Inktober 2019 - Day 3

Well, today was a little mortifying. I wasn't feeling quite so hot at work, so they allowed me to go home two hours early, and one of the bosses drove me in her own car. I wasn't that bad but it's just one of those days where you're far from top-notch.

Here's hoping a good night's sleep will do me some good and I can be back to my old self when I go back to work. At least everyone was sympathetic; they could even tell something was wrong with me, since I wasn't working as diligently, I slipped away at least five times just to use the restroom (though I made sure not to leave any customers at the register), and I wasn't making any wisecracks. When Mel Mather's not joking, you know something's up, Doc!

So, anyway, here we are, day three of "Inktober," which is: Bait. Fresh worm, fresh on the hook!

For "Fantasytober" 3: Unicorn Casting a Spell. I thought the cape would lend just a bit of originality.

No name for this character, no idea whether I'll use her for anything again.

Inktober 2019 - Day 2

Not much to say about today, other than take two for "Inktober!"

Day 2: Mindless. Ever have one of those days in which your body is someplace, but your mind is totally someplace else?

Day 2 of "Fantasytober": A Dancing Skeleton. Good thing this is a cartoon, so I can get away with complete massacre of the human anatomy! I also listened to Count von Count's "Bones" from Sesame Street to set the mood...and let me tell ya, that skeleton's laugh scared the crap outta me as a kid! Still gives me the shivers now, as well as Humpty Dumpty and Snow White's Face in the Mirror. Where does S.S. get that stuff?

Inktober 2019 - Day 1

And so "Inktober" begins once again.

It's only going to be two challenges this time. They're not doing the "Disney" challenge this year (they'll just do a contest instead), and maybe it's just as well; three drawings per day for 31 days straight is a bit much, even for me.

So, here's entry #1 for the original "Inktober": Ring. Nobody said it had to be a ring for your finger, and not bad for three attempts in a row, if I do say so myself.

And entry #1 for my own "Fantasytober": Anthropomorphic Black Cat. I'd love to own a black cat again someday, and I already have a name picked out: Boo-Boo Two.

Fun fact: In some places, it's illegal to adopt a black cat around the Halloween holiday. Because, sadly, some people only use that black cat for a living decoration, and then they drop it. 

I even read a funny story a while back about a woman who actually wondered what another woman did with her two black cats after Halloween was over; it didn't seem to occur to this ridiculous woman that the black cats were official, permanent members of the family.

My 9/11 Tributes

I usually make a photo-manipulation to commemorate September 11, and I thought I'd post all the tributes I've done thus far.

You can sense the refinement with each collage, can't you?

But it's the sentimentality behind every picture that counts more than anything else.

18 Years Later

So, here we are with another anniversary, and not the kind that we remember fondly. 

Since everybody on social media is sharing their "Where were you on 9/11" stories right now, here's mine. I may not remember most of the details anymore, but I remember clearly where I was when I first heard the news, and how much it affected me. Like the saying goes, you may forget words and even actions, but the memory of personal feelings is forever.

I was 13 years old, in my second year of junior high school (North Layton Junior High). It began like any other day, with my dad chauffeuring me to school. Dad always drove me to school because he could take the car straight to work afterwards. (He put me in the driver's seat a couple of years later, when I hit high school and got my learner's permit. Regretfully, I still don't have my official license, but that's another story.) He often had the radio on during our little ride, and he preferred to listen to the news while I liked music better.

So it was through the car radio that I first got wind of the fact of four plane crashes in the same day. The reporter's voice was very shaky, like he was trying very hard not to cry. Being as young as I was, I was definitely startled to hear such news but I tried not to dwell on it too much.

When I got to school, everybody was talking about those plane crashes, everywhere I went; I got a bit annoyed at first, until my teachers began to talk about it in every single class. That was my first cue to pay a little more attention to the story.

Everybody was subdued that day, including my stricter teachers, and classwork was very light, light enough to where we had no homework that day. Of course, I was excited at the prospect of no homework, as any kid would be. But when I went into the school library for something, I caught footage of the Twin Towers on a TV, and that was my second cue that this was far more serious than I'd thought.

Finally, I got home, and Mom was already downstairs with our TV on. (This was back when we had a working television, with cable.) You guessed it: she was watching the news, and the story of the four plane crashes was the sole topic on every station. Every single one.

That's when I saw and heard it all for myself: the planes hitting the Towers, the fiery explosion and colossal pillars of smoke, the wailing sirens, the Towers collapsing all the way to the ground, the people screaming and running away, the grim aftermath of the Towers and the Pentagon, words from President Bush and the Church President Gordon B. Hinckley, and even some footage of Pearl Harbor because, as they said, Pearl Harbor was the last time something of this magnitude struck our country. Just like Pearl Harbor, this was "a day that will live in infamy."

And that's when the full seriousness of the situation hit me, with full force. That's when I felt the shock, the horror, the terror, and the heartbreak, each emotion paralyzing in its own way. That's when I broke down and cried.

Now, 18 years later, I still have a hard time stomaching that footage. I'm very fortunate that none of my family or friends were among the casualties, but I can't begin to imagine losing someone that way, or dying that way. The worst part of it all is that this was no accident; someone was depraved enough to actually make this happen. On the other hand, it's deeply moving to see how much love and support came out of this tragedy, not just from our country, but from all sorts of countries outside.

How ironic it is that only in the worst of times does the best in people come to full light. And how sad it is that our country is so divided such a short time later: divided on religion, divided on politics, divided on race, divided on gender, divided on just about everything. We have differences between us for a reason, but it should not have to take something this tragic to make us realize those differences make no real difference in the grand scheme of things.

