I've found myself stuck recently when it comes to writing. I know a good writer just writes. But sometimes I am not a good writer. I find it more and more difficult to be swept away by my own imagination as the world around me becomes more real. I used to have friends who would build stories and characters with me—usually based on our favorite shows or video games. But those friends are gone.
I try to embrace the melancholy, to use it, but I fear more and more the sheer exhaustion that keeps me from doing so sucessfully. I know that the only way out of it is to keep trudging through.
I feel like Atreyu in the Swamp of Sadness.
Must keep writing, even if the Nothing devours all my hard work.
So lets get back to it. Lets finish something for once.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Coming Soon! AKA: Some Honest Talk about the big P
Hello Alice,
It has been some time since last I wrote. I've found a middle ground between the awful job I hate and the one I love. Through some trials and tribulations I am now working from home for the admin job, while continuing at the bus company.
But that is not the biggest news I bring you. Today I offer this: I am pregnant.
14 weeks pregnant (that's 3 1/2 months for those of you who hate the 'weeks' measurement)
It wasn't planned, but we're not unhappy about it either. Hubby is actually super excited which is utterly adorable.
Personally, I am scared. About a lot of it. But it's something we want. And millions of woman do it everyday, so it can't be that bad, right? Please let it not be as bad as I'm afraid it is.
But even my fears are tamed by the fact that I just don't have time to wallow in doubt. Because I'm too busy trying to balance work withmorning all day sickness. I never knew it could be this bad. All I keep thinking is "how did women in medieval times deal with this?!" Specifically the poor ones, who didn't have cooks or take out. I suppose that's one reason mother-in-laws were commonly staying with young couples.
And the hardest part is that most of my family doesn't understand. My mom (and my aunt from what she tells me) were both the "luminous" pregnant ladies. You know them. The ones who have tons of energy, whose hair and skin improve and who GLOW.
I was 10 when my mom was pregnant with my sister, I remember. She was beautiful and energetic, she never complained about any pain (other than the baby kicking her kidneys sometimes). She says she had bad heart burn at night, but that was about it.
So far into this pregnancy, I am miserable. I'm consistently nauseous, throwing up at least once or twice a week (once ever day on the bad weeks), I'm dizzy, light-headed, have migraines, (which I can't take anything for, because meds + baby =bad) I'm breaking out, can't stand eating some of my favorite foods, and I'm tired ALL THE TIME.
I keep trying to tell myself to hold on. the sickness should be over soon —it usually ends in the beginning of the 2nd trimester, which is what I'm in—some women have it much worse. Some of my friends had preclampsia, or prenatal diabetes, some were on bed-rest for the last 3 months of their pregnancy. It could be worse.
But all I know is myself and how I feel. And I just want to crawl into a hole and die—preferably while devouring mounds of food. I understand why Victorian ladies went into "confinement". I don't want to see people or talk to them. I'm especially sick of being asked constantly, everyday, in the most condescending tone of fake care "How are you feeling?"
I feel like I want to die, thank you for asking.
I've actually stopped being nice or polite in my answers. No more ambiguous shoulder shrugs, or "I'm fine". No. Now when you ask me how I'm feeling, you will hear how I'm feeling.
"Hi, Amber, are you feeling any better?"
"Nope, still nauseous and dizzy and miserable, all the time. Thanks for asking!"
"Hey Amber, how are you feeling today?"
*indecipherable groaning*
I'm sure when I see the kid I'm going to love it to bits and be super happy. But right now, I just want this shit over.
It has been some time since last I wrote. I've found a middle ground between the awful job I hate and the one I love. Through some trials and tribulations I am now working from home for the admin job, while continuing at the bus company.
But that is not the biggest news I bring you. Today I offer this: I am pregnant.
14 weeks pregnant (that's 3 1/2 months for those of you who hate the 'weeks' measurement)
It wasn't planned, but we're not unhappy about it either. Hubby is actually super excited which is utterly adorable.
Personally, I am scared. About a lot of it. But it's something we want. And millions of woman do it everyday, so it can't be that bad, right? Please let it not be as bad as I'm afraid it is.
But even my fears are tamed by the fact that I just don't have time to wallow in doubt. Because I'm too busy trying to balance work with
And the hardest part is that most of my family doesn't understand. My mom (and my aunt from what she tells me) were both the "luminous" pregnant ladies. You know them. The ones who have tons of energy, whose hair and skin improve and who GLOW.
