Day 332

Day three hundred thirty-two

September 30, 2013: Last day of September. Life goes by so quickly yet time just drags. Each individual day seems to last forever because you wade through it just to get to something else to need to do, but you’re so busy doing stuff that is slightly monotonous that when you look back it doesn’t seem like much has happened.  Much like a long drive or flight.

Day 331

Day three hundred thirty-one

September 29, 2013: I finally got around to printing up one of the books I need to. Two more to go.  The one I printed today was Earthly Gods. The feeling of the freshly printed and warm pages made me so happy, and Colleen has been waiting a while for this. I based one of the characters off of something she drew.

Day 330

Day three hundred thirty

September 28, 2013: I don’t know what to say.

A Reflection of Suicide

A man (1 Man) sits alone on the stage. As well as the man there is a desk with some desk like things such as papers and a clock on it. He picks up a letter opener, he slits his own throat. Stage goes dark. Lights come back on. It is the man paused just before he kills himself. Another man (2 Man) walks onto the stage, smoking a pipe.

2 Man: You (gestures at audience with pipe) are about to witness a man kill himself. Usually such an act would hold no importance for the world at large, but as this lucky son of a bitch has an audience, his ultimately sorrowful and selfish act is now a piece of art. (Begin rifling through stuff.) An expose on the human condition, if you will. Well how aggravating. He has left no note. Wait perhaps it is on his person. (Searches 1 Man.) Suicide notes do make this business a deal more poetic. A last remark to the world. An explanation as to why he couldn’t stick around. A cosmic break up if you will. (Pulls something out of 1 Man’s pocket.) No note, inconsiderate bastard, but I have found something almost as good. A wedding band. It’s almost cliché. So many people kill themselves over love. The lack of love, the loss of love, the guilt of love. Perhaps his love left him, or he left her. I suppose she could have died, but that would be lacking scandal. Anyway this seems too big of a ring for a woman’s slender finger. Wait, ah let me see, Yes! This wedding band fits his finger exactly! Perhaps we could presume his ring had merely fallen off, but what would be even better? He had a lover, possibly male because he has since realized he is gay, as his passion to his wife had dwindled to nothing. He felt guilt at cheating on his wife, and sorrow because he could not be with the woman/man he truly loved. Oh, wait, what is this. A sacred text, and it looks well worn. Bloody hell! Perhaps it was not a suicide of love after all, but of a more cosmic nature. He’s been confronted with an overwhelming doubt of what to believe. Can he not reconcile what he needs to be truth with what he knows to be truth? Arg! Look at him. Look at that expression. What am I supposed to do with that? There is no sorrow, no anger, no look of contemplation or a world weary traveler. Damn it all to hell, this man has left no clues for us to ponder. No, wait…that could be the point. His cloths are neither extremely fine not poor. This setting is almost to void of personality, to even be cliché. The only fault in the set up was that there was no way to obscure his gender. He is the blank page, the half told story. Reflect upon this setting and fill in the details with bits and pieces from you own bleak experience. His pain is your pain. Your pain is your own work of art. By providing this scene a reason based from you own shallow life, you give your existence a false sense of purpose. Yes. That works quite well. (He pauses for a moment and takes the letter opener from 1 Man’s hand.) I suppose I could stop him, prevent him that nasty blood stain this will cause. He ends his life so casually, and I could save it just as casually. (Thinks, puts letter opener back.) In all honesty though, that would destroy the depth of this piece and return him to the dull life that drove him to this action. Besides, this gives his life some poetic meaning. Surly that is worth a bloodstain or two (exits.)

1 Man kills himself again. Lights go dark. 

Day 329

Day three hundred twenty-nine

September 27, 2013: A completely full day off. No school, no work, no obligations. Nowhere to go. What a sweet, sweet bliss this is.

Day 328

Day three hundred twenty-eight

September 26, 2013: I need to leave in a couple minutes for work so I am going to keep this short.

College Re-cap

This week was a short week for school, all projects had to be turned in yesterday. I'm pretty sure I got an A in both classes, then again, they were both pretty easy. Though, the last test in one class a swear, at least half the questions were never covered in the material. 

Let's tally up what I did then:

12 discussion initiated

36 responses to someone else discussion 

11 short essays written, (only 300-500 words)

2 long essays written (1600-2000 word)

3 books and 10 articles read for research for above essays

2 entire text books read

50 pages of notes

And as a bonus:

1 new essay writing format learned. (APA? Shoot, until now I've been using MLA.)

