I went to pick up my completed taxes this morning. I’ve been going to this place for a long time, and when this receptionist first started, I recognized her. I went to grade school with her for many years, through several different schools. Today was the day I decided to mention that I think I knew her.
No one from grade school or high school would recognize me now. I can pretty much fly under the radar. That’s how I got away with so many years of this woman not knowing who I was. Well, that, and we were not in the same friend group. She was very popular. While I had friends, I was not in the popular group.
She also happened to be the girlfriend of my eighth grade crush. Without exaggeration, this boy was the biggest crush I’ve ever had in my life. It extended into ninth grade, the strength of this crush. I was quite shy, and I never really had the nerve to speak to him. I freaked out anytime he was nearby. Paralyzed like Samantha in Sixteen Candles, every time she saw Jake (and, can you really blame her when he shows up in that red Porsche, girlllllll…).
I sat at the same lunch table as my crush and his girlfriend. We sat a few feet away from each other, yet I had to pretend like I was totally fine on the inside. I specifically remember one day, eating a dessert, and he was staring at me. I looked at him, then looked back at my dessert and continued eating. I am not sure what my face revealed or how many shades of red it was.
My crush was athletic. He was tall and muscular for eighth grade. He wore a San Francisco 49ers starter jacket. And when he and his girlfriend started dating, she began to wear the jacket. Can you feel my teenage angst?
After eighth grade, we went to separate schools. My crush went to a different school and his girlfriend and I went to another. I wasn’t friends with her there either, but I knew of her. In the fall of ninth grade, his JV football team was playing our JV football team and I had to go to the game. I saw him in his uniform and he was oblivious – per usual – as we walked by – me and my friend group.
Something of the allure of eighth grade had gone. The shine of the gold starter jacket had worn off. Separated by schools, and having new experiences in ninth grade, my crush faded. Don’t worry, I got a new one. There was a boy in my English class who was a skater boy, and he was adorable. Unfortunately, he moved away to Georgia in the middle of the year. I really liked him. And he was cool. (Hey, Matt, still wonder from time to time what happened to you, bro.)
Back to 2024 and taxes. I mentioned to the receptionist that I think I knew her in school. She asked me where I went to high school. Same school. I asked her where she went to middle school. Same school. I asked her where she went to grade school. Same school. I asked her where she went to third grade. Same school. I went all the way back to second grade. Same school. She said she was going to look me up in the yearbooks. She has saved them. I have, too. A guy friend of mine wrote in my eighth grade yearbook, “You should’ve asked K. to Homecoming. He probably would’ve said yes.” He didn’t know that did ask him via a friend, because I was too shy to ask directly. And he said no. He said he wasn’t going to the dance. I don’t know if he went or not, because I never did go.
I wonder when she checks her yearbooks if she will realize that I was the girl who had the biggest crush on her boyfriend in eighth grade. I guess I’ll find out next tax season.
I heard my crush didn’t turn out so well. I have not seen him since ninth grade at that football game. Or if I have, I haven’t recognized him. It’s just as well, I like to keep my memories untarnished. Just like that shiny, satin San Francisco 49ers starter jacket.
Are there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time?
Am I being serious? Yes and no.
I’m at a point in my life where I wear my bathrobe to get the mail. I answer to no one but myself. I’m sorry, that’s incorrect: I answer to the cat.
After a lifetime of not making the best decisions, I’ve backed off. What I learned in childhood taught me how to choose the absolute worst partners. Thanks, dad!
After a recent relationship ended, I decided that I would no longer be actively taking applications. It’s not that the job was filled, it’s that we’ve pulled the job off the market due to a poor candidate pool. Time to go within and heal what is wrong so I stop making bad choices.
Besides all that, casual dating is not fun for me. I don’t like it. I would rather get to know one person very well, not know a bunch of people not so well.
I’m thinking of a phrase here. I think it’s a meme. There are several iterations of it. It goes something like, “I like to be alone, but I want someone that I can be alone with who also likes to be alone.”
Yeah, that. And they have to be OK with me wearing my bathrobe to the mailbox. Because I’m not going to stop doing that.
I’ve asked the universe/God to stop sending me the wrong things. I am done with the tests. I get it. I know where I went wrong. Or if I don’t know, I’m working on it. Stop sending me somebody’s dusty ass son, universe. Please and thank you.
Oh, one last thing: I will never give up my writing again for anyone or anything.
The two songs I thought of when I was answering this prompt are: Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri, and The Chain by Fleetwood Mac. Both of these songs are my jams.
Jar of Hearts
I know I can’t take one more step towards you ‘Cause all that’s waiting is regret Don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore You lost the love I loved the most
I learned to live half alive Now you want me one more time
Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ’round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts Tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold From the ice inside your soul So don’t come back for me Who do you think you are?
I hear you’re asking all around If I am anywhere to be found But I have grown too strong To ever fall back in your arms
I’ve learned to live half alive Now you want me one more time
Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ’round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts Tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold From the ice inside your soul So don’t come back for me Who do you think you are?
