The Good Samaritan goes to Town

It all started with a simple but dreaded question:

"Can you do me a favor?"

Ryan stops his hobbling trek across the living room as I pass inociently by on the way back to my room to return to accounting for a royal Erish wedding. I grimace but it's gone by the time I turn around. "What?"

"Can you go get my a Gatorade? I got way overheated out mowing with Jordan."

Crap. That requires driving. And going outside which lately makes it really hard for me to breath. Plus I'm wearing a skirt with tennis shoes and a t-shirt that are good for being sick around the house but not so great to be seen in public. I have no make up, my hair was brushed this morning but could stand another run through and I generally look as crappy as I feel. But it doesn't take that long to run to a gas station.

I heave a big sigh but put my big-girl face on. "I guess."

Before I got out the door, it turned into a get a pizza while you're out since we're both hungry. Since I had been nosing about the kitchen, I couldn't deny it. I troop out to my car which does it's normal protest of not wanting to start. On the third try, it sputters. I'm pretty sure my car hates driving as much as I do.

I take my foot off the break and it begins backing on it's own - faster than it's normal pace. But when I hit the gas... nothing happens. It's going five miles an hour with it all the way down. I turn on the block away from my intended direction to see if it'll smooth out. It gains speed, going in bursts, not wanting to stop and then sluggishly protesting to go.

I take it around the block and repark it. Can't go. I'll have to find food here and Ryan will have to live without. So I go inside and Ryan asks if I can take Dad's car. I refuse because I feel like I'm gonna crash that car every time I drive it. So he goes down and get's grandma's keys and an order for a second pizza. After sorting out the money from Ryan from the money from pop from my money in my wallet, I go down to grandma's car. Which I can't get the seat to go forward. It's one of those, can't reach the gas pedal days when you feel like you got trapped in a video game where random people shoot from buildings and other cars try to run you over. My perception is off, making things even harder. So I go between imagining Andrew's first meeting on the streets of New York where the fastest car is a total of 30 mph, to complaining to the dashboard how much I hate driving.

I get to the pizza place, heading inside, ordering two pizza's then frowning as I look through my wallet. Ryan gave me a twenty and I have fifty 1.00 bills. Not really what I feel like paying with. I remember I stuck the other money in the back, so I pull it out and pay. Then go back to thinking about Andrew who's not nearly as bothered by cars or people or being poor and looking ragged as I am.

I spot a gas station that is easy to get to and will put me on the back roads to get home and pull in, searching for a place to park. I find one behind the store where the wind is blocked and the wall blows out hot air into the already sweltering weather. I go in, get the gatorade that started it all and the man points out there's a two for one special. So I get another. Ryan won't mind having two and he already said I could get one for myself. Which is funny because yesterday I was DYING to have one but waaaay too sick to go anywhere and I didn't want to ask anyone or inconvience them.

So I went without.

I leave the gas station and get back in the car, putting the drinks by the pizza, the key in the ignition and...

It sputters.

Great. I take a breath and try it again. It sputters - only less this time than last.

"Really? Really???"
I'm almost home. Almost done with this mission I never wanted to do in the first place.

It gives a pathetic attempt and gives up.

I look at the sky. "Please God. Heal this car. I need it to work."

This time it hardly responds at all.

I laugh hopelessly, then head back into the nice man at the station. See, the other part of this story started at 7:00 this morning when my phone buzzed and informed me that because of a low balance my service is being cut off. Apparently whatever credit card my parents had it on has expired or something. But they didn't answer their phone so I don't have mine.

The Valero man explains their phone is tied in and there are no payphones. I ask if there's anywhere nearby that has one.

"H.E.B."

"Thanks." I step out and look around. H.E.B isn't nearby. And it's hot. And I can't breath outside in the first place.

I go back to the car, say another prayer and try it. In this case, praying is about as helpful as cussing. I go across the street to search out H.E.B. I'm only about 7-10 miles from the house. If I eat some of that pizza, I might have a chance to make it to H.E.B.... Wherever that is.

A lady comes out in a suit who looks like she might have a cell phone on her and be willing to help the little creature in the parkinglot out. She says there's one in the building and points to the funiture store. I go there, pull on the door and nothing happens.

Maybe they're closing. Maybe she thought I was going to hold her at gunpoint. Maybe it's the other door. I try the second door and she rolls down her window, pointing to the first. I try it again. Nothing happens. She makes jerking movements and I yank on it. It opens and cool air hits my face. Inside there's a man in front of the counter and a man behind.

I ask if I can use the phone, trying to remember my grandmother's number. For some reason the middle part always jumbles in my brain. It takes me about three tries before the call goes through because I hit the wrong button or it went through twice instead of once. I finally ask for the area code because I'm not sure I'm getting it right anyway. But I am and the phone rings and rings until the friendly man that always answers on the machine informs me no one is available to take my call.

"Hi guys. It's Lindsey. I'm broken down at the Valero across from the theater. If someone can come get me, that would be great..."

I hang up and thank the man who looks worried at the flustered little vegabond before him. "They never answer," I say. "They'll come."

Then head back out to the hot car. Where "Everything happens for a reason" pops into my head. But I'm pretty sure this isn't a devine appointment as much as somebody didn't do something right with the car reaction. It's hot. I munch pizza that doesn't taste good.

Then go to the front of the station so they can see me.

What if they didn't hear? What if Grandma's still downstairs and Ryan's in his room and Pop's asleep....

Minutes tick by. I get tired of hanging around the front corner of the store and head back to the car. It's hot. Especially back where I parked. I eat some more pizza so I'll stop shaking. It still doesn't taste good.

Then turn on the radio to try and calm myself. It's some dude singing about what he's going to do to me once he gets me on the floor and I flick it off. I'm standing on street corners here. I don't need any reminders.

I go back to the front until I get tired of looking like a flustered Pentecostal who forgot to brush her hair and only owns one pair of shoes. And the gas fumes make it hard to breath. What if I have an astma attack on top of this?