It was a fantastic adventure which all things considered felt a lot like doing homework. I thought I was supposed to physically feel bettering myself, while instead all I am is more tired. Is that what bettering yourself feels like? I did a lot of work, that maybe kind of had a purpose but that I can't help but feel could had been better spent. Is that what college feels like? 

Ah, oh well. So I suppose somewhere between reading and writing essays and posting on discussion boards I learned the knowledge that is necessary to the skills I will need on the job force, such as how to finish everything I need to do when the days are getting shorter and the to-do pile is getting bigger. Also how to not judge everyone around me despite the fact that they are all idiots, (whoops!) and how to say the same exact thing but in a way that makes it sound better than it actually is. I suppose I learned a few things in the subjects being taught, Customer Service and um something just called General Studies which was a class teaching you how to go to college. 

My next two classes start next Wednesday, (weird, I know) and until then I am catching up on reading and sleeping and recreational writing. And guess what, I get actually text books this time!!!!

 Yes I am the type of person where this is exciting. You see the thing is the last two classes the text books were online. With this college the text books are included in the intuition and you simply get them in whatever form the college arbitrarily decides. On the downside, e-text books suck but on the upside I get a voucher for real text books and don't have to spend extra money on them. 

So am I ready for round 2 of the crazy and tiring world of college? Probably not! But I'm going to enter it anyway. Wish me luck, and may I have success in stuffing knowledge into my head. 

Day 327

Day three hundred twenty-seven

September 25, 2013: And my first two classes are done.

Day 326

Day three hundred twenty-six

September 24, 2013: I was so spoiled, growing up homeschooled and usually being able to finish my school by noon. That fact that I had about one hour of free time is a new thing for me. Without stop I was either doing school, work, or chores. Adulthood is so much fun.

Day 325

Day three hundred twenty-five

September 23, 2013: Guess what I got in the mail today? Actual textbooks! This college you get the cheapest offer available and that’s what you get. It’s to make it easier since the format is online and everything has to be pretty scheduled. This semester’s books didn’t come in an online format so I got real one and they didn’t cost any extra, since books come with tuition.

Day 324

Day three hundred twenty-four

September 22, 2013: I thought quite a bit today, about my story and junk. I’m not sure if I did anything productive as far as the plot goes, but it sure was fun. It made me realize though how much reserach I’m going to have to do.

Day 323

Day three hundred twenty-three

September 21, 2013: Finally got around to downloading iTunes onto my new laptop. I hadn’t even thought about it, but one Pinterest I saw a bunch of pins for this podcast things called Night Vale and so I checked it out on iTunes. I got to thinking and realized this computer did not have it. I am installing it right now.

Molly's Predicament

A one hundred word story

Molly was clipping her toe nails when she cut her foot. The blood came out dark and surprisingly quick. Molly hobbled over to the bathroom, trailing blood behind her. Sitting in the bathtub so she wouldn't get blood everywhere, Molly tried to stop the bleeding. She applied pressure and even a floss tourniquet, but nothing worked. After watching the blood drip for forty minutes, Molly began to feel tired; she fell asleep.

Molly's husband found her dead the next morning, only he couldn’t tell she had bled to death; all the blood from her foot had leaked down the drain. 

Day 322

Day three hundred twenty-two

September 20, 2013: I am ready to have the next two days off. So ready. It has been none stop for everybody this week. While Mum is still running because she’s at a retreat for the weekend, I am looking forward to two entire days of blissful reading and net surfing. I almost wish that I was like most people and went out and did things on the weekend, but that sounds so exhausting. When do people like that recharge and store up their energy?

Day 321

Day three hundred twenty one

September 19, 2013: Mum be all like, I got onto your blog. Girl you’ve been on my blog before.

Day320

Day three hundred twenty

September 18, 2013: Sometimes there are things I want to say, but would take too much explaining to make it worth it. So instead I will just say things, so what if Harry died, I thought Mum had watched that episode until right before I went to bed and by then it would have been lame to announce it. Besides, I’m not the kind of person to divulge that kind of information anyway.

The Truth About Adulthood

The past few years I have been hit with the adulthood stick. Not quite beaten with it yet. I may be going to college and working two part time jobs, but I am still living in my parents home, so I have as yet to face quite a bit of adulthood.

