Spectacles and Other Bobbles

Hello lovely readers. How have you been?

 

Do you know how crazy it is to work in an eye doctor? If not, I'll tell you.

The doctor I work for has two different offices, so I'm driving between them all week. It's a little bit confusing because each office handles things just slightly different, so I have to swap back and forth on procedures.

Basically what I do in the small office is sit at a desk all day and answer the phone. When patients come in for their appointments I take them into the exam room and get blood pressure and medicine lists and all that pretest jazz.
Sometimes when new patients come in we do little eye test games on the ipad. I keep trying to talk my trainer into downloading some fun apps onto it for the slow days. She just smiles and shakes her head. Which is odd.

I do a lot of nose pad changing and glasses cleaning, which is just as gross as you might imagine. I don't know what is on some of those things. I probably don't want to.

My boss' name is Brandon but I guess I'm not supposed to call him that. I have to call him Doctor, which just seems really sticky on my tongue.

At the big office I'm stuck in the lab most of the time, so I'm calling patients and telling them when their glasses are ready to be picked up, I'm giving people their new glasses and making sure they fit, helping people pick out frames. Little girls are the best. They will try on any crazy color or shape I give them. Women and Men are just like "I want something black."

"Not that black."

 

-_-

I do things like gluing glasses together for little boys who just grin and say "I don't know" when I ask how they smashed them to pieces.

Some days are so fast that I just want to pray that the doctor suddenly decides to go home early and all his patients go away. And some days are so slow that I'm ready to go onto the street and drag the nearest pedestrian in and force them to sit through an exam and come look at frames.
Neither of which are very good plans, so I have refrained.

Barely.

Throwback Thursday

Forgive me readers! Thursdays come way too fast lately.  I have managed to get together some snippets this week. These come from 2012, and by my calculations I would have been sixteen. Odd, cause two of these I feel like I wrote ten years ago, and the other two seem more like ten days.

Lana’s fairy tale

Deep in the heart of the wood all was still, save the chirping of the birds. Everything was as it should be, then a shrill whistle pierced the quiet. Lana frowned and whistled louder. “Vittahni!” She called. A few moments later, the wolf came slinking out of the underbrush. “Where have you been?” Lana scolded. Vittahni glared at her through yellow eyes, a small wisp of smoke floating from her nostrils. “Where do you think? I was just about to catch a delicious looking hare, when you started raising such a ruckus.”
Lana’s voice softened. “At least let me know before you go running off. There’s Ogre’s all over the woods, and I don’t want to be worried about one of them eating you.”
Vittahni’s eyes appeared skeptical. “What Ogre would eat me?”
“It could happen.” Lana assured.
“I doubt it.”

I wrote this story for my friend Lana. We used to pick a theme and write stories for each other with each of us as the main character. This was definitely the favorite of the ones I wrote for her. Yes, I did take Vittahni's name from the lion from Lion King II. I have no regrets when I say that Vittahni was my favorite character in the story. Lana makes a great friend and doppleganger, but Vittahni was a top notch firebreathing wolf. Also, her unquenchable appetite was more suited to a teenage boy, and it made her very fun to write.

Gwen #2.
Brenna lifted her chin. "Titus thinks I'm a boy, and everyone we've met while traveling did too. The only reason you know is because I was wounded."
Chael shook his head. "I would have figured it out. It just would have taken longer. Your voice is too strained, your clothes are too baggy. Your hair is too long and it makes you look pretty. Townspeople and travelers will believe whatever you tell them. As for the old man, he's half blind."

This was the sequel I tried to write for The Riders of Carstindad. It never got a name and I don't think it made it past ten pages. It wasn't cause I didn't love the story, but simply because the first book in the series had too many plot holes in it to even consider writing a second one. I was and forever will remain in love with Chael, and his name, no matter how much my mom hates it. His sass is perfection. I do plan to someday come back to this story.

Kyly Davis
The farmyard was bathed in pale moonlight. At the corner of the barn their dog Jip stood sniffing at something. All was quiet and peaceful. It seemed hard to believe that somewhere, not so far away, a war was being waged. A war that started in Fort Sumter years earlier. At first everyone had thought it would be over in a few months, if not sooner, and had rushed to enlist, not wanting to miss the action.  Now, people were coming to realize that the war between states could last much longer

This is my attempt at a re-write from the Kyly Davis I tried to write in 2011. It didn't make it much farther than the first. I still like the idea though...Would a third attempt be out of line?

Cop.
Laura had apparently been by because the house had been tidied up. There were a few things still laying around in odd places. I'd given her a list of items that were not to be moved, no matter where they were. I suddenly remembered the guy I'd left on the tv and went to get it. The woman sitting on my couch reading a newspaper was not expected.

