Monday, December 31, 2012

Practice; Preach

Forgive your broken heart
And forgive your fallen star
And clean out the space you carry
In the hollow of your chest
Dust off the cobwebs of your mind
For a life lesson’s never far
And the learning never stops
And, my dear, that’s for the best
Make peace with all your worries
Let faith be greater than your fear
For every candle that you blow out
Strike a match to carry high
Don’t take things at face value
(They may be more or less than they appear)
And for every tear you weep
May you laugh until you cry
Celebrate the good and new
But honor that of yesterday
Stand up straight and drop your shoulders
To bear all burdens with easy grace
Cherish traditions and memories
But accept the change that comes your way
And, my dear, know that I love you—
I hope this helps you find your place

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Excerpt from Journal: December 7, 2012

The only reason it hurts so badly is because I have been so blessed.  I would not be so sad if I had not experienced those things and loved those people and had them love me back.  It is worth it.  As heartbroken as I am, it just shows the extent of how good I had it, and I couldn't be more grateful.  I am in so much emotional anguish and pain over these partings because at one point, my happiness was boundless, and this was the price.

-----

On goodbyes and graduating; I could not be more surprised at my own emotions.  I put tentative roots down in a city I thought I could never grow to love, but grow I did.  I met the most extraordinary people and learned so much, in and outside of the classroom.  And while I am thrilled to be home, and have looked forward to this for so long, I am so sad to leave my close friends.  It's an awful tug-of-war on my heart, but I am doing my best to not dwell on it all (though I have failed at that so far).

In my sadness, I am grateful.  Sending my love to all of my friends back in Lafayette.  I apologize for the excessive melodrama that I've been spouting for the past week or so.  And I apologize if this particular post is nonsensical.  I've been quite emotional.  But for good reason.  At least, I hope the stress of graduating and growing up and all that is good reason.

I've been so scatterbrained, I truly cannot think of a good way to end this post.  Just know that yes, I have been very emotional lately, and saying goodbye to a place I would sometimes slip up and call "home" every once in a while was extremely difficult, but that I wouldn't have it any other way.

Monday, November 19, 2012

A Toast

To pewter-colored skies
and balconies on which to sit
and stand and cry,
and talk and write and breathe
To Louisiana sunsets and humid nights
and the scent of jasmine carried
by a breeze
To being soaked through and chilled
to the bone
by the rain
and still walking through it
To pushing past our pain
to the other side of the storm,
where it is safe and warm
To belonging to someone— to anyone—
to anything— to anywhere
To those who have come before us
and those who will come after
To the echoes of their laughter
and to laughter not yet heard
and to memories not yet made
and to visions not yet seen
To wine, red and white and
in between
To owning everything you are
and everything you do
To claiming your talents
and never being ashamed of celebrating
the joy of being you
To knowledge and nostalgia
To handwritten letters and
postage stamps and ink and
paper; to flesh and bone
To starry, starry nights
To soft lips and strong hands
and to the symbolic lights
that guide us home
To curves in all the right places
To curves that seem out of place
but are phenomenally beautiful anyway
To unconventional beauty—
To our duty to see the good
in all of humankind
To the golden light at dusk that
magically transforms all it touches
into something more
To the thunderstorms that beat
against you
but have yet to break you
To the open highway and
the roads that we all must take
and to the ones less taken
To impressions that we make
and to the carefully chosen words
that make or break our fate
To the quiet, secret world we see
when the moon shows her face
and we cannot sleep
To never knowing the full depth
of the oceans,
or the full height
of the mountains,
To those mysteries and the secrets
that we keep
To the fireworks that pop and crack
as we delight in the excitement
and raise our heads to see
the scenes that unfold above—
And most of all,
I raise my glass
And make a toast 
To love 

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

What am I?

I am a Menthos dropped into a Diet Coke.  I am an arrow released from the tension of the bow.  I am vinegar poured over baking soda.  I am a stone flying from the strap of a slingshot.

I am 25,000 words (25,245, to be exact) into a 50,000 word "novel."  I am sleep deprived and doing 800 things at once.  I am one month (and one day...) away from graduating from college.  I am standing on the threshold of the rest of my life.  I am, naturally, doing this every single day, but I am now extremely conscious of it.

I am both desperate for and repulsed by complacency.  I am tiny in my fear, and I am enormous in my love for life.  I am cowering before all that faces me, and I am revealing myself to the vastness of the world.  I am contradictory in my nature.

I am singing into the wind; I am hiding my face; I am screaming into the void; I am treading lightly; I am disturbing the universe; I am avoiding it altogether; I am rambling.

I am terrified, I am excited, I am anxious, I am impatient, I am hesitant, I am curious, I am afraid.

The question that remains is, am I ready?


Monday, October 29, 2012

NaNoWriMo 2012!


Yep.  That's my username in that top right corner.  Which means it's official: I've signed up for NaNoWriMo.  This blog post is for all to see so that I can be held accountable.  As so many already know... it's a lot harder to quit or give up on something when all 400+ of your closest Facebook friends expect something of you.

The basic premise is that those who sign up for NaNoWriMo have all of November to write their novel, which MUST be at least 50,000 words.  (And even though NaNoWriMo is already shortened, I'm going to shorten it more to NNWM, because I'm just that lazy.)  NNWM is very generous in their definition of a novel: "If you believe you're writing a novel, then we believe you're writing a novel."

