Saturday, August 20, 2011

HAS IT BEEN A WEEK. HAS IT REALLY BEEN A WEEK.

...

IT HAS.

The sad part is, I am still more or less at loss of what to blog about. Have I done anything particularly exciting in the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours? Have I done anything of note, accomplished anyone exemplary, commendatory, significant, or otherwise blogworthy. Actually, I've been cleaning quite a bit, and earlier in the week I was thinking about cleaning and not doing so.

TOMORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY PARTY! I AM SO EXCITED!  Tomorrow I also need to sweep/mop the floors and clean the bathroom, haha.

It being past eleven, I should probably go to sleep. Good night, friends! Till the morrow!

Saturday, August 13, 2011

The summer is ending!

Well, I said I would write a proper entry today, and so I am. Surprisingly, the last several days haven't been a maelstrom of unproductiveness! That's an oxymoron, but I digress.

As we know, yesterday found me repeatedly jumping up and down, screaming, and forgetting anything else in the world mattered when I FINALLY received my sophomore schedule! I've already commented on that, so I won't go further, but I will say that I have since found out that the chemistry teacher I have is supposed to be insanely difficult or something, and that I've found someone who's in my Latin class! Personally, I'm still looking forward to next year :D I just hope I get to see Shari, and a certain sour boy, more often than what looks likely right now.

I'll also say that getting my schedule has really grounded in the fact that school is starting, and soon. I still have things to do in the summer! Primarily on the list of unaccomplished summer goals are: at least begin the summer reading work (I finished The Life of Pi the other night--it was really good), figure out and buy my school supplies, and get some back-to-school clothes shopping out of the way. As for the first thing, I'm finding it incredibly difficult to motivate myself to do anything at all, let alone school work. The second and third things are for the most part just a matter of going out and buying things.

As for the rest of the summer, I can't imagine it being terribly exciting. I am having a BIRTHDAY PARTY! on the twenty-first, and so far the guest list includes: Dana, Kim, Shari, Vera, Silver, and Happy. I still need to actually invite the last two; Silver is still at camp and Happy I haven't been able to get a hold of. Hopefully, everything will work out! I am really quite excited for this :D

As for my week, pretty much all I've done is write all day and haunt the computer. On Wednesday I went to Great Adventure, and they still didn't have my phone, although we did find out that I left the wrong number for them to call if they found it....heh. Thursday, I had an awful headache, and spent the day grumbling around the house. Yesterday, I went to the mall with Shari! Always fun seeing Shari, of course :D Even though I actually had a decent amount of money, and was kind of planning on spending it all in a bout of fashionable madness, I only got one shirt--although it is a very nice, comfortable shirt, which, were it not faux pas during school, I could see myself wearing all the time...:) I found a pair of jeans which I liked, but I, an insatiable miser, decided to wait and see if twenty dollars would drop to fifteen sometime in the future, and if my parents would then consent to buy it for me. Everything at my mall, with the exception of Forever 21, is unfortunately quite expensive, giving the 80-some dollars I've saved up about the use of pocket change.

Finally, I've been writing more--and less--and so far, I haven't lost interest in my latest story. Usually my interest comes and goes, as I'm sure we all know, so I'm hoping I can actually stick with this one for a decent amount of time before condemning it to the nether regions of my folder.

That being said, I'm quite hungry. I think I'll go get dinner. Au revoir, mon amis :)

Friday, August 12, 2011

SCHEDULES.

YES, WE FINALLY GOT OUR SCHEDULES! THE ONLY THING I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS ENTIRE SUMMER HAS HAPPENED! RAHHHHHHHH!
Period 1- LATIN
Period 2- HEALTH
Period 3- BIOLOGY
Period 4- ENGLISH
Period 5- FUNCTIONS (MATH)
Period 6- U.S. HISTORY
Period 7- FINANCIAL LITERACY
Period 8- CHEMISTRY
WOAH. THIS IS EXCITING. AND ALSO TERRIBLE.

I have NO CLASSES with: Shari, Happy, Up. Unmitigated rage.
I have ONE CLASS with: Lolo, Kim (both U.S. History, hurray!)
I have ONE CLASS with a gym buddy (Lauren) and that class is: Chemistry.
Lauren also is in my creative writing class, which is in the SECOND SEMESTER. Unmitigated rage.
I know NO ONE in: Latin, biology, health, English, math, and financial literacy. For anyone who doesn't care to count, that is SIX CLASSES.
Whoever put me in SECOND SEMESTER creative writing needs to die a SAD, SAD DEATH.
Up is NOT EVEN TAKING CREATIVE WRITING. I TALKED TO HIM. However, he did say he was going to try and switch.

I'LL WRITE A PROPER ENTRY TOMORROW!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I'm obsessed!

I am trying to figure out what exactly compelled me to take two science classes next year, a year which everyone already says is the hardest one. Here are the negatives:
  • I'm taking six core classes instead of five, which will increase the workload and consequently my stress level exponentally.
  • I have a minimum of sixteen labs to do throughout the year.
  • I will have to have two text books and two binders.
  • My dad insists that I'll mix up biology and chemistry at some point during the year.
  • Since most sophomores are taking chemistry, I will most likely be alone in a class full of upperclassmen.
  • Since most sophomores are taking chemistry, no one will be able to help me with classwork.
  • Because I'm taking biology, I'm not taking lunch, or another elective. I'll have no down-time during the day.
I'm sure there's plenty more that I'm not thinking of. Here are the positives:
  • ??
Maybe I want to be an overachiever, even though I'm generally just an achiever. Maybe I'm insane. Yes, that seems likely.

Right before that last paragraph, I installed our new mouse and keyboard, and it is strange to say the least. It's bizarre having a mouse which isn't terrible. Anyway, my days have been boring. I just realized that I forgot to post my last awesome Paint thing! Here it is:

There! I finished it a few days ago, haha.

I think I'll go peruse more Supernatural-themed tumblrs. I'm obsessed.

