Soundtrack.
Tuesday night a volunteer (with a pretty voice) from my university's Alumni office called to check up on my productive life. I felt embarrassed by instinct, as one who self-consciously calls herself a bum.
A bum in the fact that I'm 23 years old and have yet to rent a room of my own, drive on the interstate without a fire-breathing driving instructor, or have a desk with my name on it, or at least my own stack of Post-its.
However, this Pirate who Doesn't Do Anything has been busy lately.
I've published three articles on Examiner.com, one on Howcast. Six stories and my name are being printed or typed into six different creative publications, two of which are up to read. I'm excited about my free contributor's copy for Relief which hits the press in Febuary.
Plus! David and I polished off our song, "Surprise Paper Bag", last Sunday and he wants to preform it at Paramount!
I'm not bragging on myself. One fact of proof is that these are not monumental accomplishments and I have a long way to go. Secondly, because I know something about myself that you may not. I am so small.
I brag in God as a little girl who couldn't leave her house or mother a few years ago. As one who entertained thoughts of giving up. As one who probably will take antipsychotics for the rest of my life. As one who knows just how much I need help and strength from the Lord.
I'm a wallpaper baby, not able to join the game of musical chairs for the sticky glue on my back, unless my hand is gripped by an able and loving friend.
Yes, I'm small, but I'm growing! Growing, growing, I'm growing.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
To hear them one must be calm... for their wingbeats are barely audible
My review of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly was published today on Examiner.com.
I always feel as if I'm holding up a sign that says "Click if You Love Me" ... Instead of Honk if You Love Me.
But, I'm a writer; I need to get used to living like a homeless person. So here I am in my little coat and hunting-orange hat with my carboard sign that says: Charity, This is How I Eat.
I'm a beggar who gives, though. Here's something to listen to while you read my review.
I always feel as if I'm holding up a sign that says "Click if You Love Me" ... Instead of Honk if You Love Me.
But, I'm a writer; I need to get used to living like a homeless person. So here I am in my little coat and hunting-orange hat with my carboard sign that says: Charity, This is How I Eat.
I'm a beggar who gives, though. Here's something to listen to while you read my review.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
This game makes my tongue quite lame, sir!
Watch this quick, slick, trick with Seuss's tongue nooses with no truces!
Xin Yan, a tongue-happy young girl, speed reads Dr. Seuss's most twisty verses in Fox in Socks. The crowd is flipping out, so you have to listen fast!
You'll find your tongue tries to trail, but try not to bite it!
I can't even read this slowly without slobbering all over myself.
Xin Yan, a tongue-happy young girl, speed reads Dr. Seuss's most twisty verses in Fox in Socks. The crowd is flipping out, so you have to listen fast!
You'll find your tongue tries to trail, but try not to bite it!
I can't even read this slowly without slobbering all over myself.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Our Own Myths, which taste like sour gummy worms
Soundtrack by Paul Macefiled (Love this song!!!)
I remember as a child, toddling around with spoons of Fruity Pebbles, my brother and I made up magic. The red fruity flakes, if you eat them, you fall in love with the first thing you see. We probably swiped this from an Aladdin episode (remember the TV series?) or some other show we watched.
We spent breakfast "falling in love" with items around the room.
Right now, I'm actually in love with a food processor I lost, and imagining the Oreos and vanilla ice cream I used to whip up on slow afternoons.
I also remember a necklace I got from Bingo at the nursing home my dad ran. The charm was the size of my palm, I thought it was too big. It was just from another time. An oval turquoise stone encircled by braided metal on a chain.
It transported me to the Land of the Black Sand, where I was an acrobatic "street rat", which I definitely stole from Aladdin.
I've traded in my curls and 101 Dalmatians pants but I still find myself with a palmful of myths. The most abundant of these are Happy Token myths.
Happy tokens are little things you find that make that moment special. For instance, coins run flat by a train are happy tokens, as is a piece of hair (or any other thing) in the shape of a heart, or a splatter of paint that looks like a little girl with duck hair, you know, that old cutesy haircut a lot of Precious Moments girls have, or if there are an usual number of blue/pink gummy worms in the box.
Which means, you can make a wish.
David and my favorite little legend is, if you find an eyelash on your true love, you can make a wish, and blow, it will come true.
