A Post A Day For A Whole Year???

Well, that's the goal. One goal among many others. Many insignificant, a few more substantial.

Call it some kind of wonky public diary.

Swim in my stream of consciousness if you dare.

I can't promise every day will be golden, but I'll try to make each one interesting. (Key words: I'll try.)

So, if you don't think I can do it, check back each day to see if I do.

If you get anything out of it, great.

If not, and no one ever reads it, at the very least it's a good writing exercise for me.

Either way, I'm gonna give it my best shot. Here goes nothing...

Back (But Not Necessarily) By Popular Demand

So, it's been awhile since I've written anything here, and guess what? The world didn't end. It didn't even pause.

There really hasn't been a whole lot to write about in the month-plus interim. Let me see if I can summarize it quickly.

A couple of weeks ago, decked out in full Wild West attire, I robbed a bank and tied up the slow-witted sheriff and his dopey deputy in the middle of Main Street. Later, I came to my senses and returned the stolen money and turned myself in. It was definitely a learning experience.

OK, what else? I finally narrowed down the list of potential skit scripts for our fall drama to five and submitted those to the pastors, but they've been swamped with other stuff and haven't gotten a chance to look through and/or decide on those yet.

Let's see, there was something else, right? Oh yeah, I floated in a lake in Virginia and didn't drown, but also didn't swim, because I'm not too good at that. On that same trip, our boat almost sank in the middle of the lake before it came to its senses and decided that it would rather float too than sink, for which I was much appreciative.

What else? I finished reading a few books I'd been working on for awhile. A couple of play script books, a few teen fiction titles, and a gruesome true crime book which was rather enjoyable.

Um, let's see...I finished writing apparel copy for both the Fall Master Catalog and the Apparel Specialty Catalog at work. Neither of those was much fun, as I had considerably more work to do in less time than was realistically possible. But with a lot of help from my co-workers and several liters of Mt. Dew, Dr. Pepper, and mediocre coffee, all the deadlines were met and I'm officially breathing a bit easier.

What else? Oh yeah, I was struck by lightning and now I'm able to see the future. But I can only see fifteen minutes into the future, which doesn't really come in handy at all. Wait...maybe that wasn't me. No, that was definitely some TV show or movie or something. I wasn't struck by lightning at all.

Anything else? Hmm, I can't think of anything. Well, this was a pretty boring post. What a complete waste of your time! I'm sorry about that. Next time, I'll try to have something interesting to say.

Carry on.

Too Much To Think

So...I haven't blogged in a little while. A week, to be precise. For good reason, I suppose, since I've been writing like mad at my job of late (a good thing, too, since that's what they pay me to do). But just because I haven't written anything here in awhile doesn't mean I haven't been thinking. I've been thinking a lot. So much, in fact, that my head's one big jumble of thoughts. They say (whomever "they" are) that sometimes it helps to get it all out on paper, sort of dump your brain of its contents, so to speak. Well, if I got it all out on actual, physical pieces of paper, you'd probably never see it – assuming you're even interested. And since one of the main points of this blog is for me to express myself as openly as possible so you can get to know me better, I might as well use it to get all these thoughts out of my head. Maybe you can help me sort them out, who knows?

As I said in my last post ("Blue Monday"), we recently wrapped up this year's Easter production at church. Three long months of planning, preparing, and practicing (nice three-point outline with alliteration there, Jason – your pastor would be proud!), and (insert bonus alliteration here) the production is past us. The down feeling that defines Blue Monday always quickly transitions into the excitement of: "What are we going to do next?" I tell myself, give it a few weeks, take a break, enjoy the time off, but to no avail. Within 48 hours of Closing Night, I am already thinking about and planning for the next production. I fight the urge to go out and look for new plays or skits, always thinking about "next time." But drama is not my entire life, at least it shouldn't be. So I fight it as hard as I can. But in the back of my mind, it still lurks...

In previous posts on this blog, I've alluded to certain aspirations and thoughts that I've been having (see here and here). And while I haven't actually done a great deal to make these aspirations and thoughts come to fruition, I haven't given up on them, and I have been thinking about them a lot.

