The beauty in both

I am the right brain.

I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion.

Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter.

I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feet.

I am movement. Vivid colors.

I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas.

I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel.

I am everything I wanted to be.

-Mercedes Benz

Have you ever looked at the ocean? I mean really looked? Did the different shades of blue, green and gray bleed into one solid color or did you manage to pick out the sparkling hues? Did you notice how the water reflects the sky, making it clear and turquoise on bright sunny days while clouds and rain gives it a darker slate color? Standing on the sand as waves lap the shore, one might wonder what it would be like to instead be perched on the ocean floor with thousands of pounds of water pressing in at you from all sides. Frightening? Or calming? What about the bodies of land that plunge into the depths for miles, have you ever imagined their upside down peaks creating a whole new world? It would be not unlike our own, except instead of sky and clouds there would be seaweed and brightly colored fish. Or a sandy ceiling. Wouldn't that be interesting? This is what goes on in a writer's head while standing on a cliff overlooking the Pacific.

Being a writer does not make you a different species, it simply means that you constantly use your imagination in new and exciting ways. Instead of watching someone go by and judging their clothes, hair, makeup etc, different stories are being made up around this person. Maybe the older woman shopping for baby clothes with tears in her red eyes is thinking about her granddaughter. And the fact that her daughter will never be there to watch the infant grow into adulthood. Or perhaps that young man fussing over his hair in the wall mirror is waiting to meet his future wife, struggling to tame his unruly locks before the proposal. It's all about vision.

As most of you know, the word on the street is that creativity uses the right side of the brain. Painting, drawing, playing music, writing and any other right-brained skill promotes a certain type of wiring that connects to your imagination, letting it flow instead of walling it up behind stereotypes and boxed-in thinking. It is a very freeing ability, to create things and have control over the words you use and the meanings they contain. One could come up with a name, Ria for example, and make up an entire plot based on this one character. She could be a comedian from Australia, come all  the way to New York to grace the stage with her humorous presence. That's just the short version, but so many things could happen along the way, she could meet a shark while swimming for instance, and it could pass her by without so much as a second glance. Or it could eat her. You see, the first would be the beginning of a very interesting story, while the second more suits the end. (I would choose the first, personally).

Now don't fool yourself into thinking that Non fiction writers do not require the use of their imaginations as well, they do. Their job is to make something that is (possibly) utterly boring and turn it into an article that is enjoyable and entertaining to read, a piece that would catch your eye in the Friday paper. This is hard! I've had to do such writing before, not often by choice, and I find it much more difficult than fiction writing. Although, if one engages in both types, they will realize that the two go hand in hand. Even if your forte is Non-fiction, practicing writing plots and creating characters can only help enhance your skill, and vice versa. There is a beauty in both. This is one reason why I chose to start a blog, to see if I COULD write both. I know I'm not great at it and fantasy/fiction writing will always be my style of choice but I can see it helping and so will continue to incorporate it into my "practice".

On a different note, if you, aspiring author or not, ever find yourself struggling with your thoughts or unable to come up with an idea that needs to come to life, go for a walk. Whether it be raining, snowing, sunny or stormy (not too stormy though, you don't want to get blown away...although that would make for an interesting story, assuming you survive) walking amongst nature is the best way to clear your mind and allow the things you want to think about to come to the forefront, recieving your full attention. There is just something so invigorating about strolling through the forest or along the beach, and you'll realize that there are so many possibilities! Everyone and everything has a story, whether it be real or fictional, all you have to do is discover it. And write it down. Yes it may be pouring rain outside but that gives me an idea for a story right there, or at least an opening paragraph. So if you find yourself stuck, writer's block, headache, whatever it is, take a walk. It can only bring relief...and a flow of creativity.

