The Songs Stuck in My Head

I still haven't finished that song.

Actually, it's more like four or five songs. A few weeks ago I sat down to collect and organize all of the bits and pieces I had accrued over the past year or more. I ended up arranging them a tack board (see the picture above) in hopes that if I had something visual to off of which to work I might have more success.

It didn't work, and I'm still where I was weeks ago.

For some reason, the words aren't falling into place. It's rather frustrating. But I'll try again and again until they do.

Mom and Dad took their missionary training this past week. We're now working on putting together our presentation, which includes a video. Mom commented yesterday that she wants me to write a song for Heather to sing at some point during the video.

I'm sure the song we could use is someone in that jumble of words on my tack board. If only I could find it.

I've always balked at forceful creativity in the past. Mostly from stubborn foolishness. I don't have an honestly decent reason. Lately I've been trying to train the creative part of my brain to work whenever, not just when I feel like it. I suppose this is a great opportunity to teach myself to just be creative at will.

It might sound silly, I know, but I used to think that I could only turn out something creative if I was in the mood and "felt inspired". I'm learning that all it takes is sitting down and doing it and I can usually find the creative mood in the process.

I have a favorite quote by Frank Tibolt: "Action always generates inspiration. Inspiration seldom generates action."

So I'll force myself to take action and finally get these songs out of my head and onto the page. Hopefully I'll soon be able to post them.

In other news, we have revival meetings at church this week. If yesterday is any indication, it's going to be a fantastic week. Also, because of meetings, we don't have Bible study or Institute, which means I get an extra week to study for the biweekly test we have in Ephesians class.

I know it's a short post, but I can't think of anything else to talk about at the moment. I guess I'll stop here.

A Day in the Life: Thursday

It's Friday now, but it was too late to post this last night when I finished it.

I'm writing this from my new phone! I feel so special.
Anyway, I decided a while ago while contemplating this new blog that I should have certain topics for posts. For example, I've done a few "What I Do" posts about my different hobbies. One of the topics I wanted to try is "A Day in My Life", where I record the events of one whole day. Boring, you think? I'm having fun! (Yeah, I tried the whole swype thing and didn't look back. You were right, Dad.)
So. My day.
I new phone has an option on the alarm clock where I can limit the number of times I can hit snooze or eliminate the option altogether. For my 6:45 alarm for Thursdays, I removed the snooze.Turns out that I didn't really need it anyway, however, because I woke five minutes before it went off.
Pp been struggling with a head cold that has moved into my chest and brought a cough with it. I woke with a groan. Get dressed, eat, play, with my phone, take the dog out, and away we go.
I had missed church last night. They'd had a birthday party, and though they hadn't returned everything to normal, how they'd left it was better in my opinion. We set up tables, and I sat down to do my devotions and writing. I got a call from one of the moms explaining why they wouldn't be here today. She spouted off a lost of instructions and whatnot. At the end, I said, "You do know you're talking to Amber, right?"
She laughed and said she thought I was Mom.
So I returned to this. Heather told me to stop texting. When I informed her I was blogging, she looked at me funny.
The day progressed without incident. Until physical science, I didn't do much. In science, we did two experiments, one of them with fire. 'Twas fun. I couldn't think of any movie references to link to class, so no candy for me. (Mrs. Johnson gives everyone a small piece of candy whenever someone quotes or refers to a science-related movie, because she's just that awesome.)
After that, I ate some yogurt and someone gave me some KFC mac 'n' cheese because it was "too cheesy" for them. Soon, Mom and Dad, who had been working at the church all morning, were ready to go. We dropped Dad off at home, I got changed, and then routes.
Like the past two Thursdays, I bagged everything because it looked like rain, but out didn't until we were done.
We stopped to get the mail, then got the girls and headed home. I didn't do much for a while. Per usual, Jess and Colin came by for a couple of hours just to hang out. Mom made salsa, I made apple crisp, and we sat down to watch a movie.

FedEx: Round Two

This month is shaping up to be "get-a-new-phone" month at our house. First Allenna, then Mom, and now me. I was due for an upgrade and, though I despise the forced SmartPhone charge, I decided I might as well get a new phone. (I need a job.) It was due to come in today. This time I was ready.

I was dressed by 9, knowing FedEx comes between then and 1, and while I sat on my bed writing I kept my eyes open.

Just now, the truck arrived.

I walked downstairs, calling Heather to get the dog. This time she did. Hershey had started to whine at the door, but Heather dragged him off to her room and shut him inside. I stood by the door, watching the truck back up into our driveway. The side door slid open, and I commented, "I think it's the same poor lady we had last time."

