OH MY GOODNESS

I am so bad at achieving my goals, just making one is like setting me up for failure.

Also, I was supposed to be asleep over an hour ago. Just another goal that I didn't accomplish.

SIGH.

Well, good news. My current roommate and I have decided to live together next Fall, and we're going to visit some places tomorrow. Basically this means that I will not end up living in a cardboard box under a bridge! YAY.

Bad news, I got sick today. It's probably because I don't sleep. *POINTED LOOK AT THE CLOCK*

I'm going to bed. Five minutes? Pshaaaw.

Over and out.

Every other day? Okay

I swear, I am so bad at this. I'm still posting (somewhat) consistently, but not quite making my goal. Sigh. I'll go longer than five minutes today to make up for it.

I find that I tend to update after reading a friend's blog (check her out, she's amazing!). It's probably this latent jealousy I have toward her. I have excellent friends that are all doing excellent things and it just makes me want to be better. Those are the best type of friends to have, don't you think?

Right now my life has two main components: my schooling and my relationship. I love the majority of my classes this semester. I'm taking Media Writing (LOVE), Principles of Journalism (boring), Masterpieces of World Literature 2 (I'm iffy on this one), American Government and Politics (such a review class after APGov), Book of Mormon (LOVE), and Insight: Honors Program Magazine.

That last class deserves a little explanation. Basically I'm on the staff for the Honors Program's magazine here at BYU. I'm the only freshman on Senior Staff, which means that I write a lot and work my butt off. I love it, though. I'm finding that maybe I'm more into magazine writing than news writing...but we will have to see.

And of course, the other part of my life is my relationship with Boyfriend. Have I mentioned that he's amazing? He makes me feel even more self-confident than I already am because he is so loving and accepting and understanding. Seeing and being with him is often the best part of my day.

I just love my life! Occasionally I get bogged down with worries and doubt (for example, where am I going to live in the fall?) but I'm learning that if I have faith, humility, and patience, Heavenly Father will direct my paths and all will be well.

Hmm. It seems I enjoy using parenthesis. I wonder if this will be a continuing trend.

Over and Out!

Not again...

OH NO I ONLY HAVE 4 MINUTES LEFT IN TODAY AND BY THE TIME I POST THIS IT WILL BE TOMORROW AND I WILL HAVE MISSED ANOTHER DAY!

WHY AM I SO BAD AT THIS??!??!?!??!?!????!?!??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!

Well today was rather interesting. The whole thing was thrown off by a bad dream, which put me in the weird mood that swung between distant sadness to eating peach pie to ranting about Measure for Measure to tackling Boyfriend in his dorm's hallway. But then he cuddled me and we had a talk and I read to him from The Little Prince and now everything is better.

Okay, five minutes are up. I'm tired. Goodnight!

I'm really good at this...

So technically I've only missed one day, and that day was the Sabbath. Maybe I can pretend like I was just trying to keep the sabbath day holy...

Okay, write for five minutes. What do I have to write about? Well, I just put down Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, which is this really awful book about sex and prostitution and immorality. I wouldn't be reading it if it weren't for the fact that it is assigned for my Classic World Lit class. Yeah, I know. THIS IS BYU, PEOPLE. I would hope that in the least we wouldn't have to read such lewd and disgusting things. But, you know, it's Shakespeare, which must mean that it's good, right? ...Right? WRONG.

Recently I've been not liking Shakespeare so much. I mean, what's so amazing about the dude anyway? I mean, yeah, he wrote a bunch of stuff, but he borrowed ideas a ton and resorted to rude humor a lot. Bah, humbug.

Okay, two more minutes. Eventually this is going to get easy, but I'm so out of practice. It's like these rush writes I did last semester for my First Year Writing class. We had to sit there and keep writing for the whole time, not stopping, just to see what we could come up with.

One minute. Final thoughts time. Honestly, the biggest thing on my mind is love right now, but that's not new. One of the biggest parts of my life right now is my wonderful, fantastic, amazing boyfriend who is also my best friend. There is much happiness to be found when you combine BFF closeness and romance.

Time's up! I'll see you tomorrow, dear blog.

Happy New Years!

Dear Abandoned Blog,

Hello. Remember me? Yes, I'm that girl who is supposed to be updating you with words and happiness. Sorry for casting you aside like an used pair of mismatched socks. I am very ashamed of such behavior.

So, here I am, come crawling back with a sheepish grin. I do have a reason for being here. See, I'm supposed to  start writing daily. Nothing big, just writing for five minutes every day about absolutely anything I want to. This is where you come in. Yes, I am here expecting something of you after not giving you a second look for months. I'm terrible, I know.

So, five minutes every day. I know you can't be too optimistic about that. "But Jessica," you say, "what about your track record? Haven't you shown over and over that you never stick to these sort of goals?" Why, yes, dear blog, I have. But everyone can change right?

Right?

Well, for what it's worth, I missed you. See you tomorrow.

Love,

Jessica

1st 1,025 Words

            My legs were beginning to yelp at me, every ropey muscle straining and aching from the deep crouch I’d been holding since early morning. Every sound that echoed through the underbrush of the forest was met by a flick of my ears as I strained to find the right noise. My fingers adjusted their tight grip on the handle of my deer-bone knife and I sunk lower, ignoring the screaming protests and bunching even tighter in anticipation.