Variety is the spice of life

One thing about waitressing is that you are constantly dealing with people. The friendly ones, the nasty ones and the gushy ones. YOU must meet their every request and take care of them as if they were your own family. Or else...well they probably won't come back if their experience is unpleasant and that reflects badly on your restaurant. It's really the perfect occupation for a writer, so many ideas for characters and scenes! Some of the customers I have had to serve have been wonderfully charming. In fact, yesterday I got lucky with a table of four english ladies who loved me - one of them left me a little extra something...she loved me the most. At first they weren't too sure about me, but once I brought them their starter round of drinks (mostly wine) and told them I was not able to pour them because of my age illegality, they found that cute and began reassuring me that they were perfectly capable of pouring it themselves. Even the sternest of them all, a very composed woman with ear length brown hair and an alcohol lover-apparent nose laughed at my little quips and took to smiling at me whenever I walked by. You see? The good ones are terrific...the bad ones...well, next paragraph.

There were two tables in two days that had rowdy, impolite and inapropriate customers. Unfortunately, both tables were given to a fellow waitress and she was not happy. The one she had yesterday treated her so poorly they provoked tears, and then proceeded to linger outside, inebriated beyond belief. Finally the woman of the trio came in, paid their bill and they left; not without a sigh of relief from front of house. But then again, this type of thing is to be expected, and we simply learn to take the good with the bad, which is outnumbered by the first 99 to 1.

I was trained to work in the kitchen mainly, through my culinary arts training and fast food experience. I have been working in the restaurant industry for nearly 10 years, cooking, serving, cleaning, you name it, I've done it. I like to think this makes me a triple threat in the business, something I proved this last evening by helping out when it got too slow to do anything but sit and wait, something I am not partial to. If I am getting paid to work, I am going to put myself to use until my shift is over instead of lounge around waiting to be told what to do. I even feel guilty for taking a break! That's something that needs to change...

As for waitressing, this is the first time I have actually tried it rather than cooking as a job, and I must say, the two are equal. You might think that serving is more difficult because we are in charge of sitting them down, taking their orders, bringing their food and drinks, checking  back, printing the bill, running after them to get a signed merchant copy, cleaning their table and then doing it all over again, but no. The kitchen has just as hard a time of it. You see, cooking their meal takes a good portion of time and making sure it is prepared correctly is a trick unto itself, something my boyfriend has mastered quite effortlessly - he's a natural born cook. And then there is always prep to do. While the other servers were taking a break, I was helping in the kitchen tearing lettuce, cutting mars bars (we serve deep fried mars bars...yes, you read that right), battering the mars bars, portioning yam fries etc..so as you can imagine, the cooks do not often get bored.

And yet, I still enjoy waitressing more. Despite the sore, swollen legs and long hours, the people I meet make for a very interesting day. So far I have had tables of Americans, Germans, Englishmen, Frenchies (I do not say that derogatorily, they were some of my favorite customers), Native Americans and of course, locals. I've made mistakes (some more horrendous than others) but lessons have been learned and those errors have not and will NEVER be made again. The place I work acts as more of a family than a host of employees and employers, there are harsh words, impatient gestures and frustrated sighs but a pat on the back and credit where it is due is never far behind. And we all stand behind one another 100%, there if needed, there if not. In fact, now that I think about it, the job I have now is probably the best one I have ever had, and I can't wait to see what else happens this summer. Well, I shall post again soon, goodbye!

The money blues

My money talks to me. It likes to say, "Bybye."

My father told me this quote yesterday and it struck me right away as being terribly true. Our money really does say goodbye as it's flying from our hands, waving like the Queen of Shiba. I'm sure it has a jolly time off on dozens of new adventures as it changes possession time and time again, but what about us? We have to go and work hard simply to earn it back, nevermind actually make enough for a nestegg. I really admire those who put away money each month, patiently waiting for years as they build their bank accounts or safes (whichever one they fancy) and spend frugally. I'm quite the frug myself. (Another new word. You see, I wrote "frug" - Fr-OO-g - instead of "prude", much kinder I think.) Whenever I see something I want, I usually go home and think about it, working myself up into an excitement over buying this one 'thing'. By the time I return to pay for it, the item just doesn't meet my expectations and I bypass it, going on to the next one. As you can probably imagine, this has saved me from quite a few ridiculous splurges - a handy quality, I should say!

