I dream a lot about Moses Lake.
Some of the dreams involve me getting stuck over here (currently in the town). Bad weather. Can't get a ride to Seattle. Can't get a ride to the bus stop. My sister Honey and cousin Brett are normally there.
Sometimes I dream that I am living at home for a short period, which always ends up being longer than I had anticipated. In these dreams, I am desperately searching for a place to buy. I am always so relieved when I wake up to discover it was only a dream. Honey and Brett are normally there.
Sometimes I dream that the home I grew up in has been remodeled. Everything is brand new. Often, it is always bigger than it was.
I dream that I am at Frontier. Or walking downtown. I dream that I am at different parts of the city. I suppose it just haunts my subconscious.
Perhaps the dreams are the current reality catching up with me.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Home?
Today I came to Moses Lake for the first time in around thirteen years.
I came to Moses Lake when I was 16 months old and left when I was 18. When I was in college, I came a few times, then the reality of the existence became too much. I came home the summer between my freshman and sophomore year and I was so depressed. At some point in time, I stopped going back. The last time I went back was for my cousin's funeral.
Although I live in Seattle, I tend to not go to the east side, meaning Bellevue, Isaquah, Kirkland, etc. The farther east we drove the more I felt like I was out of body. Ellensburg is the point when you realize you are not in Kansas anymore, so to speak. Then Vantage, which is beautiful, and George and finally Moses Lake. We did not take the exit we would take to go to the house I was raised in. In my mind, I took the exit, made the left turn. Went straight. Made the right turn. Went straight. Made the right turn and ended up on the corner of Texas and Russell.
We went straight to the funeral home then to my other aunt's house. It's the same apartment they lived in when I left home.
As we drove around, I could picture scenes from my life. These are scenes I had long since repressed. The other side of this coin is that I would struggle to remember scenes at other places.
We did go to the house I grew up. Things rushed back. The corner I sat at when I had to escape the madness inside the house. I spent hours in the summer sitting on that corner begging time to speed up so I can become an adult and leave there. There were times when I could picture the lights of Seattle shining through the mountains. I told myself I would never return. I kept that promise.
Everything seems so small. The distance from my house and my elementary schooled seemed so far away when I was little. The streets of my neighborhood seemed so large when I was little. I went to the park I used to play in. Saw the school I used to go to. I walked down the street and remembered the houses I would play in when I was little.
There is a part of me that realizes that for whatever reason, Moses Lake is no longer home. It never really was. It was a placed I grew up, existed in, and hated. The memories are so locked in my head. I can't even remember the good in an effort to escape the bad.
Yeah. There were some good memories. Just having a hard time sorting them out. Memory is alive.
I came to Moses Lake when I was 16 months old and left when I was 18. When I was in college, I came a few times, then the reality of the existence became too much. I came home the summer between my freshman and sophomore year and I was so depressed. At some point in time, I stopped going back. The last time I went back was for my cousin's funeral.
Although I live in Seattle, I tend to not go to the east side, meaning Bellevue, Isaquah, Kirkland, etc. The farther east we drove the more I felt like I was out of body. Ellensburg is the point when you realize you are not in Kansas anymore, so to speak. Then Vantage, which is beautiful, and George and finally Moses Lake. We did not take the exit we would take to go to the house I was raised in. In my mind, I took the exit, made the left turn. Went straight. Made the right turn. Went straight. Made the right turn and ended up on the corner of Texas and Russell.
We went straight to the funeral home then to my other aunt's house. It's the same apartment they lived in when I left home.
As we drove around, I could picture scenes from my life. These are scenes I had long since repressed. The other side of this coin is that I would struggle to remember scenes at other places.
We did go to the house I grew up. Things rushed back. The corner I sat at when I had to escape the madness inside the house. I spent hours in the summer sitting on that corner begging time to speed up so I can become an adult and leave there. There were times when I could picture the lights of Seattle shining through the mountains. I told myself I would never return. I kept that promise.
