The [Insert Descriptive Word Here] One

I didn't get an invitation to a party. It was one of those Facebook open invites, so the party showed up in my feed, and I'm free to attend it, but I didn't get an invitation. I'm looking at the list of people that did get invited, and low and behold, there is one of my best friends.

Since we're equally close to the birthday girl, this got me thinking. I'm friends with some pretty amazing people. They're smart, they're witty, they're pretty, they're kind, and they're loyal. All wonderful qualities. But this leaves me wondering, if I had to pick one descriptive quality, which one am I?

Did you ever see the movie Love Actually? There's this scene where Colin (the sex god, who's on the wrong continent) goes to "any bar" in America, and there are tons of hot girls. He's sitting with this table full of beautiful women, and one of them comments about their friend that's missing (Harriet I believe), and she says "she's the 'sexy one'."

That's what I'm wondering about. I have friends that I can describe as The Pretty One, or The Athletic One, or The Talented One, or any number of other adjectives... but I can't really find one for me. There are several I'd like to be (The Smart One or The Friendly One or The Loyal One), but if you saw me with my friends, you'd probably think I'm The Other One (lacking description) or depending on the day maybe The Funny One, or The Fat One, or even The Loud One.

I'm not even sure if it matters, everyone is going to have a different label anyhow, but after missing the invitation to a party, I'm wondering if I'm The Invisible One, or The Obnoxious One, or The One Secretly Voted Off The Island. Food for thought I guess. And maybe a new New Years resolution.

Lost

How do you fix something you're not completely sure is broken? Okay, fine, I'm 99.44 percent sure I inadvertently torched a friendship that was (is?) very important to me. I have no clue how to go about fixing it.

Alright, that's not completely true. I have no clue how to fix it, aside from apologizing. I did that. I'm still hanging out here in the land of the unsure. I don't know what to do next. At least not without making myself look like an even bigger head case. (In this case, it's likely that I come across as neurotic and almost definite that I come across as insecure, this would just add copious quantities of fuel to that fire.)

Sometimes a girl just wants a concrete answer. Even if it's not the answer I want, an answer would be better than no answer. They (whoever "they" are) always say that actions speak louder than words. Well I'm here to disagree. I'm a lawyer. I'm a girl. I'm neurotic. I can interpret a lot from actions. I think that clear words are much louder.

So with this situation in mind, I begin my list of New Years Resolutions for 2011.

1) Find a way to be less obsessive about communication received (or not received as the case may be) from others.

2) Find a way to unempower songs.

3) Find a job as a lawyer.

4) Find out how to become the person I want to be. (Find the person I want to be - who is hopefully not going to be neurotic.)

5) Spend more time with my friends and family.

6) Improve my financial situation.

7) [insert traditional weight loss/heath related goals here]

There you have it. The start of the list. It may change, grow or shrink in the next two weeks or so. Stay tuned.

Things That Suck About Working Retail

Alright, while I look for my lawyer job, I've found a retail job. It gets me out of the house, and gets a little money in my pocket, but it also makes me want to pull my hair out.

So here are the top 5 things that make me crazy:

1. Working weekends in general and working on Black Friday (I start before 4 am!)

2. My commissioned coworkers who snap at me for talking to people (Please note: I am NOT trying to steal your sale, I will happily ring it up for you).

3. The same coworkers stealing MY sales!

4. The fact that I'm practically wearing all black all the time.

5. Wearing the same black loafers every day (I have yet to get to the point where tennis shoes and slacks is an option and high heels are completely out of the question).

Of course, there are some good things about my job. Aside from my coworkers being overly suspicious, they're generally pretty nice. My boss is pretty cool. I get a good discount. I'm learning a lot about various household appliances. And again, even though it's a pittance, I'm earning some money.

Sticking Points As Sleep Aids

So, every so often (okay fine most of the time), when writing you run into a dead end. The story is moving along, and then you come to a point where you can't seem to move forward.

To me this usually indicates that I need to focus on something else for a while, then come back to it. This usually works, but I can't really do that for NaNo, I need to just try and write through it, which means writing something that's more drivel than usual.

Anyhow. So last night, I'm laying in bed, thinking about a point where I'm stuck... and before I can come to any sort of possible resolution, or way to reverse and restart, I'm sound asleep.

What does it say that my own story puts me to sleep?

Yeah. I thought so.

The NaNo Struggle

This year, the website for NaNo seems to have changed tactics. It now appears to be about reaching the daily goal - 1667 - instead of the monthly goal - 50,000. The end goal is still the same, and if you only met the daily goal you'd hit the end goal, but the problem I have is that sometimes my words rhyme slow and sometimes they rhyme quick. (Alright so that's Nice n' Smooth's words, but the principle applies).

Some days I'm on a roll and write 2000 words without issue and somedays 500 words is a struggle. Last year, as long as you were on track for the month, you were being successful. So if I wrote 2500 words on day one and 850 words on day two, I was still successful. Now, it seems to be removed to a daily level, so if I write 2500 words on day one, and 850 words on day two, I'm on target for the month, but day two is considered an unsuccessful day for not making it to 1667.

I'm not sure that I like this. I liked that I could write ahead and take a day off, and now I don't feel like I can. at least not so early in the game. Bummer.

Prep work for NaNo

The goal of NaNoWriMo, as previously stated, is to write 50k words in the month of November. The goal is to write ALL of those words in November.
Knowing my own creative process - this is my prediction - I'll go along swimmingly for the first week or two, writing my 1666 per day, moving the story along. And then BOOM. Out of no where, the muse will disappear, or the plot will die out. So what can I do to prevent that?

What I've done this year, is something that is apparently called a "style sheet", which is basically a cheat sheet about each major character. This way, I won't fall off track trying to figure out bits and pieces like where the main character went to college (University of Washington for a while then transfered to Boston College), or how many siblings the disapparing boyfriend has (2 a brother and sister, both younger, but not substantially). This also gave me a chance to map out the main character's relationship tree, how she's related to others, be it friendship, romantically, biologically, or professionally.
Lastly, one of the things that happens to the main character is that she sees things. Not in an Alice Cullen sees the future sort of way, but in a flashes of 'what might have been' sort of way... so I have to sort those out.

Another Crack at NaNoWriMo

So I'm trying again for National Novel Writing Month. Fingers crossed that I make it through this year. But to start it off (I know I'm supposed to wait til November 1st to start writing, but I can't help it), here is the prologue. (It's only like 150 words - thus not really a drop in the bucket towards the word count.)

Tentative Title: All Who Wander

“Not all those who wander are lost.” J. R. R. Tolkien

Prologue

I sat up from a dead sleep when I heard the bedroom door open with a creak. I immediately patted the other side of the bed, looking to find my boyfriend of six months. He wasn’t there. As the light spilled in from the hallway, I could see him standing in the doorway.

“Where are you going babe?” I asked sleepily, as I rubbed my eyes.

“Go back to sleep Sweetheart,” he said softly.

“Okay. Love you.” I lay back down, and rolled over towards the side of the bed he had just vacated.

“I love you too,” he murmured.

I heard the click of the latch, as he shut the door, and nothing more.

That was the last time I saw Cole St. John.

***

So there you have it... the start of something new.