Monday, August 8, 2011

I'm going to try to write something personal, so if you don't want to read, you don't have to. I just want to put it down somewhere.

I've told you about my latest story. I didn't mention that the main character is almost entirely based off of me. Her heart is broken by everything, even changing clothes, even going to sleep at night, because every little change and every goodbye and every lost moment is filled with unbearable sadness for her. That's me. But she has one philosophy that I didn't realize I had as well, which came out of nowhere as I was writing, which stays with her until almost the very end: it is not enough to love. It is not enough to love someone, no matter how intensely, no matter how deeply and earth-shatteringly you love them, because you cannot save them. The people she loves are lost to her one by one and while before she felt that her love was so vital to her that she could never lose it, now she sees everything which has touched her heart falling away.

I've been writing poetry all day. I'm not a very good poet, but the poems I write, at least most of them, mean something to me--something intense and small and deep, as if I've cut a peice of myself out into them. I write about the fall from grace. I write things in half-words I don't know how to express fully. I write about love overcoming even the previously mentioned fall from grace--because it is love. And I wrote a poem with this story in mind which says, "It is not enough to love."

The peom does not prove it, though. It is a poem about holding on to what has been left behind and holding on to the "above". And yet, because I was writing it with this story and this character in mind, I wrote It is not enough to love. In fact, I repeated it and I made the poem about it, because that is what the story and the character is about. Not holding on to what has been left behind, not reaching for the above, but accepting the sadness of the world and doing just the opposite. Acknowledging, even believing, that it is useless to love someone, because you cannot keep them with you.

And then I wrote another poem. Between my little tales of fallen angels and overcoming love, I wrote a poem with no concept of it at all, only the sudden, desperate, emotional conviction that I had to write something else. And I started it, "It is enough to love."

And I began to cry.

It is not the character's philosophy. It is not my philosophy. It is something I am afraid of, to my entire depth. I am afraid of thinking to myself, it is not enough to love. I am afraid of losing what I love and therefore turning away from it entirely. I am afraid of becoming this character, who has nothing to hold on to but an eternity of useless memories and the refusal to take hold of the glimmer of hope for the future, the spark which she is given and refuses to touch because she wants it too desperately. I am afraid of becoming that person.

Before I began this story at all, in a notebook which I was writing poems in, I wrote at the top of the page, "It is not enough to love." That is all I wrote. I could not bring myself to write more; I could not find the words for the poetry that followed. That was all that was there, overwhelming and terrible. That was all I could think of to feel. And on the very next page I began the first draft of this story, as if it were an outlet for my fears, a warning to myself that I should never become this person. I never want to become this person.

I know that my character will change her mind. I know I cannot bear to leave her with that life, where love is not enough to save a person. I know she will be brought to it, like I was, but not exactly like I was, because she is not me. She is a person who I will never become, someone cold and afraid and desperate and longing for a thing she cannot touch, which she won't bring herself to see before her.

But I admit, I am still afraid. I will always be afraid. I will fear every day that I love something which I can lose, but I will love anyway, exactly because I can lose it. I will love because it is enough to save someone, and it is enough to save me.

It is enough to love.

This time.

I woke up at 6:30 today, and was stunned by the morning. It was morning, I mean. Not late morning, when the sun was already blazing, but early and soft and sleepy. I went outside and it smelled like school and waiting for the bus, that little stretch of morning when I'm only walking and feeling the air and watching the sun rise. It was really quite something.

Of course, with a start like that, you'd bet I would want to make something of the day. That does not seem to be happening. In the past two days I've had a lot of thoughts of what a waste a useless life is, especially when you're young and untethered, and it still hasn't inspired me to go outside and do something. It did inspire me to clean up my folder, though :D

I actually discovered a "story" about a writer. I guess I got through two paragraphs before stopping, but it was more of a personal narrative than a story. One line in particular stuck with me (and only one line, because I can't remember the rest :P):
I could do something else, but writing is the only thing I've ever found a reason for.
Then I deleted it! Organization.

WELL. Blogger friends, I have a problem. I am taking six (!) core classes next year, which, in a terrible world, would mean six binders. Luckily, two classes I can use folders for, which leaves English, math, and the two sciences with binders. That's still four binders which I don't want to lug around all day. I'm wondering if I should combine my science binders or try to condense my math binder into a folder, or something. So, in total I should have: three folders, two notebooks, one five-subject notebook, a small binder, a medium binder, and a mega binder. Bleh.

Speaking of that, schedules should be here any day now! I have to keep reminding myself that it's only ten o'clock and the mail wouldn't have arrived yet, and that's why no one is posting their schedules on Facebook yet. Yeah, that's it.

Also things that are coming up: SILVER COMING HOME! Only five days now! I know I'm more excited about this than she is, haha, but as she represents approximately one fourth of the people I hang out with, she has been sorely missed.

I think I should go say hi to Vera or something. This entry wasn't fantastically written, but I'm kind of tired from waking up at six thirty, so you'll excuse it this time :D

Saturday, August 6, 2011

In general.

I was going to blog, and then I once more became entirely absorbed in tumblr, which is strange since I don't actually have one. Oddly enough, most of the tumblrs I've been poring over have to do with a show which is currently in between seasons and that I've watched four episodes from. I've become mildly obsessed. This is probably unhealthy.

Well! I feel like it hasn't been that long since I last blogged, though it probably has. Hm. My school schedule still has not arrived, even though it's about the right time and I've heard that they were sent out last Monday. I don't really know what I'll do with myself after I get it. It's all I've been looking forward to all summer. I certainly won't be looking forward to actually going back to school, now will I?

Oh, and last Thursday, I finished Forever (sorry, I don't know what else to link to, haha)--the finale to the trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater which also includes Shiver and Linger, and which I currently forget the name of. The Wolves of Mercy Falls or something? Anyway, I loved the first book, and though the second book didn't really do anything for me, this one is definitely a favorite. I did cry at the end, though it was honestly a bit predictable. I don't know what was missing from the second book, but it was in this book. The end obviously leaves a lot unanswered, but the story definitely feels done, which I think is a good thing. I haven't lost any sleep over the ending :) Basically, I would reccomend this book, but obviously everyone should read the other two books first.

