Prank Called

notes to people who prank call my phone at 3:40 AM
-Try to be somewhat intelligible
-Don't call me at 3:40 AM
-Be more creative than shouting "Yo yo yo!" and proceeding with a bunch of gibberish
-When "Restricted" shows up on my phone as the phone number I know someone dialed *67 before their number and that it is probably a prank call.
-Don't call me at 3:40 AM

✎Writer's Content: Story Takeover

I have always had an active imagination. Too active. Now I think part of my imagination has altered a bit recently. I'm a little less imaginative about certain things hence certain things don't scare me. And I will remain silent on what "certain things" are just to make it bug you.

Now because of this, I honestly believe another part of my imagination has increased it's momentum.

In other words I have trouble sleeping not because I'm scared of the dark or because I'm too tired but because I have stories which refuse to leave me alone. It's like "Six Characters in Search of an Author", where the story refuses to leave you alone until you write it. The problem for me is I know where the story is going...but I'm not sure how to get there. I don't know what words to type so that I can write the story. I don't know the events leading to the story that one girl is trying to tell a boy from the past. I don't know how to write so the story of dead butler and a house that can heal so I can write a first draft and alter it later.

But do stories understand?

Nope...

Now excuse me please because one of my stories is still bugging me about a title....little cretins...

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Have a cake with a silver mouse on it!

For my source of inspiration look at this:   https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3AQgEHMWtXejP089rMN-cs_UGWW_bBgOcrvadXBrHW9zJDeD5drvgM9eHt4tzvSsyf6PWOCSyNAv6uByoSxV2_91lMHNZ_nGGgbwQjFrEfD9Gn-ecQp9ENwxCJZwy7iil4uUfluv8iVz/s1600-h/Julie+Chris+B.jpg

Biased Material: A Discovery

Have you ever thought about why people say "A new discovery"?  Is this statement not redundant?

Anyway,

I have discovered a simple equation including my family and a food controversy.

Equation:

Dad from New Jersey+ Food controversy on TV (Chicago Deep Dish Pizza+ New York Style Pizza) = pizza for dinner

Let me explain for those not familiar with the NY-Chicago controversy.

• People in Chicago don't know how to make pizza.
• People in New York and New Jersey do.
• The Chicago version of New York Pizza is they take a buttery crust that cannot be tossed and shove it into a cast iron pan they then put the topping on the "pizza" in the wrong order
• Mozzarella is bottom layer after the crust.
• sausage (at least they have good ingredients) or pepperoni or what would normally be the topping is the second layer after the Mozzarella.
• The top layer of the pizza is then the pizza sauce and they try to cover up their mistakes by sprinkling parmesan on top of the whole thing
• This is just plain wrong... 
•  <-- too literal interpretation of "pizza pie"
• New york pizza:

• ...yum :)

Anyway, While my mom is from the Midwest she understand the superiority of the New York over the Deep Dish and was only too happy when Dad refused to put up with more of "Throw-down with Bobby Flay" Where Bobby Flay went against his bias and worked to beat a Chicago cook at making Chicago style pizza. 

We didn't even finish the episode.

After dad declared he "would not stand for this" ...we went to Ramunto's :P (no I was not paid to advertise for them but they are really good!)

So equation: Dad+suggestion of Chicago style "Pizza"= Ramunto's for dinner :)

buon appetito!

Serious Content: Plot Twists

A plot twist could be anything. It could be warned or hinted at before it happens. Or it could simply run up to you, slap you and steal your favorite stuffed dragon when you were completely distracted by something else. Most of the time we accuse another person for creating the twist.

Sometimes when we give that blame, we were the plot twist the entire time.

The truth about a plot twist is that you don't find them (as a reader) while the author is editing, cutting or adding to the story being written. You find them when they have happened. When your eyes read over the words that either cause you to jump, to raise an eyebrow, to remember you had cookies baking, or -the desired effect- to paralyze the reader so all he or she can do is read the book faster, wanting to make sense of it all.

The big truth about plot twists (at least if you're slightly Calvinistic) is God already wrote and edited the entire story of your life. Once you discover the plot twist He added you can do nothing to change them. All you can do is turn the page to continue your life.