I have always wanted to do this, and I've always made excuses as to why I can't do it.  It's time to stop hiding behind these excuses... even though some of them are very acceptable.  I'd like to take a moment to reflect on my own insanity by agreeing to attempt NNWM the month before I graduate, which is sure to be one of the most hectic months of my life.  And let's not forget that I turn 22 this month, which will be my golden birthday, and I'm sure to receive 22 solid gold bars as a gift, so I'll have to figure out what to do with all that wealth and luxury, and if that doesn't say DISTRACTION from writing, then I don't know what does.  So, yes, there's a myriad of things to consider for my NNWM 2012 endeavor.

This is why I am changing the NNWM goal for me.  I did not give myself enough time to prepare an idea, background, plot, or anything necessary for writing a novel.  I have zero prewriting done.  Quite frankly, a novel is not the best thing for me to try and squeeze in just for the sake of completing NNWM with my last month of what is sure to be intense schoolwork left.  So instead of a novel of 50,000 words, I am going to be aiming for just 50,000 words of prose in general.  Whatever I write does not need to be connected in any particular way, or go together at all.  I just want to accomplish the 50,000 word deal.  I considered doing the 1,667 words a day version (which is exactly how many words per day of the 30-day month are needed to pass the 50,000 word goal on Nov 30, and would entail exactly 30 individual pieces with 1,667 words each), but I'd like to think that some of my prose pieces will take me longer, or may wind up being connected, or could even form a little baby novella.

I'm not ready to start writing a novel, not ready to take on a novel-in-a-month challenge.  But I am ready to do something.  I am tired of hiding and being afraid and not facing anything because that could mean failure.  If I fail... I fail!  As my dear bestie Jo Rowling has famously said, "It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all-- in which case, you fail by default."

If I'm going to fail, I'm going to fail in a high-flying epic scheme of intensity... like, say, a 50,000 word personal challenge.  I do not want to fail by default, by not trying anything.

Thanks to Fr. Kyle for convincing me to take the plunge, sign up, and commit myself in the best way I can.  And thanks to those that have sent me encouraging messages.  Y'all are great.  If you're considering signing up for and are waiting for a sign, HERE IT IS!  At least try it.  The worst that happens is that you fail, but succeed in gaining some awesome experience.  Check it out here.

Two days and counting until November first, when my first (minimum of) 1,667 are "due."  Wish me luck?

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Question


Can you hear the silence
As you stand
On the threshold
Of everything that matters
Clinging to your footholds and handholds
Listening to the growing hum
Of hundreds of humans
Slowly raising their voices
Until the hum becomes a buzz
And the buzz becomes a roar
And the roar becomes more,
A cacophony of insanity,
People desperately screaming
To make their words heard,
To distinguish their messages
And you, clinging to the edge,
What are you going to do about it?
It’s time, it’s time
Time to make your decision
And share your convictions
Time to get your gears in motion
And add your voice to the commotion
Time to fling the sounds
Your vocal cords have created,
Uniquely yours,
Into the din, until your vowels and your consonants
And your phonetics rise about the rest
Or will you find yourself frozen
Petrified by the devotion of others
That you can’t seem to match
Immobilized by the frenzy
Of those fighting for attention
In a world of self-invention
It is time, it is time
It is time to leap from your hiding place
Or turn your face away from it all
To leap and fly
To leap and fall
To do nothing at all
You rest on the cusp of the rest of your life—
And this is it
It’s time
And it all comes down to you—
What will you do?

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Les Misérables: THE MOVIE!

Last night, I was at the movies with some friends, not paying attention to the trailers because my Bunchacrunch box was putting up an excellent fight in not being opened, when someone started singing on screen.  It caught my attention, so I looked up, and within the first three seconds of the trailer, I knew.

Not because of the music, not because of the first two shots of a man I didn't recognize, but because of Anne Hathaway and her haircut.  The desperate song, the hair, and the knowledge in the back of my head of a movie about this book coming out-- Les Misérables.

I'm not at all familiar with the musical, Les Mis (because I am uncultured and uncouth?), nor do I know any of the music from it.  But I know the book.  Allow me to catch you up with events leading up to me reading Les Mis:

1.  The Abridged Heidi Incident
2.  Desire to read more classics
3.  Started reading the abridged Les Mis
4.  Panic upon realization of another abridged book
5.  Purchase of a brick known as unabridged Les Mis

Les Mis took me almost an entire year to read cover to cover.  It is, by far, the most difficult book I have ever read.  I can't say that I understood every last detail or grasped every last symbol or even appreciated every last reference to historical events that I should know more about but don't.  My French history knowledge is rusty at best, and my God, was Hugo ever determined to make sure his readers understood Waterloo.  I still can't believe that one book took me a year to finish.  Granted, that was a very busy year for me and a very wordy, very elaborate, very difficult book to finish, but still.  I was a little ashamed of how slow my reading pace went with Les Mis.

But I'm so glad I read it.  And seeing the movie trailer gave me chills, truly, like, goosebumps all up and down my arms and hair standing up and everything.  It just absolutely blows my mind that things like this can happen, can transcend time and country and language.  This book was written in 1862.  I wish I could capitalize letters to impress how insane I think that date is.  EIGHTEEN SIXTY TWO!  In the year one thousand, eight hundred, and sixty two, Victor Hugo wrote a book as a social commentary on various subjects about the lives of these damned and somewhat helpless French lower-class citizens that we can still relate to today.  Centuries later, we have made songs from it and a movie from it, and if I can cry about the death of a fictional prostitute (driven to such a profession by her miserable circumstances) from the 1800s, then surely I can be moved to see the current world in which I live in a different light, and make a difference-- can't I?

