My Dear Reader,
Due to certain circumstances (such as my novel being drastically behind schedule, among other things), Plain Vanilla will return next Tuseday, when I expect things to be back in order.
I'm at 32,000 words,
-Cecily Jane
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Answered Prayers
My Dear Reader,
So one day I went to check the mail and I found a curious package for HermanaMayor, curious because it had been sent by the local grocery store, and what could a grocery store possibly be sending my sister? We opened the package to find nothing other than Mr. Spock in the plush. This required nothing less than a one-of-a-kind original Cecily Happy Dance, which I dutifully performed on the spot. It was the best thing since Girl Scout cookie ice cream.
Now, I guess you could say that since my key chain happened to have a grocery store club card attached to it, and since the store has a policy that they will track down the owner any key chain with its card on it (and pay for postage), it's possible that God had nothing to do with it at all. Well, He did, and I know it. He cares about the small things, too, and it was definitely nothing short of a miracle. And if it was a person who found my keys, read the card and found the policy, and dropped it into a mail box, is that any different? The lessons that teach us that kind of behavior come from the Bible, so I suppose it's just the same. Either way, it's a miracle.
I guess I just like the fact that things that are important to us are important to God, even though they may not be important to history or even the future. He is our Heavenly Father, after all.
Regards, best wishes, and hope,
-Cecily Jane
On a summer's morning not too long ago, I was about to walk to work when I realized that it was raining. Rain's unusual for Utah, and real rain, the kind that we get back in Sacramento, is fairly scarce, so it was a bit surprising. So I grabbed my rain coat, a large blue Nike jacket that Madre and I bought when I was thirteen hoping that I would grow into it, though considering the fact that it was a men's large, I'm not exactly sure how big we thought I was going to get. Still, it's the best thing that I have to combat such weather, since the excess fabric hangs down to the mid-thigh area, so it keeps me pretty dry. It just so happened that it was just after school had ended and one of my teachers had finished grading my final paper for her class, so I planned on getting my paper on the way there, since I generally cut through campus anyway. I opened the door, slid my keys and phone into the over-sized pockets (I hate carrying purses if I can avoid it) and went on my way.
Now, Gentle Reader, I'm sure that at one point in your life you have had a friend or acquaintance who will tend to call you at the most random of times and say the strangest of things. Well, this morning mine called me and asked me over to breakfast. It was 8:30 in the morning and I was on my way to work, so I declined. He was planning on going away for a couple of weeks, so he offered to pick me up so we could say goodbye. Little id he know that he was fulfilling one of my walking-to-work fantasies. Anyway, when I got out of the car, paper in hand, I realized that my keys were missing, and that was a problem. Apparently they had fallen out of the big pockets sometime during my walk, or possibly in the car. There was no way to be sure, and there was no time to retrace my steps, so I went into work and hoped for the best.
Now, you may think that losing a key chain is a simple matter, but they weren't just any keys, for they were on my absolute favorite key chain that I got in the Star Trek Experience in Las Vegas. It's essentially a little plush Spock (I'm a geek, I know). Anyway, I really wanted it back, and it seemed that there was no way to do so short of going back to Las Vegas in person. So I did what any good little girl would do in this sort of situation. I prayed about it.
I know God well enough to understand that He has a perfect sense of humor, which can be completely wasted when you forget that you're speaking to an actual being. So when I pray, God and I kind of have this agreement that I can shake things up a bit when the occasion permits, since praying, after all, shouldn't be a completely boring experience. So I can be fairly unorthodox at times, but as long as I stay sincere and respectful I don't cross the line. So when I was deeply concerned about the absence of my favorite key chain, I decided to be humorously frank about the matter. I asked Him if there was some kind of a miracles account that we believers could access, and if so, if I could perhaps redeem an unused miracle in order to get my keys back. The request should not worry you, Gentle Reader, because God knows that I like to ask stupid questions. Father, I prayed, I realize that this isn't a life or death matter, and I also realize that this is just a matter of personal comfort, but could I just have this small miracle, just this once? Then I assured Him that He didn't need to feel obligated and that I'd understand if my request was denied, but I had to ask, you know? It couldn't hurt.So one day I went to check the mail and I found a curious package for HermanaMayor, curious because it had been sent by the local grocery store, and what could a grocery store possibly be sending my sister? We opened the package to find nothing other than Mr. Spock in the plush. This required nothing less than a one-of-a-kind original Cecily Happy Dance, which I dutifully performed on the spot. It was the best thing since Girl Scout cookie ice cream.