Heather said, "Really? Oh, no."

When she knocked, I opened the door with a smile. Yup. Same one. "Hello again!"

"Hi," she answered. "Yeah, I was just thinking, 'They're the ones with that crazy dog who ran away.'"

Ouch. So she didn't forget. I laughed and took that horrid device to sign my name. And once again, my 'o' looked like an 'a'. I hate cursive.

She verified the correct spelling, gave me my package, and walked away with no incident. Much to Hershey's chagrin. (I never cared to correct her that our dog is a he, not a she, as she referred to him on her last visit. I felt some small satisfaction in a stranger mistaking his gender. Haha, dog. Small victories.)

Feeling very satsified with myself, I carried my package upstairs to open it up. Why is it that some people get excited at anything new, no matter what it is? It could be a toaster and I'd still be giddy with excitement. (Though perhaps with good cause, because we haven't had one for a year or more.)

A pamphlet loaded with things about my new phone, a bit of bubble wrap, and a pretty little box. How much money must Verizon spend each year just on the production of their phone boxes?

I open the box. (Yes, I'm seriously writing this as I do it. I'm such a dork, I know, but you love me.) Phone, battery and two pieces for the cord, all wrapped in plastic. Way to draw out the suspense.

Yeah, I'm excited. But I'll stop here so I can focus on playing with my new toy.

I don't have any updates because I've managed to post regularly for the past couple of weeks. Yay me!

Runaway Dogs and Badminton

When it comes to our dog Hershey, there are times I'm convinced that he's determined to be rebellious and simply not learn what we try to teach him.

In the four (five?) years we've had him, we've taught him sit, shake, beg, lay down, roll over, play dead (sort of), crawl, and how to identify certain words. But two things we cannot teach him: how to come when he's called, no matter what he's doing, and how to sit quietly when someone comes to the door.

Today, FedEx came by with a package for which I needed to sign (Mom and Dad being gone). I'd been sitting on my bed in my PJ's, listening to music and happily typing away at my story, when I saw the truck pull up. I dressed in record time, pulling clothes out of the pile on the floor, and darted downstairs. Hershey was whining at the door and the Fed Ex lady was getting ready to leave with the package because I hadn't come quickly enough. Heather poked her head out her bedroom saying she couldn't answer it because it's school hours. I waved away the comment and told her to get the dog. She didn't.

I opened the door and immediately felt stupid because Hershey bolted straight for the FedEx truck, expecting a ride. (He loves car rides.) I was torn between chasing him and attending to the FedEx lady. Allenna appeared in her bright red silk pajamas and took off after the dog, and I signed my name terribly on that little plastic screen. ("Is that R-a or R-o?")

So much for keeping my cool. Allenna dragged Hershey back (thankfully he was too fixated on that car ride that he didn't run off), I told the lady to have a nice day, informed the dog that I currently hate him, and went back upstairs.

They say "Don't sweat the small stuff", but something I hate is looking like an idiot in front of strangers. It's pointless, because I'm sure they probably don't care and will soon forget the weird girl in a neon orange shirt and royal blue striped pants trying to chase a dog and sign for a package at the same time and then breathlessly saying, "Have a nice day", but I still get embarrassed about it.

Ah, well. I'll get over it.

We had an eventful day yesterday. (Whenever I say "eventful day", it usually just means I spent most of it away from the house, FYI.) I've been feeling a bit icky lately, with a sore, scratchy throat and some headaches that are in part because of the head cold thing going around and probably also in part because of allergies and my inability to regularly take medicine. So after 3 hours of being awake for routes and two hours of sleep between that and having to get ready for church, I was feeling rather crummy. Church was pretty normal, which is always good. Then we girls spent the afternoon at our youth pastor's. Heather and I had been commissioned to make the meal for the Sr. High afterglow yesterday night: pizza soup. (It's not as bad as it sounds. Just tomato soup, some spaghetti sauce, pepperoni, and cheese with bread for dipping.)

We walked in like it was home, which is how all of the teens have been taught to treat the youth pastor's house. It's kind of nice. All of the lights in the entry way and upstairs were on and I could hear a TV ringing in one of the boys' rooms, but we didn't see anyone. I called out, "Hello? Anybody home?" and we thought we heard Ms. Amy answer from her room, but we didn't hear anything else and assumed she'd come out in a minute.

I went outside to greet their horse of a dog named Riley (a fat, simply adorable yellow lab who likes to jump), and then we stood around awkwardly for a few minutes wondering what to do. Then we heard a really weak voice calling out and realized Ms. Amy was waiting for us to come to hear.