This. Man. I wrote this story via email with Lana. He was my first (and last) attempt at a quirky character and I'm in love. Egocentric, paranoid, OCD, injured, arrogant. He's like my own original Sherlock Holmes. The man has a killer fruit experiment on his kitchen counter. And an arsenal. And no idea how to take care of a toddler.

Thank you for your patience in waiting for this post! I hope you enjoyed it.

Dear Readers...

Hello guys. I'm sorry I've been so absentee lately. I'm trying to get some sort of plan going so I can have these posts wrote on the weekend and then just post them in the mornings. I just don't have much of interest to talk about lately. I can summarize the entirety of this month into one post and I won't have left anything out. But, I'll tell you about it anyway.

The wonderful world of my life has consisted of things like text messages, glasses, tears, dust, and baby calves.

As I mentioned before, I'm working at an eye doctor. I'm starting to learn more of the details and I've even been left totally alone in the office several times and made it through without the place burning down around me. I have also not been fired, which is a huge plus. The ladies I work with are nice, and some of the work I do is really fun. I like fixing the glasses best- putting in lenses, restringing frames, changing nose pads. But front desk work isn't too bad either. The part I hate is the homework. And the weird hours. It's no fun having to get up at seven-ten one morning and six o'clock the next. I like routine.

I've been going through a breakup this month, and I can honestly say it is the hardest and most confusing thing I have ever been through in my life. I thought it would last a little longer than three weeks. Thank you, all you girls who have been praying for me. Things have gotten a lot better, and we are talking again- he's actually texting me right now, asking what my blog post is about. He's surprised I have followers. You guys are awesome.

Calving season has started and I had some guilty pleasure in having to pull a calf with dad. I didn't want him to have to pull a calf, but I am so disconnected from farm life right now that it was just great to be able to do some normal work. I tagged some calves, and we now have three bottle calves (aka, jugheads). None of them have names this year, which is a miserable failure on my part. I'm the queen of naming bottle calves. I don't even know if they are boys or girls. What a miserable excuse for a farm girl I am right now. The only part of the farm work I don't miss is the wind and dust. The wind has been blowing like mad and the dust is terrible. I can hardly see to drive home sometimes. Thank heaven for windshields.

Also, I should probably mention that I have broken my writers block. I wrote several pages in Running Crazy the other day. I had to start on the third tablet, as the second one was chuck full. So hopefully I'll have some useable snippets to share with you all soon. Fingers crossed.

There! See, I told you I could fit it all into one post. I do hope your lives have been more interesting and less stressful than mine has been lately.

Heartbreak in Melody

Why yes....I did steal the title from the song by The Wedding.

 

Borrowed! Borrowed, without permission!

 

I've been trying to think of  how to write this post for days. I tried and tried to think of a way to get it out in sarcasm and whit, but that side of me has turned murderous lately and I couldn't make a blog post out of it.

In the midst of trying to comfort me, my friend told me that heartbreak makes us better writers.
But I'm not feeling very prolific right now. I'm actually feeling kind of numb. None of my words are coming anymore. In fact, over the last few days, I've found that music has been my voice. I've been letting my ipod play on shuffle, and it seems like almost every song has a line in it that was made for me right now. The rest of the song can have nothing to do with anything I'm feeling, but there is a line, a word. Just a little piece that makes me think "Yes. That's what I mean."

Isn't it funny how the singers and songwriters we like to listen to can say things that are so us? How do they know how to so perfectly describe what we are feeling?
 

Hearts are stronger after broken- Slumber, NeedtoBreathe

 

 

'Cause I can't walk on water
And if I chase you, I might drown
And I'm already up to my neck

 

You can read all about it
About boy meets a girl and then screws the whole thing up
Just like always - Daring Daylight Escape, Caedmon's Call

No I
Couldn't be a Savior who
Leaves an empty grave for you
I couldn't be the heart that you'll seek

Oh and
Even though I'd die for you
I couldn't be a God for You
I couldn't be the air that you breathe-Hero, Connersvine

 

 

 

I bet you got pushed around

Somebody made you cold

But the cycle ends right now

'Cause you can't lead me down that road

And you don't know, what you don't know...

 

Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well.

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

You're the kind of reckless
That should send me runnin'

My mind forgets to remind me
You're a bad idea

 

 

I guess you didn't care, and I guess I liked that

And when I fell hard you took a step back

Without me, without me, without me

And he's long gone when he's next to me

And I realize the joke is on me

 

 

Throwback Thursday

I'm sorry I missed this last week. I had to work until seven that night, and I didn't have the post ready to go in the morning. Forgive me?

Anyway, these are from 2011, so I would have been 15. It was really a rather boring year for me. Only four stories that I could find dated. I'm rather fond of two of them though. Here you are.

