� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
Perhaps I am pulling a Poor Me act and wallowing in this pity party, but ya know what? Right now I could care less if people disapprove of me behaving this way. Lil things have just added up and up, until it's almost too much. I'll muddle through and eventually my personal sun will peek out through the heavy, grayish cloud bank hiding it, but until then my personal forecast is overcast with intermittent showers.
My family is loving and there are good times; I don't mean to give the impression, when I vent, that they aren't. It's just there are times when I take certain things they do and say a negative way like yesterday. And I feel not necessarily neglected, but secondary to the other kids.
Example: Mom bought Aubree a white belt while she was in Price. In fact, she caves in to Aubree occasionally when they are "just returning or exchanging an item" at clothing stores and buys her this shirt or that pair of shoes or pants. Does she think and treat me as often when she's on shopping excursions? No.
Example: The 'rents bought Aubree and Jon their own copies of Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix yesterday on their excursion to I.F. Did they even think I would be interested? Never mind the fact I'm going to buy it in paperback for my collection, as that is the version of all four books in that series I have already. It's the thought that counts.
Nan wants me to call her this week because she wants to know what's wrong, so when I have a free moment I'll call her. Perhaps then I can climb out of this funk. I've also got a nagging headache that isn't helping my mood any.
You'll be happy to note, no more ghostly encounters of the opaque kind. And no disembodied voices or invisible guests. Though, with each subsequent..."experience"...the more seriously I am considering in making them into a novel.
At lunch, the family discussion centered around the royalties J.K. Rowling gets from her phenomenal creation. There are the ones she gets from the books, the ones she's getting from the movie adaptions, not to mention the backpacks, journals and other Harry Potter paraphenalia going along in this mania.
"That's what you need to do," Dad said, looking at me. "With that imagination you could write a book."
"And you could get rich off the royalties," Mom put in.
"And you could buy us things," Aubree added. "Like a volkswagon convertible for me!" She dramatically gestured to herself.
"I'm not going to do that," I said, frowning.
"Why not??" Mom frowned.
"Yes, you can. The only person stopping you is you." Dad admonished.
"I didn't mean about that." I responded, then gestured in Aubree's direction. "I'm not gonna buy her a...a volkswagon bug, or whatever."
"Oh."
I can write a book if I wanted to, with the proper discipline, inspiration and ink. I just haven't been inspired lately or been bitten by the creative bug. There is my Unicorn novel, yes, that has a good beginning plot to it, but once again I lack the inspiration and creativity to make it come alive on the pages. I think I need to get back in the habit of being a voracious bookworm so I can feel more comfortable creating characters that are true to themselves and their setting. Then there is my ghost story percolating in the deep recesses of my mind.
*sigh* Things To Do Tomorrow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Start putting my new layout together that Milky helped me with. (Thank you.) Take up my sewing again; set a goal each day to go so far. Pay phone bill.
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moon phase |
