Open waters

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Are you scared of being in open water?

In a word, terrified. 

I learned how to swim at an early age. (Physically swim, that is, since many of my 'swim' posts have been a metaphorical swim.) I swam in the pool and we went to the beach open enough that I wasn't scared of the ocean. My grandparents own a lake house in Wisconsin, and I spent many summers swimming and tubing/boating on a lake where I couldn't see the bottom. As I got older and attended Girl Scout camps, I learned more advanced swimming strokes and techniques, like treading water. To pass a swim test one year, we had to tread water for three minutes without our heads going under while singing camp songs.

So to say the least, I have a very good grasp on how to keep my head above water. 

Gone swimmin'

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Where would you love to go swimming?

For me, reading a good book is much like delving into a swimming pool in the heat of summer. You take a deep breath and within five pages, you're completely submerged in the story. If I'm particularly drawn to a book, I only surface when forced - when my lunch break ends, when my eyes won't stay open anymore, when there's another obligation. There is nothing quite as satisfying as living in someone else's world for a few days.

Swim.

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Oh, little blog. How I have neglected you. Partly out of lack of time. Mostly out of fear of repercussions should anyone come across this, decide my writing a blog is grounds to fire me and...fire me. Well, been there done that and I've decided if that's the worst that could happen, bring it.

Besides, what good is a writer who does write at least a little every day - even if it is only a lame blog post about nothing that two of her friends skim? I wrote two articles for my fall issue of the magazine - the medical one which I enjoyed much more than I should have - and I realized I need to make it a point to write more. So starting tomorrow, I'm going to seriously undertake the NaBloPoMo challenge and attempt to write in this blog every day.

Mostly because the July theme caught my attention: swim. Esp. after Jack's Mannequin's song by the same name hit me like a ton of bricks today...which is one of the many reasons I love music. Sometimes you need that one song to jolt you back awake and make you realize you're completely missing your life.

Well, I've never been to heaven...

Tell us the story of a piece of jewelry you own. Where did it come from, and what does it mean to you?

I'm a Texan, born and bred. Growing up in the only state that was once its own country and is the largest state in the continental US has certain...effects on a person.

Yes, that infamous Texas ego. I might have been raised by two Yanks, but I'm proud to be a Texan and can't imagine being raised in another state. I like my Shiner ice cold, my freeways 12 lanes wide (so I don't die) and  enjoy keeping Austin weird when I visit.

Then I got this crazy idea to move to Oklahoma for school. I walked in with my Texas pride and those Okies humbled me. I kind of fell in love with their state and while I rolled my eyes a lot and thought they made big deals out of nothing, making the decision to come back to the TX was not an easy one.

Luckily, I get to carry a little piece of Oklahoma with my every day. On my last birthday in Tulsa, Katie gave me an Oklahoma charm from James Avery. She had an identical one I'd been eying for...forever. It went on immediately, and I wore it proudly my last two months in the state. She told me when she bought it she was torn: she wanted to get me the Texas one as well but thought Oklahoma was more deserving given the circumstances.

I agreed.

And then I put the Texas charm on my Christmas wish list and made sure to drop plenty of hints. Santa Claus listened, and on Christmas morning I got what I consider to be my matching charm.

I wear the charms on a necklace often - mostly when I'm out at a show because I feel like in some way it identifies me - and when I do, I feel like I'm carrying a little piece of myself on a chain around my neck. Having this tiny sterling silver Oklahoma makes me feel like I didn't lose it completely, but the Texas reminds me who I am first and foremost.

Both remind me of who I've been, who I became and who I am now. I like having that tangible reminder.

A blog about...blogging.

I started blogging on OpenDiary.com when I was a junior in high school. Up to this point, I kept journals on and off, and I was in the midst of learning journalistic style so free-form writing online was a new, exciting concept for me. (Obviously still is.) 

The thing I most enjoyed was discovered new people who led lives so very different from my own. I looked forward to reading about their latest life details, no matter how boring. When I first started blogging, I read a girl who was a sophomore in college and wrote about her obsession with soap operas. Later, I followed a girl heavily into the London goth scene. There was the girl who I swore was living out novels by my favorite author and then the girl who wrote poetic posts and poems and took beautiful photos to illustrate how not-boring Ohio could be.


And I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing, but some of these people I've read I remember better than people who have passed through my life.

It was on OpenDiary that I met two girls who changed my life with their love of fiction: Ivy and Violet, better known as Melanie and Avery. They both introduced me to who would quickly become one of my favorite authors, Miss Francesca Lia Block. To them I am Allie and Claire, respectively. Our nicknames all come from characters in FLB books each pair best identifies with.

I may have also become friends with these two girls because at that point in time, we all had a favorite band in common as well...

Through the years, I have kept up with these girls in their various blogging adventures. We've moved from site to site (OpenDiary to Xanga, to LiveJournal to all three being on separate sites now...) as we've shared our lives through the written word. Melanie and I met in person and enjoyed living out our Lady Ivory/Alabaster Duchess roles at a music and arts festival in Tulsa in May 2005. We've also shared lots of fiction we've written with each other, namely during November's NaNoWriMo. (National Novel Writing Month.)


I've participated but never completed the 50,000 words in 30 days challenge. Melanie is participating this year...and has been trying to guilt me into participating as well. And its worked. Kind of.

In her most recent blog post, she mentioned giving NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posing Month, which is every month - a try instead of NaNoWriMo. And without the daunting word count, I think that's something I can handle.

So consider this me throwing my hat in the ring. Prompt by prompt, I will work my way through November and hopefully along the way, I'll entertain you with my love of the written word.