Tomorrow may very well be my last tutoring session with the Estonian girl I teach. She's very sweet but it'll be wonderful to have Monday and Friday afternoons to myself again. Especially with NaNoWriMo so near I can smell it.

I have joyously recruited at least two friends from church to participate in the madness with me. Last year my old roommate decided to give NaNo a whirl but she quit partway through the month. I have another friend who has been participating the past couple years. She's a writing fiend who eats novels for breakfast, so this is a challenge she was already game for.

I'm excited for the Gainesville Institute's "Zombie Prom" tomorrow night. I haven't been able to experiment with special effects makeup since high school when we did "Dracula" my senior year...well, unless you count the fairy makeup for A Midsummer Night's Dream this summer. That show involved an airbrush though, so I wasn't wholly responsible for the cool effects.

With zombies on my mind, though, I've spent the last several days looking online for easy and gory effects to use on myself and my friends (let's be honest: who doesn't dream about zombi-fying their friends just for the fun of it?) and figuring out what to wear to the dance. I'm not usually the kind of girl who frets about wardrobe choices, but I think costumes in general require some thought. I found some old fabric my roommate left behind when she moved out. She used it for a Little Mermaid costume the first year we lived together. I have put it to use in a somewhat less Disney-related fashion. We'll see what other people think.

So today I went to the local costume shop in search of liquid latex and/or Plastiwax to simulate fake skin (into which you can cut gouges or peel back parts to make it look like flesh is rotting off your face. Neat stuff, says the theatre geek inside me. Careful or you'll scare the kiddies, says the more sensible part of me who realizes not everyone likes to look disgusting when they're headed off to a dance.) The store parking lot was jam-packed with cars, and there was a large sign outside the front that said in large bold letters:

No backpacks.

No purses.

No bags.

NO EXCEPTIONS.

Well, I had my school bag with me but didn't see a place outside the store where I could check it with an attendant, so I pulled open the front door anyway.

About two feet inside the door was a burly guy with a (fake) gash in his arm that was dripping (fake, I hope) blood down his wrist.

"I'm sorry," fake-gash guy says in a voice indicating he's not sorry at all, "I can't allow that bag in the store."

I pause. "Um, okay," I respond. Then for lack of a better way to say it, "What do I do with it?"

"Well, leave it in your car." He points outside.

"I don't have a car."

Gash Guy folds his arms. "Well, I can't have it in the store, and I can't hold it for you and I can't watch it for you." He's really helpful, this one. Is there anything he can do?

Unsympathetic to my plight, he resumes his stance in front of the aisle, which I notice is the only accessible aisle in the place. Apparently if you don't get past this guy, you don't get to the Holy Grail. Other customers are filing around the store in what looks like a single path carved out for them with guardrails - yeah, big metal guardrails. Cattle to the slaughter, these customers. I wonder briefly if they're being frisked before checking out.

So I did the only thing I could think to do at this juncture. I left the costume shop and walked to CVS. They allow purses there.

My laptop decided to explode on me. With three days before NaNoWriMo starts, this is unacceptable. I don't know what part of the cosmos I offended to have this happen, but the writer inside me is weeping. Not least because most of my outlines are now sucked into oblivion.

See, I have a backup copy of my computer on an external hard drive. I backed everything up on October 11th, which was approximately ten days before I got my actual idea for this year's novel. I got excited and made some notes on NeoOffice document...because my copy of Microsoft Word disappeared the last time my laptop exploded, about a month ago.

I thank my lucky stars that I've been regularly emailing my old roommate who is now on a mission. I've been sending her essentially my journals for the week, so I've only lost about four days' worth of my journal. Still, any loss is inconvenient.

What really cooks my grits is that my social calendar is so jam-packed as to make any trip home for fatherly computer repairs inconvenient. I can limp by on my external drive well enough; the only thing now is that my laptop makes a funny clicking sound, and none of my files are in the right place...and oh yeah, my novel outline has been eradicated from my computer's recollection. Not to mention my fears about typing anything on my computer ever again.

Back to good old paper and pen I go.

I am a silly, silly girl. That's all there is to say about that.

I tutored on my own yesterday for two hours. Hopefully I made my point that I'm not just going along for the ride on my partner's coattails. Honestly, I think I did a great job of getting my student to talk. We read two books by Peter H. Reynolds ("Ish" and "The Dot"). If you haven't read any books of his, you should. They are beautiful in their simplicity. Very much a feel-good genre.

