Goodbye November

Well, looking back at my Welcome To November post, it’s safe to say that the month didn’t kill me, seeing as I’m currently at my desk typing this end-of-month post. I’m probably going to make this a thing, so be prepared for a Welcome To December post sometime tomorrow (Speaking of, how is it the end of the year already? I swear it was January like, 20 minutes ago).

Six home volleyball matches: success, and we even finished the final two weeks with three wins. (Though, I suffered my first ever concussion during match two, so…maybe call that a sort-of success).

We made it through that tough trip to Washington state too, even though I’m not sure how I survived that five-hour, middle of the night bus right from Pullman to Bellevue (and speaking of, the Hyatt in Bellevue was SO nice).

Still working on those things that I can’t talk about yet, but there’s definitely a LOT more to come.

The greatest crisis of my life is STILL my life, so….might as well keep my hair fake-red and write about it.

And for the record, considering how loose my skinny jeans are fitting, no one out there reminded me to eat on a regular basis last month. I would very much like it if someone were to do that. I’m getting to the point where I can’t afford to buy clothes even though I’ve finally taught myself how not to eat my feelings.

So yeah, someone remind me to eat on a regular basis.

Thanks.

– Kathryn, The Fake Redhead

In front of them, forks of jagged lightening crack across the reddish sky and Mathias finally moves, runs a hand through his hair, sighs when Dallas purses her lips into a thin line, “You know why I’m here-” he starts.

Previous #1LineWeds
November 23 and November 16

#AmWriting Success! (?)

I have been dealing with that pesky writer’s block issue for the better part of the last three and a half weeks.

No, not due to post-election stress (though I know that’s been a common issue for writers these days. Hang in there everyone, it’s only going to get worse before it gets better), but that’s when I was diagnosed with a work-caused concussion.

Also, work happened.

But I was able to write today!

Thank god. It’s only going to become my livelihood.

600 words isn’t much, but hey, it’s better than nothing.

And maybe if I keep reminding myself that, I’ll eventually believe it. That’s how it works, right?

#FakeRedheadThinks

Here are the top two reasons why I don’t like watching college sporting event broadcasts with sound:

  1. The butchering of student-athlete pronunciations.
    1. It really doesn’t help when I know the student-athletes, and therefore know their names.
    2. It really, really doesn’t help when I’m watching replays of sports I cover and names are butchered after I’d gone over pronunciations of key student-athletes.
  2. The talent’s lack of knowledge of the sport being played (which mostly plays into college live stream and online broadcasts of Olympic sports).
    1. Look, I know that most of the people on these broadcasts are students, looking to get some experience and eventually break into the business, but seriously, you have, have, HAVE to know about who and WHAT you’re talking about.
    2. If you’re covering a sport you’ve never covered before, do your research.
      1. That means looking up how the sport is scored at the college level and what the significant scoring terms ARE.
      2. That also means looking up pertinent information about any and ALL teams participating in the event. All major college athletics institutions have website FULL of information. Look them up.

Seriously, a pro tip: If you don’t know where to find the information you need, ASK.

I, and the people I work with, literally exist to help you look smart.

Part One

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Part One of You will Find Your Way
After a midnight run through her neighborhood in Blythe, California, Dallas returns home to find Giselle reading through their mail.

Present Day

Dallas’ lungs burn.

She runs across the path carved into the dusty desert around a little residential area in Blythe, California, and her heartbeat pounding in her throat masks the sound of a feral animal howling somewhere in the distant desert.

It’s sometime late and very dark, headlights from semi-trucks sparking over and over in an irregular rhythm out on the highway while a few streetlights flicker at the other end of the block.

Eventually Dallas slows and comes to a stop, rests her hands on her knees as she gasps for breath. She goes a little dizzy and waits it out before she checks the metrics from her run on her watch, scrolls through and saves the workout.

She dismisses the app and the clock face appears on the watch, tells her it’s way too late to be out and running.

Dallas is sure that when she was little, she hated running.

Mostly sure.

Continue reading “Part One”