Nevertheless, I have felt the terrible lash of the growing up. At many times I wish for nothing more than to crawl back into the cocoon of childhood, but we all know that that is quite impossible.But alas, there is no going back. Rather I must face the dawning days of responsibility and living for other people. True, in some respects I have more freedom, and as with anything the cost of freedom is having to make your own choices. The TV shows may make it seem like a bunch of fun with friends while you spend money but it really is a lot of working, and school, and having to suck it up when you want to cry and/or punch people in the face. You have the freedom to spend all your money on shopping and ice cream, but you should spend it on bills. That is the freedom of adulthood. 

Of course as a kid all that freedom seems grand and all, but memory plays a wicked trick on us and Photoshops our picture of childhood until we only see our carefree shoulders and lack of cynicism.

So in an attempt to appreciate childhood better by clinging to it with bloody fingertips, I have assorted a few tips. These tips don't actually prevent you from growing up, but they will give you the illusion you are postponing it.

1: Go to college. Now I know this sounds like a weird one, as earlier I was lamenting my college responsibilities. Don't go to college like I'm going. Take whatever classes you want, put in the minimal effort, and spend your free time doing whatever. You still have some responsibilities, but you will never have more freedom than this.

2:  Don't get a job. Job's are a necessary evil, but I know many people who seem to exist without jobs.

3: Take out as many credit cards and loans you can. Spend what you don't have, and don't think about paying it back.

4: Suck off of mom and dad. Guilty has charged. I'm actually doing this one.

5: Spend time with only people you like. Hey, part of being an adult is learning how to deal with people. There aren't going to be any authority figures to take the fought over toy and say no one gets it. You actually have to compromise when dealing with a person who is being sooooo unreasonable and obviously they're wrong and you're right, so if anyone like that ever comes along leave them in the dust. No one is going to sort out relationship problems for you anymore, so unless you would like to sort them out yourself, which is a sign of adulthood, just avoid it.

6: Get drunk. Drunks kind of act like kids, if they're not mean drunks.

7: You can date, but don't get engaged. Get engaged, and then you have to be serious about families and junk.

So those are my tips for clutching at youth. Of course, just because you have responsibilities doesn't mean you have to become boring and worn down by life. Being a mature adult doesn't mean you have to leave everything that makes childhood great. Here are some tips for being young at heart, even if you admit defeat and realize someone is going to have to pay the bills.

1: Enjoy children's movies un-ironically. Sit down, watch them, and enjoy them. Same goes for books.

2: Laugh a lot.

3: Still try to use your imagination.

4: Do silly things while cold sober. Remember how fun it was to do ridiculous things when you were a kid? You'll feel self-conscience at first, but being silly while sober can be just as fun (if not more) as being drunk.

5: Don't try to mimic the trends set by kids today. (Kids in this tip being anyone significantly younger than you.) Trends belong in the glorified past, and trying to follow new ones will only make your age more apparent. I know I'm one to talk, being the ripe old age of 20, but even I would feel old by keeping up with ever trend those younger than me are coming up with.

6: Try new things.

7: And if all else fails, you can always get a heart transplant. 

Day 319

Day three hundred nineteen

September 17, 2013: Today is the only day this week I am closing. The rest of the days I am either opening, or I have the day off. Speaking of, I am working a lot (more anyway.) Five days, which still isn’t full time since each shift is only 6 hours but it is more than I have been working recently. And of course during school. Why couldn’t I have worked a lot during the summer and have it slack off now? But I guess I shouldn’t complain. There is still time to do everything I need to and then a bit of time left over.

Day 318

Day three hundred eighteen

September 16, 2013: Happy birthday Abi! Turning thirteen this year. Officially a teenager. What a disturbing thought.

Day 317

Day three hundred seventeen

September 15, 2013: Where did the day go? That went by far too quickly.

Day 316

Day three hundred sixteen

September 14, 2013: Stupid peer review. I have scheduled it so I can get all of my school done before Saturday, but this is peer review week.  One of my classes and several other class mates have already posted their review so I was able to review some essays on Thursday and Friday. The other one? I am the only one who has posted so far. The trouble is, the deadline for posting them is technically the same deadline for reviewing them; Sunday 11:55 pm.  Even if my scumbag class mates from that one class post their essays before then, I still have to do school on a Sunday. I hate my class mates.

The Missing Scene

Recently I have been editing the last book in my fairytale series, A Place No So Far Away. I was paying strict attention to how things were spelled and whether or not everything was grammatically correct. (Derek lied down on the ground...Derek lied down? LIED!? How could I have been so stupid?) I was pretty intent on sentence structure and not so much what was going on.

