Curse You, Books...

Is there any sane reason why I should be absolutely starving at two in the morning?

Is there any sane reason why I should be awake at two in the morning?

Oh, that's right. I'm crazy. And addicted to literature, be it someone else's creation or my own.

I've worked on Common so much this week that I feel like I've actually accomplished something for once. And that's really saying something, coming from me.

Of course, I feel like I haven't slept in a week, either. Not because I haven't [ex: woke up at 12:45 PM yesterday], but because my sleep schedule is all out of whack. Seems to always happen whenever I get a new idea for a book.

Damn you, writing. You always have to make it difficult...

Whimsy

I bought a ring today. I'm not usually an impulsive person [too practical, gosh darn it] but on a total whim I went to the mall by myself and bought shoes, rings, bread, and ice cream.

The bread was free [courtesy of my employee card], the ice cream was a gift for someone else, the shoes were necessary, and one of the rings was 1/2 off because of a sale [why not?].

But the other ring--my favorite of the two--was a completely impulsive purchase. I don't need another ring. I honestly had no reason to buy it. Yet I did.

It's silver [always silver for me], and is simply three thin silver strands braided around my finger. It's not even real silver--I love cheap jewelry--and probably will be bent out of shape within the next two months.

And I can be confident that it'll be bent because I intend to wear it as often as possible.

It's on the third finger of my left hand, the finger that I normally use for rings just out of habit [most comfortable, least irritating]. But this one means more than the others have.

One strand for who I used to be. One for who I now am. And the third for all the lifetime that connected the two.

It's me being intertwined with my own life, immersing myself in all the little twists that have altered me so completely. Finding reality has consumed my life for so long now... I feel like I'm married to it, to that whole concept.

So on my left hand this ring will stay. I'm married to this reality until someone comes along and offers me a better one.

A better reality, and perhaps a more expensive ring...

Dancing vs. Prancing

Like most five-year-old girls, I like to skip.

Except I'm seventeen.

But I really do skip. I run through the house instead of walking. I dash up the stairs [two at a time!] and dart and prance my way through the halls. It's so much more fun than just forcing myself to go from point A to point B. If makes my life more exciting.

Well, at work, I've tried to control my prancing, just to seem professional. But now that I've gotten to know almost everyone and they all know I'm not a silly ninny, I feel entirely comfortable whistling and humming and skipping about. I love to twirl and spin, too, but I try to avoid that at work, because I usually run into something whenever I try it...

There are also times when prancing just isn't enough. I get a song stuck in my head, and the beat quite literally takes over. The result is dancing, sometimes singing, too. I don't dance or sing at work [don't want to frighten my employers] but when I'm at home I dance all over the place and sing at the top of my lungs. I prefer the house to be empty, but if my mother and brother are home, it usually doesn't bother me.

Do I sing well? Eh, not really. Not at all, actually. I can beat the "easy" level on those singing video games and such, but then again, who can't? [100% on Dead On Arrival, ladies and gentlemen. Be jealous.] Do I dance well? Definitely not. My rhythm is decent but I just can't dance.

And does that bother me in any way?

Nope. :D

Lesson #22 [Extended Version]

Here's what I know.

I am a somewhat intelligent seventeen-year-old female who thrives on the emotions of other human beings.
I am a survivor of the strong type.
It is a guarantee that the clothes I love the most will be the ones that absolutely cannot be made to fit.
I am incredibly selfish when it comes to information and knowledge, but totally selfless whenever I stop to make a wish.
Wishing, in fact, is my biggest childish tendency.
I love food much more than I should, and I am perpetually hungry.
Being "girly" means "being superficial for a few hours" and being "boyish" just means "not fitting the socially accepted mold set for young girls."
I am open-minded and nonconfrontational until offended or provoked.
I drink my tea with honey and just a bit of sugar, and I always burn my tongue.
I want a prestigious education not for the diploma, but for the way an arrogant man's eyes pop open when he hears a girl can do better than he can.
I am morbidly afraid of fire and burns, but not even the least bit afraid of the concept of death.
And everything I know about myself has the potential to change in an instant.


Here's what I thought I knew.

The world is good and kind and loving.
People should always share.
Love and peace make the world go round.
Everyone cares whether I fail or succeed, and there will always be a shoulder to lean on.
Friends are perfect and rarely make mistakes.
Boys will pay attention to you if you're a good person.
You can be more than just an average human if only you dream it to be so.
You won't wake up looking ugly unless you tell yourself that you are.
All people are equal and everyone recognizes this fact.
Torture and war are a part of previous centuries, not the modern day world.
Love conquers all.


Here's what I learned that made the difference between those two.