In slightly related news, I've been working on my latest story more, and to be perfectly honest, it makes me very happy :D There's something I just like about it. I admit, some parts of it I need to go over because they don't make much sense, but as a whole I really like the story that's been coming together. It's the same one from the excerpt I posted last Saturday--you know, the one with the girl getting on the train. That one.

I have to say, I really like using trains and train stations in stories. I mean, it's like a built-in story: something ending, something beginning, both the sadness of leaving something behind and the hope of a new life somewhere else. I briefly considered calling my latest story Trains before realizing that that sounded odd, and so it is still called Cities. I like having names for things. Hm.

AND FINALLY: I want a birthday party. Nothing special, just friends and pizza and cake. I mean, I know my friends will be celebrating my birth regardless, but I might as well grace them with my presence :D I'm turning fifteen in NINETEEN (19!) days! I remember thinking fifteen was, like, the epitome of teenager-ness. Fifteen and sixteen. Now it doesn't seem so old. I'm sure all of you people who are older than me will agree :)

Well, I suppose that's all. I'm kind of bored. In general. Back to tumblr, I suppose....:) 

Thursday, August 4, 2011

IT IS AUGUST! This means: my birthday is this month (three weeks, to be exact) and I will be turning 15, and we are getting schedules soon! I like to think of my schedule as an early birthday present, since I've had my entire summer pivoted around getting them. I've heard that they were sent out on Monday, which means they could be here today!

Schedules, of course, are a clear reminder that we are past the halfway-mark of summer and that school will be returning in the future. For the most part, I suppose I don't mind. I know I'll have a greater workload (two sciences--what was I thinking?) but, you know, I'm not as worried as I probably should be.

I am mildly worried about something Kim was kind enough to remind me of yesterday: summer reading work! I wish I had known about this last month! Luckily, it's not that bad; for both The Once and Future King and whatever other book we choose, we have to:
  1. Find ten quotes in which a character shows power or lacks power.
  2. Explain how that passage shows the character showing/lacking power.
So, it's not the worst assignment ever. However, we still have to "analyze the relationships between characters in terms of who holds and utilizes power" and "think about how the theme develops through the course of the book," and when we get to school, we'll have an essay based off of this work. I'm trying to find the willpower to begin this today, but it's really not coming to me.

In other news, I have created the greatest thing ever on Paint:


It's a bit blurry here, but awesome, yes?

This is [slightly] unrelated, but my mouse is either not clicking at all or double-clicking, and just in general being awful. The worst part is my dad took it apart and cleaned it the other day and it's still not working.

Yesterday I saw yet another free movie with Shari! I don't know where she gets these free tickets, but they are cool. We saw 30 Minutes or Less, which was very funny, though it seemed that they didn't rate it before they let children watch it. By the time we got there--thirty minutes early, might I add--there were so many people there already that we had to sit in the very front row. That is not an enjoyable movie-watching experience. Still, the movie was funny, and it was cool hanging out with Shari :)

I'm going to go waste my time doing things that aren't summer reading work. I'm so irresponsible.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

I wrote again!

Cities

Chapter One
The Continental Train

The air is soggy heat and nothing more. It hangs like a blanket. I sit on a damp bench and wonder if I look mysterious, waiting for a train by myself, a lonely midnight passenger in a gleaming, thrilling night. I like to think sometimes that I am a mysterious person, who people see and then see in their dreams without remembering that they knew me.

It is hard to describe the type of night it is. It is the night where you catch sight of an old brick building which you have seen a million times before, but now it is in the rain and there are lights around it and it looks like somewhere else, a city you have never seen. It is the feeling of somewhere else, crushing and lonely and wild. It’s not really raining; it is the moment between waking and sleep, when you’re not really sleeping or waking, but being aware. It is raining, but the rain stops falling as soon as I look at it.

The train pulls into the station as if it had always been there and I had not noticed. Nobody gets off, because there is only one place anyone ever goes when they board the Continental Train, and it is impossibly distant and vast and meaningless, a light from far away which you see through rain, which is burning in sad splendor on a lonely pier. That is the destination of the Continental Train. This is just a long, dark road in the night where people drive and wonder where they’re going. I remember standing up and boarding the train and sitting in my car, an almost empty car of an almost empty train, and I don’t remember much else. I don’t know if I think at all.

There are no windows in this car because it is coach, but only plastic indents where windows should be, as if to remind us of what we are missing. I do not want windows because I have never wanted windows, and when I have been given windows against my will, I am only filled with longing for the things I didn’t want to see. Through windows are worlds we cannot touch. I do not want to see them.

There are two others in the car who look at me and who seem like a dream. I am never alone when I flit like a bird from one place to another, even though I desperately want to be. There always must be someone.

They sit together and they both have brown eyes, but one pair is restless and dreamy and the other is careful and observant. One pair is young and wide and wears a pale head with a crown of silver-blond threads upon its head, and the other is tired and ancient, and sits in a garden of glimmery thin brown vines. They both look like ghosts to me, lonely strangers in an endless night, and I think that they are more beautiful than people can be.

I am so lonely.

The train pulls away from the station slowly, waiting for people who will never come. Maybe it will never leave the station at all, but wait forever for those missing passengers, trapped souls who have lost their tickets or who are kept behind by old lovers, sad friends. Maybe it has always been there, waiting for its lost souls, and I have just now boarded for myself. Maybe I am the last passenger it waited so dutifully for, and now it can pull away from the restless city and the empty night and fly into the shining light of beyond this world.

I close my eyes with feather lightness against the utter grayness of the car, and feel the breaking hearts of the passengers who never came as the train sidles up its lonely track and into the brilliant lostness of the night. We are in the air and supported by a thin metal beam which I have always thought is made out of bones. The air of the car is still and cold.