The Diary of Katie Davage Cooper
There was a young man in church this morning I have never seen before. Cory told me that his name is Trev Cooper. She says he rode into town earlier this week, and got a job working on Jacob Andrews’ farm. Mr. Andrews has the largest farm in the area. Perhaps it is a sin of me to notice, but Mr. Cooper is quite handsome.

This story is written entirely as diary entries, which is nearly impossible because I'm so dialogue driven and it's hard to make a realistic dialogue description in a journal. I happen to love Mr. Cooper. His name is Trev. I'd really like to go back and finish this story, as it was rather tragic. I think if I ever do though, I will change it to third person.

Rattler the Ranch Dog
Hello, my name is Rattler. And I am the best ranch dog in the world. And about this coon, it all started when I was on night patrol. I heard some strange noise over by the bale pile. It was snarling. So I put my nose to the ground and started sniffing.  And I smelt a coon! I know it sounds astonishing, I mean a coon on my ranch. Well I took matters into my own hands and I grabbed him by the neck and started shaking him. And I guess I made a lot of noise because Mark stuck his head out the door and shouted, “Shut up!” Well I suppose he did not know what I was doing. So I laid off for a while until I was sure that he was asleep. Then I did it again. After a while of shaking him I knew he was dead so I dropped him and went up to the house. When Mark Kerri and all three of their girls that adore me… Have you ever been adored? Well it is just, just wonderful. Where was I? Oh, yes. When they all came out, they saw why I was barking and they all petted me. It was just wonderful!

This story is actually true. My dog didn't write it, but that is what happened. It does sound way too much like Hank the Cowdog though...Actually, it's not all true. Rattler wasn't the best ranch dog in the world. He was probably one of the worst, lol. Keeping unwanted critters away was about the only thing he was good for at all.

Kyly Davis:
If the two weren't at their own houses, they could almost certainly be found at the other's. Both boys lived for the time the newspaper would bring news on the war.

This story didn't make it very far. I was in a Civil War mood, and there were like five pages of notes stapled together for it, and only one page of actual story. The original plan was for Kyly to disguise herself as a soldier, but it never got that far.

The Rebellion:
My eyes widened at the dress she returned with. It was a lavender color, with a full skirt, and lots of ruffles. I moaned. Would it be unacceptable to wear the robe? Probably.
Feeling I'd rather face all the terrors of the Seventh Dungeon, I le the serving girl help me into the yards of material. I was willing to let her help with this. I would never be able to get it on my by myself. Finally, after much poking and prodding, she got me into the thing. I looked at the mirror and gasped, terror shooting through me. I looked completely out of sorts, and the cut of the neck- it was frightening.
I turned to the girl. "Is there something to go on top?"
The girl frowned. "The cut is very stylish and becoming."
"I don't want to be becoming." I growled.
She acted as if she didn't hear and sat down to fix my hair. It was a mournful business, as my hair hadn't been fixed inn years and refused to lay proper. Finally se got it done though. She attempted to paint my face, but that was where I drew the line. I didn't want Rashahn to think I'd gone completely mad.

This is a story I wrote with my doppleganger Lana. We did it entirely by email, with each of us writing the scenes from our own characters point of view. This scene and character (Her name is Craven, by the way) is entirely my doing. I am in love with her, and keep telling Lana that I have the first scene wrote for a sequel if we ever have time in our lives again. The writing in this is decidedly vague, and blunt, but that was on purpose, as Craven is both. Constant use of the words "the girl" and "finally" are her personality.

Thank you for reading!

I'm A Teacher

Hello guys!

Through a series of events I have become a youth group teacher. It's strange.
 See, I'm still in youth group. (I promise I tried to get out when I turned 18, but there were only three other kids there besides me, and my teacher was just crushed when she thought I was ditching, so I stayed). The class consists of me, the two minions, and then three other regulars, plus whatever kids we can fit into our vehicle on any given Wednesday, which ranges from 1-7.

Most of the time it's all girls, and they're all right around Minion 1's age.

A couple months ago our teacher had a bad fall and messed some things up, so she wasn't able to teach. Well she called my mom and told her that I would have to take over for the night.
The only kicker was, I was harvesting at that point, so I didn't know about it for hours. Then by the time I got home we had to change clothes and leave right away so we wouldn't be late. I thought I could make a lesson during the drive, but mom needed me to drive (it's frowned upon to drive and write a youth group lesson), so I had to wait. I ended up whipping together a lesson in the Dollar General parking lot while the minions bought snacks.

Long story short, I had fifteen minutes to get a lesson ready.

It was about the things girls worry about. Boys, looks, and friends.

I completely butchered it. Minion 1 kept trying to add to what I was saying, and I was running out of time, and I couldn't even read the notes I had scribbled out. It was a nightmare. All the girls there told me it was good and they understood what I was saying, but they lie. It was a nightmare.