All my love and best wishes to everyone affected by 9/11 in any capacity. My deepest respects to the heroes of 9/11 and their heroic offspring. I find it very touching that the children of fallen FDNY officers are now taking their places on the force. What better tribute to such a parent?

And in the immortal words of that sacred song, God bless the USA.

Where were you when the world stopped turning
On that September day?
Were you in the yard

With your wife and children,
Or working on some stage in L.A.?

Did you stand there in shock
At the sight of that black smoke
Rising against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger,
In fear for your neighbor,
Or did you just sit down and cry?

Did you weep for the children

Who lost their dear loved ones
Pray for the ones who don't know?
Did you rejoice for the people

Who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below?

Did you burst out with pride
For the red, white and blue,
And the heroes who died
Just doing what they do?
Did you look up to heaven

For some kind of answer,
And look at yourself
And what really matters?

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN, but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love

Where were you when the world stopped turning
On that September day?
Teaching a class

Full of innocent children,
Or driving down some cold interstate?

Did you feel guilty
'Cause you're a survivor?
In a crowded room,

Did you feel alone?
Did you call up your mother
And tell her you loved her?
Did you dust off that Bible at home?

Did you open your eyes,
Hope it never happened?
Close your eyes and not go to sleep?
Did you notice the sunset
For the first time in ages,
Or speak to some stranger on the street?

Did you lay down at night

And think of tomorrow?
Go out and buy you a gun?
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns?

Did you go to a church

And hold hands with some strangers?
Stand in line and give your own blood?
Did you just stay home

And cling tight to your family,
Thank God you had somebody to love?

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN, but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN, but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love

And the greatest is love...
And the greatest is love...

Where were you when the world stopped turning
On that September day?

~ Alan Jackson

New Month, New Start

Not much to say on this blog, other than goodbye to August and summer, and hello to September and autumn.

I don't dislike summer, but I'm more than ready for this particular summer to be over. I need a fresh start. I know September won't be perfect but there's just something reassuring about the beginning of a brand-new month and season, you know?

See you in September, mates.

My Date

It's about time I posted something happy. Tonight, I got a much-needed escape from a tough summer.

That's not to say this summer has been all bad, but yeah.

I reconnected with an old high school friend, Isaac. He was mostly home-schooled but we did have seminary together, and I remember he was one of the few boys (very few) who were actually nice to me. Even now, he's a pretty sweet guy, and it turns out he has been married before but now he's divorced, with a young son of his own. I later learned that the boy's name is Alexander, and that he's four years old, between the ages of my nephews Spencer and Lucas.

Earlier this month, pretty much out of the blue, Isaac called me and asked if I'd like to go on a date with him. I didn't see anything wrong with having dinner, so we planned for a dinner date.

The plan was for Friday (yesterday), but due to Isaac's work (he has a job in construction), it got pushed to tonight. We aimed for 6:00 at first, and then we had to push it to 7:00. That was fine with me; I'm perfectly flexible, and even if the whole thing was called off, all I care about is that the guy keeps me informed.

It was a simple date, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

 

We had our dinner at Olive Garden, one of my all-time favorite restaurants. 

 

 

I even had an old gift card in my wallet that was still good to use, and Isaac and I ended up paying together even though he insisted on covering everything. I teased him, "The least I can do is not milk you for all you're worth!"

 

My dinner was spaghetti with marinara sauce (of course), but I had a fine time deciding what kind of meat I wanted: meatballs, Italian sausage, chicken, or shrimp. I eventually settled for shrimp because that's a little more of a luxury for me; seafood isn't cheap and my mom never liked seafood, so I don't have shrimp as often. Then I had a side salad and a raspberry lemonade, and later I felt good enough to order dessert (a sort of cheesecake brownie), though I eventually caved and asked for a take-out box for my dessert.

I love to eat. I even saved as much of my appetite as I could, eating a very light lunch after work and everything. Even so, my stomach only has so much capacity!

Our server was really nice, too. We left her a nice tip along with a written compliment, and I made her pass on a compliment to the chefs.

Naturally, Isaac and I had plenty to talk about. Mostly we talked about what we've been up to nowadays, and we took our time to eat while we chatted. We ended up staying for at least two hours, which was fine by me. He expressed a little regret that we couldn't do more this evening; he offered a movie or ice cream, but I told him this dinner was good enough for me, food-wise and money-wise.

As far as dates go, I'd say this one was just right. The way a date should go, in my book: not too long, not too short, something fun but without much fuss, something nice but not overly expensive, away from home but still close by.

The best part, as I mentioned earlier, was that it provided a nice little getaway. I got a very much-needed breather.

I could sense Isaac probably had a little romance in mind; he's probably trying again after his divorce, and it's clear he's still trying to get back on his feet. But he didn't push anything, and I didn't force anything either way. I made sure to thank him (more than once) and he even thanked me, so I joked, "We're both welcome!"

I even got some good-natured teasing at work. I kind of let slip that I had a date, and my coworkers and boss were all, "Ooooh, Melanie's got a date! Be sure to tell us all about it!" 

 

One of them said she would come to the restaurant to "check on me," and I got her back by saying, "Well, I haven't said which Olive Garden we're going to!" Her reaction was sidesplitting.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have butterflies in my stomach, even now.

Even on a platonic level, I almost never get asked out. I never considered myself a hit with boys, although some of my high school pals were guys and I still keep in touch with a few of them, like Paul and Trent. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find someone who will like me enough to marry me.

Well, one way or another, tonight was just what I needed.

This will be a memory well worth keeping.