dedicated :)

here's a little bit of fluff, as found on Trisha's Tripping over my Tongue:

What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Dedicated Reader   You are always trying to find the time to get back to your book. You are convinced that the world would be a much better place if only everyone read more.
Literate Good Citizen
Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm
Fad Reader
Book Snob
Non-Reader
What Kind of Reader Are You? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

one or two questions could have had much better options, but overall it wasn't a quiz that made me feel I'd wasted two minutes of my life.

So, what kind of a reader are you?

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a broken resolution, a new resolve

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for January 2, 2009:

Take a favorite character you have created. Pick a New Year’s Resolution that they truly intended to keep. Now, why did they break it within 24 hours?

[this piece is also my participation in the 1000 words meme, the black&white picture...]

= = = = = = = = =

Sheila groaned and forced her eyes open, despite the bright light beating down on her lids, throbbing, it seemed, in time with the pounding in her head, behind her eyes, just above her right ear. Squinting, she caught sight of Shimbu sprawled on the floor, watching her with sad brown eyes, with new year party paraphernalia making for a blurry buffer between herself and her dog.

Her hungover dog.

Shimbu's eyes continued to watch her woefully as Sheila pulled herself up to a sitting position, again moaning at the thumping of her head's innards even as the room began to spin. "I think I'll just like back down again, Shimbu," she whispered, cringing even at that soft sound.

This time it was bad. Really bad.

There was only one upright bottle of champagne. The others were on the floor, empty. They weren't sitting in pools of their own juices, though. Shimbu had seen to it. She had always seen to it that no open bottle of alcohol would remain upright more than ten minutes, before she took it upon herself to knock it down, knock it over, and proceed to sample the bottle's contents.

At first, it was funny.

Then, it started getting annoying.

A waste of good alcohol, for one. Carl was particularly annoyed about that. And the vet had remarked on Shimbu's liver, the last time Sheila had dragged her for the annual visit. Sheila had looked surprised and puzzled, although inside she had known it was from all that drinking Shimbu insisted on doing.

So her one and only New Year resolution had been to make sure Shimbu would not have access to anymore alcohol.

Then Carl had called, insisting that she host a New Year party at her apartment. It turned out he had planned it with his buddies for months, he just hadn't told her until half an hour before people showed up. "Your apartment has such a great view of the fireworks, Sheila!" he had explained as he rolled a keg into the kitchen, "it's the perfect place for us to ring in the new year."

Sheila had been annoyed at the invasion of her home, yet felt obligated as the forced host to not turn the unwanted guests away. Her solution? Passive-aggressively drown herself in booze - after all, it wasn't her booze, even if it was her apartment getting trashed that night.

So much booze did she imbibe, that she forgot all about Shimbu and the problem of open bottles.

The dog loved parties.

They both did.

And so they both partied.

And now, Shimbu lay there, whining quietly, looking at Sheila with those sad sad eyes.

Sheila closed her eyes, and eased herself onto her back. She would deal with Shimbu later. Right now, she had to get her own self in order. Last night had proven yet again that Carl was bad news.

"Hey Shimbu," she whispered. "We'll start all over today, all right? No more drinking for you, and no more Carl for me. Okay?" Shimbu whined a little louder in response, and crawled to Sheila, licking her hand gently.

A good thing about hitting rock bottom is the only direction left to you is up. And up they went, Sheila and Shimbu. Up they went.

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"Yule" be sorry you read this...!

Faith
Miracle
Whisper
= = =

If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

"God" - Evan Almighty

My spiritual journey is still on its slow trek, moving forward, slowly. I am unable to meditate daily let alone twice a day; sometimes it's only during the Saturday sessions I assist at can I sit and just let go... or try to, anyway. Sometimes, I don't really get anywhere. Often, though, even with thoughts stubbornly going off on tangents in my head, I can feel myself going... deep. I feel energy vibrating on? in? my palms. One hand can usually feel a breeze at the top of my head; the other usually doesn't. I may have found myself in a state of thoughtless awareness occasionally, only to break it by thinking "Oh my, am I there?" LoL!

