My Father, My Hero

I am reminded of my hero, David F. Clemmons on a regular basis. He is my father, and caring enough to try to save people’s lives, no matter what he is doing when trouble works its way into a situation, seems to be in his blood. I was reminded of this not too long ago.

In the late summer of last year I was up daydreaming around one or two in the morning when the calm was shattered by a screech of tires, and a loud crunch. My parents had been asleep, but I suppose the commotion woke them up, because by the time I made it to the window my father was tearing across the yard at full blast with a flashlight in hand.

For most people this would have been odd, but not for me. My father is very calm and collected in a pinch. That crash in the yard reminded me of another instance when I had been on site to see my dad in action saving someone’s life. My parents, my best friend, and I were on the way home from the movies one night year before last. We were on Pine Grove Road heading towards an awfully dangerous curve, when we watched a green Ford F-150 miss the curve, and drive straight into the steep ditch on the other side.

Dad’s initial reaction was to make sure the driver didn’t have any serious injuries. Stopping the car, he stepped out and dialed for the paramedics as he made his way over to the truck. Once he was certain that there was no immediately fatal damage, he stepped back to let the paramedics do their job. However, he didn’t just get back in the car and take us home. He stayed to find out what condition she was in, and what had gone wrong.

The fact that he didn’t just pull that lady from the wreckage and leave proves that he is a very caring, compassionate person. He has had a sense of duty to the people in this community for as long as I can remember. That was what was running through my mind that night that those people crashed into a tree in our front yard. Once again, my father the hero was taking a personal interest in people’s safety. Honor, compassion, and interest in the people around you are three traits that make the hard-working man who could have done with a couple of hours of sleep stand out in my heart and mind.

He did not sleep in the next day, he got up and did his job the next day because it was his duty to be reliable and keep his word. I don’t believe there is anyone better at that than David Clemmons. His family, his job, and his community have always been very important to him, and that makes him special. He is a person who honestly cares, and wants to improve the world around him in any way he can.

There have been emotional effects from the times he’s dealt with people in need, as well. I remember the tortured look in his eyes the day he told me about a motorcycle accident that happened just down the road from our house. A man was doing somewhere around eighty miles per hour when he missed a sharp curve in the road, and ran up the telephone pole beside the road. He fell first, and the motorcycle fell on top of him, crushing him. My father was the first one to arrive on the scene. The man was already dead, and a macabre mess.

The fact that there was nothing he could have done bothered my dad for a very long time. Sometimes I believe that has never stopped bothering him. The emotional impacts have stayed with him throughout the years of his being a volunteer fire-fighter, and they have been both good and bad. He has gotten lots of satisfaction from all the victims whose lives he has helped save, and returned safely to where they belong. However, there have been emotional losses with each victim that could not have been saved, and that is something that tends to stay with a person all of their life.

It also has an emotional effect on me, and the community. I can’t help being flooded with pride and awe every time I look at the things he does for others. It makes me so proud to be able to say, “You see that man right there, the one who just pulled that lady out of the smashed-up car? He’s my dad.” I know many, many people in this community that he has helped, and they all respect him. He endears himself more and more to people; the more he helps them out. It is a really wonderful thing for me, and for the community.

The things my father does for the community have had a large impact on society, as well. How many people would have been crippled, or killed, if he hadn’t cared enough to rush to the scenes of accidents and give hours of his life to helping them as much as possible? How many people would be motherless, fatherless, left without their sister or brother-son or daughter, through the years if my father hadn’t been kind enough to spend years of his life caring for victims of all kinds? It never mattered to him how the accident happened, every person got all the help they could get, whether or not they had been reckless or stupid. He may have had a long talk with them about being careful, because he did care, but he helped them no matter how they got into the fix they were in.

Where would a number of the people in this county be if it weren’t for good men like my father helping them? Society needs heroes, and my father exemplifies the definition of hero in my eyes. Sure, there have been others in history, the unnamed soldier at Arlington, Martin Luther King Jr., George Washington, but none of them are as important to me as David Clemmons for one simple reason. They could never have possibly measured up to the man who raised me, the man I call “father.”