Books and the themes with which they present us are meant to light a fire within us that catapults us to a new state of thinking and being.  When I read, I want to be faced with an idea or opinion or belief that I have never yet encountered, and if it's uncomfortable or something I've been opposed to before, all the better.  Make me think.  I am a conscious, sentient human being, and I want to be challenged and made to consider options I never would have thought of on my own.  My favorite books have shown me worlds and ways of thinking that make me hungry for more.

It was incredible for me to see the trailer for Les Mis, to see scenes so similar to what I had pictured in my head in bright, moving images before me.  I swear, the barricade scene during the émeute was almost exactly like what I had conjured in my mind, and that visions like this can happen astounds me.  And it all started from a brick book.  A book that it was my absolute privilege to read.

Banned Books Week has recently finished, and even though I'm quite late on addressing that topic, just give me a couple of sentences more to say-- books should never be banned.  Even when I think a book is stupid and worthless (and oh, I could name a few), I do not believe they should be banned.  There are so many worlds to discover and so many new ways of thinking to try.  I want so badly to share this sentiment through my own writing.  One day!




Tuesday, October 2, 2012

La douleur

What happens when our tired, aching feet,
grown too big for their shoes,
absolutely refuse to pull us out and
around to where our old stomping
grounds used to be, when our meeting
place is nothing more than the lost and
found for memories of old, forgotten days?

What happens when we scatter silently,
here and there and everywhere, like 
dandelion fluff, carried by a puff of
leisurely breeze at its ease,
to each their own, to find a home,
as the breeze turns into a wind, and
blows us to all four corners and more
of the earth, how will we continue
to determine our friendship's worth?

What happens when you are where 
you want to be and have forgotten me,
when I am lost in the middle of 
my mind, and cannot find my
way out through the maze I traced
from older days, when we 
used to know the path, but when
you are where you want 
to be, who will help to set me free?

What happens then?


Thank you for reading.  I am learning.  I am growing.  I am changing.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Own Your Talents

I set goals for myself allllll the time.  All are serious in nature, as they pertain to edging me along the way to the life I want to have for myself, but they all vary in size and difficulty.  Examples:

  • "Make small talk today."  (I despise small talk.  I'm actually quite good at it, but I prefer silence over forced conversation.) 
  • "Don't look at the sidewalk/down as you walk."  (There's so much more to be seen!)
  • "Walk slower."  (Not that I would EVER have any wishes to be confused for a slow-walker, but I tend to walk quickly and with an extreme purpose, and this sometimes means that I miss out on awesome things around me.  Coincides with above goal.)
  • "Don't drink Coke for three days in a row."  (It's bad for me.  I know this.)
  • "Write down one good thing about every day for an entire year in order to change how you view your life."  (YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT THIS ONE)
  • "Make a blog post at least once a month for all of 2012."  (Safari, s'goodi!)
  • "Write at least one poem a month."  (I have very much exceeded this, to my own surprise.)
  • "Own your talents.  No more hiding."
That last one is a toughie because it's a life-long kind of thing, you know?  It's not like I make it to the end of a day/week/month/year and think, "Phew, that's over!  Glad I did it.  Hope I learned something."  I have several goals that are constant, day-to-day efforts, and I do mean "efforts" in the truest sense of the word.  They can be physically taxing in how difficult they are for me to achieve.  They can bring me to tears when I feel that I've failed.  They can follow me for the rest of my life, because I can fail them, but I don't know that I can ever fully achieve them.  It kind of sucks.  But I seriously do feel that it's something I have to do, because I've made a commitment to myself to honestly be a better person, for the sake of others and for myself.

So, of all of my many faults and shortcomings, one of which I am most ashamed is how long it took for me to own my talents.  I like to think that I have (had?) some sort of talent-dysmorphia.  Body-dysmorphia is a real thing, in which people truly cannot see their own bodies for the way they actually are; they seem them as distorted and ugly and so on and so forth.  I feel like for me, I could never see my talents as things worthy of sharing and things of which to be proud.  To say I am smart, to say I write well, to say things of that nature, is to be a braggart, immodest, lacking humility, vain, self-centered, etc.  I could never share my talents on a wide scale because it would be, in short, wrong.  

It has taken me years to be at this point, where I can say good things about myself and what I can do with only minor flinching (kidding...?).  It's one of the most awkward things for me to do.  But it's okay.  Owning my talents does not make me a bad person.  Claiming myself for who I am does not mean I'm bragging.  Hiding what I do well and putting down any compliments is only doing a disservice to myself and to the God who gave me these to share, to increase the joy of others, when possible.  And I hate thinking that not owning who I am is doing exactly the opposite of what my God intended.

There are so many levels on which I have convinced myself that I ought to be ashamed, and it's exhausting.  It's even more exhausting for me to put those old self-views aside and lay claim to my talents.  But it's the kind of exhaustion that I think will be worth it in the end.

So my goal to claim my talents and own what I do started small.  Publish a couple of poems on Facebook.  And God, that was TERRIFYING.  I had to stop.  It was too much, too soon.  I think I put up all of 2 poems before the panic set in.  Too many people could identify me with those words.  So I tried something even smaller.

I started publishing my poems on my tumbr, where very few people knew me for me.  And that's when the change started happening.  People started liking and reblogging my poems.  I have written about this, which I consider to be somewhat of a phenomena, before.  People genuinely seemed to like what I was writing, for the words themselves, not because I was Erica and they knew me and "had" to like it.  Some of my poems have been exceptionally well-received.  I was so proud of myself, which is not a feeling I am overly familiar with.  Proud of the things that I had been keeping from people who love and support me, and always have, for so long.

