When to write and eye contact

Because I can’t seem to find good dialogue or even just ideas for the next part of my play, I will write a blog post. When is the right time to write? Some people love routines. I am not one of them. Routines feel scary for me. I don’t have a daily routine. I wake up whenever I feel like it. I don’t shower till I absolutely need to. I basically bum around the house on my days off.

So when do I feel like writing?

The answer is complicated. When I have the urge to write, I write. I have been anxious about a lot of things, however. Which means that when I have an idea and I want to write it down, I’m so anxious that I sometimes forget the idea completely and not write it down. Sometimes even writing in a journal seems too slow. Being a writer is actually writing, but so far my ideas all turn to crap. Most of the deep observations that I have every day are wasted. I sit down to write them down and they somehow float away.

Maybe if I write a blog post every day I’ll feel like I am actively writing. So from now on I will try to write a blog post every day, with either an edit of a story, or just some random stuff that is going through my head.


Ok, so now that I have a goal, lets get started! I have a hard time looking people in the eye. When I’m talking to someone, I tend to focus on their right side… for some strange reason. I hate talking to people for too long. My throat starts clenching up and tears start coming to my eyes. I never know when it’s appropriate to walk away or even how long it’s acceptable to keep talking to someone without coming off as creepy. Eye contact is a huge issue for me. When a conversation gets too long for me I start tracing patterns in anything. I imagine a string that I’m pulling and pulling in order to not drown in the ocean.

I know I don’t have that many followers and that maybe not that many people read my blog. But, if you guys could maybe comment on some of the content of my posts so I know maybe what I should write about beforehand, that would be a great help.

~ Jillian


Waiting for the Elevator by Jillian Rogers

I apparently forgot that I wrote another short story before my “Origins” story. This one actually jumps out at me a lot more and I would love to explore this more. I feel like I have more material to work with than “Origins.” So here is a short story I wrote about two years ago. I also have started writing a play. It was mainly to get my mind off of my mystery novel that I’m writing. I work best when I work on something else and then somehow, ideas come to me.

Waiting for the elevator by Jillian Rogers

I arrive to the party an hour early, anxious for the night’s events. There is only one other person in the office. I try to act as normal as possible without drawing attention to myself. I try distracting myself with setting up the decorations, but my mind starts to wander, imagining the gossip that is sure to race through the office. Things like, “Did you hear about Nick and Lucy? He finally asked her,” and “Nick had some balls to ask Lucy.” Two years of standing on the sidelines. Twenty minutes into decorating, Lucy shows up. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s her. She has this distinct smell of strawberry bubble gum and soap that radiates from her body. I turn around when I hear Lucy say, “This looks lovely Nick. I’m glad you are the one decorating and not Messy Bessy.” I give her a slight chuckle and a grin. I stare at her, unsure of what to say. It’s my chance to say something but somehow I am not able to breathe. My hands are clammy and the back of my neck is sweating. I can do this. I take a deep breathe and say, “Lucy, there is something I need to tell you.” I then proceed to explain to her how her boyfriend has been cheating on her this whole time. With other employees. As I begin to explain my story to her, I can see that she is hurt by what she is hearing. “He’s been using you Lucy. He has…” Lucy interrupts me. “How dare you,” she exclaims.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You think that if you tell me about all the dirty stuff my boyfriend has supposedly done to other people; I would leave him for you. Well, you’re wrong. You’re just a fucking loser who thinks that the new Star Wars movie is the next best thing. What the fuck is wrong with your brain to believe that it is acceptable to lie and cheat your way into my life? I’ll have you know…” she trailed off, looking behind her. Jeremy appeared behind me in the doorframe making out with Darla, the office slut. Lucy glanced from him to me and in that second I could tell she was mortified. “E-excuse me. I have to deal with something.” She then walked over to Jeremy and dragged him out the door, leaving a bewildered Darla standing in the doorframe looking like a lost puppy.

That did not go as planned. I’m unsure of whether or not I should feel bad that she cussed me out, or just relieved that she knows the truth. I continue with the decorations when Jessie walks by.

“You told her right?” Jessie asks.

