Fictional Dialogue

In an effort to expand my writing style, this entry will be my first stab at fictional writing. I do well with non-fiction- my life’s experiences and the thought process of my mind. However, if I plan to write a novel one day, which I do in case you were wondering, I need to work on dialogue, developing the context and detailing the surrounding environment.

Here’s one for dialogue:

Entering my apartment door, I exhale the evening’s stresses and look forward to a relaxing evening on the couch sipping a glass of wine and watching the newest Shark Week on Discovery.

“Where have you been? Have you not received my calls? Why in the world didn’t you text me back?” Lucia, my roommate for more than three years, asks in bewilderment before I even finish pulling my keys out of the lock.

Frazzled and clearly desperate about a new dilemma in her life, she looks like hell standing in our apartment’s foyer. Disappointed about a missed opportunity for an easy night, I will myself to look concerned about Lu’s latest problems.

“My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger,” I say in a tone of convincing empathy and worry. “What’s wrong? You look frazzled!”

Hesitating for dramatic effect, which is something Lu has perfected over the years due to her on and off acting career, she murmurs “Yesterday evening I saw Kevin with another woman at the farmer’s market. They were holding hands,” she continues as self-pitying tears fill her eyes, “and he looked so happy and comfortable cuddled next to her.”

Kevin is the same guy who she broke up with two years ago. He was a bastard. Correction, is a bastard. Kevin was a cheating, two-timing, good for nothing, jobless fool who strung her along their lengthy five month relationship. She hasn’t been able to move on even after filling her evenings with other men, and much better looking men in my opinion, that she meets at various auditions around the city.

“Lu,” I begin trying to hide my irritation, “it’s been years since you and Kevin were together. You truly need to move on! He was useless when you were together and he’s still probably still just as awful. You know as well as I do that he is good at faking interest and is probably screwing around on her the same way he two-timed you!”

Flopping on our overstuffed red leather couch, which I can’t stand the sight of but gave in to Lu’s insistence on the importance of dramatic surroundings, she says “That’s not fair. You know how much he means to me.”

“Meant, Lu , past tense. Can we move on? I know it sucks to see an ex, but it’s been over two years and you two didn’t date for that long,” I pause long enough for this information to sink in and continue to change the subject, “Have you even showered today? Your hair looks greasy! I thought you had an audition?”

There is no better way to get Lu interested in another topic than talking about her appearance. She prides herself on her long, curly, blonde hair and hates to think it is anything less than perfection.

“I couldn’t bring myself to even get dressed,” she responds pulling at her PJ pants. “After the incident I came straight home, changed into these and fell into bed. I’m so distraught I can barely eat and when you didn’t come home last night I only got worse,” she complains while putting her head in her hands to further illustrate her anxiety. “Where were you anyway?”

“Working late,” I respond. It’s a bold faced lie, but it’s not worth getting into with Lu. She doesn’t really know much about my real life and I think it’s much better that way because she’s too sensitive and chatty to deserve the truth. It sounds harsh, but it’s simply the way it goes. It’s not that I don’t like Lu, because I do; in fact, I adore her. She’s quite spunky and usually suggesting fun events for us to go to together so in that way is a great form of escapism for me.

“You work too hard. I think we need to find you another job because that PR Firm is slowly killing you,” she responds. She hesitates for a minute and with a serious look on her face suggests, “We’ll find another career opportunity for you once we figure out how to murder Kevin. Or make him love me again.”

Accepting the fact that my DVR’d Shark Week is no longer on the agenda tonight, defeated I walk over to the fridge, “We’re going to need a bottle of wine for this one.”

“Or two,” Lu responds with a giggle.

Carrots are good for you?

I’m prone to anxiety attacks. Ever since I was a little kid, I have had terrifying bouts of crying, hyperventilating, panicky breakdowns. When I was younger they were triggered by smaller things such as having to go to bed at a certain time or a test I was supposed to take the following day. As I have gotten older, the attacks come at about the same frequency but usually require tougher issues to push me to that breaking point.

On Sunday night I reached the edge. After seeing $25k in hospital bills from a “troubled appendix”, weeks of pain with my back, frustration at work, and days of more intense back pain from the cortisone shots – I lost it.