Because every plot twist has a resolution and not all of them are unpleasant. :)

♀GIRL CONTENT AHEAD!: Most Embarrassing Moment

Not that I'll ever suspect a guy of reading my blog but still the warning is that a guy can skip this and live a perfectly fulfilled life.

Anyway...

This happened to me my freshman year of college. I had just given blood because:

• I could save three lives with 1 pint of blood
• My then boyfriend and I wanted to do it together (Interesting date, eh?)
• Free t-shirt
• Free cookies ☺

Well what I did not realize was that next week I would be starting my cycle. After the first day I stop caring about drinking enough to "replenish your fluids" and left off after one day.

You can probably see where this is going.

I had never had cramps before. I would be sore and maybe a little sick to my stomach the first day but the rest of the week I'd be fine. That morning I got dressed but fell a sudden "pull" in my stomach. 

I had never felt it before but my roommate, who always got cramps and got them bad dismissed it easily as "It's cramps. You will feel like your [stomach] is eating itself but, hey, congratulations you're a woman." so I figured I'd take an ibuprofen and be fine. I was fine and didn't feel anything until I was eating lunch with Stephen. After the meal ended I began to get the feeling like my stomach was clenching itself in protest....and I really had to pee. So I go and do my business and he waited outside for me because we had a service to go to and we were going together. 

Well after I get out we still have time so we sit in the campus snack shop...and I'm getting sicker and sicker. Finally I figure my ibuprofen wore off and I need to get more so I buy some from the campus store and take it but of course it doesn't work instantly and I feel like I need to go again. 

Unfortunately this service was a service outside visitors would come to in droves so every bathroom had a line except for the dorms...which were locked because we needed to head to the service. Finally I go to the chapel and tell Stephen to wait downstairs while I went upstairs to go to the bathroom again. He has a sister so he can guess at what is wrong with me and is a little concerned because while I could not see it I was growing paler. I got upstairs finally and as soon as I got into a stall my body lurched forward and threw up my lunch and the undissolved ibuprofen into the toilet. After that I felt well enough to go back downstairs and try to brave the service out. But after I go downstairs I fell again like my stomach is about to have an encore since the first experience wasn't painful enough. As soon as I meet Stephen I ask him if he has a bag and as soon as he hands one to me I throw up into it. Now there are a lot of visitors...it's also a very warm spring day...and it's in the south....and the foyer for the chapel is CROWDED. So I leaned again a wall while Stephen made panicked phone calls to my sister.

 

Finally the pain, heat, and loss of fluids cause me to faint but wake up as soon as I hit the floor. Then one or two girls finally notice I am not well and turn to look at me. They then ask Stephen repeatedly, who is still trying to get my sister to come because I'm sick and he doesn't know what to do, "Is she okay? What's wrong with her? Is she ok? Did she eat something?" and a few other people began to crowd around me in curiosity. Finally my sister gets there with her friend, Austin. Austin is always a little squeamish so when he saw the bag of throw up in my hand and my yellow face and lavender lips (according to my sister) he almost contributed another queasy stomach to the event. 

As my sister got there the first thing she did was tell everyone TO BACK OFF. She was getting bumped and towered over by curious people who "wanted to help" by asking as many questions as we couldn't answer. I said to her as clearly as I could because I was a little disoriented "It's my period. It's my period." and she was like "Ah, ok I'll get someone to help. NOW EVERYONE BACK OFF SHE NEEDS SPACE!" Finally an usher came over and asked if he could help and got someone to take me to a side room. The girl who helped me get into the side room was nice enough but she obviously would rather be sitting with her boyfriend that she was texting than helping a girl who needed desperately to go to the bathroom again. Thankfully that side room had that.  

So while i'm doing my business suddenly I get the feeling I am about to faint...bad. And I m completely embarrassed. (While this is going on the pain in my stomach is increasing and it feels like it is eating itself...) The last thing I wanted was to faint and have them find me while my "pants are down" so to speak but I knew I needed help so I finished up and as soon as I got my pants on I let myself fall on the floor and called for them to help me. Before they had considered perhaps I could just stay in the side room on a floor cot and listen to the service, but now they figured I needed to go to the campus hospital.

