Ohh Jasmine 04.22.13

This entry is pointless.

I changed my blog name and URL from "An Unconventional Princess" to "Ohh Jasmine". It seemed fitting for a completely random reason. My friend Elizabeth V. at work is always saying that to me as well as my roommates whenever I do something particularly amusing or off the wall so I thought it was apropos in regards to who I am.

I don't really have much to say. I'm sort of at a block with my writing. I've recently joined a leadership eGroup at church and I'm supposed to be writing a 3-4 page letter to myself that I'll open in a year. It's our homework assignment and it's due on Wednesday. I haven't started on the thing. I haven't even taken the special wrapping out of its plastic. I'm procrastinating. A part of me is trying to wait and think of something creative, witty, and insightful to tell my future self about my present (well would be past) self, but I'm coming up short. Then another part of me wants to type up the letter an just staple it to the pages. I feel like being a smidgen rebellious. Idk. The thing will get written. Just in about 2 more days, an hour before it's due.

I'm also supposed to be working on my short story that's due for the April writing contest in my fictionpress forum Labyrinth  Well, it's not my forum, I'm just a member. The thing is I had the perfect introduction mapped out in my head 2 weeks ago when I was taking a shower. Only, I was in the shower. And by the time I got back to my room I couldn't remember what I had said nor did I try to flesh it out and sit down and type it out. Needless to say I lost all that clever wording. I'm starting to think I need to be one of those writers who carries around a tape recorder. It'll keep me from losing my work. The 2,000 word short is due April 25th. I've got until 11:50 to send it to Fyloe Fox.

I entered the March competition (my first time doing so) and tied for 2nd place with 2 votes. I consider that huge. I was expecting the winner okunoin to take all the votes with his weirdly unnerving yet beautiful story. He took over half of the reported 11 votes, but I was still surprised I got any. It just shows me that people do appreciate my work.

Oh well. Just like with my letter to myself, It'll get done. Just probably on Thursday afternoon. I wrote the March entry the day it was due. I can make it happen.

I work well under pressure.

If technology were a physical being, we'd be fighting right now.

It's the weekend. Sacred time; time I look forward to because I can spend long uninterrupted hours doing what I love to do, something I'm passionate for... writing.

Only, when I pull out my trusty jump drive and prepare to open the latest novel I've been working on, it halts mid open and gives me the most awful shock of my life. The document can't be opened because there's a problem with the file. I.e., it's corrupted.

Ok -- Anyone who knows me really well knows that writing is my passion. Aside from teaching, it's what brings me joy and happiness. I have hopes and dreams and aspirations of becoming a NY times best selling author. I want my novels to be translated into several different languages and sold around the world. I want to fill up the shelves of bookstores with pieces of my fiction, and that way, even long after I'm dead, I can still give avid readers a place to escape to within the pages of my written work.

But no -- not tonight. Tonight the technology demon has reared it's ugly head and somewhere between April 23rd, the last time I worked on my book, and today, the file got corrupted and no matter what I did to try to recover it; it's gone. 245 pages of the inner workings of my mind, 333 total hours of writing and editing. The thing is, I've been working on this particular book since February 3rd and I'm pretty darn proud of it. I even had the last few chapters mapped out and I was ready to bring the book to a close.

But no -- not tonight. Tonight I got to stare at that little dialog box (I hate that dialog box) as it told me that my book was lost to me forever.

I don't know what to do. When you save things on jump drives, you expect them to be ok. I suppose I'll have to by a new one because this is the second time this has happened to me with this particular USB. The first time was in the summer. I lost a story I was working on, but it was only a short and I'd been on it for a week. In no way is it comparable to losing the running 80,000+ words I lost just now.

I quite frankly don't know what to do. Luckily I had a partial back up; saved from I don't know when. But it's about 10,000+ words short of where I currently was.

I'm at a fork in the road. I can just chuck this up to "It Wasn't Meant to Be" or I can submit myself to trying to recreate part of the novel that I wrote weeks ago.

Shock. Anger. Number. Disbelief. Regret. Those are just a few words to describe how I'm feeling right now.

Shock -- my heart sank when that message popped up on screen

Anger -- are you fucking kidding me? My book is gone!

Numb -- my book is gone...


Disbelief -- I can't believe this is seriously happening again

Regret -- damn it, why didn't I save it in a third location, or email it to myself, or put it in drop box. A whole lot of shoulda, coulda, woulda's....


It's safe to say I won't be writing tonight.
@JustJazzyD

A Poem: .Touch.

Also written the summer of '05. I was very angry when I was 17 and very lovesick. A lot of the things I wrote echoed that sentiment. Oh well, this is the last post and then I'm hitting up my leftover spaghetti casserole.