Evanescence

Amy Lee's voice is heavenly. It can calm me when nothing else can. Also, the lyrics for Evanescence's music are positively transcendent. They take me to another place. I can identify with the stories that the lyrics tell.

Heartache dulls to a hollow throb in the face of this music.

Dear Doormat,

I feel as if I've stolen your job, and I'd like to apologize. I've grown tired of people traipsing over me and wiping muck on me in the process.

So, I'm done. You can have your job back.

Congratulations,
Chelsea

Lucky Jacket

I decided to wear this suede jacket that used to be my dad's today. I've always loved this thing. Dad gave it to me a couple of years ago. For some reason it calms me down. I've always considered it lucky.

I wore it because I had a test in Classical Mythology. Before the professor started, he told us he won't be here for class on Thursday.

When I got into Shakespeare's Comedies, I asked the right questions and gave the right answers on a play I only scanned.

Then I went to Advanced Creative Writing II and the professor had a meeting, so we didn't have class.

So I had from 11:30 to 2:30 free. Had lunch with my best friend.

Also, I haven't fallen asleep yet in Macroeconomics. I'm pretty sure that's a first.

NaNoWriMo

My friend Meg has talked me into participating in National Novel Writing Month this year. It will be my first time and I'm really nervous. It's kind of ridiculous for me to feel like this, considering that I've already published one book.

Crazy, right?

This will be the first time I've really submitted my favorite project to a workshop type of community. I'm really hoping for a positive response, so fingers crossed!

So There's This Guy...

And I have absolutely no idea what to think of him. He's in my Shakespeare's Comedies class. I just made a joke to my professor one day about hating mornings, and not having had my tea yet, and he actually offered me a sip of his tea.

So, of course, I gave him a "what the hell" look and blinked several times before I said, "No, thank you." I had a Mello Yello on the table in front of me, so I'm not really sure why he offered. Also, I can't believe that me saying no was terribly unexpected. I've known him for all of five minutes and he thinks I'll drink after him? No. That's how people get mono. I mean...it was a gracious offer, but I'm not at all sure how to take it.

And then the professor, hilarious man that he is, says "I don't know whether to take that as a sexual advance or not." So the guy, whom I only know as Mr. Davis, turned scarlet and I choked on my Mello Yello. Awkward? Yes.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have masculine attention for the first time in a while. I just have no idea of how I should respond to it. I'd like to think he's interested, but I refuse to flirt. I don't like making an ass of myself. It's not really on my to-do list.

My Brain in Macroeconomics

Production Possibilities Table = Absolutely Mind-Numbing

All this talk of shirts and bread is killing my interest. Why do I care how many units of one affect a number of the other? I don’t. I’m sure there’s a very sensible concept somewhere in here, but I’ll have to dig it out myself.

I’m not sure my Lexapro is working well today. My focus = epic fail. Might have something to do with only getting about four hours of sleep last night because I procrastinated with my satire.

Need to do some reading in Time Management for Dummies when I get to the apartment. After I do my homework, of course. Also, need to update my Do It Now! Journal.

Oh. My. God. I have to sit in this class for 45 more minutes. I can feel my brain shutting down. It’s cold in here.

I need…well, that thought disappeared. Random bit of knowledge for the day: apparently, butterflies lick corpses. That is so Creepy.

Oh! I remember now. I need to get out my dream diary tonight.

Ew. My professor has a hairy chest, and it’s showing. Gross. I don’t want to see that in class. It’s like physical TMI.

I could get up and run around screaming. It being a full moon and that time of the month is, apparently, a very bad combination for me. Throw Macroeconomics into the mix and it pushes me very close to crazy.

Overflow. I hate being a girl, sometimes. I’m installing Safecracker on this computer again. Sudden headache. I hate it when headaches randomly spring up on me. I need to eat. Likerightnow.

I have 18 minutes left now.

Recent Decisions

On a random side note, I hate that reading gives me a headache, as it is my favorite thing to do.

Moving on...

I've decided to exercise every day until the 22nd of this month in the hope of trimming down my waistline (not to mention my abs, thighs, and various other parts of my anatomy). I've also gotten back into the Weight Watchers lifestyle. From today until the 22nd, I will chronicle my progress at the end of each day.

