A Writer's Life

New Project!

I am working on a new personal project.  I am very excited about it.  I'm not going to give all of the details quite yet, but here's a little sneak peek, written in my nine-year-old daughter's words. :)

I want the world to be a happier place, so I created these writing classes.  You're probably wondering, how can writing help the world be a happier place?  Doctors have actually done studies that writing relieves stress.  If the world was a more "stress free zone," it would be a happier place.  You have the write to be relaxed.  You have the write to be inspired.  You have the write to be content.  You have the write to write...

:)

Love, Rachel

Invisible Threshold

When I was a little girl, I remember that my parents took me to a place where I didn't want to cross the threshold.  I remember it being a pizza place (but I could be wrong, my memory is not as strong as it used to be), but what I remember the most is a total unwillingness to cross the threshold.  I remember the resistance that I felt inside and just how much I didn't want to take another step.

This is where I am at with dating right now.  It's too bad in a way as I've met some nice people, but then I find myself resistant to going on dates with them.  I'm a little aggravated with myself, but I can't make myself do it, and it's not fair or right to go on dates in a half-hearted kind of way.  I'm taking the feeling as mere information: it's just not the right time for me to be dating, apparently.  I don't want to date for fun; I don't want to date seriously.  I just don't want to do it at all! 

When I think about going on a date, I feel like I'm that little girl again, with everything in my body railing against the idea of crossing the non-dating to dating threshold. 

For now, I'm back on a dating sabbatical and more content to be there than anywhere.

Love, Rachel

Your Turn: What threshold can't you stand to cross?   

Vacation-Sick

Do you cry when you leave your vacation? 

I do.  So does my daughter.  Especially our Spring Break trips to St. George.  I guess it would be worse if we had such a miserable time that we couldn't wait to come back home.   It was just so warm and sunny and relaxing on our trip that she said, "I wish we had some kind of device to wind back time.  I wish we were on our first day of vacation and not our last." 

At least there's a remedy for missing your vacation.   It's called obnoxious disco music. 

"I will survive!  I will survive!"

Love, Rachel

Your Turn: People get home-sick sometimes.  But do you get vacation-sick?  If you do, why do you think that is?  And: what is it about your vacation that makes you not want to leave?  Is there a place to duplicate that feeling in your life, somehow?

Forty Degree Drop

Yesterday, I was sitting by the pool at the Hilton Garden Inn.  I even got in and splashed around with Jaeme.  After a few hours, we were unfortunately sunburned (even with repeated applications of expensive sunscreen) but it was better than driving through the winter storm watch this afternoon.

The drive home: It was snowing and blowing so hard in places that I couldn't see where I was driving, and the big trucks were spitting up ice and splashing water up off the road and all over my windshield.  Thank goodness for getting my oil changed and my windshield wiper fluid re-filled right before we left.

The whole drive home, I kept thinking "all I have to do is keep my car on the road, all I have to do is keep my car on the road."  I got into this kind of weird driving zone and after I got past my stomach being all knotted up and my shoulders being all laced with fear, I somehow knew that I was going to get home just fine, scary or knot, being able to see the road or not, not knowing at what point I'd be able to drive out of the storm or not.   

I am sitting here, on the floor of my livingroom, and I am freezing, waiting for the thermostat to catch up after five days of being set to sixty.  But I'm home safe, and although I'm grateful to be home safe, it was sure hard to leave. 

From seventy-two to thirty-two in less than twenty-four hours,

Love, Rachel 

Here's a Little Tip for You

Several years ago, I ate at a particular restaurant with family in Illinois.  It had a cute little store attached to it, and I remembered the food as being good.  So, when we saw the same restaurant out here, I told Jaeme that we should check it out.  I guess I talked it up pretty good because she was really excited to go to their on our first night.

I guess I talked it up a little bit TOO much.  It started off with good service, i.e. walking up to the girl standing at the hostess stand and saying "two please."  She just laughed and said it wasn't her shift yet and that she'd gotten to work early and was just standing around.  Then she walked away!  We finally got seated, and I ordered the chicken and dumplings, anticipating something akin to what my mom used to make.  It was gooey and paste-like, not even close!  Jaeme ordered grilled chicken tenders and they brought her breaded chicken tenders; the waitress took them away and returned with about two ounces of the ugliest lookin' grilled chicken I've probably ever seen (and believe me, I've grilled ALOT of chicken in my day.)

We were "lucky" enough to sit next to the table where the manager was doing employee reviews.  Oh JOY, to hear him tell his employees how they needed to do better.  That made for a relaxing meal.  And, when we paid, the cashier "accidentally" added an extra dollar to the tip I wrote on the bill!!!  I wonder how often she helps her waitress friends in that sort of way and whether or not they split the overage on tips?  Do you know that $1 extra per person could add up to a hefty amount of extra tips/sales?  When I asked her about it, she was like, "it's only a dollar, do you really want me to take it off?" 