When I open my eyes next, the two others souls, who I think must be sisters, are leaned against each other and are caught by a restless sleep, dreams with threaten to take them from this world forever; they are only kept together by their gentle grip of each other. I watch them for a moment before falling into my own torrid dreaming, with no one there to keep me to myself.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Things!

It's almost like I have a life. I have done things! With people! I feel busy, like I'm not slowly letting the best(?) years of my life pass me by in a haze of insignificance. I should go hang-gliding and write a book and tell the boy I like him. Or I could spend my days listlessly floating in a dream-like state, unaware or refusing to admit that brief moments of happiness and activity don't make up for all the things I haven't done.

Oh. Where did that come from? Anyway, on Tuesday I cleaned my terrible, terrible house, and yesterday I had Shari over! People rarely come to my house, especially Shari, so this was an excitement. We expressed concern over my--possibly dead--snail, played Mariokart, went for a walk (it was so unbelievably nice outside--but not after we walked in the sun for half an hour). Then we went to the mall and somehow every skirt I tried on looked AWFUL on me, but I did get this fantastic blue tank top and a set of earrings!

We came back, played more Mariokart, ate dinner, and then went upstairs and shamelessly talked about people in the eighth grade yearbook. Also, we became concerned over my lack of clothing. I always thought I wore the same clothes all the time because I was lazy and didn't pay attention to what I wore, but apparently it's because I really don't have that many clothes. Later, after Shari left, I made a list of all the outfits I could make out of the clothes I had. Unfortunately, there are two problems:
  1. I'm not going to wear dresses every day, especially in the winter.
  2. I'm not going to wear skirts every day, especially in the winter.
This basically puts me back at square one, which is: about three/four shirts which I wear a lot and five/six which I wear commonly, a deficiency in jeans, and a bunch of shirts which I no longer like. My parents have given me part of the allowance they owe me, but I still don't have nearly enough to actually flesh out my wardrobe.

Essentially the point of the entire above section was that I want to go to the mall again :) If only my friends ever read my blog anymore!

Oh! Back to Shari. Eventually we drove her home, but a good time was had by all. I liked the part where we shamelessly gossipped about people we did/didn't like. We're just good people, deep down :D No, I kid! We also talked about clothes.

Today, I took my possibly dead snail along with us on errands so we could go by Petsmart, and less than fifteen minutes into the trip he suddenly starts moving around and being normal. So, well, great. Apparently, to test if a snail is alive or not, one must try to pry open the "door" they put against the opening of their shells. If they continually keep it shut, they're alive. If the snail comes out and smells bad, it's dead. I do not want to do this, ever. Hopefully Eddie will stop being weird and acting dead. We got him algae tablets!

After we were finished with errands, I invited Vera and sisters over and we played (yet more) Mariokart and ogled over my fish/cats. Then we biked to this kind-of-nearby park, and there were these three adorable children there who we played tag with :) When we got back, we hung around for an hour, and when I went home I had to take my second shower of the day since we were going out to dinner. I think I'm abusing my hair.

Speaking of hair, I once again have the urge to do something different with it. Don't get me wrong, I really like my hair. I like the color, I like the length, I like the way it falls, and it hasn't gotten shaggy enough to warrant a huge haircut (although it's getting there). But...I don't know. I've gone on-and-off about actually getting bangs for years now. I keep talking about getting a different style but usually they do the same thing: hack it off to above my shoulders and add layers. If I got a haircut now and hated it, I think it would grow back to normal in time for school, so what's stopping me? You know what, I think I will. I will get bangs. Gosh, I'm adventerous.

In yet further news, I have lost all urge to write. It's not simply writer's block (which I had severely before this); I just don't feel like writing anything at all. I haven't even looked at a story in pretty much a week, and while I go through these spells almost often, it never fails to bum me out. I guess I have a fear that I'll never want to write again and then I'll end up working at McDonald's since I'm not really good at anything else. Usually it goes away after a week or two, though.

I just swatted a fly on the screen and there are bug guts on it, now. Lovely.

I'm almost entirely sure that I had something else to say. Hm.

My mouse has gone from double-clicking everything to not wanting to click at all. Either way it's terribly annoying.

I suppose I should end here. Good night! Sorrow, and all that. Yes...I should say I'm going to bed, but really I'm going to stay up online browsing for at least another half hour. My, my.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Now I feel shallow.

Hey! It totally hasn't been five days; don't be ridiculous. You know, I probably would've forgotten to blog today if it hadn't been for my handy to-do list (which I made last night), on which I accomplished two items so far.

SO. Sleepover with Kim! We played Super Mario Bros. for a significant amount of time, haha :) We also saw Captain America with Leo and Jon, and it's probably my favorite comic-book based movie so far. I thought they didn't explain the ending properly, but hey, that's just me--otherwise it was pretty solid. After the movie we got ice cream at Friendly's, which was delish, of course :D

Kim and I also played video games, painted nails, played Candyland, and, as always, played Jojo's Fashion Show--it's a hallowed tradition. Actually, now that I think about it, we didn't do much else. But we stayed up till four in the morning! We are both masters of making nothing last a really long time, apparently. But still, it was fun! And it's the first outisde activity I've done in weeks, as long as you don't count my short-lived bout of athleticism, which I don't.

In other news, I've bought another snail! And I'm pretty sure he's not dead yet! Unfortunately, he's been on his side not moving for hours. When my mom picked him up to put him upright, though, he retreated into his shell, so I geuss he's still alive. I have named him Eddie, which may or may not be the name of the last snail I had.

Also, I have officially become excited for back-to-school clothes shopping again! I suppose this isn't a good thing, since I'm broke as hell. Technically speaking, if I get my parents to hold off my payments on my phone (which I still do not have, because Great Adventure is a flying butthole) and they give me the six weeks of allowance I have not recieved, I'll only need two/three more weeks to have enough money to actually get the clothes! The chances of this all happening and the clothes all still being there is slim, but I can hope :)

Part of me is ashamed to be concerned with clothes and money when there are starving children in the world. Hmm.

