You're Getting A Present Today. Be Grateful.

I don't feel like doing an actual post, because there's too much I can't divulge as of yet and I don't really have the time anyway. So I bring you a treat instead!

Here are some of my first poems, when I started writing decent poetry about 2 years ago.

(I, You, We) Have Reduced Life to Words

Reduced-
All to nothing
Nothing to something
And back again.
                                     

                                      Life-
                                      Goes on to something
                                      Races to nothing

                                      And back again.
                  

                   Words-
                   Meaning nothing
                   Encapsulating everything
                   And sometimes exposing
                   Something.

Nearer to the End

Desperation

Isn't something I wear

Very well.

                        It chafes

                        It itches

                        It inflames.

With this in mind

I need to pull away now

Before things become even more

Out of hand.

                                    You do not deserve me.

                        Your feelings are not strong.

            You do not understand

                        Your own motivations.

So before I become

Tiresome

Irksome

                        I will run

                        I will hide

            But I will

Not

                                    Cry.

Optimism vs. Pessimism

He will come back.

It's nothing;

Just him trying to protect

Himself and you.

I'm dying,

Of course he's not coming back.

There's something wrong

With you and your soul

So stop being so sentimental.

Shriveling,

Don't listen to that.

You know you're amazing,

And he does too.

Or he should.

And no one knows.

Don't listen to that.

How many times have you been hurt?

You know the truth

That he doesn't actually care.

Abandoned,

Stop lying to her.

By everything I had hoped (feared),

Only if you do.

Here in the corner

I'm not lying

You are.

As I'm torn

Darling,

That is a deliberate untruth.

Side to side

You're only making her

Feel even worse.

Until nothing is left.

You're only going to make her

Feel even worse later.

Oh, Look, I'm Back

It's past noon on Christmas Day, and I still haven't opened any presents. This is what happens when you stay up past 4 AM talking to someone who really should have better sense and tell you to shut up and go to bed because you've been awake since 6 AM the previous day.

My parents went to breakfast with aunt and uncle, you see, leaving me home alone with a bunch of presents I WANT TO OPEN SO MUCH but that I refuse to even look at so as not to tempt me further.

Okay. That's like the fourth time that's happened. My phone goes off, I go to open the message, it's either a picture message or a mass Merry Christmas text, and my phone will deduct the minute required to open it, then say, "Network is unavailable" or "System locked". What the hell? WHO KEEPS SENDING ME STUFF? I don't like mass texts. I don't like picture texts, unless they're of something awesome.

ANYWAY.

It's really difficult to update when everything that's happened to you is something YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO TALK ABOUT, for some reason or other.

What I can talk about:

I'm going to Disney World in two weeks! Well, actually, in exactly two weeks, it will be the last day of my trip to Disney World. But STILL. I'm so excited! I've never been before, and I plan on doing everything.

You see, I'm going with my best friends Carter and Krystal. We're going to share a room at a resort hotel, and Carter has our whole itinerary planned out. He goes to Disney World like every year, so he knows all the best stuff to do. This is the biggest thing we've done as a group.

The only part that sucks is that our other best friend, Emily, won't be going.

I mean, the four of us were pretty much inseparable throughout high school. We had our fights and issues and stuff, but we always forgave each other and went back to normal very quickly. But, ever since we went to college and Emily joined a sorority, she's been getting more and more distant.

Last year, our freshman year of college, she didn't really talk to us or keep in touch. When we all got together for break, it took a lot of work on my, Krystal's, and Carter's end to make it happen. SHE used to be the one planning all of our visits and outings. And when we did get together, she didn't seem particularly happy or interested in being there.

This year, I haven't heard from her pretty much at all. I've tried texting her, sending her messages on Facebook, but... nothing. She'll give perfunctory answers to my questions, but won't start any real conversations. When we told her about Disney World, which we'd all been planning on doing since junior year of high school, she said she wouldn't be able to go, no matter what dates we picked.

It's just.

I always thought that Krystal would be the one to drift off, because she's forgetful and gets wrapped up in her stuff very easily. I thought Emily would be the one making sure we all stayed together. But it's the opposite.

For someone who rarely ever misses people (even as a kid, when my momma would ask if I missed her after I had been away at camp or whatever, I would say no), I really miss Emily. She's been there for me through a lot, and I've been there for her. I guess, really, I'm just worried about her.

Oh well.

Wow, that was sort of depressing. Sorry.

Here, to cheer you all up:

MERRY CHRISTMAS! :)

I Am a Cat

Mike, a friend of mine who writes for a newspaper, and I decided a couple weeks ago that I am, for all intents and purposes, a cat in human form.

Let me elaborate.

Last night, at Dungeons and Dragons, I could not get comfortable. So, as I don't care one whit about decorum or dignity, I moved around from position to position until I felt comfortable.

I believe that I went from kneeling on the floor with my torso in the chair and my chin on the back to laying on the floor with my feet in the chair to sitting upside down in an armchair with my feet over the back and my head near the floor.

That last one nearly made it as my permanent position, but it didn't really work because I would have to get up and roll dice eventually. As a result, I got up and went back to my chair, sitting like a normal person. That didn't really ring my chimes, though. In a stroke of good luck, Daniel got up from his chair and went to the armchair that I had vacated. This left his chair open and mine for the taking!

I stuck one leg onto the chair, then slid it through the gap between the back and the seat. It was a folding chair, so this made it close up on my leg. Lo and behold, I'd found my perfect position!

Of course, everyone thought I was crazy and that the position couldn't possibly be comfortable all because it LOOKED awkward. In reality, it was fine and wonderful and I wonder why I hadn't sat like that before.

So, point number one for being a cat: I end up in strange positions that don't look comfortable, and I am perfectly content and happy.

Other reasons I am a cat: I want affection when I want it and on my terms, and no time else. This really only comes into play when I'm in a relationship of some sort. Unlike most females at or around my age, I don't have any desire to be around my current boy-toy all the time. In fact, I'd really prefer he not be around unless I ask him to come over. I don't need to talk to him (or anyone else) every day, or see him every day, or even every other day. I'm just fine with whenever I get the desire to interact with him.

When something flies past me, my first instinct is to swipe at it.

I am easily distracted by colourful, bright things that move. On the reverse of that, I am also able to sit and stare at something for hours when the mood strikes.

I am extremely picky about whom I like, and in general hate most people. Or, at the very least, have no desire to interact with them.

As most of my friends will tell you, I am a touch conceited (or self-assured, as my second momma tells me) and think that most people are beneath my notice.

Finally, I love sleeping at all hours of the day.

I'm sure there are other ways I'm catlike, but I'm too lazy and ready for a nap right now to think of them. So I think I shall drink some milk and get ready for bed instead.

What is Love?

But before we delve into THAT intense question, take a look at a few of my newest dinosaur-themed acquisitions!

As you can see, I have a triceratops pillowpet, a velociraptor stuffie, some AWESOME erasers, and dinosaur bed sheets. They are magnificent and I will treasure them forever.

Now, onto the interesting stuff!

Today at church, there was a wedding during the service. Afterward, for Sunday School (which I help lead now), we had a discussion about love and at what age can one truly fall in love and all sorts of stuff. I had started thinking about all of that during the sermon, so I was super prepared! And now I want to share my thoughts on love.

I'm sure some of you remember my previous post about love. If not, here's a link. Basically, I just go through the three typical views on love - but what IS it? How do you know when you're in love?