I go back to the car and flip through the stations. I'm about to flick it off again when I hear a phone ring. It seems a weird place for a cermercial but there's no phones in...

It rings again and something glows from the middle of the car. I pull it out to see "Home" flashing on my grandpa's cell phone.

I laugh in this exasperated, "you've got to be joking" way. I pick it up and Ryan tells me Grandpa's coming in Dad's car.

So I go back to the front where he can see me and stand for what feels at least ten minutes. I call back to make sure he knows where the place is and Grandma says he just left because he couldn't find keys or - something.

So I wait and wait and return to the car. He shows up, my knight in shining armor. There's no jumper cable in the trunk. He explains he looked in all the other cars at home (except mine because he didn't have a key to my trunk - which is where one is). So we go to the Sugar Shack and steal one of Rocky's. Only it still won't start because the cable is shot. So we go back to the sugar shack, drop off his keys. I decide Ryan's only getting one Gatorade and start drinking the other.

And my brother calls me as we pull into the drive to ask how it's going. I answer I'm in the front yard and he hangs up. Pop grins. "He just wants to know where the pizza is."

I smirk. "I thought of that already. I figured even if you didn't hear the machine somebody would notice I was gone because they'd be hungry." I just wasn't sure how they'd find me at the Valaro.

So I meet my brother at the top of the stairs who says he's "SOOO sorry all that happened." And receives a dry, 'Yeah me too," and cold pizza.

So now I have a half-drunk Gatorade beside me, my poor grandfather is out in the sweltering heat trying to get "the good" car going. Oh well. At least I don't have rehearsal tonight.

Week 3, DAY 2 EVENING

I began the first account of a Royal Erish wedding - or any Erish wedding for that matter - today. I wrote for a bit, getting all sentimental (or maybe I was channeling the parents of the bride) before I had to get ready for the CYT meeting. I met with Sandi about this summer's camp. I'm doing Lion King - which I've seen a total of once in my life. Getting home from that, I teased with Lauren in the kitchen. Grandma promised (again) to cut my hair today and we were going to do a photo shoot for my book for the paper.

So to get Grandma off the phone, Lauren and I picked up the ends of our hair and waved them as we danced in and out of the room in front of Grandma. (Yes, we're in a house of drama freaks.)

It worked.

I finanally got my hair cut. It's been over a year and I've been trying since January. Don't panic. We only took off about three inches of damage and touched up the layers. Then we curled it and did my makeup and - it was time for rehearsal.

So I looked dang good at rehearsal. I brought my book to show my fellow actors and two said they're going to go to Hastings this week and buy them. Hope Hastings actually pulled them back out... *whistles at ceiling*. We're going to have a float in the parade (one of the biggest in Texas, I hear - though most of it's random cars with nothing on them...lol. Or trucks. We like showing off trucks in the parade apparently.") Anyhow... I'm trying to remember the last time I was in a parade. I think it was for winning the bronze star award in 4-H that I honestly had no clue what I did to get. It was hot. Terribly hot and I spent a good majority with my head on my knees, melting in sweat.

This will be different, of course.

Though parades are really funny things if you think about it. People lining up to see other people going down the street....

Anyway. It's too late for rambling.

I got to rehearsal and we did the go-go scene. The entire time. I spent the last hour running down the isle and doing this fast dance with lots of jumping and shaking and spinning (I get dizzy super easy.) And when I wasn't doing that I was waiting in the back to run on. James has discovered if he pokes me, I'll jerk. If he grabs me, I'll nearly run into chairs trying to get away. And if he wrestles me... well, he thinks I should learn self-defense.

I'm just going to say I wasn't really trying to hurt him.

So Jenn, James and I all worked on self-defense and watched him jump up from laying on the ground in Jacki Chann (sp?) style. But mostly we ran and danced. I'm rethinking doing that song in heeled boots.

Oh. I discovered something else today. I can indeed do a cartwheel.

This is amazing. Last time I tried I had a seven and eight year old version of my cousins laughing their heads off and then showing me how to do it. And I couldn't catch on.

After rehearsal I made my escape - or tried. My car took five or six times before it died on me. Even when I got it going, it wasn't always registering that I was pushing the gas pedal and just kind of - sat there.

So that was a bit scary. I got home and burned my grilled cheese talking to Jess. Now I'm sleepy. It's an hour after I'm supposed to be in bed.

And 6:00 is coming early. I can't believe that dream was one I had last night. It seems like I crammed in two days into one. And tomorrow will be busier. I still have that photo shoot. I need to make my advertisement for the program. I have another CYT meeting from 1-3 and rehearsal from 6-10.

And somewhere in there I need to walk and write an Erish wedding and...

other stuff I can't remember.

So good night dear readers!

Week 3, Day 2

"And today we're going to see Cheapside," my aunt says.

I grin at Sarah and we quote together, "I hear she has an uncle, who lives in Cheapside. Inwardly, I'm so excited to be in England and especially so close to where Jane Austin set all of her novels. We're in Bath - my entire family and Grandparents and an Aunt and Uncle that live there and the Jinkins family.

We go for a walk, listening to my aunt talk about the country until we pass a old graveyard. I point. "Is there anyone famous in there?"

"I'm not sure. I've never been in there," my aunt says.

I grin and turn into the gate, "If I lived right down the street, I'd probably know where everyone was."

And somehow - I do. Not everyone, but it's like as soon as I read the name or date on a stone, I know who the person was and what they did for a living. There are modern dates. A few from WWII. And one that I squint at. "Does that say 1240????"

"No." Ryan says. "It's 1840."

"Oh," I pass the tombstone up, "I didn't see it that well, I guess."

But something's not right in this place. When I look at the words, they're fuzzy before they clear up. 1840 is just a few years after Texas won its independence but I don't know what was going on in England.

"Oh, look, Jami," I point. "There's some pictures."

Actually there's an area with a few stones that have portraits on them and I steer that way to see. A man's portrait lays on top of a trunk and I breifly wonder what's inside before I'm studying his picture as I walk past.

