National Novel Writing Month

This month, as many of you know, is National Novel Writing Month! I’ve decided that despite how busy I am with school, it’s in my best interest to participate.
The writing began yesterday.
And OH! How glorious it felt to write with reckless abandon, letting my words flow freely onto the page!
Blip
I found out what my biggest problem as a writer is, my most challenging roadblock: I’m too much of a perfectionist. Honestly, those first thousand words felt like an anvil to my creative perfectionism. They were flawed! They were messy! They didn’t make sense!
It took all my willpower to refrain from impulsively deleting them and starting over.
Why didn’t I? Believe me, I still want to so badly! But I can’t, and I won’t, because overcoming this debilitating perfectionism is the only way that I can eventually make the work perfect.
So I will write again with beautiful freedom, and continue on to the goal of 50K words, and only then will I edit and fix. No novel starts out perfectly.

For those interested in participating, visit the Nanowrimo website – I promise it will be worth your while!
Happy writing!

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When I Cannot Sleep…

… I blog instead.

Well, this may be a completely new thing. I figured it was worth a try. And since WordPress happens to have this handy iPhone app, I can do it right from my pillow with no hassle or effort whatsoever.
It happens to be 1:20 am here in frozen Saskabush, and I’m in the basement room. My heater is failing at keeping me warm.
Also, since I’m in the basement I get a lot of spider action happening all over my floor. Just recently (12:47 am, in fact) I came into my room to discover a little ball of brown fuzzy with eight legs creeping across my floor. Not as adorable as you may think. I’ve now decided to always have a shoe on my floor, because it was useful in accomplishing the squishiness.
What does this have to do with sleeping? Well, I’m convinced the adrenaline from all the terrible excitement is preventing me from sleeping. That, and I keep wondering if there’s going to be one on my pillow.

While I’m Waiting For The Bus

Sometimes I feel like waiting for the bus is the worst thing in the world. Firstly, it’s almost always late. When it’s not late, it’s early and I miss it that way too. Or I will show up to the stop early in minus forty and it won’t come at all. Those are the days when I want to punch kittens. Not of course that is actually punch a kitten, but I’m sure you understand the level of frustration.
And I grumble to myself “it’s late again!” And curse how unfortunate my life is.
But then I get on the bus and I see someone in a raggedy jacket with a grizzly beard and two toques on, and it’s things like that which make me realize my life isn’t so bad. Yes it’s cold out, yes the bus was late, and it’s inconvenient and ill-organized. But at least I’m not living on it.
Sometimes it takes these moments to make me realize how selfish I can be, and then I feel really ashamed.
I’m very lucky to live in a house and be going to school, and to have all the things I do. Sometimes life just gives us perspective, especially when we need it most.

The Beginning of the End

It seems like it was only a short time ago that I started my University life (in truth, 3 years is actually a short time, but as school goes, it’s lengthy). Now I’m starting my fourth year, and it’s gotten me to thinking about how one year in a life can determine a future.
This year marks a stepping stone for many people I know:Life (NBC TV series)

One of my friends was accepted into the Education program.
Another of my friends was accepted into Optometry.
Yet another will be starting Plumbing in a month.
One has an internship as a student teacher.

My sister is taking the year off to save money to go to Culinary School.
My brother will be graduating high school this year.
I am in my last year of my degree, and will be applying to take my masters.

It’s amazing how somehow this year seems to be so important for so many people. This year is special: it marks the beginning to an end for so many people I know, including myself. How we succeed in this year will determine how our future will unfold. I’m excited to experience it.

 

The Perfection Myth: Why Models Scare the Crap out of Me

Today I received news of a tragic misfortune: my bikini top that I had ordered somehow became unavailable, so I got refunded and am now left with the bottoms (which are, in fact, a final sale. Bastards.)

I considered complaining to the company, but then I thought why bother? It’s not a huge deal, I’ll just be a trendsetter and mismatch (this conclusion reached with the help of some friends – you know who you are). As I was trying on the various tops that would look utterly fabulous with the very boldly patterned bottoms, I couldn’t help but notice a few things about myself in the mirror. There’s the imperfections of my skin, the little bit of excess on my stomach, the speedbumps on my chest that for some reason I never like in a bikini top. And as I was trying to imagine myself differently, I stopped. Instead, I pointed out the things about myself that I liked: my hair, my eyes, my collar bone and bold shoulders. As I did that, I also started to think about how utterly normal I looked. Healthy. Why would I want to be different than that?

Seriously, I recommend that everybody do this on a regular basis: point out what you like about yourself in the mirror.

What a confidence boost!

It scares me how I was almost sucked in to the myth of perfection by comparing myself to pictures I’d seen of perfect looking women. What makes these women seem so perfect to us? The models on television aren’t healthy. They’re starving skeletons of women who are slaves to fashion. A small percentage of the women on magazines actually get their bodies from workouts and healthy eating. Even then, they’re so airbrushed that anything natural looking about them has been erased.

Why do women compare themselves to these impossible people? We are REAL. We live every day. If we have scars, or wrinkles, or extra weight, they are the signs of life. People on billboards aren’t real. We shouldn’t compare ourselves to them. It’s terrifying that we do, and that the future generations will do the same.

If we are healthy, we are perfect.

It’s important to remember that.

DragonVale is Eating My Life

I can’t help myself! The dragons! They’re so cute!

I just got an iPhone and as if playing with it weren’t addicting enough, my sister got me hooked on DragonVale.

It’s bad folks. I check that game once every three and a half minutes to see if maybe – just maybe – while I was away my dragon will have somehow gone from 11.5 hours until hatching to being done. It’s so disappointing when it’s still at 11.5 hours when I check back. Seriously, why make such an addicting game have such a ridiculously long waiting time?

I WANTS MOAR DRAGONZ! Oh Zeus, I need help…

Cute Baby Dragon is Cute

And as if it weren’t bad enough, they have *rare* dragons that are ridiculously difficult to get. So now that you have your collection of dragons, you’re trying your darndest to get those rare ones, and eventually you’re forgetting to eat, you’re setting an alarm for when your dragon is due to hatch at 3:30 am, and you’re starting to look like Gollum from staring at that little LED screen for so long.

Curse you DragonVale!