Sometimes I wish we could go back to the days when trades were the common currency. You have a rabbit? I have a duck, let's trade! Tit for tat, you know? People were more satisfied with their "purchase" that way, and if something went askew, a hot headed brawl ensued - entertainment included! But the "powers that be" didn't like that very much. It gave them little control, if any, and so gave the people too much freedom, which the PTB began trying to diminish years ago. Wampum also sounded rather promising, attractive jewelry being made into a type of coinage used for exchanging. But alas, identical to the problem today, too much of it was made and so it dropped in value. It dropped straight out of the system. Too bad, if we couldn't have stuck with the bartering program it would have been nice to at least have pretty money.

Speaking of pretty, have you seen the new bills that are coming out now? Plastic and even more fake than the paper stuff. Pretty soon, the old 5, 10, 20, 50 and 100 dollar bills are going to be collector's items. Like the 2 dollar bill - I wish I had one of those. But despite the government's near complete takeover of the monetary system, they will never be able to degrade the value of gold and silver (At least I hope not!). Sure it rises and falls with the tides, but in the end I believe it will strand strong. Like David in David and Goliath. Sorry, totally random thought.

Money, or rather the lack of, has the power to destroy as well as to create. They built all of those enormous skyscrapers in the big cities with money, money they could print off their machines as fast as they were spending it if they wanted. But those buildings destroyed thousands of miles of nature; trees and animals, all for the sake of what? Oh, right, the growing population. I know they say the Earth is overpopulated but what they fail to mention is...well...that it's not. If people were taught to grow their own food and provide for themselves instead of consuming without producing, the Earth would be a much happier place, and without many of the problems we 'enjoy' today. Yet, again, the issue of elite control comes back into play.

I have a friend who's mother is best friends with mine and she works long exhausting days to provide for her children. The oldest one (my friend) just turned eighteen, and so her mother stopped recieving the monthly government allowance while at the same time, the men on pedestals decided she was not paying enough taxes for the amount of money she was making. Can you believe it? My boyfriend experienced rather similar treatment after a car accident he was in last summer. Not only was he charged a large monetary sum, but his license was taken away for nearly a year. How is that supposed to help improve his driving? (And the accident wasn't even his doing). The reasoning that we are subjected to today leaves me baffled and angry, is this justice?

Yesterday I finally bought my first car. It didn't happen in the way I expected but it happened, and I don't regret my decision - it's a good little car and exactly what I was looking for, even though it does have a few issues (of course) that are entirely fixable. The thing that dampened my excitement was the procedure I had to go through AFTER buying the vehicle. Insurance and signing papers and dishing out even more of my hard earned, hard saved money made me yearn for the old days when my biggest worries were whether I would get to have a "play-date" with my best friend or get the doll I was after. Simple things. When you're young, all you want to do is grow up but once you hit a certain age the younger years are much more appealing than the future ones. I geuss I hit it a little early. My father told me that I have to be careful of my possessions owning me. In other words, once I have things that require monetary support, aka: a job, I have to keep bringing in the moola in order to keep hold of that item. I started with a phone and the monthly payments that go with that, then a laptop with all the trappings and now a car, the biggest one of all. Good thing I'll be working two jobs this summer, eh?

Anyways, I don't have much time before I head off for a VERY busy day at work, but I needed to get some thoughts off my chest. And the scary thing is, I haven't even scratched the scratch in the surface on the money subject, but maybe that will be initiative for you to go find out more yourself, something I need to do as well. Knowledge is power and ignorance is bliss. Which would you prefer?

Octopus attack

I'm living the dream. Sitting in a carmen-red armchair of this rustic little bakery with the ocean only a hundred feet away, a small dock playing house to quite a few sail and fishing boats and a large expanse of pristine blue sky. Can it get much better? The laid back cafe music and laptop beneath my fingers only add to the mood, and even having my father sitting across from me doing the same thing makes it more fun. When I walked in this morning, I was dreading the five hour wait before my working interview at one of the restaurants around here - I'm going to be a waitress and I really hope they like me enough to give me part time. But now, with the relaxing environment and movie-like feel (uh oh, I'm going to get called out on that one later) I've decided to just live in the moment and not fret about anything. If I'm meant to have the job, I'll get it, and if not then I'm sure there's something else waiting for me around the corner.

