Name Calling

Everyone who knows me knows I'm a HUGE hockey fan.  I've been counting down the days till the start of the season, arranged my studying abroad around the season, and have reserved a section of wall in my room specifically for hockey pictures.

But when I'm watching the game - either at home or in the arena - I always hesitate before I start to cheer on a player by name.  It's stupid and silly and ridiculous, but I always feel awkward shouting "Go Teemu!" when he has the puck only because who am I to address him by his first name?  He hasn't given me leave to call him Teemu.  And if I shouted "Go Mr. Selanne!" - whether at home or in person - people would look at me like I was off my rocker or something.

Okay then, Heather, you say, what about nicknames?

Um, I get upset when people call me something other than my name unless I know them.  I don't think it would be right for me to address George Parros as Georgie or Ryan Getzlaf as Getzie without their permission.

However, I have no problem calling Cam Fowler 'Cam' because he's younger than I am.  I'm traditional to the point of nausea, right?

I know, I know: I'm overthinking it and I should just call them by name.  And I do.  But I always hesitate because I don't like being presumptuous about something like that since it's basic etiquette.

Though, even I will admit that there are exceptions to every rule.

Getting Over Boys

I'm not a rebound kind of girl.

Well, after a relationship ends, I like when guys stare at me because it boosts my waning self-confidence.  And yes, flirting is nice.  But I don't throw myself into the arms of Random Boy #1 in order to get over an ex.  Because to me, that's an impossible feat.  Rebounds, to me, are replacements.  And when it comes to my exes, they're irreplaceable.  Even the bad ones.

I can't be with another guy because I'll be looking for my most recent ex in them and will be disappointed when I don't find what I'm looking for.  The thing is, they'll never be him.

And that's okay.

The way I get over an ex is to throw myself into something completely unrelated.  With this past relationship, I listened to Hilary Duff's "Holiday" about a hundred times and avoided any songs that might bring me to tears.  I also refused to watch sappy romantic comedies because even though I know they're unrealistic, even I - the very optimistic but not very romantic girl - wanted to be what every heroine in those rom-coms is: the exception. 

Because Goatboy was my exception.  And in my naivety, I thought, You know, maybe it's not crazy to think that I'm his exception too. 

Except life doesn't work that way.  As tortuous as it is, just because he's mine doesn't mean I'm his.  And I didn't want sappy movies to remind me of that.

I refused to write poems, and when I thought enough time had passed where it was safe to, I still cried writing them.  I'm tearing up a bit, writing this.

And let me tell you, I am not a sap.  Far from it.  I can always tell when something is genuine in romantic comedies, and when something is just way too cheesy.  And when it's cheesy, I can't help but laugh.  While all the other women in the theatre are 'awing' and sniffling, I'm laughing.  And I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I cannot help it.

But I think that's what makes me happy in this moment, right now.  I'm hopeful.  For the future.  For my love life.  Because even though Goatboy was (and is, and probably will always be, as first loves usually are) my exception, there will be others.  And finding the one that sees you as his or her exception as well?  Well, that's fate, isn't it?

I'm sure I won't find my One right now.  Probably because I'm not quite over my previous relationship.  Not yet, anyways.  And I refuse to get into a relationship until I'm over the previous one.  But with each passing day, a little bit of the pain fades.  And a little piece of me grows back.  Granted, he'll always have his piece of me and I'll forever love him.  But my heart fills that gap with lessons I've learned, an updated version of what I want and don't want in a relationship, and a small, silver scar that will remind me of him.

As if I could forget.

And while I feel myself fully letting go of what was, I yearn for what will be.

And that happiness comes from what is now.

No, I don't do the whole rebound thing. 

But I watch television shows with genuine guys I adore.  With Number 24 way back last year, what got me over him was watching the first season of True Blood.  And I saw how genuine Bill was, and how much he loved Sookie, and I realized that it was good riddance with Number 24.  I wanted a guy like Bill.  (Granted, this was season one.  I have been Team Eric for a while now, thank you very much.)

And while I didn't find Bill in Goatboy, I found what I was looking for in that moment, and I didn't even realize it until we started dating.

And now, the thing getting me over Goatboy isn't Finn from Glee or Parker from Drop Dead Diva as I expected, but rather Professor Snape.  From Harry Potter.  No.  I'm not kidding.  It's probably the slew of talented authors over on Fanfiction.net that capture his character, make him such a well-rounded character that you'd be crazy not to fall in love with him. 

Goatboy was everything I needed in those nine months we spent together, but now, I'm hoping for someone like Professor Snape.  In all honesty, I probably won't find someone like the Potions Master.  But I trust the universe to give me exactly what I need when I need it even (especially) if I, myself, don't know just what that is.

But hopefully, the universe will throw in that silky, seductive Alan Rickman voice when choosing my next romantic entanglement as icing on the cake.

Tarot Cards and other hobbies

I used to think that writing was my hobby.  But I'm hoping to turn it into my career.

So what do I do about hobbies?  While listening to music, going to movies, dancing, working out, and hanging out with friends may seem like hobbies, I believe they're more related to our desire as humans to socialize and communicate.

