dream

I'm not someone who normally gets afraid.

I mean, once in awhile, when the house is dark and it's the middle of the night and rockstar hubby is at the firehall and I'm woken by a loud crash, yah, I freak out a little. Of course, half the time it was a noise I heard in my dream, but you can never tell.

And sometimes I get...nervous tension about meeting someone, speaking in public (if it's not acting, I sweat baby), discussing my feelings on a subject (hence, downward eyes and red face during bible study at 'sharing' time).

But tonight, I'm afraid.

Make that, terrified.

I need to contact the person who wanted my manuscript three months ago.

I need to contact them to get an update. It's been three months. She showed an interest, but with all of the layoffs and recession etc... what if she says no?

I know the world won't end.
I know there will be others.
But this was a genuine interest. And I'm terrified of a no.

This is my dream.

Is it time to come true?

I'm afraid the brave little girl has gone running to dive under the covers on her cloud. To hide. To not face the world. To wait until she feels better.

Maybe I'm insane...

First of all, I am so not dissing my life. I love my life. I love my family. I love where I am, what I'm doing and where we're going. Together.

But sometimes a tiny little voice speaks up inside of me.

I was meant for more.

I was meant to do more.

I feel like a little fish...waiting to get through all the crap to get into the bigger pond...does that even make sense?

Maybe I'm just freakin' about my book. Havent' heard anything yet. Waiting, waiting, waiting to send an email. And what am I supposed to say? Hi, sorry about the recession. You've had my book for three months now, anything new?

But what if she says no? What if she says, 'sorry, not good enough'. What if it's a big, resounding no?

I'm going to bed.

another blog on nightmares

i normally like my dreams. they are vivid and real and wonderful, if not strange.

last night, they were not wonderful, but instead vivid and real and very strange. i had two nightmares. and they were awful.

in the first, which woke me at 5:17am, i was being raped. in my own bed. i was fumbling desperately for the vicks vaporub to smear it into his eyes. and when it did nothing, i woke up.

in the second, i was in africa with my church. the ladies were all sitting at the front because we were supposed to sing. but i had taken a benadryll because i was very stuffy. so i snuck out to get some water because my throat was so dry. i ended up in a market. i finally found some bottled water and i looked at the time, which was noon, and i had to hurry back. as i was running back, i was being chased. three african men (not really african, they were just living there) began chasing me because they wanted me for something. i was running so fast i began to fly. i normally love my flying dreams because they give me great joy and peace as i fly. but this time i was flying to get away. and they kept jumping up to catch me. they just had to grab my ankle and then i was captured. they caught my ankle. i woke up at 7am.

these can stop now.

So why am I sad?

It's been staring at me for two years.

It's whiteness has turned dusty and gray from not being cleaned.

And I don't care.

Rockstar Hubby and I discussed it on the way back from Syracuse.

"Do you really think it's time?" he asked me. I just stared out the car window at the trees flying by, their drab branches just begging for leaves. My straw had already split from me chewing on it. I shrugged my shoulders, not really trusting my answer.
"Maybe something will happen if we do." I paused and stirred my ice. "But then again, maybe not."
He didn't say anything. He squeezed my knee and didn't say what I know he wanted to say, because it would be the same arguement all over again, with the same answer again of 'I don't know'.

I've decided.
It's done.
I'm not changing my mind.

We're getting rid of the crib and changetable.

2 blogs in 1 day??

so I'm attempting to do this 'practicing my writing' thing and i'm following along with Fiction Writer's Workshop and doing the exercises. i've decided to post what i write, regardless of whether it's good, or crap. i haven't done it yet today, but am posting last week's writing assignment. i'm supposed to be doing this daily. oops.

write about one your first memories, then expand:

"Her sandy ringlets were tucked into two loose pig-tails, fastened with big blue baubles. Little drops of the ocean fell onto her shoulders, staining her favourite blue hoodie. Her red bathing suit peeked out as she squatted on the beach, her tanned legs fringed with fine pubescence. Chipped pink toenails peeked in and out of the wet sand as the gray tide tickled her repeatedly with each soft wave. The wind picked up slightly, brushing a faint salt smell across her freckled nose, the fine sand dusting her eyelashes as she squinted. A large luminescent blue man o'war lay heavily in the sand, its dark blue veins pulsing menacingly as she watched it just two feet away. Its long skinny tail refused to be covered by the sand. It reminded her of a rat's tail, but she had yet to see one. The screeching gulls flew further away into the shadowed sun. She heard her name being called. Her ringlets trembled as she looked up. She stood slowly, rubbing her right eye with a dirty fist, and with a quick backwards glance, headed back to her grandmother's trailer."

a little behind

on the blogs...
but i didn't want to write anything that wasn't worthwhile reading, but then i realized that i am not so much writing for others (if my blog is read at all?) but for me.
look, see? i had to start a new day with a new paragraph. yeesh.

so our homegroup is starting 'The Love Dare'. yes, that's the devotional that kirk cameron did in 'fireproof'. and i'm a little wary of it, because i opened the book to check out a few pages and it seemed a bit cheesy. but we're doing it. today is day one. would you believe it's on patience?

as i sigh, i realize and of course you realize that i am not the most patient person in the world. i know that. i know i need to work on that. but it did mention just keeping your mouth shut instead of answering your spouse in a bad tone or nasty words. 'yes rockstar hubby, there is ketchup in the fridge, you just have to look for it'. we all know that men don't like looking in the fridge. actually i don't think they like looking for anything, which is why we all need a photographic memory to remind them where to look, (your wallet is under the red book, sitting beside the stack of papers, ontop of the desk in the basement that has the computer on it). i am pleased to brag however, that the gaffer seems to be developing my memory, but uses it to ask insane questions; "mommy, remember when the red one fell and you laughed, but then daisy picked it up and brought it over and we had to put it back?" er...i think i'm working for amanda priestly. and yes, i brag here saying, i do know what he's talking about. thank goodness my memory cells came back, because as soon i was knocked up, they disappeared. couldn't tell you where they went, i don't remember.

in other news: our fabulous child has an addiction to wolverine. no, he doesn't watch x-men, he's not allowed. he's four for goodness sakes. don't even get me started on how his cousin, who is 6, is allowed to watch tete-a-claque, batman (yes the new dark knight movies) and nightmare on elm street. but he now has a batmobile, sorry, the wolverine mobile, a tiny wolverine character who can, for some reason, turn his upper torso 360 degrees, and a new helmet. RSH and i were shopping on our date (my favourite thing to do, other than eating, but we did that later) and we found an insane sale on ski helmets at sports experts, where we found a helmet for the gaffer that was regular 109$ for 30$. it was camouflage and it looked exactly like a soldier's helmet. of course he bought it. so the gaffer wears it constantly and i'm to call him 'wolverine costume boy' when he does. we had a long conversation about how i would call him that, but only at home.

in other, other news: mom in law was in the hospital for some kind of chest pain attack. i don't know what the doctors will say, but it brings up the whole, 'building another house to live with the in-law thing' and while i don't mind at all, yes, it is freaking me out a little....

words not said

i don't know if it's lack of backbone or trying to keep the peace, or trying not to control the situation which prevents me from saying a lot. and i know i say a lot already, but i don't say much that involves what i'm thinking or feeling. which doesn't make much sense, but it makes sense to me. so i've decided to get a few things of my chest without being specific or using any details whatsoever.

-it makes me feel unimportant when you don't call
-i think you are a very selfish person who is completely out of touch with everyone else
-i wish you could have been more excited for me
-i can't believe we are arguing about this, especially after all we've been through
-i wish you would think of the rest of us before you act
-i wish you would thank her more
-i wish you'd stop taking advantage of her
-i wish you had really been listening when i opened my heart to you
-you are incredibly interesting but i seriously don't want to be your friend
-how many times do i have to show you the truth? you are sucking the life out of me!
-why can't you stand up to her?
-why can't you just say 'good job'
-why do you lie so much?
-i wish you'd just do what is right
-it's not that i don't want to spend time with you, it's just i have no time and you are not on the priority list
-please, please be careful
-i really, really don't want a relationship with you
-i'm not a flake you know. i'm just ridiculously fun.

ok, i feel better. ish.