“Yeah. Didn’t go as I’d have hoped.”

“Well, nothing in life ever does.”

“You can say that again.”

“Hey, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you. I know how you love to take photographs. My cousin wants someone to accompany her on her trip around the world. It’ll last about a year and you would get paid for every photo you develop. Travel and living expenses will be paid for. I know you have this thing with Lucy, but this would be a great opportunity to get out of accounting. Just think about it.” She leaves to help set up some of the snacks.

I’ve always been interested in photography. If I did this, this could make me famous. It’s always been my dream to travel the world and take photographs. But this thing with Lucy prevents me from doing this, unless she would even consider coming with me.

Lucy’s perspective

That’s it. It’s over. Fuck it. I don’t need him. Five years of being together all thrown down the drain. It’s as if he never cared about me. All these tiny little secrets of his came rushing to the surface in all of two hours. Somehow I was so naïve as to believe he would never hurt me. After a yelling match that lasted an hour after I stopped crying, I decided to call it quits. I told him that I never want to see him and that it would be best if we have our space. Jeremy is the one to storm out first. I sit in the room for a few more minutes before I decide to go back to the party.

I walk back up to the party that is in full swing. Mary is over by the karaoke stand singing “Don’t Stop Believing”, Amber is probably in the office screwing the brains out of Ted and then there is Nick. He’s standing by the drink table looking forlorn.

“I’m such an idiot,” I exclaim as I approach Nick.

“No you’re not. I am…” Nick began.

“No I am. I shouldn’t have cursed you out like that.”

I take a shot of tequila before he can say anything. I just want to forget what happen and drink till I blackout. I pour Nick a shot. He looks a little skeptical, but takes the shot as soon as he sees my face. He knows not to question me when I’m like this.

A few shots later, we’re both drunk off our asses. I start feeling as if the world is floating on thin air.

“Lets go to a bar,” I proclaim.


We head down to the bar around the corner from our building. After three more drinks of beer and whiskey, words do not make sense to my drunk addled mind. I turn to Nick, wanting to tell him something about a unicorn and a wasp, when all of sudden, my lips attack his. I’m not sure where this is coming from. He eagerly returns the kiss while gripping onto my hips.

“Lets take a cab to my place,” he breathes in between kisses.

I don’t know what to do, so I go along with whatever he has in mind. In a blur, we’re in a cab headed to Nick’s place. Fervent kisses are placed all around my body and I am in heaven. His hands are around my waist, holding me to him but even then, it’s not enough. The cab ride takes five minutes and we can barely make it out of the cab in time. We stumble up the stairs of his apartment building while still clinging onto each other.

As soon as we, somehow, get inside of Nick’s apartment, Nick pushes me against the door. My stomach is in knots. I cannot get enough of this guy. Nick puts his hands under my ass to hoist me up. My arms go around his shoulders for support and we are moving around his apartment trying to find his bedroom. Kisses are placed haphazardly throughout my body. We finally manage to find his bedroom.

Nick closes the door behind us and then proceeds to throw me on the bed. He slowly climbs on top of me, as if to savor this moment. He kisses me deeply while taking off his button up shirt. He only breaks the kiss to take my shirt off. His hands grasp the hem of my shirt while slowly pulling the shirt up. He is driving me insane. I twist our bodies so that I am on top. I take off my shirt and run kisses up and down his body. I unclasp my bra and let the flimsy piece of clothing fall down. Nick takes his hands and rubs each boob. I start to suck on his neck while he works on my belt. Once the belt is off, Nick pulls my jeans down, revealing my blue lacy panties. Once that is off, I slowly undo his belt and pull his pants down.

Next thing I know, I wake up with light streaming through the blinds. I look down and Nick’s hands are around my waist. Oh crap. I slowly move his arms around me and tip toe out of the bed. I gather up my discarded clothes that were thrown around the room and tiptoe towards the door.