So this morning, after my puppy woke me up to go outside, I fell back asleep only to dive headlong into the strangest dream I've had in a long time. One thing you should know about me is that I am the queen of dreams. Or so I would think, simply because I have had the largest variety of dreams out of anyone I know, of course there are billions more people in the world, but humor me. Some of my sleep-induced journies have been like epic adventures with snowy mountainous terrain and helicopters hovering above places no man would dare venture while I have also had nightmares that could chill sharkblood. I always remember my dreams and by now have such a large repertoire that it would take a short book to cover them all. But my most recent one is brief enough to write about here. Which is what I'm about to do.

I am on an enormous ship, titanic-like, in the middle of a wild and stormy sea. A large group of people is with me, including many of my friends, close acquaintances and grade 12 culinary arts teacher. I am walking towards the rear of the boat with a huge hunk of raw halibut in my hands, bigger than I am wide, and open the window to toss it into the waves. After it splashes into the ocean, I wait a few moments to see if any creatures will come after it. Sure enough, shapes begin to explode from the depths, diving in and out of the storm in hot pursuit. Dolphins! I think to myself in excitement. I could finally say I have seen bottle-nosed dolphins while on a sea vessel. I know that I should go and tell my boyfriend but I really don't want to, and to miss anything at this point would be horrific.

I watch them, wondering how they are keeping up with the ship's ridiculous speed when suddenly I begin to fall sideways. Sure enough, the boat flips upside down, held above the water by a rocky outcrop coming from a mountain that had simply popped into existence. It is sunny by now and I hear shouts of "it was a whale!"  echoeing across the water. A whale had capsized our ship. As we quickly jump out onto the sand-covered rock, two bulbous heads rise from the water, which by this time reaches the edge of the beach. At the same time, my shoe falls off and I yell "Grab it!" to the boy closest to me. He tries to stop it from rolling down the slope, but a slimy tenticle begins to crawl up his leg and he panics, racing away from both it and my shoe. I start to throw rocks at the octopus heads but only succeed in provoking them. The first one bursts forward, all twelve arms waving in the air wildly with only one purpose; to destroy me. I simply turn away from the monster and find myself on another rocky beach where everyone else is far ahead of me, picking their way across small boulders.

My teacher is calling out "Keep ahold of your life buddies!" and I realize that I am the only one without a partner. An old ex-boyfriend comes up to me, arm linked with a female friend of ours and my first thought is "I wonder if they're going to be together soon" before another pair joins us - my big brother (well he's LIKE a brother) and another boy, arms linked just like the first two. I start to wonder if I'm going to die when I wake up again. A good place to hit the road if you ask me.

The most interesting part about this dream was that during the octopus attack, I was aware of being asleep. I knew that if this were a regular nightmare I would be sweating and tangling myself up in the bedsheets, heart pounding. But since I understood that this was not real life, I was able to control my fear and "get away". Neat eh? Well that's my dream, maybe I'll post more articles about my nighttime exploits whenever I have one worth mentioning, sound good? Deal.
Anyways, that's it for now so have a great day!

In the public eye

I know that sunglasses are not exactly healthy for your eyes, but have you ever slipped on a pair and gazed up at the sky? Especially on a sunny day dotted with clouds where the huge masses of white fluff are thrown into sharp relief, their edges outlined in golden sunlight. I did this today as I took my puppy for a stroll and I was in such awe that I should have walked into something; but I didn't. My eyes have always been extremely sensitive to light and I can barely glance at a daylit sky, but with sunglasses, I can look at it without the usual eye-watering pain. And so, I saw giant cumulous clouds along with a fuzzy rain shadow that took up a small portion of the sky, and it painted quite the scene. Gold, white, blue and gray - now I know why these shades go so well together. Like green and brown, they are all colors of nature, and in my opinion nature never clashes (color wise). But "sunglasses and clouds" is not the topic for this post so I'll get on with it.