In general, people are disgusting and messy and too self-absorbed for their own good.
Love is merely an emotion, and it cannot heal all wounds.
Neither can time.
Brains are okay, but wisdom is better, and the only way to gain the latter is to open the eyes and pay attention to reality.
Theories are exactly that--just theories--and the actual outcome can never, ever be guaranteed.
Being different isn't that great after all, but it's sure better than being the same, so it's best to find a middle ground.
Political arguments are pretty much the most ridiculous waste of time I've ever had the displeasure of enduring.
Going "green" doesn't have meaning, because EVERYONE says they're doing it [and they aren't!].
Standing up for what you believe in is stupid unless somebody listens; otherwise, it's just an empty, pointless belief.
Very few people care if you succeed; more will care to see you fail, and that's not really caring, is it?
You actually don't have to forgive people for their mistakes, including yourself, because some sins are too heavy to be shoved under the rug.
You don't have to be entirely rational about forgiveness, either.
Past creates present, and together they make future.
Emotions are honestly and truly choices, though mastering the ability to control them can be a nightmare.
Boys don't give a damn if you're a "good person"--at least, not until they graduate from high school.
"Peace" pretty much can't happen [considering that all the torture and war inhibits it greatly].
You can't wish yourself to look differently.
People actually aren't equal, but it's not race, gender, religion, or age that separates the groups; it's all based on individual value, and no human being has the right to judge another's value.
Everyone wants something from you and by golly, they're going to get it, no matter how much it hurts.
And finally: There is so, so much that I will never understand about this world that to form a permanent opinion about anything would be profoundly and utterly ignorant.

2018 Smiles and Tears

In 1998, my family and I were in Japan during the Winter Olympics. Kind of made me laugh today, sitting and watching the opening ceremony, to think that it's been ten years since I visited Nagano and Osaka and Kariazawa and Asakawa and all those other places...

Ten years from now, I'll be twenty-seven. Based on my current plans, I'll be finished with my doctorate in cognitive psychology and a traveler of lands I've only dreamt of. I'll have finished this book series that rules my life, and perhaps a few others, too.

Married? Eh, we'll see. Same for kids. You can't really plan that, obviously.

But if I had my way, I wouldn't be married at twenty-seven. Hopefully dating--at the very least--and looking forward to being married before I was thirty. And kids? Hmm... Well, maybe. ;]

Where will my sisters be? Pinks will be working her way through med school. Kailey will definitely have kids [25 or 26 by the time she's done, minimally]. Cassie will be "out in the business world" and making loads of money. Maddy will be happy, no matter where she is [probably off doing physics and playing, oh, ten or twenty instruments].

Funny story... Yesterday Pinks and I were at Cassie's for the night, just chilling and having a splendid time. We were also complaining for quite awhile about how everything sucks, including our own selves.

So now we're the Fups. As in F-ups [pronounced "fuhps," though, one syllable]. Tehehe. We mess it all up and still stay standing at the end. I'm going to make our story into a book. Seriously. I would so read a book if it contained the word "Fups" in the title...

Ah. I love my sisters. No matter what we do--"burn down the basement" with 10 tea candles and a whole box of matches, nibble on everything in Cassie's pantry, take 1,543,987,624 different roads just to get to 19 Mile [which is the mile road I live off of, mind you]--we do it without grace, with many laughs, and with the knowledge that nothing will ever, ever be this perfect.

A Few Tiny Things

Breaking Dawn.

Do I actually need to continue? Well, I will anyway. Holy crap. What a freaking amazing book! No spoilers here--I promise--but I've read it twice since Saturday at 12:01 and it pretty much changed my world. All I can think about.

Thank you, Stephenie Meyer, for existing and writing books. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you.

Some other things... My senior pictures are on the 13th. Should be fun. Kailey's coming with me [I went with her] and I've already got all my clothes picked out. The shot I'm most excited about is the one I'm doing with sheet music, in my black and red dress. :] :]

Heiress and Common and Emperor are absolutely nowhere near finished. Nowhere. Still stuck in the same rut as before, I'm afraid. However, Heiress will be worked on soon, because I've got some handwritten continuations [that I wrote on hotel paper in Chicago] to add to the typed version, and that ought to inspire me further.

Sad fact: I will not have published a book by the time I turn eighteen. It's the goal I've had since I was six, and it will not be met.

Sigh. I can't say I'm not upset about this, because I am. But honestly, what more could I have done? An editor has my book sitting on her desk, and she's been too busy to call me back. I don't have any magic strings to pull... Well, maybe before I graduate from college. Sounds more reasonable, I think.

Still irks me, though.

I'm also in the middle of writing a song right now. I much prefer writing novels, but it's self-satisfying somehow. I already have the words--I've had them written since I was maybe ten [garage band, Pinks? Remember those days?]--but I have to hammer out the melody via piano chords. I'm not going to try anything ridiculously fancy, because I pretty much suck at writing music, but I figure having a solid piano melody should fulfill this strange need I have to finish this song.

It's not even that good of a song, and yet I feel obligated to complete it. Sigh.

Work has been...work. Same as forever. Love it and hate it simultaneously. I won't deny that I have a blast with my coworkers and managers [I absolutely adore them], but angry customers piss me off. Royally. They love to assume I'm some sort of idiot because I have a job at a restaurant; they forget that smart kids have to make money, too, and we have to settle for whatever we can find. Working a register does not diminish my IQ, I believe, and customers would do well to remember that.

Honestly, why would you ever mess with the people who handle your food, anyway?

That's all I'll rant about for today. Not because I don't have more to say, but because I'm out of time. Gotta shower and make myself presentable so my mother and I can go comforter shopping...

Catch you on the flipside, kids. [ahhhh Cassie :P]