I did up the ante over the past year, though. From dipping my toes in the water, I suppose I'm now sitting with my legs over the edge of the pool, swishing my feet around in the water. From going week after week to a "beginner level" session, I have instead attended some collective events/ceremonies/rituals (things that I observe and raise an eyebrow at, because for something that's supposed to be beyond religion, it all seems extremely Hindu-based to me!) and have stepped up to assist with the beginner sessions, often times running the session with excellent feedback and compliments from the "veteran" practitioners.

I've been feeling restless lately, however. I wouldn't term it a crisis of faith; I think I just need to move on to a higher level of understanding, of experience. Instead of just observing, I need to question, to clarify, then mull over the answers, then ask some more, to understand.

But there's a lot of noise going on, lots of things going on behind the scenes that I won't get into. I don't think I'm asking for a miracle, yet I wonder if the prayer I whisper is being answered in ways I can't yet recognise, in ways I don't yet understand. You know, like what "God" says in Evan Almighty.

In the end, however, I believe that (God) helps those who help themselves.

So what can I do?
Nourish myself: mind, body and spirit.

Because all that noise? A lot of it involves things well beyond my control. I can worry about it, or I can move beyond it.

I choose beyond.

[sorry for the cryptic nature of this post... I hope you understand I don't want to go into nitty gritty detail of personal stuff... but I still want to let a little out... and no, it's not about my mother this time, LoL!]

p/s: MERRY CHRISTMAS to those who celebrate it. And HAPPY HANUKAH! Not forgetting KWANZAA! And all those other winter solstice festivals too. My wishes to all who celebrate them. Peace.

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better late than never...

... especially when Anita's Pain did make it to the W.O.O.F. Top 5 for the week ending November 21 2008! Ummm, yeah, that was a month ago... due to a variety of misfortunes befalling the coordinator of the contest, we only got to know the results recently... but like I said, better late than never... and I'm glad Rose seems to be back in control and up to speed! *waves!* :)

Here's the official announcement:

Presenting the finest of the writer’s blogs by the bloggers who write them. Highlighting the top 5 posts as chosen by the November 21, 2008 WOOF Contest participants. Sorry for the delay, but we are back up and running! Want in to join the next WOOF? The next contest ends December 26. Submit a link to your best writing post of the last 2 weeks using the form at the bottom of this page.

WOOF Contest – Top 5 Picks:

About Writing

• Writing Nag – “Stop Talking and Begin Doing” - Why write daily? Start today and be inspired by the creative people in your life. Includes collaborative poem.


• Kimota - “Resisting Extravagant Verbosity” - The arguments for clear writing and against pretension and long words.

Fiction / Blog Science Fiction / Short Story

• Rosey Haze - “Mute” - What?


• Jenn - “The Sentence” - Two women experience a common reaction to a tragedy that impacts both of their lives.

Poetry

• ~willow~ - “NaNo: Anita's pain” - ... dissatisfied with how I had glossed over the backstory of one of my NaNo characters, I decided to revisit a scene using poetry; Anita's Pain is the result.

Brought to you by PlotDog Press with the Serial Suspense Screenplay "Intervention"

Other WOOF Contestants for 11/21/08

Prose / Opinion / Non Fiction Rant

• Jessica – “Insignificant Significance In Theory: The Feminist Philosophy Student (A Parody)” - A discussion about feminist philosophy.


• Mike Fried - “Ubiquity in My Town (with apologies to J. Joyce)” - The author's fascination with people's fascinations about Blackberries.

Poetry

• Kat Sanders - “Friendship” - A letter to my friends; past, present and future.


• Robert Bourne - “One Year” - A Poem to the one who came in to my life and brought light.


• Dragon Blogger - “The Pretender” - Random Twitter poem was inspired by the TV Show “The Pretender”.


• Dragon Blogger - “Seeds of Darkness” - Poetry about the darkness that lives in some of us.


• Dragon Blogger - “Lies” - Poem about Lies and Deceit.


• Dragon Blogger - “Random Haikus” - A collection of Random Haiku's in one post.