No one had told us she was sick with a sinus infection. We found her curled up on her bed with her computer, the curtains pulled and the lights off, barely able to speak. She gave us our instructions: help yourself to the food and feel free to hang out.

Apparently the supplies for supper had yet to be acquired, and Ms. Amy had to get somebody to take us shopping. So we found some munchies and headed outside to play a little badminton (which took me all day to get even partway decent at playing). Then we went shopping, made the soup with only a few small difficulties, and hung out until church.

After church, we headed back to Bro. Mark's for afterglow. There were only about 10 people there, and we had planned on more than twice that many when we bought the food. But it was fun. While the Jr. Highers have organized playtime, we Sr. Highers catch up on our social lives, which usually means crashing in the living room and chatting for the entire event. Sometimes we may toss a ball around while we do this, or maybe pull out some coloring books (seriously), and on occasion a few of us will do something active (like play badminton, which is difficult to do in the dark). That's pretty much how all Sr. High activities go. I like it.

Now it's Monday again. I have a list of things to accomplish, so I should probably get to that.

Visions of Autumn

Is it just me, or does autumn seem to be synonymous with "wishy-washy"? At least in Michigan, the other three seasons can each be defined by a certain picture. Spring is wet and colorful, with a bit of gray slush on the roads and flowers popping up through the snow, as well as the occasional flood; summer is warm and bright and full of activities and adventure; winter is cold and full of snow and the sound of cars spinning on icy roads or of shovels pushing into snowdrifts. However, I can't pin autumn with a stereotype. Every day I look outside and say, "This is the epitome of autumn" and the next day I say, "No, this is". Maybe I'm the one who's wishy-washy.

For example, the last few days have been gray and drizzly and cold. The trees, shifting from vibrant green to warm red and gold, with the backdrop of looming gray clouds, is one image of autumn. But then there are days like today. I stepped outside to check the mail and was greeted with golden sunshine, blue sky, and birdsong. I like this vision of autumn far better, and right now I'm wishing I had a camera so I could capture it.

Autumn is the season where you blink and it's suddenly there. One minute all is green and warm and the next the grass is brown and the trees are red and the fields are gold.

I've never been able to decide which season I like best. Lately, I've heard people say they prefer autumn over the others, but I don't think it's that way for me. I like autumn, sure, but I much prefer watching flowers bloom and crops grow to watching the plants wilt and fade. Mom grimaces at the thought of spring, no matter what time of year we're in, but I think spring is my favorite. (Considering my birthday is right at the beginning, I may be a bit biased, but still.) I like the rain washing away the snow. I like seeing life sprouting up all over the place. I like the first glimpse of warm sunshine on a world returning to color.

I don't know what's put me in such a poetic mood. Maybe it's the fact that I greeted the day early with tea and cinnamon swirl bread. Maybe it's because I finally, really started Book 2 and I'm finally excited about it. Maybe it's because I spent the last hour browsing awesome pictures on 365project.org. (Like this.) I don't know. Anything is better than the mood I was in when I wrote yesterday. (Glad it made you laugh, Grandma.)

I guess I should get back to writing. One page down, too many more to go.

Which season is your favorite? What's your perfect vision of autumn?

Four hours later... (Or: Writer's Block: My Recurring Nightmare)

WARNING: RANT!

I've been dealing with Book 2 for years now. To me, this story is the epitome of writer's block. No matter what I do, I can't find a way to get over it. Once upon a time I actually liked the story, but now I'm scared of it. It's like I'm being haunted.

Whenever I sit down to work on it, I end up with a page full of scribbles or nothing on the page at all. My mind just goes blank.

I've suffered one serious writing slump for a good year or more, and I'm starting to think Book 2 deserves part of the blame. It's cramping my creativity. So I decided recently that I'm not writing anything else until I take care of this frustrating book.

I know. It's bad for a writer to hate what they're writing. Thing is, I hate hating it! But I don't know how to view it except with extreme loathing for all of the trouble it's putting me through.

Maybe it's just that I'm still trying to find my writing style, and my issues with Book 2 stem from the fact that I'm not really sure what needs to be done about it. I don't know.

So last night I decided to see if morning writing could help. If I woke early enough and forced myself to write while still half-asleep and not thinking completely rationally, maybe I could clear some headway so when I finally became coherent I could get some work done.

That plan bombed.

I set my alarm for 6:30 and woke to find myself too tired to get out of bed, so I reset the alarm for 7. When 7 rolled around, I hit snooze 5 or 6 times before finally rolling out of bed. (Not like this is unusual or anything. I hit snooze a lot.)

Maybe I should have started writing right then, but I didn't. First I took a shower. Then I went to retrieve my computer cord from the girls' room. (My cord is now the only working computer cord between mine and two of my siblings' laptops.)