Well. My personal opinion (and I know it is extremely biased because of my biological father and his lack of contact with me) is that you are in love when you know that were you to have children, you would want it to be with that person. You want to have half your DNA bound with theirs for all eternity. You want your children to be THEIRS and YOURS so that you always have that tie with them, no matter what.

Whether or not you're READY for children is a totally different story. I do think one can be in love without wanting children; I'm just saying that if you happened to, well, at least it was with this person and not someone else.

Of course, I'm a complete cynic and I'm not sure I'll ever fall in love. Part of it has to do with the fact that I don't think anyone could fall in love with ME, but the other part of it is that I'm not sure I could trust someone that much. When you love people, they hurt you. They leave, they always leave, whether through choice or death or something else. So really, I don't want to be in love.

But, of course, I DO want to fall in love. Almost every girl plans her wedding, and I certainly did mine (although not to the extent of others. The most I know is that it's going to be outside; either at the beach or in the forest, and I for sure am not wearing shoes). And I definitely want kids, which I don't plan on having until I'm married. That plan is pretty much fool-proof, considering I refuse to have sex until then as well.

It's all very confusing, and society makes it even worse. If you don't get married and have kids or at least have a significant other, you are considered a failure. I always thought I'd be married almost right after college; now, with it only a few years away, I don't think that's going to happen. I mean, come on, I've had one real boyfriend. ONE.

Glen, the guy who runs Sunday School and with whom I am participating in Tough Mudder, met his wife and started dating her when they were 14. He told her he loved her on the second day he knew her. They got married when he was 19 and she was 21, and they've been together ever since. That sort of thing doesn't happen often, and personally if a guy told me he loved me when we'd only been together two days, I would leave him before you could say "dependency issues".

So, what does this all amount to? 

I want to fall in love, but doubt that I ever will.

And dinosaurs are awesome.

What It's Like to Have a Phobia

I thought about this last night for some reason, so I figured I'd do a blog post about it.

People are always curious when they find out that I have a real, debilitating phobia. They wonder what it's like to have a panic attack, and they all seem to think that they can "reason" me out of it, as if I haven't heard it 95 billion times before.

Something that irritates me, though, is when someone says they have a phobia when they really mean that they're just scared of something. When I mention that I have a phobia of, erm, Evil Things (go here if you don't know what I'm talking about), many say, "Oh, yeah, I'm terrified of those as well."

No, they're not. Of all the people I've talked to who have said that, not a single one actually has a phobia. Sure, they don't LIKE the Evil Things. Sure, they're a little scared of getting shots. But they don't have panic attacks, they don't have horror stories of punching nurses and curling into the fetal position under a chair.

The difference between just being scared of something (and even really scared) and having a phobia: you can still function if you're scared. You can breathe. If you can still scream at full volume, I argue that (unless you're getting murdered or something) you aren't actually suffering from the sort of fear someone with a phobia faces.

Another irksome thing is when people, because so many say they have a phobia when they don't, assume I'm just being dramatic. Nurses and doctors that do this are especially bothersome. If I tell you that I'm going to freak out, don't act surprised when I do JUST THAT. And, for the love of God, don't say afterward, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I KNOW it wasn't so bad. I KNOW that my reaction is irrational. I KNOW that I'm still alive, and fine, and actually better off for it. That's what makes this a PHOBIA. It doesn't matter about the logic; all that matters is the complete and utter terror I feel.

So, what IS a panic attack like? If you read the New Year's post I linked to, you get a small taste of what happens. The hyperventilating, the crying... But let me see if I can bring you into my world for a second.

It's the day before your doctor's appointment. Thinking about it makes you nauseated, because you can't remember the last time you were vaccinated, so surely the time is nigh and you're bound to get inoculated. All day, you feel sick, with nausea and sweating and chills.

The day of, you sit in the doctor's office, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. You speak tersely to the nurse, trying to get it all done with as fast as possible. When she mentions the Evil Things, a small whimper ripples through your throat, and you shudder. As soon as she leaves to go get her Supplies of Doom and Horrific Awfulness, you stand up. Unfortunately, you're now too old to have your mother come along, so it's all up to you and your bravery to stay even though every atom in your body screams for you to run.

Still standing, quivering with the urge to sprint away as fast as possible, you start to feel sweat roll down your back even though you feel far too cold to be sweating. For some reason, you can't seem to breathe, and you hear this loud, rasping noise. After a moment, you realize you're the cause of that sound, and that you're hyperventilating. The world around you is a blur; nothing seems in focus and your body is shaking much more violently and you can feel your lungs taking in oxygen BUT NOTHING IS WORKING and your nostrils are flared in an attempt to get more air BUT STILL NOTHING WORKS and you start to cry.

The tears are a strange mixture of hot and cold. They burn your eyes, but once they roll down your cheeks they feel icy, just like the rest of you. You can feel all semblance of composure slipping away and in an effort to catch it you fall to the ground in the fetal position, because it is far too late for you to run now. As you're hunched there, still unable to breathe, your sobs increasing the speed and volume of your hyperventilation, you  sort of rock back and forth and try to tell yourself that you're FINE, YOU'RE FINE, YOU WILL BE OKAY but nothing soothes you, nothing can soothe you.

Maybe, if you're intellectually inclined, you start muttering numbers and equations because there's something about their cold remoteness that is attractive to your panicking mind. But still it DOESN'T WORK, because NOTHING WILL EVER WORK and you just know that this time, this time, you will die because your LUNGS ARE WORTHLESS and it HURTS and BY GOD this is even worse than what you remember.

This whole time feels like quite a while, but really only a few minutes have passed and the nurse has returned with the Evil Things. Your eyes, so useless just seconds ago, focus in on that so quickly you're left delirious and it stands out so clear that it's like you've never seen anything before, not really, and this is the only real thing you've ever seen in your entire life.

If you thought your panic before was impressive and terrible, you are wrong, so wrong. Seeing the Evil Thing, having it be in the same room as you, makes you wish you could scream. As it is, you make a pathetic, dying mouse sound that is more pitiful than anything else. Your chest heaves faster and faster, because apparently you still can manage to hyperventilate at a quicker rate than before, and that had felt nearly impossible even then.

Hopefully, you're lucky and this nurse knows that you've got a phobia. This isn't your first visit to the office, so she isn't surprised to find you curled up on the floor having a panic attack. She somehow gets you to stand; you're not sure how, because you don't have control of your body. You are watching her from beyond you, you are not there, all you know and feel is terror and panic and lack of oxygen. Once you're on the stupid crinkly sheet on the stupid grey bed, she forces you into the supine position. When she turns to get her Evil Thing, you manage to curl back up.

This whole time, she's talking in such a calm voice with such calm words and you don't understand a single damn thing. She takes your arm and you clench up. With gentle yet authoritative hands, she chafes your arm until it relaxes, and you start crying even harder now, not caring that you're getting snot all over your face. Before you can try to stiffen or pull away again, she rubs the alcohol on you.

If you thought you felt cold before, you are wrong, so wrong. Just one touch of that swab of Terrible Omens freezes right down to the bone. You know what this means, you remember, and you start gibbering and trying to escape again. The nurse realizes that she might need a little help, so she calls in some reinforcements. Once you're properly restrained by additional nurses, and you start whimpering alternately with the gibbering, the most awful thing imaginable happens.

It is in you. IT IS IN YOU. The sound you make is half scream, half mewl, and you bite your lip until it bleeds. Though it only lasts a second, every moment feels like an eternity. When it's gone, and the nurse bandages you, and tells you how brave you are and how easy it was, all you can feel is utter despair because once again, you have failed to keep yourself safe. Once again, you faced the worst danger in all the universe.