I was 10 when my mom was pregnant with my sister, I remember. She was beautiful and energetic, she never complained about any pain (other than the baby kicking her kidneys sometimes). She says she had bad heart burn at night, but that was about it.
So far into this pregnancy, I am miserable. I'm consistently nauseous, throwing up at least once or twice a week (once ever day on the bad weeks), I'm dizzy, light-headed, have migraines, (which I can't take anything for, because meds + baby =bad) I'm breaking out, can't stand eating some of my favorite foods, and I'm tired ALL THE TIME.
I keep trying to tell myself to hold on. the sickness should be over soon —it usually ends in the beginning of the 2nd trimester, which is what I'm in—some women have it much worse. Some of my friends had preclampsia, or prenatal diabetes, some were on bed-rest for the last 3 months of their pregnancy. It could be worse.
But all I know is myself and how I feel. And I just want to crawl into a hole and die—preferably while devouring mounds of food. I understand why Victorian ladies went into "confinement". I don't want to see people or talk to them. I'm especially sick of being asked constantly, everyday, in the most condescending tone of fake care "How are you feeling?"
I feel like I want to die, thank you for asking.
I've actually stopped being nice or polite in my answers. No more ambiguous shoulder shrugs, or "I'm fine". No. Now when you ask me how I'm feeling, you will hear how I'm feeling.
"Hi, Amber, are you feeling any better?"
"Nope, still nauseous and dizzy and miserable, all the time. Thanks for asking!"
"Hey Amber, how are you feeling today?"
*indecipherable groaning*
I'm sure when I see the kid I'm going to love it to bits and be super happy. But right now, I just want this shit over.
Tuesday, June 07, 2016
The Dream and the River
I had a dream, about 2 years ago now, which was so terrifying and emotional it woke me and kept me from sleeping the rest of that night. And unlike most dreams, which fade as the waking mind resumes the helm, this dream remained vivid over the months, and now years, since.
I dreamt that my (now) husband and I had found the perfect house. It was tucked in the woods near a stream and it was quirky and beautiful and everything we wanted. We had signed all the paperwork and stood in front of it holding the key. Our key.
Suddenly we were both swept away by a flash flood, away from our new home and into the river. We were carried away with the current, no matter how hard we fought to get to shore. We clung to logs and tree limbs and floating debris when we could, but we were eventually tumbled back into the cold murky waters to choke and sputter and fight. We never lost eachother though. We clung to eachother and took turns fighting the tide.
The river was long and winding, carrying us with it though we always kept fighting the current. No matter how the rivers path changed it always brought us back past our house. we would fight to get to shore, the water would bring us within fingers reach of the bank before swallowing us up again. Everytime I felt I could take no more, that I would break from the heartache of coming so close. But we kept trying. We kept swimming against the current. For months. Years, we swam. The water rushing us past the banks too quickly to catch hold.
Our families would stand atop the bank shaking their heads as they watched us drowning and fighting the tides, Though we would cry out for help they all turned their backs, telling us this was what growing up meant. That we had to pull ourselves out.
So we continued on, facing the rapids with nothing but eachother. Until one day my husband caught hold of the shore. He brought my hand to the bank and we climbed it together, slipping in the mud as the bank grew taller. When we finally crested the top, cold and soaked and out of breath, there was our house. Just as we had left it. Waiting for us.
And in the yard was a beautiful white dog with blue eyes. He looked to us, smiled and said "You've earned it."
I dreamt that my (now) husband and I had found the perfect house. It was tucked in the woods near a stream and it was quirky and beautiful and everything we wanted. We had signed all the paperwork and stood in front of it holding the key. Our key.
Suddenly we were both swept away by a flash flood, away from our new home and into the river. We were carried away with the current, no matter how hard we fought to get to shore. We clung to logs and tree limbs and floating debris when we could, but we were eventually tumbled back into the cold murky waters to choke and sputter and fight. We never lost eachother though. We clung to eachother and took turns fighting the tide.
The river was long and winding, carrying us with it though we always kept fighting the current. No matter how the rivers path changed it always brought us back past our house. we would fight to get to shore, the water would bring us within fingers reach of the bank before swallowing us up again. Everytime I felt I could take no more, that I would break from the heartache of coming so close. But we kept trying. We kept swimming against the current. For months. Years, we swam. The water rushing us past the banks too quickly to catch hold.
Our families would stand atop the bank shaking their heads as they watched us drowning and fighting the tides, Though we would cry out for help they all turned their backs, telling us this was what growing up meant. That we had to pull ourselves out.