After that we had a business meeting on Wednesday, and a couple cancellations, so there were no classes.

Then a few weeks ago my teacher had another fall (if you think of it, you might pray for her, because she still wont go to the doctor. She is almost as stubborn as me. 'Kayla, when I'm 87 years old, promise me you will make me go to the doctor if I'm being stubborn), so she called me up.

This is how our conversation went.

Me: Hello.
Her: Guess who this is.
Me: Bette.
Her: Trouble!

She literally is the old lady version of me. We finish each other sentences.

Anyway, she asked me to teach again. This time I had all afternoon, and I enlisted Minion 1, because she's is more mentally stable than I am, so she helped me get something organized.

We talked about modesty, since once again, all girls. What else are we going to talk about?

It was hilarious, because a couple of the girls looked at us like they were terrified when we started talking. I don't know, I thought wearing shirts and jeans that aren't too tight was a lot less awkward to talk about than boyfriends.
(Minion 1 told me I couldn't talk about that anyway, since I'd never had one)

We had an example backfire on us too. We printed off a bunch of pictures of famous girls who were dressed modestly (Jamie Grace, Britt Nicole, etc.) I think those girls are gorgeous, and we printed off several different styles of outfits to appeal to all the different tastes that were represented in our class.
Our point was to show them that girls can be gorgeous and still be modest.
Of course, they all made it clear that they didn't think those girls were that pretty, and their outfits were really weird.

Silly girls.

Since then, Bette has just started walking up to me Sunday's and saying
"are you teaching this week? Oh good. I'll come watch. It's really fun."

It's kind of fun to be a teacher, even though it is stressful. I think the kids like it because we hang out a lot outside of the class room and they know I'm a complete dork who isn't trying to judge or boss them around. It's also stressful and crazy, and I nearly die of a panic attack whenever one of the adults comes through the room, but at least the second lesson I presented I was able to speak English and not gibberish and the girls had a lot of interaction with the lesson.

There have been two or three boys that have been coming lately. And next week a girl requested that I teach the class about purity.

Pray for me people.

Pray for me. 

Life of a Working Gal

Guess what people!

I started a job this last Thursday.

A full time job- or it will be after I finish my training.

I'm working at an eye doctor. So far I've learned how to do minor fixes and repairs on glasses, adjust them when my teacher completely bends them out of shape, make appointments, and check inventory.

There are two clinics in different towns that I'll have to go back and forth between on certain days. One of them I will be the only one there once I'm full time, (except the actually eye doctor will be there sometimes) and the other one is huge and has lots of people. I don't go try out the big one until this Monday, so I'm not sure which one I'll like better.

I was super nervous my first day, but it went really easy.

The second day the phone rang and my boss was busy and she was just like "Do you want to answer that?"

Let me tell you about terror. I was so terrified.

But I managed to navigate my way through the computer to find what the patient needed and all was well.

I have a stack of homework that  I'm supposed to read and watch to help familiarize myself with the industry. That's a little (or a lot) mind boggling, because while I'm trying to read to find out what one word means, the explanation uses a word that I don't understand either. My brain is swimming right now in frames and lenses and plastic verses metal. If anything causes me trouble it will be the details like that. The hands on stuff I'm not having any problems learning.

I do like the job. I'll admit, I figured I wouldn't like it at all, but I had to get one. But I actually enjoyed the first two days.

My sleep has been greatly messed up due to it. I go to sleep with my alarm set and think "No problem. I'll wake up just fine." (cause no one can sleep through Thousand Foot Krutch's song Rawkfist)

But apparently my subconscious is terrified I'll oversleep, cause I wake up like every hour all night long. Makes retaining details the next day kind of difficult.

Hopefully my hidden nerves will calm down and I can go into my life well rested.

Blocks

Hello all.

I'm sorry I've not been posting much variety lately. You see, I've run into a block. A writing block. A reading block. I just can't seem to get in the mood for the fictional world lately.

I started Prodigy by Marie Lu, and I do like it, but I'm not in love with it yet.

Last week while sitting in the back of the room at quilt guild I wrote about a hundred words in Running Crazy before I lost all inspiration. That's about the only writing I've done on it all month. I've messed with RP Fantasy briefly, but nothing substantial.

It's got me feeling kind of bummed, honestly. I know I've had these before, and eventually I will get motivated again, but until then I am just stuck with the feeling of wanting to do something with my stories, but not being able to think of anything. I'm just so tired lately, and my brain is racing a thousand miles an hour trying to deal with the real things in my life, that when I come home in the evenings I just want to curl up in bed. Or- if I must stay with the awake world- stare at a computer screen where I don't have to put forth any effort to think and process.

I will come out of it eventually, and I'm going to try to spice up my blog posts whether I feel like writing or not.

Is there anything you want to read about?