Dear 25 Year Old

This is kind of a wild hair I guess, but I was reading a post by Mackenzie where she wrote a letter to herself in five years. For some reason, it just seemed really fun. I'm not even sure why, or what purpose it is supposed to serve. I'm not doing the Blogtober challenge. I'm not even sure what it is, frankly. As I was reading her's however, I kept thinking of what I would say in mine if I wrote one, then at the end she went and asked what her readers would write to themselves, so I just had to take the opportunity.

So. I letter to the 25 year old version of Maddie.


Hey Maddie- Yo, what up man? I hope you haven't sunk so far that you don't call girls 'dude' at every opportunity. 
By my calculations you should be twenty-five now. You're kind of an old grinder. 
Please tell me that you have dyed your hair some form of pink in that length of time. 
So how old is little Amos? Probably about three, huh? Is Henry on the way then? I'm sure they're super adorable little hellions. 
Do you still have the Impala and have you hit any deer with it? The only way I would possibly forgive you for denting that car is if it was on a massive buck deer and you didn't damage the horns. They better be mounted somewhere to sooth my heartache. 
What house are you living in? Did you end up in town? Have you mastered how to write Madeline Jean Wilson really pretty? You sure practiced it often enough. 
Hopefully by now you have fully mastered how to cook without calling grandma every ten minutes. And I sure hope you got up some gumption for creativeness, because my Pinterest diy board is filling up fast. 
Do you have a second set of holes in your ears? There is no excuse not to. 
At twenty five, I will disown you if you haven't gone to Winter Jam yet. And you better have saw a NeedtoBreathe concert. 
Are you and the Minions getting on better now?  
Two questions: Did you go to Alaska? And, are you broke?
I kid you not, you better have finished your stories by now. And at least one of them better be published or I'm going to disown you and get a new future self. 
How's the world? Still scary? Press on mi amigo. 
What is it like being a twenty five year old fangirl? Are you teaching my kids to love awesome books and movies? Have you cultivated their musical tastes to perfection? Please tell me some good books have come out during the years. And that all these miserable boy bands and vampire stories have passed by the wayside. 
Do you have a room for your guitars and posters? I hope you have a room for them. I'd be sad if they just sat in storage. 
Hopefully my life is going well for you. I'll catch up with you in a few years.

You rock,

You -5. 

Just a Note to Say

Hello lovelies!

So no, I don't have a hard set topic to yap about at the moment, but I wanted to drop in and let you know that I am capable of writing rhyming posts about princes and princesses that may or may not be based on yours truly and a certain someone. It's just kind of hard to come up with good material when you everything you think of is somehow linked to that one topic. But, I shall endeavor....

 

...Not sure why that makes me laugh so much. But it does. This guy supplies the funniest parts in the movie.

 

Anyway, moving on.

 

I've been feeling an itch lately in the back of my mind to get writing. I've even ventured on to pinterest for things besides wedding dresses and budgeting tips and I've pinned a few things that reminded me of my stories.

BUT,

Every tie I open up one of my latest works, I got nothing.

Zilch.

Zippo.

Nada.

 

So...I've been toying with the idea of starting a whole new story.

I know, I know. As soon as I do that the others will fade into oblivion, and I'll never finish them no matter how many times I promise myself I will. I still love those stories. But I can't write them. I don't know if I can write a new one either, but I'm so tempted to try.

So tempted.

What do you guys think? Not to quote my little movie clip up there, but "Think about it long enough". Do I endeavor to finish, or endeavor to begin?

 

Work is going well. Some new girls have joined the team who are closer to my age and we get along quite smashing. Next month I have to take a test to be certified as a...well its a Paraoptometric, but don't ask me what that is. Basically a piece of paper that says I am certified to do the job I do, I guess. Everyone tells me it's easy, just a lot of vocabulary words...

I'll have you know, I hated vocabulary words in school just about as much as I hated algebra.

 

We've also been on a war movie kick. First we watched Band of Brothers...

Which took a week because it's like a six DVD movie.

Now we have started We Were Soldiers.

Now, I love that movie. I've been begging to watch it for like...years. For real. And my whole family told me we didn't have it. (nonsense!) So I went and bought it. Brought it home and resumed begging to watch it. No one was in the mood. For months on end.

Last night.

Dad says to get it out.

Everyone agrees.

.....

 

What?

