In Love With the Past

I have this fascination with things old. Old photographs, old jewelery, old clothes...the list is endless. I've always dreamed of living in a manor like the homes read about in Pride and Prejudice and Mansfield Park. It could be a minor estate, I'm not looking for extreme grandeur, just a little bit. I can just picture myself reading a book in the rose garden and writing masterful pieces of literature in the library.

Just think of all the history and character a house like that has, all the scenes those walls have witnessed. The politely snide comments from the society ladies, the children escaping from their tutors, and the local gentry waltzing at the weekend ball. I love it.If I ever get uber rich, like ridiculously, disgustingly rich, after I pay off all my schooling, and put aside some money to take care of my family, pay tithing, and maybe buy Katie a necklace or something, I'm going to find me a house like that, or build one.

It's one of my new dreams, along with losing 80 million pounds and marrying a hottie with a rockin bod and a sense of humor. All the change that I collect in my Something Pretty jar is going to go towards this house. I mean, can you think of anything prettier?

Thoughts on Dreams and Fears

Do you ever think that we get in our own way? Like we hold part of ourselves back when we dream, so that we don't go full force and fail? Like the idea of success scares us because it is something unknown and mysterious?

I've been thinking about that lately as I have debated whether or not I need to change my major for school. As of now I have aspirations to publish novels and edit them as well.( hey, writing isn't very profitable at first, it's smart to have a day job) I love words. Always have.

I love the way ingenious authors string them together to form a sentence, and how they take those sentences and build a plot and develop characters that touch you. I love the obscure vocabulary that we don't use so often anymore( I admit that I have indeed read the dictionary, parts of it anyway)

It astounds me sometimes what a miracle writing really is. I've been an avid reader for all my life. My punishments were never no TV or no going out with friends, it was always no reading tonight. I used to take a flashlight to bed with me and read under my covers, only immerging when it got too hot and I needed fresh air.

I recently doubted that that's what I wanted to do. I was scared, I think, of trying to break into such an industry as publishing. I think me wanting to switch my major was an acceptable way of failing without really failing. I've never considered myself cowardly, and I'd prefer not to start now.

I'm ever so grateful to have a mother like mine. She thinks I'm brilliant, not in a my-kid's-smarter-than-your- kid way, but just in a she-knows-I-have-so-much-potential- and-could-set-the-writing-world-on-fire kind of way. And I'm starting to believe her. She's not lied to me before, she's told me the hard stuff I never wanted to hear, and she's praised me. I respect her opinion more than anyone else I know.

It's a scary thing basing a career on the tastes of others, but it's thrilling as well. I've thought and prayed about this, and haven't felt an urging to find another profession. I think I knew that this was the right one for me.

So I guess that this is the announcement that I'm not changing my major. I'm going to stick with what makes me happy...words

I hope you guys don't take yourselves out of the game because it's scary. Anything great is worth fighting for. So go and fight for your dreams, I'm going to.

If you're interested in some of my fave vocab, look below...

widdershins- counter clockwise
bailiwick- area of expertise
grok-comprehend
ennui- boredom

To fellow vocabulary nuts out there, Webster's Word of the Day emails are quite cool...