I chose those books because my student loves art. We talked about the different things she's been learning in art, and I shared a few things I remembered from all my elementary and middle school art projects. Then she read a Curious George book and part of a Magic Tree House book ("Buffalos Before Breakfast") in which the characters are transported to the Great Plains. That sparked a discussion about the United States. I drew her a ridiculously bad sketch of the shape of the United States and pointed out Florida and Illinois (where I used to live) and Utah (also used to call home) and told her a bit about the pioneers who crossed those plains on foot. I'm not sure how much of that she absorbed, but at least she was exposed to a fluent English speaker.

I do believe I may have decided how to do NaNoWriMo this year. One with a sad ending. Or bittersweet, which is not something I've done before.

I've been reading this book, Writing Magic: Creating Stories that Fly by Gail Carson Levine, the author of Ella Enchanted and many other retold fairy tales. One of the writing prompts she gives in the book is to write a story with the ending line already in mind. The one I'm choosing (tentatively, because I still have ten whole days to change my mind) is:

Maybe they would see each other again. Maybe they wouldn't. It didn't matter anymore. She waved good-bye.

Now mind you, I have no idea who they are or who she is, or even what universe this is taking place in. But I think that maybe this year I'll write my novel backwards and figure these things out as I go along. Maybe referring to my characters as he and she and they will take some of the pressure off and let me do whatever I want with these characters without feeling pressure to do something great.

Monday (Well, Tuesday as I write)

I woke up this morning feeling very hopeful. Well, actually the morning didn't start out that way. I actually woke up feeling migraine-y (that's a word, yes?). Also I woke up feeling sleep deprived. See, the past few nights I've been getting to bed at incredibly indecent hours. Examples include the following:

Friday night we had people over and I went to bed at three thirty a.m.

Saturday night we had people over and I went to bed at two.

Last night I went to bed early (ha!) at eleven, only to wake up at six for class.

Mondays are busy, as are Wednesdays. Tuesdays only feel busy because although I only have two classes, they're spread out over an eight-hour period (one at eleven, one from six to eight thirty). So the first half of my week always drags and is stressful with all the things I have to remember.

But after popping an aspirin-caffeine-acetaminophen to calm my brain (and experiencing a hefty amount of caffeine-induced jitters to accompany my morning), I felt a lot better. The day was wonderfully brisk outside. I got to wear my woolen peacoat for the first time this fall. I made it to my first class on time (well, ahead of the T.A. at least). I got some knitting done in my first two classes. I heard a good Weepies song on my iPod. I knew most of the tunes we practiced in Irish ensemble. I had some yummy chicken soup and an enjoyable discussion with our Institute director and with JQ who is quickly becoming one of my favorite people in the world. And then I went to Institute class and got to lead part of the discussion, and I rocked it. Brother B came in to find me still up at the front facilitating the discussion and said he owed me part of his paycheck. My friend D-Bro and Elder B paid me very kind compliments which they said were not compliments because they were facts (and D gave me advice on who I should marry, which I found hilarious). And then my tutoring partner showed up and we planned for our lesson that we'd teach the little girl we're helping learn English.

So right up until about three thirty, the day was going swimmingly.

That was when we arrived at the home of our student, and her mother decided I wasn't doing enough to help out with the tutoring sessions.

See, my partner and I are in different classes, both of which require that we work with an English learner as field experience. My partner (let's call her Sue) is required to have more hours than I am, and she's been working with our student for a couple of weeks longer than I have, partly because she got the assignment first, and partly because the week I was supposed to start, I got sick. I wasn't there for the first week or so, when the Mom suggested all these activities to Sue for them to do, like going to the circus and going to the FSU Rez, and going to Tom Brown Park. Sue called me and we've been getting together to plan our activities with Student before we go over to her house each week, putting together vocabulary lists and talking about Student's progress. This week the theme is "Circus," so Sue found a book about the circus for us to read and we spent the afternoon working on a lesson plan and looking up vocabulary words for us to introduce. Mom's supposed to get tickets for us to go to the circus on Thursday.

So we get there today and Mom says she got the tickets, but only for Mom, Student, and Sue. I'm surprised because I thought I was going too, since I'm, you know, also the tutor. Then Mom asks us what the plan is for today. Sue reminds her of the circus theme and I mention the book and the vocab. Then Mom turns to me and asks, "And what do you have?"

I don't know what to say. I start to reiterate the vocabulary that we'll have Student do, and Mom shakes her head. "Do you have anything planned for today?" And she's looking at me as if she's expecting me to come up with an entirely new and exciting lesson plan all on my own right there on the spot. I'm confused. I say that Sue and I are partners in this tutoring business. She goes on to say that the circus was Sue's idea, that this is "50-50" and that she wonders what I have planned. And then she tells Sue that she doesn't need to come next Monday, that I'll be coming on my own.