So we continued on, facing the rapids with nothing but eachother. Until one day my husband caught hold of the shore. He brought my hand to the bank and we climbed it together, slipping in the mud as the bank grew taller. When we finally crested the top, cold and soaked and out of breath, there was our house. Just as we had left it. Waiting for us.
And in the yard was a beautiful white dog with blue eyes. He looked to us, smiled and said "You've earned it."
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Second Thoughts: Money vs. Happy
Hello Alice,
You know that old adage, the one about money not buying happiness? We all do. And at some point in our lives most of us are poor enough to think it is a load of horse manure.
Let's start this story at the beginning.
For the past few years I've been working part time—but for a very nice hourly rate—as a school bus driver. I have Administrative Assistant experience, but at the time all I could find was the bus company.
And I honestly loved it.
I loved working with kids without all the headache and bureaucracy of being a teacher. I loved the free time in the middle of the day to prep dinner, or work on crafts, or dedicate to my writing. And I brought in just as much as I had working full time. Sure I didn't have benefits, but once I got married that was solved. I didn't mind getting up and going to work, I looked forward to the new school years and loved the idea that when I had kids I could bring them along with me—and that makes my dream of homeschooling my kids closer to a reality. My bosses made me feel appreciated and needed.
We were still struggling, but no more than before. And loving your job goes a long way.
About a month ago my Mom called me with an offer. The company she works for was expanding and needed a new Admin Assistant. Full time, with benefits. My per hour rate would go down, but my yearly would go up. And I would just have to work in an office.
More money! And it's an admin job, which I have experience in. So I said sure, without a second thought.
Then the problems started gathering, before I even started.
Travel. I would have to travel across the state every week, taking a huge chunk out of that pay upgrade, and taking me away from my husband (and any future children) at least 1 night a week. I also would have no access to a permanent office. (My first day I spent at a table in an empty activity room, my second in a closet.)
Hours. There would be no normal office hours. Most days I would have to stay until 6:30pm—meaning I won't get home until 7:30-8:30pm. Which takes away any concept of dinner.
Clients. I was originally told I would have no contact with the clients—lets just say these people would fit in on an episode of SVU, and not on the cop or victims side. As someone who was a victim of a sex crime, I was (and still am) uncomfortable with this. But, the money is good, so why not try and face my demons? They're human too, and statistically they were all victims at some point.
Locations. I was told in my original offer that I would not have to enter the Prison, as this was an out-patient program. This was also changed. Twice. First I was told I would just have to go into the Administrative building. Then I was told I would have to go into "the belly of the beast" to do filing. The stark, clinical, hospital-like prison. To it's belly. By myself.
Fun Fact about me: I'm TERRIFIED of Hospitals. And a prison is like a hospital I couldn't even step out of to get air. Everywhere there are cages. You are trapped. (more reasons I will never commit a crime).
My first day in just the Admin building of the prison Inearly had a panic attack. I cried the whole way home because I was so anxious about having to go further into that place.
What makes all of this worse is knowing if I want to quit I have to tell my mother. The person who got me the job. She will forever see me as a failure (not that she doesn't already) because I wasn't "smart" enough to suck it up and do the hard job so I can make the money she thinks I need to be happy.
But the more I think about it the more I realize, I was happy. My etsy business was starting to take off, I'd started selling at craft shows and conventions. What if I could have made up what's lacking in my income by dedicating my time to my craft? I was finally getting inspired again by my writing (after about a year long schlump). I just handed up my dreams—for money. For numbers on a screen. I gave up my opportunity to have kids.
I sold out.
And I want to return it. I want to go back. Fuck money.
I want happy.
I want poor and crafting and dreaming and building a family. Because no one ever regrets following their dreams.
You know that old adage, the one about money not buying happiness? We all do. And at some point in our lives most of us are poor enough to think it is a load of horse manure.
Let's start this story at the beginning.
For the past few years I've been working part time—but for a very nice hourly rate—as a school bus driver. I have Administrative Assistant experience, but at the time all I could find was the bus company.
And I honestly loved it.
I loved working with kids without all the headache and bureaucracy of being a teacher. I loved the free time in the middle of the day to prep dinner, or work on crafts, or dedicate to my writing. And I brought in just as much as I had working full time. Sure I didn't have benefits, but once I got married that was solved. I didn't mind getting up and going to work, I looked forward to the new school years and loved the idea that when I had kids I could bring them along with me—and that makes my dream of homeschooling my kids closer to a reality. My bosses made me feel appreciated and needed.
We were still struggling, but no more than before. And loving your job goes a long way.