I had just erased the last two words, having decided the ending was much better without them, and realized something. An entire scene was missing. Just gone. The scene wasn't necessary. It featured a few minor characters, and it wasn't pivotal to the plot; all it did was clear up something that would happen later on. A Chevok's gun sort of things if you will. It wasn't in the outline so basically there was no proof that it ever existed.

Near on frantic, I began to look through any documents that might contain this scene. While I had no particular fondness for this scene, it bother me it had just upped and left the story.

After I exhausted any file the scene could possibly have been in, and tired out a few others, I cut my losses, realized the scene was no where to be found, and started having an existential crises. Had I even written the scene? I remembered writing it, even the general way it went all down. I even found the spot it should have been. Was is possible though that I only thought about writing it? I sometimes think about scenes in detail before writing them out. Yet I distinctly remember actually typing this scene out. Did the scene depart in  some explicable way, or was it something as unremarkable as me forgetting to click "save"?

So it looks like I actually have one more scene to write before I am officially down with the book.

Day 315

Day three hundred fifteen

September 13, 2013: The first episode of season two of Legend of Korra is airing tonight, and I’m working. I’m going to miss it. I have been waiting over a year for this, and I’m going to miss it. Make that the second existential crises I am having this week. I know it’s a cartoon, but I have been a dedicated fan of Avatar since I was actually in the target age demographic and the longer you’ve been with a show the more emotional attachment you have with it. I’m going to miss it. I just, am super depressed.

Day 314

Day three hundred fourteen

September 12, 2013: Got about only two and a half hours of sleep last night. I don’t really know what kept me up. I wasn’t uncomfortable and I was neither eager nor anxious. Simply put I was just not tired. I’m tired now though. So tiered. I had to work at JCP in the morning though so I couldn’t catch up then and now if I take a nap it will be too close to bed time so I will have a second bad night’s sleep. I was not made to have irregular sleep patterns.

Day 313

Day three hundred thirteen

September 11, 2013: I read a lot today, more than I thought possible. I guess I was just reading quickly, because looking back I don’t think I spent that much time. Then again maybe I did. This was a particularly light day in a particularly light week. I can’t help but feel there is a 5,000 word essay I missed that I had until today to finish.

Day 312

Day three hundred twelve

September 10, 2013: It is raining really hard, and lightning and thunder. Really close thunder. There have been so many times when the lightning flashed, and then with no time to count to even one, there was thunder. Reminds me of a story I wrote one time...

One Mississippi, Two Mississippi

Day 311

Day three hundred eleven

September 9, 2013: Well not only did I not exercise, (I don’t ever remember hearing my alarm go off. It was set, but for the life of me I can’t remember it ever going off. I must have turned it off in my sleep. I have done that a few times before,) but I also did not stay true to my diet.

Day 310

Day three hundred ten

September 8, 2013: Today has been blissfully uneventful. I have done nothing significant and it feels sublime. My time of solitude is coming to an end though, as my family is ever nearing home. My mother texted me and asked me to pre heat the oven to 425. I can only imagine what sort of alchemic experiments it is for.

Day 309

Day three hundred nine

September 7, 2013: I suppose it would be worth my time to say why the rest of my family is somewhere else and why I have the house to myself. The rest of the pack went to visit Megan and Shawn to go to some caves but I was unable to go because of cat and work, in that order.

A Scene from Tangled

This was something I wrote when my daily exercise was "write a scene out from a movie." A thought Tangled was a natural pick, as it already has a narrative quality to it. So as you might already guess, it is written in first person from the point of view of Flynn Rider (Eugene Fitzherbert.)

~*~*~*~*~*~

I jolted awake when I felt something wet and sticky slap against the inside of my ear. I shook my head trying to get the feeling out. The state of my ear quickly became less important as I noticed where I was. I was in a deeply shadowed room, but I myself was in a circle of light shining through a large window.

This wasn't what was particularity alarming though. It was the fact that I was tied to a chair.

Tied with long thick cords perhaps I should say locks, of...

Hair?

I pulled against my binds, following the tick sweeps of blond hair as it climbed up the furniture to a beam.

"Struggling is pointless," stuttered the figure crouched on the beam. The voice was that of a young woman, scared and highly unsure of herself, if I had to guess.

