Looking Back, Moving Forward: A Year In Review + Fourth Annual No-Kiss Blogfest

#DailyWings: "May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art--write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself." 
-Neil Gaiman

One of my main new year's resolutions from 2012 was to meditate every day for a certain amount of time either somewhere on campus or at home, and I'm excited to say that, for the most part, I succeeded. There's nothing better than lying on the grass in the campus arboretum, your vision cloaked by an entire blanket of blue sky, and letting your mind wander. 

There are two ways for me to engage in meditation -- one in which I try to rid my mind of all thoughts and cognition, and only allow sensations and feelings to take over the present moment. The other way is to simply not fight any of the thoughts that come to mind, but rather let them come as they "flow." Both are helpful for me when I want to re-organize my mind (as if it were a sock drawer!), and both are good for long hours of travel. 

I've been able to do a good bit of thinking during my road trip to and from New Orleans. Music on full blast. Changing time zones. Writing poetry. Stealing away in my books for hours at a time. Pondering over this question: What do I want 2013 to be about? 

Looking back on last year's resolutions while completing my annual review of personal achievements, I've realized these two lists don't quite parallel. Many of my accomplishments have nothing to do with my original goals, which goes to show how things can change over time. As always, here's a look at what helped define 2012 for me: 

Year in Review:

• Got into UNC-Chapel Hill's School of Journalism and Mass Communication
• Learned to cook -- mainly potatoes, vegetables and multiple variations of pasta; I still haven't gotten past the squeamishness of raw meat
• Reached 200 followers, 200 blog posts and 40,000 page views (thanks to you!)
• Hosted my second major blogfest and first chapter critique giveaway
• Published short stories in Carolina Creates Writers and The Collegiate Scholar
• Found something beautiful to be happy and appreciative about every single day
• Joined Everyday Ambassador as the curriculum developer
• Interned at Shanghai Children's Medical Center and led the China Perspectives on Mental Health (CPMH) project
• Hosted two writing workshops for North Carolina Fellows
• Became best friends with my Nikon D5100

Most of these accomplishments were as a result of hard work over time and taking chances at unexpected opportunities. For instance, I only learned to cook after stumbling upon an outstanding smartphone application, Epicurious in the Apple App Store. For those of you who are still crafting your goals for the new year, feel free to refer to my guide: 5 Steps to a Resolution You'll Stick With. As for mine? Here they are: 

Do you make new year's resolutions? What are you most looking forward to in 2013?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

And now it's time for Frankie Mallis's Fourth Annual No-Kiss Blogfest! Forty-two awesome bloggers have signed up to participate in this new year's tradition; it's not too late for you to join us! Also, be sure to check out the other blogfest entries. As a refresher, here's what it's all about: 

"Write a scene or post one from of your favorite books, movies, TV shows, pictures or WIP that show the almost kiss -- the rising, crushing, excruciating, longing, tension that comes  when two characters get oh-so-close to kissing that you can just feel it, want it, NEED it....and then...they don't!" 

This is my third time participating in Frankie's No-Kiss blogfest. You can find my 2011 and 2012 entries here and here, respectively. And I can think of no better way to ring in 2013 than with some heat! For today's blogfest, I took a bit more creative liberty with this piece than I usually do with most of my other blogfest entries. My fictional scene is based on two youthful characters from another short story I wrote two semesters ago. Enjoy! 

Cotton Candy and Other Distractions

The first time my family went to the state fair, I was seven and barely tall enough to ride the Jump Star kiddie carousel. My mom had always accompanied me to these kinds of things. She would hold my hand as I mounted the painted horse, one foot hanging over either side of the animal figure. 

Now I'm fifteen and I'm at the state fair with a boy I hardly know. His name's Benjamin Watkins, but everyone at school calls him Benny. Before, I never even talked to him -- only saw him running the track during gym. We found out we were into each other two weeks ago when he winked at me and slipped me a note in my locker, middle-school style. It's not official or anything, but now the whole school knows. 

My older sister Myra has told me about boys before, just like she tells me about everything else. She calls them greasy slime balls and says I better take care of my fragile heart, but what does she know? 