He was a bankrobber type whose dressed like a gentleman with a large tophat and a white ruffle at his neck. He's smiling. But as I walk by, eyes following him - his eyes begin to follow me. The smile fades until he is sending the absolute blackest stare I've ever seen.

That - is creepy. And only Jami who's on the other side of me, looking the other way keeps me from freaking out. Still, I quicken my steps and reach for her hand. We can't go back out toward the gate without passing him again, so I tug her further into the yard to make a long circle back around.

My aunt's golden retriever bounds after us, grabbing the edge to my dress in it's teeth to tug me back toward the gate. Then it jumps onto my back, pinning me to the ground. Now I do panic in earnest. When I get the animal off me I call that I thought we ought to head back to the house.

We do and find my uncle preparing his sermon for the next day. My heart is racing so I walk around the house, where my Grandmother says she wants to take the stray dog home to replace her old one. Only I don't remember her having a dog or even liking them.

Then I return to the livingroom where Jami is saying, "But it was moving! I saw it! The man in the picture looked at me!"

"He couldn't have looked at you. That sort of thing doesn't happen. Ghosts aren't real," says my uncle.

I swallow, heart sinking. "Actually - I saw it too. It was moving. He was looking. I just - didn't say anything because I didn't think Jami saw."

My uncle looks disturbed.

"I've heard other people say they've seen things there," my aunt says.

I leave the room. I don't want to know. Then I talk to the pretty English girl that's been picked up by my grandparents who want to take her home with them.

"You'll like America," I say, sitting on the bed.

"Actually, I'm not going." Her eyes sparkle. "I got a job as a teacher. I'm going to start this Fall."

"Oh, you'll like that," I say.

My phone buzzes from it's place on the table. The girl is sitting between me and it so I point. "Oh, can you hand me that. It's Val. She's my friend from America."

"Oh no. It was my phone." The girl - who's dressed like a maid from the 1800's pulls out her phone to look through it. I'm pretty sure that particular buzzing is what mine does but getting to it would require climbing over the girl's lap.

"Oh no it's not," she says. "No one called."

"It's mine."

She hands me my phone and I flip it open.

I finished that book u told me I'd like. It was long and hard to read but I did like it.

Oh. That book. The one about the maid going to work for two brothers in the English countryside. It had been good till it got to the part about the man in the portraite. Then I stopped reading it. But I didn't remember telling her she'd like it. Actually. I haven't talked to this particular friend in years. She's from the fanfiction site.

Oh. Yeah, that one got weird. Sorry.

It did get weird. She ended up courting the brother and he was only like fourteen. I liked it before that part.

My phone buzzes again and this time I wake up. Finding myself in a bed in America and it IS Val who's doing the buzzing.

I check the phone for real.

Awake?

Or stuck in sleep....?

I type. I am awake... Sorta.

I sway. The room is dark. Last thing I knew I was trying to sleep over the laughter of family and friends watching "Nomeo and Juliette" in the other room. Then - it's morning before I even know I fell asleep. And dang it, I'm not in England anymore. Which means there's no creepy ghost guy either. I feel slightly better.

I was very sleepy because I don't remember putting on my shoes at all. But when I get outside, I tell Val my dream, swearing that I haven't been watching or reading or thinking anything ghost related. I'm walking down the road when a movement catches my eye and a skunk crosses the road ahead of me.

I gasp. "Oh there's a skunk!"

I watch the critter who's pretty docile and used to people, but I still give it the right away. I'm sleepy and jumpy and not making a lot of sense but I chose the non-skunky road to continue my walk on. I've switched subjects before I gasp. "THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"

How many are there? And now there's one both sides of me.

"They're - coming up from the river, right by the haunted house," I say.

The haunted house is named by my cousin because of the long stairs going to a gothic type door and the rounded look of the house. It was built just before the last flood. I've been inside. It's set up weird with stairs leading to tiny rooms that are hardly level with each other, random lofts in the room and something that looks like a stage for kids.

It's a weird house. What's stranger is that people actually buy it when they hardly buy any homes down here in the flood zone. But they only stay a few months and then it's back on the market.

So it's known as the haunted house and "OH MY GOSH THERE'S A LIGHT ON!"

A tiny room in the top corner of the side wall lights like a beacon into the dusky morning when most other houses are still dark.

So my words come out more like, "There's a skunk! They're coming from the river by the haunted house and OH MY GOSH, THERE'S A LIGHT ON!"

I start sucking in breathes and then start laughing. "I don't know what's wrong with me today..."

"I don't either," Val says, giggling. "You're not usually the one to freak out."

But I'm not really awake either and it takes will to go another round so I can make two miles. Then I cook breakfast, eating by myself and head into my room to read my Bible. Back to Job. Almost to the part where God starts speaking and things get good. And three chapters in, my eyes are droooooping...

I'm falling asleep. Must stay awake. I have awesome scenes to write. I get up. Must stay - whoa, dizzy....

I turn out my light and crash in the bed.

Must stay awake... I'm going to regret this. I'll probably be just as tired when I wake up as...

Images of Tehveor and what I'm supposed to be writing float through my head as my thoughts begin taking on lives of their...

MUST STAY AWAKE!
Nah. I'm not going to get anything done.

I begin feeling like Karl and I wonder if he's falling asleep on the couch leaving poor Thacia all....

MUST STAY....

Erik comes into my brain and I realize all of these charecters are the ones who are taking it easy for the moment - most recovering from some illness or waiting for life-saving treatment or...

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

My phone is going off again. I roll over. It's been about 15 minutes since I first turned out the light. It's Val again asking if I can email something later.

May as well do it now and try to wake up so I can get stuff done.

Val. You're my salvation.

So I email her. Then answer with the next piece of Rome where Malcomb and Felix have just found their younger brother and the slave he's trying to berid of.

Then write for the James family all sitting around the table - except for Karl who's on the couch.