Everything seems so small. The distance from my house and my elementary schooled seemed so far away when I was little. The streets of my neighborhood seemed so large when I was little. I went to the park I used to play in. Saw the school I used to go to. I walked down the street and remembered the houses I would play in when I was little.
There is a part of me that realizes that for whatever reason, Moses Lake is no longer home. It never really was. It was a placed I grew up, existed in, and hated. The memories are so locked in my head. I can't even remember the good in an effort to escape the bad.
Yeah. There were some good memories. Just having a hard time sorting them out. Memory is alive.
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Lord Giveth the Lord Taketh Away
My aunt that raised me passed away. The details are still sketchy, but it sounds like she may have been gone for a few days before she was discovered.
It did get me thinking about my future and where I want to be in 40 years or on my death bed. If I had to imagine it, I would imagine myself being surrounded by my friends and family that love me.
I was thinking about the things I need to do to ensure that I am sowing community, friendship, love, and family. It takes so much effort to be intentional in friendship and relationship. It takes commitment and dedication.
I was thinking about my mom and my aunt. I have to remind myself that I am me and my destiny isn’t tied to them and my choices will lead me down to a path that is different.
I was thinking that it is so important to have closure with people. It’s almost like you have to make a decision on who is in your community, and then make a conscious effort to tender and care for those relationships. Life is too short to hold on to past hurts, pains, and bitterness. It’s best to just get things out in the open so healing can begin.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking!
It did get me thinking about my future and where I want to be in 40 years or on my death bed. If I had to imagine it, I would imagine myself being surrounded by my friends and family that love me.
I was thinking about the things I need to do to ensure that I am sowing community, friendship, love, and family. It takes so much effort to be intentional in friendship and relationship. It takes commitment and dedication.
I was thinking about my mom and my aunt. I have to remind myself that I am me and my destiny isn’t tied to them and my choices will lead me down to a path that is different.
I was thinking that it is so important to have closure with people. It’s almost like you have to make a decision on who is in your community, and then make a conscious effort to tender and care for those relationships. Life is too short to hold on to past hurts, pains, and bitterness. It’s best to just get things out in the open so healing can begin.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
That Girl
On my way home from New York, I spent a long time selecting a book to read on the flight home. On a side note, I normally do not buy new books. I buy used books unless it’s an author I must support, and they are few and far in between. The only deviation from this practice is when I travel. For some reason, I allow myself to buy a new book to read. Mind you, sometimes I have to search high and low to find a book worthy of me. LOL. On another side note, what I should do is plan ahead and hit up Half Price Books before each trip and save some money.
Anyway, the book I ended up purchasing was about a girl who ended up being solicited to be a party girl at the parties of a prince of Brunei. She is my age, and, as I was reading, I was trying to figure out what I was doing when we were 18, 19, and 20. Before joining the harem (this is her word), she was a stripper and then an escort. She then joins this “court” and is a party girl/lover of the prince.
As I read about the expensive jewelry he gave her and the shopping sprees she went on, I realized I will never be “That Girl”. The book is called “Some Girls”. I’m not the type of woman who would be invited backstage at some concert. I am not the type of woman who would be invited to the VIP section of a club to join some famous athlete or musician.
This is not a slight on her lifestyle choices or me. It’s just an observation. I can’t imagine anyone stopping me on the street and offering the “opportunity” to me. At this point in my life, I know that a man will never whisk me off to some getaway and plow me with diamonds, rubies, pearls, clothes, etc. This is neither good nor bad. It just is what it is.
For me, there are some things that are sacred. They are not to be entered into lightly. Physical intimacy is one of those things. I was once told that sex was “just a thing” and I vehemently disagree with that statement. It is not just a thing and it something that doesn’t have a price because it is priceless. Again, this is to me. People can and do whatever they want. I am not the moral police, but I do wonder how lightly and easily people today take on more and more partners.