After that I night, I couldn’t sleep. The parts of the night I remember play through my head like a song on repeat. I throw myself into my work, trying to get my mind off of what happened. I stop eating at the cafeteria and start bringing my own lunches. This proves to be a wise choice for both my wallet and my body. I stay away from old routine of getting coffee before work and take the stairs more often when I’m sure I have time. My life has become a game of keep away. I cannot face him; at least not yet. My mind focuses on what work I have left to do in order to get that promotion I’ve always dreamed of.

One night, while watching TV, my phone rings. It’s Jeremy. He wants to have lunch, to talk this over and catch up. I try to say no, but somehow my no becomes a yes. After we make a date for tomorrow at noon, I hang up. I’m in shock. Maybe the healing process is to face what had hurt me in the first place. I’m pretty sure he will have some excuse as to why he did what he did and that he still wants me. And I’ll believe him because that’s what I’ve always wanted in life. I thought he was “the one”. He was the guy I was going to marry and grow old with. Looking back, however, I can see how naïve I was. All those days where he would say his battery died on his phone or that he had to go to a business meeting on a Saturday. It was right in front of my face and I didn’t care.

I arrived at the diner five minutes early hoping to dodge any meeting with Nick. I had only gone inside a few inches when I feel a hand tap my shoulder. I turn around, thinking it was Jeremy, but instead I see Nick. He’s wearing that purple bowtie again. Somehow it looks flattering on him. Wait, what am I saying? I’ve been avoiding this guy for weeks.

“Hey Lucy.”

“Hey… look, now is not a really great time. I’m meeting Jeremy.”

“Really? After what he did to you?”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“Lucy, remember. I. NEVER. WOULD.”

With that, he walked away. I felt guilty. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude. Right as I was about to run after him, Jeremy walks in. He’s in a formal blue business suit, which means he probably only has a half hour to spare. When we take our seats, Jeremy goes on about how sorry he is. He didn’t mean for it to go that far. He keeps trying to make excuses about how he had been feeling neglected by me and how he was provoked. I try to pay attention, but my mind wanders back to Nick’s parting words.

Here sits a man who not only lied to me once, but has been lying to me since the day we started going out. Then there’s a man who is very honest and considerate, who I just bitched to about it being none of his business. I look at my hands and how close they are to Jeremy’s. Do I want this to work out? What if he lies to me again? I realize that I don’t want someone who has lied to me. I want someone who will look after me. I stand up right as Jeremy was in the middle of his sentence. “Sorry Jeremy. I really need to go. I hope you go fuck yourself you lying piece of shit.” I leave the diner and head towards the office.

Nick’s perspective

It’s been two weeks since that night. At first I was a hurt that she would leave and not acknowledge what happened. Then I started to blame myself, because after all, I knew what I was getting into. Later on, however, after it became clear that she was clearly avoiding me, I got mad. I could not believe her. We are not in high school anymore. She should face the problem, if she considers this a problem, like adults. I tried everything to make the pain go away, but I couldn’t numb the pain.

I just bumped into Lucy and even though I wanted to be kind to her, I ended up screwing it up. So I ran. I didn’t know where to go. All I knew was that I needed to get anywhere but here. Home. I should go home. I decide to call up my mom and tell her I’m coming home for a few days. When I get to the office, I start up my computer searching for flights from JFK to Denver. As I start booking my flight, Lucy shows up. Her light brown hair looks disheveled, as if she’s been thinking about something serious. Her sad green eyes study me for a moment.

“Are you busy?” she asks.

“I was just booking my flight home. I’m going home for a few days. I need some air.”

“Oh. Well I came here to apologize. I’ve been avoiding you these two weeks because I was scared that you might take it the wrong way. I didn’t want to face what I had done. What we had done. But when I was talking to Jeremy today, your last words to me really hit me. I’ve been lying to myself since I’ve been with Jeremy. I wanted to believe that we were perfect. That we would somehow grow old together. I realized that this was a fairytale I was trying to feed myself in order to hide from the truth. You have always been a great friend to me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t there to crack a smile at some stupid joke I made to break the ice. Or how I would survive without your witty commentary on the new Star Trek versus the old Star Trek. I know I said I thought you were really dorky but it was never a bad thing to me. I only said that because I was confused. If you are up to it, I’d like a second chance at being friends and seeing where that leads us.”