About a month ago my Mom called me with an offer. The company she works for was expanding and needed a new Admin Assistant. Full time, with benefits. My per hour rate would go down, but my yearly would go up. And I would just have to work in an office.
More money! And it's an admin job, which I have experience in. So I said sure, without a second thought.
Then the problems started gathering, before I even started.
Travel. I would have to travel across the state every week, taking a huge chunk out of that pay upgrade, and taking me away from my husband (and any future children) at least 1 night a week. I also would have no access to a permanent office. (My first day I spent at a table in an empty activity room, my second in a closet.)
Hours. There would be no normal office hours. Most days I would have to stay until 6:30pm—meaning I won't get home until 7:30-8:30pm. Which takes away any concept of dinner.
Clients. I was originally told I would have no contact with the clients—lets just say these people would fit in on an episode of SVU, and not on the cop or victims side. As someone who was a victim of a sex crime, I was (and still am) uncomfortable with this. But, the money is good, so why not try and face my demons? They're human too, and statistically they were all victims at some point.
Locations. I was told in my original offer that I would not have to enter the Prison, as this was an out-patient program. This was also changed. Twice. First I was told I would just have to go into the Administrative building. Then I was told I would have to go into "the belly of the beast" to do filing. The stark, clinical, hospital-like prison. To it's belly. By myself.
Fun Fact about me: I'm TERRIFIED of Hospitals. And a prison is like a hospital I couldn't even step out of to get air. Everywhere there are cages. You are trapped. (more reasons I will never commit a crime).
My first day in just the Admin building of the prison I
What makes all of this worse is knowing if I want to quit I have to tell my mother. The person who got me the job. She will forever see me as a failure (not that she doesn't already) because I wasn't "smart" enough to suck it up and do the hard job so I can make the money she thinks I need to be happy.
But the more I think about it the more I realize, I was happy. My etsy business was starting to take off, I'd started selling at craft shows and conventions. What if I could have made up what's lacking in my income by dedicating my time to my craft? I was finally getting inspired again by my writing (after about a year long schlump). I just handed up my dreams—for money. For numbers on a screen. I gave up my opportunity to have kids.
I sold out.
And I want to return it. I want to go back. Fuck money.
I want happy.
I want poor and crafting and dreaming and building a family. Because no one ever regrets following their dreams.
Friday, November 27, 2015
Evolutions: AKA the Scariest Thing in the World—Change
There are days when I wonder if I am the only person who finds change terrifying.
Let's start at the beginning This past week I received a text from my mother, at 7 am, asking me to call her ASAP because she wanted to "consult" me on something important. My mom does not ask my opinion on anything. I rarely get texts from her unless it has to do with a family gathering and what food I'm bringing. So for her to tell me to call her ASAP, sent up red flags.
When I did call her after my morning bus run, it was not what I expected. She asked if I would be interested taking an administrative assistant job in her office. Her company was expanding and they needed some one with many of the skills I possess from previous jobs. Full time, with benefits, and salary almost twice what I'm currently making.
The cons? I have to drive to another state for work, and there will be a good amount of driving around said state throughout the week. But it's not like I don't currently drive for a living, right? I'd be away from home at least one night a week, and there are some evening hours.
But with this job my husband and I have a much better chance of owning a home, and being able to start a family. Which we've been struggling to do. And we would move closer to most of our parents (which my mom has been trying to get us to do).
I know it will increase our overall happiness greatly.
But I can't help the terror gripping me at the idea of changing jobs. There was a time in my life where I couldn't seem to stay in one job for more than a year. But I've been in my current position four years. I love my job. I love the kids in my district, I love my co-workers, I love my dress code, and I LOVE my bosses. I know that this change is what is best for my husband and I if we want to start a family. But I am going to miss my current job. The people, as well as the freedom it provided me during the day. Freedom to run errands, make dinner, work on creative projects.
What if I can't handle working full time? What if I don't get to see my husband enough? What if I get pregnant and can't get time off, how will I be able to take care of my children when I have them (this is not the sort of job where I can bring my child to work). What if the work is soul-crushing? How can I tell my mother that if I need to leave?
I don't consider myself an overly anxious person, but employment has always been a source of anxiety for me. I know many of my fears are irrational. Whose to say I won't love the job? Or that I'll even have kids? My mom was so career focused my whole life, I fear I will never live up to that ambition—partially because I just don't have it. I don't have the same drive my mother does. I would be much more content to be a stay at home mom, maybe working part-time. I would love to home-school my children and spend my days educating them and being a homemaker. Because I just don't think I could do everything my mom did. Working 2, sometimes 3 jobs, while still making dinner every night.