Now, I guess you could say that since my key chain happened to have a grocery store club card attached to it, and since the store has a policy that they will track down the owner any key chain with its card on it (and pay for postage), it's possible that God had nothing to do with it at all. Well, He did, and I know it. He cares about the small things, too, and it was definitely nothing short of a miracle. And if it was a person who found my keys, read the card and found the policy, and dropped it into a mail box, is that any different? The lessons that teach us that kind of behavior come from the Bible, so I suppose it's just the same. Either way, it's a miracle.
I guess I just like the fact that things that are important to us are important to God, even though they may not be important to history or even the future. He is our Heavenly Father, after all.
Regards, best wishes, and hope,
-Cecily Jane
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
NaNoWriMo: Ideas+Deadline=Motivation
My Dear Reader,
It's that time of year again. I breathe a sigh of relief every first of November for multiple reasons. One of them is that the dreaded Halloween season is finally over (we'll have to delve into my deep-rooted aversion to Halloween in other entry). Another is that Thanksgiving is in sight, and beyond it (but not at the same time, as others have mistakenly supposed) is Christmas. By November I'm already burned out by school, and for good reason: October is the only month in the Fall semester without an extra day off. So there's a lot going on. My excitement for Thanksgiving is fed by my need for a break, and even though professors tend to pile on the assignments at this time, I become less and less enthused. It seems counter-intuitive, then, that I would decide to write a novel during this season of stress and inactivity, but I have, and I will.
It's this thing I heard about last year in a creative writing class: NaNoWriMo, short for National Novel Writing Month. Essentially, it's the writer's version of Around the World in Eighty Days. You think I can't write a 50,000 word novel? Are you willing to stake your reputation on that, gentlemen of the Reform Club? And the race has begun. There are thousands of us who have taken the challenge, but who will conquer? Why, my money is on the brilliantly clever Cecily Jane. With absolutely no real novel-writing experience under her belt, she's an obvious choice.
Okay, so maybe the real reason I took the challenge was the fact that I've been working on this young adult novel for over a year and I haven't done any actual writing since I began. I've done brainstorming and pre-writing, though; I have a little notebook that I keep in my backpack to write ideas in when they come, but the writing process had been put on hold due to a serious lack of motivation. This has become a problem because my novel's fan base, namely my brother Youngest, will soon be too old to be interested. My novel's geared towards ages nine-to-eleven, and Youngest will be eleven in December. I have to get at least a rough draft done by then because, after all, I'm mostly writing it for him.
So I'm going into NaNoWriMo with a purpose. I'm also going into it with 6,000 words or so, which means I'm cheating. Still, "winning" (i.e. writing 50,000 words) means I'll need to add about 1,667 words a day, so the head start I got shouldn't make that much of a difference. The key here is motivation. I've been attempting to write a novel for a year without much success. Now I've got over 18,000 words, which puts me a little behind, but it's way farther than I would have been on my own.
Sometimes, all you need to do what you really want to do is a little push. For a writer, next to inspiration a deadline is the best sort of push that you could get. So even though this deadline is artificial, it's still a deadline, and it's still motivation, and I'll take it.
I'll see you at 50,000 words.