I am stunned. I didn’t expect her to ever say something like that. I must have had a bored expression on my face because she asked if she was boring me with her apology. I apologized and told her that I wasn’t sure. This was the day I have been waiting for. Yet, I feel as if she is just rebounding.

“Lucy, it is great that you are finally willing to go out with me, but I don’t want to rush into this. Just an hour ago I hated you. It took you actively ignoring me to make me realize that I don’t want to waste my life chasing after you. I get that you realize your mistake but…”

I am interrupted by a kiss. The kiss is urgent, as if she was expecting something to somehow manifest itself within the kiss. I pull away.

“You can’t just kiss me and expect me to go along with what you want. Look, I’m going home and if by the time you want to still give us a shot, then great.”

“How about we both fly to Denver together? That way we can both get some air and see where this is headed.”

I think about it. It wouldn’t be the worst plan ever. It would be great to show Lucy off to my parents. They would love her.

Lucy’s perspective


I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake. It’s too fast. The walls of the Fitzgerald’s  living room constrict around me, as if they are trying to push out the intruder. My mom always told me that if a guy invites you to dinner with his family, they want to marry you. The thing is, I don’t want this. The expensive looking china doll on the mantelpiece gives me a devilish grin. Everything in this room reminds me of all the collages I made as a child. I would cut out pictures from magazines to build my “dream house” and present them to my mom. My mom would say I was wasting my time. I could never get a house like that. The Fitzgerald’s house is in perfect order. It’s hard to imagine anyone hating this life. I can only imagine play dates with friends, birthday parties with a room full of presents and days with endless laughter. I try to come up with some excuse to leave, but can think of nothing. I’ve already committed by walking through the front door. I have to see this out.

Mr. Fitzgerald, Greg, asks me about my job. I barely register the question. I focus on the photo near the television. It’s Nick and his parents on a ski trip. Something I’ve never done. Mr. Fitzgerald follows my gaze and says, “Oh, that was last year. We went to Lake Tahoe during winter. Do you ski Lucy?” I can feel all eyes on me, expecting me to say something. I can’t live up to their expectations. I hesitate.

On the ride over here, Nick mentioned the photography gig. While I was happy for him, part of me wanted him to stay. I felt guilty even telling him that that was a great opportunity for him. When we walked through the door I couldn’t stop imagining myself telling him that he should stay. After all, we were just figuring out what we wanted.

His parents wait patiently for my answer. Should I tell them? Will my stance as the girl their son brought home be lowered somehow? I can’t chance it. So I tell them I have to go to the bathroom.

I hear a knock on the bathroom door. It’s Nick.

“Can I come in?” I open the door.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asks.


“Seriously. You’ve been acting weird since we got here. Did my parents say something?”


“Well then, what is it?”

“I’m uh… pregnant.”

Filler title =)

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a blog post. Recently, I’ve been going to therapy. I want to beat depression and move on with my life. I’m being open about being depressed because sometimes you need to know other people are out there. One thing I discussed was the topic of moving on. There are several people out there who will claim that they have “moved on,” but they cannot stop talking about the object of interest. Moving on means that you are no longer thinking about that person. Once you stop talking or thinking about the object, it’ll be easier to move on. So maybe I should try to move on from depression. If I try to not think about depression, maybe I’ll actually move on.

Okay, so one thing we talked about in school is the topic of tone. How does your piece sound? When you read your own writing, do you sound like a kid, or do you sound like a mature adult? I keep thinking about how my readers might perceive what I’m writing. Everything I’ve ever turned in for review always sounds like that whiny kid from down the street. The words in my head won’t ever come out the way I ever want them to. Some of my readers have never met me and can’t really imagine how the cadence of my sentences sound like.

This week I have been really stressed out. I’m in a musical called “High Spirits” at Pacifica Spindrift. I really love performing in musicals, which is something else I love doing besides writing. I hope it goes well. It’s actually really fun so far. Although I worry that I might be just doing something so I don’t have to think that much about how I don’t think I’ll make much with my life. Which is absurd. It’s super late at night and I wanted to post something before I go to sleep. So I’ll continue writing my novel in the morning. Hopefully I can build a normal routine with my writing. I don’t normally like routines. I like being sporadic and eccentric with my time management.