My early failures in the professional field (I can blame the economy all I want, but in the end it was me who didn't get hired, I wasn't good enough) have given me a bleak view of my own worth. I know I am a good worker, but I understand my limitations. And I'm ok with them. We're always telling everyone that they have to "break their limitations!"
Well, I'm comfortable with mine. I will never be an athlete, or an actress, or a singer. Not everyone can be great. Most of us are just average. Even my passions, writing, clay crafts, roleplaying, I know the odds say I will never be great. I don't want to be great. Because wanting to be great leaves very far to fall when you fail. Being average, being ok, is safe.
Staying in the same job, is safe.
Change is not safe.
Yet, I said yes. Because I want a better life. I'm tired of living the way I am. Scraping and praying and crying. About bills, about debt, about this unobtainable future. I'm tired of taking two steps back when I try to move forward.
It's time to live. And as we all know, Life is Change. It's adapting. So here I am, evolving.
When I did call her after my morning bus run, it was not what I expected. She asked if I would be interested taking an administrative assistant job in her office. Her company was expanding and they needed some one with many of the skills I possess from previous jobs. Full time, with benefits, and salary almost twice what I'm currently making.
The cons? I have to drive to another state for work, and there will be a good amount of driving around said state throughout the week. But it's not like I don't currently drive for a living, right? I'd be away from home at least one night a week, and there are some evening hours.
But with this job my husband and I have a much better chance of owning a home, and being able to start a family. Which we've been struggling to do. And we would move closer to most of our parents (which my mom has been trying to get us to do).
I know it will increase our overall happiness greatly.
But I can't help the terror gripping me at the idea of changing jobs. There was a time in my life where I couldn't seem to stay in one job for more than a year. But I've been in my current position four years. I love my job. I love the kids in my district, I love my co-workers, I love my dress code, and I LOVE my bosses. I know that this change is what is best for my husband and I if we want to start a family. But I am going to miss my current job. The people, as well as the freedom it provided me during the day. Freedom to run errands, make dinner, work on creative projects.
What if I can't handle working full time? What if I don't get to see my husband enough? What if I get pregnant and can't get time off, how will I be able to take care of my children when I have them (this is not the sort of job where I can bring my child to work). What if the work is soul-crushing? How can I tell my mother that if I need to leave?
I don't consider myself an overly anxious person, but employment has always been a source of anxiety for me. I know many of my fears are irrational. Whose to say I won't love the job? Or that I'll even have kids? My mom was so career focused my whole life, I fear I will never live up to that ambition—partially because I just don't have it. I don't have the same drive my mother does. I would be much more content to be a stay at home mom, maybe working part-time. I would love to home-school my children and spend my days educating them and being a homemaker. Because I just don't think I could do everything my mom did. Working 2, sometimes 3 jobs, while still making dinner every night.
My early failures in the professional field (I can blame the economy all I want, but in the end it was me who didn't get hired, I wasn't good enough) have given me a bleak view of my own worth. I know I am a good worker, but I understand my limitations. And I'm ok with them. We're always telling everyone that they have to "break their limitations!"
Well, I'm comfortable with mine. I will never be an athlete, or an actress, or a singer. Not everyone can be great. Most of us are just average. Even my passions, writing, clay crafts, roleplaying, I know the odds say I will never be great. I don't want to be great. Because wanting to be great leaves very far to fall when you fail. Being average, being ok, is safe.
Staying in the same job, is safe.
Change is not safe.
Yet, I said yes. Because I want a better life. I'm tired of living the way I am. Scraping and praying and crying. About bills, about debt, about this unobtainable future. I'm tired of taking two steps back when I try to move forward.
It's time to live. And as we all know, Life is Change. It's adapting. So here I am, evolving.
Monday, October 26, 2015
Cutting the Cord: Why I got rid of Cable
We'd been talking about it for over a year. Getting rid of the Beast: Cable. I'd read all the articles and blogs about how much money people saved, what they subscribed to instead, how they got digital antennas and still got all their local channels. But it's scary, unfamiliar territory.
Like many of you out there, I felt trapped. The Demon (AKA Comcast) constantly raising our prices, while cutting the channels we received. And they never cut the channels we don't watch. No. It must always be something we love.
First they took ScyFy and TNT. Then they took Travel, TLC, and Cartoon Network.
Whenever we would call to report a problem or downgrade our service (because I'm sorry, I only have one soul, and you cannot have it!) we were met with the same listless bullshit.