I shared a couple of poems with people I know in real life, and I'm finally ready to break through and share not only a poem, but the scanned image of it in its original form in my poetry notebook, which is very personal and close to my heart.  That's as raw as it gets.  But I have to post it in its own blog entry... because as my favorite creative writing teacher told me, no disclaimers to your writing.  I'm cheating by having this blog post as an ENORMOUS disclaimer here.  The poem I've chosen to share is not only one of my favorites, but just had a pretty nice reception on tumblr.  So... the poem will be up here in a couple of days... stay tuned!




Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Erica in Ireland

I know, I know.  I went to Ireland 4 months ago.  Now is hardly the time to writing about it.  But I didn't want to write about Ireland when it was the appropriate time, because I'm fussy like that.  And now that an appropriate blog post would be Isaac and hurricanes and Katrina and New Orleans and my whole maudlin opinion on such topics, I find myself exhausted at the idea of having to write about that when everyone's already so sick of hearing about such things.

So, forgive me for my tardiness, but I'm actually going to write about Ireland now.  And by "write about", I'm going to transcribe my notebook entries while in that gorgeous country.  I was so determined to writewritewrite about Ireland, and I didn't, until the last couple of days.  What could I say about everything?  What words could I possibly choose to describe what I was experiencing?

In the end, I chose to write about the people.  Here's what I finally poured out through my pen:

May 30, 2012

I think I've been avoiding writing about Ireland.  It's true that we've been going fairly non-stop, and in our down periods, we SLEEP, but there's just so much to say that the idea of sitting down to journal about it is overwhelming.  I wanted so badly to find inspiration here that I've been putting off writing in case I didn't find what I wanted.

Everything is beautiful.  Everyone is beautiful. 

That's the summary of what I'm taking away from this experience.  The land, the people, the interactions, everything-- beauty.

Claire O'Presco-- young woman who grew up working in Ireland's bogs with her great-uncle.  If she was good, she got to go inside and watch the weaving.  Graduated with a BA in textile arts.  Reassembled a 100-year old loom and now works as an artist making scarves, bags, stuffed animals, etc.  Loves her job.  All animals she makes have their "own little personalities."  Never wastes a scrap of wool.  So loving.  Close-cropped asymmetrical hair, dyed, reddish-purple-brown, fuzzy untweezed eyebrows, glasses.  Beautiful.

Eugene-- OPW worker at Boyle Abbey- closes gates at 5:15 but doesn't leave until 6.  White hair, white beard, blue-blue eyes, small gold glasses.  No wedding ring.  Loves the Abbey.  Loves it so much.  Wonders about what the builders were thinking.  Let us buy 4 postcards for just 1 euro (undercharged).  Climbed Croagh Patrick with a blind man.  He and the guide held onto the stick at one end, while the blind man held onto the other end.  Short, a little stout, like a medium Santa.  Beautiful.

Man at Croagh Patrick-- climbs it every day before work.  Gets up early to make his climb.  Best time: 1 hour 15 minutes.  Bleach-blonde hair, no shirt, running shorts.  Crazy.  Beautiful.

Woman in Roscommon gift shop-- very soft-spoken.  Short blondish hair in a gentle bob around her wrinkly face.  Glasses.  Sat on a stool behind register and talked to us.  Wanted to know if she could climb Croagh Patrick at age 68.  I don't know if we convinced her or not.  Seemed lonely not in life, but behind that counter.  Ended our conversation with "God bless."  Beautiful.

Man with Famine cottages-- tall.  Strawberry blonde hair.  Gentle eyes and soft voice.  Must have known Gaelic-- stumbled in English.  Heavy Irish accent.  Was sitting in truck with border collies when we approached.  Left truck to sell us tickets (to see the cottages) from a small ticket booth a foot next to his truck.  Had hand-drawn maps and info for us.  Stayed in his truck while we looked and learned.  Gave us food for his animals.  No one in Ireland talks about the Famine-- small miracle he kept those cottages on his land for viewing purposes.  When we came back, he genuinely wanted to know if we thought it was worth the price he charged us (only 2 euros/ticket).  We explained how sad it was but how amazing it was to see it.  He seemed proud to have been able to show and share his cottages.  Beautiful.

Thomas Christopher Coyne-- artist, craftsman, artisan-- sitting at a small table outside of ancient Celtic tomb (Poulnebrone).  Red cheeks from sitting in sun all day, white rock dust scuffed across under his eyes.  Bright eyes.  Rough working apron, tunic with hood pulled up over head to protect from sun.  Rough, sure, gentle, strong hands.  Deftly handled the pewter.  Interesting-- making money, but did not seem to be a tourist scam.  Truly, truly loved what he was doing.  Had several books at his little table.  All very well-loved.  Showed us his book that defined what trees the Celtic letters stood for and what they meant/represented.  This book was so loved.  It was a friend.  He handled it beautifully.  Great accent, great conversationalist.  Must enjoy both talking to people and the occasional solitude of his work.  Kind soul.  Beautiful.