The nurses leave to give you a few minutes to collect yourself after handing you some tissues. You can feel yourself calming down now, can begin to breathe again, but the tears are taking a while to stop. Every time you glance at your arm and the bandage covering up the Evil Mark, you cry a little more and give weak, shaky breaths.

Eventually, you are calm once more. When the nurse returns, you give a watery smile and apologize. You feel ashamed of yourself, humiliated that you are so easily thwarted and turn into a pile of mush without any real cause. By the end of the appointment, however, you are normal and fine, so long as you don't look at your arm.

Not every panic attack happens like this. Some are easier to recover from than others; some are more violent (if I'm surprised by it, I have a tendency to lash out, usually with my fists). If I don't actually see the Evil Thing, if someone just talks about it in detail, I can usually manage to leave the room - although I'll get nauseated and start the process of hyperventilating.

If I happen to have a panic attack around you (or anyone else happens to, for that matter), the best thing to do is keep calm. What works for me is giving me a hand to hold on to, and making me breathe with you. As difficult as it is, try to keep my eyes on yours, and talk to me soothingly. Afterward, don't talk to me about how brave I was, or something; just continue holding my hand, maybe stroke my hair, and let me calm down in silence. This may not work for everyone, but it's what I've found helps me the most.

This Post Isn't About You, Don't Worry.

As SOMEBODY is a little bothered by the fact that I talk about him so much, I figured I would change up the theme for today. (Yes, I'm looking at you. Be ashamed. You should be flattered that I find discussing you more interesting than work, or school.)

I'm kind of getting irritated with the school counsellors. They haven't returned my emails, and I really don't have any time to drive up to the campus before or after work. Considering the offices are only open WHILE I'M AT WORK. How irritating.

I just want to get my major switched so that I can know what classes to take for next semester, as I was supposed to sign up for them A MONTH AGO.

Tidewater Community College creates so much rage in me, you guys. You don't even know. I JUST WANT TO WRITE AND EDIT, YOU GUYS. WHY IS THIS SO HARD?

In other news, I nailed down the major plots for a 12 book series I've been letting percolate for a while now. Work gets so boring that if I happen to forget a book, I get some scrap paper and either doodle or write. Those two poems I wrote, were written on the front of an envelope and three sticky notes.

(Yes, they were about you, now get over it. My poems are extreme exaggerations of any emotions I'm feeling, so it's not that serious. Writing helps me move on from things, and you know what? Krystal is raging at you right now. She just said, "I want to beat him in the head with a bat made of metal with spikes on it." Her rage is gratuitous, yes, but hilarious as well.)

YOU KNOW WHAT? Screw this. I will blog about what I want to blog about, and people will get over it.

I wish Daniel would just TALK to me HIMSELF about all of this instead of going to mutual friends. I wish that he didn't think I'm some dandelion of a girl that can't handle whatever he's going to say that might "hurt [my] feelings."

I also wish that certain friends (and there are more than one) didn't act like they know everything and I'm simply overreacting. If OTHER PEOPLE didn't postulate the theory that he liked me, and not when I've brought it up or anything, it probably wouldn't matter so much. But they have, and so I'm stuck here confused and bewildered.

It's midnight. I'm going to bed now.

UPDATE: In case y'all couldn't tell, I'm a little frustrated. It made my sarcastic side come out. But my points are still valid, at least to me.

You remember how I said I wasn't going to fret over this? Looks like it's harder said than done when other people bring it up after I've already vented on here. CONSOLE ME, ANNA KARENINA, WITH YOUR AWESOME LANGUAGE AND FOREIGN IDEAS. And if Anna Karenina can't, I guess I'll be moving on to a new book.

I Wrote Two Poems Today!

You guys are getting so spoiled this week, with so many posts! I expect lots of Christmas presents in return.

But here are my poems. If you're quick, you might notice a... parallelism with a previous poem in one of them. Of course, now that I've pointed it out, your noticing is less impressive and I frown at you.



Winter Morning

Our breath, in fiery
Plumes exhaled,
Dancing through the morning,
Intermingling,
Daring to touch while we
Refuse to partake.

To be those plumes,

To be mist, so

Unafraid to caress, then

Part, no worse for wear.

The flames of sunrise,

Heating and illuminating,

Strike our cheeks and

Stain them a red

Beyond our humiliation

At our cowardice.

Take your forgiveness,

I'll keep my nonsense

Articulated through quotes

Just brushing the understanding

With tickling feathers.

Such Callous Decimation

The marble, scattered across the floor,

.....................................Shards sleeping with dust,

.....................Remembers the statue she once was -

.........Cold, immobile,

Immune.

Broken and alone, the only

..............Company her own ruined fragments,

When suddenly,

.............................................................................The faux sculptor appears

............................................................................To play in the wreckage.

How dare he -

Her demolition came at his hands.

........................It is hers now,

..............................................Hers alone.

.................He destroyed her,

.................His clumsy strokes

.............................................Cracking into her soul,

.................Creating fault lines

...................................That turned her

.................................................................From statue to dust.

She feels his fingers

...................Sifting,

...................Searching

..................................For pieces large enough to admire

...................................................And accidentally rub out of existence.

What's left of her

.................................Soul

...................................Wishes to shy away -

But her perfidious scraps

....................................................Strain to reach him

......................................................................To turn him into

....................................................................................................A sculptor worthy of

...............................................................................David.

It will not happen.

..............She ought to return

..............To her marble throne.

No matter how small

.....................................No matter how broken

...............................................It is better

..........................................................................................Than his pretension.

Forget About It!

I've decided that I actually DON'T care about all this Daniel stuff. It's not worth it. I barely have time to write or read as it is, so why waste my time fretting over some boy who I'm pretty sure doesn't like me? My pride is much too much for that.

So instead of asking him on Tuesday like I'd been planning to as of last night, I'm just going to go along my merry way. If, somehow, he comes up to me and confesses attraction to me,  I'll deal with it then. Otherwise, unless something MAJOR happens or he aggravates me, I'll continue being me and not caring.

Although, maybe I'll just kiss him randomly for amusement. It'd be hilarious, that's for sure. At least, I would find it hilarious. Not a very good idea, probably, but so amusing that it's ALMOST worth it. If he sits super close to me again, it's happening. I'll warn him, first, telling him that if he doesn't BACK OFF I'm going to kiss him. As he's a boy and stupid/desperate, he won't believe me (probably, although he might because he has known me long enough to know that I do what I say I'll do), and then... BAM.

It'll be quite raucous that night, I'm sure.

Anyway.

In other news, I have no other news. All I do is work, eat, sleep, and attend class.

Oh!

I DID just email the counsellor at TCC to find out if they can switch my major without my being in the office. Here's hoping. I'm lazy.

And, that's it. I just wanted to let y'all know my decision. Ta ta for now, darlings.

UPDATED: Sigh.

Remember that confusion and such I told y'all about in my last blog post? (And yes, you ARE getting two posts in one week, you lucky ducks!) IT'S ONLY GOTTEN WORSE.

Oh, you'd like details, would you? You nosy little buggers. Okay. Well.

Last night, I went to Patrick's house straight from work. This meant that I was in a spandex mini-skirt (it's much less hooker/strippery than it sounds, I swear. It's not that mini) and a tight, red tank top (once again, it sounds so much worse typed out... of course, at work, I have an over-shirt that has the company's logo, so I simply removed that). As the skirt had generated a lot of comments at work, I figured it probably would at Dungeons and Dragons as well.