I'm really hoping to be able to get into my black velvet formal, since I'll need it for the captain's dinner on the cruise.

More later,

Chelsea

Tuesday, 25 May, 2010, 2:25 p.m.

Wow. Online classes = hard work. >.< I think they actually have more assignments than on-campus classes. Bleh. I might have been better off just going full-time on campus over the summer, but that would kill my plans. So I’ll deal. Hah. I sound like I’m plotting world domination or something. Well…nah, too much work.

Welcome to my random thought processes. This stream-of-consciousness stuff is pretty calming, which is good since I have a load of assignments to finish before tonight because I’m going on a trip after my intermediate swimming class tomorrow.

Crap, I’m having a tough time making myself focus on these introduction to business assignments. Yuck. Oh, well. I need them for my minor. So, I’ll muddle through, even though I have absolutely no idea what this stuff means right now.

I am such a scatterbrain. I forgot to take my transfer agreement to campus yesterday, so I have to take it up tomorrow. Also, have to pack for my trip to Mrs. Brenda’s. Can’t forget to do that because I’m driving on to Anniston after class tomorrow. CRAP!!! Need to get my medicine filled. Okay. Did that. Now…back to this essay on the connection between the business system and the standard of living. More later.

New Posting Style

As a result of recent developments that have come up in therapy, I'm going to try a new way of posting in this blog. Usually, I make a painstaking effort to use correct grammar. However, since I use this blog for personal musing/venting purposes, I will be implementing the stream-of-consciousness style in my posts. It will be fragmented. It will not be grammatically correct. I am simply going to share my thoughts as they come to me. Most likely, my posts will be random and outlandish. What am I hoping to achieve with this? I don't know. Perhaps some personal revelations. Whatever comes up will be interesting, at least to me.

An Eye-Opening Realization

My therapist asked me to look up the symptoms of codependency for my therapy session tomorrow, and I'm in a state of shock right now.

Codependents Often:

• Expect perfection from others and try to be perfect.
• Feel they have to prove their love through their behavior.
• Are afraid of mistakes, and feel like a bad person when they make one.
• Gain a sense of worth when other people do what they want them to do.
• Feel strongly when someone close to them makes a mistake.
• Figure out what others want and feel to guide their wants and feelings.
• Ignore their own needs to try and please other people.
• Give to others excessively. Gifts, time, attention, and advice are all things a codependent will give in abundance to gain control.
• Identify other people's problems and mistakes easily and feel a strong need to give advice.
• Find it difficult to admit their own mistakes and will blame others instead.
• Feel anxiety, pity, and guilt when faced with someone else's troubles, rather than a healthy amount of empathy.
• Find it difficult to protect themselves by setting boundaries.
• Say yes to things they don't want to do.
• Behavior reflects what they think others want from them.
• Find it difficult to identify their own needs, wants, and opinions.
• Wonder why people don't take stock in them the way they do in others.
• Become overly offended by perceived uncaring and rudeness.
• Perceive others as selfish when they do not care excessively for their feelings, as codependents do for other people.

Welcome to the story of my life for the past...God knows how many years. It disturbs me deeply that I've developed such consistently unhealthy behaviors. How did I let myself get this way? I feel as if I no longer have a self. What happened to the person I was...the person that I'm supposed to be?

When I was a kid, I felt like I had the world at my fingertips. I could do anything...be whomever and whatever I wanted to be. I had opinions and feelings all my own that weren't tailored to please the people around me. Mistakes didn't matter so much because I knew that the people who really mattered would love me anyway...but somehow that got lost and I turned into this mindless, cowardly excuse for a human being.

I have no idea who I am.

Why is this? What have I done to myself?

I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that my life has always revolved around fairy tales. Hell, when I was little my nickname was Princess. Well, that and Fred. Don't ask me how Fred came about. I haven't a clue. I was so enchanted by the possibilities of magic and enamored of happy endings that the real world was only a vague notion to me, if not a complete nuisance that pulled me from the world of my imagination on a regular basis.