Rory-- OPW worker at New Grange.  Tallish, brownish hair.  Blue eyes.  Baby face, round owl face.  Nice accent.  Great sense of humor.  Looks young but must be in early 30s.  Has held OPW job for 8 years.  Constantly reading/doing research on monument and era.  Doesn't like math/science but appreciates the subjects.  Has experienced winter solstice at New Grange TWICE-- "very humbling experience."  Prefers idea of birth/death/rebirth for Neolithic entrance stone drawings-- thinks it the "nicest of the theories."  Loves what he does.  Curious.  Good with people.  Friendly.  Funny.  Beautiful!

Pablo-- flight attendant on our 8 hour flight from Ireland to Atlanta.  Very funny!  Stays in great humor.  Short, happy, pepper hair and happy eyes.  Uniform, but has an extra something to it-- happiness/satisfaction in career choice?  Lovely accent.  Jokes with passengers and other flight attendants.  Jokingly asked me if I was writing about him.  I smiled and said yes; he thought I was joking, but I am.  Very kindly.  Truly cares.  Makes connections, I think.  Rare kind of person.  Beautiful.

...

I dislike the fact that I will probably never know if the 68 year old woman will climb Croagh Patrick.  I think that will be on my list of questions to ask God when I die.

There are 7 billion stories to share and tell, and I can't seem to imagine even just one of them.  Maybe I should travel the world and just collect stories and retell them...

Monday, August 20, 2012

Writers Read and Readers Write

I love to read.  I think that may go without saying.  I used to tear through books as quickly as I could get my hands on them when I was younger.  To say that I was a voracious reader would be an understatement.  My punishments were often having my book of the day taken away.  I would get a new book from the store or the library, and my mother would have to keep it from me until we got home-- she would be annoyed at how far I would get into a book just on the ride home.

And then there was the traumatic Heidi incident.  At my elementary school, we had the AR program.  Certain books were marked as part of the program, and each book had a different point value assigned (the more difficult reading level or length of the book, the more points the book was worth).  When you finished reading the book, you took a test on the library's computer, and your score on the test determined how many AR points you received out of the book's given point value.  I loooved the AR program and would tear through books to get more points.

And then Heidi.  Oh, Heidi.  In fourth grade, I went for Heidi because it had a high point value... but I accidentally read the abridged version.  I had no idea that there was such a thing as "abridged" and "unabridged" books.  Needless to say, the AR test pulled questions from the unabridged version, and to my shame and horror, I failed the AR test.  My reading pace slowed down considerably from then-- I read books so carefully, I take in every word-- if I skip a word and try to pass over it, it eats at me until I go back and reread the entire page.  I don't know if this is entirely Heidi's fault, or if I've just grown to be a more careful reader over time.  Regardless, I've turned into a relatively slow reader.

But I love reading.  I love books so much.  I could write hundreds of blog posts on why I love books to such a degree.  Unfortunately, my commitment to my schoolwork often overtakes the time I would normally dedicate to reading for pleasure.  I have been trying to read more for my own purposes, not for school, but I find it difficult.  And then I tried to tackle Les Mis last summer, and fell short.  I promised that I wouldn't read any other books except those for school until I finished Les Mis (I broke that promise, but only a little).  It was kind of... dare I say... miserable.

So this summer, I made another promise to myself.  I would read 15 books (roughly one for every week of summer).  This would have been nothing a few years ago, but it was a BIG goal for the Erica of today.  I finished Les Mis before my 15 weeks started and then started.  My books were all different lengths (one being quite short indeed...), and I finished 14.5 books in my allotted time.  I'm still working on that last one!  My list does not include the books that I've read so many times I can nearly recite them, which I always pick up on the odd day and polish off passages just for the fun of it.

The purpose of my goal was to rediscover how much FUN reading is.  My creative writing teacher, Ms. Hopkins, told us that if we truly love something, we should have to find time to STOP doing it, not try to make time FOR it.  She was right.  It's something that she said in passing, and I don't think she expected it to resonate with anyone, but it's something that has burrowed its way into my brain and stuck with me ever since.  And I'm proud to say that this summer, I found myself have to convince myself to put my book down and do something else from time to time.  I was immersed in literature again.

I read new things and old things.  I read graphic novels, which I've never done before.  I read an autobiography, which I've never done before.  I read nonfiction, which I normally dislike.  I read a play, which I have only done voluntarily (not for school) once before.  This was another side trip in this journey of bettering myself and getting towards the Erica I want to be.  I'm so glad I did this for myself.  As I learned in 6th grade from my teacher Mrs. North, writers read and readers write.  The two go hand in hand.  And, as part of my journey of bettering myself by exploring
my subconscious and handling my personal issues through writing, I must, of course, write-- and to write better, I must read.

Does that make any sense?  Not only was it important for me to get back to doing something I love, it was also important to include this as an actual step in my journey.  Ironically, I feel horribly scatterbrained and as if I'm not making much sense tonight.  I think I might be repeating myself, too.

I apologize if this blog post is not as well-written as I would normally like, but I've got half an eye on one of my favorite shows, Criminal Minds, and half my attention glancing back at my book, as I try to decide which I want to focus all of my attention on after I post this... ;)


My summer reading, though not in the order in which they're stacked:

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (finished)
Home by Julie Andrews
A Glamorously Unglamorous Life by Julia Albain
Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
Persepolis 2 by Marjane Satrapi
Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson (an all-time favorite author!)
Paper Towns by John Green
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
I am the Messenger by Markus Zusak (a new favorite author!)
The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw
Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli (reread)
The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman (reread)
The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman (reread)
The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman (reread... and not done yet!)

