How am I? Muy bien!
Hola! Que tal? Esta muy bien! - There you have it. My extent of the Spanish language. Sad, eh? I recently had to dredge up what little I remembered from my high school Spanish class when I traveled to the Dominican Republic last week. I just got back this past Sunday; 7 days of sun, blistering heat, and turquoise seas. Well, the Atlantic Ocean actually, but it was still crystal clear. For those not entirely sure where the Dominican is, it's east of Cuba and west of Puerto Rico. It is one of only two islands in the Caribbean that have two countries established on the same soil. The other half of the island is Haiti (I can't remember what the other two countries are). Just a little nugget I learned while I was there. Otherwise my time was occupied with my brother-in-law's wedding, getting a wicked sunburn (no matter how much lotion I applied - curse my freakishly pale skin!) and compromising my ability to make smart and well thought out decisions with unhealthy amounts of rum-based drinks. All-inclusive resorts are a mixed blessing.
But all in all I had a wonderful time. The first day or so was sort of surreal; it was my first time off of the North American continent. I couldn't believe I was actually there. It didn't take long for it to sink in though; you don't see many women sunbathing topless on North American beaches. After a few days you don't really notice anymore. The only thought that ran through my mind was what a brutal place to get a sunburn! Ouch!
Now I'm back to reality and, needless to say, it's a bummer. It probably wouldn't be so bad, but I came home to a house thrown into complete chaos. My husband, son, and I are moving and have a scant 3 weeks left to pack up the remainder of our household and paint the entire place white for the next residents. Surprisingly, I haven't had a full-out meltdown. Maybe the relaxed island atmosphere I experienced down south hasn't worn off yet. However, add Thanksgiving and the usual holiday insanity that precedes Christmas to the mix and I'm sure it's just a matter of time. I'm a ticking bomb waiting for detonation. Heaven help those who are within the blast radius!
Predictably my innate talent for procrastinating has kicked in as well as the return of my muse. I spent a good portion of yesterday re-reading the stories I have begun and all the outlines of stories patiently waiting to be started. For the first time in a long time I didn't cringe or automatically dissect and discredit what I had written. Now it's just a matter of making time to work on them even if I'm only able to churn out a few sentences at first; something is better than nothing, right? It's been so long since I've written anything, even something as rough as an outline, that I'm finding the need to psych myself up just to type out a word or two. Irrational fears can be so inconvenient.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll have something done by Christmas; 3rd chapter of "Last Child", part two of "Tension", or perhaps the beginning of something new entirely. You never know.
But all in all I had a wonderful time. The first day or so was sort of surreal; it was my first time off of the North American continent. I couldn't believe I was actually there. It didn't take long for it to sink in though; you don't see many women sunbathing topless on North American beaches. After a few days you don't really notice anymore. The only thought that ran through my mind was what a brutal place to get a sunburn! Ouch!
Now I'm back to reality and, needless to say, it's a bummer. It probably wouldn't be so bad, but I came home to a house thrown into complete chaos. My husband, son, and I are moving and have a scant 3 weeks left to pack up the remainder of our household and paint the entire place white for the next residents. Surprisingly, I haven't had a full-out meltdown. Maybe the relaxed island atmosphere I experienced down south hasn't worn off yet. However, add Thanksgiving and the usual holiday insanity that precedes Christmas to the mix and I'm sure it's just a matter of time. I'm a ticking bomb waiting for detonation. Heaven help those who are within the blast radius!
Predictably my innate talent for procrastinating has kicked in as well as the return of my muse. I spent a good portion of yesterday re-reading the stories I have begun and all the outlines of stories patiently waiting to be started. For the first time in a long time I didn't cringe or automatically dissect and discredit what I had written. Now it's just a matter of making time to work on them even if I'm only able to churn out a few sentences at first; something is better than nothing, right? It's been so long since I've written anything, even something as rough as an outline, that I'm finding the need to psych myself up just to type out a word or two. Irrational fears can be so inconvenient.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll have something done by Christmas; 3rd chapter of "Last Child", part two of "Tension", or perhaps the beginning of something new entirely. You never know.