• Dragon Blogger - “A Flash” - Poem about reflecting on meeting the woman of your dreams.


• Jennifer M Scott - “Sky Crystals” - A poem about romance while the snow is falling.


• Jennifer M Scott - “Belated Love” - A poem written to a man about not giving up on finding love.


• Jennifer M Scott - “Halos in Darkness” - Avant gard poem about loneliness and darkness.


• Dragon Blogger - “Coming Out Of Your Cocoon” - Poem about transformation and starting life anew.

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a terrible "hesitate, neglect, jealous" present!

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for December 19, 2008:

Write a short scene, with exactly two characters that involves a terrible Christmas (or similar holiday) present.
= = = = = = = = =
Hesitate
Jealous
Neglect

= = = = = = = = =

S: Don't think I didn't see you hesitate, Carl.

C: Huh?

S: I said, don't think I didn't see you pause and think about your answer, even if it was just for a split second, before saying that you liked the present.

C: Well, you know I'd rather not fight on Christmas...

S: Why do you always assume we're going to fight if you have something that you think contradicts what I like, what I want, what I think?

C: See? It's starting already.

S: No, it's not.

C: Yes, it is.

Carl and Sheila glared at each other over the ripped wrappers scattered over the floor, dancing firelight making their eyes glisten and groove to the 70's disco music playing in the background.

He looked away first.

C: All right. I don't like what you gave me. I really don't.

S: Oh? Why not? I thought you liked Star Wars, or did you neglect to inform me of such a fundamental change to your being, to your definition of what and who you are?

C: There, see? So much anger? I can't swim for all that sarcasm!

S: Whatever. Just tell me. Why don't you like what I got you?

C: I. Am. A. Fan. Of. The. REAL. Star Wars. Not the crap George Lucas has churned out recently. You know that. How often have I bemoaned George's actions, how often have a longed to rip him a new one, to do to him what he's done to what so many of us consider sacred?

S: You feel that way? Really? I don't think I knew.

C: That worries me. You don't listen, do you?

S: What? Sorry, I wasn't listening.

C: Oh, har har, very funny.

S: Okay, seriously? I've heard you rant, yes, but I never really thought you meant it. You do have this tendency of talking out of your behind, you know.

C: Okay, I don't deny that.

S: And according to the guy at the shop, folks would be jealous of you having it.

C: Hah! He took you for a ride, that one. No one would buy it, that's why. He wanted to get rid of it. I assume there's a no returns policy?

S: I'll have to look at the receipt...

C: No need to look ashamed, Sheila. He conned you. And I appreciate that you were trying to get me something from the world I wish we lived in, I really do... but really... A full body Jar-Jar Binks costume? With built-in phrases from the movie shrieked out at the press of a button? I hate him. With all my heart and soul, I totally absolutely loathe him. Why are you smiling?

S: Now that I've gotten you to admit that, it's time for the second part of your present.

C: Second half?

S: Second half. You didn't pay attention to the pair of scissors that were attached to the present.

C: I saw it, but I didn't think anything of it. Why?

S: Your present is not the Jar-jar Binks full body outfit. Your present is to cut a piece of Jar-Jar Binks off every day, and throw it into the fire. Sure, it'll stink up the apartment a little, but I think I'd rather enjoy the aroma of the charred remains of the most irritating creature ever created. Wouldn't you?

Carl and Sheila stared lovingly at each other over the ripped wrappers scattered over the floor, dancing firelight making their eyes glisten and groove to the 70's disco music playing in the background.

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mother-heavy

Why the recent mother-heavy posts lately?

Well, recently, my parents turned into grandparents. There were things my sister-in-law let slip in e-mails or IMs about my parents' behaviour, especially my mother's, relating to their new granddaughter, that set off this amazing roar of anger, resentment, and yes, a touch of jealousy, boiling inside me.

You see, my mother seems to be totally in love with the kid, can't bear to let her out of her arms, and so misses the kid now that my niece is back with her parents in Europe that she has already visited my brother and family once since their return to Europe, and already plans on going back again early next year.