Benny's not the same, I think. So far, I've learned he's really into rock music, and in my book passion is always something to appreciate. He's nice, not like the assholes at school who make fun of my red hair and freckles. And there's something about the way he flips his hair and smiles all wide like he's happy to see me.

Pink strands of candy floss twist around my tongue. It's been ages since I've had cotton candy, and I don't remember it tasting this sweet. I'm thinking about how Myra had mentioned that it's important not to bare my teeth when Benny suddenly says, "Like it?" 

We're on a small hill, overlooking the fairgrounds. A thousand bright bulbs light up the entire exhibition, with colorful balloons bobbing up and down every few yards. It's peaceful where we rest, side by side, clutching our cotton candy and stuffed prizes. 

Benny's sitting in the grass next to me and wearing a dark blue Guns N' Roses T-shirt that Mom wouldn't approve of, but oh, he's gorgeous. Brown hair brown eyes brown everything -- like chocolate. I wonder how I'd been so lucky. 

"Oh yes. Strawberry's my favorite flavor," I say, grinning, and then quickly close my mouth. In my head, Myra's clucking her tongue and talking about how there's nothing less attractive than pink teeth. First date problems. "Thanks for getting the cotton candy for me." 

"'Course," Benny says. He shifts his position so that he's facing me. "I'm glad we got to do this." 

All of a sudden, he sounds a little nervous. This puzzles me. Benny's the confident and cool one. He's the class clown who thinks up of new ways to harass Ms. Teeter, the math teacher everyone hates. He's the guy whom everyone wants on their dodgeball team. He's the first guy I've ever really liked, but right now he's nervous and I'm thinking maybe he can tell that I'm new to this. 

Benny Watkins flips his hair like he's from One Direction and then, before I know it, his hand is on mine. I'm frozen and useless, not unlike the ice cream cone a small boy about ten yards away just dropped on the floor. Did he just take my hand? Yes he did, I think, and oh my gosh I don't know what to do -- 

"I really like you," he says. 

I turn my head, and realize his face is inches from mine. His eyes are getting smaller and smaller; he's closing them. A little voice inside me screams, The kiss! He wants to kiss you! But I'm new to this, so it's hard to know which way to turn my head -- left or right? My stomach is filled with squirming sensations that won't go away. I'm scared my nose is too big, but Benny's lips are coming and there's no time for fear. My other hand grips the paper cone, sticky from sweat and cotton candy. 

Just as Benny's lips part and pucker, I breathe and suck in as much as air as possible, not sure how long kisses are supposed to last. Suddenly, something gets caught in my nose. It tickles, and I can feel another sensation developing quickly, the kind you're not supposed to get when you're about to be kissed. My nose gives way. 

"A-CHOO!" 

Leftover cotton candy sugar stings the back of my throat. It takes me a moment to recover, and when I open my eyes there's Benny Watkins, looking startled and one hand in front of him like a shield. 

I mumble a meek "sorry," my cheeks burning, as he passes me a napkin. He assures me that "it's fine," but any prospects of intimacy are gone now and I'm left wondering how could a sneeze have ruined the perfect moment for me.

Wendy Lu

Looking Back, Moving Forward: A Year In Review + Fourth Annual No-Kiss Blogfest

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Halloween House of Horrors Blogfest

#DailyWings: "There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery." - Joseph Conrad

This past weekend was a very special weekend for the Romantic Friday Writers, as the Halloween House of Horrors challenge took place Oct. 19 - 21. I know, I'm late. But when you've got four writing assignments due in less than a week and the flu to battle, your priorities tend to shift around. But hey -- better late than never, right? I won't be winning any awards with this piece (I wrote it in less than two hours, all the while wagging a disapproving finger at my own head for putting myself in such a time crunch), but it was still fun to write and come up with at the last minute.  

So what exactly was the challenge all about? 

RFW: "We’re looking for chilling stories of ghosts and haunted locations – and maybe even love from beyond the grave. A romantic element is essential, but we’re looking for stories with a thrilling edge of fear to add to the romantic tension building between our hero/heroine."

The maximum number of words is 1,000 but I'm afraid I went over quite a bit (it's hard to stop after you start, you know!). 