And then I think if I don't write my blog now, I'm going to forget it since I hardly remember much of this morning. Except skunks. And Buzzing cell phones.

And now...

I'm still sleepy.

Week 3, Day 1

Today I woke at 7:40, read my Bible in Job and found myself confused. I can't wait to get to the part where God's talking because half of what the four guys are saying sounds logical to me and the other half sounds like blubbering. It's been a long time since I read that book.

I walked 2.27 miles and stretched a bit. I found it harder today - probably because of a certain four-year-old who's very cute but weighs as much as I do jumping on my back rapidly in succession yesterday just before he spit on me...

Showered, cleaned the sink and toilette, picked up my room. Ate random things for breakfast and breakfast food for lunch...

And wrote a mock newspaper article for "The Calling." Val is going to help me revamp it and give it an outsiders view. I've been throwing back and forth ideas with the grandparents about ways to get the word out and make the book available in different places so people can easily access them. I found Inews with CNN where people can submit their own stuff so I'm looking into doing that.

Today I'm hoping to write an introduction to my book to film within the next few days to put on youtube and facebook. I'm also going to take a copy along to rehearsal to show my fellow actors whom I've been talking to about writing.

It's hard to keep the ball rolling in one spot while you focus on another. But I'm learning. Every book that comes out is going to make things easier.

Goals for this Week

Morning:

Walk 2 miles with Val.

à Bible read

à Vitamin

à Face washed/dressed/hair

à Bathroom cleaned

à Breakfast made

à Kitchen cleaned

à Room cleaned

à 2 hour or 4000 words of “The Captive”

à 1 hour publicity for “The Calling.”

Night:

à Face washed

à Teeth brushed

à Room picked up

à Chapter read

à Bed by 10:30

It’s my goal this week to incorporate regular house cleaning AND to finish the first draft of “The Captive!”

Five days – lots of Erish events to wrap up.

Can she do it???

So this week I hope to:

A. put up a video introducing my book to the world.

B. Put up a video reading the first chapter of the book to the world.

C. Set up at least one more book signing somewhere.

Friday Night

I worked for hours on rewriting "The Captive". I have two drastically different endings for King Galaphy. And I like them both for different reasons. It's hard to know which one to keep. I may have to somehow work in other viewpoints to cover or - something.

Anyway. I've had a good day. Except my computer fan quit. It didn't break or snag. It just - got really hot without spinning. Hmmmm.

I'm torn on sleeping in tomorrow or getting up early. Some days I'm sleepy all day and some I'm not. It doesn't seem to have much to do with the waking time as much as how long I stay asleep at night. But I seem to get off to a better start when I stick with the routine.

Which... I just realized I broke anyway because it's 10:41.

But tonight... I'm on a writing roll. So I will write.

These sort of days don't come often enough.

Friday

Today... I didn't get up at 6:30. I went back to sleep. I got up at 8:30 and worked in the garden. Then helped Ryan clean the house. Then worked for several hours on reading through "Across the Distance" again only getting through about 13 pages. Hmmm...

Anyway, I'm in a fairly good mood. The Johovah Witness's came back and we talked about um... how people just die and don't go to Heaven or Hell. Then at the Judgment Day (which is really a thousand years reign) they come back and get to prove themselves humble enough and obey Christ without the influence of Satan to stay in the New World (which is really the old world restored without being burned.)

The problem was... it threw me off so badly, I couldn't think of any way to prove that we die and go to Heaven (or Hell). I did point out that if we got that second chance, then it was our actions that saved us and obliterated Christ's death and salvation which they pointed out was what gave us that chance. When I pointed out it was by faith and not works, they got off on the bunny trail of how without works to prove our faith to God, we weren't really saved because if we keep sinning and saying we're sorry, we're really not saved.

Or something like that. It was confusing and I kept praying for God to give me words to say but I didn't really hear anything. Anyway. We'll see. I love Christianity but I hate getting tied up in debates over theology.

Now I think I'm going to work on "The Captive." And I need to come up with more ways to advertise "The Calling." Any ideas, anyone?

Night

I had a great day. Really. I stayed in a good mood. I got a little bit of "The Captive" written. Then made supper and went to rehearsal, where I grew excited and hyper and all inspired to get cracking on Swing and get that into the spantacular play that it will be. And I need to go to bed soon so I need to start winding down.

That's gonna be a trick. But I can't wait for tomorrow morning.

3:22

I walked another 1.43 of a mile just putting the groceries away and taking the compost to the garden. I'm not sure how much I did grocery shopping because it restarted. But yes. I've been to get groceries, cleaned out the fridge, took out the compost and loaded the dish washer. I stole Ryan's old phone cord to charge my phone (yay for big brothers!) and I STILL HAVE NOT WRITTEN ONE WORD ABOUT KAEL.

However I did get my book signing scheduled so that counts for something. I have rehearsal in about three hours. And amazingly - I'm still in a great mood. I've been listening to sermons allll day as I've been doing the above things. So even though my feet hurt and I'm hoping we don't have a high energy rehearsal tonight and I need to make supper before I go... things are going well.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

I finally got back from my trip and started today to get back on track on the schedule. Beginning with waking at 4:55 - the same time I did the other day. I lay in bed for a bit, then read my Bible, then turned the light back out, finally began to feel as though I could drift off and... the phone buzzed. It was 5:45.

I walked 2.19 miles, jogging the last leg home for about 37 minutes. I listened to Doug's sermons while stretching. I had soupy oatmeal and wrinkled blueberries for breakfast (we're low on groceries) and was sure to clean the kitchen and unload the dishwasher so it would stay nice because Grandma worked on it all night. (Yay!)

Then I went to the garden to water it but it looked pretty damp so I left it. Got some laundry sorted and into the wash.