 

Hmmm, what else is new and noteworthy, since I'm writing you guys a note?

I've been getting terrible headaches every day, and have a chiropractor appointment next week that will hopefully cure it for me again.

I was offered a partnership by a nine year old to join her in building a company just like Justice, only for big people.

Because what adult wouldn't wanna?

 

Besides that, I learned to run a grain cart this year, and we got harvesting done by ourselves instead of hiring anyone, which was kind of cool.

Worked calves the other day and have a hand full of fiber glass now. It's all good.

Had a completely black bruise on my left knee, but the completely pale right one is the one that hurt like mad. Go figure that one out then let me know, please and thanks.

 

And....My sisters are going out in as this for Halloween.

 

                          Minion 2 ^                                                  Minion 1^

Well, I think that about blasts you guys up to speed on the regular parts of my life. Adios!!

 

 

 

Out of the Ashes

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. and seven.

 

 

Some time flew past, then the princess composed herself at last. She sends a warm thank you out to the ladies who commented on her last post, and set out to move on with the tale.
At times things were still stiff, the pair had a small tiff, but somehow their spirits seemed to lift. Harvest had started, landing our princess in a tractor, but still she made it to the prince each night after. They didn't always talk, he'd just hold her real soft, and the quiet moments helped things to heal.
He ventured back to college, and their lunch time texts soon resumed. He'd call her each night to study Philippians while tucked in all tight, and hope returned that things would be alright.
The earrings he got for her birthday were a favorite at work, and the t-shirts were cute and so cozy.

Our prince and princess decided that though some things were uncertain, and the future looked scary, they'd keep pushing through; it was a load they could carry. They would do what they wanted, devil take the scoffers.
He got her a present, a glass cube with his face, a creepy thing for sure, but utterly cut and silly.  So she started searching for Christmas gift ideas.

And the young gentleman's father was having a wedding of hi own, in the far of land of Arizona. It was a nerve racking affair, so the prince asked her to join him down there, she said yes, though she's afraid of the air. It took some debate and some convincing, but they got the agenda pushed through, so now she had dress shopping to do.

Dark Is the Tale

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. 

This tale just keeps growing, you've taken it well, but now dark things are lurking in this tale I must tell.
To our prince and our princess, all seemed quite swell, all the plans they'd been making fit together real well. Some folks probably suspected, but they were waiting to tell. They thought they had it all planned, it was the perfect fit, but the storm clouds rolled in, when they let their thoughts slip.

Not all took it as well, as the pair hoped they would. Details they'd thought minor began to boil and swell. How could it go wrong? They'd covered all topics. They knew where their train went, those folks could get on or stay off it.

But saying you'll make it, and proving its so, are really quite different. It's a long row to hoe. The princess felt sick, her world caving in. Where she thought she was safe, she found dragons in friend's skin. They tried to work through it, he told her it would be fine, but things didn't seem better with the passing of time.

They attended the fair, and she got him to smile. Deep fried cookie dough soothed her soul for awhile. But the tense nerves were still there, the conversation was stiff. Fear boiled in the pair, to be handled in their own ways. The princess sent prayers, and felt numb through the days.

When the big farm show came they thought they'd have fun, it was nice to walk around, hold hands in the sun. His friends were around, and my how he'd dote. It made the princess happy. Out of the mire her heart would float.

Then it was back off to school for the prince, and work for the princess, the phone calls kept steady and the plans formed back again. Maybe all would be well. The fear kept inside they started to share, and it certainly helped to have it out in the air. The two of them could face it, they'd make it, they'd stand. "I love you," he'd whisper, and reach for her hand.

One night the prince called her, he'd had a long talk. Their plans were getting shoved away farther with every tick of the clock. He didn't know what to do, or know where to turn. Her heart was crushed and terrified, and bitterness wanted there to abide. They tried to talk it through, cling to God and one another. Talk to people they could trust, put on a smile, not a shudder. What should have been aimed at the scoffers became a rift between the two. He was scared, he wanted to hide. And she was scared, she wanted to fight.

He came home from school on break, they hoped things would be fun. But they've been stiff and busy all along, and his week is almost done.