~ ~ ~ 

The Wife's Return

Anne-Marie didn't like where she was. Everything was dark and claustrophobic. She was inside some sort of case, which was musty and smelled of carcass. Where was she? The last thing Anne-Marie remembered was pounding on the glass window of her bedroom as smoky fumes filled her lungs and flames flickered against her ankles. Before she was  engulfed in fire, Anne-Marie had caught a glimpse of her husband, Kenneth, running across the front yard with his hands waving frantically. She'd been so sure that he had gone for help...

Her arms lifted, and a gasp escaped from Anne-Marie's lips. The gasp came out strange, though. Icy, almost. Anne-Marie stared at her arms -- they were transparent, as if they weren't there except as a ripple in the air. She moved her fingers one after another, and there went five ripples. She glanced down, and realized her long, once beautiful blonde hair was also transparent, like cellophane noodles. And so was her floral dress, the one Kenneth had bought her for their anniversary months ago. The one she had been wearing the day of the fire. 

"W-What am I?" asked Anne-Marie to no one in particular. Her voice had also changed -- it was several octaves higher than it used to be. "What have I become?" 

Anne-Marie moved to the side, feeling claustrophobic, and looked at the bottom of the case.  She screamed. There, right beside Anne-Marie was her own corpse, more than half-decayed. She was in her own coffin. 

* * * 

Three weeks had passed since Anne-Marie climbed out of her grave and discovered that she'd come back as a ghost. Waking up next to her own body wasn't the only surprise. Returning to earth as a disembodied spirit had its advantages -- Anne-Marie could now walk through solid objects, walk through the air and become invisible at will. If she didn't want humans to see her, they didn't. And if she wanted to move an object or walk through it, she could. The afterlife had so much to offer. But all Anne-Marie wanted was to know about Kenneth. Was he all right? How did he escape? Did he miss her, and if so, what did he say at her funeral? 

It didn't take long for Anne-Marie to figure out where to find her husband. The day she awoke, she'd realized that her grave was located in Breyer Meadows, the cemetery just a few miles from her home. When she returned, Anne-Marie found that her house had been burned to the ground. The fire had destroyed everything -- her piano, her favorite family photographs, her china and parlor furniture. All of it was gone. 

"No," Anne-Marie whispered. "No!" That night, she filled the town with her screams, cursing the name of God and terrorizing children in their sleep. She watched from behind windows as mothers rushed to their young's beds, holding tiny heads against their chests and assuring them it was only a bad dream. Her heart hardened at the sight. Nobody was there to hold her, or tell her that everything would be okay. 

Her only consolation was that Kenneth was still alive -- he had to be -- and that he would surely reach out to her if only he knew she was here. In some form, at least. 

Anne-Marie could bear it no longer. The next day, she went into the city and floated up to the seventh floor of the investment company where Kenneth used to work, hoping that he was still there. Sure enough, just as Anne-Marie reached the glass window of Kenneth's office, she saw him. 

There he was, standing against the door in a gray pantsuit with his hands in his pockets, looking flawless as ever. There was that dark brown hair and caramel skin, long nose and curled mouth. The fire hadn't left a single burn on Kenneth, at least none that Anne-Marie could see. Her eyes drooped and she cocked her head to the side, smiling dreamily at the man who had asked for her hand. Kenneth was alive and well. And still so handsome. The sight of him was enough to make her feel almost warm again. 

Then, movement on the other side of the room, behind the curtains that blocked part of the window, caught Anne-Marie's eye. The smoothing out of a skirt. The adjustment of eyeglasses. A woman came into view: a pretty blonde woman with long legs and red lips. Anne-Marie watched as she walked toward Kenneth, her heels making a small clicking noise against the tiles, and gave him a kiss. 

Kenneth put one hand around the woman's waist and the other around her neck, and kissed her back. With overlapping lips and tongue and passion that he had never seemed to put into the kisses he'd once given Anne-Marie. They were locked in a tight embrace now, as if they were determined to put as little space between them as possible. 

