Tomorrow my dad, his girlfriend and I embark on the crazy nine-hour road trip from Owasso, Oklahoma to Houston, Texas, which is where I live most of the time. I'm so excited. I guess you can take the girl out of Texas, but you can't take the Texas out of the girl.
Watching the Polar Express right now, for what seems to be the fiftiest time. I had it on continuous rerun last night while I was sleeping. I would wake up to the beautiful song "When Christmas Comes Around". I would smile to myself and go back to sleep to the lullaby.
But when I wake up to that know-it-all kid... I have to restrain myself from tossing a pillow across the room at my TV. I can't stand his voice. Oh, the thoughts that would race through my mind if the Polar Express came by my house! I wouldn't hesitate a heartbeat. Tom Hanks wouldn't even have time to give me the introduction.
My dad surprised me by cleaning up my room while I was in the shower tonight. Is it sad that I didn't notice until I was hanging up my bathrobe and realize that I wasn't tripping over dirty socks? I was able to see my floor. I had no idea it was tan carpet.
I'm thirteen. Don't judge me.
Well, I'm off to write some more of The Lost God. I might have to delete some of it, again. It's getting a little overwhelming for the reader and for the main character. I don't want everything to be revealed to him the first day of godlyhood (is that a word? No? Godlyhood is now a word, then).
Peace, Love, Write
~Shelby Becker
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