But we'll get to that later. We're going in chronological order here, guys.

So Patrick and I vlogged, and Daniel arrived shortly thereafter. He said nothing about the skirt, thank goodness. We all went to dinner, and sat at the biggest table (it was a Tuesday night, they were dead. So we weren't being rude). Daniel barely ate, but Patrick and I showed off our impressive ability to eat enough for a small army.

When we got back to the apartment, we still had time before the rest of the group arrived. We played Rock Band. Before we started, while Patrick was in the bathroom, I was readjusting my bobby pins because they had gotten loose. Daniel looked at me and said, "What are you doing?" I told him, and he said, "Well, I think you should just leave them out."

Of course, I gave him an incredulous look because my hair is unruly and bobby pins keep it from turning into a giant mass of tangles and curls. So, sensibly, I asked, "Why?"

He got all flustered and ended up basically saying that he liked the way my hair fell when it was loose.

Now, I don't know about y'all, but that seems to me like a bit of an admission to attraction. Unless I've ASKED the guy for his opinion, I've never had one that wasn't interested in me tell me what he thought about my hair.

But let's move on, shall we?

So Kevin and Sam arrive, but we were still waiting on Brandon. We put up Rock Band, and I sat on one end of the couch. Kevin sat on the other end. For a while, Daniel just sort of stood, glancing at the spot left on the couch, as if debating. Then, he took the plunge, and sat down between us. And when I say that, I mean that he sat almost on top of me, like, I had to lean away so that we weren't touching.

When he first sat down, he put his arms around both Kevin and me, not touching, but still. I, being the person that I am, looked at him with all WTF I possess. Though he removed his arm, he did not move away from me. For about ten minutes, I leaned away because I'm not a big fan of being that close to someone when there's no... you know... gratification from it. (Although I mean that in a friendly way, not even necessarily a sexual way.) But then I gave up, because maybe he would realize how damn close he sat if I didn't try to make it less awkward.

It didn't work. It wasn't until Patrick pointed it out that Daniel moved over.

Then Brandon arrived, and we started playing. It was fun, and I got to hit things with my sword. My skirt came up in conversation a few times, but nothing too bad was said. Daniel seemed surprised that I would wear a skirt to work. It's really not that uncommon, I don't think.

So at the end of the night, as I said goodbye to everyone, Daniel made a comment about me leaving. As he'd been snide all night, I of course challenged him, and he accepted. I marched over and shoved him, not hard, because he's more breakable than a glass vase. He said we should chest bump (I'm not sure why, but, you know, boys). We did, and it's sad because my chest only reached the top bit of his stomach.

He (sorta?) walked me to the door. It was more to make a point from the game than anything else, but it was still a little weird.

So yeah. I'm definitely confused. BUT I REFUSE TO WORRY ABOUT IT TOO MUCH. Worrying produces wrinkles, you know.

UPDATE: I forgot two things this morning, mostly because I had to type this up before work and I had to leave and I was all "DON'T CARE NEED MONEY", so... yeah.

In relation to my skirt (which one coworker said "[I] wear the hell out of"), Daniel, near the end of the night, exclaimed, "There's a zipper on your butt!" Being as sarcastic as I am, I said, "Duh, it's spandex. How did you think I got it on?" As he's a boy, he assumed I just pulled it on - and that's true with other skirts, but not with spandex! It would get bunched up.

Furthermore, during dinner at Red Robin, Daniel tried to convince Patrick to get this super expensive camera - as in it starts at $25,000. Patrick said that he'd only spend that much money on a camera that mainly Daniel would use if Daniel stripped naked and posed (Patrick is gay, obviously, in case I hadn't told y'all before). Excited that it would be that easy to get what he wanted, Daniel turned to me and asked, "What could I get from you if I posed naked?" Because I have no desire to see him naked (or at least not enough to actually make it worth mentioning), I said, "Nothing."

I'm such a killjoy. :)

I Tried to Post This Sooner, I Swear

It's Thanksgiving today, and I've finally found time to blog. I'm soooooo sorry for neglecting y'all!

Haha, that was the opening I started on Thanksgiving, but then my parents needed me to go to the grocery store and buy gravy. It was something about the previous gravy being burned, or whatever. I don't know. I don't cook. When I got back from the store, the family was here and I had to get ready for work and I didn't have time to come back to this, because I got like no sleep from then until now.

BUT I'M BACK NOW, SO BE HAPPY.

Life is... interesting. Those of you who are subscribed to me on YouTube (which I've also been neglecting) know that I've started playing Dungeons and Dragons on Tuesday nights. Guess who with?

Wrong. Not a unicorn. That would be much cooler.

I'm playing with Patrick and Daniel. Yes, THAT Daniel. Is this a good idea? I've no idea yet. We get along just fine, because I'm the type of person who only gets tetchy if the other person does. Of course, I was a bit worried about awkwardness, but considering that I'm stuck in a permanent awkward state, this wouldn't be too surprising or anything I couldn't handle.

However...

A few things bother me. Daniel has a tendency to say things that confuse me. In that he says things that hint at being attracted to me on some level, when he said he's not. Things along the lines that he wishes all girls were like me. NEWS FLASH, if all girls were like me, HE WOULDN'T LIKE THEM. But I digress.

He also checks me out on occasion, which isn't all THAT surprising because no matter his opinion on my personality, there's no denying that I am physically attractive. Still, though. You'd think he'd be a bit more discreet about it.

I invited my friend Brandon to join us for Dungeons and Dragons, because he's always wanted to play and asked if he could come. After asking our dungeon master for permission, I brought him along. Daniel's response (not while Brandon was there, thank goodness) was to ask me if I were going to bring everyone who asked to join us. While he seemed to be kidding, he DID act standoffish with Brandon most of the night.

When I talked to Brandon afterward, Brandon said that Daniel FOR SURE liked me. That all of his expressions and attitudes and stupid things he did to get my attention were definite signs. Of course, I laughed at this theory, but it percolated in my brain for a while and I got a little paranoid.

What if he DID like me? What would I do? Because I wasn't sure of my own feelings (I didn't think I liked him, although I still found him physically attractive - those teeth, man, they do something to me), I had to talk to Krystal.

She's of the opinion that he DOES like me, that he always DID like me, and never STOPPED liking me. She thinks he's just too stupid and proud to say or do anything about it.

Now, of course, I've spoken with Patrick about it. He disagrees with Krystal and Brandon's assessment, and thinks that Daniel just doesn't realize what he's doing. I think this likely, and hope it to be the case. More than likely, we'll never know. I don't plan on asking him (because that would make it look like I'm interested in him again, and I'm NOT, I'm NOT), and he's not the type to say anything about it.

Anyway. I've been fretting over this, wondering what I'm feeling and hoping that it's all just in my head so that I can just ignore it and focus more on, you know, writing and reading and singing and all the other things I actually enjoy.

So, I'm sure you're wondering what I'm feeling, and I'll try to sum it up for you.

I'm confused. I do not like Daniel again, mostly because I don't trust him or what anyone claims to know about him. I do still find him physically attractive, and would not mind his mouth on mine (or his teeth on my skin, but that's probably not normal and I'll pretend I didn't say that), but that is the extent of any romantic feeling toward him. If it turned out that he does like me (and actually, you know, says it to me), I'd probably go into shock, or cry, and tell him that it wouldn't work out and he should just leave me alone.