I know, a grandkid is totally different from your own kid. All that baggage that my mother had relating to my brother and myself, it's all not there with the little one. So she's "free" to lavish unconditional love unto the young one, something that she didn't do with us.

And that is what brings out that surge of anger, resentment with a touch of jealousy.

Why could she not be that way with her own children???

Again: I know, a grandchild is totally different from one's own child.

But still...

And no, I am NOT happy with myself for the swirling emotions I get when I am reminded of my mother's total obvious love for her granddaughter. I should be above that... but I'm not. Not yet. The silver lining to this is, I am not totally caught up by the emotions: I am often able to just be an observer, just watching the emotions swirl within me. I am not their slave.

Unfortunately, I am not their master either.

I am thankful that I am halfway across the world from my parents, physically. I need to work this out of me totally before I see them again. I don't want to spoil it for them. I don't want to come across as someone jealous, resentful, of her parents' joy of having a granddaughter. And I certainly do not want to precipitate a confrontation about the niece/own child disparity with them.

It's not something worth pursuing, not with them.
I need to come to terms with it myself.
It's all internal.
It's all about forgiving them.
Forgiving myself.
Letting go.

And being happy for them, that they can actually unlock their hearts, melt their hearts, open their hearts at all; that they are actually capable of expressing love at all!

~sigh~

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the cracked windshield

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for December 12, 2008:

Tell us the story behind this picture.

Broken Windshield.,
originally uploaded by Rich Anderson

= = = = = = = = =


Sheila opened her eyes. Okay, this is not good, she thought. Either it's pitch black outside, or I'm blind. She shut her eyes, and turned her attention inward. Are you okay, toes? She could wiggle them. That was good. She clenched her calf muscles, then her thigh muscles. Trying to bend her legs to check on her knees, she realised she must be in a sitting position - she was now aware of some pressure along the back of her thighs, her bottom, her back... Of course! she smiled to herself. I'm in the seat of the car! She felt a lot more positive now that she knew where she was. She still had no idea what had just happened, so she continued with her internal body check. Abs, check! Fingers, check! Shoulders, check! And on she went, checking up to her eyelids again, flicking them open and closing them immediately in response to the bright light. Phew! I'm not blind! She smiled again. She had felt no pain throughout her little exercise, and was therefore confident that, whatever had happened, she herself was in one piece. Time to figure out what the heck happened, she muttered to herself as she scrunched her eyes up, opening them just a slit to let in just a little bit of light, as she brought her hands up to shield her eyes and face.

The spiderweb cracks leaped into her vision, and she gasped. Memories came tumbling back. She looked out, and saw snow everywhere, a thick blanket on the ground, on the road, and still coming down heavily. With shaking hands, Sheila reached for the ignition - yes, the keys were still there. She looked down to her right, and shifted the gear back into neutral with the cooperation of her left foot on the clutch. She turned the key. The engine started immediately.

She hadn't realised she had been holding her breath, until she let it out in a large sigh that expelled clouds of condensation into the air, threatening to fog up the broken windshield. She shifted into gear one and gingerly eased off the clutch, and the car obligingly moved slowly forward. That'll teach me to NOT slam on the brakes when the roads are icy, she said to herself. Then she paused. Why had she hit the brakes? A growl of anger escaped her lips as she worked through her fuzzy memories. She glanced back, and saw overhead bridge. Something had fallen? been dropped? onto her car just as she was passing under it.

That windshield isn't cracked because of my donuts. It caused my donuts!

She had already pulled away from the scene, however, and had no intention of turning around, especially in this weather. There was a gas station just a little bit further down the road. She would stop there, and in safety, check her car, call the insurance folks, the police, and Carl. In that order.

Paul the attendant smiled as he watched the green Ford Escort limp into the gas station. "Accident out by the bridge? Darned weather, you're the fifth one today, ma'am," he declared as Sheila smiled wanly, clambering out of the car and into the warmth of the 24-hour mini mart and gas station. As she made her calls, Paul radioed his partner: "That's enough for one day, Roy. Don't want to push our luck now, do we?"

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