Of course, Heather had it plugged into the outlet beside her bed. In the wall against which her bed is set. So I had to devise some way to get around her to reach the cord. Meanwhile the dog took my appearance to mean it was time to wake up, and he was begging to go out.

I finally got the cord, started to ignore the dog and felt bad about it, then fed him and took him outside.

Finally, I returned to my room. 8 o'clock now. I started up the computer and pulled out my Bible to do my devotions. That done, I thought to start writing. But distraction after distraction came up.

Now it's 4 hours since I woke up and I haven't made any progress. I wrote a 300-word story for my Word a Day thing I haven't done in forever, but that's as far as I've got creatively speaking. I've checked the mail, eaten a salad, listened to music, stretched, brushed and brushed and brushed my hair, slammed my head on the desk, checked facebook three times, glared at the blank page in my word processor, braided my hair, and written a mini-rant to myself. So I decided to come on here and share my writing woes with you. Don't you love me?

Now Mom's awake and I'm being reminded to take care of the laundry I've been neglected. Just a minute.

....

I'm back. Everything I've read about dealing with writer's block (if that's what I really have) has offered different suggestions on ways to get rid of it, but on two points most of them agree: take a shower and go for a walk. I've already done the shower thing. Maybe I'll take the dog on a walk. Or perhaps I should wash some dishes.

Or maybe I'll just slam my head on the desk again.

However, these things are suggested (except for head slamming) as a way to clear one's head. Considering my mind is already blank, perhaps they'll just serve as outlets for my procrastination. Though I don't think I'll hear any complaints if I procrastinate by washing dishes.

Have I bored you long enough? I'm sorry.

I think my song for the day is "Knee Deep" by the Zac Brown Band:

Wishing I was knee deep in the water somewhere

Got the blue sky breeze and it don't seem fair

Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair

I'm going to go wash some dishes now.

Technological Achievements, Psychological Adjustments, and a Rambling Recap of My Week

I'm feeling particularly technologically savvy today! I finally figured out how to put music on my Nook, all by myself! (Unless you count the various google searches for tips, but I'm not counting that.) Laugh if you will, but it was a feat for me. Nook doesn't read wma (Window's Media Player), which is what all of my music is set to. I could either download some unknown program to convert the music to mp3 format, or I could download iTunes and then magically convert my music through that. (I couldn't just take the CD's and rip them to iTunes because I lost them....)

I tried downloading iTunes months ago, but my computer insisted the process would take at least...58 hours, was it? Yeah. But this time it settled for 15 minutes or so. Silly, fickle machine.

Then I had to change the preferences in iTunes (which I am not all familiar with) and import music from Window's Media. Plug in the Nook, drag the music to the specific file, and viola!

Applaud me or laugh at me, I don't care. That took serious brain power on my part. (And many, many google searches.)

However, with only one CD on my Nook, I'm up to 88% used memory. So until I figure out how much space I have left and how much space a few more CD's would require, I'm stuck listening to the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack over and over (not that I'm complaining, though I long ago memorized it).

So that's the adventure for the day. I know, real exciting.

I think I really do need to do a recap, because last week was an eventful week! I'll try to keep it brief, because I do have a little thought to share after (the thought being in part related to an event of last week).

Well, for one, I've kept busy reading. Friday the 9th I picked up Taliesin (tally-eh-sin), the first book in Stephen Lawhead's Pendragon Cycle (and pronounce Pendragon how you will...). I'm now two-thirds of the way through the third and last book, Arthur. A couple years ago I picked up another of Lawhead's books but didn't get past the first chapter. I'd been eyeing this series for years and finally read them. They're fantastic! Another epic series that I'll be sad to finish. Yes, I've laughed, I've cried, it's moved me, Bob. Thus far, my favorite take on the legends of Arthur. However, I think I read too much too quickly because soon after starting Arthur my brain felt a bit overloaded and I slowed down. Where Merlin took about a day and a half, it's taken me since Wednesday to get this far in Arthur.

Right. Brief.

Well, Wes got a "real" job last week, so until some poor fool takes his paper routes, we're doing them. Even on Sundays. Oh, so horrible. (It may only take 25 minutes, but it's a long 25 minutes.)

Okay. Sunday was the annual Pig Roast picnic. Another adventure. I was nearly killed, but I don't want to relive that experience.

Tuesday was the second week of Institute, Thursday the first day of co-op (around 20 families!). I still haven't really started my own school....

Friday Allenna and I spent the day with Ms. Amy and her boys (all but Zack). We went down (up? over? somewhere) to Houghton Lake, where a lady in our church owns a cabin. She needed Ms. Amy to put some chlorine in her hot tub.