Do you have one? Something that feels special that you stumble upon in life? Leave me a comment so I can join in on the happiness.
I remember as a child, toddling around with spoons of Fruity Pebbles, my brother and I made up magic. The red fruity flakes, if you eat them, you fall in love with the first thing you see. We probably swiped this from an Aladdin episode (remember the TV series?) or some other show we watched.
We spent breakfast "falling in love" with items around the room.
Right now, I'm actually in love with a food processor I lost, and imagining the Oreos and vanilla ice cream I used to whip up on slow afternoons.
I also remember a necklace I got from Bingo at the nursing home my dad ran. The charm was the size of my palm, I thought it was too big. It was just from another time. An oval turquoise stone encircled by braided metal on a chain.
It transported me to the Land of the Black Sand, where I was an acrobatic "street rat", which I definitely stole from Aladdin.
I've traded in my curls and 101 Dalmatians pants but I still find myself with a palmful of myths. The most abundant of these are Happy Token myths.
Happy tokens are little things you find that make that moment special. For instance, coins run flat by a train are happy tokens, as is a piece of hair (or any other thing) in the shape of a heart, or a splatter of paint that looks like a little girl with duck hair, you know, that old cutesy haircut a lot of Precious Moments girls have, or if there are an usual number of blue/pink gummy worms in the box.
Which means, you can make a wish.
David and my favorite little legend is, if you find an eyelash on your true love, you can make a wish, and blow, it will come true.
Do you have one? Something that feels special that you stumble upon in life? Leave me a comment so I can join in on the happiness.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Maybe I should get a Twitter account?
My second article on Examiner.com was published today! According to my stats, I have earned 11 cents - whoo hoo!
I'd like to share with you the joy of reading Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros, so click on the link but also, run out to your library and check out Caramelo! You will not regret it, I promise. It is just as thrilling as going to see movie.
Sandra Cisneros, my herione of writing:
I'd like to share with you the joy of reading Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros, so click on the link but also, run out to your library and check out Caramelo! You will not regret it, I promise. It is just as thrilling as going to see movie.
Sandra Cisneros, my herione of writing:
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Hector and the Search for Happiness and something about a crocodile?
I examine books now... That's a strange sentence to say. So is: Excuse me madam but that crocodile is nibbling the motor; please thwack him on the nose for me so we can carry on with our expedition.
I may or may not be extremely tired right now.
I am Book Examiner for my hometown on Examiner.com and my first article, a book review of Francois Lelord's small novel, Hector and the Search for Happiness, was published today!
No, I won't tell you how the book is. You'll have to read my review! And when you're done, try Hector and the Search for Happiness.
I may or may not be extremely tired right now.
I am Book Examiner for my hometown on Examiner.com and my first article, a book review of Francois Lelord's small novel, Hector and the Search for Happiness, was published today!
No, I won't tell you how the book is. You'll have to read my review! And when you're done, try Hector and the Search for Happiness.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Hope Tied with Spiderwebs
My short, short story "Hope Tied with Spiderwebs" was posted today on Glossolalia's website!
Please, click the link to read it.
Hope you enjoy!
Please, click the link to read it.
Hope you enjoy!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Angry Old Man in the Sky
How many of us view our merciful God like this?:
My David did; and along with him, most who are unsaved and some Christians. Why? And why has God been depicted this way for hundreds of years? (The above picture dates back to the Renaissance, Michelangelo's time.)
"The God of the Old Testament" is often thought of this way. It is a voluminous stumbling block to nonbelievers and one that David had been struggling with the past two months. In the Old Testament God seems a spiteful fuming cloud thundering down on the people. However...
This is man's perception. Think back to the Israelites, or even further. Is this image not one that a sinful race would have? Is it not similar to the view of a scolded child?
For instance, David recently shared a story with me about him and his father.
They were preparing to cross the street. David was a child, rambuctious as any other boy, and he ran out into the road ahead of his father, right in front of a car. His father snatched the collar of his shirt and pulled him back just before the car roared past.
David was a little dazed and frightened. His father stearnly scolded him. As David told me this, it was clear that his father had left an impression he never forgot!
"You're the last thing I'd want to lose," his father said afterwards.
Now when David remembered this, he didn't say: "My dad saved my life!"