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Journal Excerpt, August 13, 2012

My eyes are burning, and I doubt I can take this much longer.  I cannot wait for my LIFE to start taking shape.  If I could just have some sense of direction!  The stars travel in their fixed paths every night without weariness.  I travel such an erratic path.  To know the stolidness of the stars!  To know my destiny, day in and day out, and to be of such a nature as to have no complaint about it.  But, of course, the stars don't actually move at all-- they are steady, fixed points, and I imagine that I would dislike that very much.  So though I fear change, I am capable of imagining my displeasure at never moving, never changing, never growing-- that life would be even more intolerable than I find the act of adaptation to be.  I am content to admire the stars, but to envy them no longer.



"Star trails" photographed from the Australian outback.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Favorite OGTAD Entries

As promised!  I only meant to post a few, but I got carried away.  Kudos if you make it through all of them.  Many are too personal to be shared in a blog, but these are just some that are especially close to my heart.

This is my journal after a year of good things.  Sorry it's sideways!  Kind of beat up... as it should be.



Day #5: August 5, 2011
Today was my last day of work.  I SURVIVED.  I didn't quit or play hooky or completely give up.  I stuck it out, learned some things, and left feeling like I conquered something.  They bought me a little cake and a cat balloon and told me how much they appreciated my work-- whatever I did, I did it.


Day #9: August 9, 2011
I went to drop off donation money for Christine Johnson's St. Baldrick's event- she is going to shave her head for cancer.  When I got there, she asked me to come inside and showed me a framed drawing hanging on the wall.  It was the pen and ink streetcar drawing that I did with Mr. Cummisky in tenth grade.  I was so full of emotion that I could barely speak.  I never knew where the drawing had gone after having been auctioned off.  Christine introduced me to her parents, who seemed happy to meet "the girl who had done the drawing."  I was just blown away by having the opportunity to see my art hanging up in someone else's house.  I'm so grateful Christine took the time to show me it today.

Day #14: August 14, 2011
I decided to take my Mac to the Apple store because the battery was not holding a charge, and I wanted to get it fixed before schools tarted.  The guy that looked at my computer was very nice, patient, and explanatory.  The battery was supposed to cost $99, but because something was not in stock in the back, he gave me the new battery FOR FREE!  He could have made me come back another day and pay, but he gave me a brand new battery free of charge (pun).  I feel so blessed and grateful!  Very thankful he was "assigned" to me.


Day #18: August 18, 2011
(excerpt- 4 year anniversary with Michael) I'm so blessed to be in a strong and lasting relationship with someone who turned out to be my best friend and is truly my other half.  Sometimes I can't believe how much work it is, and sometimes I can't believe how easy and effortless it is.  I am in LOVE with Michael Tran and his love and presence in my life is the best example of a "Good Thing" that I can think of.

Day #61: September 30, 2011
I'm home from Lafayette today!  Because Michael is moving, I came in to help him pack, and thus discovered my "good thing": He has kept EVERY SINGLE note/letter/drawing I've ever given him.  Every last scrap of paper, card, envelope, Post-It, the whole shebang.  It floored me-- it was actually quite sweet.  I couldn't believe (or remember) half the stuff we found.  WOW.


Day #74: October 13, 2011
Today... was not a happy day.  But I am learning to focus on the good things.  Jessica, Shelsey, Richard and I got ice cream from Sidelines today after lunch and hung out by the swamp like we used to do when we were freshmen.  (...)  I am learning, and it's hard, but I hope this journal helps.  Each day is a gift to be appreciated.

Day #80: October 19, 2011
This evening was incredible.  Went to the SYTYCD season 8 tour- wow.  The dances were breathtaking.  I feel absolutely privileged to have seen them live.  (...) And I met Melanie Moore!  She was exactly like I imagined her to be, very human and real.  I'm so happy I was able to go.


Day #90: October 29, 2011
Good day!!  Sorely needed.  Went to BR to meet up with Michael, Danny, Sarah, and Miles.  Walked around the mall for about 3 hours with them; got my "Miles fix" (haven't seen him in so long!).  Then Michael and I went caching, got our 300th cache.  It was a gorgeous day.  At Cracker Barrel for dinner- we paid for someone else's meal.  It was genuine joy.  I was so glad to have been away from Lafayette, to do NO work, to have fun, and to put another good deed out in the world.

Day #107: November 15, 2011
Today, I am thankful that my only stress is school-related.  I am lucky and blessed to even be able to afford going to school and living in a nice apartment.  I have my health, a family that loves me, the best boyfriend in the world, and friends that make me laugh.  I may be stressed to the point of tears about school and projects, but that which brings me such sadness further emphasizes that which brings me joy.


Day #122: November 30, 2011
Today, I'm still grateful for friends who are generous and caring, who make me laugh through my pain.  I am grateful to have nearby family and far away family who loves me.  I am grateful to have a bed and an apartment to even be infested with bedbugs.  And I'm grateful for my loving God who is here and with me even when I feel most alone.

Day #156: January 3, 2012
We made it to New York... and MET DARREN CRISS!  We waited outside for 4.5 hours in 20 degree temperature.  Darren was so sweet- he yelled for quiet and thanked everyone and then jumped around in excitement.  I got to tell him congratulations.  He also told Alyssa he was giving her a mental hug, and she got a great picture with him.  We both got autographs.  I am sooo happy for Alyssa.  Very cold (and still shivering!) but quite an experience.


Day #249: April 5, 2012
There's a poetry blog on tumblr called "leaveyouapen" that I absolutely love.  The guy is such a beautiful writer.  He made a list of blogs that he recommended for people, and my blog was on it!!!  I could barely believe it.  I felt so honored to have ben noticed and promoted by my idol.  I also wound up with several new followers because of it.  I'm a little stunned.

