Month: August 2013

Libby’s post: Waking up a Vampire

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Hi everyone. My name is Libby and I just had to hijack this blog. Everyone is always talking about my friend Emme. Emme and the Lost Colony, Emme and her new locket, Emme and her strange visions. The usual author of this blog is even writing a book about her. Well, I have some interesting news and I just had to share it with you.

Okay, so you’re not going to believe me, but today I woke up a vampire. This is what happened:

My head pounded like a bad rap song and my neck ached like my neighbor’s craning spine after a day of eavesdropping. I reached for the ibuprofen that lived on my nightstand and fell to the ground. I nearly screamed. I wasn’t in bed; I was on the picnic table under our humongous oak tree. And I was hot. Like on fire. Even in the shade my skin was literally frying.

I ran for the door, trying not to vomit on my favorite Juicy Couture top. Sitting on the doorstep was a brown paper bag and a vial of pinkish liquid. Uh, okay, totally weird. I grabbed the vial and bag and slammed the door behind me. Morpheus, my cat, was on the counter rubbing his head against the can opener.

Oh my god… it was past four in the afternoon. I fed the cat and fell into the couch. It was Friday, right? I ran through the events of the previous night, trying to figure out how I’d gotten drunk enough to fall asleep outside.

My friend, Emme, had come over for dinner and we each had a couple of glasses of wine, totally normal, right? After she left, I painted my toenails a super cute bubble gum pink color. But I didn’t have anything else to drink, did I?

Then I went out back to check on Morpheus and everything went black. Like really black. Not a fuzzy black, where I sort of remember dancing in giant clown shoes on your coffee table, Hot Toddy in hand–it was an utter, void-filled, black.

I dumped the contents of the paper bag onto the couch. There were three more vials, all filled with a clear liquid, and a note. The penmanship was pretty good, but definitely male. The author said he was the one who changed me and now I had a mission. Ugh.  A mission? Seriously? Now that I was a vampire, couldn’t I just live in dark, gothy mansions and lurk around drinking blood? Yuck! The thought of drinking blood was (is) repulsive. But, according to the note, I’d already drank the stuff once and my next meal should be soon.

I flicked the note across the room and freed my blond hair from its ponytail. Evan wouldn’t be home until Thursday. My husband was on one of his weekly trips out of state, so I’d have a couple of days to embrace the new me.

What should I do first? Maybe check out my new fangs in the mirror? Or see if I can fly? Or even better, see if I can become a bat? I looked out the window at the flock of kids passing by. Maybe I should see about getting something to eat??

 

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Pinterest: Now offering shots of courage

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Courage can come from many places: supportive words from friends and family, an inspirational story, or from deep within yourself.

Well, for me, it came from Pinterest. Not the site per say, but from the quotes I had curated (doesn’t that sound fancy) on one of my boards.

In my last post I talked about my mind-blowing decision to quit my job. But, I still had to give my notice. That would be easier said than done. I’d worked with these people for what felt like forever in my 36-year-old mind. The night before I gave my resignation I frittered about, unable to settle myself. My husband offered me a glass of wine and I said, “no.” Yikes!

Then I logged onto Pinterest and found my new board of inspirational quotations. You know things like “hang in there” or “there is no I in team.” Well, instead of those gems, I had pinned things like:

“If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting the rest of our lives.” –Lemony Snicket

“If you are not willing to look stupid, nothing great is ever going to happen to you.” –Dr. Gregory House

“Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith.” –Margaret Shepard

I read through quotes from the likes of Mark Twain, Calamity Jane and Pablo Picasso. Some were not credited to an author; some were about unicorns and mermaids. The butterflies in my stomach settled and my mind stopped rehearsing the resignation speech it had been stuck on all day.

The jitters found me again in the morning, but I pushed them aside. I walked into my boss’s office and just did it. She took it well and that was it. I was a victor over my own self-doubt and society’s insistence on a life of conformity.

The remaining weeks of my six-year tenure, floated by. My last day came and went as if nothing special had happened. I mean, people said their goodbyes. I had a lovely going away party. I gave away treasured items from my cube. Who knew a picture of Ace Ventura with my head plastered over Jim Carey’s would be so coveted?

But nothing special happened inside me. I just walked out of the building for the last time and loaded my things in the car. I didn’t crumple with regret or have confetti thrown over me with trumpets blaring. I didn’t feel sad or afraid or excited or anything. I just was. It was strange. I guess I was just content, satisfied maybe?

I woke up the next day and logged onto my Pinterest account. I clicked on one of my favorite quotes and “the people who pinned this also pinned” feed came up. I scanned down until I found it. The perfect quote:

“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes but when you look back everything is different…” –C. S. Lewis

Then, of course, since I am a Pinterest addict, I also found:

“That was the day she made herself the promise to live more from intention and less from habit.”

Very appropriate I thought, until I stumbled upon this one:

“Oh, dear. I really ought to do something but I am already in my pajamas.”

Wow, it’s like they read my mind. Not really though, I am actually quite productive in my pajamas. What do you think I was wearing when I wrote this?

P. S. If you’re wondering about the mermaid and unicorn quotes here they are:

“Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.” –Author Unknown

“I still like to pretend I’m a mermaid whenever I go swimming. (I’m 28)” –Author Unknown

The Decision (to believe in myself)

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I quit my job a few weeks ago. There, I said it. After 6 years of steady, benefit filled employment, I quit. It felt less ceremonial than I imagined. Maybe it’s because I quit long ago, I just never told my body to stop driving in each day to sit in my three-walled cube.

My internal rumblings of dissatisfaction began a while ago, an itch here, a bout of malaise there. Sometimes my frustration peaked rapidly and then deflated with a whoosh. Other times it built slowly, festering, into a quiet contempt.

It’s not that I didn’t like working per se or even working in my current industry. I was just ready for something new–a new challenge, a new adventure. But, I had fallen into the lull of routine, of the known, the easy. It was scary to leave a secure job and embark on something new, something where failure was a possibility.

Then, almost exactly a year ago, I took the first step. I asked to work part time. And within a month, I was working 24 hours per week. This helped. It really did. I was less prickly both at work and at home. I had more free time to work on my novel. And, in my world, Wednesday was the new Friday.

The problem was I still wasn’t happy. This is how things went for most of the year:

Me: Why am I still working there? I don’t like it anymore. I want to do something different.

My husband: Why don’t you look for something else?

Me: Where would I find something that paid this well and still allowed me to work part time?

My husband: Do you want a glass of wine?

Me: Just bring the whole bottle. (Not really, but you get where I’m going.)

Then, something just happened. I’d been working on my novel since November and I was feeling really great about it (my emotions about my book waffle between sheer brilliance and the possibility that vampires are so 1897). I felt confident, bold, and unstoppable. So, bolstered by my new inspirational board on Pinterest, I decided to quit. This is how it went:

Me: I think I’m going to quit. I’ve decided to give my notice on July 1st.

My husband: Sounds good. You know I believe in you. What are we going to do for money?

Me: I dunno. Maybe I can do some consulting work. It’ll be great. Plus, I have a best-selling book on my hands. Remember?

My husband: Oh yeah. We’ll be millionaires soon. How about a glass of champagne?

Me: Yes. Make it something fancy. Like Cristal or Dom Perignon. You know, since we will be straight ballers soon.

And with that, the decision was made. Where do I go from here? I have some ideas. Of course, a publishing contract is in my future 🙂