The difference between then and now is that I used to control the fantasy world, but I've let it control me in recent years. I lost one of the people who was dearest to me in the whole world when I was seven years old. She was my grandmother, and the woman practically reared me. I was closer to her than I've ever been to another human being. Don't get me wrong. I love and respect my parents. They've given me a wonderful life full of opportunities and love, but they both had to work very hard on a constant basis to get us here. So, I spent most of my time with my Granny Hattie.

My whole world imploded when she died. I hated God for taking her away from me when I loved her more than anyone or anything else in existence. She was the most kind, beautiful, understanding person in the whole world. She was full of faith and grace and a myriad of special gifts. She had a way of making every single person in her life feel that they were special, loved, and that they had something incredible to offer the world. She was such a blessing, and I was so lucky to have her. But I was furious with the world and reality and God when I lost her.

So, I retreated into my little world of fairy tales and refused to have anything whatever to do with the real world. I couldn't see anything beyond the pain, fear, and the feeling that I was utterly and completely lost. So, I tried ignoring the things that hurt, and I ignored some of the good things in life, too. I still ignore them. It's become a defense mechanism. I'd rather be alone than care about people and find myself disappointed and hurt.

I'm not the best person in the world at social interaction. I'm aloof, abrasive, and purposely cold to most of the people in my life. I don't want to feel for people and then lose them. I've become terrified of any kind of emotional commitment. I've become so wrapped up in my fear and pain that I've become more comfortable with abusive relationships than dealing with people who sincerely care for me. I allow myself to be used and molded...I become invisible and I try to bury all my wants and needs with pleasing other people. I don't know how to be me. I only know how to be what other people expect me to be.

I keep all my relationships on a playing field where I am in control. I keep people at arm's length. I've destroyed more than one man who sincerely cared for me because of my obsession with not feeling too much and my preference for abusive relationships where I know exactly what to expect and what is expected of me. I succumb easily to hate and indifference, and run away from love because I know how deeply I can feel for another human being, and it has the power to destroy me if I care too much and then I lose the person I care about in one way or another.

I've driven myself into emotional oblivion. I try to stay numb, but I can only ignore so much. I care so much more than anyone knows. Then I melt down and end up tearing myself apart between my pain and fear and the things that I instinctively want and need.

I think the best way to explain the root of this problem is to say that I'd rather be abused than abandoned. I know...it's sick. I'm sick. I hate what I've become, but I don't know if I have what it takes to un-become it.

I've become well-acquainted with death over the years since I lost Granny Hattie. Every time I manage to gain some sort of equilibrium, another person in my world bites the dust. I feel like it's my fault, like I'm doing something wrong, and that's why I'm losing these people.

Will I ever be able to reclaim myself? I don't know.

"Mirror" - Barlow Girl ~This song means so much to me right now...~

Random News

For a look at my WordPress Author Blog, click here! I haven't done very much with it, yet, but I plan on using it for all things related to my writing career.

In other news, I have QUIT the English/Language Arts Education program at Troy University, and am changing my major. I hated the education classes so much that it made me realize I could never be a teacher. They do far more work than is necessary for way too small a salary. I'm glad that there are people out there who have a capacity and a passion for that field. I, however, am not one of them.

I now plan on majoring in English and getting a minor in Business Administration. I want to work in the publishing industry, and eventually become a full-time writer.

I am almost done with the rough draft of Poisoned Apples, and I've run into a huge bout of writer's block. I don't know what's up, but it's really frustrating.

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Musing in Class

I seriously need to get back on track. If I took school as seriously as I do my writing career...my life might be a little easier. This week, I promise myself that I'm going to get as much of my work done as possible, before I go home. That way, maybe, I can have the weekend to myself without having to be nagged. I hate nagging. I also hate how sick I make myself with stress. I'm just not healthy. I have a lot of things I need to get straight. You'd think I'd be pretty successful and put-together since I'm on college and I've already published my first collection of poetry. Fact is, I'm pretty much a walking disaster.

I'm getting ready to go in to my second day of Classroom Management, and I'm none too excited, just nervous. Another hoop I have to jump through to get this degree. This program really has a way of making a person feel like a strange mix between a circus performer and a lab rat.