Blubbering about my issues to my exhausted husband, I felt as though the weight of the world was on my shoulders. The heaviness on my chest increased as I went down the list of all the things that were worrying me and the more I thought about my concerns the worse I became.

During my attack I couldn’t understand why life was so difficult. Isn’t it supposed to be easier than this? Why do I always feel like I am on a treadmill sprinting without any opportunity to press the emergency stop button? Why did the reward, or the figurative carrot, never come? Had I betrayed my younger self by settling down in a passionless job to simply pay the bills? What was the point of working my ASS off in college?

After letting me bitch for about 30 minutes, Scotty took a deep breath and explained that, as unfortunate as it may be, this is life. There are tough moments and there are glorious moments. He attempted to remind me of all of the good things in my life (of which there are plenty), but in my condition, I didn’t let him get too far down the happy road.

Exhausting the ‘life has moments of rainbows and butterflies too’ angle, Scott took a more realistic approach and offered some invaluable advice. He told me I needed to slow down. That everyone is chasing that damned stringed carrot, and in fact, it never goes away.

The reward is always changing and morphing into something bigger and better- the carrot gets juicier and fatter- and I always feel as though I am not reaching it. But I am reaching it! I am making progression toward my goals, but too concerned with the next step to take time to enjoy the smaller rewards.

He advised me that instead of running full speed after the carrot, I should take a leisurely stroll toward it. He encouraged me to stop to smell the flowers, take breaks once in awhile and cut myself some slack when I slip and fall along the path. The carrot is always going to be there, so what’s the point in exhausting yourself on the journey to get it?

His advice dried up my tears immediately (which for anyone who knows me well enough understands that this is no easy feat). I slept soundly that night and woke up the next morning with a more optimistic and fresh perspective.

I am still going to chase after the carrot, after all I am a driven and ambitious woman, but I am going to make an effort to enjoy the journey. And, of course, with my Scott’s hand in mine it should go a lot more smoothly.

Calm Minded

Last week I attended a Hatha Yoga class for the first time. Although quite different from many of the other yoga styles I have tried, including Vinyasa and Bikram, I quite enjoyed the class because of its differences to these other yoga styles.

Walking out of the class, I didn’t experience my usual post workout symptoms- fatigue, sore muscles, shortness of breath- all the typical signs of a challenging physical workout. And surprisingly, I was fine with that because for the first time in weeks I had a clear mind.

The class centered around seated positions and encouraged a strong connection to the mind’s eye, also known as the third eye. We were consistently reminded by our instructor to concentrate “between our eyebrows” and pay particular attention to our breath. And because the poses weren’t overly challenging, I was able to connect with my breath better than other yoga practices.

Toward the end of the class, we engaged in a breathing exercise that the instructor described as “cooling”. Sitting upright with our legs crossed, we were instructed to breathe in through the mouth with our tongue formed in a roll, and to exhale out of the nose. In any other situation this would have been hilarious to me; in fact, for the first minute I had to suppress a few giggles. But the breathing exercise was no laughing matter- it was wonderful! Not only did my entire body literally cool down, but my mind and body were able to fully relax and surrender to the flow of my breath.

After the breathing exercise, I entered into the final savasana pose with a calm mind and body. I always enjoy the savasana pose in my yoga practice because it allows me to, of course, take a break from the challenging practice, but also gives me an opportunity to relax and center my being. Usually though, my mind is filled with so many tasks and to-do items, that I can only fully practice savasana for about one minute before my mind takes over and anxiety sets in.

This class was different. I was relaxed enough to let both my mind and body completely go. I didn’t engage in any thoughts that entered my brain, and instead took the advice of the instructor to let my thoughts pass me by. Ideas floated through my consciousness, but not once did I engage any of my thoughts- I simply let them flow unattached.

The disconnect from my mind was an interesting experience, and more importantly a relaxing and calming one. Usually, due to my controlling nature, I have difficulties “letting go” and panic when I don’t feel in touch with myself. But I reveled in this new experience and I hope to practice it again soon.