They say that everybody has a price. I was talking about the book to one of my bus buddies. I was marveling (and perhaps salivating) as I talked about the many, many gifts that were given to her. My bus buddy listened for awhile before telling me that everything has a price. Yes, she was getting money, gifts, and perks, but they came with a steep price. It’s like being married to a man who can give you everything and anything but is unfaithful to you. Is it worth the price, and is it only part of the game?
I would like to think my price is much higher, but it is easy for me to say what I wouldn’t do without having been offered the carrot.
I feel like I am not adequately saying what I am trying to get across, but the thoughts are bouncing in my head.
Anyway, the book I ended up purchasing was about a girl who ended up being solicited to be a party girl at the parties of a prince of Brunei. She is my age, and, as I was reading, I was trying to figure out what I was doing when we were 18, 19, and 20. Before joining the harem (this is her word), she was a stripper and then an escort. She then joins this “court” and is a party girl/lover of the prince.
As I read about the expensive jewelry he gave her and the shopping sprees she went on, I realized I will never be “That Girl”. The book is called “Some Girls”. I’m not the type of woman who would be invited backstage at some concert. I am not the type of woman who would be invited to the VIP section of a club to join some famous athlete or musician.
This is not a slight on her lifestyle choices or me. It’s just an observation. I can’t imagine anyone stopping me on the street and offering the “opportunity” to me. At this point in my life, I know that a man will never whisk me off to some getaway and plow me with diamonds, rubies, pearls, clothes, etc. This is neither good nor bad. It just is what it is.
For me, there are some things that are sacred. They are not to be entered into lightly. Physical intimacy is one of those things. I was once told that sex was “just a thing” and I vehemently disagree with that statement. It is not just a thing and it something that doesn’t have a price because it is priceless. Again, this is to me. People can and do whatever they want. I am not the moral police, but I do wonder how lightly and easily people today take on more and more partners.
They say that everybody has a price. I was talking about the book to one of my bus buddies. I was marveling (and perhaps salivating) as I talked about the many, many gifts that were given to her. My bus buddy listened for awhile before telling me that everything has a price. Yes, she was getting money, gifts, and perks, but they came with a steep price. It’s like being married to a man who can give you everything and anything but is unfaithful to you. Is it worth the price, and is it only part of the game?
I would like to think my price is much higher, but it is easy for me to say what I wouldn’t do without having been offered the carrot.
I feel like I am not adequately saying what I am trying to get across, but the thoughts are bouncing in my head.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Random Musings
I had the strangest thought this Mother’s Day. I don’t remember every spending a Mother’s Day with my mom. I was 16 months old when my mom sent us away, so I know that I spent at least one with her. I don’t have memory of any other Mother’s Day I may have spent with her.
I also don’t remember spending any birthdays with her, but there were at least two. There was the birthday before we were sent away. I also have a picture of another birthday when I was little. I am sitting on her lap and smiling and my sisters are smiling standing next to her. There is a cake that says Happy Birthday, Mom. I was just too young to remember.
It did make me think that I should make a conscious effort to spend a birthday and Mother’s Day with her so I can have it in my memory bank.
I remember being very happy when I finally got a picture of me, my mom, and my dad together. I was 30+. Better late than never
I also don’t remember spending any birthdays with her, but there were at least two. There was the birthday before we were sent away. I also have a picture of another birthday when I was little. I am sitting on her lap and smiling and my sisters are smiling standing next to her. There is a cake that says Happy Birthday, Mom. I was just too young to remember.
It did make me think that I should make a conscious effort to spend a birthday and Mother’s Day with her so I can have it in my memory bank.
I remember being very happy when I finally got a picture of me, my mom, and my dad together. I was 30+. Better late than never
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Harlems Song Revisited
My imagination has always been extremely overactive. I have a rich inner life. This imagination is very useful as I plot out my book. If I had one complaint, it would be that early in the morning, the book becomes part of my dreams and I feel like I am actually experiencing what the lead character is experiencing.
In some ways, I want to hold the plot close to me like a secret recipe or security code. In other ways, I want to shout the plot off the roof tops. I suppose if I did jot it down, it would make it more real and tangible to me.
