Good news: A literary agency requested my full manuscript about a week ago.
Bad News: I haven’t written anything in a while, other than melodramatic diary entries that are more embarrassing and revealing than creative.
I had a revelation last night, one that shocked and dismayed me to the point of smoking a cigarette, something I haven’t done in years. I was being wasteful of time and energy, binge-watching that show “Scandal” on Netflix, when the main character said something like, “Because if he doesn’t remember what happened, it’s like he doesn’t care. And if he doesn’t care enough to remember, it’s like he’s implying that it never happened.” My jaw dropped because those words express my fears and anxieties so exactly. For quite some time, I’ve been hiding from and rejecting the very possible reality that I have been forgotten, and that I am not missed. I need to genuinely understand and embrace the possibility that the entire experience was all my creation, that it is all in my head and it was only ever in my head.
But I fight with myself. I swing back and forth between being a scared, stupid and silly girl with a crush, to a woman who was in love but was denied. One option makes me interesting while the other makes me weak and foolish. Both options, however, are definitely unappealing. I think about the events that transpired constantly, and do my best to remember vividly how it all was because those memories are all I have, the only evidence that I crossed paths with someone amazing at all.
That truth depresses me, nearly knocks the wind from me.
But I’ve told all of this before. Maybe that truth is what really depresses me, that I have nothing new to say as I am stuck.
Heartache may make a woman more interesting, but I think I’d be content to be boring for a while, so long as it meant that I was happy.
Yesterday, I traveled to Adrenaline – the tattoo and piercing place – because I lost the horseshoe for my nose and wanted another one. There was a young woman at the counter whom I would have sworn I had never seen before in my life. But as I walked up, she asked, “Are you Bean?” I replied in the affirmative, and she asked me if I taught at the high school and again, I replied in the affirmative. I asked if she was a student, or the sibling of a student, and she surprised me by telling me she was a classmate. We rode the bus together when she was in first grade and I was in fifth, and I would tell her stories on the ride to and from school. I have no recollection of it, but the idea that I’ve been telling stories all my life makes me smile.
Until I consider that I’ve been telling them to myself. I think the fairy tale I’ve stored up in my heart may be nothing more than a story. I wish my writing could change that. I suppose that’s why I do it.
I know that my last post had its ups and downs, but on the whole, it was a bit of a downer because it emphasized the negative parts of the trip. I do not know why I did that, especially because the trip was amazing, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I think a large part of my problem, what keeps me from being genuinely happy nine times out of ten, is that I rarely accentuate the positive. I am going to make a concerted effort to do so, but unfortunately, it is not going to happen in this post. But the next one will be exceedingly uplifting, I promise, and I am starting to really keep the promises I make to myself so that I can learn to trust myself.
I am going to begin with the bad news, since this post’s title predetermined the order. On Tuesday, I went to the doctor because I was having an odd, somewhat painful sensation in my stomach. Apparently, this is where my gall bladder is located and so I was sent to receive an ultrasound of my gall bladder. The technician said the organ looked good, that there were no signs of inflammation or anything like that. She also explained that if my doctor reads the scans and still believes that it is my gall bladder, then I will be sent for a functionality test. If the gall bladder is no longer functioning, then it will have to be removed. This news is not devastating, nor terrible, and it is not even resolved, so I may be complaining for nothing. But, as those of you who regularly read this blog know, that is one of my favorite pastimes.
The other bad news plaguing my mind is the untimely, tragic death of actor Cory Monteith. He played the role of Finn Hudson on the television show, “Glee,” and quickly became one of my fictional boyfriends. His character was absolutely and without a doubt my favorite on the show. When Sammy and I went to the filming of the movie, I embarrassed her royally by screaming out his name so that he would turn and wave. It worked, and then I pretended to faint, and he laughed and smiled, and Sammy was mortified. But it was all worth it because he was incredibly talented, handsome, humble, and genuine. He will sorely be missed by his fans and assuredly his loved ones as well.
Now for some good news; I am scheduled, albeit tentatively, to have an event at the Toms River Branch of the Ocean County Library! Around 7:00PM on February 18, 2014, I will be able to read a selection from my novel and engage in a discussion! As you can tell by my excessive use of exclamation points, I am very excited.
More good news; I was able to spend some quality time with my cousins Brittany and Melinda, who are two of the strongest women I know. They work so hard and do so ceaselessly, are loyal to family, and are somehow able to persevere through situations that would leave me worn and wearied. I love them and thank God that they are part of my family.