Regards, best wishes, and budding novelists,
-Cecily Jane
It's that time of year again. I breathe a sigh of relief every first of November for multiple reasons. One of them is that the dreaded Halloween season is finally over (we'll have to delve into my deep-rooted aversion to Halloween in other entry). Another is that Thanksgiving is in sight, and beyond it (but not at the same time, as others have mistakenly supposed) is Christmas. By November I'm already burned out by school, and for good reason: October is the only month in the Fall semester without an extra day off. So there's a lot going on. My excitement for Thanksgiving is fed by my need for a break, and even though professors tend to pile on the assignments at this time, I become less and less enthused. It seems counter-intuitive, then, that I would decide to write a novel during this season of stress and inactivity, but I have, and I will.
It's this thing I heard about last year in a creative writing class: NaNoWriMo, short for National Novel Writing Month. Essentially, it's the writer's version of Around the World in Eighty Days. You think I can't write a 50,000 word novel? Are you willing to stake your reputation on that, gentlemen of the Reform Club? And the race has begun. There are thousands of us who have taken the challenge, but who will conquer? Why, my money is on the brilliantly clever Cecily Jane. With absolutely no real novel-writing experience under her belt, she's an obvious choice.
Okay, so maybe the real reason I took the challenge was the fact that I've been working on this young adult novel for over a year and I haven't done any actual writing since I began. I've done brainstorming and pre-writing, though; I have a little notebook that I keep in my backpack to write ideas in when they come, but the writing process had been put on hold due to a serious lack of motivation. This has become a problem because my novel's fan base, namely my brother Youngest, will soon be too old to be interested. My novel's geared towards ages nine-to-eleven, and Youngest will be eleven in December. I have to get at least a rough draft done by then because, after all, I'm mostly writing it for him.
So I'm going into NaNoWriMo with a purpose. I'm also going into it with 6,000 words or so, which means I'm cheating. Still, "winning" (i.e. writing 50,000 words) means I'll need to add about 1,667 words a day, so the head start I got shouldn't make that much of a difference. The key here is motivation. I've been attempting to write a novel for a year without much success. Now I've got over 18,000 words, which puts me a little behind, but it's way farther than I would have been on my own.
Sometimes, all you need to do what you really want to do is a little push. For a writer, next to inspiration a deadline is the best sort of push that you could get. So even though this deadline is artificial, it's still a deadline, and it's still motivation, and I'll take it.
I'll see you at 50,000 words.
Regards, best wishes, and budding novelists,
-Cecily Jane
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
My Secret Identity
My Dear Reader,
Something that's very strange about working in the food industry is that no one seems to recognize you when you're wearing a hat and apron. For me, part of the problem comes from the fact that I never wear my hair up unless I absolutely have to. That's right; I believe that my hair wants to be free. So people who are used to seeing me outside of work often don't recognize me at work, while my co-workers don;t recognize me outside of work. It's kind of like I've got two identities: Cecily At-Work and Cecily Off-Work.
I remember once, when I was at the grocery store, I ran into a girl that I had just worked a shift with a couple of days before. I waved to her. No recognition. I smiled. No response. I then realized that she didn't remember me, and I wasn't exactly going to walk up to her and try to convince her that we had spent three hours together making salads the last Friday. So I tried to avoid/ignore her, which got really awkward for me somewhere around the deodorant aisle. I was trying to decide whether I wanted my armpits to smell like tropical silk or mango satin (I'd really like them to smell like nothing at all, but we all know this is clearly impossible), and she was apparently in the same conundrum. And how can you choose between two fictional fragrances? I mean, really. It's just ridiculous. So we sat there hovering around the deodorant for at least five minutes, and the whole time I felt incredibly nervous because I knew who she was and was trying to pretend that I didn't, while aware that she could be very possibly doing the same thing. I just wanted to die.
Something I thought of recently was that I could really use the disguising properties of my hat and apron to create two distinct identities. At school and home I can be Cecily, mild-mannered English major, while at work I can be someone named Olivia. I don't know exactly what kind of person Olivia would be, but I guess I could just make it up as I go along. Maybe she's really into martial arts and ballroom dance. Maybe she's the second cousin of Al Gore. Or maybe she once saved several small children from a tragic and deathly fate. The possibilities are endless. It is truly unfortunate that I didn't realize that I had the power to create this alter ego until I was already well-established in my current job, for the world may never come to know the Olivia I could be.