Basically, the lead character is a woman named Harlem. I picked the name because she is going through a rebirth or renaissance if you will. She’s at a crossroads in her life. It’s a name I have always used.
The male lead has always been a character named Damian. As I was writing about them, another male character entered quite on his own. I wanted to name him Gregory, which is actually the name of a person I know. But then, the name Gabriel kept slipping out.
Well, to back up, I did not want to write about a relationship. The theme is played. I wasn’t quite sure if I even wanted to write a fiction novel. However, I am learning it’s not always what I want. In fact, the book just began pouring out of me two weeks ago.
I was musing with God on my plans vs. His plans, when it me. Damian as an agent of Satan, and Gabriel as an agent of God. So in these men you see the struggle Harlem actually has with her relationship with God. It’s quite evidence in the way the two men treat Harlem. One, with unconditional love and acceptance. The other with borderline abuse. And of course, Damian is the one Harlem is most drawn to despite the fact that he has her on a very unhealthy, emotional rollercoaster! Stay tuned!
I think it will actually be a short story. Like I said in the previous post, I want to publish an anthology of short stories from members of my church.
In some ways, I want to hold the plot close to me like a secret recipe or security code. In other ways, I want to shout the plot off the roof tops. I suppose if I did jot it down, it would make it more real and tangible to me.
Basically, the lead character is a woman named Harlem. I picked the name because she is going through a rebirth or renaissance if you will. She’s at a crossroads in her life. It’s a name I have always used.
The male lead has always been a character named Damian. As I was writing about them, another male character entered quite on his own. I wanted to name him Gregory, which is actually the name of a person I know. But then, the name Gabriel kept slipping out.
Well, to back up, I did not want to write about a relationship. The theme is played. I wasn’t quite sure if I even wanted to write a fiction novel. However, I am learning it’s not always what I want. In fact, the book just began pouring out of me two weeks ago.
I was musing with God on my plans vs. His plans, when it me. Damian as an agent of Satan, and Gabriel as an agent of God. So in these men you see the struggle Harlem actually has with her relationship with God. It’s quite evidence in the way the two men treat Harlem. One, with unconditional love and acceptance. The other with borderline abuse. And of course, Damian is the one Harlem is most drawn to despite the fact that he has her on a very unhealthy, emotional rollercoaster! Stay tuned!
I think it will actually be a short story. Like I said in the previous post, I want to publish an anthology of short stories from members of my church.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
It's All Coming Together
Yes, it has been a while. I did not make my weekly quota in April.
I have been writing a book idea in a journal. I will say more I as I began typing out that thoughts, but so far. I like it a lot. I will be sitting here and all these great ideas just pour out!
My goal is to start a writing group at my church. I would like us to meet once a month and share our progress. Eventually, I would like us to self-publish an anthology of short stories. I would also like for us to publish an anthology of poetry. We have so many writers at my church, and I believe we are all together for a reason!
I have some short trips coming up. I’ll be in a wedding in L.A. followed by a business trip to NYC.
I need to start planning my vacation. I don’t feel like planning this year so I am searching for a tour. I did find a tour that sounded interest that was Greece, Egypt and Israel. I would like to add in Turkey but it depends on time and money.
I’m still plotting to win the mega millions. LOL.
I have been writing a book idea in a journal. I will say more I as I began typing out that thoughts, but so far. I like it a lot. I will be sitting here and all these great ideas just pour out!
My goal is to start a writing group at my church. I would like us to meet once a month and share our progress. Eventually, I would like us to self-publish an anthology of short stories. I would also like for us to publish an anthology of poetry. We have so many writers at my church, and I believe we are all together for a reason!
I have some short trips coming up. I’ll be in a wedding in L.A. followed by a business trip to NYC.
I need to start planning my vacation. I don’t feel like planning this year so I am searching for a tour. I did find a tour that sounded interest that was Greece, Egypt and Israel. I would like to add in Turkey but it depends on time and money.
I’m still plotting to win the mega millions. LOL.
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