Just Silly

Uninspired for the second day, I turned to my Writer’s Toolbox for a writing prompt.  I was given the first sentence, the twist and the final phrase.  Here is where all that took me:

I was dressed in a completely inappropriate shade of pink.  From the scarf around my neck, all the way down to the polish on my toenails, I had chosen wrongly, as usual.

The crowd was a field of black and white.  Men in black tuxedos, women in black satin or velvet and some in white chiffon, all turned to look as I entered the room.  I know something classical was playing in the room, but what I heard in my head was the abrupt sound of a needle scratching a record from the center all the way to the rim.

Across the room, I saw him.  Tall and with his black hair neatly combed, I recognized him by the white rose in his lapel.  You would have thought he might have clued me in when I mention he could recognize me by my pink dress.  Oh well, I decided, the only solution was to seduce him so he would forget about my atrocious fashion faux pas.  Anyway, who sets up a blind date in a room full of men wearing the same tux?

I floated across the terrazzo tile floor as a black and white sea parted before me.  “Don’t trip, don’t trip,” was the mantra running through my head.  I looked up into his deep blue eyes,

“Hello, ” I said. “I’m Lyla.”

“I know,” he said with a smile.

Or was it a smirk?

“I’m Mark, and might I say, you are definitely the most colorful woman in the room.”

“Uh yeah,” I said with a roll of my eyes, ” I guess I didn’t get the memo.”

“Well, I kind of like being the guy with the most colorful woman in the room.”

“Oh,” I replied and then spent some time staring at my shoes.

“Shall we dance?” he asked as he took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

The rest of the night was a blur.  Seriously, I lost a contact on the dance floor and things were blurry all night.  But, we danced and talked and the pinkest girl in the room had a great time.  We shared a cab home and in one brave moment, I invited Mark up to my place for one last drink.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, as I twirled into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.  I assembled the necessary glasses and wine opener and then peeked back around the corner into the living room to make sure he hadn’t escaped.  There he sat on the sofa in his white button down shirt and loosened black tie.  He had respectfully left his shoes at the door and then I knew it was meant to be.  The most colorful girl in the room met her perfect match, the handsome blind date with a hole in his sock.

Call of Duty, NOT

Imagine the phone rings and it’s the phone call of all phone calls.  It’s the call that makes your day, your week, your year.  Who would be on the other end of that line?

My phone rang last night after dinner and the caller ID said it was my older son calling from college.  My first thought was, “what does he need me to bring him, now?”  My second thought was, “oh, no, something’s wrong.”

So with trepidation, I answered the phone.

“Hello…”

“Mom?”

“Yes…”

“Guess what?  I am having the greatest day!”

So there you have it, my phone call of all phone calls.  My 18-year-old son was having a great day and he called home to talk about it.  I really can’t imagine anything better than that.

All those time-outs, and sleepless nights, and demands that he at least taste the food before he refuse to eat it had paid off.  Despite the nights spent at the kitchen table over homework with me yelling, Sit up in your chair!  Now pay attention!” and that year he told me he hated me and I was the worst mother in the world, my son wanted to share good news with me.

With passion in his voice, he told me of professors he had met that day and brainstorming that had occurred.  He had a plan for the next
four years and he was inspired.  We talked until he was all the way across campus and in front of his dorm.  We said our good-byes and I sat for a moment stunned.

I don’t think I would have been any more excited if the President himself had been on the line.  My son is 18 years old.  He has dreams and goals.  He is inspired.  And when he wants to share good news, he calls his mom.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

NaNoWriMo Modified

There is no way I am ready to take on the challenge of attempting to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 consecutive days, but the first day of November (also the first day of NaNoWriMo) seems like a good day to set a goal.

My plan is to write every day for 30 days. I recently downloaded the IDoneThis app for my phone, as recommended by Patti Digh, so I’ve written at least one sentence about my day for most days over the past two weeks. It’s not very creative, but it’s an exercise in accountability, I guess.

Over the next 30 days, I’ll be traveling out-of-state at least twice, attending a wedding, a high school play, and a choir concert. I’ll be cooking Thanksgiving dinner and decorating for Christmas. All are excellent excuses for why I won’t have time to write! My goal…navigate the obstacles.

http://www.nanowrimo.org/