Something else I thought of was that it would be really easy to create a spy network of people who posed as fast food workers. They could live normal, productive lives until their services were required, when they would dash off into a telephone booth and become whatever it says on their name tags. Trust me, this plan is even more brilliant than it seems. After all, nobody really pays attention to people who work in food. Sometimes people will have conversations in front of you like you're not there. Sometimes people will have conversations about you like you're not there. This could be crucial when the situation requires covert surveillance. Also, people tend to believe that food workers normally do things that human beings would never think of doing, such as break very social rule that was ever created. Since spies often have to do very strange things without raising suspicion, this could come in handy. Again, the possibilities are endless. If you are interested in creating a spy movie/network under this premise, please contact Olivia.
In the end, I guess that it shows that people get tripped up fairly easily when information is presented in a way that is unfamiliar. It also reminds me that I'm going to school so I don't have to stay in the food industry forever.
Regards, best wishes, and alter-egos,
-Cecily Jane
Something that's very strange about working in the food industry is that no one seems to recognize you when you're wearing a hat and apron. For me, part of the problem comes from the fact that I never wear my hair up unless I absolutely have to. That's right; I believe that my hair wants to be free. So people who are used to seeing me outside of work often don't recognize me at work, while my co-workers don;t recognize me outside of work. It's kind of like I've got two identities: Cecily At-Work and Cecily Off-Work.
I remember once, when I was at the grocery store, I ran into a girl that I had just worked a shift with a couple of days before. I waved to her. No recognition. I smiled. No response. I then realized that she didn't remember me, and I wasn't exactly going to walk up to her and try to convince her that we had spent three hours together making salads the last Friday. So I tried to avoid/ignore her, which got really awkward for me somewhere around the deodorant aisle. I was trying to decide whether I wanted my armpits to smell like tropical silk or mango satin (I'd really like them to smell like nothing at all, but we all know this is clearly impossible), and she was apparently in the same conundrum. And how can you choose between two fictional fragrances? I mean, really. It's just ridiculous. So we sat there hovering around the deodorant for at least five minutes, and the whole time I felt incredibly nervous because I knew who she was and was trying to pretend that I didn't, while aware that she could be very possibly doing the same thing. I just wanted to die.
Something I thought of recently was that I could really use the disguising properties of my hat and apron to create two distinct identities. At school and home I can be Cecily, mild-mannered English major, while at work I can be someone named Olivia. I don't know exactly what kind of person Olivia would be, but I guess I could just make it up as I go along. Maybe she's really into martial arts and ballroom dance. Maybe she's the second cousin of Al Gore. Or maybe she once saved several small children from a tragic and deathly fate. The possibilities are endless. It is truly unfortunate that I didn't realize that I had the power to create this alter ego until I was already well-established in my current job, for the world may never come to know the Olivia I could be.
Something else I thought of was that it would be really easy to create a spy network of people who posed as fast food workers. They could live normal, productive lives until their services were required, when they would dash off into a telephone booth and become whatever it says on their name tags. Trust me, this plan is even more brilliant than it seems. After all, nobody really pays attention to people who work in food. Sometimes people will have conversations in front of you like you're not there. Sometimes people will have conversations about you like you're not there. This could be crucial when the situation requires covert surveillance. Also, people tend to believe that food workers normally do things that human beings would never think of doing, such as break very social rule that was ever created. Since spies often have to do very strange things without raising suspicion, this could come in handy. Again, the possibilities are endless. If you are interested in creating a spy movie/network under this premise, please contact Olivia.
In the end, I guess that it shows that people get tripped up fairly easily when information is presented in a way that is unfamiliar. It also reminds me that I'm going to school so I don't have to stay in the food industry forever.
Regards, best wishes, and alter-egos,
-Cecily Jane
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