Day #257: April 13, 2012
(excerpt... ;) )  NSAC IS FINALLY OVER!!!!!!!!!!!  I'm so unbelievably exhausted and happy.  After about 3 hours of sleep, we gave our presentation.  It's over.  I'm so proud of us.


Day #276: May 2, 2012
I woke up to discover that my favorite tumblr poet, leaveyouapen, reblogged my poem "Je te vois" last night.  He said it was brilliant, beautifully written, and a "breath-taking late night read."  Over the course of the day, people kept liking and reblogging it as well as my other poems.  I think it's up to 43 notes now.  I'm absolutely overwhelmed with joy and pride.  I'm so happy to have been recognized.  Getting reblogged by him was always a secret, unacknowledged goal of mine. :)

Day #294: May 20, 2012
Not sure what time it is-- we're somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean right now!  So far we have had very smooth flights.  We got a travel blessing from Fr. Jimmy yesterday.  I'm grateful that everything is going well so far and am confident that God will deliver us safely.  This will have to be a short entry- not much to say about today except lots of flying.  Thankful the opportunity.


Day #298: May 24, 2012
We drove the Ring of Kerry today- saw sights more beautiful than I can comprehend.  My camera can't capture everything my eyes saw.   We also made it to Blarney and kissed the Blarney Stone- I'm so proud of myself for doing that.  It was scary climbing up the spiral staircase and having to lean backwards to kiss it, but I'm glad I didn't let my fear stop me.  Still amazed at this beautiful country and all that it has to offer.

Day #312: June 8, 2012
Michael and I went to visit Maw Maw today.  We brought her Popeye's and ate dinner with her.  She really enjoyed it; she was very chatty today (...) She says the first thing she does when she wakes up in the morning is to recite MY social security number!  She's sharp.  I love my Maw Maw!


Day #315: June 11, 2012
Angela Giffin got engaged!!!  I'm so very excited and happy for it.  I'm also quite honored that she stopped by to tell me in person.  Her ring is absolutely gorgeous.  I screamed quite a bit when she told/showed me, as did my mother when she heard the commotion.  I'm so happy her moment has come.  She truly deserves this happiness.  I enjoyed hearing the story and seeing the pictures- just perfect.  Today's good thing is dedicated to our friendship and her future!

Day #318: June 14, 2012
Had dinner with Michael, Nick, and their parents.  I'm so stuffed with pho and eggrolls now.  It's evenings like this that make me realize how grateful I am for my two families, and how blessed I am to be loved by both my parents and his.  I'm so fortunate.


Day #321: June 17, 2012
Father's Day!  Dad made ribs for us to enjoy at lunch. (...)  I am SO grateful for my dad, who is truly an amazing father.  I only hope that I show this appreciation as much as I feel it.  I'm so blessed to have my dad and to have experienced life with him at my side.  I treasure our relationship so much.

Day #335: July 1, 2012
My poem from the other day- "A Platonic Tale of Two Friends"- has gotten over 100 notes on tumblr.  Triple digits.  None of my original content posts have ever achieved anything like this before.  It's outrageous.  I hope that I can do something with this in the future.  It has a featured tag and everything.  I'm just feeling overwhelmed and grateful, but mostly humbled.  I'm so glad I put myself out there.  This is what makes me happy.  This is what I feel I am meant to do.  


Day #341: July 7, 2012
(excerpt) St. Jerome celebrated Fr. Jimmy's 50th birthday and 20th anniversary of his ordination today.  I really enjoyed the event.  I love the people of our parish.  They have watched me grow up and have rooted for me in every aspect of my life, and have cheered for me and Michael the whole time.  It's an honor to be part of this parish family.

Day #345: July 11, 2012
(excerpt) While leaving work, I gave a homeless man $5.  He said the usual- "thank you, God bless, drive safe"- and then he said, "I love you!"  I looked right back at him and said, "Well, I love you too!" And I meant it, and he knew it.  The look on his face said it all.


Day #355: July 21, 2012
Spent the day with the Laurents.  Saw 3rd Batman movie- awesome, of course.  But the best part was, as always, the joy of seeing Miles.  He walks freely now, knows so many words, and is so chattery and giggly.  What an absolute godsend.  So full of energy and life.  I especially love when we all sit on his bedroom floor and Michael and I get to share the intimate moments before bedtime, making sure that love is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep.

The inside cover of my journal.   I kept my promise and am so very proud of myself and so aware of my blessings.  I've said it before, but it's worth saying again-- what a year.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

OGTAD- 366 Days Later...

Wow.  Just... wow.  On August 1, 2011, I began a journey in the hopes that I could teach myself a lesson.  Wow.  I'm sitting here trying to think of the words to sum up all that I've learned.  I can't believe it's been a whole year, and at the same time, I can't believe it's been only a year.

Last summer, I was not in a very good place mentally.  I was in a pretty dark place, mentally, and struggling to escape and see any value to anything I did.  To get myself through, I started making myself list something good about my day each night before I fell asleep, but it wasn't enough.  I could hardly sleep for the anxiety and anguish that I was experiencing.  I finally decided that my little mental lists weren't enough.  I had to commit to the idea that not only did I have numerous things to be happy about, but that the world itself had numerous good things to offer.  I approached my beautiful friend Jessica and asked if she would embark on this journey with me of discovering, writing, and thus capturing one good thing about each day for an entire year.