Overall, I just really wish that this could all go away. I don't like worrying that I might start liking him again. I don't like worrying that I might not start liking him again if he does like me, and I'll end up hurting him. I hate, HATE hurting guys when they like me. It rips me to shreds inside.

Oh, I almost forgot. Daniel commented on a couple of my statuses on Facebook. One of which was a status about how my daddy, grandpa, and uncle set the bar too high for any boy to really win my affection. (Note, when I say affection, I mean in a way more than simply liking a guy and wanting to date him.) He first said "Damn." Then, immediately after, "Oh, wait." I have no clue what this means, if he was talking about my status, about the comment above his, and what it would mean in relation to either one.

Apparently, this upset Josh. (Patrick told me this the other day, while we were at Waffle House at like 2 in the morning.) Well, not upset him, but irritated him. WHY, I have NO FREAKING CLUE. Patrick didn't explain it particularly well, saying something about it being because it was DANIEL, not because it was ME, and I don't know what that means, so I just rolled my eyes and gave a skeptical laugh.

Anyway. That's just stuff I've been dealing with. I'm sure all the worrying has added to my lack of writing during this NaNo season (which I've extended into December, ask me if I care). Hopefully it'll all leave me alone soon, so that I can get back to only experiencing stress during The Walking Dead and Haven.

Let's Talk Politics

First things first: I do not support either President Obama or Mitt Romney. My leanings are more Democratic than anything else, but I consider myself an independent.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get down to business. Here in America, the election is on Tuesday. The day after my birthday, in fact. Both candidates for the presidency are pouring all of their efforts into getting swing voters (such as myself) to pick them. Unfortunately, if the others are like me, they're not going to convince anyone of anything.

You see, I'm not voting for either candidate. I suppose if I were held at gunpoint and told to pick one, I would pick President Obama. But as that isn't the case, I'm doing a write-in.

Why am I not just voting for the current president? Because I do not think he has done a swell job running the country. This does not mean that I think he was completely incompetent, like so many do; it means that I think he made mistakes, and I'd prefer he not make them again. He is not capable of getting us out of debt, but neither is Romney.

Why am I not voting for Mitt Romney? For a myriad more reasons than why I'm not voting for President Obama. My liberal leanings make me hesitant to vote Republican, and I'll tell you the two major reasons why.

1) Gay marriage. Do I think homosexual marriage is okay? No. BEFORE you hate on me, let me elaborate. Marriage, as it has been defined by the American people, is a Christian institution. Christians (I'm talking about the general term, I know that there are several denominations with varying beliefs about this topic) believe that marriage is between one man and one woman.

IF America did not define marriage as such, I would not have a problem with gay marriage. As such, however, I do believe that they should be allowed to be joined in a legally binding union that works the same as marriage, but isn't called the same term. We are a country based on religious freedom, and if we force Christianity to do this, it goes against everything America was based upon.

Now, if a particular leader of the clergy within a church wants to perform a marriage ceremony for a homosexual couple, that's fine. He's within his own beliefs. But we cannot make others do the same. It's not a matter of simple words. It's a matter of Heaven and Hell. If someone believes that they will go to Hell for performing such a ceremony, then you have absolutely no right to make them do it anyway.

2) Abortion. Do I think abortion is okay? No. Noticing a theme here? According to my beliefs, I do not approve of killing another person, no matter their cell count. However, it is stupid to think that outlawing abortion is a good idea.

People will still get them. If someone does not want that baby, they will find a way to get rid of it. They will either get one done illegally (which can result in being barren, infection, and even death) or find another way to abort the fetus. Have you seen Law and Order: SVU? There's an episode where a girl gets her boyfriend to beat her with a lamp until the baby dies. That may sound over-dramatic and brutal, but I do not think it outside the realm of possibility.

Furthermore, in cases of rape and incest, I cannot say that I think abortion is absolutely the wrong thing to do. Unless you have been in that situation and felt that particular psychosis, you have no right to tell them that they are going to Hell or are murderers. If you can, then I'm sorry that you are incapable of compassion.

When it comes to cases where it's women who decided to have sex before they were ready to have children, I absolutely think they should not have abortions. If you think you are mature enough to have sex, then you must think you are mature enough to take care of a child. There are no excuses to be made here.

I do have an issue with tax money paying for abortions. Unless it is in the case of rape or incest, I think that the woman wishing to abort her baby should pay for it.

So there you have it. My current political views. I am not the person watching every debate, reading every news article. I only know the difference between a Democrat and a Republican because of AP Government, which I took over two years ago. I will never claim to know the details, but I do know the big picture. And it isn't very pretty for either side.

Hello There, Old Friends.

And young friends. And middle-aged friends. Friends of all ages, really.

I've been sooooper busy lately, what with two jobs and school and YouTube and reading and writing. You see? Look how many ands I used. That means I'm way too busy to remember to check my blog all the time.

Okay, okay. I know, it's no excuse. If I have time to check Facebook ten times an hour, I have time to write a blog entry. I'll be more diligent, I promise!

This past weekend, I was sick. It was no fun, except for the chance to play Pokemon. I still don't have the latest version, so if you love me enough, you'll get it for me. Right? How about if I trade it for more blog entries? Deal? Deal.

So, I've got my own personal hater on YouTube now. It's kind of awesome. This chick (I'm assuming it's a girl, as the screen name is "officeblonde") really has a problem with me. She said that I have "drivelling, drawling and snobbish claims to literary grandeur." I've never said that I'm that great of a writer. She's actually referencing my proclivity to read classics - Faulkner and Steinbeck and Hemingway. I'm not sure why she thinks that's a bad thing...

Anyway, it's quite amusing to have her make all sorts of stupid comments on a couple of my videos. I respond as nicely as I can, but sarcasm is an automatic thing for me, so I don't really succeed all that well. Not that it bothers me.

I've been working on a sort of logo for my channel, too. As I haven't really drawn in years, it's taken me quite a while, and I'm nowhere near done. I got the easy part done; now I have to draw and colour the rainbow fire, and cut it all out. Want a preview? Here's what I've got so far.

I actually coloured it tonight. I think it turned out all right. If you look closely, you'll see the letters spelling out my channel on the side. Soon they'll be coloured black, then surrounded by rainbow fire. It'll be beautiful. While I really like this concept, I'm finding that a LOT of people use the T-Rex thing. You know, putting their name, then -saurus rex. Ah well. Too late to change it now.

Continuing with YouTube news, I have no way to edit videos, and it's frustrating me to no end. I can't DO anything! I have a sketch idea, and I can't use it because I can't edit. Ugh. My computer is stupid, and I'm saving up for a laptop so that it'll already have some software in place.

In other parts of my life, there isn't much going on. I'm trying to find a Halloween costume. I originally wanted to be a grown-up Wednesday, and I'll still use that for my friend's party, but I don't think the costume is appropriate for work. I'm going to go costume shopping soon. What do y'all think of a slightly risqué Dorothy?

Look, a Post! You Haven't Seen One of These in a While.

Oh mylanta I've ignored y'all so long!

PLEASE FORGIVE ME!

Please?

Look, I'm pouting. You should forgive me. Oh, you do? YAY!

Look, you made me happy again!

Anyway.

I've been really busy with work, and with figuring out YouTube. I know, I know, I said I wouldn't forget y'all if I started a YouTube channel, but I'm forgetful. You shouldn't have believed me.

What's going on in my life right now:

Working two jobs is tiring, but nice.