It took so long just to feel alright Remember how to put back the light in my eyes I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed ‘Cause you broke all your promises And now you’re back You don’t get to get me back
Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ’round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts Tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold From the ice inside your soul So don’t come back for me Don’t come back at all
Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ’round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts Tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold From the ice inside your soul Don’t come back for me Don’t come back at all
Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?
Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies
And if you don’t love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain (never break the chain)
And if you don’t love me now (you don’t love me now) You will never love me again I can still hear you saying (still hear you saying) You would never break the chain (never break the chain)
Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light
And if you don’t love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain (never break the chain)
And if you don’t love me now (you don’t love me now) You will never love me again I can still hear you saying (still hear you saying) You would never break the chain (never break the chain)
And if you don’t love me now (you don’t love me now) You will never love me again I can still hear you saying (still hear you saying) You would never break the chain (never break the chain)
Chain keep us together (running in the shadow) Chain keep us together (running in the shadow) Chain keep us together (running in the shadow) Chain keep us together (running in the shadow) Chain keep us together (running in the shadow) Chain
* in the film Chocolat, Johnny Depp’s character’s favorite chocolate is hot chocolate. But that is a film, and although hot chocolate is delicious, it is not my favorite, and it is not candy. Give me a high-quality 70% or higher dark chocolate, and I am a happy girl. Nothing against Hershey’s, but Special Dark is not special. There’s too much sugar, and it is not smooth. Belgian chocolate is the absolute best.
And as a reminder, cacao pods grow from the trunk of the Theobroma cacao tree, and cocoa comes from the seed inside the pod. Seems that no one can agree if it’s a fruit, vegetable or a nut. Just remember this: it is health food.
Two songs came to mind while I was thinking of a response to this prompt. One was Candy Girl by New Edition – a the happy little bop that I know by heart.
The second song was Under the Milky Way by The Church. This is one of my favorite songs, and it has been since it was released. I am not sure why, but I can get lost in the smoothness of that song. See what I did there? Smoothness? Milky Way?
Have a sweet day, everyone.
Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty, Sound of their breath fades with the light. I think about the loveless fascination, Under the milky way tonight.
Lower the curtain down in Memphis, Lower the curtain down all right. I got no time for private consultation, Under the milky way tonight.
Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find. Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find.
And it’s something quite peculiar, Something shimmering and white. It leads you here despite your destination, Under the Milky Way tonight.
Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find. Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find.
And it’s something quite peculiar, Something shimmering and white. Leads you here despite your destination, Under the Milky Way tonight.
Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find. Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might’ve known what you would find.
As I’m reading through everyone’s responses today, I can’t get over the similarities. Many people need a break from work, their own thoughts, life, winter, health issues, and several other valid, important reasons.
Some people don’t need a break from anything, and that’s wonderful. I’m glad you are in that elevated state of mind.
But I have to tell you. This morning, I was needing a break from every single thing that I could imagine. I had vertigo all night. I have an ear infection, which is getting worse, not better, after taking medication. I have an earlobe infection from an earring, (Ridiculous, since I’ve had this piercing for a long time…) spread to my lymph node. It is excruciatingly painful. My migraine is flared up and angry. I was in tears this morning, not knowing who to ask for help, feeling pretty desolate. I wasn’t sure how to shake it.
But I have work to do. An entire day of work. I had two sick days in the past two weeks, so no more sick days. I sat crying on my floor, thinking this is no way to live. Feeling sorry for myself. It takes a lot of strength to get up off the floor and dry your own tears. Some of the reason I did that was because my cat doesn’t like to see me sad. It upsets her, and she’s almost 16 and doesn’t need to be worried about a human. Another reason I got up was because it’s sunny today. And I remembered that the trees have buds on them. And it’s a clear blue sky and even though I feel alone, I’m not alone. As I read all of your words, I see I am not alone.
When Elmo asked how everybody was doing, and millions of people responded that they weren’t doing very well, I felt that. We all feel that. Millions of us.
Somehow, knowing you’re not alone in what you feel, is comforting.
I also fed the birds and the squirrels. The squirrels try to open the peanut jar if you leave it unattended, which is comical, but naughty.
I tried to find joy in the small things while feeling overwhelmed by the large things.
My doctor is going to give me a new prescription for my infection in my ear and my earlobe. I’ve gotten a little bit of work done. And I hope to go for a walk in the sun.
If you are hurting today, and you need a break, just remember you’re not alone – we’re feeling it too.
My perfect day, from start to finish, was the day I received the first batch of my book in the mail. A close second was doing book signings. The process of writing a novel took much longer than one day, of course, and it wasn’t perfect, but the feeling of handling a solid book that contained words I strung together, was unlike any other feeling previously or since. I could think of other ways to spend a perfect day, but none as profound as this for me, as a lover of words.
I started writing this book in 2003, and the idea formed over a fairly short span of time. I have been a tennis fan since the age of 15, and I am not going to tell you how many years ago that was, but it was approximately 102 years prior to 2003.