One of the things that I've been thinking about and/or aspiring to for some time now is to actively do something productive in regards to my music. As I've mentioned before, I have penned quite a few original songs over the past several years. And while the majority of those should not – and will never – see the light of day, there are a handful of them that I think may have some degree of potential. Recently, I've been reassessing the old songs as well as brainstorming ideas for new ones, should I decide to embark upon this exciting but scary venture.

Herein lies the conflict:  Do I want to share these songs with others because I honestly believe they are worth sharing, and because they might speak to people in ways that truly matter? Or do I want to share them to promote myself, as merely a public avenue for my own self-indulgence and self-gratification? If it's for the latter, I'd rather not even bother with it. I don't want recognition, fame, or glory. (Not that I could or would ever attain any of these, I'm just examining my motives.) If I'm aspiring to do this because it's God's will, and because I want to make His name famous, then by all means I should do it. But I'm just not sure yet.

I have other things floating around in my head right now, too, but I'll save those for another day. Or maybe later today. Maybe not. I think I've thunk enough for one day already.

I'd be interested to hear your thoughts or opinions, if you care to share them. If not, that's okay, too. Anyway, thanks for stopping by and reading mine.

When I Grow Up...

I recently celebrated my 33rd birthday, which is hard for me to fathom. I remember when I thought turning 25 was getting old! So, as is customary for me upon turning another year older, I ask myself: What do I want to be when I grow up?

I know what you're thinking: I already am grown up. Maybe that's true, or maybe being "grown up" is subjective. But that's only half the question. The other part of the question is what I want to be.

When I was a little kid, and someone asked me the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?", I would have likely given one of two responses:

1)  I want to be an astronaut. Okay, that's a pat answer, and a tad boring, but I grew up in the '80s when NASA and shuttle launches were all the rage. I was 8 years old when the Challenger crashed, and that was really the beginning of it all for me. I wanted to succeed those astronauts who had tragically lost their lives and complete their mission. At the time, I probably could have even told you what their mission was, in great detail, though all of the particulars are lost to me now. However, my astronautical ambitions slowly faded over time, and it's probably a good thing, since by now, my chances of going on future shuttle missions would be greatly reduced.

2)  I want to be Steven Spielberg.  Well, I didn't actually want to be Steven Spielberg, but I did want to do what he did. I wanted to be a filmmaker. One of the first films I remember seeing in the movie theater was E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial. I was thoroughly and overwhelmingly impressed. And that was what I wanted to do. I thought for awhile I might even go to film school after graduating from high school. But that, like many childhood dreams, took a backseat to other aspirations.

Because there was this other thing that happened around age 9 or 10. I started writing. A lot. Make that, all the time. And, as it turned out, I wasn't half bad at it.

I had my first poem published in The Daily Reflector when I was 10 years old. If I can ever dig that thing up, I might post it here. It was pretty awful, but I was just getting started, so the roughness around the edges is understandable.

A year later, I started writing my first songs. My cousin Michael and I used to come up with these little ditties that we would sing in front of our family at special gatherings. I wish there were videos of these, because they'd probably be pretty hilarious now. But at the time they seemed pretty good to us; and in retrospect, I've likely heard worse stuff on the radio (especially the stuff on the radio these days).

Over the past 20-plus years (and calculating that time period is mind-boggling to me as well), I've continued writing for my own entertainment and for friends and family. I've penned over 200 original songs – most of them awful "unrequited love" songs during my high school days – probably an equal number of poems, and a dozen or so short stories. I even wrote a couple of one-act plays for college classes.

I got my B.A. degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing at ECU back in 2000. Then I worked for about 8 years at jobs that had nothing whatsoever to do with Creative Writing. Such is life. Then I was offered a job as a copywriter/copy editor for Gander Mountain's catalog and website. A few years ago, I couldn't have told you what a copywriter did if my life depended on it. I've since come to realize that I can easily explain my job to any Seinfeld aficionado by saying, "What Elaine did at J. Peterman – that's basically it." I like my job – it allows me to flex my creative muscles on a daily basis, though there is a good amount of "just the facts, ma'am" involved as well.

So, I guess it boils down to one more (albeit multi-part) question: Is what I do who I am, and is what I am what I want to be?