I'm sure I had significantly more profound things to say, but now I don't remember them. My birthday is in a month! It will be a marvelous day, I'm sure.

You know, birthdays remind me of presents. Presents remind me of things I want. Things I want include: a school bag which does not make me sad, and a jacket. The backpacks I usually get don't make me sad, I just feel like something cooler. That's not important, though. I really want a jacket. I haven't owned a jacket in years, always just hoodies and puffy winter coats. I will take any type of jacket: trench coat, biker jacket; a freaking sailor jacket. But you know what's consistent between all of those? They are all expensive, or at the very least beyond my current monetary capabilities. Meh.

Now I feel shallow for talking about clothes I want, and money and stuff.

I wrote all of the above hours ago, and then I went to Barnes and Noble and read The Great Gatsby. I'm looking forward to going over it in school because I feel like I'm missing something from it, honestly. I've never been good at literary analysis...

Well. Good night!

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Axes from the sky.

I DID SOMETHING ACTIVE!

Yesterday, after consuming my typical lunch of a hot pocket and a glass of soda, I felt the twinges of a health kick coming on. My "health kicks" are usually short (several hours to a day or two, at best) and minimally effective, but yesterday, I happened to be talking to Kim while it happened. Kim, being of a hardier (and less wimpy) breed than I, has occupied her summer days with track club, which she then persuaded me to join for the day. I, in a fit of insanity, agreed. Why do I do these things to myself?

Anyway, I went to her house first and we walked there. It was muggy and hot. That is all there is to say about that. When we got there we ran a lap, which was bad enough in gym when I was used to it, and was now, after weeks of lumpiness, brutal. Then we did stretches and running exercises, which weren't so bad, except it was so hot and so muggy that I was literally dripping sweat. Then we did this monstrous thing where we all ran in a line and the person at the end of the line ran up to the front, and then when that person reached the front, the person now at the end of the line ran to the front, and so on. For two laps. I am far, far too wimpy to do this.

Luckily that was the end of the meet--it was cut short due to weather. When my mom picked me up, she rewarded me with a giant thing of Mountain Dew X) You know, it's almost like I'm not even lumpy! Almost...

In other news, I am getting more and more excited for The Hunger Games movie. Here is what I had to say about it to Kim:

You know what? I think it's going to be AWESOME. And if it's not, I will find the director in his home and make him participate in a hunger games where the only other participant is a giant man-eating robot which shoots fire.
And Kim made her own lovely edition:

HAHAHA. And if he somehow defeats this robot, then axes will rain down from the sky. Axes and nothing else.
Who else is excited for it?

In other, final (since I'm supposed to be going to bed now) news, I have come up with a new story, and it makes me very happy. It's about zombies! Well, it's about other things, but it's set in the zombie apocalypse! I've never actually written a story set in the zombie apocalypse. I really do like it, though. When I have more time, I'll describe the plot in detail :D

Monday, July 18, 2011

They hosed you down, you're good as new.

Does anyone remember in Harry Potter 7, the scene when Harry and Hermione danced in the tent? I have the song that played during that scene on my iPod now :D It honestly makes me sad. It makes me feel like I'm remembering something sad, you know? Anyway, I guess, if anyone doesn't know and wants to listen to it somewhere, the song is O Children by Nick Cave. I'm too lazy to find it on YouTube, sorry :D

I admit, I'm kind of disappointed that only one person commented on my last blog. It was important to me. Well, the part about writing was important to me--I don't know, I felt like I had finally given a voice to something I didn't know how to express before, and no one responds? It's okay, though. I'm not one of those people who beg for comments. At least I got one, right? :)

WELL. How have I been keeping myself, you ask? Today I hung out with Vera, the only person I ever hang out with anymore. We hung around then went to the library, then got pizza with her family, and then came back home where I trounced her and her sister at MarioKart. We then played online games for a brief time until her laptop started imploding, then played Stratego and ate pizza, which was going very well in my favor (the game, not the pizza, although the pizza was quite nice) until my parents called me home to eat dinner and stuff. Yesterday, I helped her make her first Facebook account! So, I suppose that's been adventurous.

As for anything else, well, I'm as lumpy as ever. But next week, I'm having a sleepover at Kim's! Fun!

Friday, July 15, 2011

Out of the blue! (Also, 700th post!)

In my defense, for most of the past week, I didn't have Internet, and yesterday I had nothing to say. No longer!
I watched Harry Potter today (you know which one), and AHHHHUBDCGHYDJGDSQUEEVBGCFNXYDU. Spoiler alert (as if anyone who reads this hasn't already read the book or seen it already): I started crying when Fred died, renewed my tears when Snape found Lily's body, and then kept it up until King's Cross, with an interlude of near-sobbing when Harry used the resurrection stone. Sad sad sad. Hermione and Ron's kiss was fantastic. Now I have the urge to reread all of the Harry Potter books, because, I mean, seriously: they're brilliant. The world, the characters, it's all just brilliant. It's a world that everyone knows and anyone can feel like they have a place in it, you know? Like J. K. Rowling said: Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

As for other things (yes, surprisingly, there are other things in the world), this is my 700th post! I suppose I should make a speech about how lovely you all are (as if you didn't already know) and how I can't wait for 1,000 or something. You know, I never really do anything for the big round numbers (although big round numbers are my favorite). I usually don't even write a very long post (because my life is boring). My 600th was angsty, and then I talked about Up, and I might've even mentioned grades or something. Usually I include a picture of some celebratory thing, like fireworks.

I've used a surprising amount of parentheses (because I can't form full, coherent sentences in order to describe my meaning).

Before I continue (because the next part is long): I have finished my summer reading, The Once and Future King, and it's my new favorite book. It's beautiful. Also, yesterday I went on an impromptu trip to Great Adventure with Vera! Unfortunately, I still didn't get my phone.

I have to say that I am having a miserably boring summer, with barely any communication with my friends, which is spent inside all day. I'm not really surprised.