Stay tuned for more blog posts about my life and other book reviews. I will review “Gone Girl” by Gillian Flynn next.

~ Jillian

“The Girl In The Road” by Monica Byrne

This book took me a while to get through. There are a lot of parts in this book where I was left confused as to what was happening. There seemed to be an excess of information that didn’t feel relevant to the story and very little on helping the reader navigate through this world. I could not picture this world clearly because I felt like there wasn’t that much description in the story. I would give this 2/5 stars because the story was confusing from the start. One interesting thing that did stick with me about the way this author wrote the story was how the story starts with the action. When I started the book, I was impressed with how “in the moment” the text felt. But then it started getting confusing when the setting wasn’t given full description. Names of leaders and political parties were introduced but never fully explained, which caused me to interpret more than I needed to in order to grasp what was happening in this story.

Meeting Billie Joe Armstrong (Green Day)


Today, I have achieved the dream I have had for ten years. To get a picture with Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day. This guy has changed my life in ways I could never really explain to myself. I have actually met him before, but I didn’t get a picture that time. Well, except for the picture above, when I got to mosh with him. Here is the photo that I took today:


I saw the US premier of his movie, “Like Sunday, Like Rain” at the Mills Valley Film Festival. The movie was really good. Billie Joe stars as this crazy musician who is dating this girl, Eleanor, played by Leighton Meester, who finally dumps him after realizing how fed up she is with her situation. Billie Joe definitely plays the dick boyfriend well. I’m sure if I didn’t know anything about him and saw him on the street, I probably would get that vibe from him. The movie was one of those movies that is a sum of its parts. The movie seemed slow at first, but towards the end, we kind of get this really nice, almost wistful ending. It is a must see, if you ever get the chance to see it.

After the show, they had a Q&A with the director, the producer, Billie Joe, and Leighton. The questions were mainly focused on the director, and there weren’t that many questions. Supposedly the director/writer originally wrote a scene where Billie Joe’s character would go on a shooting spree. Unfortunately, he had to take the scene out. I actually thought that was the feel of what it was building towards. We were sitting in the front row, so we got an unobstructed view of the panel. Billie Joe seemed kind of spaced out.

After the Q&A, there was an after party. When we got there, people were already taking pictures with Billie Joe. My friend Sandra and I basically creeped by them, because we were so nervous. We ended up talking to Adrienne, Billie Joe’s wife. We wished her a happy birthday and discussed Emily’s Army. She is one of the most down to Earth people I have met. Later on Sandra actually went up to Billie Joe and talked to him. While my friends talked and got pictures, I could only muster up the courage to say that I wanted a picture. I basically just thanked him for taking the photo with me. I think he was slightly amused, however, since he is taller than me. He leaned his head in towards me… and I was basically in heaven.

I got to talk to Leighton for a second. As you may know, she was in the movie “Country Strong.” You should see it, since it is a really good movie. She has a great voice. Apparently she is working on something, which is coming out soon. The lady she was talking to before I interrupted her said that Leighton thought I was sweet and that she gets shy when answering questions. I wanted to ask Billie Joe how stage acting feels different than movie acting, since he was in “American Idiot.” I wish I could’ve asked that, but I was too shy. Billie Joe actually got Adrienne a cake and sang Happy Birthday to her.


This was my attempt to get a picture of them hugging when Billie Joe gave her the cake. It was so sweet. I even got to ask the director how many drafts there were and how he knew what to cut. I was so nervous. This experience was so amazing and I am glad that I didn’t back down from going.

Now that I have achieved my goal, I don’t know where to go from here. It seems crazy that I would have had this experience. I’m sure if you told my 15 year old self that I would someday get a legit picture with Billie Joe, she would have told you that you were crazy.

Anyways, I just thought I would post a quick blog post about tonight. I might blog more on the subject later, but for now, this is what I’ll give you.

~ Jillian