The sermons I've been listening to lately all seem to play into the same theme of A: not depending on our actions to gain salvation/favor with God. B: Obeying and letting him direct my life because he can do a better job of it anyway, which has led me to conclusion C: It actually excites me to stop trying to do all the things "good Christians" do because that's what's expected. When I used to try to dress right, talk right, go to church, give, memorize scripture, be always ready with answers for everything instead of admitting that I was still learning, watch everything I did, said, thought, it only made me worry and angry when I thought I was doing right and my life fell apart anyway. When people I was closest to seemed to shun me the moment I strayed from the "model of Christianity" and I shunned those who were living in sin like some sins were worse than others. After everything happened, I wanted nothing to do with it enough to turn against those who represented these things to me.

Now. I want to live in obedience to Christ. I want to hear what He says, to let Him direct my life and choices. I want to have His blessing on my life, not because I'm "working" for it or because I am squishing myself into the mold of what I think he wants, but because I'm listening to Him and I develop enough trust to realize He's not going to hurt me or led me into miserable circumstances just to make me prove that I'm serious or prove to me that I can't ever please him no matter how hard I try so there's no point in even trying. Because I'm NOT good enough for Him and he's not judging me on whether or not I am.

Am I scared? Yes. Do I worry where He might take me or lay out my life? Yes. Do I believe I'm going to obey him 100% of the time because I've decided to follow him? No. Do I have all this figured out? Nope.

Am I excited let God come in and address my unbelief, bitterness, fears and sin? Yep. Does the idea of having definite answers for the direction my life should be going send a sense of relief? Yes.

Because if God's got my life under control and I'm obeying His plans for it, I don't have to worry about money or where I should be working for a job, or if I'm not being social enough or if there's something wrong with me or if I'm going to have to drop my standards to find any potential husband or if said husband is going to be old and have fifty girlfriends before he finds me or if he's spent the last twenty some-odd years cooped up in his house studying to be a preacher and never meeting another girl. I don't have to fret that I'm 24 and not being a responsible American working over-time and driving a bright, new, shiny car with a super-hot boyfriend and hair that I spent three hours straightening. Or that I'm a stay-at-home writer who's living with her grandparents so she can teach part-time at an acting school for kiddos and has next to a panic attack at the thought of driving somewhere to meet new people, desperately hoping that will make her "normal" between the times that she's spending probing into the lives of imaginary people.

The hardest thing I'm doing now is getting my brain to think about anything besides God and His will.

Noon:

I headed down to the river to write a scene for Kael but got distracted listening to the sermon. God was still showing me quite a bit and I began typing out thoughts and things that the preacher said. Just after he changed topics about God being our safe harbor, I spied something from the corner of my eye and thought a stick was floating down the river. But it was wiggling about a foot from where my feet dangled. A thick diamond-backed, 15 inch snake. I gasped and scrambled onto the dock, watching it crawl onto the boat ramp and finally go into a crack, only to pop its head out again. It promptly tucked itself back in as I stepped down to walk back to the house after my heartrate returned to normal. I’m not normally freaked by snakes but this one really startled me, I was so intent on my work.

Then I began a new story that popped into my head - not a novel to be worked on every day but an inspired story that may help me work out what God's been teaching me.

The head of the library board contacted me and we set up the book signing for July 19th in Sweeny. I got her the things she requested and finished up a bit more of the story. Now I'm going to make lunch (Good thing I said I'd eat three times a day because I'm tempted to just skip or graze) and then I THINK I might actually be able to sit down and write for "The Captive". Mwaa-haa!

Day 4

Yesterday I checked on the website that is finally up and running. I edited "The Captive" and "Across the Distance" - the latter of which is NEARLY ready for publishing! (Thanks to my editor Val.) Then went to rehearsal where I sat for the majority of it and recruited two of the ladies to try out for Great Escape if we do it here. Elaine told me there's an Irish step dancing group that meets twice a month in San Antonio so I may look into that. I came home so wound up and didn't get to bed until 11:30. Then I woke at 4:55 and never managed to get back to sleep. I went on a walk, just over two miles today, watered the garden, made breakfast and cleaned the kitchen including mopping/scrubbing the floor with a rag. Now I'm going to make a list of things I need to do for the trip.

I'll be leaving this afternoon. We'll see if I can get everything done or not.

Day 3 - 4:00ish

I swayed in front of the computer, trying to decide on what to work on. Jess helped me out by choosing "Across the Distance". I revised the first chapter to make Scarlet a bit sweeter and fell in love with Andrew and Vincent all over again in the second.

Then I went on a walk, listening to the "Roots" series. It was hot and I took the shortest route. Now I'm back. I should work on "The Captive" or getting ready for the trip tomorrow. I'm still pretty mentally tired...

Not sure how I'm going to get through rehearsal tonight.

Day 3 - Thursday - Afternoon

The day started out great. I woke, looked at my clock to find it was 5:45 and thought, "Did I wake up ONCE last night??"

I don't think I did. Which meant I'd been asleep since about 10:20 because I turned out my light early and crashed. I walked over two miles this morning. I wouldn't give up any amount of sleep for making breakfast with Pop this morning. I was frying an egg, he was making oatmeal. Then Tyler got up and told us of his "Zelda" dream and Pop teased the life out of him over that. I took a shower and cleaned my room, realizing that I was running ahead of time. It was great!

I passed the living room where Tyler was laying on the couch and he asked (again), "Lindsey? Are you ever going to marry?"

"If anybody asks and I like him," I answer.

"I don't think you will," he says. Then grins. "I think you're just going to get old."

"You don't think I can get a man?"

He looks at me and scrunches his nose. Then replies, "Well, don't worry. You can marry any book you want. Or your cat."

Sigh. If only you COULD marry your book characters....

Then I remembered I needed to water the garden before the sun got too high. So I went out there and worked, listening to a sermon - then decided to scratch the shecdule for now and keep listening. Then I started praying in my room. I was waiting for guidance, opening myself up for anything God had in mind. He did a little. Then I waited again, reminding myself not to be impatient.

And waited, trying not to let my thoughts take over and dictate or go on bunny trails.

And then - it happened.

I fell asleep.

