Tongue Tied

Seth and I had an interesting discussion about the predominate personality types tonight. We are definitely opposites when it comes to introversion/extroversion, and I love that I can pick his brain and discover what lies beneath all the behaviors I don't understand. Because, quite frankly, I don't understand extroversion, simply because it's just not how my brain works. I don't know how to be free and open with my emotions. I don't know how to walk into a room and put everyone at ease. I can't grasp why someone would even want  to talk to strangers or be in large social gatherings for extended periods of time. And from talking to Seth, it's clear that he doesn't understand introverts either. He easily misinterprets an introvert's silence or withdrawal as judgment. He doesn't know why someone would want to sit quietly at home for extended periods of time. He can't fathom why talking to people would be hard. I'm so glad God put us

I am by nature a homebody. There's no question about that. I like routine. I like the warmth of our home. I like quiet. I like having many hours in a day to complete my tasks. I don't like deadlines or rushing around. My perfect day is spending the morning doing school and spending the afternoon cleaning my house (with bursts of internet and reading sprinkled throughout). For awhile, I've felt like this is something I should be ashamed of. Laziness has definitely  been a life long struggle for me. Before I homeschooled (and even in the first couple of years of it), I really, really struggled with getting things done. Back then, I loathed routine. I hated having a to do list. I wanted freedom to do whatever I wanted to do. But the older your homeschooling child is, the more that's at stake. I had to learn to get more disciplined in going at it every. single. day, regardless of how much I wanted to be doing something else. And as far as housework goes, I becam

You look at me, but you don’t see me. You don’t know me. You don’t remember me. To you, I am a stranger. Your blue eyes fill with fear when I approach. When I touch your hand, you pull away with a gasp. I’m overwhelmed just looking at you. An avalanche of memories overtakes me in a way I both welcome and resist. Sometimes, the memories are catalogued and coherent, sometimes they are fragments and pieces that seem torn out of a random chapter in our story. They are beautiful and marred. They hurt to recount, but I can’t help it. I have to. Because you don’t. You don’t remember when our fingers first brushed in the library, your nose buried in some brilliant tome about the laws of physics, mine in a Tom Clancy novel. You don’t remember how beautiful you looked when you blushed at the contact. You don’t remember when I asked you to marry me, and I nervously stumbled through it and you couldn’t believe that I got choked up. You don’t remember your laughing resp

This house was alive. It seemed sentient. Breathing. Thinking. Feeling. Plotting something dark. Penny tried to remember this house from her childhood, when her Grandparents had filled it with warmth and the smell of just-baked cookies, when laughter echoed through the halls instead of the hollow silence that seemed to scream at her now. As a child, the soaring ceilings and paneled walls had seemed charming and magnificent, a wonderful place for her imagination to create fairy tales, a castle where she could pretend she was a princess in distress awaiting her prince. She wondered if it was her imagination now that made the old Victorian seem threatening instead of welcoming. The beam of her flashlight traveled the walls, catching glints of cobwebs and dust. The house had been vacant for nearly a decade. Her grandparents had willed it to her mother when they died, but for some reason, Penny’s mom swore she’d never step foot in this house after their deaths. Penny re

I have not forgotten that it's October. Here in my little corner of the blogosphere, October means flash fiction. Historically, I've posted my OFFs on Fridays, but I'm obviously getting a late start this year. It was a crazy first week and a half of October. Excuses aside, I have lots of ideas bubbling up and I'm planning to start writing as soon as I find a quiet moment. This year, I'm going to try to do all sorts of genres--American historical, regency, sci-fi, romance, horror, perhaps even some fan fiction for some of my favorites (I'm looking at you, Fringe). Basically, I want to write scenes from all the books I wish I was reading right now. I will post when I post, but hopefully there will be at least one (probably two) a week for the rest of October. Writer friends: join me! Flash fiction is fun! And easy! Only 300 words! Just go easy on the exclamation points! Stay tuned...