He remembered, "My dad yelled at me!"
Aren't we the same?
When God rebuked His children throughout history, they failed to see His urge not to lose them. Instead, they resented and feared God's discipline and very often forgot that He'd given them the rules ahead of time and always warned them before He enacted justice.
God may be angry at your sin, but He is not a vengeful perfectionist, waiting for you to slip up so He can burn you to a crisp.
He just wants to save you.
"The LORD is slow to anger and filled with unfailing love, forgiving every kind of sin and rebellion. But he does not excuse the guilty."
My David did; and along with him, most who are unsaved and some Christians. Why? And why has God been depicted this way for hundreds of years? (The above picture dates back to the Renaissance, Michelangelo's time.)
"The God of the Old Testament" is often thought of this way. It is a voluminous stumbling block to nonbelievers and one that David had been struggling with the past two months. In the Old Testament God seems a spiteful fuming cloud thundering down on the people. However...
This is man's perception. Think back to the Israelites, or even further. Is this image not one that a sinful race would have? Is it not similar to the view of a scolded child?
For instance, David recently shared a story with me about him and his father.
They were preparing to cross the street. David was a child, rambuctious as any other boy, and he ran out into the road ahead of his father, right in front of a car. His father snatched the collar of his shirt and pulled him back just before the car roared past.
David was a little dazed and frightened. His father stearnly scolded him. As David told me this, it was clear that his father had left an impression he never forgot!
"You're the last thing I'd want to lose," his father said afterwards.
Now when David remembered this, he didn't say: "My dad saved my life!"
He remembered, "My dad yelled at me!"
Aren't we the same?
When God rebuked His children throughout history, they failed to see His urge not to lose them. Instead, they resented and feared God's discipline and very often forgot that He'd given them the rules ahead of time and always warned them before He enacted justice.
God may be angry at your sin, but He is not a vengeful perfectionist, waiting for you to slip up so He can burn you to a crisp.
He just wants to save you.
"The LORD is slow to anger and filled with unfailing love, forgiving every kind of sin and rebellion. But he does not excuse the guilty."
Numbers 14:18 (NLT)
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Today Begins My 23rd Year
Yes, today is my birthday.
It's been twenty-three years and two weeks since the Christmas Eve I decided it was too cold to be born. I might add that today is still too cold for my taste. David doesn't seem to mind, but he's a penguin.
And penguins even go out in the snow barefoot. But pandas like me praise God for our big coats. That's why I eat so much.
It's been twenty-three years and two weeks since the Christmas Eve I decided it was too cold to be born. I might add that today is still too cold for my taste. David doesn't seem to mind, but he's a penguin.
And penguins even go out in the snow barefoot. But pandas like me praise God for our big coats. That's why I eat so much.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Eating Cities... Cities Eating.
Today I heard a melody in the drain. Sheathed in showered bliss, the bliss of warm skin after washing, I was toweling off when I heard it. It was jumpy and light. You see, our house is in a virtual earth bowl into which the rain, or in this case, the melted snow, runs. Therefore, our drains are always drowned and clogged. Today, as our bathtub drained, the bathroom sink's pipes bubbled a song. I thought how whimsical God's sense of humor was.
This is a random note I wanted to share. My real news reminds me of the drinking drain. Ironically, on the day I switch from soda pop to a diet of orange juice and water, my review of Darrin Doyle's The Girl Who Ate Kalamazoo was published on Literary Laundry's website.
This is ironic because of the theme of consumption. The Girl who ate Kalamazoo, Audrey Mapes, is a portrait of grotesque consumption. But don't take my word for it.
Please read the review and try to understand my train of thought; meanwhile I'm attempting to write a review of the Japanese film Nobody Knows for my next blog post.
This is a random note I wanted to share. My real news reminds me of the drinking drain. Ironically, on the day I switch from soda pop to a diet of orange juice and water, my review of Darrin Doyle's The Girl Who Ate Kalamazoo was published on Literary Laundry's website.
This is ironic because of the theme of consumption. The Girl who ate Kalamazoo, Audrey Mapes, is a portrait of grotesque consumption. But don't take my word for it.
Please read the review and try to understand my train of thought; meanwhile I'm attempting to write a review of the Japanese film Nobody Knows for my next blog post.
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