And woke. And fell asleep again. And woke. And went back to sleep.

And woke at 1:00.

So now... I need to finish eating lunch and I haven't even started my writing work for the day. I need to make concrete plans with Rachel and get ready for the trip tomorrow. And I have rehearsal tonight.

And I'm really hazy and dizzy.

.

Day 2 - Night

I worked on listing "The Captive" until Sarah came to visit. We ran errands, then worked on shower things. Took Ginger to the vet. Worked more on shower things, put up a few more lists, ate supper and helped Sarah and Ryan clean the kitchen.

So that's my report.

Day 2 - afternoon

I edited an hour on "The Calling" between laundry loads. I was working on putting an ad for 'The Calling" in a free classified ad section when Sarah popped by. We ran some errands, she did the centerpiece for the shower (yay for artistic sisters!) while I tied kisses up in little bags until there were no more.

Then we took Ginger to the vet, to come back home and finish up the center piece. I folded the clean laundry, finished putting the ad on the site and now I sit, still needing to finish up the "working" hours.

My Bible didn't come in the mail today. I'm starting to think it got lost....

And... I'm still slightly sleepy but I think I won the battle over going back to bed...

Day 2 - Wednesday

Last night I climbed in bed with a few minutes to spare and reached for "The Shadow Within". Flipping through to find my place I went too far, then not far enough, then finally found my place. I was just thinking, "Aha! Here it is." When my phone buzzed letting me know it was time to turn out the light.

I did. I'd already drank the fizzy herbal concoction and felt fuzzy and relaxed and then...

A man came in my room. A very tall, very broad man. For a moment I thought it was Ryan before realizing he was TOO tall and too broad to be Ryan, clearly outlined in the dark.

Then - he disappeared, the outline which was so clear faded into the blackness of the room. I gasped and jerked upright, swaying. Oh. I was dreaming. Light slides under the door and PeeWee is leaving the room next to mine. Maybe it was him that I sensed.

I don't know. After my heart rate returns to normal, I check my clock and find it to be 11:30. Mwaa-haa! I DID fall asleep! Before midnight. Improvement. And I went back to sleep to dream about ice skating on frozen swimming pools and using Pop's newly ordered rabbit cages to store stuffed animals in so they won't be completely empty.

Yeah. I lose all control of my imagination at night.

There were a few times that I woke but I went straight back to sleep until my phone buzzed and Val asked if I was alive today.

It was 5:55. Was I? I did a mental check. Arms. Limp. Leg's. Limp. Eyes... closing.

I'm not sure yet.

But I made myself roll out of bed knowing if I stayed there another minute I would fall back asleep. One can't afford to wake up slowly or gently when waking at 6:00.

I fumbled to dress and got outside at 6:02 where it was still twilight. 2.30 miles later, I had walked two different routes and was still struggling to stay awake. I hung up and sprinted the last half-block home.

Then went upstairs, finished my water and ate a banana before jumping in a shower which I ran cold water on to help my waking up efforts. Then stood in the kitchen waiting for that moment when random ingrediantes in the fridge and pantry would compile in my mind to create a meal.

I ended up making fancy scrambled eggs - which is really an omlette made by those of us who can't actually get the thing to turn without it ending up scrambled eggs anyway. Pop had fallen asleep with the TV on and so I got to watch that magic hair roller that straightens with just the right amount of heat to give you large curls, silky polished hair, straight, with body. The trial was only 14.99 for thirty days and I listened to see what it said it would cost after that but these guys were slick and didn't even put a * at the bottom to explain what happened after the trial was over.

I had already found out the perfect tool to use to make your face young and smooth. I'm telling you people. Had I picked up the phone, I could have changed my life and had forever smooth, young skin with silky, sleek hair all before breakfast.

Instead I cleaned out the dishwasher, left the pots and pans to be scrubbed later and returned to my room to comb out my wet, not silking and smooth hair and cover my aging, rough face with natural make-up so I can hide my secrets from the world. Actually, if I was honest, my hair is still in a wet braid waiting to be combed out from the shower. But you get the point.

My bed beckoned. I resisted, tearing off the bedding to throw in the wash. You can't take a nap without snuggling under soft covers and you certainly can't if they're soapy and wet. That didn't seem like enough though, so I sorted out my laundry on my bed waiting for their chance for all their soapy fun.

Then I turned on Pastor Greg's sermon to listen to while I put my room back in order. I ended up stretching while the sermon finished and chatting with my brother who came to put his shoes on in my room and ask permission to take the car to his medical appointments since his gave up the ghost.

Getting all teary-eyed over the way that God kept a family from going bankrupt when they started tithing, I found I enjoyed stretching while sitting cross-legged which gave you that feel good stretch and not the "Ow. I'm not flexible at all" stretch.

Though I was pleasantly surprised to find I could touch my toes on both sides with straight legs. I can't always do that.

With my room in that clean-but-clutter-feeling state, I sat at the computer to update my blog before I forgot all the good details like the book torture the night before. And Pop calls that the phone is for me.

The house phone? For me??

My first thought is somehow Kevin, the Johavah's Witness that has been coming around has found my phone number. Then I realize how stupid that is. But I can't think of who knows me that has Grandma's number and not mine. It's Brandi wanting to know dates for Joseph so she doesn't schedule her production at the same time.

I hang up with her and sit back down. Swaying. Telling myself I can edit today and stay awake. Telling myself if I'm still this sleepy I can always take a nap once my bed is cleared. Telling myself I need to move the load over and do a second so my bed WILL be cleared.

And after that I'm starting "The Captive."

I'm glad today it's editing pre-written text.

If I was writing, the characters might curl up on the ground and go to sleep.

Tuesday - The Challenge Begins

It was a long night at rehearsal. I spent all yesterday running errands, prepping for the beginning of the challenge and for Rachel's wedding shower. I tried a new brand of vitamins since the store I stopped by didn't have New Chapter. I also found wrist weights (three pounds) at Wal-Mart that strap on, making you look somewhat like a dog with arm warmers but which makes you have to work just that much harder while on your walk. It seemed a good place to start for building up arms with no muscles whatsoever.