After venturing into my old blog archives I realized that my three year blogging anniversary was on June 27. My first actual post on Cloudy was July 8. My first post on here was November 9. All in 2008, when I was in seventh grade and I was over-emotional but couldn't express my emotions properly.

I hope to keep this blog until the Internet ends, even though I don't really read the archives anymore. Some things I don't want to remember, some things I just don't remember, and it doesn't do me any good to remember most things anyway. Writing this isn't about remembering. It's not just so I can look back in twenty years, on the old gravestone of my childhood that I've long since abandoned, and think of all the things which have no impact on me anymore.

But then, asking me why I blog is like asking me why I write. I can't answer; there are a lot of reasons and none of them make any sense to me, so if I wrote them they wouldn't make any sense to you. I guess I just like the people, and I can't stop now that I've started because I'm afraid of endings and I hate change. See, now I don't even know what I'm talking about.

I wonder why I sound so miserable?

Writing frustrates me entirely. It's as if every letter isn't going anywhere; the words are running in place, never moving forward, never bringing me to what I want. I hate everything I write, I really do. Every story I create is wrong, like I'm circling the drain until I find the one thing I'm meant to achieve, the one story which speaks to me and to others, that I can write without looking back, without losing hope. It's like a set of puzzles lined up before me in a row, and if you put them all together they make one splendid, beautiful picture, but every puzzle has been mixed up so that none of the pieces fit together, and I can't sort them out. I feel as if the reason I write is to find that one story which I am meant to tell, the very best thing I can possibly create which I have been given whatever gifts I may possess so that I can create it.

There are obstacles, though. Not obstacles, but one obstacle which I cannot overcome. It's not the puzzle pieces; if I were patient I could sort them out. The trouble is my own disenchantment with the world. I don't hate it but I don't know what to do with it, don't know how to tear myself away from it. The world makes me think that every step I take is wrong. Everything I see is contrived and empty, fake, silly, and my own work is no exception. Everything I write, from the moment I put it on paper, is wrong to me. It's all just plastic; the whole world is plastic, and I can't create something that isn't. I'm no alchemist; I can't turn lead into gold, and I can't discover the elixir of life. I fear for myself, and that when I die, there will be nothing left of me at all.

I want to leave something behind desperately. The desire for recognition has poisoned my work, and I know it; it fills every word with fear. It is in short a desire for approval, but it runs deeper than that. I want the things I create to live on forever; I want them to be classics, to be discussed by professors, to change people's lives. I want people to feel. And this want has made me so focused on recognition that nothing I write is good enough. Nothing I have created makes anyone feel, or weep, or sense for days that there's something missing from them which they weren't even aware of beforehand--these are all the things I have experienced, but cannot make others experience. It's infuriating to believe that there is one story, one thing of beauty which I am meant to create, but I can't see it before me.

I want to capture all things sad and beautiful, to describe heartache and to be subtle. Subtlety is my desire; when I look at the world through my own eyes, I see sadness and I see beauty; I see what is there all around me but the true love I have for the world comes from the things unable to be expressed, the feelings you get when you stand in the wind, the thoughts which break your heart in silence, the things you know without knowing why. You see the light everywhere, but the rays of the sun are subtle, and the warmth or the cold on your skin. I want people to see the beauty I see without having to tell them, so that they can love it and make it apart of themselves.

I want too many things. It all pains me. I feel desperately alone; not because I don't think anyone would understand, but because I can't express my meaning so that they will. It would be so easy if I had the puzzle pieces in a line before me, so that I could put them together and show the world these things I see. I think it's worth something to see the world as beautiful, to feel alive just by standing on the steps and feel the wind through the trees as the sun sets. I think it's worth something to see the difference between the light of the morning and the light of the afternoon. I wish everyone was as fascinated and devestated by the world as I was, because then I wouldn't be tasked with describing it to them, to make them feel it too.

I don't really know what I was originally planning to write here. I suppose this would be Why I Write, Second Edition. I think it's significant that I accidentally deleted a paragraph and I cried, because I couldn't remember what I said, and it felt lost forever.

I think I've been trying to say this for a while.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Excuses!

I HAVE NO INTERNET CONNECTION EXCEPT FOR MY MOM'S IPHONE SO THAT'S WHY I HAVEN'T BLOGGED. WOO.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Fireworks

Happy Independence Day!

I'm trying to describe my fireworks experience without sounding pretentious, but it's not turning out so well :) Every year the local high school (not the one I go to, but one closer) hosts a fireworks display for the Fourth of July, and it's become something of a tradition for my dad and I to go. It  simply isn't the Fourth of July without fireworks. We left around 7:30, because the show was supposed to start at 8, but we all know it doesn't start until around 9:30 when the sun goes down. Even hours beforehand, the streets surrounding the school were busy; rather than fight with the crowd, we pulled into the half-full parking lot of a business and walked the rest of the way.

The fields behind the school were already crowded; the most popular vantage point, a hill which offers a perfect view, was almost completely filled. My dad and I found some bleachers which, except for a couple trees, would let us see all of the fireworks. Slowly people began to fill in, and the sky grew darker.

Before the fireworks began was the celebration--not of independence, not for our country, but the joy of being together and being with friends and family, the joy of sitting in a field with hundreds of others, strangers brought together, waiting for the sun to go down. People from all over town came together and played together and laughed together; as the sky grew darker, glow tubes dotted the field. All around you could see the glow tubes; people threw them, ran with them; you could see the vendors, holding great chunks of them in their hands, wandering like beacons through the fold-out chairs and blankets. There was the smell of hot dogs, grass, perfume, air, and people; there were people everywhere. There was togetherness. There was friendship. There were games and food and conversation; there was nothing bad in the air, not a single sour feeling, just friendliness and anticipation.