Inside My Mind

Slipping through my fingers

Falling in the cracks

All my plans and promises

I'm scared I can't get back

Fires licking at my hopes

Unhappy, choking schemes

Stealing away all my sleep

Making nightmares out of dreams

Terrors rising in my chest

Trying to keep at bay

Whispers saying they know best

As they steal my love away

Friendships crumble into ash

Betrayed drips from the smiles

Never knowing who to trust

As the journey gains more miles

Hope has fled away from me

Disasters looming nigh

Thoughts scream out in the night

Please don't let these plans die 

A Bit on Princes

It has come to my attention that while you know quite a bit about me, you don't know much at all about the prince in this story. And I don't know about you, but I much preferred Sleeping Beauty to Cinderella, for the main reason that we got to know Prince Phillip, where Charming was mostly a nameless, nearly faceless mystery. And while a bit of mystery is good in a story, so is some backstory.

So, I present to you, a study on Prince Jare. 

Born in Nebraska, he later relocated to Arizona (it took some time to get used to Tuscan calling  her phone) where he lived with his father until the age of fourteen, when he moved back to small town Nebraska to live with his aunt. 

If you would ask the prince, he would say that he never noticed our princess at all except to think she was odd. And he only started liking her in December, and he has no reasons why. 

But if you listen to the prince you will hear that he noticed the first time she wore makeup, never did like her purple shirt, and always watched her in choir but she never looked back.

He has many things in common with the princess' favorite book characters, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad. His is all brooding, broken, injured, and reserved. He is charming, boyishly awkward, confident, and strong. Our prince has Will Herondale's terror of love, Murtagh's relationships, Four's attitude (and fear of heights). He makes hasty decisions like Gale, an has more whit and sarcasm than all of them combined. Just like all of them, he has somehow managed to lay all of the rougher pieces aside and give the sweetest love and affection to an ordinary girl, with all the awkward curiosity of a little boy trying something new. 

Our prince is an eternal contradiction. He says he doesn't like horses, but beams when he says he's never been bucked off. He despises cows, but takes videos of little baby calves named Elmer. He says he doesn't like cowboys, but he always dresses like one. He's bound and determined to live naturally off the land, but he's addicted to the air conditioner and only eats beans from a can. He doesn't like sweets! Just Mountain Dew, ice cream, brownies, cookies, and candy. And he'll never shave again...until he wants Maddie to think he looks dandy. Of course he can cook! Just not when you're there. He likes your hair any style, just don't put it up. He's set and determined to smear her makeup. He says he's not scared, but so often he is.

Semi trucks and straight pipes make him light up. He's a bit of a clean freak, especially in his shop. Everything washed and all put away, one tractor will take the boy all day. He wears old t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. Wrangler jeans, till evening when its shorts and flip flops. He likes to comb his hair backward, and his eyes are blue. He's six foot three, and likes getting letters in the mail. He constantly teases, but insists he's all business. He's a pretty good shot, and will only fish from the bank. 

He insists he's not tired, and in the next breath he's asleep. Don't let him lay down if you have something to do, because he'll never get up and it'll be left just to you. In a tractor he can do pretty much anything, always covered in grease, the guy is never clean. 

He's older than her by five months or so. He likes to sing, but can't hit the notes. And if you ask him he does everything the best. 

He tends to exaggerate, and overreact, but this princess wouldn't change any of that. 

InSAnitY

Is this too much?

Perhaps. 

Mayhaps. 

Quite possibly. 

Highly probable.

But it is also so true.

So very, very true.

Yes dear readers, I'm afraid I've gone quite mad. 

Batty, to be exact. 

It is to be expected I suppose. See, Fridays, the good doctor is not in the office, which means...I'm the only one here. And, the absence of a doctor most generally means the absence of patients as well. There is a bit of work to do, and people do drop by for things off and on, but all in all, there are many long hours of nothing to do. 

Now, I do have a "pipes" screen saver on my computer that is quite enthralling for a time...

It just keeps building...

And I have an awesome swivel chair...It's nice to spin around till I'm sick sometimes...

And of course, there are plenty of gigantor granny glasses laying around this joint to try on. 

It's always entertaining to see crazy people wearing over sized glasses. There's this one chick I keep seeing over by the mirror who looks like she's quite fallen off her rocker. 

......

I think perhaps I should be worried about this...

It's really not so bad. I have things to do in my free time. I can always study for the tests I'm supposed to take to get certified. And of course I can talk to myself. 

Well....We suppose its time for us to say goodbye. We have dinner with our self coming up soon.

..............