I hadn't counted on rehearsal to help with the arm-strengthening goal. Let me tell you, a four and a half hour rehearsal, the majority of which is spent in dance, is enough to fill any exercise demand for the day. We started with warm ups and stretching. Then moved into - THE DANCE.

Now. I'm playing an Eygyptian in this scene but since that wouldn't be interesting enough on it's own, they decided to make Pharoe into Elvis Presley. Which means the dance combines the Egyption movements you see on the tomb walls - and 50's bop-sho-bopping. (Photo by pufferfish_76 on Flickr)

The bop-sho-bopping is the easy part. I have a new respect for Egyptians. To see what I mean, you can try this at home. Hold you arms straight out from your shoulder. Keep them level. Now bend them at the elbow to go up. Keep that straight . Now move your wrist like you're holding a tray - or two trays in this case. See? Not too bad.

Now hold it for eight counts.

Ready for the next?

Keep that position but move your arms down so that your palms are facing the floor. Got it?

Good. Now point your fingers toward your waist. Hold THAT for eight counts.

Okay, so now you get the general idea about how much it hurts to hold your wrists like that. Great. Now do it for three hours while bouncing and doing jazz squares.

That was me at rehearsal last night. Did I mention I forgot to bring my water?

So I get out just before 10 and run home to find the house full of people getting ready to leave for the girl's pageant this week. I drink water to make up the lack, then manage to be in bed (with a house full of people) by 10:30. So I'm not that far off-schedule.

And I lay there until midnight, wondering how I'm going to get up at 6:00 and wishing it was already 6:00. I have a good chat with God about helping me overcome resentment with certain people, then wonder what colors I would have painted Palacios if I had stayed - then just get homesick.

I fall asleep after taking an herbal drink thing. Should try that earlier tonight.

And I dream about all those people I was chatting with God with. Only in my dream, I'm not upset with them. THEY'RE upset with me. Which makes me distressed, pleading forgiveness that doesn't come.

So when I wake at 5:30, I'm hardly feeling cheery. But I still have 30 minutes. If I don't dwell on that too much, I might make it back to sleep. Maybe.

Or you could read your Bible now, before you go on a walk and get busy making breakfast.

It's amazing how the Lord speaks in the morning.

I peek at the ceiling. Or I could try to snag a bit more sleep so I can make it all day without walking in a haze.

You know you're just going to lay here anyway.

Eh. Good point. Besides, I spent all night praying to God to help me clean up my life. The least I can do now is um - obey Him?

So I flick on my light, blink against the painful rays and note that it's not even slightly light outside. I get through a few Psalms which I mostly enjoy except for the occasional time when my eye looses it's place or tries to read half closed. I'm just finishing up with Val texts.

You about reeeaaady?

Yep. I've been awake. I'll call as soon as I get outside. I reply, pround that I'm awake and already aware of a new day.

Kay. I'M PACING THE DRIVE!

Oh. Wow. I'm not THAT ready. So I change into a pair of shorts, find my shoes, slip my new pedametor in my pocket to measure the distances I've been walking forever without knowing.

And call. We chat. I'm bemoaning that it's still dark out, while her eyes are being irritated by the sun. She's worried about loose dogs and I'm noticing that all of ours are asleep or still locked up with their owners. Somewhere I smell a dog - and a skunk. Glad I missed that one.

Forty minutes and over two miles later, I'm heading back into the house where I have told everyone I'm making breakfast this morning.

Well, actually, I asked Pee-Wee who's visiting if there was breakfast foods he wasn't allowed to have. Pop ventures for biscuts and gravy and sausage. Rocky hears "breakfast" and asks what time, delighted to hear I'm starting it at seven. And after I go to bed, Lauren texts to tell me she's planning on coming too!

Which is great. Except there's one little problem. There's no Bisquick. There's no canned biscuts. And there's no sausage. Which leaves gravy but that's not going to make the cut on it's own. There IS however, pancake mix. I have a tradition with pancakes.

The first four crumble. The next few are under done. Then I finally get into a routine and ge them turning out decently - but only after wearing my temper thin and muttering a few words I try very hard not to use and usually fail. You think I wouldn't, since I'm listening to a sermon on God's glory working through us to overcome sin. Ahem. I guess I'm still a work in progress. And the cabinet doors keep catching the cord and yanking the headphones out of my ears.

But I get bacon and pancakes going, remembering after I get the dishwasher cleaned out, reloaded and the delicate stuff handwashed, that I promised Pee-Wee eggs since that was all he wanted. So I make eggs.

Then go to clean my room. Put on make up and do hair that's now dry from the bath after the walk. Fairly pleased with myself. And remembering I forgot to water the garden and if I don't do it soon, it's going to be too hot. So I water the garden and hunt for squash, cucumbers and tomatoes. And water the garden some more. Head back up and start on my writing.

Which i do with write-or-die software so I can keep track of time and word count at the same time. It flows, a little roughtly but fairly steadily. But I forgot to put that I can save or get out of it before the time is up. And I finish the scene which means that the next part is editing pre-written text. I copy the text, then hit CNT-ALT-DEL to get out of the program. Well - that's what I entended to do. Instead, I just hit delete and the entire text poofs out of sight.

Oh dear. Well, at least I copied it. I close out the program and pull up the doc and hit "Paste".... and nothing happens. Oh. Dear. Well, maybe it's in the backup file.

Then, my dear friends, in true Lindsey fashion, the entire computer shuts off.

Just like that. The fan was running. I only had two programs going. I hadn't been on it very long. And poof! It's gone.

I restart it. It pulls up. I try to find the doc. And POOF!

It's gone again.

So I give it what it wants and let it have a break while I listen to another sermon on women in ministry and unity in Christ and stuff more of those little round tool cloths with Hershy kisses. Adding "Kisses" to my "Snack section" for what Lindsey eats all day.