"Would you like to upgrade to triple play?"
"No, I want to downgrade, I can't afford our current package."
"Do you watch sports?"
"No, I hate sports."
"Do you have a home phone?"
"No, I have a cell phone."
"We've determined the best package for you is our Triple Play with home phone! If you sign up today, not only is installation free, you'll get every NFL sports channel just in time for football season!"
"Um... did you even listen to me?"
It is depressing, we all know it. Finally my husband and I were so fed up with our bill continuing to escalate for the same mediocre service. I didn't even want to look at the remote, let alone turn on the cable box. This August I went the entire month without watching cable. I just watched netflix. I didn't even realize it until September came around.
That was when I made my mind up.
My husband called that week (because despite our being married, I cannot call them, because I have no power there) and canceled the cable. We kept our same internet (although that router is next to go!) and haven't looked back.
And honestly, it's true what they say. You don't miss it. We didn't get all the crazy subscriptions, or digital antenna. We just kept our Netflix. And I love it. No commercials, no flipping through channels, no "I can't find anything to watch". Freedom.
In fact, I haven't felt this free since I was a kid and we only had 6 channels (two of them only on clear days).
I find myself doing more. More crafting, more reading, more writing. All of the things I couldn't find time for before. It's a liberating transformation.
So do it, cut the cord. Take the chance and don't let them bully you. Take back your money, take back control of what you watch, but most of all—TAKE BACK YOUR TIME!
Like many of you out there, I felt trapped. The Demon (AKA Comcast) constantly raising our prices, while cutting the channels we received. And they never cut the channels we don't watch. No. It must always be something we love.
First they took ScyFy and TNT.
Whenever we would call to report a problem or downgrade our service (because I'm sorry, I only have one soul, and you cannot have it!) we were met with the same listless bullshit.
"Would you like to upgrade to triple play?"
"No, I want to downgrade, I can't afford our current package."
"Do you watch sports?"
"No, I hate sports."
"Do you have a home phone?"
"No, I have a cell phone."
"We've determined the best package for you is our
"Um... did you even listen to me?"
It is depressing, we all know it. Finally my husband and I were so fed up with our bill continuing to escalate for the same mediocre service. I didn't even want to look at the remote, let alone turn on the cable box. This August I went the entire month without watching cable. I just watched netflix. I didn't even realize it until September came around.
That was when I made my mind up.
My husband called that week (because despite our being married, I cannot call them, because I have no power there) and canceled the cable. We kept our same internet (although that router is next to go!) and haven't looked back.
And honestly, it's true what they say. You don't miss it. We didn't get all the crazy subscriptions, or digital antenna. We just kept our Netflix. And I love it. No commercials, no flipping through channels, no "I can't find anything to watch". Freedom.
In fact, I haven't felt this free since I was a kid and we only had 6 channels (two of them only on clear days).
I find myself doing more. More crafting, more reading, more writing. All of the things I couldn't find time for before. It's a liberating transformation.
So do it, cut the cord. Take the chance and don't let them bully you. Take back your money, take back control of what you watch, but most of all—TAKE BACK YOUR TIME!
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Writing Challenge: Third Entry/ Dinosaurs
Hello Alice,
I know I have been scarce these last few weeks, but I promise I have had an excuse. I was busylosing my mind getting married.
Having once again returned to a semblance of my saner self (if you can call me sane) I'm determined to pick up with my writing challenge andhopefully finish it by the end of summer. I decided not to take any runs this summer, so I can recharge a little and get back into the things that feed my soul (rather than my wallet). I've got some new ideas for my etsy store—the shelves are looking a little bare as of late— it's called EclipsedCrafts if any of you are interested. I want to catch up on posting some recipes to my cooking blog, The Zombie Cook, and I want to read some books, and most importantly and most desperately, I want need to get back to my writing.
It is like there has been a hole in me these past few months. I've tried to do a little editing here and there, but not nearly as much as my characters demand (am I the only writer who feels like their characters get angry when neglected?)
So, my first step back in.
Review A Movie/Book/Anything
This past weekend an event happened that I had been looking forward to for months.
No, I am not talking about my wedding—which happened the Saturday before— I am speaking of seeing the premiere of the film Jurassic World with friends.
Since the very first trailer, I have been anxiously awaiting this film. For those of you who do not know me, allow me to explain. There are two subjects/creatures in this world that I am obsessed with beyond all else. One of them—as you may have been able to tell by now—is zombies.