So they drag in the rickety fold-up wheelchair and begin to roll me there and she . stops . any. time . I . make . a . noise . of . pain. Finally I tell her "Please just keep going I want to get there." and she only stops to make sure no cars are coming when she is crossing the street. As we head up the hill to the hospital a kindly male member of staff stop and asks if I am all right...

I'm in a wheelchair, I'm discolored, clutching my stomach in pain, making groans and I can hardly focus my eyes on one thing at a time because they're rolling around 

...and you ask "Is she not feeling well?" 

(facepalm)

So I finally get there and as I'm rolled in they call the triage nurse to come and help me. Now the triage nurse is actually someone I know a little outside the hospital and I meant to catch up with her before then. Buts he comes barreling out and ask "Jess! What happened?" and I say "Hi, Mrs. Vanderwarker I'm sorry I haven't contacted you this semester." 

So that all being said I was in a hospital room and was able to keep some pain meds down so I could sleep until the pain finally went away.

But to this day I still laugh when I think of seeing someone who is obviously sick and the only question you ask is "Is she not well?" or "Is she ok?"

Serious Content: A Week or So Ago

You know, one of the most difficult challenges for many artist, whether he or she uses paints, pencils, pastels, or words is the blank. It can be a blank canvas where a masterpiece may go, or a painting which will be ruined and scrapped. It could be that blank sheet of drawing paper which could be a moving drawing...or trash. For a writer, or someone who hopes to write someday, a blank piece of paper seems to be a powerful amnesia, helping the writer forget all the brilliant things that were going to make a dazzling story.

Wanting to make a dazzling story is what I've been struggling with since I first realized that my overactive imagination could be shared in stories. 

So, for my first blank page I want to tell you story of something that changed in me a few weeks ago. As I said before I wanted to dazzle people. I wanted to write something that would be a statement controversial and remembered. I never would have admitted this before. I claimed I knew God wanted me to be a writer so I couldn't be anything else. I understood that I would need another job to support myself but I also pictured that I would write a book so wonderful I could support myself on writing alone in due time. I planned it all.

No big sudden event happen that all of a sudden changed my mind. Except one night I could not fall asleep. All I could think of was that I told a friend I was certain I would never be a missionary since God wanted me to be a writer. What my friend told me stuck in my mind. He said he was willing to go and be a missionary if God called him no matter what the cost... For him that meant changing his Dramatic Arts major to Youth Ministries. I saw a change in him that bugged me that one night. He had changed from a determined theater major who wanted to do everything, to a Youth Ministries major who had a goal; a heading for his life. 

Finally, I remembered a few years ago at camp, not just one time at camp, but for the previous few years at camp and at school where I promised God that I would go if He called me, no matter what the cost. I realized I had broken to promises by saying that I knew that God was planning for me to write books, for His glory of course, and become a beacon for others. I wanted to be the next Frank Peretti or Ted Dekker or C.S. Lewis. I wanted glory for myself.

I realized while I don't know if God is calling me to no longer write and to be a missionary to others, I needed to be willing and ready if He does. I promised Him.

You know one blank page many people may not have trouble filling (I'm talking about organized people here) is the page of a planner. Their whole days, weeks, and very possibly their months are filled out. In our minds we easily fill out a general planner for the rest of our lives. Go to school, get a job at that, get married then, be settled then, live here for that time, have that many kids, fill that blank page, fill that blank page, fill that blank page, and freak when God crosses stuff out and writes in there Himself.

But He always plans the best for me.

So while it may seem odd that I created a writing themed blog when I'm questioning if God will want me to write for my life I want to record the journey He will take me on to realize His plan. 

And to see what my blank page becomes :) 

P.S. I do plan on this blog being a bit more serious in tone but I hope to have another blog in the future with a lighter tone about....oh who knows what? Compilation of embarrassment?...perhaps :}


UPDATE: Don't need two blogs. One is fine. I'll keep this both humorous with serious mixed in.