In other news, I'm sick again. It's probably because I don't sleep much. I don't have a schedule, at all. I hate routines, but I think I need to get into one for my health's sake.

My Journal Reflection on The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton for Young Adult Lit.

The Outsiders is a powerful tale of friendship, rivalry, and the duality at the root of human nature. Those who have read it all know the story on the surface, the chain of events from Ponyboy being threatened by the Socs while on his way home, to the fire in the church, followed by Johnny’s death, then Dally’s, and everything that led up to Ponyboy Curtis working on a theme for his English teacher, Mr. Syme, that began with the words “When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home….” This book is a world of its own, though it is set somewhere in the American Southwest during the 1960s. The story oozes with a life of tumult in a time when big changes were taking place in the world.

It is hard to believe that a book with such a specific context could be as timeless as Hinton’s masterpiece is in The Outsiders. I believe that it is so timeless because of the story that runs beneath the surface of the plot. The characters’ absolute humanity makes this book universal in nature. Our world still has class struggles, gang violence, and we live in a world of rattling changes hurtling toward mankind at breakneck speed. More importantly, we’re still human. The true, ongoing battle that connects us all with these characters is the battle we fight with the duality of our human nature. No human being can really exist as a two-dimensional character. We are all real, three-dimensional characters with varying degrees of internal and external conflict in our stories. Our lives are our stories, and we are naturally multifaceted creatures. Battles are constantly fought between the ego, super ego, and the id, to put it in psychological terms.

I don’t know of a person who willingly, openly shows all sides of their personality to the world. Everybody has filters, secrets, and everybody lies. I don’t mean for this to sound dark and condemning. I’m just saying that we all have veneers that are presented to the world, as opposed to the complete Gordian Knots of thought and emotion that we can only truly see for ourselves. Hinton did an excellent job of portraying this universal truth with the sympathetic characters she created. I believe that this work is timeless because it paints a faithful portrait not only of Southwestern America in the 1960s, but also of universal human emotion.

On Feeling...

I'm not exactly sure why I felt the need to expose this particular accumulation of thought to the world, but I'm fairly certain it has something to do with vanity.

You may not know my story. You might not know anything about me at all. That's fine. You don't need to know me to read what I'm about to write.

I hate how simple things can get me really worked up. You might not believe it if you do know me, but I cry over the stupidest shit. It doesn't even make any sense, at all. It doesn't have to. If you do know me, and you've known me for a really long time, then you can ignore the following explanation.

I've always been over-emotional and insanely sensitive. I get so angry, angry enough that I make myself physically ill, over the littlest, most harmless and ridiculous things in the world. I can hold a grudge like nobody's business, and God forbid you break my heart because if you do, I'll never forgive you. It has recently been acknowledged that I have been better since I was put on birth control to regulate my hormones, but I am by no means fixed.

I'm still sensitive, emotional, breakable, and terrified of falling for the wrong guy all over again. But I'm tired of being alone. Go figure. My timing has always been unfortunate.

I want to run like the hounds of hell are after me. I feel trapped. And I hate feeling trapped. I wish that I had someone who could hold me and convince me that it's okay, but he's not here. Maybe he doesn't exist. All I know right now is that I'm getting up tomorrow, and I'm going somewhere because I don't want to be alone with myself anymore.

I don't have a clue as to where I'm going. I don't have a plan. I don't want one. And I'm enough of an idiot to hope that when I turn around, he'll magically be there like one of the heroes from the novels I write. I know better. He won't be there. He's never been there before. Why should the asshole show up now, just because I need him?

I usually try my best to be tough, and to take care of myself. I pretend that I don't need anybody or anything. I put on a tough face and keep my chin up because I don't want to get too close to anybody. That's a good way to get your heart broken, and I've had enough of that to last me for years.

I'm so stupid. I know saying this is a mistake. Exposing your vulnerabilities to the world is a great way to screw your life up. It shows people just how to manipulate you, hurt you, and use you.

