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Friday, May 21, 2010

Prompt Friday: "Bubbles"

None; just a little plot bunny running around.


She turned on the tap and let the water fill the bathtub as she searched for a book of matches. The six or seven candles sporadically placed throughout the bathroom were lit and flickering merrily, beginning to pool scented wax around the wicks, as the water, steaming slightly, reached an acceptable level.

Twisting the taps back to the right (right-y tight-y, left-y loose-y Layla always had to remind herself), she stubbed her toe on the clawed foot of the bathtub before stepping into the near-scalding water.

It took a few seconds for her skin to grow accustomed to the temperature, but she slowly slid her body under the surface of the water, stretching until she was entirely submerged, save for her face. The water plugged up her ears and muffled the sound of the light, ambient music she had put on before entering the bathroom.

It had been ages since she had taken a bath.

Life has this funny way of sneaking up on you and piling on stress and aches and pains without you realizing it. And before long, Layla thought, feeling her hair fan out around her, the gentle buoyancy of her body in the water, airlines are charging you an extra twenty-five dollars in luggage fees for the bags under your eyes, your left arm absolutely refuses to move more than a thirty-two degree angle in any direction and the bedsheets seem to be getting heavier and heavier every morning. And since she didn't have any vacation time in the near future, a hot bath was going to have to suffice.

Layla took a deep breath and held it, plunging her face under the water, blowing bubbles out her nose. She opened her eyes underwater and watched how the light from the candles danced across the disrupted surface of the water, glancing off the spherical sides of the bubbles that drifted away from her and fracturing into half-hearted rainbows.

The water had lost some of its stinging heat, and Layla settled back against the porcelain side of the tub and closed her eyes, rolling her head to work out the kinks in her neck. Something cracked back into place and she could feel at least three different muscle groups relax. She leaned the back of her head against the edge of the tub and toed at the hot water tap, easing the temperature up a few more degrees. The tiny waterfall from the faucet created tiny bubbles that crawled up the length of her leg, and the sensation made her smile. Her cheeks felt stiff, protesting the action. It had been too long since she had smiled. Her job was slowly sucking all the enjoyment from her life and my face she thought, smiling, again, to herself coaxing and prodding her muscles back to life.

She let herself slip back under the water, letting the bubbles tiptoe their way over her hips and up her sides, easing her tension away.

nt - 5/21/10

Notes: Can you tell that I am in dire need of a bath?

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Question Wednesday

Q: Are you going to get your EMT certification?

Most likely.

I'm currently looking into EMT classes because I clearly don't have enough going on in my life. I figure I can work private transport, rather than emergency, and, as I understand it, an EMT certification is transferable internationally. So when I go to the UK, I will be able to get a job with the NHS (presumably).

Unfortunately, it's a matter of squeezing it in and not losing half my life to EMTing, since I barely have any time to myself as it is. All the female EMTs I see at work are really intimidating, too, so that's ... scary. WILL I MAKE FRIENDS?! Yeah, I don't know. It's a lot to think about, the course is six months and I'm just.... incapable of committing to much of anything these days.

Everyone keeps telling me to do it, though. Not that I've ever been one to follow the bandwagon.

In other news, my grandmother apparently thinks I'm a playa (yes, with an 'a' as opposed to an 'er') which is HYSTERICAL.

...And now, back to your regularly scheduled Wednesday.


Monday, May 17, 2010

Status Report Monday (grumble)

Well, that didn't go quite as expected.

After a year of getting pat answers about my screenplay, someone finally gave me the honest truth: good concept, needs massive work.

I went into my phone call on Friday assuming that, after what I had previously been told, it would be a much more positive experience than what actually occurred. Rather, I was made to look like an amateur (even moreso than I really am), and it was a huge sucker punch to my self-confidence.

Now, I'm feeling particularly gloomy about the whole situation.

I don't even want to look at my screenplay right now; and even though it has a lot of potential, I'm starting to really hate it. I never really wanted to be a screenwriter, I wanted to write novels, but the idea had been growing on me... and now I just don't even want to think about it. I'm sure, given some time, I will go back to the screenplay and make it a lot better, but right now, I kind of just want to set it on fire.

At least I finally got honesty. I hate it when people don't tell me the truth for fear of hurting me or whatever.

NOTE: I am not made of glass, I am not fragile - tell me the goddamned truth.

Furthering my rather craptastic mood, I have poison ivy/oak/sumac/unidentified itchy grossness all down my left arm (and a tiny bit on my right) and it's itchy (as mentioned) and oozey and burning and I could really deal with the itchy bit, but the oozing and burning are just unacceptable.

My grandmother's back in the hospital with an abscess in her lung, which is ten different kinds of NOT GOOD, I have to email my grad school to put off my Master's degree for ANOTHER year, and I just... need to get away from everything. Since the likelihood of THAT being a possibility is less than zero, I will instead scratch at the lovely rash on my arm and get excited for the season finale of Castle tonight.

And, if I'm lucky, I may even get a little time to work on my manuscript. HA.