My tip is: there aren't that many great restaurants out here.  Stick with the chains.  No, wait.  Don't.

Love, Rachel

Electronics on Tour

Everything on tour is electronic these days.

Here's what I mean.  On Friday, Jaeme and I headed up to Zion National Park for a bus tour of the park and a walk along the river.  We were sitting up front by the driver, and low and behold, he was talking without saying a word.  That's right.  He had all of his comments recorded to his mp3 player, and whenever he'd get to a certain point of the ride, he'd just forward to the correct track and play his piece instead of speaking it.  He even played a track about how the buses are not allowed to pass bicyclists on the road when a particular bicyclist decided to not move out of the way.  Probably saved him a lot of vocal strain and relieved him from giving the same commentary over and over again each day.  Another use for the IPOD!

Today, Jaeme asked if we could go to the Wildlife Museum, so off we went.  We bought our tickets and had our hands stamped and then the girl working there handed me an electronic device.  She told me to walk through the museum and press the numbers on the device that correspond with the numbers on the displays.  When I asked for an electronic stick for Jaeme, I was told that they cost $1000 so they don't let kids carry them around.  (So, is the talking stick a money savings device over a human guide or not?)  Although I am an auditory learner, I am not a guided tour person anyway, so it really didn't matter to me (after pressing button 1,  I was ready to just do the walk through.) 

That's the long and electronic tour of it,

Rachel

Had to Get Away

on vacation!

Tomorrow morning, my daughter and I are taking off for a five day vacation.  She's on Spring Break, and got to spend the last two days at work with her dad.  We made reservations at a fancy hotel with a beautiful swimming pool and free wireless access so that I can do some work from the pool.  I about can't wait to get in the car tomorrow and just start driving south.   

We got our suitcase packed tonight and tomorrow night at this time, I hope to be sitting outside by a pool, watching palm trees swaying in a soft wind and watching the moon rise.

Will write from the road--hope to find inspiration there! 

Love, Rachel

 

A Person's A Person, No Matter How Small

We've had a nice Easter weekend.  Shopping on Saturday night, followed by some time at the bookstore, where I was reading a book called "In Defense of Food," and J. was reading a book on cats.  We sat there and shared facts from our books.  The barista came over and asked us if we were having fun--yes!  We went home and J. got to see The Sound of Music for the first time.  Unfortunately, we fell asleep on the couch in the third hour.

This morning, we split a chocolate chip muffin for breakfast and spent most of the day cleaning.  We went to an Easter Egg Hunt at J.'s dad's house and then off to the movies to see "Horton Hears A Who," which I really enjoyed (the title of my post here is the message of the movie.)  Dinner was ham steak, roasted red potatoes, crescent rolls, and we'll split a chocolate bunny when I'm hungry enough to eat it a bit later on.  Now we're watching Shrek, J.'s drawing cats, and I'm getting ready to read my new book for the week: The Slow Down Diet. 

I have nothing profound to say, but it's been a really nice weekend.

Happy Easter!

Love, Rachel

Word Blankets

I've been putting all my off-work creative thoughts into a special project, which means that there's not much left to tumble into my blog.  I'd planned to go to the gym tonight but I came home and got into a writing zone and wrote for five hours instead.  I like it when that happens--it's a good place for me to be, all curled up inside my words, they're cozy like the quilt my brother made for me at Christmas.

There was something funny at work today--on the lower floor of the building where I work, a network marketing convention was held.  And you never would have guessed by all the business builders' cars parked in the lot, all slathered with slogans like "double your income" and "earn 30K a month!"  The funny thing was is that the obnoxiously "loud" text was being hosted by some very upscale vehicles.  It was a convention of billboards in a parking lot.

And that's as much as I have left tonight.

Love, Rachel

It's All ASAP

I'm writing a book.  It's called "It's All ASAP."  It's about how when everything is urgent, nothing is.

And about how ASAP doesn't really mean, do it now.  An As Soon As Possible request is really a piece of land in Nevada, flat and with no ending point in sight for miles.  Possible could be anything from a mirage in the desert to a lux place to Gamble, somewhere nowhere or the seat that was just abandoned over by the dollar slots.  And what's soon?  Children know better than grown-ups that it's a a time-blocker, a flight delayed for hours, shorthand for "I don't know exactly" or on Mondays, "I don't want to say no but I don't want to say yes either."  When you think of it, requesting ASAP may have the opposite effect of what you want.

Love, Rachel

Your Turn: If it's all ASAP, then we all have plenty of time and no reason to stress.   Write about the last time you were asked to do something ASAP.  What did that mean to you?  How did it make you feel?  What effect did it have on your project?