I haven't written in ages, but that is about to change, because NaNoWriMo is around the bend. I'm thinking about just working on my current WIP. I'd start the count November 1st, although it won't be the beginning of the story. As I have quite a bit of story to do, this would be pretty feasible.

I'm watching FAR too many YouTube videos, all of which star Toby Turner (aka Tobuscus), Jack Douglass, or Sean Klitzner. They're easily some of the funniest guys online. Cute, too.

My friend Brandon and I are working on a music video for the Civil Wars song "20 Years". It's for a contest, where the winner becomes the official video, and gets $5,000. It's going to be epic. I'm using East of Eden by Steinbeck as inspiration.

And that's it.

Author Interview

I'm a day late, but I've never been known for my ability to remember things... I'd actually had it ready to go, too! This is what happens when I don't procrastinate.

What is the working title of your book?

The Malfeasance. It's SUPER tentative right now, as I'm not sure how I feel about having a title starting with "the" when I have a plan for a series where they all do as well. They're not similar at all, so I don't want any confusion for my readers.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I'm about to get so much hate right now... It actually came from a story a friend of mine was writing. Basically, what happened is that I saw a certain aspect of her storyline - something important, but that got moved away from rather quickly - and wondered how I could change it. Our stories no longer resemble each other in the slightest, and we both like the directions the other took.

What genre does your book fall under?

Erm. That's a good question, and one I can rarely answer. The easiest answer is urban fantasy, I suppose. It takes place in today's society, just with magic as a common aspect in everyday life. I'm still vacillating between Young Adult and General Fiction, because my main character is 17 but deals with adult issues: rape, murder, the root of evil, etc.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Oh goodness. Another question that I don't have a ready answer for. Mostly because I don't tend to know actors, unless they're 25+ and attractive males. If my characters were older, I'd say Lucas Bryant for the lead male and perhaps Nicole Kidman for the lead female.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Eadrea Reched, accused of several horrific murders, must find the true evil in the world and confront the darkness in her own life to prove her innocence and find happiness for the first time.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Well now, that depends on if I win the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest next year ;) If I do, then obviously I'll be represented by Penguin. If not, then I'll probably go the route of self-publishing after shopping the manuscript around for a while.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I suppose we're counting the very first draft, huh? I never actually finished, although I did get about 40,000 words in. This newest rendition has changed significantly from the first, and I still haven't finished the first draft. I'm about 30,000 words in (and not even to the main meat of the story, which I was at by 20,000 last time around!), though.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Hrm. I can't say that I've read anything quite like what I'm writing, and I don't mean that in the "Oh, aren't I fancy and original" way. I just haven't read something that blurred the lines between Young Adult and General Fiction quite as much as The Malfeasance does.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

A big part of my inspiration is the anger I've held for years, that I know so many people deal with. Anger eats away at a person, and can mould their very existence. I wanted to explore a character who accepts her anger whole-heartedly and doesn't try to fight it, like normal people do. She's angry, she's furious actually, and she will go to extreme measures to show that.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?


There are a myriad of characters in this book, each so different from the last. And while there's definitely a love story that forms a strong part of the plot, it's not typical. There's no real romance, with flowers and declarations and wooing. It's not a choice, or something the characters even want. That will hopefully appeal to those readers who are tired of the same formula over and over again, and who don't believe in typical romance. Readers like myself, that is :)

I Had This Dream, See.

WARRIOR DASH IS SATURDAY!!!

In case you can't tell, I'm super excited.

You all should be as well, because I'll be vlogging the experience; not the run itself, because I don't have fancy/super tough cameras, but the before and after. You'll be able to check it out on my YouTube channel.

Speaking of which, I've started doing book reviews on there. I'm starting off with indie authors, mostly because that's what I've been reading lately. I've got the first one up already, and the next one should be up over the next day or so. I'll still be doing regular vlogs, of course.

In other news, I've got my first tests on Wednesday for this new semester of classes. They shouldn't be too difficult.

Oh, and in a couple days, I'll be participating in the Next Big Thing blog posting! You'll get to hear about my WIP, and see why I'm so excited to get it written.

THAT REMINDS ME.

I had this stellar dream last night. It was weird, but in the awesome I-bet-this-is-going-to-be-a-story way. Wanna hear about it? Of course you do!

So, in my dream, vampires had taken over the world.

Don't huff. I know, there are WAY too many vampire stories out there now. BUT THIS IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT, MY DEARS.

Anyway.

The vampires were the dominate species, with, oh, nearly all humans gone. It seemed like I was the only one left, anyway. I figured out that if I had the scent of blood on my breath, it drove the vampires away. I'm not sure why. I'll have to figure out a plausible reason for that.

With this discovery, it became necessary for me to cut myself and suck my own blood. Not like, blood-gushing-everywhere sort of cutting, just little nicks. The vampires were SUPER pissed that I could keep them from killing or even harming me.

Oh, by the by, they didn't have super speed or super hearing or super anything, really. They drank blood, and had pretty quick reflexes, but overall they were just really mean people.

Anyway.

I parachuted to this mountain top for whatever reason. It's a dream, give me a break! All these people from my church retreats were there, and they were still human. The vampires were letting them live for whatever reason. Well, the vampires didn't like me there, because they all wanted me dead.

Things get hazy now, and I can't really remember what else happened, except in little brief flashes of scenery. There are cabins, and lots of trees, and that's it. One of the vampires becomes my love interest. He had dark brown hair that was really glossy, and brown eyes with blue flecks.

And that's all I remember. If I can finagle some more details, I'm going to see if it wants to be a story.

Vlog

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I've got my vlog up!

If you want to follow me on YouTube, my channel is called "HattiesaurusRex". Yes, it IS the coolest name ever. So far I only have one video, just a little introduction of myself, but I'm going to put up new videos twice a week.

Don't worry, I won't forget about y'all :)

Tough Mudder, and Maybe a Vlog!

Sorry for the super long wait for a new post. I tried to put up a new video, but it didn't want to load any of the million times I tried. It was dumb!

The point of my video: to tell you about Tough Mudder. It's kind of the best race ever, and it's technically not even a race. It's 10-12 miles long, with 25+ obstacles, which are designed by the British Special Forces. Basically, it's Warrior Dash on steroids.

I'm going to be running in it when it comes to town in June. This means I have to REALLY get into shape. I've been running every other day, and doing the "Tough Mudder Boot Camp" the other days. It is kicking my ass. And here I thought I was in pretty decent shape. NOPE.

Some of the obstacles are super intense and awesome, and I cannot WAIT. There's the quarter pipe, which is like a half pipe for skateboarding, but smaller. It's covered in grease and butter and water, and you have to  sprint and jump at just the right time to get over. Most can't, so it turns into a group exercise, with those at the top catching the people jumping. Some people even create human ladders.

There's the giant ice bath, which is a large pool with barricades you have to swim under. If you try to go over, there's barbed wire stopping you. Ice chunks float in the water, and it's kept at about 34 degrees Fahrenheit. This is going to be the worst obstacle for me, because I hate the cold with a passion.

The obstacle that is usually last, and the most intense, electrocutes you. Live wires hang down, with about 10,000 volts running through them. You have to run through them, and there is pretty much no way to avoid electrocution. It's called the "Rated R Zone" because of all the cursing that goes on.

So yeah :)

I cannot wait. It's going to be so much fun, and I know that I'm going to meet some awesome people there. Getting into shape for it is what's going to be the hardest, because I'm pretty lazy.