            There. A rumbling snort. I licked my whiskers.

            Red and yellow leaves and several frightened birds were kicked up as I sprang out of my bushy hiding place, my paws and hands hitting the ground with enough force to fling me straight into the shrieking form of the wire-haired bush pig. My tail streamed out behind me like a victorious banner, heralding the triumph of the kill as my knife sunk into the hind-quarters of the hog.

            Squealing and bucking, the pig took off, ripping itself free from my blade’s grasp, splattering my fur with rich and heady blood. I licked my whiskers again, smirking as I took off after it.

            Fall colors streamed around me, blurring until the only object in focus was the fleeing bush-pig. Even the crisping leaves lost the sound of their crunch as I whipped through the underbrush, breathing deeply through my nose. Each breath brought the metallic scent swirling through my head, which only served to sharpen my eyes. The pig was slowing and, as I gained, I once again readjusted my grip on my knife.

            I came down on the creature with blade and claws and teeth, holding it down and making a quick, clean swipe across the neck. Thick, red blood poured out of the hog’s gasping throat and I hurried in to lap it up before the earth drunk it all. I unhooked my claws and let the animal slump to the ground where it lay in its last death throws. I collapsed too, falling back on my haunches, my face and hands gleaming crimson and ruby. My tail twitched with satisfaction.

            Quietly I began to clean myself off. The pig let out a last wheeze, then fell silent. The more daring of the birds cautiously chirped back into existence, until the only sounds left from my hunt was my soft licking. My rough tongue combed the blood out of my marbled gray fur, slowly bringing the silvery sheen back. I rubbed my face and whiskers, painstakingly placing every hair back in place.

            When I finished, I set to work on the pig, tying the feet together with a couple of strips of rawhide , threading a sturdy stick between the legs, and hefting it up to my shoulders. My legs protested yet again, but this time I paid even less attention. The wet mud I was leaving behind; the heavy, bristly weight on my shoulders; the racing, pumping beat thundering in my chest and ears: these were the symbols of my victory. I was full of the thrill of the kill.

            Slowly I let a smile creep onto my face and my eyes gleam with excitement. My tail couldn’t keep still, twitching in untamed joy, wrapping around my ankle, jumping up to brush the still-warm form of the bush pig, leaving a wavy trail in the dust of the forest floor.

            Deep in the back of my chest a deep purr started, rumbling the happiness I couldn’t express.

            I returned to my hiding place, digging out the make-shift sled I had previously prepared out of branches, sticks, leaves and grasses. I let the pig fall heavily upon it, quickly lashing it down and heaping the rest of my supplies on. I slipped into the woven-fiber harness. It was loose around me, but wouldn’t be for long.

            I shuddered, closing my eyes as I harnessed a part of me that was more wilderness than cultivation. My shoulders moved and popped, becoming larger as my arms grew longer. My haunches also shifted , straightening out my back until it dipped parallel to the ground. My fingers shortened, losing their nimbleness in favor of thick pads and sturdier claws. My face—the transformation of my face I hated the most as my cheekbones moved around and my delicate features became a muzzle. I settled into my feral form, a few last bones and muscles snapping into place. Now the harness fit snugly around my chest, not tight enough to suffocate, not loose enough to chafe: a testament to the months of preparation I had put into this moment.

            I took off running. One advantage to this form: all my senses were sharpened. I could smell strongly the mice fleeing through the underbrush, hear clearly the chattering squirrels arguing in the tree tops, plainly feel the taller grasses brush up against my soft belly fur.

            Soon the empty smell of neutral territory was replaced with the warm, familiar scent of home. The feline smell grew sharper as I traveled inward toward Callowae, until I became accustomed to it and it curled inconspicuously in the corner of my mind. The trees became sparser and the grasses thicker and greener. I broke free of the tree line and stepped into the outskirts of the town.

            Callowae had started as an outpost, the furthest reaches of feline territory, but as more and more cats moved down from the mountains and inward from the seashore, the village grew. It now was the center place for forest activity, and was the main trade post for those felines who found more comfort in trees than in rocks or sand.

            My padding turned into walking as I shuddered my shape back, tightening the harness as I lost the larger form of ferality. Dragging the small sled behind me, burdened as it was, became a much more difficult task as a bipedal. However, I was glad to have my hands back, flexing my fingers and enjoying the ability to grip.

            Signs of early afternoon were evident. Kittens rumbled in the streets, giggling in their fighting play or honing their skills by stalking a younger child or snapping at a butterfly. 

A Confession

Okay, okay, so I'm an awful blogger. I think my problem was is that I started too specific. I simply don't have the time to document my cooking adventures, let alone have cooking adventures. So I'm shifting gears here and using this little slice of the interwebs to track my NaNoWriMo progress.

What's this? You don't know what NaNo is? It's short for National Novel Writing Month. Basically I'm going to try and write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. That's 1666.66666666666 words a day. I've been attempting this for several years, but I've never actually done it. But hey, watch out world, this time Swens has moxie and gumption!

Plus, I have a half-way decent story idea, and hopefully a lot of inspiration. What I really need is a plot, but for now I'm just planning on hashing out some word barf and seeing what happens.

Wish me luck! I'll probably post my progress so you can come on this journey with me through bad writing and good writing. Just give me a second to grit my teeth and force out those first 1667 words.

Happy November!