You know those motivational stories about people overcoming obstacles and finding success in their lives? The ones where, once they've ended, you feel like getting up and dancing or singing, basically doing whatever incredible skill the protagonist has demonstrated in the story? People live vicariously through the lives of others, on screen or within pages no less. Shouldn't they be living actively through their own experiences? After watching a movie where the hero prevails and achieves his dream, the audience has that feeling of accomplishment themselves, as if they are the victorious ones. And yet, when I look around, I realize that I don't need to watch one of those movies or read a book to feel the same inspiration. I just need to pay attention to the things going on in front of my very nose, which are many and not far between.

For example; the woman jogging down the street with her rather chubby belly bouncing up and down as she huffs and puffs her way to weight loss and health - she's probably embarrassed. But she also knows that it is up to her to take the first step and, despite her self consciousness, she still ventures out into the public eye and gives it her all, no matter who might see. This is courage. That young boy who sits by himself at lunch because he won't go along with the rest of the school mob's twisted ideas - he's probably wishing he could. But he understands the difference between staying true to himself and giving up to his peers who want to assimilate him into their "culture". This is bravery.

Are these not people to look up to? One day I was at the gym with a fellow fitness buddy and as we parted ways to explore seperate machines I noticed a strange looking man walk in. He was tall, and walked with an odd duck-like waddle, sticking his bottom way out. He wore gray sweatpants and between their elastic waistband and his shirt protruded a large pot belly; not the prettiest picture. I could hear him cycling a few spaces away and was surprised at the amount of effort he put into it. He was working hard! As he continued to exercise, turning the pedals as fast as he could, I began to gain a certain amount of respect for this peculiar man. After about a half hour, two early-teenage girls walked in. They fiddled with the equipment a bit, did two captain's chair raises each and then sat down on a mat, passing a medicine ball back and forth between them. Once they caught sight of him though, a giggle fest ensued. They pointed and snickered behind their hands, laughing at the man's sweat laden clothes and swayed posture. Now, it might just be me, but this struck me as disgusting. For these girls to come into a gym and play around with a weighted ball, then judge another person as they work their head off...well it did not sit well with me. I kept thinking to myself; At least he's here. At least he's trying. What are you doing?

Unfortunately, I'm not one for conflict so I simply glared at them, arms crossed, until they stopped and left the room. I know this might have been a slight overreaction on my part but what would you have done? Just let them laugh? I couldn't. Not when I admired the perseverance and focus exhibited by this stranger. He deserved more than that. So the next time you see someone taking the initiative to make a positive change in their life, no matter how funny they look, try to remember that it is probably hard enough for them as it is without other people putting them down. They need encouragement, not disdain. And when you find yourself in their position, don't be afraid to expect the same in return. :)

Car drama

At the moment, I am looking to buy my very first car and I'm surprised at how difficult it is to find one that suits me. I'm not being overly picky, well not in my opinion, but there just doesn't seem to be a nice little ve-hicle that wants to be owned by a crazy girl like me. I don't care if its a bit beat up on the outside as long as it runs well and has good fuel economy - in other words is not a gas guzzler - and is not going to involuntarily combust or anything like that, although the color does matter. Beige, burgundy and neon pink are out, purple, green, turquoise, blue, red, black, silver and white are all in. Yeah yeah, I know, that's so "girly" of me but in view of my usual tomboyishness I think I'm allowed to have some princess moments, don't you?

Although my goal is to work my way up to a mustang, my perfect car (for now) would be small (to the point of fitting in the "small car" parking spot), one of the acceptable colors listed above, great on gas, running smoothly and the owner of a nice face. Yes, I said face. There is no way that I am the only one on this planet that sees the headlights, license plate and grate and thinks of it as a face. Or as a type of bug. For instance, a little round and red 2 door car is obviously a ladybug! Some automobiles have friendly although rather spaced-out faces, such as mini coopers, others have bored faces (can you say mazda 666?) while still others have seriously evil expressions that shoot daggers at you as they race down the highway; the chevy camaro. I do have many friends that think me completely out of my mind but I think they are sadly without imagination, something I consider much worse than insanity.