Disgusted, Anne-Marie looked away. Being a ghost was living hell now, for try as she might, she just couldn't get tears to come falling down her cheeks. How could Kenneth do this? It had barely been three weeks since the fire, and here he was kissing another woman. Hadn't he missed her, or at least wondered what she would think if she saw him right now, cheating? No, he probably hadn't wondered that, and -- as much as she wanted to think of it this way -- he wasn't cheating. Everyone thought Anne-Marie was dead. 

I am dead, Anne-Marie thought, angrily. Her life as a human being was long over, but Kenneth's wasn't. He had already moved on and left her behind. I can't let that happen. I can't let him do this to me.

She waited until Ms. Long-Legs left the office, her poker face on and her hair clipped into a tight new bun as if nothing had happened behind closed doors. 

Kenneth was alone in his office now, straightening his sleeves and walking toward his desk. Now was Anne-Marie's chance. She slowly floated through the glass window and right into the room until she was hovering above Kenneth. It took him eight seconds to realize he wasn't alone, and he whipped around to find a rippling Anne-Marie by his side. He let out a sound between a yelp and a wail. 

"Darling," Anne-Marie purred, and put one icy hand on his shoulder. Kenneth jolted out of his chair. 

"Who--who are you?" he said, wide-eyed and transfixed by her lucid presence. "What are you?"

"Oh, my dear Kenny." Anne-Marie watched as he flinched at her old nickname for him. She took a leap toward him, and he took several steps back. "Kenny, don't you know who I am? I'm Anne-Marie, your true love." 

"No, that's not possible. Anne-Marie is dead," Kenneth said, shaking his head back and forth as if trying to get rid of what was right in front of him. "She died in that fire." 

He took another step back, and Anne-Marie realized he was barely a few feet away from the glass window she'd spied on him through. Her eyes darted to his temples, where beads of sweat had begun to form. She smiled sweetly. 

"I've come back for you," Anne-Marie said. "Soon, we'll be together forever and you won't leave me again. You won't have a choice, if you're just like me." 

"Just--just like you? But, no," Kenneth stammered. "You're not real. This isn't happening." 

"Oh, but it is. You made this happen, honey, when you decided to leave me behind in that terrible house." Anne-Marie's tone was suddenly icy. "Now it's your turn to know what it feels like to be left behind by your entire world." 

"No!" Just as Kenneth turned his back, Anne-Marie swooped down and pushed him with her icy fingers until his face met the glass window. 

Blood everywhere. Broken shards flying in the air. From the seventh floor down, Anne-Marie was falling, falling, falling with Kenneth. Her hand held onto his shoulder, refusing to let go. And even as the wind blew roughly against his broken and ensanguined skin, he turned his head ever so slightly and saw her face plunging forward next to his. Seconds before Kenneth's body hit the pavement, he looked at her in the eye and seemed to notice her for the first time. He uttered his last word as if it was a question, "Anne."

I will be visiting RFW House of Horrors blogfest entries during the next couple of days. Thanks to those who have already stopped by to visit! Can't wait to read and get spooked!

Wendy Lu

Halloween House of Horrors Blogfest

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Happy Valentine's: Making the Best Out of a Hallmark Holiday

QOTD: What are your thoughts on V-Day? Is this a special time for everyone to tell their loved ones how much they care, or is Valentine's just another Hallmark holiday?

Happy Valentine's Day! <3 Bought myself a pretty paper rose :)

You can be sure that love was in the air today--all over campus. Students of all types of organizations were selling merchandise in the Pit: Purple-dyed carnations, candy, pink-and-red hearts, paper roses, chocolate-covered strawberries, the works. And it seemed as though there were more couples than usual holding hands and cuddling together. I even spotted one couple behind the dining hall, nuzzling against each other with their noses touching. I forgot to say "AWWW!" as I passed by. Oops...then again, they probably wouldn't have wanted me to interrupt. 

I have the biggest urge to make an "LOLOL FOREVER ALONE" joke right now but I shall refrain. Honestly, Valentine's Day really isn't that bad. I mean, if we're going to have holidays about loving our mommies and daddies and loving our presidents and loving no school presents (that's what Christmas is all about, right?), then it totally makes sense to have a holiday dedicated to love in general. And it really can be fun. It can be as fun as you make it.  