. Touch .
06.14.05

Simple, complex

full of passion and love

full of uncertainty

It means nothing 

to you

to me

it is everything

your kiss, your touch, your love

It gives me pain and sorry

a broken heart

it shatters my will to live

it picks me up when I am down

it makes me feel secure

A touch of love

          fire

A touch of hate

          intense

from you

given to me

I freely accept it

I lustfully long for it

I secretly despise it

© Jasmine S. Davis 2011

A Poem: #12

And because I'm in the an incredibly good mood, I've decided to post another poem. I also got of my lazy behind and grabbed my poem book. I wrote this poem the summer of 2005. Let's see, I was 17? I think. 2011-2005, take 6 years off 23....yeah I was 17. Seems like forever ago. Anyway, whenever I couldn't think of a title for a poem I just gave it a random number. So here it is:

# 12

06.15.05

Two holes

blank

tinted with color

black, blue, green, gray, brown

Windows, foggy

portals into the mind

paths into the body

passageways into the soul

Mirrors

Reflectors of images; emotions

fear, anxiety, happiness, joy,

frustration, anger

shift---Now searching

downcast---Now hiding

blank---Now expressionless

direct---Bold.

© Jasmine S. Davis 2011

A Poem: Words.

I said to myself about 3 weeks ago, when I stumbled upon a book of poetry I had packed up when I moved that I was going to publish them here on the blog and that was going to be my April thing. Well, that didn't happen. I got lazy and sat in front of my TV instead of at my computer. But I'm here now, fueled by the flames of my latest creative wind. I've been writing non-stop for the last four days on my latest novel endeavor. A sequel to the book I started around Christmas. I feel so good about it. I feel so good about writing. I've encouraged myself that this is what I truly want to be doing. Sharing my imagination with the rest of the world. But for me, the easy part is having an awesome idea, and starting the book or the short story or the whatever. The hard part is actually finishing it. I read some article that said that was a common norm amongst Aries. I refuse to let myself fall into that category.

So, when I came home from work today, I had every intention of going to my book. I'd been thinking of new plot twists all day at work. But what did I do when I came home? I pulled out my laptop, I got my jump drive, and when I prepared to write, I didn't go to my book. I got bit by a different strain of the creativity bug and I did something I rarely do because it's so hard for me. I sat down a wrote a poem. In about 10 minutes mind you. I've never been more proud of myself. To start and finish something from my creative/artistic/literal side, that's a major accomplishment. And now I'm going to share. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you....

Words.

Some people will never amount to much,

Constantly sputtering excuses they use as their crutch

Tales and woes, wishes of things to be better

Viewing life as a negative, always and ever

But that’s not me,

Oh no, no sir, no ma’am

I refuse to life my life failing to achieve my master plan

I envision a future, bright and free

Where I can do my own thing and not worry about the green

A life full of peace, happiness and love,

A grand horizon I seek to reach up above

So many things I want to be

All facets and aspects and pieces of me

                A teacher, a healer, a  friend, a writer

                A mother, an Activist, a peacemaker, a fighter

                                                                      Amongst countless other dreams…

You see,

A life of complacency would be like darkness

Perpetual, never-ending and bleak.

Just thinking about that makes me want to shriek.

I could never allow myself to be so content

Passing the time pondering what to lament

Words are a gift, an expression of character,

Not disjointed things to fill a page

No,

                You are the messenger.

Use them.           Create.

Speak words of praise, criticism, dreams and vitality

Ingrain them within your soul,

Feed your spirit.

                Dare to accomplish it.

Then when you happen upon those who won’t amount to much,

And they begin to lament and feel the need to explain their crutch,

Smile,

For you will never be as such.

© Jasmine S. Davis 2011

I AM Poem

My kids wrote I AM poems this week and I was taken aback at how some of these rowdy 7 and 8 year olds could achieve so much depth. A few talked about their futures and had some creative imaginations. This inspired me to go through all my junk I'd saved from college and find the I AM Poem I had to write as a requirement in one of my college Language Arts classes. I felt compelled to post it here. I'm going to to read it to them on Monday so they can see that I also enjoy writing and the many assignments I give them in class have more merit than just busywork. Please enjoy.