In other news, I think I'm starting a vlog. It's with Patrick, at least until we find out if he's going to jail or will be denied computer access for a year. If either happens, I'll be all by my lonesome. Otherwise, it's the two of us. I'm not sure what our "thing" is, though. Just being clever, I suppose. We'll see.

Welcome to the Shallow End of the Pool

Time to face facts. Everyone is shallow.

Please stop making that indignant sound. It's undignified. Plus, it's irritating.

Thank you. Now, before you start trying to tell me how you're NOT shallow, take a second to think about what I'm saying.

Everyone is shallow.

Would you like to know why I'm making such a broad statement? Because it's true! No matter who you are, you care about what other people look like, which is the MAIN definition of shallow for most people.

We all, as humans, want to be with someone who is attractive. It's not bad; it's a biological imperative. The more attractive your mate, the more attractive your offspring, which increases your offspring's odds of reproducing, which means your genetics are passed on.

Now, before you start making that indignant sound again and say that you prefer someone who's got a great personality, let me elaborate.

I'm sure you DO prefer people with wonderful personalities. We all do. They're better to hang out with, for sure. You'll have fun, you'll feel great, blah blah blah. This is true. However. If you try to pretend that the way someone looks doesn't matter to you, you're lying to yourself. That is the worst way to lie. If you can't even tell the truth to yourself, who CAN you tell it to?

People don't all agree on who's attractive, you see. The guys I find attractive are not the same guys Krystal finds attractive, and vice versa. Sure, we can both see an attractive guy and think he's such, but we still have different preferences. Her on-again-off-again boyfriend of the past couple years isn't someone I think is attractive, but she thinks he is.

On a large scale, this means that you will always want to be with someone you find physically attractive on some level. They don't have to be THE sexiest, hottest person you've ever seen. They just have to be someone you want to look at.

Everyone seems to think that admitting this makes you a bad person. I disagree. It means that you won't bully yourself into dating someone you aren't attracted to, simply because they're a "great person". That's what friendship is for, people. No matter what anyone tells you, the physical part of a relationship is a big deal.

Besides, what makes you approach someone you've never met before? For nearly everyone, it's attractiveness. The way someone looks is what determines whether or not you will spend your time trying to get to know them. This doesn't mean that we're all going around only associating with "hot" people. It means that the way someone looks, with their facial expressions and body language, interests us.

So yeah, everyone is shallow. Get over it. If you don't think you're attractive, you don't have to put on make-up or dress a certain way. You just have to look like you're a pleasant and/or fun person to be around. Someone, somewhere, will find you beautiful. And that's what we all want, right? Someone who thinks we're  beautiful, and isn't "putting up with" your looks or lack thereof.

Rant about Stupid Books being Stupid

I am, without a doubt, a book snob.

You probably remember me saying this when I said that I don't like reading friends' novels, because if it's bad I have no choice but to tell them and people don't like to hear that their babies are ugly.

Now. My book snobbishness goes to, you know, actual books as well.

Recently, a friend of mine read the last book in the Maximum Ride series. Normally, I would have as well, except I stopped reading the series two books previous. You see, the series went from a very interesting story about genetically modified kids with wings to a horribly written, stupid story about global warming or whatever.

The first three books in the series were great. Max, the narrator, was snarky, independent, and rough around the edges. She avoided showing weakness, no matter what.

Then came the fourth book. Things started devolving then, although it's still better than the last three books. The writing fell off a bit, and the stupid global warming plot came into play. Max and Fang (whom I'm sure you remember from the obsessions post) started being all together and stuffs.

By the fifth book, Max was whiny, annoying, and all around stupid. She had lost that defiant spark. All the characters were acting less and less like themselves - Fang was talking! to people! - and not in the "oh they're developing" way. It was in the "I think Patterson might have hired a ghostwriter from a fanfiction website" sort of way.

The sixth book is when I just set the series down and refused to read any more. Fang was even less himself, Max made me what to stab things, and this stupid Dylan character just made everything even more muddled. At the end of the book, Fang wrote a note saying that he would leave the flock.

Now, Fang from the first three books would have a note that said this: "I'm gone." That's it. Two words. THIS note was like five billion pages (y'all know how I love hyperbole) and full of feelings and whatnot. Fang doesn't talk about feelings. Fang ignores his feelings until he can't any more, does something stupid or reckless because of them, and then goes back to ignoring them.

So yeah, after that, I declared that I would not read another Maximum Ride novel. I just can't stand watching what used to be good characters devolve into idiotic shadows of themselves.

Sorry for the rant. I just. Ugh. Whenever I think about it, it just makes me angry all over again, because COME ON! I loved Fang! He's in FWECKH! (Which stands for Fang Will Edward Cadvan Kartik Heathcliff/Hareton.) And Patterson took him from awesome to stupid in the span of two books. How is that even possible?

Let's Vilify Everyone Because of One Person!

I'm sure y'all have noticed that my posts more or less revolve around either writing or boys. The writing, for obvious reasons. Boys, because most of the people I deal with on a regular basis are of the male persuasion. Plus, boys are fun to talk about.

So let's discuss something that both genders do: vilifying the other gender as a whole, when you've really just had bad taste. Girls, it seems, do this the most often. A boy cheats, and all men become lying scum who want to have sex with anything that moves. However, boys also fall into the annoying stereotyping.

Recently, I met Kyle's friends from college. For those who don't remember, Kyle is my brother who isn't really my brother. His friends are pretty cool. They're funny, and seem on the smart side. I talk to them via Skype, while they all play League of Legends. That's some sort of nerd role-playing game that I really don't understand, nor do I wish to. As they play, I laugh at them when they die, and do my utmost to distract them.

One of his friends, by the name of Hunter, is extremely attractive. We did a video call on Skype once, and he was just darling. He's also extremely funny, doing funny voices and faces much like I do. Whatever character he uses for League, he makes noises/puns in association with it. Y'all know how much I like puns and clever noises.

So naturally, I am attracted to this particular male specimen. Not in a serious way, mind you. After all, I don't really know the kid! I just think that if we got to hang out for any real amount of time, I'd probably be interested in going on a date or two with him. This isn't likely, as he's at CNU for school and lives a few hours away when he's home, and I doubt my parents will approve of me driving up to CNU to hang out with a bunch of guys they don't know. Well, aside from Kyle, anyway.

In trying to find out if he might feel the same way, I've been chatting with his room mate. And apparently, Hunter has had some bad experiences in the recent past. I know nothing about it, nor do I want to hear about the details from a third party. What I DO know is that Hunter has sworn off girls for awhile.

Now, I think that's ridiculous. It's the individual girl that did the bad thing, not all girls. I think girls who do the same thing are also ridiculous. You simply had bad taste, and to push away a perfectly fine person because of what someone else did is stupid.

I can't exactly say that to him, though. His room mate might try to broach the subject when Hunter's feeling a bit loquacious, but I told him not to worry about it too much. I'd rather not waste my time and attention on someone who isn't interested. I'm sure that I could GET him interested if I wanted, but that would take lots of visits to the CNU campus, and lots of primping. No thank you. And like I said, I don't think I'd be allowed to drive up there on the regular anyway.

Pardon Me, I Have to be a Fangirl for a Bit

It's Ozzy's birthday!!

Happy birthday, Ozzy Lusth!

I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN.

WE NAMED OUR TREE OSCAR IN YOUR HONOUR.

YOU'RE PERFECT.

MARRY ME?

PWEASE?

That is all.