Price is also a large part of buying a car, and I am definitely not willing to dish out thousands of dollars on a ve-hicle that I most likely won't have for longer than a few years at best. My price range is low. Nothing as ridiculous as expecting to pay 200 dollars for a new in-great-condition ride, but low enough. Like I said, all I've ever really dreamed of for my first car is a little thing that starts every time, runs well, looks good for the most part and doesn't take gas in one ear and out the other (yes I'm aware cars do not have ears). I've actually seen many for sale within my budget but I want it to be "love at first sight" you know? I won't buy something that doesn't appeal to me (princess moment #2).

Even though I have probably fooled you all into thinking that I am an expert on cars, I'm really not. Not only have I never been interested in the mechanics of these hunks of metal, the different makes have always simply molded into one; a car. However, now that I've been attempting to purchase one of my own, every little detail pops out at me on every little ve-hicle. If a whole line up of these things go by me, I am noticing the color, "brand", number of doors, condition, sound and paint job within a split second all the while wondering if they are manual or automatic and what it would be like to drive one. My walks have turned into study sessions.

I'm planning on lining up a half dozen cars and going over on the ferry to visit them next week, so I'm looking forward to that, but unfortunately replies from the owners are mandatory if I want to set up an appointment. Silly, I know. Anyways, it's off to bed with me, I've been going to sleep at unusually early hours and realized that waking up before 9 a.m. and having a full day ahead of me is really much more enjoyable than sleeping through half of it and then staying up until 4 in the morning. It's also very freeing to know that I am not being forced to get up for school, something I don't particularly miss. Well, goodnight again, and I hope you enjoyed my utterly random car post. :)

It's not just you

Today is the type of day that calls for a blanket, sun-umbrella and good long book. The only problem with that is that I want to curl up with MY book. You know, the one I'm writing? Actually, after taking a few days off writing posts, I'm finding my creative juices flowing much more smoothly. In fact, I just finished writing an event in a way I've never even considered. I had not thought about it for more than a few moments before the words started spilling onto the page, and it works! It seems as though I've continued to write my story simply to find out what happens next for myself which, in my opinion, this is the best way to go. It keeps me involved and curious, exploring my fantasy world with a kind of innocence that I could not have if I knew exactly what was going to occur and when. But even though the words are coming, sometimes they don't show up in the order or with the depth that I would like them to.

Writing is a struggle. Especially to begin with. One could practice for years and still come across that internal battle of clashing thoughts at least once in a while if not on a regular basis. You see, often times I will put down a paragraph that sounds perfect; flowing and exciting to read, and yet another version of the same event will literally dance beyond my reach, taunting me into frustration. I try to grasp it, to mold the words into something more meaningful, but whatever my subconscious is trying to portray is too advanced for my understanding, and it slips away. It's like there is a dam inside of my mind, holding back a much higher level of skill or insight, or both, and I need to break it down. But how? Is this also simply a matter of "practice makes perfect"? Or is there some kind of trigger that will force that barrier to crumble like crackers beneath my shoe? I'm sure it's the first, hoping it's the second, but either way I know both take time.

In the past I've taken a look at my favorite authors - Cinda Williams Chima, Christopher Paolini, Suzanne Collins, J.R.R. Tolkien  and David Clement-Davies to name a few - and wondered how they do it. They've taken something they love to do and turned it into a job where they have to sit for hours just like a regular work day and meet deadlines just like any other employee. Doesn't that diminish the joy of their craft? That's what I would have thought, then. Now I understand that to make a career out of the very thing you were meant to do in life is actually a gift. A gift that not many people have acheived in the over-all scheme of things. The feeling I get when I sit down and write a good section of my book is unparalleled by anything else, it's unbeatable, and to experience that every day? Well that would be bliss.

So for any of you that are also aspiring authors and asking yourself "is it just me?" NO! It's not just you, trust me. I know what you're going through, but I also know that perseverance will prevail and that's what we will do; prevail. As an excellent writer once said (my father) "Writing is the art of putting into words that which you observe" and he's right. For those who think they can't do it, try. Go outside and find an interesting part of nature or even something man-made found amongst nature and write about it. Photograph it, paint it, whatever the area of your creative streak, put it to use. There's no time like the present and if you can do it today, why wait till tomorrow?