This blog was started as a way to make myself write on a consistant basis with the goal of the repetitiveness allowing me to eventually shift to writing a book. As June is the one year anniversary of my blog, now seems like as good a time as any to start this endevour. I am going to start writing my book on my blog. Since this will be a work in progress, I might stop and restart, or change things as I go, but you will just have to suffer through that–I will warn you if I have changed the main character’s name or something equally important. Writing for you all is what makes me keep writing, so I want to do this here. This will obviously be a very rough manuscript, but it will get the ideas on paper…or disc as the case may be. I may be shooting myself in the foot by doing this because as we all know, nothing is ever really gone from the internet and if this book were ever picked up, having a free version on the internet might not make the publisher all that happy, but oh well…So here goes. It’s untitled at the moment, but basically, it is loosely based on my life…or rather the life of a 25 year old singleton and will be for the most part, Chick Lit. in the direction of Bridget Jones’ Diary or other books like that. I may write it everyday, or every other day, or not write it for a week, but I will do my best to keep up with it. I will continue my other posts of course. This will just be another category of my writing. So without further ado, the beginning of my book…
The “BLEEEAT, BLEEEAT, BLEEEAT” of the alarm clock awoke Tyler, screaming in his evil, harsh language that it was 7:00am. Time to start the day. She rolled out of bed untangling the sheets from her body and walked heavy footed to the bedroom TV, a 15 year old black cased model with a screen that was getting darker and darker by the day. Ty pushed the oval “Power” button because she had long ago lost the remote and wandered bleary-eyed to her standing fan–needed for Extreme Air Movement and White Noise purposes– and turned it off with one click. Next in the daily routine was the ceiling fan–used for Downward Air Movement in conjunction with the standing fan. She turned it off and turned on the overhead light and moved toward her nightstand where she grabbed the remote to the VCR that no longer accepted tapes but still worked wonders as a means to changing the TV’s channels and allowing the 15 year old monolith to access channels above 65–needed to acquire MTV and The Weather Channel.
The bedroom appropriately set up to begin the rituals of Getting Ready, she then headed to the bathroom to begin her work there. The bathroom was a large room for such a medium-sized house. It held a long beige marble counter with two sinks carved into it set on good oak cabinets with one long mirror stretched over the sinks, and two Hollywood light strips pinned to the wall above her reflection. To the left of the counter was a large master bathroom tub made of the same beige marble. The tub was beautiful but missing the stopper and thus was currently used as a home for spiders. In true Master Bathroom style, the grand room was completed by a stall shower with glass walls and a private toilet. At some point, the toilet area had been enclosed by saloon doors–necessary for Private Moments. But the doors were so close to the toilet that even a girl of just 5’6″ would hit her knees on them. They were removed–important for Comfortable Seating. The room was papered with vivid deep green and white striped wallpaper and a floral border which were both peeling off the wall. The previous owner, in addition to removing the saloon doors which now resided in the attic, had tried to create a temporary solution for the wallpaper and border by using clear thumb tacks to pin down the peeling bits. The wallpaper would have to go soon.
Tyler had visions for this room. She saw the carpet gone (who thought it was a good idea to put carpet in a bathroom with all of the water, hairspray, make-up, and nail polish, anyway…), replaced by sleek slate tiles in shades of greens, grays and brownish oranges partially covered by a black shag rug. The brown cabinets would be painted glossy black, the brass shower frame replaced with a matte black one and the walls textured in a Venetian plaster style and painted a soft sage color. The giant commonplace mirror would be supplanted with two black-framed ones, and the Hollywood light strips with their bare lights would become two stylish deep brown, almost black, fixtures with frosted glass lampshades. And the tub! The faucet on the tub was the best part! She would replace the simple faucet with a glamorous wide mouthed faucet that released its water in perfect sheets, cascading into the tub like in the movies. It would be modern, relaxing and Zen-like.
She saw this room everyday as she continued her rituals. She pretended it already looked like this. Ty took her yellow towel off the top of the glass shower wall where it resided to dry each day, and laid it on the edge of the bath tub. Next she laid out her yellow bath mat in front of the shower door. Her yellow towel collection was now a clashing eye sore in her already mismatched bathroom. They were surprisingly cute in their former home, a generic white apartment bathroom with black and white linoleum tiles. She had decorated with brightly colored wall hangings, multicolored paper lantern Christmas lights that hung over the Garden Bathtub–needed for Amazing Showers–and a red circle bathmat by the toilet and a rectangular yellow shag rug in front of the sink. The pieces de resistance were the shower curtain hooks. They were bright goldfish with comical shark fins tied around their abdomens!
She thought back to her former bathroom and its youthful vibrancy as she looked at her grown-up life. She was an adult. At 25, she owned a 1600 square foot house, had started her own business, had no debt, flowers that bloomed without dying for at least 2 months, and two cats who depended on her. Life was good, most days.