Grammar, Spelling, and Style: My Thoughts

You see, I've been editing a friend's story for the past week. His novel (if you can call it that; it's ridiculously short, at 102 pages. Of course, it IS single-spaced *grumble*) is a typical fantasy type; magic, sword fights, unusual creatures. While that's not my genre unless it's remarkably well done, I figured that it couldn't hurt to help him out.

Now. It's not bad, per se. It's just... not good, either. At first I was editing as I read, but it was too annoying. So I did a first read-through, and am now going through for the editing stuff.

Doing this has gotten me thinking that maybe I could become a professional editor. After all, I took two Advanced Placement English classes in high school and got a 4 and 5 on the exams. Those are the two highest scores you can get, for those who don't know. In my final one, the teacher told me that I had an aptitude for examining literature, and for writing of course. Plus, I love to read, and to edit other people's work.

I've got another person asking me to edit his novel once he's done with it, and I agreed.

I figured that as I'm going to be doing this for quite a few people most likely, I'd give a brief synopsis of what I'd be looking for and what I'd be "fixing".

Let's start with grammar. It is my firm belief that a good writer knows the rules of grammar, and not just the basic ones. You have to know them if you wish to use them effectively. Nothing is more distracting than an error in grammar that is obviously unintentional. A fragment can be effective if used correctly, but all too often I see fragments that cannot possibly be used for effect.

Furthermore, I have a few pet peeves. Subject-pronoun agreement is a huge one. Sam is taller than she, not Sam is taller than her. Over and under use of commas is also irritating. And, if you don't know how to use a semicolon, please don't try to. It just makes you look like you're trying to be pretentious. And, for the love of God, do NOT use "since" as a synonym for "because" unless it's a character speaking. In the actual prose, it is incorrect. I do not care that people have started accepting it. It's wrong. Since is a passage of time.

Spelling is more cut and dry than anything else in the writing world. There are correct ways to spell things, and there are wrong ways. Of course, there are still variations. I'm sure you've all noticed that I use the British/Australian spellings of certain words, such as favourite and colour. This is because I find them more aesthetically pleasing. I'm a touch OCD, and having a balanced number of letters makes my eyes happy.

Does this mean that I'll tell someone who's written color instead of colour that they're wrong? No. It'll just jar me out of the story for a second.

Let's move on to style, which is perhaps the most finicky aspect of the writing world. Style is what defines a writer's voice, what makes them different from the million other writers out there. This does not mean that everything is acceptable if you head it as a "stylistic choice".

After all, it is a stylistic choice to write in passive voice. But no one wants to read a book that has 7 out of 10 sentences in passive voice. It's simply not dynamic enough to hold interest. In a similar way, using "to be" verbs in every sentence also grows tiresome. Those would be is and was, dear readers.

Take a look at this sentence:

The girl was running through the forest, tripping over roots and crashing through foliage.

Now, that's not a bad sentence. But now take a look at this one:

The girl sprinted through the forest, tripping over roots and crashing through foliage.

Isn't that more dynamic and interesting? You can use "to be" verbs in your prose, but try to use them sparingly. Sometimes they're unavoidable, after all.

Something writers get told all the time is to move quickly. You don't want a slow story and lose the reader's attention, right? Right. However, there is such a thing as moving too quickly. When that happens, the reader loses the connection with the characters. You're sacrificing character development to keep the plot moving, and that is never a good plan. Even if you're not a character-driven writer (such as Tolkien), you want to keep your readers connected. If there is no connection to the character, most readers will put the book away.

Awkward sentences can hardly be passed off as a stylistic choice, although I've known people who have tried to argue. It's usually the writer of the awkward sentence, surprise surprise. Most often, they disagree that the sentence is awkward. Personally, I don't see how you can not tell. Even with my own prose, I can tell when something is forced and feels awkward.

Writing the way you talk is also a problem. Now, if the story is first person, go right ahead. For third person, however, you simply cannot. Unless you speak the way you write, you cannot write the way you talk. It's too informal, to put it simply. On this blog I write the way I talk, because it is meant to be that way. For my stories, however, there is a distinct difference. Don't believe me? Go here. Read my short story.

UPDATED: Another thing: contractions. In certain stories, it's fine to have contractions within prose. In others, you should avoid them. Fantasy, historical fiction, science-fiction, and literary fiction should really just not have them. Once again, with first person, it's usually fine. Depending on the voice of the narrator for any other story, it can be fine. As a general rule though, I say avoid them.

Now, I'm not sure how I'm going to approach this friend with all of my criticism. He thinks his writing is excellent, which is always annoying. He even said that if there's no "real" reason for the criticism, he will ignore it. If I can't give a definitive reason as to why a sentence is awkward and why he should change it, he won't. That's frustrating.Yes, it is his novel, he can write it how he wishes and does not have to heed anything I say. He can argue that it's just my personal preference.

However. I read a variety of styles. In that last AP English class, we read tons of books that were written in very different ways. And I enjoyed all of them. I can usually tell when something is intentional, and when it's just that you don't know how to write. Or to put it less harshly, when you haven't written or read enough to tell when something is... not wrong, but just awkward.

That's all I've got for today, my dears. Sorry for not posting for so long :)

My Dreams Worry Me, Y'all.

They really do. Although I don't tend to have nightmares (unless I'm on medication and/or I'm ridiculously stressed about something), my dreams are often weird. And that's putting it nicely. When they aren't weird or a nightmare, they focus on some random aspect of my life (usually a person) and play with it.

The last one is what I had last night.

You see, I had a dream about Corin. I know, I know, what a blast from the past! I honestly don't even think about him any more. Well, I do when I run or drive past his house, but that's normal. And it's not even REALLY thinking about him, it's more, "Oh look, there's his house. Glad he doesn't live there now. Ooh, ooh, a bird!"

Anyway.

In my dream, Krystal and I were at his house. Now, this wasn't weird or unexpected; I'm friends with his little sister (who is my age), and I was helping her with some photography stuff. Not with the photography itself, but the storyline behind it. I've done this with her before, in real life.

So, we were chilling upstairs while his sister was downstairs getting something. Being us, we start singing along to The Civil Wars (an excellent duo, you really should listen to them. In fact, I'll put a link to the song we were singing). Then, Corin walks in with Juliet. They both freeze, and then Corin smiles.

I'm a bit flustered, and for obvious reasons. 1) It's Corin, whom I haven't seen in over a year. 2) I had just been singing, and I don't like it for people to hear me sing when I don't want them to. 3) I look a hot mess, what with my over-sized shorts and a tank top.

Corin starts acting like nothing's weird. Juliet looks severely uncomfortable and shoots me dark looks, which is perfectly understandable. We make small talk, and Krystal and I make a hasty exit as soon as it's no longer considered impolite. After saying goodbye to the sister, we leave.

Well, my dad is somehow outside. He thinks that I made this huge mess in their yard (which I didn't, hmph), and demands that I clean it up. Although I try to explain, he doesn't listen. So I clean it up, because it's easier to just go along with what he says.

While I'm out there, Corin comes out. He once again starts talking to me like we're old friends. I'm feeling awkward and just give perfunctory answers. Then Juliet comes outside, and all hell breaks loose.

She starts demanding to know who he thinks he is, to be talking to me like this in front of her. Accusations abound, and I pretty much just sit there on the ground watching this whole thing. I get called a bunch of fun names, but at least Corin does too.

And that's pretty much it. I know there was more to it, but I can't remember now that I'm fully awake. If I recall something later, I'll be sure to add it in.

Now, here's that song:

Enjoy that loveliness.

Savour it.

Because I think they're pretty damn close to perfection.