The fireworks started without warning; in a moment the atmosphere went from a communal picnic to riveted focus. Everything stops. Your eyes are filled with light, and you count the seconds till the sound hits you, the crack that stops your heart. One after another, flying upward and disappearing for a moment before exploding in a burst of color before slowly fading, twinkling out like dying stars. Each new explosion illuminates the fading smoke skeletons of the ones before. Whispers and gasps and laughter fill the silence, create a backdrop for a world which has suddenly been narrowed down to the simple, beautiful world you see in the sky. As red, white, blue, purple, green rock the sky you get a feeling, a sense of what you're celebrating--the people gathered, the joy of the moment, the wonder of this thing you can't grasp. This is what the celebration is for; this feeling of pure, untainted, happy freedom. It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

The finale is a spectacle, one after another after another. The entire world is filled with light. You know it's ending because it's more spectacular than anything you've ever seen; it's a thousand, million colors, lights, and the old ones don't even have time to die before the new ones fill the sky and you can hardly breathe, you can't breathe. Then it's over and the field of people you forgot was there begin to move, to fight each other to get out, but their eyes are still training on the skyline, just in case...

Meanwhile, a certain young writer tries desperately to remember all the things she thought during the show, so that she can write about it later :) Happy Fourth, everyone!


Friday, July 1, 2011

ANOTHER ONE!

I realized I forgot to say HAPPY FIRST DAY OF JULY!, and then that I forgot to share my final grades, which came in the mail yesterday. I'm very happy about my final exam grades :D
  • English - 85This one is okay; considering that it was the hardest exam, I'm not too worried about it. Some people did better, some people did worse.
  • Geometry - 96WOOOOOO. Considering how poorly I usually do on math tests, I'm SUPER DUPER happy about this!
  • Science - 97WOOOOOO. AGAIN. WOOOOOO. But then, I usually do fairly well on science :D
  • World Civ. - 100I GOT ONE HUNDRED. ONE FREAKING HUNDRED. I GOT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ON A FINAL EXAM. KHVFNFUJCRKHVKVFCUFGH
So, yes, very happy about all of that :D My actual final grades were pretty good, too, considering. I wish I could have done better overall, but too late now, you know?
  • English - 88
  • Art - 90
  • Geometry - 87
  • Latin - 88
  • Science - 84
  • World Civ. - 90
Just think, the next letter I get in the mail will be my sophomore year schedule :D

Unheard of!

Hey, I actually did something today! How exciting! It's almost like not being a lump.

Shameless plug time for my fantastical friend, Shari. She has an art blog, Fresh Crayons, which is now doing a giveaway involving her lovely Etsy shop. It's not nearly as popular as it should be. AWAY WITH YEE, BLOGGER FRIENDS. GOEST THOU TO YON  LADY'S BLOG.

I like to think I didn't butcher all that nice old-timey speech.

Anyway. I went to the mall with Shari today, and actually bought things! I got this shirt, which just makes me happy in so many ways, and this dress, which I wasn't really sure about, but Shari convinced me to get. So, hooray! I'm getting ever closer to my annual obsession with buying new clothes for the school year, which generally comes right before my obsession with school supplies. The most beautiful thing about going back to school is all the stuff it gives you an excuse to buy.

Oh, and I got a dollar's worth of bouncy balls from Old Navy, which is an entirely reasonable purchase and I can't fathom why you're all looking at me strangely...

Now I'm just cheerful. Imagine, actually doing things with friends during summer vacation! Unheard of!

This morning wasn't that great, though. Last night I tried to mentally will myself to wake up around 7 o'clock so I could mow the lawn and take a shower and stuff, but that didn't happen. So, after waking up at 9 in a semi-panic, only two hours before I was supposed to be at the mall, I went out to mow the lawn. It was all going great--as great as that particularly chore can be--when all of a sudden, out of the blue, I run over a hose. I swear I stared at that spot for a good minute, trying to decide if there was a hose there, because I thought there might be but I couldn't see it. Clearly there was. Anyway, the mower suddenly stopped, and after many desperate attempts to turn it back on, I started crying. Probably because, if it couldn't be fixed, I'd have to pay for a new one, haha.

Well, that was my day! Until next time, friends!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The disgrace of a waste of a life.

Again with the not blogging for days, I suppose. I'm such a bad blogger, abandoning you all like that. Not that I've been up to much: I am the epitome of lumpiness. I'm so lumpy I leave a trail of ooze wherever I go. Eventually I'll become so lumpy that letters will just start to fall off and I'll become an ump. Actually, I think that might've already happened.

Today was somewhat less lumpy than usual, though! I actually went outside the house when my mom and I dropped off my dad's phone at his work, since he forgot it. Then, when we got home, I washed the giant stuffed animals I had been meaning to wash, and then gave the cat a bath just for kicks. I would've given the other animals a bath too, but we only had ONE clean towel. I suppose if I were truly productive I would've also done the laundry, but hey, baby steps here.

Then I ran over to Vera's house for a chat. Unfortunately, she had to go to some tennis thing, so I wasn't over there long. That reminded me of tennis, though, and how decidedly un-lumpy I could be if I started playing it again with my dad. And Vera! Since she is literally the only person I can conceivably hang out with on a regular basis, I kind of have to make an effort to do so.

Speaking of Vera, on Sunday I went to Great Adventure with her and her family. They actually got me to go on rides other than the small wimpy ones! Unfortunately, by the time we got around to both Nitro and El Toro, the two best rides at the park, the line was too long. It was kind of my fault, because earlier in the morning I chickened out at Nitro. It's such a fantastic ride, but for some reason I can't bring myself to go on it again :(

Oh, and before that, on Saturday, I went to Shari's brother's graduation. Not for her brother, just to hang out with Shari (and friends). So, I suppose that's worth mentioning. I could seriously live on her trampoline.