A hobby is something we do to occupy time, something we like but don't necessarily need to make money off of but still makes us happy nonetheless.

I used to think writing was my hobby.  But really, it's a passion.  I have to write.  I don't have a choice in the matter.

But my hobby?  I like to read tarot cards.  Some people believe in them, others think they're tools to communicate with the devil.  Many people are placed down the middle in this particular spectrum.  Personally, I do believe what they have to say but I also realize that the future isn't set in stone, and that I'm able to change it.

Which makes tarot cards so cool.  They offer guidance and help, explain karmic lessons you might need to learn, or reassure you that while it's bleak and hard now, it'll get better soon.  They tell you things, whether you want to hear them or not, and explain how to overcome the difficulty, or that someone's talking bad about you, or bad news is coming.

But they also reassure you in that you can always turn a bad card over.  Really, your destiny is up to you.

I like their symbology, learning about what they mean and how to interpret them in different situations.  But more than anything, I like that I can go them at any time, night or day, and they'll help me out. 

Which says a lot more than many other hobbies out there.

Saturday's Breakdown

What I'm reading: Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot and The Girl in the Steel Corset by Kady Cross
What I'm Listening To:  Bad Meets Evil and Angels & Airwaves
What I'm Watching: Married... with Children Season 8 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing: As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - just started Chapter 22 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now: Working out

Letting Go and Starting Over

I've had one hell of a time these past few months.

In April, Goatboy and I decided that it would probably be best if we stopped seeing each other.  Totally mutual and we said we'd still be friends.  (You know, after we get over each other, because it's hard to care about your friend romantically.)  At around the same time, my best friend in the world and I started growing apart.  I don't know why but I promised that this year, I'd start standing up for myself.  And perhaps that's one of the reasons she started to pull away and align herself with someone else. 

It doesn't matter though.

I've always believed that the little things matter more than the big things.  Whether it comes to guys or friends, sometimes it's best - no matter how hard it is - to let them go.  Maybe the timing is wrong and you'll meet back up in the future where it'll be better to be friends or lovers (both?).  Maybe this is the only time you'll encounter them but your life will never be the same because of them.  Maybe you're the lesson they need to learn (I HATE that!).

Whatever they are to you, sometimes it's best to let them go.

And it's hard.  Trust me.  Breaking up with your boyfriend and best friend around the same time is one of the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with.  But I've learned that I will accept nothing less than what I deserve, whether from a guy or from friends.  It's made me feel more mature, more adult (eek!), and I like myself.  I'm proud of myself.  I admire myself.

And that's how I know that it's the right thing.

What gets me through it are two different quotes: God never gives you more than you can handle and If you love something, set it free; if it comes back to you, it was meant to be and if it doesn't, it was never really yours in the first place.

And this has also made me appreciate those people that are practically permanent fixtures in my life: my mother, my brother, and my friend Mrs. Wolverine (because she's super in love with Hugh Jackman, but then again, who isn't?).

More than that, letting go of things - shedding my cocoon so to speak - makes me excited to start over.  I start at a new school in late September.  I'm going to Comic Con.  My friend from Germany is coming to stay with me for a week.  I'm going to Disneyland.  I'm going to the fair.  Hockey season starts.

But I have to get through these next couple of weeks.

It's going to be hard.  Little things will remind me of both of them and then I'll miss them and wish they were still in my life.  But if they wanted to be here, they'd find a way to be here.  And if they don't, they're not worth it.  And because I've realized personally how short life is, I know I should only interact with people who deserve to be in my life.  Anything else is a waste of time.

Life shouldn't be about suffering.  Yes, there will be pain and hardship.  But it's about dancing in the rain.  And everyone knows how much I love doing that.  :)

And what I'm going through now will make me the beautiful butterfly I'm destined to be. 

So bring on the pain and tears and suffering.  I'm a strong girl - stronger than I give myself credit for.  I'll survive.  I always do.

Saturday's Breakdown

What I'm reading: Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot and Wanted by Sara Shepard
What I'm Listening To:  old school Britney Spears and Avril Lavigne
What I'm Watching: Bones Season 5 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing: As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - halfway through Chapter 18 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now: Comic Con!

Being Authentic

Yesterday, I found out, thanks to a loyal reader, that I was a victim of plagiarism.

I scoffed at the idea that somebody would want to plagiarize me.  Me!  Not that I didn't think such a thing could happen to me - because I was definitely aware of it, no doubt - but because I just couldn't fathom why someone would want to plagiarize my stuff.  I feel like if my stories were books, they'd be quick, fun beach reads.  Most of them, anyways.  Great when you want something light, but not plagiarism-worthy.

I followed the link my reader sent me and found out that this woman not only plagiarized one story, but three.  Three!  And they were all mine.

I felt... violated.  I'm not going to lie; I felt like she stole three of my children and claimed they were hers.  (Maybe a little overdramatic, but whatever.)  Everything was exactly how I had written it - down to the title and the summary!  Had she no shame?  Didn't she know there was a possibility she'd be caught?

