Secret Santa

You know when you have an idea and it just wont’ go away?

I have that with a secret santa item. I’m not good at drawing, painting, photoshopping, knitting or sewing, but I have the ideas like I should be. I have these amazing ideas that would look hilarious, or wonderful, on a canvas, in a picture, or knitted, but when I start to do it it comes off at a 50% rate as opposed to the 90% idea that I have.

It’s even more apparent how badly I am because I live with someone who is amazing at these things. One of the items I painted one side and she painted the other, and I tried really hard to do it well, and it is a 180 difference.

I remember my art teacher’s would look at me say “Interesting…” and walk away. You know because my idea was good, but my execution is terrible. I don’t understand why that can be possible…aren’t people with creative idea automatically supposed to be amazing at something artistic?



Writer’s conflict

Today I had an urge to write my story, but honestly I have no idea what I have already. I have written many things down and I need to re-type everything into one place in order to know exactly what needs to be done. It’s difficult to do that because there are so many stories sitting next to me.

Sometimes I think I should just start over, but then I realize how much effort I put into my writing, and that it is actually the skeleton. I have a skeleton of a novel that I’m trying to create organs and muscles. It’s hard to do that when the femur isn’t connected to the hip.

Maybe I don’t have the passion for this? Is that why I’m unable to finish my story? Is that what happens with motivation and laziness. Even though I have gone back to this constantly and over time and I seem to have a passion for it, maybe I actually don’t….maybe my brain is subconsciously telling me that every time my wrist hurts from typing, or I can’t find the next word in a sentence.

Maybe…this isn’t about motivation, but about finding the right passion.

That would be really sad though, because I’ve been wanting this since I was a child. I’ve been wanting to write for since I was eight years old. I was told by people that I needed to change my path because I’m not a good enough technical writer. My grammar needs work and my transitions need to be more fluid. Maybe all the non-constructive critique gets into my psyche at times and makes me stop writing. That is what’s happening now…

I just have to sit up – get my fingers on a writing instrument and ignore the thoughts that go through my mind. Ignore those insecurities that will always stay with me, and that probably stay with everyone. Listen to my favorite authors and just write – write – write.

That’s easy to say, but will I be able to do it?

Money is life?

Money has always been a sore subject for many people. There are people who wish to have it, those who need it, and those who have too much of it. Each of these categories seem to not understand the stresses of the others, because how can someone understand a certain stress if they do not experience it themselves?

I’m the type of person who has been in all three categories, however I had been told that I’m on the the “those who wish to have it” category most of my life. One of my old friends told me that I couldn’t understand her because I was never poor and she was. Another old friend said that I got everything I wanted because, essentially, I was in a rich family.

The thing was…I wasn’t really. When I was younger my mother was on the poverty line and she was getting child support. The things that I wanted to get were not expensive, because I rarely asked for expensive things until I was a teenager…I got what I wanted, and was given amazing clothes for christmas, but I was never rich. We lived in a comfortable environment…and that’s it.

Money is not life….money is a way to exist in society. Money is a way to barter with people – but you don’t always know what a person is actually experiencing until you get to know them. A person can understand poverty even though they appear to be rich, because they may have been in it as a child. A person can understand being rich even though they are homeless. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover and please stop using money as a way to measure life and happiness.

Word Sounds

I told my friend about this blog and he said he wanted me to write about words. Specifically words like Moist, Succulent and Salivate. These are words that he enjoys saying and hearing, but many people do not enjoy the sound.

I feel similar to the masses…I do not like the way Moist and Succulent sound, or the way it’s being said in my mouth. I think I understand why many people dislike the word Moist…possibly because it sounds like it’s definition. Is it really the way the letters sound, or is it because we don’t like the feeling of it when we’re describing and object?

So…I looked up rhymes. I found that Joist and Foist gave me a weird feeling in my mouth, but Hoist, Rejoiced and Voiced do not.  However…none of them make me feel weird and make me want to wince for saying it. So…I believe that it might be the definition that is causing the reaction rather than the actual ways it’s being said.

Then we have words like Succulent. Again in the definition of the word we see “moist and tasty” or “Juicy”. Personally I haven’t heard the word that often, except when an evil character in a movie was saying that something was just so succulent. You know…being manipulatively nice. So, the reason I dislike that word is because of who used it. The fictional characters that gave me the creeps, and so now I make that connection. Wince city.

The brain is wired from individual experiences, memories, and genes. Through our experiences we create responses to something and we might not even understand why, until we sit down and think about it. The way that words sound could be because of our memories, and the association we have with that word.

I think that would be way cooler than anything else.



The first thing that I think when I hear the word “Dreams” is when I sleep. The dreams that explain my week, and can give me insight on my life. But these aren’t the dreams I should be focusing on…I should be focusing on other definition of dreams. Where I want to go in my life, and what I want to be. Those are the dreams I need to follow, but these dreams require more than just myself.

There are two major things I’ve always wanted to be in my life: An Author and A Mother. The mother part is easier but I wanted to be a young mother. Someone who had her first child at 19 or 20…but that didn’t happen. Now I’m in a part of my life where I feel I’m getting to old to be a mother, or that if it hasn’t happened now…then it won’t happen. Also, there is a thing about needing to find that man, or $30,000, to get pregnant.

The second one is easier to do by myself. A few years ago I went to a therapist because I need to learn to become motivated. One of the things she asked me was “How do we know when we’re done?” I responded with when I was able to write a novel. I was unable to afford the sessions after a while, because my insurance was gone, but I did learn a lot from it. I think one of the things I learned is how much I wanted to write for a living.

I remember as a child writing silly stories about a flower, and having an idea about a woman falling in love with her servant – but history made it difficult to be together. I had ideas in my head for years, and stories about all of these different people and places. At the same time I was having these stories I was getting told how difficult it would be to become a writer. How people will reject you over and over again, and it’s better to find a backup plan.  I was also told that I shouldn’t major in English by my guidance counselor while my Spanish teacher told me I should become a writer. That was confusing for a high schooler…and made me re-consider my dream.

Finding that backup plan became the rest of my life. I wanted to be a teacher, midwife, youtuber, veterinarian…etc. etc. I would still write on the sidelines, but it never became full time. My motivation was to find a foundation for the mother I wanted to be. To find a job that I semi-liked in order to find a man that would get me my first dream. Every couple of times a year I would start to realize how sad I was, and how I wasn’t focusing on what I really wanted to do…and write. Then I would go back to my backup plan, because it was so hard to see the future.

It’s scary to follow those dreams that are not always stable. Those dreams that need other people to make it happen. A writer needs an audience to get anywhere and the only way to do that is through patience, motivation, determination, and doing it all even though there will be rejection and negativity. I’m getting there…again.