And all the while I'm standing there thinking, what the heck, lady? First of all, she's not paying us to do this. It's for a class. I'm not doing this for kicks. I'm doing this to fulfill a requirement. And working with a partner is not only perfectly legitimate, but it's one of the only ways I can possibly complete the assignment. Public transportation takes twice as long to get out to where she lives, and if she really insists on me making a special trip out there without Sue, I fully intend to count transit time as part of the experience.

So after she got through making me feel incredibly awkward, we got to take Student outside to have her read to us. Sue dropped me off at the Institute and I retreated to the library to lick my proverbial wounds. I had D-Bro and Ang to help, and I vented to my roommate once I got home. Then I emailed Student's Mom trying to clear the air (is she really keeping me from going to the circus? She really wants to keep me from getting my hours done, just so she can insist on extra sessions with her daughter? REALLY?) and forewent a nap to bike to the Institute for FHE.

Wes, Lena, Vic and I continued with our Firefly saga until the wee hours. I love my friends. Much as I love those who were with us before, it was nice to not have them that talk at the theatre to sully the experience this time around.

I hate Wednesdays.

I've fallen lax with this, as with many other things lately.

Saturday morning a bunch of people from the ward went to the temple in Orlando. Victoria drove our car, with three other girls and me. I was the DJ. It's nearly a four-hour drive from here to Orlando, so we got a lot of girl talk in. The session was great, if a little lengthy. I found out yesterday though that one of the girls in our car may have left her wallet at the Chik-Fil-A where we stopped for dinner on the way home.

On the drive back we talked to the girls in the car about dating. One of them is currently dating someone, and the other two are waiting for guys who are currently on their missions. They gave us some tips on catching a guys' eye that were pretty hilarious. Apparently it's a good idea to wear white to get a guys' attention. Also, I was told that it's much easier to keep a guy than it is to catch one in the first place.

Sunday was fast Sunday at church. I'm on the committee for the Break the Fast potluck after church, which meant I had to duck out early in Sacrament Meeting to help get things set up in the cultural hall. But it turned out better than any Break the Fast I've ever been to. The theme was "Soup, Salad, and Breadsticks" and people could bring any of the three (or dessert). And we had such an amazing turnout. There was so much food on the four long tables that we had to have the silverware and plates on a separate table. I just hope people's enthusiasm carries over next month. It's possible that people will think they can get away without contributing next month because everyone brought so much this time. But I hope not!

Monday I went to FHE for the first time this semester. Arnold taught the lesson; the theme is Articles of Faith, so he did numbers 5 and 6. Then we played Spud in the gym, one of those violent schoolyard games involving lots of running around and numbers and being tagged with a volleyball. I was one of two last girls standing. After we were tagged out, the game got a lot more violent. Then we had a sort of girls' night watching Remember the Titans at our apartment. I say "sort of" because Todd came. We ended up chatting into the wee hours with Lena and Charlotte about guys and people in the ward and dating and whatnot. There was no earthly reason for any of us to be up that late, but it was fun nonetheless. I love girl talk.

Tuesday I only had one class. After it was over I was walking by the student union and saw that there was a Clinique truck parked on the green. They were giving free makeovers and taking photos for entry into a Vogue magazine contest. I decided to do the girly thing (I don't usually) and hopped in line. The PR representative was trying to get us to act all happy and excited and do the FSU war chant so they could film it with their camera crew, but it was hot and muggy outside and a lot of us hadn't eaten lunch yet, so I don't think we gave her the results she wanted.

I have no idea if I'll win the contest, and I don't mind if I don't. I got a little pampering and some makeup tips, and the photographer was handing out free samples, so I even got a mascara and a two-in-one lipgloss set out of the deal.

P.S. The only time I get Clinique is when my mom goes to stock up during their gift days. She gets the soap and things she need, and I steal her free samples. They last me all year.

Today will be busy. Linguistics, followed by Irish ensemble, followed by Intro to Speech, followed by a short break during which I will dash to the Institute across the street from campus and grab some lunch, and then a three-hour Teaching English as a Second Language class. Then a jaunt home for an hour, before heading back to the Institute for Brother B's class. It's because of the length more than each particular to-do item that I hate Wednesdays.

Cookie Monster

I crocheted this Cookie Monster doll this summer. I couldn't be more proud.