Besides, who says Valentine's is just for couples to enjoy? I bought a red paper rose this morning from one of those merchandise booths at the Pit, and you can bet I got it for myself! My mood instantly skyrocketed after that. Having the independence, the will and the money to treat myself to a small gift was so much more awesome than anxiously expecting someone else to do that for me, and I him. The thing is, before you can learn to love someone else you gotta' learn how to love yourself first. I also bought one of my great friends a pink rose, which made her really happy -- and made my day even better! 

After classes, I spent my afternoon tutoring adorable elementary and middle school-aged kids at an after-school program. We provided them with snacks (yes, candy too), a duo step show and art supplies to make Valentines for the local children's hospital. As cliche as it sounds, spending my time helping others is, I think, the most special part of this holiday for me. 

Best of all, throughout the day I have received really sweet messages from my awesome sister and friends. I am really too lucky to have these people in my life. And here I am now, letting myself enjoy a crunchy-delicious apple with Nutella before I finish off the night with a free-writing session and the latest episode of Glee. On Valentine's Day, what could be better?

Happy Valentine's: Making the Best Out of a Hallmark Holiday

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"A Mustard Moment": 3rd Annual No-Kiss Blogfest

Thanks to Frankie, 55 bloggers and I have had an awesome opportunity to participate in the 3rd Annual No-Kiss Blogfest yesterday! My apologies for posting my entry one day late, but better late than never, right? The idea of the blogfest is pretty self-explanatory--

"Write a scene or post one from your favorite books, movies, or tv shows that show the almost kiss-- the rising, crushing, excruciating, longing, tension that comes  when two characters get oh-so-close to kissing that you can just feel it, want it, NEED it....and then...they don't!"

For the blogfest, I've decided to go with a scene between Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury from the musical comedy, Glee. Sadly I couldn't find the scene on Youtube, but the scene is from Episode 6: "Vitamin D" in Season 1. Enjoy!

Lunch period was Emma's favorite time of the day. 

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy advising the children about sibling troubles and relationship woes and the unimportance of popularity (convincing them that the positively linear relationship between boob size and social life didn't matter was tough). 

Quite the contrary, in fact. 

Emma loved being a high school guidance counselor and listening to other people talk about their problems. She liked helping people. 

She especially liked helping Will Schuester, Spanish teacher and director of Glee Club, during lunch period.

Today, the topic was Glee Club. 

"The kids have gotten really complacent," Will was saying now, waving his sandwich around in frustration. "It's like their fires have totally gone out." That's when Emma spotted a smudge of yellow mustard on his chin. She repressed a snort. Seeing the mustard didn't bother her as much as it should have. It looked so funny.

That was one of the best things about Will. When Emma was around him, she felt more comfortable. Her OCD wasn't as big of a problem and wasn't as big of a controlling factor. She could enjoy herself.

Emma cleared her throat and looked down. "Um," she said. "Um, I'm sorry. You've just, ah, you've got a little mustard on your...well, your cute Kirk Douglas chin dimple." 

Was she blushing? Maybe. It did feel a little warm in the room. Emma could never tell what she physically felt like when Will was around. All she knew was that when William spoke to her, she couldn't focus on anything. And for Emma, that was saying something. 

"Wha-?" Will swagged his tongue over his chin and gave Emma an inquiring look as if to ask, did I get it? He laughed and her heart skipped a beat. 

"Um, well, ah..." She reached out one of her plastic-gloved porcelain-like hands over to Will's chin and swabbed the mustard off. "There."

Her fingers rested on his jawline. She smiled, and then noticed that he was looking at her. Really looking at her. His hazel eyes were electrifying. He hadn't looked at her like that since last month when they were alone cleaning Miss. Hoffmire's classroom and he'd brushed chalk dust off of her nose. 

She told herself, don't look at his mouth, don't look at his mouth. She looked at his mouth. He was staring at her, too. her heart began pounding inside. It was like the daily high school stampede into the cafeteria all over again. 

Will whispered, "thanks." 

"A Mustard Moment": 3rd Annual No-Kiss Blogfest

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