Here's what I think. I don't think that my life – or anyone's life, for that matter – can be defined solely by what I do. Nor will I resign myself – at least not yet – to the fact that what I currently am is what I want to be.

What do I want to be? The picture's becoming a little clearer of late. But the veil of uncertainty hasn't been completely lifted yet, so I'm still reticent to say. But I am working on it. Moving forward little by little. And maybe I'm growing up a little in the process.

Poems For Your Perusal #2: "I Give You Part"

This is another old poem I pulled out of my "vault"... I hope it speaks to you as it did to me upon rereading it.


"I GIVE YOU PART"

Lord, remove from me my ears
For I no longer wish to hear
The lies and gossip that they speak
Upon each hearing, I grow weak
And would, without Your guidance, take
Their lies as truth – a great mistake
And You reply, "Give me your heart"
And in response, I give You part.

Lord, remove my eyes from me
For I no longer wish to see
Images burned into my mind
Better off if I were blind
I would, without Your shielding hand
Be tempted to betray Your plan
You nod and say, "Give me your heart"
And once again, I give You part.

Lord, remove from me my lips
For often have I let things slip
A harsh or unkind word to them
That know You not – and in my sin
I fail to see, I'm failing You
When I say things that I don't do
You sigh and say, "Give me your heart"
And yet again, I give You part.

But something in this isn't right
I battle, yet I lose the fight
Could it be that I'm naive
Enough to think that I believe
That Your sufficiency of grace
Will put things in the proper place
And I won't have to give my heart
That You'll accept me, part by part?

Lord, I surrender – take my life
And make of it a sacrifice
That You and You alone shine through
Be glorified in all I do!
Without subtracting all of me
The whole of You is tragically
Subdued – and so for this my part
Lord Jesus, here – take ALL my heart!

To Know Me Is To Read Me

Real Talk:  it took a lot of self-convincing for me to decide to start writing a blog. It wasn't that I thought I would quickly run out of interesting and/or relevant things to say – so far, so good. And it wasn't because I don't enjoy writing or that I don't express myself very well through writing; on the contrary, I love writing and it has always come fairly easily to me. The problem was and is entirely with me.

I've always been a pretty private person, not really letting many people in on what's going on inside my head. It's not that I lack emotions or opinions; I just don't express them very well in ways that you can see and hear.

As a result, I think I am somewhat of an enigma (at best) or an eccentric (at worst) to people who know me. There is a degree of vulnerability which comes with opening myself up to other people with which I've never been entirely comfortable. I don't know why that is the case, but it is.

So, in an effort to break this 32-year pattern, I decided to make it a point – on a regular basis – to express my thoughts, feelings, and opinions in the best way I know how – by writing about them. Thus, "The Plural Of Hyena" blog was born.

I recognize that not everything I say will resonate with everyone and that some of my opinions or ideas may be frowned upon. Who knows, maybe some people will choose to disassociate with me altogether, but I hope not.

So here I am. Taking a leap of faith and letting you get to know me better. Not that your life or mine will necessarily be affected one bit in the process – it simply is what it is. And so am I.

An Inkling Of An Idea

Something's cooking in my brain - and no, it's not the kind of things recently or presently cooking in Charlie Sheen's brain - that dude's completely wack!

I don't know if or when it will come to fruition. But if it does, it could be pretty exciting, and a little scary.

The thing is, I don't want to do anything for self-gratification or self-promotion, so I have to be careful to check my motives.

I know all this is vague, and that's by design, but I don't want to elaborate just yet, in case nothing comes of it.

So all I can say is, I guess, stay tuned.

(OK, I promise my next entry will be of more substance, or at least more entertaining. That's all for now.)

Poems For Your Perusal – #1: "Not My Best Foot"

"Not My Best Foot"

This is not my best foot

But forward it must go

This is not my finest hour

But it will have to do.

I must be self-conscious

Aware of what I lack

The will to take what I can get

And give so little back.

This is not my legacy

For that will have to wait

This is simply honesty

But far too far from fate.

What I have to offer

Is rarely ribbon-worthy

I simply must express

Emote, release, if only for me.

I do not seek your honor

I do not want your prize

Though this is not my best foot,

I will not apologize.