As soon as I've hunted down more ribbon and finished off the 15 circles in that package, I tentitively pull up the computer.

I rewrite what I already wrote - hopefully better the second time, SAVE it, then copy and paste it into the doc.

Next part. I've given up on timing while editing. It's too hard to keep track of starts and stops. But the idea is that I put a good chunk of effort into each document so this week I'm not going to worry over exact times. Just getting back into the swing of things.

I erase the important but very cheesy part about Kael praying while getting ready to do exciting stuff that his fans will swoon over. Then set out to rewrite it with greater depth and less cheesiness. And bang... the wave of sleepiness hits me.

I convince myself that contrary to popular belief, that coffee I made for breakfast isn't going to do a thing except make me jittery and more prone to pacing the house than writing.

So I decide to blog while I have the chance since rehearsal has a way of creeping up and running until bedtime and then return to writing. Perhaps after doing a million jumping jacks or something to get oxygen to my brain.

Anyone have any suggestions?

UPDATE:

I pulled out my trusty alphasmart thinking as long as I was writing new material, I may as well save the computer as much as possible. Only to find it was already noon! I'd been snacking on left over pancakes and bacon and wasn't hungry yet so I wrote the scene for Kael and (Joy!) Remarr came in. While that was uploading to the computer, I just warmed up some of the beans left over from last night. And read a chapter of "The Shadow Within" by Karen Hancock. (Which all of you should read her books!) Then declared myself done for the day on "The Captive."

About that time, there was a crash, the clange of brass and a breathless string of jibberish from the living room. I left my work in mid-sentance, thinking someone fell down the stairs. In the living room, I found Pop trying to hold a sofa-type chair that had fallen on it's back with Pee-Wee in it.

I rushed over and helped Pop haul it back upright, only to find that Pee-Wee had hit his head either on the wall by the fireplace or the candle stick holder on the way down. Which explained the crash and the brass and the surprised gibberish. He said it must be the candle holder that hit it since it didn't really hurt but it looked painful enough to me and made me remember hauling my grandma off the driveway when she tumbled down and got the blow that ruined the rest of her life.

Assured that he would tell me if he started feeling sick, after trying to force ice and aspirin on him, I returned to work on advertising for an hour. The first thing I had to do was log into my domain name company to get things straightened out so this website I paid for actually shows up. It doesn't like me at all and always gives me a hard time, saying my email and password doesn't exist until poof! It magically realizes I do exist and lets me into the system. After I sent my stuff to the man to prove I was Lindsey Renee Backen and I've needed my site fixed for two months, I set about on my other tasks. Writing an article for the newspaper in Goliad. I had no clue where to start. Do I write it from the author's POV or like a book review or what? I read a few other book reviews, still came up blank and started working on the poster instead. I got the poster done, wondering if I could put it at the Sugar Shack and leave copies there for Rocky to make available. And IS it in the local bookstore? They said they were ordering some. I don't know of they ever came in.

And how do I get it out farther?

This led to a series of trying to make a professional business card - with no luck. Then looking into flyers, door hangers and wondering if it would be more effective to go door-to-door or mail them out and if that would matter if they weren't easily available. So should I go set up a booth at the carwash or the snow cone place my relatives own? Is it legal to sell them on the streets? Would it be cost effective to print up sample chapters to give away and if so, should I go for a professional look like you would make a program for the play? In the end of the hour, I have a flyer to show for my efforts. I'm still waiting to hear back about the website.

And these were my ideas.

• Write newspaper article to send to local papers
• Get postcards to mail out to homes?
• Door hangers
• Set up a booth near the Sugar Shack and sell to people waiting in line.
• Leave copies with Rocky at the Sugar Shack
• Put up posters around town with the summery and where they can purchase
• Produce and hand out sample chapters
• Set up another book signing at Hastings
• Set up another book signing at Kiro Java

The Calling (to be a better Me!)

One page full of tasks. How can something so innocent looking be so evil? This is the beginning of my goals for my 24th year. It consists of two major goals.

1. Gain strength, flexibility and generally good health.

2. Become a best-selling author.

To that end, I will be attempting to keep the blog updated on my progress. After all, who can't use a few other pairs of eyes to help speed them along on their accountability goals? Since for now my writing is my work, I'm going to start treating it like work. And since my work is at home and flexible, I'm going to take full advantage of that freedom to make sure I take the best care of myself that I can.

And you, my dear friends, are free to praise, scold or dictate punishments of cold baths or early bedtimes if I begin to slack. No, seriously. Keep at me because I really want to do this.

So this is my plan. Starting Monday (or in this case, Tuesday as Monday I will be recovering from an all-nighter) I will do my danged best to keep the schedule I posted on the weekend. On the following Saturday, I will be sure and fill in the weekly report and modify the goals as needed. It's a trial and error until I find a good routine but I can do anything for a week, right?

So here we are. Starting off with a bang. This is this week's goals.

*Deep breath*

6:00-6:40 – Talk and walk with Valerie. Carry a weight in free hand.

6:40-7:00 – Shower

7:00-7:30 – Dressed, hair, make-up, jewelry

7:30-8:00 – Bible

8:00 – Breakfast

à 1 hour or 2000 words of “The Captive”

à 1 hour publicity for “The Calling.”

à 1 hour “Swing” or “Across the Distance”

Afternoon:

à Strength exercise/Irish dancing/jog

Night:

à Face washed

à Teeth brushed

à Room picked up

à Off computer at 10:00

à Chapter read

à Bed by 10:30

The first day was an overall success. I did get around to working on Swing, got an unexpected visit from my sister, went on another walk and got to rehearsal. Rehearsal lasted until 9:30 and was a combination of blocking and dance. Even though I eat before rehearsal, it apparently isn't enough because I'm always hungry when I get home. So I'm going to get something to eat and try to land in bed at 10 with a good book. Light goes out at 10:30 - unless I fall asleep before. And we'll see what happens tomorrow!