As far as what I've been busying myself with the past few days, it's pretty much the same as last week: sitting around and doing nothing. I can't believe it's already been two weeks of summer and I have actually done nothing at all. I hope the rest of the summer isn't like this :( Although I have been writing more of that story I posted last week, as opposed to what Silver commissioned me to do while she's away at camp. Oh, and I've been reading Fire by Kristin Cashore, and it is really just fantastic. I'm slowly nearing the end, and every day I beg my parents to bring me to Barnes and Noble so I can finally finish it. I mean, I really just love this book. Yesterday, while reading it, I actually cried--anyone who has read it will know what I was crying about. Parts of it are incredibly sad. Also, I love the Dellian lament in the beginning of the book:
"While I was looking the other way your fire went out
Left me with cinders to kick in the dust
What a waste of the wonder you were

In my living fire I will keep your scorn and mine
In my living fire I will keep your heartache and mine
At the disgrace of a waste of a life"
Yes, so, great book. I kind of want to buy it, and Graceling (same author), so maybe on our next trip to Barnes and Noble I'll beg my parents to get it for me :D

Friday, June 24, 2011

694

Sorry I didn't blog for days! I assure you all that it is purely because of lack of things to blog about. These are the things I've done since Monday:
  • Sat around.
  • Played The Sims 2.
  • Played Super Paper Mario Bros.
  • Ate hot pockets.
  • Browsed the Internet.
And there we have it. Of course I haven't done anything interesting enough to warrant blogging today, but five days is just far too long for me.

Ooh, but on Monday, I went to Great Adventure again! This time with Silver and Kim! Unfortunately, Shari had to cancel, but luckily Kim was available, because I was having a meltdown trying to find someone to invite :D

Of course, the day couldn't be entirely fantastic. On the first ride we went on, when I stood up to leave, my phone fell from my pocket and managed to slip out of the seat and underneath the rails. Seriously. Seriously. I don't know why terrible things happen to my phone, but they do. The guy there told me to come back at the end of the day, which I couldn't exactly do, so we trekked on over to the lost and found area and I filled out a form and everything. So it's all good, right? Someone working at the ride would get my phone once the park closed, drop it off at the lost and found, and then they would call me and everything would be great? Apparently not, because it's been five days and they still haven't called, which means either no one got it or no one turned it in. Either way, I am phoneless, which is especially awful because I'm sitting around the house all day with no human contact.

Other than that, though, the trip was great! Kim was being a wimp and refusing to go on anything bigger than The Runaway Mine Train (which is, for the many who don't know, a fairly small ride) , but Silver and I went on El Toro, and it was FANTASTIC. If you ever go to Six Flags Great Adventure, GO ON THIS RIDE. I screamed the entire time.

Afterwards, Kim and Silver came back to my house, where we looked through my stories bin for a while, until Silver was picked up by her mom. Then Kim and I biked around a bit, came back, and played Abalone. Since I suck at Abalone, she was BEATING ME on her first time playing, which is honestly just disgraceful to me. But her mom came to pick her up before we finished the game, so the game is postponed until the next time she's at my house, and she hasn't won yet.

On a slightly (very) unrelated note, Silver has insisted that I improve upon and add to my NaNoWriMo story, except I don't really want to. After days of writer's block, I've finally come up with a new story that doesn't offend me! I haven't nailed down all the details, yet, but basically it's about a girl who suddenly wakes up inside a laboratory only to be told that her life was an illusion and that it, and she, are nothing more than products of the lab. That's a very rough outline, but I only came up with it yesterday. This is what I have so far:

I am real.
I have real living thoughts and feelings; I feel real pain, real cold biting at my very real, bloody fingers.
I feel things. I feel right now, and that can’t be made up. I have memories that are only mine, not fabricated, not reproduced, but mine. I remember the warmth of the sun on the mountains when it reflected off of fast-melting snow and filled the valley with light; I remember the scratch of the sweaters my grandmother made for me. I remember the press of my brother’s hands against mine when he looked me in the eyes and told me to run. I remember the curve of Daniel’s body as it careened through the air. I remember, and these memories are mine.
I am real. I am me, and not one of their lies. And if I am going to die soon, which I know I am, then I want to die with proof to the world that I, , have existed and felt and loved and lost, and that they could not erase me—they could not claim me—because as surely as I still breathe, I am me.

The tidal wave grew in the horizon, high above the mountains and blotting out the sun, but I was blind to it. We were all blind to it, and moved through our lives with security we never dreamed was false. In the early days, when I was too young to remember, I floated through life with the knowledge that my world was the only world, and all that I saw and felt and touched was my own, and something that would last forever. The grass of the valley was mine, the scattered trees of my grandmother, the lonely cottage which never to me seemed lonely; the sun itself as it floated lazily through the sky was my entire existence. Days were endless and nights were stars and my father’s bedtime stories; I learned to sing and discovered how to dance, and my childhood was a perpetual state of dreamy euphoria.
Many a morning I would sit up in my little bed, crafted by my father, and stare at the sunlight which floated through the breezy curtains; I would crawl slowly out of bed, with tiptoed feet and half-shut eyes, and press myself against the cool windowpane and stare at the valley, at the way it cupped the morning. Then my mother would call us for breakfast, and I would forget the half-realized feelings the view had tried to evoke, till it was midmorning and my brother and I were pushed outside.
There was endless activity for us; when we were not doing something inside, we were outside, sometimes playing games, sometimes only running through the grass and feeling the wind in our hair, between our fingers. There was no such thing as boredom; when we had nothing to do inside we went out, and when we were tired we went in and occupied our time with board games and our parents. My brother, he was my constant companion; his name was Ethan, and he was more constant to me than the sun rising every day. There was never a moment when I was not with him and we did not exist in perfect harmony. There were no true arguments between us, even if we disagreed; he was my protector and companion, and there was no one in the world I loved or trusted more.
Every day would find us outside. In the summer we would race each other over the entire valley, running till the land sloped back upward. We would see who could scream the loudest so that our parents, far off at the house, could hear us. We wove hats and necklaces of grass, and daily climbed higher on the tallest tree in the valley, singing silly songs about the view. We spent entire evening running about, catching fireflies and playing tag, screaming and laughing—we were never lonely, because though we were the only ones in the entire valley, we had each other.

So, there we go! Tell me what you think! In case you're wondering why she's narrating like she is, it's because the real story-telling actiony part starts when she wakes up. Anyway. Ta-da!