Just once, I'd like to feel beautiful and wanted. I need someone to be there for me right now, because I'm really not tough enough to handle this on my own. Just once, I'd like to fall in love and not have it end with me being hurt, rejected, and broken.

I know I'm a loser. I'm messed up, and eccentric, and dorky. I know I'm a train wreck when it comes to guys and relationships. I know I screwed things up beyond repair.

I'm not going to ask you for something you can't give me. That's not who I am. If you don't want me, I'm gone. All you have to do is say so. I'm not asking for something serious. I, personally, get queasy at the mere mention of commitment. But I can handle casual; I need casual. If you really want that from me, please tell me. I'm not asking you for a future. I'm not asking you for a serious relationship. I'm not even asking you to not see other people. I don't want to pressure you or freak you out. I've been the crazy, stalker fan-girl too many times before, and it's so humiliating. That's not what I want. It isn't who I am anymore.

But I am scared, and I am alone. What I am asking for is one day at a time. Just for now. I'm hurt, and I'm screwed up. I want you to put your arms around me and I want you to lie and tell me it'll be okay. As long as it's you telling me, I'll believe it...because I trust you. And that's one lie it would do me a world of good to believe right now. What I'm saying is...I need whatever you can give me, for however long you can give it.

Please.

About Chelsea

So, I've had a couple of curious queries about my "boyfriend application" previously posted on this blog. So, I'm going to post a character sketch about myself, too. It is far from being finished, but I'll add a little about myself to it every day. This is mainly just for kicks, but if you're interested you can send me an application.

