Running and Ice. Do not Mix.

Early morning dawns. Her worn blue tennis shoes hit the rocky

pavement. It’s the same, simple road she runs every morning, yet each

day the meanderings of the path calm and refresh her. Left. Right. Left.

Breathing deeply, she forces her legs to keep moving. “Push. Push.

Push,” she softly murmurs to herself. “Just a few more miles.”

Uncomplicated, undemanding, this simple path requires nothing of her.

Her jumbled thoughts, overwhelming to-do lists, and stressful demands

of the day all seem to fade into the background. Everything becomes

still, quiet even. It’s simply her and the pavement. She can’t help

but feel free.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I love running. It's true.

I love the rush of feeling my heart beating quickly, sweat pouring down

my face, and the achy feeling in my legs as I finally round the corner

of Jenkins on the final stretch. Forcing my legs and knobby knees

to cooperate with me is such a challenge, and one I am sure I will

never grow weary of.

There's something about listening to a good country song and

letting the wind carry you where it will.

This week, however, ice decided to grace us with its unloveable

presence. Throwing a severe problem into my already-so-behind

running schedule, I couldn't help but be supremely frustrated being

stuck in my apartment for four days.

Even today, finally venturing out into the world, I was unable to

run my usual route. Let me just say, running is all about the

route you take. As a good friend of mine once said, "Running is

about the journey, not the destination."

With treadmills, this journey is completely thwarted.

Let's just say these horrid machines suck the joy out of strapping on

my favorite pair of blue sneakers.

It's... just... awful.

Instead of being surrounded by beauty and life, you're stuck in a gym

next to a double-zero Pi Phi, who seems to be in an unnannounced

competition with you. Her thick, blonde locks bounced perfectly in sink

with her strides, whereas my short strands struggled to stay in place.

Her thumb presses the "Increase" button with resounding confidence

as I continue praying I don't collapse mid stride.

That'd be embarrassing.

I miss running.

By myself.

Without the monotonous treadmill setting the pace for me.

Going from street to street.

Ice melt away soon, please.

Bored?

The sun is beaming. Its brilliant rays are soaking up all this

January gloom.

Spring sprung forward.

School interrupted my peaceful break of sleeping ridiculous amounts

and reading absurdly grand novels for no real reason. I just

wanted to. Isn't that such a great concept? Reading for pleasure?

I'm afraid the tediousness of copyediting may drain me of my intense

desire to read everything on the Barnes and Noble shelves.

Is it a curse to do what you love? Will we all be eventually broken of

our passions?

I'm currently conjuring a story in my head about a man who

undergoes just that. Chris Daton is his name, a man who got everything

he wanted, but in the end he is alone, bored, and miserable.

(Coming to stores near you in 2012).

Boredom. It's definitely one of my most prominent fears. I don't

want to simply "get through" my days, post-graduation. I want to LOVE

my job,fixing dishelved plots and twisted characters. I want to live

zealously, fully, and abundantly. Isn't that what Christ called us to, after

all? This desire, I hope, will not allow me to be satisfied with

mediocrity or passivity in any aspect of life.

I fear the same thing with the schlump I will one day marry. Poor guy.

Too often, couples get bored.

But, unlike your profession, you're simply stuck. Conversation drains.

Interests collide. You both are morphing into these old, saggy versions

of yourselves. The scary thing is, are you transforming together?

Or apart?

Who is to say in 5, 10, 50 years from now you will still be as madly in

love, if not more so? The thought is terrifying.

I just don't want to be bored.

I don't want to regret anything.

Life is but a moment.

School officially begins tomorrow. I'm more excited to start this round

of classes than I was the first day my turquoise moccasins hit the

Norman pavement back in 2007. The fact that I'm taking a whoppin'

TWO classes may have something to do with this unexpected enthusiasm.

However,

it could also be attributed to the joy joy joy I got down in my heart :)

It's amazing how God can completely turn your perspective on its head.

This semester is just going to be so wonderful. It already is.

Great friends. Internship with the bff. 7 hours of pure writing. New

people. RUF. Phi Lamb. Nannying. Great roommates. Reading.

Dink (my new car).

Bliss. Bliss. Bliss.

I'm so thankful for new beginnings.

Cars and Copy Editing

The past few days I have been doing two things: copy editing

and car shopping.

