30 Day Challenge

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Over the past year I have been doing a lot of thinking and talking about making my writing a priority. What I have not been doing is much writing. I started this blog and had big plans to write everyday and change the world one reader at a time. I wanted to find common ground with other women through my words. Long story short, I have not done any of that. So in an effort to spark my creativity I have decided that for the next 30 days I will write at least once. I will follow a prompt or free write a journal entry. I will type it, write it, even make a memo on my phone. The point is that I practice my art at least once a day. The goal of this challenge is not to write a novel (which I totally want to accomplish one day), the point is to make writing apart of my daily life again.

Back before I found all the distractions of young life that lead to the responsibilities of adulthood; I wrote everyday. I would watch NBA games and write game summaries and personal interest stories about the players. Mind you this was pre internet so I brought a lot of newspapers for research (who buys newspapers anymore). I filled my time with my passion. I want to find that passion again. I hope that the 30 day challenge will help me with that.

Now I will be completely honest, I don’t think that I will make a blog post each night. After work and kids, some nights a computer screen is the last thing I want to look at. I will however attempt to make more posts on a more frequent basis. Funny, I’m probably only making this promise to myself, I truly don’t think I have any followers, but it doesn’t matter. I will strive to write this blog with the same passion and focus I had when I wrote those sports articles so many years ago. No one ever read those either.

A Time Someone Said No

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and I was enjoying a relaxing day at the park with my book club friends. We all brought snacks, wine and the July club selection, a historical mystery. I was not really into historical fiction or nonfiction for that matter, but joined book club to inject some diversity into my mainly slutty reading preferences. I settled into my blanket and listened to the middle aged redhead tell the group how she felt about the treatment of women in this period in American history and now women today still face challenges. She was so passionate about the novel it made me almost want to actually read it, almost.

As I turned my attention to watching the people in the park jog, play and just be happy I relaxed and enjoyed the peacefulness of the afternoon. My cell phone buzzed loudly on the blanket next to my head. I reached over and one look at the caller id told me that my plans to relax and pretend to enjoy book club were over. Going against my better judgment and the voice screaming in my head telling me to ignore it, I answered the phone with a cheery, “Hello.”

—–

I stand frozen in his living room as I waited for his response. How did I get here I wondered as I squirmed in my skin. I knew better than to get myself into this situation, it is never an even playing field with Deion. He always holds the upper hand in our interactions. Now I have gone and given him even more power by reviling what I wanted and needing him to comply. Knowing he holds my fate in his powerful, capable grasp.

Breath.

I have to remember to breath and stay calm. This is no time to panic and loose all common sense and composure. I watched him as his eyes roamed my face, searching, questioning, accusing and demanding that my body stay tethered to this spot in his living room. His eyes release mine and just like that my brain and lung connection is reformed.

“Hooh” I exhale the breath I have been holding. “Hmm” I inhale deeply enjoying the feel of the air moving in and out of my lungs.

Now that I can think clearly I use the opportunity to take in the sight of him. He seems so composed and powerful. I absently wonder if his apparent comfort comes from experience. How many other women has he done this too? If I trusted myself more I would ask him, but I am still concentrating on breathing and not falling to my knees in front of him.

He slowly licks his gorgeous thick lips and pulls on the bottom one with is thumb and index finger. I know this look. He is thinking. God help me he is forming a plan. He moves slowly toward me, his 6’2 athletic frame seeming lethal and gentle all at once. The expression behind his eyes was striking and sent a tingle down my spine and to center of my being. As he disappears from my view to stand directly behind me I feel his eyes assessing, questioning, judging. I am not made for this level of stress and, and what humiliation, anticipation, shit I don’t know. I just can’t take the pressure anymore. I need this man to touch me.  As he walks back into my view I notice a slight change in his expression. Is that a smile I wonder. If it is a smile it is very slight and only gives a minute lift to his full plump lips. The sound of his voice focuses me and brings me back to the present.

“Well Allie, After much thought and consideration I  have to say no to your very direct request.”

I knew this was a possibility. I knew Deion did not respond to my demands or even my polite requests. I let his answer sink in before I have the strength to meet his eyes again.

“Ok, so what do you want?” I respond looking up.

The slight up turn in his lips has now become a full smile. “I said no to fucking you on the couch, but I have not problem making love to you in my bed.”  

Ramblings

Love.

What does it mean?

It is a word we use so much and yet everyone has their own definition for it. To some Love means an emotional connection that will survive through all the ups and downs of life. To others it means a sense of security and belonging, to never be alone. Should Love be a constant or is it something that is ever changing just like we do as people. Is it wrong for your definition of Love to change as you age and experience new things? How can you be expected to have the same needs over time, why is the change so hard to understand?

Wanting and needing something different is not something that should cause tension and hurt, but it does. Telling your partner that you need something different from them is almost as traumatic as telling them you have been having an affair. It makes the relationship feel unsettled if major changes need to be made. We like to think that once we fall into the comfort zone of Love that everything else will just work out. That the two people will always want and need what they wanted and needed, but that is not true. A twenty year old girl needs attention and time cuddling on the sofa. The same woman at forty years old may want time and attention, cuddling on the sofa, but will will need support for her goals and aspirations and a partner to share her life experience with.

No More Waiting to Write

I am a professional non writer. Meaning I have tons of ideas and a few things written on a napkin somewhere in my nightstand, but I don’t have a consistent place/time where  I write.

Well, that is going to stop today. Maybe. I hope so. I will do my best. Anyway, this blog is meant to be a place for me to come everyday and write. I will write story scenes, reviews to shows/movies or just write about my day.

I look forward to growing as a writer and even as a person as I let all the ideas, opinions and energy that are inside of me out.

Welcome to my Write Life!