But before there were zombies, there were Dinosaurs.
My entire life I have had nothing but nightmares. It caused for a difficult childhood. The only time I wake up thinking I had an awesome dream (even though it was still scary) are the times my dreams involve Zombies or Dinosaurs. It doesn't matter how many times I get chased by a T-Rex, he never catches me and so I love him.
I never had a dinosaur dream until my mom brought home Jurassic Park on VHS for Christmas. She had seen it in the theater months earlier and thought (even though it was PG-13 and I was only 8 and my brother was 6) that it was alright for us to watch. My brother and I LOVED it. Even though I was too scared to watch Muldoon get eaten by the Raptors (for years I would walk out of the room and wait for my brother to tell me it was safe).
I've been obsessed with dinosaurs ever since. If I hadn't decided to dedicate my life to books and writing (and if science degrees didn't involve so much damn math) I would have studied dinosaurs.
It may be surprising then, that I had not read Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton until the past year. I think as a kid I was concerned because my mom had said it was "heavily scientific". Having read it now, I think I would have managed (hell I read college-level psychological thrillers in fourth grade). But needless to say, I loved the book. And I feel reading it after seeing the first 3 movies gave me a new appreciation for the films (yes, even JP3). There was so much in that book that wasn't able to be covered in the movie. So many scenes and images that were so awesome. Like the T-Rex licking someone through the waterfall (shown in Lost World) or the Pterosaur aviary (shown in JP3).
In each of the three movies there is a little of that first book.
The same goes for Jurassic World. The filmmakers did a wonderful job of incorporating scenes from the book, while giving a courteous nod to the original film. The plot is reminiscent in a honorable way, bringing enough new to keep audiences interested without messing with tradition.
As an added bonus, for those who might notice/care about such things, they kept with the continuity of not only the films, but video games as well. From the original actor, BD Wong, playing Dr. Henry Wu, to scars on the T-Rex from her fight with the raptors in the first film (implying that the new park handlers had to re-capture her!). The Mosasaur may seem a little out of the blue for many, but for those who played the Telltale Jurassic Park Game (which I highly recommend for those—like me—who have been kept awake at night by the question "What happened to Nedry's Barbasol can of embryos?!") it is yet another cameo of a dinosaur from the original park. In the game the Mosasaur was big enough to be scary, in the movie she's HUGE! Showing her growth over those 20+ years.
Continuity is not something that always crosses the minds of movie-makers, so it shows the loving hand used when making this film.
As for the action? It's a Jurassic Park movie, come on! The beauty of the point Dr. Wu makes about this new hybrid dinosaur ("You wanted it bigger, scarier, more teeth") is that that was what they tried to do in JP3 with the Spinosaur—don't even get me started on the issues with that concept They ate FISH! There, I'm done, I promise—and what ultimately brought the franchise down. The Indominus Rex, as they call it—and make fun of it—in the film is just what it was trying to do with Spinosaur, only better (partially because Indominus is smart and that makes it SCARY!)
Some may think:
"But aren't they just doing the same thing, only with a fake dinosaur?"
The answer is yes, and no. Yes, they introduced a new dinosaur which is bigger, scarier, and has more teeth than the T-Rex. But the way they deal with it in this film is much more honest. They genetically created this animal, manipulated every fiber of its DNA. Which was one of the points in the book which the movies were never really able to bring up. Dr. Wu finally tells it here. None of the dinosaurs in the park are true clones. None of them are accurate. They were all altered, by adding genes where ones were incomplete or, as in the book, manipulating growth rates. This was a HUGE point in the book. Not just the idea of bringing back extinct creatures, but the DNA manipulation required to do it. It was a Pandora's box concept, and admittedly would have been too much in the first movie. But by bringing it up now, when everyone understands the basics of DNA, and real world de-extinction is on the horizon (Woolly Mammoths anyone?) it is the manipulation of such DNA that we need to be thinking about.
So all in all, Jurassic World is an awesome movie, for both the intellectual who would dissect its every meaning (like me) and the casual movie-goer who wants to see some great special effects, cool dinosaurs, jump-scares and thrilling action, or Chris Pratt leading Raptors into battle! (also me)
I know I have been scarce these last few weeks, but I promise I have had an excuse. I was busy
Having once again returned to a semblance of my saner self (if you can call me sane) I'm determined to pick up with my writing challenge and
It is like there has been a hole in me these past few months. I've tried to do a little editing here and there, but not nearly as much as my characters demand (am I the only writer who feels like their characters get angry when neglected?)
So, my first step back in.