This only added to my confusion. Let's make that extreme confusion. One moment I was minding my own business, reveling in my glorious triumph, and about to give that beautiful tiara a closer look when BAM. I felt a jarring bolt across the back of my head, and then I work up in this...situation.

I watched as the girl swung down from the beam, eventually landing on the floor, still deeply covered by the shaodws. She crouched behind a pillar, holding some sort of oddly shaped weapon out in front of her.

"I know why you're here," the girl said in a forced voice, "and I'm not afraid of you."

The girl was obviously terrified, but I was too busy trying to figure out what on earth was going on to bother with telling her so.

The girl finally crept out of the shadows, pulling herself up straight, confusion, a bold attempt at trying not to look scared, and a little excitement. And her eyes were...beautiful. Her face was that of an innocent young girl, mature yet oddly carefree. And her body, dang. She held it a bit awkwardly, but man did that girl have a nice figure, and a pretty face to boot, but I already said that. If I hadn't been tide to ac hair by the thick locks of her, (I still cringe at thinking about it) hair I might have taken her aside right then and there.

"Who are you?" she demanded firmly, the fear no longer as evident in her voice, "and how did you find me?"

"Uh hu," is all I managed to get out. Between my confusion of this entire situation, and my discovery that my captor just happened to be an attractive girl, my usually very collected mind was a bit scattered.

"Who are you and how did you find me?" the girl repeated.

I snapped out of my daze and cleared my throat. 'I know not who you are," (which was perfectly true) "nor how I came to find you," (which was somewhat of a lie,) "but may I just say," (dramatic pause....) "hi." I slapped on my most cocky smile. "How ya' doin'? The name's Flynn Rider."

The girl's only responds was to blink at me. I continued in much the same way as young women often react like this when I layer on the charm. I suppose I'm just overwhelming like that.

"How's it goin'?"

A scowl crossed the face of the girl and she brought that strange looking weapon, (a frying pan of all things, a frying pan) close to my face as if, (of all things,) she was threating me with it.

"Alright blondie..." I said, realizing the girl was not going to be flirted with.

"Rapunzel," the girl snapped.

"Gesundheit," I said rather politely. "Here's the deal. I was in a situation, gallivanting through the forest, when I came across your tower..." that's when it struck me. The reason why I was gallivanting through the forest. I grew ridged in my seat and desperately twisted in the chair, craning my neck in search of it. "Where is my satchel?" I demanded.

"I've hidden it," the girl said smugly as she crossed her arms. "In a place you'll never find it."

My heart quickly calmed as I realized she wasn't working with my bitter cohorts. The most sinister thing about this situation was the fact that the girl seemed a tiny bit unhinged. Not to mention a complete armature. She kept glancing at where she had hit it.

"It's in that pot, isn't it?" I asked flatly, gesturing at the pot.

The girl looked alarmed and her grip on the frying pan shifted. It was only a moment before it smacked against my head before I realized what was going to happen. 

Day 307 and 308

Day three hundred seven

September 5, 2013: School, work, school, work and school at the same time. That is my day today.

Day three hundred eight

September 6, 2013: I will have the house to myself this weekend, and I am going to take advantage of this by doing what any 20 year old would do. I am going to lock myself away and have a little social interaction as possible. That’s what all the kids are doing these days right? I wonder if it’s good or bad that the idea of spending a weekend completely by myself is actually exciting. On one hand it means I’m not partying and doing drugs, but on another society seems to deem that as a symptom of a depressed and withdrawn mind. Ah well, it will be a party of one.

Day 306

Day three hundred six

September 4, 2013: I’m working more this week. Thursday and Saturday. So happy for the work I guess. Work is so annoying. You want it when you don’t have it because the money really would be nice because you are going to college and the more money the better, really. Yet when you actually have to work you’re like all, I hate working.

Day 304 and 305

Day three hundred four

September 2, 2013: Went on a hike today. It was at a water fall, if water fall can be used. It was very slow, and shallow. Nice to wade in.

Day three hundred five

September 3, 2013: I had meant to wear white today, but all of my clean white outfits required denim, which I cannot wear to work. Which is sad, had planned to wear white today in direct defiance of social norm and status quo.

Day 302 and 303

Day three hundred two

August 31, 2013: The sweaters at JCP are giving me a complex. On one hand, it is making me look forward to the warm and cozy months, on the other, it’s still 90^o F outside.

Day three hundred three

September 1, 2013: I have literally been sitting here for the past ten minutes trying to think of something to write. I am too tired for this.