Currently, I have been working some post-production corrections

for an interesting novel, Betwixt.

This isn't a book I would necessarily gravitate toward in one of

my waste-my-life-away-in-a-bookstore days. However, it has

adequately managed to keep my attention. Poor Ms. Watson. I'm a

bit too harsh, I suppose. Although her writing technique is flawless,

or quite nearly so, she struggles with keeping her readers'

(or at least, this reader's) curiosity. And what's a book, after all,

without intriguing characters and engaging action? Who really

cares if your sentence structure is exquisite and your adjectives are

perfectly descriptive, if you aren't really saying anything?

I'm nearly done with it.

It's strangely exciting to me.

I'm probably making myself sound entirely more important than

I should. [Need I remind you, I am at the bottom of the publishing

food chain.] In spite of this, I eagerly look forward to sitting in my

quaint "office" space with its teal colored walls every morning. I get

to hear the lovely Kacie Kinney's voice on the phone throughout the

day as she is housed in the same area. Tate just continues to be a

wonderful place to work. And in a few days, it will be even better! Hooray

for Tiffany Anne.

Between commutes from Norman to Mustang, editing and nannying,

I have been onthe phone with my dad more frequently than usual. We

usually talk once a week, or so. However, today is a special day. Seven calls,

to be exact.

He'll excitedly tell me to look up a type of car. Ford Fusion. Nissan Sentra.

Matrix. PT Cruiser. They're all starting to blur together, really. Not that

I has any real working knowledge of cars to begin with.

Certain models have different gadgets, better gas mileage, a pretty

exterior (which, let's face it, is all I really care about).

All the cars are already "good" candidates, quality vehicles. They will

all get you from Point A to Point B, easily. However, the art in car purchasing

is finding the ones that truly shine, the cars that make you want to roll the

windows down and scream sing to "Party in the USA" while cruising

down the highway. :)

Who knows? With a little luck, you may see me down I-35 next week doing

just that.

Well, This is New

So much new. So much excitement.

The past 24 hours have made me constantly smile. Not something I have been doing a lot of the past few months, quite frankly.

Today I awoke completely bright-eyed. After a fitful night's sleep, I eagerly jumped out of my leopard print snuggie and into the shower. Today was the day! I couldn't help, but belt "Don't Rain on my Parade" in between my usual lather, rinse, and repeat cycle. Oh, bliss.

I donned a pair of sleek grey slacks from New York and Company.

My trusty pair of black heels and purple scarf completed my professional ensemble. I was ready in 25 minutes despite the hour I had allotted myself. I left my apartment with ample time to spare. This was mostly due to a lack of sleep/anxiety about not being able to find this place. With my mapquest directions in hand, I jumped into my (er Sam's) Yaris. RIP little Camry.

John Mayer did an excellent job of calming my nerves as I ventured toward Mustang, Oklahoma. Have you ever noticed that there really isn't that much to notice in Oklahoma?

Forty minutes later, I arrived. Funny. I was 40 minutes early. To avoid any embarrassment of being spotted in the parking lot,

I took a little detour around the small, quaint town. I quickly found a Wal-Mart and decided to get something for my lunch, like a true grown-up at work. I finally made my way back.

Tate Publishing and Enterprises.

My boss soon met me at the front desk and gave me the grand tour. She didn't seem to hear my heart beating wildly, or at least she pretended not to notice. We went through several offices. All the while, the grand process of publishing books was being explained. I caught glimpses. I tried to soak in as much as Kalyn was pouring out.

I entered several rooms with 10-15 individuals frantically working behind computer screens. Lucky for me, I'm not shy, for Kalyn proceeded to introduce me to the entire room. Conceptual editors, copy editors, illustrators, multimedia, and marketing departments. Besides concentrating on not tripping, I was truly engrossed in the whole place, the people, the process.

This is where books HAPPEN.

This is where great literature comes to life.

I couldn't help but smile.

My status as the newbie intern currently involves filing COA forms in some rather uncooperative drawers. Other tasks will come. My knicked thumbs will appreciate the break. Honestly, it doesn't matter what my future responsibilities entail. I just love being there! Obviously, I want to learn as much as possible... and that will come. :)

I am so relieved, so excited about my future in the publishing industry.

It's all just so new! (Including this blog. Eek!)