Alternate Realities

So apparently I am a fan of alternate reality fiction. Is it the fact that I'm not pleased with reality as it is, or that I see what it could be, or what I wish it would be? Some of my favorite alternate reality novels include: The Giver by Lois Lowry, Gate to Women's Country by Sherry Tepper, The Host by Stephanie Meyer, The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I guess some would actually consider some of these more as sci-fi than alternate reality, but isn't that what sci-fi is for us now? I enjoy how these novels comment on current societal trends and what's wrong with them, yet how the simple solutions people think would work, wouldn't. People really need to think things through before the start a "solution".

Seriously?

So, coming up on my 30th birthday, and maybe those of you who are married may not realize this (and I know most of you are since just my friends read this and most of my old friends are married), but why do most people insist on putting horrific pictures of themselves on dating sites? If all you're putting out there is a picture and writing, "I'll tell you later" or "Email me", don't you think the picture should a least do you justice? And if you're on an LDS dating site, don't put a picture of yourself in bar or with body piercings. Maybe I'm just too judgemental, but if a Mormon girl is on an LDS dating site and she sees those things, she's not gonna want you to "tell her later" and will probably just submit to her destiny as a Sheri Dew.

29, the age of a lifetime

What is so special about the age of 29? Why do women everywhere want to be thought of as being that age? If I could choose an age to be, I would pick 7. Yeah, I couldn't drive or buy a lottery ticket, but I wouldn't have to fend for myself , worry about rent or utilities, or avoid awkward situations where all 0ther people my age are married with kids and I have to go out to eat by myself to celebrate my birthday. But, tomorrow I turn 29, the age I will stay forever.

Coming Back

So, I haven't posted in over two years, but I'm feeling the need to write, possibly because I live by myself and have no one to talk to about the happenings of my life. It's interesting the things you feel the need to talk about when you have no one to talk to. For instance, a week and a half ago I started off my morning with the empty tank light coming on in my car. I figured I had enough gas to get me to work and to my chiropractic appointment and then I would stop and get gas on the way home. As I was driving from my appointment, my car started to skip (you know, the feeling when you're about to run out of gas), so I pulled into the next gas station I saw. There was a pretty long line, so I was sitting there idling for a while. Well, as I was sitting there, I ran out of gas. A friendly guy helped to push me next to the pump. As soon as I got out of my car, the attendant from the gas station came out and announced that the station was out of gas. I could not believe it! I told the attendant that I would half to leave my car at the station while I went to get gas. Then I walked about a half a mile to the nearest gas station. The men there were really nice, especially when they heard my story. One of them even asked if I was going to play the lottery that night, since the gas situation seemed so bad that a good thing had to happen and why not try for the lottery. They gave me a little one gallon gas can, and I walked the half mile back to my car at the other station. But the story doesn't end there. Unfortunately the gas can nozzle was not long enough to open the anti-syphon valve I have on my car, so I had to spend over 10 minutes emptying small amounts of gas into the pre-valve area and then pushing the gas can nozzle in far enough to slightly open the valve. It was a wonderful afternoon!

Songs of life

Recently I was reading a scrapbook magazine and they suggested making a scrapbook with the songs that have defined certain times of your life. Since I don't have time to do that, I thought I might just make a list here.

"You're So Vain"-- two and a half years old when this was playing on the radio. We were driving cross country, moving from New Mexico to Charlottesville. I didn't know what the song meant, but I sang it all the time.

"Beat It" -- in addition to other early Michael Jackson songs, I remember running around the gym in elementary school to this song.

"Walk Like An Egyptian"-- performed in 5th grade chorus concert for Grandparents' day, along with "The Rose"; I had an asthma attack before the performance because I was supposed to sing a solo and Heather-Rose told the substitute music teacher that she had sung the solo at the last concert so she should get to sing it. The drama of a fifth grade fat girl who has trouble breathing could not persuade the sub otherwise.

"Louis--Louis"-- though not really from my generation, this was the signature song of my middle school jazz band, for which I was the keyboard player all three years

"Criss-Cross'll Make You Jump"-- eighth grade field trips were not complete without hearing this song yelled by the "cool" kids in the back of the bus; we even had a "Criss-Cross" day for spirit week where everyone wore their clothes backwards to school

"Hounds of Spring", "Where never Lark nor Eagle Flew" and "The Ascension"-- favorite symphonic band compostions I played and soloed in during my stint as concert mistress in high school band

"Peaches"-- you remember that annoying song: "millions of peaches, peaches for me, millions of peahes, peaches for free"; for a time it seemed that this song was playing on my radio every morning when I woke up, causing it to be in my head for at least two thirds of the day

"Prelude in C# minor" (Rachmaninoff)-- my senior recital piece after ten years of private piano lessons with Ann May, the best piano teacher in the world

"Kate" (Ben Folds Five)-- obviously a favorite, I annoyed my freshman roommate in college by playing it over and over and over again

"Sleep" (BNL)-- put on my mix tape my roommate made me when I bought my car; it was one of my dad's favorites, and ironically the first song I heard the morning he died

"Wicked: The Musical" -- can not choose just one song; still haven't seen the show, but hope to sometime this year

So Many Ideas, So Little Time

Why is it that I love writing prompts, but never take the time to actually write from them? At the beginning of the year I tried to do one writing exercise a day, but that went the way of New Year's Resolutions and I now find myself longing to write, but too busy to even eat. I guess at least that might help with another of my resolutions. Will I ever have time to just write whatever I want? Will I be able to do the thing that so many have said I'm good at and that I should pursue? Is writing what I'm really supposed to do, or should I pick up another creative outlet and put writing aside? How do I use my creative energies when I don't have time to let them go? Will I be able to stop my addiction of buying creative writing helps or will they continue to congregate on my bookshelves, reminding me of my drowned ambitions? Hopefully this blog will let me release some of what I need to let go.