Well, first we ate some giant pieces of steak while they ran their routes, and then grabbed sweet goodies at Wal-Mart to get us through the two-hour drive. When we arrived at the cabin, we pulled out the kayaks and started up the hot tub.

I've said for a while that I'm not really one for any type of craft that moves on water (I'm not really one for large bodies of water in general), but when I tried kayaking a while ago I really enjoyed it, and I was eager to do it again. The lake was calm and the day wasn't too cold. I'm surprised my arms didn't hurt more Saturday with how long I was out there. Allenna joined me for a bit, but mostly she spent her time between searching for stones and shells in the foot-numbingly cold water and the hot tub with the boys.

We were there for probably three hours. We grabbed some pizza (loaded with meat!) and headed home. A beautiful day.

Saturday Mom took us kids and Jessi and Vanna to the Renaissance Festival. Allenna wore my costume dress and I pulled together a decent gypsy costume out of mine and Mom's wardrobes, but none of the others dressed up.

It was a clear, sunny day, neither hot nor cold, and crazy busy at the Faire. It's pretty much all shops (shoppes?) there. No attractions, unless you count the people that come. We saw Vikings (at least I think they were supposed to be Vikings), pirates, the Queen and her court (how many feathers can you fit on one hat?), giant hounds and little dogs in kilts or fairy costumes, ogres, trolls, fairies, a person in a toga, knights, musketeers, a Revolutionary-period reenactment group that some people from our church are a part of, wizards, elves, gypsies, squires, monks.... It's more like an all out historical and fantasy festival, not just Renaissance. But if you want to spend the day people watching, that's the place to go. If you want to spend $70 on a simple skirt you could make for $3, that's definitely the place to go. And while you're there you'll likely trip over someone's sword or get a puff of cigar smoke in your eyes or be graced by a smile from the queen (especially if you have a camera). Maybe one day I'll be able to go dressed totally authentically, but I don't know when that will be.

Yeah, that wasn't brief. Sorry.

Okay! Deep thought of the day. Well, it was from a few days ago, actually. It stemmed from a conversation with Ms. Amy while on our way to the lake. We were talking about the hot air balloon fest going on last weekend and I made the comment that I didn't think anything could get me up in one of those. I mean, come on; when I'm on the ferris wheel I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper like a baby, and that thing's solid.

Ms. Amy agreed that she had a fear of heights, but she said if she ever had the chance of going up in a hot air balloon, she's take it, because who'd want to miss a chance like that for the sake of some fear? She went on to say how she's been forcing herself to get past her fear so it doesn't keep her from having fun.

It got me thinking. I didn't used to be this fearful. I used to ride the high and fast roller coasters with the best of them (being my dad). I loved the thrills. And then one year I got dizzy while trundling up to the top of a roller coaster, and I stopped riding them.

I feel pathetic when I can hardly stand on the second floor balcony of the Lincoln, NE capital building without shaking, and how I almost cried at the thought of riding the elevator to the 15th floor. Don't even get me started on my hysterics display on the high ropes course at the zoo.

I don't appreciate getting lightheaded and dizzy and frozen with fear, but I think a lot of it is in my head. (That or some part of my subconscious is insisting that I need more attention.) Just like my distaste for high bridges and deep water and canoes and kayaks. For the sake of having fun, I once looked past that and went out on the lake in a kayak, and I had fun.

Come next June, ready or not, I'm going to get on a plane and head to Peru. That's got everything I don't like: heights, that stomach-dropping sensation when you say good-bye to the group, and being in something not firmly planted on the ground. I'm thinking I need to take Ms. Amy's advice and start forcing myself to face my fears so I'm not blubbering hysterically when I don't have the choice of stepping off the ride. I want to enjoy myself, and I can't if something so menial as a psychological disorder called unreasonable fear is holding me back. All it takes is some prayer, some deep breathing, and then forgetting about it.

This isn't really how I intended to write this post. I had planned to make some off-hand remark about forcing myself to get over my fears. Ah, well. None of my posts ever go as planned. Sorry if I totally bored you with my self-reprimand there.

Hey! In other news, I'm back to work with Book 2. There's another fear I have to face: the fear of actually looking at the mess I made with the first draft. It's rather embarrassing, but more so when I consider that mess was made back in 2008! Yikes!

Someone slap me.

Once I finally get past this disaster, maybe I'll be able to really write. I'm starting to think my fear of making another mess like Book 2 is what's holding me back when it comes to my creativity.

Whoa! Look at the time! Well, I have to run. Bible study calls!