We picked out our journals within the week.  I'll post a picture with my next entry of what the back cover wound up looking like after a year of being thrown around and dragged to different states, and even to a different country. ;)

First and foremost, I'm pretty darn proud of myself.  I was struggling and in a bad place, and I made the effort to live myself out.  I took a positive action to change myself and my views, and for that, I find a sense of accomplishment.  And I only missed one day out of the whole year (which I promptly wrote the next morning upon discovering my mistake)!

My ultimate goal was to change my outlook on life pretty permanently, through repetition-- forming a habit of noticing the good things surrounding me.  I couldn't take journaling anymore, as I often focused on the bad and negative things, lamenting over their influence on me.  I had to relegate myself to only good things.  And it worked.  During the day, I'd latch onto all sorts of good things, wondering if they were going to make my OGTAD journal that night.  Rereading old entries, I knew there were some days that bad things really did happen, but all I have left are the positive memories I wrote.  I started approaching my days differently, especially if I knew they were going to be tough or stressful: I had to come away with something good for my journal, even if I had to create something good just to have an entry.

It was, in a word, amazing.  I was no longer a pawn being moved by the day.  I had to play an active part in each and every day, which I suspect is how I should have been living my life since it began.  But I'm glad I caught myself sooner rather than later.

So, I'm not entirely sure where I'll go from here.  Part of me wants to test myself and see if I can keep this frame of mind without having to resort to a journal every night.  Have I truly developed a skill and a permanent mindset of seeing the good in my days?  Of being able to identify what I'm thankful for at the end of each day, without letting the anxiety take over shortly thereafter?  I'm also scared that maybe the answer is no-- and I don't want to slip back to the bad place again.

My journal still has a few blank pages left, so I figure I'll keep writing until those are all used up.  Buy myself some more time to make my decision.  I don't know yet.  What I do know is that this past year has been an absolutely incredible one, and I'm so grateful to have a book of awesome memories to keep.  I have learned so much about my life, and about life in general.

Tomorrow or Friday, I think I'll share some of my favorite "good thing" entries.  Stay tuned! :)

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Spots of Happiness

It's a sleepy sort of Thursday at work for me.  What happens is, I get work to do in bursts and when it rains, it pours-- so I'm extremely busy for a couple of days.  Then I turn it in to my boss, who checks it and revises it and gives it back to me so I can make the actual revisions and do whatever the next steps are.  But in that limbo time when my boss has my work and I'm just waiting, there's nothing for me to do.

And, just like any good New Orleans afternoon should feature, the clouds roll in and build up and get dark, and in our mostly natural-light office, we find ourselves staring out the windows and thinking of naps (or at least, I do).

Normally I read whatever book I've brought, or mess around on Facebook or Tumblr, but because of how dark it's getting outside, I thought I'd share a little spot of happiness from yesterday that I'm honored to have been a part of.

I was on phone duty, and I got a call from a man who was explaining how the company he was with had just moved here to New Orleans after 30 years in Atlanta.  He was calling other local agencies to see if they were interested in forming partnerships or something along those lines.

"First of all," I said, "Welcome to New Orleans!  Secondly, let me go see if our vice president is available-- she'll be able to help you more with this than I will."

"Wow," he said, just as I went to put him on hold.  I stayed on the phone another moment.  "You're the first person who has welcomed us to the city!"

I chatted with him for a bit about how New Orleans really is a friendly city-- all the stuff I love about here-- and then transferred him.

Of course, it was the smallest of small moments, but he sounded genuinely happy.  I imagine he had been calling lots of places over the course of the day, and I imagine he'd been getting either very dry transfers or quick, "Sorry, we're not interested", followed by a goodbye.  I'm only imagining, though.  But I'm just glad that I was able to add a small spot of happiness to this man's day.

For as long as I can remember, it's been my goal to provide these spots of happiness to others.  I'm not talking about one random act of kindness a day-- I'm talking about constant acts of joy and kindness so that they're not random.  When it's a way of life, it's not relegated to just a chance occurrence.  When you constantly provide these spots of happiness, I like to think that all the spots come together and make a much bigger phenomenon of Goodness that help to dab out some of the darkness of the world.

Too philosophical and maybe even a bit maudlin?  Maybe.  Sorry.  I'm just thinking of how I can increase the spots that I attempt to add.  I hope you find yourself both giving and experiencing spots of your own, and of others.  I hope that I can provide you with some spots of happiness.  I hope this blog post makes you smile, and I hope that you, my friend, are having a wonderful day.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

BBC Book List

Well, if you haven't seen this list floating around at some point in your life, take a look!  I've truly been enjoying reading for leisure again this summer, so I dug out this list that I started crossing things off of in my senior year of high school.  I've been wanting to make a blog post about Ireland, but that will come later-- for now, here's a post just to prove I'm not dead and whatnot.  I think the BBC states that the average person will have read only 6 of these books, which sounds very low to me, because a lot of these books are only crossed off for me because I read them for high school.  Although, I suppose they assume some people don't actually read the books you're assigned in high school... so anyway... I think at this moment in my life, I've read 31 of them.

The bolded ones are books I've finished, and the italicized ones are ones I've either started and never finished or read only parts.  This list is a little odd-- the HP series is wrapped up as 1 book, as is LOTR, as is His Dark Materials, as is the Chronicles of Narnia-- and yet The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe is listed as a separate book-- so take it with a grain of salt!


1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
 24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy 
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel 
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett 
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert  
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery 
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo 


Any recommendations?