Review A Movie/Book/Anything
This past weekend an event happened that I had been looking forward to for months.
No, I am not talking about my wedding—which happened the Saturday before— I am speaking of seeing the premiere of the film Jurassic World with friends.
Since the very first trailer, I have been anxiously awaiting this film. For those of you who do not know me, allow me to explain. There are two subjects/creatures in this world that I am obsessed with beyond all else. One of them—as you may have been able to tell by now—is zombies.
But before there were zombies, there were Dinosaurs.
My entire life I have had nothing but nightmares. It caused for a difficult childhood. The only time I wake up thinking I had an awesome dream (even though it was still scary) are the times my dreams involve Zombies or Dinosaurs. It doesn't matter how many times I get chased by a T-Rex, he never catches me and so I love him.
I never had a dinosaur dream until my mom brought home Jurassic Park on VHS for Christmas. She had seen it in the theater months earlier and thought (even though it was PG-13 and I was only 8 and my brother was 6) that it was alright for us to watch. My brother and I LOVED it. Even though I was too scared to watch Muldoon get eaten by the Raptors (for years I would walk out of the room and wait for my brother to tell me it was safe).
I've been obsessed with dinosaurs ever since. If I hadn't decided to dedicate my life to books and writing (and if science degrees didn't involve so much damn math) I would have studied dinosaurs.
It may be surprising then, that I had not read Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton until the past year. I think as a kid I was concerned because my mom had said it was "heavily scientific". Having read it now, I think I would have managed (hell I read college-level psychological thrillers in fourth grade). But needless to say, I loved the book. And I feel reading it after seeing the first 3 movies gave me a new appreciation for the films (yes, even JP3). There was so much in that book that wasn't able to be covered in the movie. So many scenes and images that were so awesome. Like the T-Rex licking someone through the waterfall (shown in Lost World) or the Pterosaur aviary (shown in JP3).
In each of the three movies there is a little of that first book.
The same goes for Jurassic World. The filmmakers did a wonderful job of incorporating scenes from the book, while giving a courteous nod to the original film. The plot is reminiscent in a honorable way, bringing enough new to keep audiences interested without messing with tradition.
As an added bonus, for those who might notice/care about such things, they kept with the continuity of not only the films, but video games as well. From the original actor, BD Wong, playing Dr. Henry Wu, to scars on the T-Rex from her fight with the raptors in the first film (implying that the new park handlers had to re-capture her!). The Mosasaur may seem a little out of the blue for many, but for those who played the Telltale Jurassic Park Game (which I highly recommend for those—like me—who have been kept awake at night by the question "What happened to Nedry's Barbasol can of embryos?!") it is yet another cameo of a dinosaur from the original park. In the game the Mosasaur was big enough to be scary, in the movie she's HUGE! Showing her growth over those 20+ years.
 |
| The human (girl approx 5.5") in this picture is approximately the same ratio of size |
 |
| To the Great White (avg between 13-16ft) in this picture. That implies the Mosasaur has doubled in size! |
Continuity is not something that always crosses the minds of movie-makers, so it shows the loving hand used when making this film.
As for the action? It's a Jurassic Park movie, come on! The beauty of the point Dr. Wu makes about this new hybrid dinosaur ("You wanted it bigger, scarier, more teeth") is that that was what they tried to do in JP3 with the Spinosaur—
Some may think:
"But aren't they just doing the same thing, only with a fake dinosaur?"
The answer is yes, and no. Yes, they introduced a new dinosaur which is bigger, scarier, and has more teeth than the T-Rex. But the way they deal with it in this film is much more honest. They genetically created this animal, manipulated every fiber of its DNA. Which was one of the points in the book which the movies were never really able to bring up. Dr. Wu finally tells it here. None of the dinosaurs in the park are true clones. None of them are accurate. They were all altered, by adding genes where ones were incomplete or, as in the book, manipulating growth rates. This was a HUGE point in the book. Not just the idea of bringing back extinct creatures, but the DNA manipulation required to do it. It was a Pandora's box concept, and admittedly would have been too much in the first movie. But by bringing it up now, when everyone understands the basics of DNA, and real world de-extinction is on the horizon (Woolly Mammoths anyone?) it is the manipulation of such DNA that we need to be thinking about.
So all in all, Jurassic World is an awesome movie, for both the intellectual who would dissect its every meaning (like me) and the casual movie-goer who wants to see some great special effects, cool dinosaurs, jump-scares and thrilling action, or Chris Pratt leading Raptors into battle! (also me)
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