Hey, I have a new blog now.
It's much more well thought-out than this one, and I have better ideas for posts. Also, I decided I liked WordPress better than Blogger.
Here it is: http://lifeisaclambar.wordpress.com/
Peace.
Monday, December 22, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
Relationships
...are complicated. No, I'm not talking in a still-getting-over-Tony (what I've been calling my ex-boyfriend) kind of way. Though I will admit, Tony's told me that he's liked other girls in the 11 months since we broke up and I am just the tiniest bit jealous. Not because I still like him. It's just that we had a lot and now I don't know if it meant anything.
Anyway, I'm getting off track. Tony's been having a lot of problems with a certain girl he likes- I won't go into detail; that would be rude to him. I've been having problems too, but not really because of people I'm attracted to. They don't exist.
Tony and I are still really good friends, and we tend to trust each other. And Tony is a really good person. In fact, he's too good of a person. He's a rock for the entire world and no one ever supports him, including me. Well, things got really bad for him last week and I've been trying to help him out and he keeps telling me not to because I have my own problems, and I keep telling him not to worry about me because he already worries about too many other people, meanwhile I'm worrying about him.
Do you see the problem here? We need to meet in the middle somehow so we can both help each other, but there's no way for that to happen. Which is rare- I'm generally not that nice and mostly don't care about other peoples' problems; they can deal with it. Except I really care about Tony, and he's the only person I trust. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows what's going on with him, too. So it's really a big mess. In my opinion, there can be a situation where friends are too close and nice to each other and me and Tony are in it. It isn't necessarily a bad thing until both of you get hurt worse. And I'm more worried about Tony than me because he worries about everyone and everything, and people always talk to him because he tries to help people; that's just what he does.
Most people could stand to be a little more like him, and he could stand to be a little more like everyone else. What's your opinion? Have you ever been in this situation, and if so, how did it turn out?
Anyway, I'm getting off track. Tony's been having a lot of problems with a certain girl he likes- I won't go into detail; that would be rude to him. I've been having problems too, but not really because of people I'm attracted to. They don't exist.
Tony and I are still really good friends, and we tend to trust each other. And Tony is a really good person. In fact, he's too good of a person. He's a rock for the entire world and no one ever supports him, including me. Well, things got really bad for him last week and I've been trying to help him out and he keeps telling me not to because I have my own problems, and I keep telling him not to worry about me because he already worries about too many other people, meanwhile I'm worrying about him.
Do you see the problem here? We need to meet in the middle somehow so we can both help each other, but there's no way for that to happen. