeable, visible change, you have to make sure to look in the mirror often...just in case. 

But the beauty of having multiple resolutions is I always have something to work on when I don't feel like I'm progressing enough in one. For example, I've already completed one of the books for the reading challenge (Ms. Austen, huge fan of your work, but I would have vastly preferred a word by word account of Henry Tilney's proclamation of love than a vague overview). My little time travel story has been fully edited once over (now I have only to do that like 5 more times before I'm satisfied). And not a drop of soda has passed my lips yet, which makes this about the longest I've gone without soda since I was first introduced to it. On a sidenote, did you know KoolAid made drink flavors without sugar, calories, or aspartame? It's beautiful. 

I will admit a bit of fear as everyone else is getting on with their new years resolutions. I've never really had one before, at least not when I was so dedicated to, so I don't know what it'll be like trying to hang on to them when other people start ditching theirs. Our culture seems to ingrain a fear of rising above the crowd. Mentions of beauty are met with a shrug, if not a loud "no, I'm not". To have high grades is to be the teacher's pet. And in everything, to laud your own accomplishments is to be arrogant. I can remember being a senior in highschool, listening to everyone discuss how "bullshit" the ACT was, talking about their "stupid" 22s or 23s. And I was sitting there awkwardly, keeping my 28 to myself. Why? Because by 17 I'd already learned that it was social suicide to admit being smarter than your friends.

But why can't we have our little London Tipton "yay me!!" moments? Why can't we clap our hands like 5 year olds and grin when we've done something well? Why can't we look in the mirror and think "bitch, I'm fabulous"?  Just because I am 22 does not mean that I do not want my goddamn gold stars (which, at the moment, come in the forms of trumpet sounds in the Duolingo language app). If you are really working toward something and you achieve it, you should be allowed a "go me!" moment. We can't focus on being so comforting to people failing that we convince others they should never try to succeed.

And I will keep telling myself that, when I'm one of the few people still talking about their resolutions after Valentines Day.   

2016

The First of the Year Has Arrived

And my abdomen despises me. Also, if I may warn you, dear reader, that I have begun my reading challenge with a beloved Jane Austen novel. It is a universal truth widely acknowledged that when Margaret begins reading one of her Regency era idol's works, she begins to take on the tenor of the text. While Catherine may be navigating the foibles of the unappealing gentleman Mr. Thorpe, Margaret will be struggling to remember what century she is in. And I ask, kind reader, that you grant me this eccentricity. 

Today there was not much working out to be done beyond swinging. Anyone who knows me will understand that I am unmarried and have little to no experience in partners dancing. But the swinging I refer to is literally on a swingset. Like I am 5. Because in my heart, I am. It's fairly active, judging by the way my already sore muscles were protesting even further and a little part of me felt like sitting down and never getting up again. Plus trudging through the snow piled on the playground was a workout in itself. Beyond that I found some yoga poses online that can alleviate soreness in your torso (turns out the activity has more to offer than just attractively tight pants) so I can go back to crunches and pushups tomorrow. May Zeus bless me with a better sports bra by then. 

I will admit some longing for soda today. I shouldn't be lamenting the lack of variety in the drink flavors I found, as I only drank one kind of soda primarily. Although in my defense, it has 23 flavors in it. But I pushed away the temptation for another day. 

I also kept up with the editing today and I realized I struggle with one major continuity error: character descriptions. At one point the horny villainess was platinum blonde when the rest of the story she's written to be a "raven-haired beauty". And apparently I don't believe in telling the reader the color of characters' eyes so I never remember what color I originally intended.  This is why I have "THE BINDER OF LITERARY AWESOMENESS" (bought at Target and decorated by yours truly) to keep these sorts of notes in. I'm just all kinds of organized. 

*hold for laughter* 

In the end, I am looking forward to this new year. Unlike the hashtag that I so stalwartly defended in the last post, I don't intend on being a "new me". But I will be a better one.