And what kills me is that she was getting reviews, reads, and votes.  I'm not jealous that she was stealing my work, per se, but I was pissed that people she believed she wrote these stories.  Stories I wrote at five in the morning because I just didn't have the time for it.  Stories I outlined and created and wrote in my voice.  My stories were labeled as hers.

I hated it.

Which surprised me because I didn't think I'd have such a strong reaction to it, even when confronted by the blatancy of her lazy actions.

I realized that these are my stories, my babies, which means they're a part of me.  If anyone tries to claim them as theirs, I feel suffocated and angry because they're claiming me as them.  And I'm not.  I'm only me.  (Geez, I hope this is making sense...)

And that's how I know I'll never plagiarize.  (I always knew this, of course.  Sophomore year of high school I got my first and last D in a science class because it was so hard everyone - even the good kids - had to cheat in order to get a decent grade.  But not me.)  Because everything I do or write has some part of my instilled in it.  I could never claim something that isn't mine because it has no piece of me in it. 

Obviously that means I'll have to work harder but that's okay.  It's worth it.  At least, to me.

So, what happened to my plagiarizer?  I left a comment on her author's page introducing myself, telling her she has 24 hours to remove my stories or I'll go directly to the site and inform them of her blatant plagiarism and constantly write on her author's page telling her readers or whoever decided to check her out that she plagiarized my stuff.  A few hours later, the entire author's page didn't exist.

Which left me relieved.

I probably won't ever take my stories down (unless I'm hoping to publish them, of course).  There's a good chance that I'll be plagiarized again, and when the time comes, I'll handle it.

But I'm a writer.  And when you're a writer, there's a good chance someone is going to copy your work.  But those plagiarizers?  They're not writers.  They're just lazy and want some instant gratification.  And remember: the highest form of flattery is imitation.  Even when it's verbatim.  

Nerves and Settling Them

I am incredibly nervous.

Today, I sent out two query letters to prospective agents for the novel I hope to get published.  It's different than before (when I was 18, I sent out query letters for a story THE DEAD MAN'S TALE and last year, I did the same with SWIMMING IN RAIN) because I've thoroughly edited my novel and I wrote it in a month - it means so much to me because it deals with something incredibly important to me: hockey.

This is personal.

Which is why I'm nervous sending it out in the business aspect of the publishing world.  Because while it might be personal to me, it's business for them.  If they reject my story, they reject me.

But I'm growing thick skin.  I know I'll need it, especially if I want to be a writer, a published one on that.

So, with my grandfather's hat on my head and the blanket I've had since I was born in my lap - my own form of a subtle alcoholic beverage used solely to calm my nerves - I sent out those two letters.  Something might come from it.  Nothing might come from it.  But no matter what, I'm a writer.  And someday, I'll be a published one.

Saturday's Breakdown

What I'm reading: Size 12 is Not Fat by Meg Cabot and The Complete Public Enemy Almanac by William J. Helmer and Rick Mattix
What I'm Listening To:  Selena Gomez's new CD, Maroon 5, Miranda Lambert
What I'm Watching:  Bones Season 3 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing:  As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - started Chapter 15 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now:  NHL Draft/Free Agency (Brad Richards signing with the Rangers - at least it wasn't with the Kings!)

Life's Collisions

Have you ever learned something in one aspect of your life, only to apply it to another aspect of your life?

For example, when I was in fourth grade, I learned how to play the clarinet and how to read music.  I found that piano music is roughly the same - at least the melody - and since I knew where the main C was located, I transferred my clarinet notes to the piano subsequently teaching myself to play the piano.  (With one hand, but still.)

Today, I went to watch prospective Ducks play a scrimmage against each other.  Granted, these kids (I say kids because I was older than the majority of them - and I'm only 21 years old!) aren't professional (yet) and it was a scrimmage (part of a training camp). 

They were good, for the most part.  I like to watch the goalies personally.  Of course, there was a lack of tension because prospective Ducks were playing against other prospective Ducks so everybody wins, and since they started 25 minutes late, I was worried about possibly getting a ticket because of my parking time limit.

But there were a couple of things that happened that I just cringed at.  Even I know you don't do stuff like this. 

Granted, I never played hockey in my life.  I've probably been ice skating only a handful of times.  But I played soccer for 7 years when I was a kid, on an All Star team and then to an APP team with the option to join club soccer.  And I was a defender the majority of time (sweeper, to be exact).  I can take what I know from soccer and prescribe it to hockey. 

Like never, ever cross to your teammate in front of your goal.  It's just too dangerous.  You never know if someone will make a breakaway, intercept the pass, and score a goal.

Or don't reach for the puck with your stick.  Get your body behind it.

And for the love of God, don't block the goalie's view of the puck!

But the scrimmage was enjoyable.  I always find it fascinating to watch people play hockey - it's the fastest sport on the planet, and it's cool to know that I'll have watched soon-to-be Ducks when they just started out.

I'm not on the ice so I don't know what it's like.  It's completely different when you're there, on the ice, playing the sport.  But maybe they could participate in a soccer camp.  Just for fun.