When I write, I see images. I see the scene playing out between the characters, where they are, what they’re wearing, their facial expressions, if the air is still or breezy, hot or chilly, and I see it start to finish just as a film or on a real in my brain.
The novel started with a small seed of an idea that turned into an image in my brain. The scene was the end of the book. I hand wrote most of this book in a black, hardbound canvas covered book that was probably meant to be a journal. I have journaled my whole life and I have written my whole life as well, although not for public consumption.
So the image that I saw in my head of the scene, playing out of the end of the novel, I wrote at a feverous pitch, on the first page of my black bound book. I then had to form character names, settings, and all the good stuff that goes along with novel writing. Which I had never done before. I bought books, I researched how to outline, but basically I winged it. I wrote the novel in about three months. The scenes played in my mind, and I was able to extricate the best out of the story that I could. I edited and re-edited the novel. I pitched my manuscript to agents and publishing houses for a full year of my life. I had some interest but never any yeses. Frustrated and emotional as I was, I refused to accept defeat. I decided to self publish. Back in 2005, when I finally got past trying to find a publisher and an agent, self publishing wasn’t as acceptable as it is these days. Nor was it as accessible. It was, however, much more affordable. I chose to use lulu.com, which probably was due to the fact that that was one of the only self publishing houses available at the time. Uploading the novel was a fairly simple process. I chose the cover, the font type, the color of the font, and the cover is from stock image. Formatting the pages was a bit difficult and the first print proof of the book was too many pages, too large of a font, not the right cover, not the right title or font – not the right anything.
So, I went back to the drawing board and finessed it into what it is now. I paid extra for the international ability to sell on Amazon, and once I received the first shipment of books myself, I couldn’t believe that I had done this. I had a book with an ISBN and it was registered at the Library of Congress and it was available for sale on websites. I held this bound grouping of words in my hands, and it came out of my brain. It was surreal.
Because I did not have an agent I had to hustle my own promotions. I held book signings at local bookstores, I made sure all local bookstores had copies of my book from the warehouse, I promoted it as much as I could through word-of-mouth and through online sales. Shortly after I wrote the book and launched it, I switched careers that involved a lot of training, and the creative part of my brain went dormant. I am still in the career that I switched to all these years later, but I have recently found joy in writing again. I owe it to a muse I found in the most peculiar place. I lost my muse long ago, so to find another one in a weird place, and completely unexpectedly was a shock and a joy. So thank you muse, and I will see you at the park in 2033. Until then, I’m pondering ideas for a second book, but I have no solid kernels on which to build yet. For now I continue with daily prompts, poetry and short stories, about some of my favorite things, which include Paris, cats, dogs, pigeons on the lamb, and Sometimes relationships.
For those of you who have considered writing a novel, or working on a novel, or have finished a novel, what are your experiences with the process? For example, I started at the end and worked my way back to the beginning. I worked pen and paper. I edited my own book with the pages looking like a murder scene had taken place. There was so much red pen. I didn’t tell anyone I was writing a book until I was done the book. I felt like it would be breaking a spell I was under. For me when I write I get in a zone. Does anyone else experience that? What are your experiences as you are writing whether you are working on a novel or another piece? Please comment below!
*I originally posted links to my book on a separate page on WordPress, but it has disappeared. I don’t think WordPress likes tennis.*
The song I thought of today is Unwritten, by Natasha Bedingfield.
I am unwritten Can’t read my mind I’m undefined I’m just beginning The pen’s in my hand Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten
Oh, oh, oh
I break tradition Sometimes my tries are outside the lines We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes But I can’t live that way
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten The rest is still unwritten The rest is still unwritten
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
Every single thing that happens to us influences our perspective on life. Some large events affect us more. With the passage of time, we are granted the gift of wisdom. Hopefully we use what we’ve learned. People sometimes lament about getting older. The truth is, getting older is a privilege denied to many.
I have no deep philosophizing for this prompt. Instead, I thought of song lyrics to a accompany my response.
This song has always had a very mellow feel to me. It reminds me of another time. Maybe sitting on a school bus listening to the radio, heading to or from school. The other kids laughing and talking, throwing stuff over my head. The gym-like smell of the seats. Did other people have bus drivers who let them listen to the radio? Please let me know in the comments, because my bus was jamming.
Time (Clock of the Heart) – Culture Club
Don’t put your head on my shoulder Sink me in a river of tears This could be the best place yet But you must overcome your fears
Oh, in time It could have been so much more The time is precious I know In time It could have been so much more The time has nothing to show
Because Time won’t give me time And time makes lovers feel Like they’ve got something real But you and me We know we’ve got Nothin’ but time And time won’t give me time Won’t give me time (Time, time, time)
Don’t make me feel any colder Time is like a clock in my heart Touch we, touch was the Heat too much I felt I Lost you from the start
Oh, in time It could have been so much more The time is precious I know In time It could have been so much more The time has nothing to show
Oh, in time It could have been so much more The time is precious I know In time It could have been so much more The time has nothing to show
“It's Amy,” I said. 