• Character Sketch
• Title: About Me
• Name: Chelsea Lauren Clemmons
• Nickname(s): Chels, Hobbit, also Muffin, but only ONE person is ever allowed to call me that. He knows who he is. Everyone else, I would advise you not to do it. I'm pretty sure you can't pull it off.
• Birth Date/Place: February 24, 1989/Bay Minette, Alabama
• Character Role: Protagonist (I should be the protagonist of my own life, right?)
• Physical Descriptions:
• Age: 20 until February 24
• Sex: Female
• Race: Human, Caucasian
• Eye Color: Green
• Hair Color/Style: Naturally, it’s dirty blonde. Currently, it’s red. For the moment, it’s short, not even shoulder length. I’m trying to grow it back out, though. It used to be nearly waist length, and I miss that.
• Build (Height/Weight): 5’0”/142 lbs.
• Skin Tone: Fair
• Skin Type: I’ve got a pretty clear complexion, but my skin is sensitive.
• Face Shape: Oval
• Other Important Physical Attributes:
• Style of Dress: Eclectic. That's the best way I can think of to describe it at the moment. Jeans are pretty much the best invention ever.
• How he/she feels about his/her looks: I like to make myself presentable, and I wouldn’t like to be considered an eyesore. However, I don’t like it when people judge me on looks alone. It’s shallow, insensitive, and unfair. I like to feel pretty, sure, but I dislike being judged based solely upon my looks.
• Vision Quality: I wear glasses, sometimes. I have astigmatism and I have some trouble with my distance vision.
• What he/she would change about his/her appearance: I’d like to be a little taller, and I certainly wouldn’t mind longer legs.
• Physical Handicaps or Difficulties: I have been blessed, I have none.
• Characteristics or Mannerisms:
• Unusual/Exceptional Characteristics:
• Mannerisms:
• Diction:
• Accent:
• Behavior when angry:
• Behavior when depressed:
• Behavior when excited:
• Personality Traits:
• Primary:
• Secondary:
• Counter-traits:
• Dominant traits:
• Areas of vulnerability: I am incredibly sensitive, and I don’t take criticism well. Words have the capability to wound me far more deeply than physical pain ever could. I’m insecure, and I have very little faith in myself.
• Major Flaw: Pride. It will be the death of me. I’d sooner work myself into a coma than ask for help. Asking for help means you owe somebody something, and I don’t want to be in debt to anyone…for any reason. I can do things for myself, and if I can’t they aren’t likely ever to get done. I made the mistake of asking someone for help with publishing my book, and I will most likely spend the rest of my life paying that person back.
• Introverted/Extroverted Characteristics of Personality:
• Basic Temperament (calm, volatile, placid, etc.): I’d consider myself to be pretty volatile. If you push certain buttons, you’re guaranteed to get a reaction and I have a flair for the dramatic, if I do say so myself.
• Background:
• Hometown: Bay Minette, Alabama
• Most significant person in his/her childhood: Granny Hattie. You’d really have to have known her to understand why. She pretty much reared me because both of my parents worked all the time when I was a kid. Hell, they still do. They’re the most hardworking people I know. They’ve given me a wonderful life that most people haven’t been blessed with. But Granny Hattie is the one that I really emotionally bonded with as a child. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known in my whole life. She was the most wholesome, good-hearted, caring, and generous person that I’ve ever encountered. I can’t possibly say enough to make you understand how amazing she was. She had a way of making you feel special, like you could do anything in the whole world, and she made you feel unique and wonderful and precious and worthy.
• Most significant event of his/her childhood:
• Major childhood trauma and its long-term effects: Losing Granny Hattie pretty much imploded my world, my faith, and the way I see everything. To be perfectly honest, part of me is still furious at God for taking her away from me. I know it’s wrong and that I shouldn’t feel like that, but I do. I’m afraid of loving people as much as I loved her. The pain you experience when you lose someone like that is what I imagine hell to be like, if you add cold to it.
• Parents’ marital status: Happily married for what seems like forever, now.
• Typical first impression on others:
• Obsessions:
• Superstitions:
• Politics:
• Attitudes:
• Fears:
• Worst Fear(s):
• Biggest Dream(s):
• Character Flaws:
• Character Strengths:
• Regrets: I have two big regrets in my life. I mean major ones. One is that I didn't go to see my Granny Hattie before she died. I had the option to go and see her in the ICU, or remember her the way she was, and I chose to remember her the way she was. It was the wrong choice. I was seven when I made it, and I won't ever forgive myself for that. I'd kill for a few more minutes with her now. The other regret is a much more recent one. There was this guy, and he was kind of perfect for me. Surprisingly, not only was he perfect, but he was also crazy enough to want to try and have a relationship with me. I was an emotional train wreck at the time, one who was hell-bent on getting revenge on her cheating ex-boyfriend. So I shoved this great guy out of my life and broke his heart. I have never been a bigger jerk. Ever. I can't excuse or forgive myself for the way I hurt him, either. Frankly, Dad has never been more disappointed in me, and neither have I. So, if that amazing guy ever happens upon this, I want him to know that I'm sorry for what I did to him. Those are my two biggest regrets in life, thus far.
• Educational Background:
• Beliefs:
• Religion:
• Priorities:
• Status and Money:
• Class:
• Manners/Social Graces:
• Attitude toward money and why:
• Occupation/Vocation:
• Occupation:
• Childhood dream job:
• Profession encouraged by parents/family:
• Job Satisfaction:
• Work-related travel:
• Good traits:
• Acknowledged by:
• Bad traits or flaws:
• Admitted to:
• Work philosophy:
• Income:
• Relationships:
• Family/Ethnicity:
• Relationship(s) with immediate and extended family members:
• Views on Love:
• Marital Status: Unmarried. And single.
• Present relationship with significant other: None. I am incredibly single.
• Past relationship that most influenced her:
• Sexual History: I'm not an innocent, and I kind of regret not waiting.
• Consequences of past sexual relationships: There haven't been any physical consequences. As for emotional? I plead the fifth.
• Significant personal losses and her reactions to them:
• Best Friend:
• How she relates to friends in general:
• Closest confidante and why:
• Biggest enemy and why:
• How she views the other characters, and how these views may change over the course of the story:
• Ambitions:
• Internal Conflicts:
• External Conflicts:
• Miscellaneous Notes:
• Possessions:
• Recreation:
• Hobbies:
• Leisure Activities:
• Exercise Regime:
• Pets:
• Journal Entries:
• Correspondence:
• Handwriting:
• Astrological Sign:
• Talents:
• How he/she rewards and punishes himself/herself:
• How he/she would describe himself/herself in one sentence:
• How he/she would describe himself/herself in one word:
• Secret from the past:
• Favorites:
• Taste in Books (i.e. genre and/or type):
• Taste in Music (i.e. catchy, soulful, fast-paced, etc):
• Favorite Song(s):
• Favorite Movies:
• Favorite Clothes:
• Favorite travel destinations:
• Favorite car or preferred method of transportation:
• Favorite Muse:
• Food Preferences:
• Et Cetera:
• Random Questions:
• What is a nervous habit of hers?
• What time of day does he/she prefer? I'm a total night owl.
• Does she know how to swim? When did she learn? Absolutely! I can't even remember not knowing how to swim. I learned when I was very young.
• Is there something that she always has on her (clothes notwithstanding)? I always have the silver and emerald ring my Mom gave me a few Christmases back, and I always have the ring that belonged to Granny Hattie that Mom and Aunt Becky gave me when I graduated from high school. I almost always wear my silver necklace with the silver thistle pendant that my dear friend Jess (from Australia) sent me a couple of years ago.
• How does she like to celebrate her birthday?
• Is she prone to whimsy? How about melancholy?
• Can she cook? Not well.
• How does she feel about children? Is she good or bad with them? They're kind of scary, to be honest, but Lilliana Claire is changing that, some. As for the second part, I have no idea.
• If she could go any place in the world, where would she go?
• Describe one really embarrassing thing she’s done while drunk (that she doesn’t remember). I plead the fifth, here. I'm not sharing anything in this part of the form, because I obviously do not remember anything of the sort.
• Describe one really embarrassing thing she’s done sober.
• Does she have trouble speaking in front of a crowd? I think it's a kind of situational thing, but I generally do not have trouble speaking in front of a crowd.
• Name something she’s ridiculously afraid of that she knows is stupid. I'm ridiculously afraid of spiders, and of getting my heart broken again. There are a lot of negative feelings packaged in that little phrase. Disillusionment, disappointment, crushed self esteem, hurt pride, dashed vanity...the list goes on.
• Name one activity that’s part of her day that bores her to death. Having to wait for anything. I'm impatient as hell, and waiting is a huge inducer of boredom and irritation for me.
• Has she ever disappointed her family or friends? I probably do that on a fairly regular basis, to be honest. I'm stubborn, wild, and I have to do everything the hard way. It can't be easy on my family and friends.
• Has she ever disappointed herself? More than I'd like to admit.
• Name one physical aspect she loves about herself; that she hates about herself. I love my eyes, but I hate how short I am.
• How long could she stay in bed before going crazy? This is a crazy question. I sleep ALL the time, so I'm not sure how to answer this. If I wasn't sick, and had nothing to occupy me, it'd be 72 hours, max.
• When was the last time she was sick? How bad was it? I had a stomach virus last week, and it was one heck of a nasty bugger. It wrung me out and left me to dry.
• Is there a day she counts down to?
• Is there something she can’t forgive herself for? There are a few things, actually. I may list them at some point.
• Does she have a favorite word? If so, what is it? Fantasy. Take it as you will.
• Does she put things off until the very last minute or does she get things done right away? I'm a terrible procrastinator. I never get anything done until the last minute.
• Does she like to gamble? Nope. I don't like to play games where I'm unsure of the outcome. If I can't be sure that I'll win, I'm not likely to play. It's not my style. I'm a bit of a control freak, really. I also do not approve of gambling with money, for personal reasons.
• How does she manage her anger? Cope with stress? Calm her nerves? Not well, if we're being honest, here. I tend to pretty much stay wound like a top. The only thing I do that actually helps me with any of the above is writing poetry, and that only happens when the muse is cooperating.
• What’s the longest she’s stayed awake?
• If he/she was dropped into a strange situation or place, how would he/she react?
• If she needed to cause a distraction, how would she go about it? Well, it would be dramatic, that's for sure. Probably ridiculous, also. But it would get people's attention, and that's the important part of a distraction, right?
• What’s her favorite footwear? Or does she like to go barefoot? Or maybe just in socks? I prefer going barefoot, unless it's cold. Then I'd have to say in socks. Don't get me wrong. I'm not against a nice, sexy pair of shoes. I'm just lazy.