I AM

by Jasmine Davis

written 9.29.09 

I am creative and strong-willed

I wonder when I’ll get married

I hear the laughter of my deceased Grandmother

I see her smiling face in my mind’s eye

I want to be a famous author

I am creative and strong-willed

I pretend I am a reality TV show celebrity

I feel like I have magical powers

I touch bleak clouds as I drive through Black Mountain

I worry that I won’t fulfill my hearts desires

I cry when people forget to love

I am creative and strong-willed

I understand it takes hard work to achieve your goals

I say that I will be on Oprah and the NY Times Bestselling list

I dream that one day all my wishes will come true

I try to be a little nicer here and there

I hope that people follow their dreams

I am creative and strong-willed 

Self-diagnosed Prescription

I think that I am going to start a new blog. It's been on my mind for a while now, and I think that I am ready to take that jump. The second blog will be devoted solely to my writing and getting my name out there. It will feature snippets and sometimes full chapters of the books I'm working on. It will also highlight any ideas I have for upcoming works. I have told many people throughout the years that I have aspirations of becoming a New York Times Best-selling author, it's time I started working to achieve that goal.

This blog (An Unconventional Princess) will keep serving the purpose of my online "diary" in a sense. Most posts have chronicled different battles or triumphs I've had in my life. Writing is sort of like my own personal prescription for my well-being. I used to keep a diary in high school and it helped me relieve my emotions when I had no one to talk to. By writing all my thoughts and life experiences down on here, hopefully it'll serve many purposes: give people something to to ponder on, relate to or laugh at; help me deal with situations in my life; and thirdly, give me something to go back and look on many years from now to see how I've grown. So, I'm going to take a leap of faith. I'm starting a new blog dedicated solely to my aspirations/dream of becoming a writer. Now all I have to do is think of a blog title....

20-NYE-11: "Good-bye Grandpa!"

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I only posted 16 times on this blog in 2010 and that's a shame. My goal is to write more this year. I started a new book December 31st and have already written 60 pages in word, single spaced mind you. So I'm focused. Hopefully by summer I'll have it and the sequel completed and I can use my free time from work to see about getting that thing published. So to keep in the spirit of writing, I'm going to get back into blogging.

NEW YEARS EVE was the BEST night of my life ALL Winter! OMG! I went out with 3 of my sorors to the Suite lounge in Charlotte. After I got over the shock of paying $50 to get into the club, we got dolled up and hit the bar and the dance floor. I danced with so many guys of so many races and it was a SPECTACULAR experience. I even had this dude buy me a drink and offer to buy more. But when I had his drink, that was #4 for me and I was stopping. Last time I got drunk was WCU homecoming in October and I was ridiculous. I didn't want to be ridiculous out in public on New Year's Eve. But anyway, this guy buys me a drink and then lets me keep the change from the drink. $4.00. Hey that's a meal from Wendy's. So after that, I decided to flirt a little bit. He deserved it for adding to my alcohol intake and my wallet. He was really cute too, which was an added bonus and had beautiful straight teeth. But as the night progressed and our flirting, a few warning signs were thrown up and then the bomb went off and I had to cut him off.

1. he came to the lounge alone
2. he spent most of his time at the bar
3. when he did wander away from the bar he was kind of stalkerish looking at women
4. he got way too fresh when he was dancing with me ( I won't elaborate)
5. dude got way too drunk
and finally 6. he got all defensive when I asked him how old he was

"Why do you want to know how old I am?" I thought it was a logical question. I mean I saw potential in giving him my number and getting to know him outside of the club. Aside from the warning signs he was really a nice guy. Well how old was this attractive big spender? "I'm 36," was his reply to my question.

WHAT?! 36. Dude, that means you are technically old enough to be my father if you impregnated my mom when you were 14. EEEWWWWWWW.

Good-bye grand-pa. Dude was cut off!

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Power Outage

I haven't written in a while and I was reminded of that today when I got a phone call from one of my good friends who said she enjoyed reading this. It helped her keep up with the news in my life since we were so far apart. That gives me new resolve to write.

So I was inspired today for a new piece of fiction. The power went out today because of a thunderstorm. It happens pretty frequently and generally comes back on again within a half hour. Today's outage time was about 2 hours. But what surprised me is that almost all of Newton's power was out. No grocery store, not CVS, no stoplights, no AC in the house. The power was out. But what surprised me during all of this was having to drive through a major 4 way intersection and people actually stopped, even though they might have had the right of way to let a few cars pass so that people who are not aggressive drivers could get to their destination. I was amazed. There still are kind people in this world.

Having the power out took me back to memories of summer camp last year. It was hot. There were no lights, no fans blowing and no AC. There were no sounds of TV commercials or gunshots on video games. It was quiet. Rather serene. It made me stop and think about live back in "olden" times when there was no electricity and plumbing. They survived it everyday while after 5 minutes of no AC and fan, I was complaining. It gave me inspiration to write a story about a the world 100s of years from now suffering from a statewide power outage. Who would survive and who wouldn't? What dirty traits would being without the usual comforts of life bring out of people. It's an interesting thought and we'll see how it goes. I'll have to log it into my idea book.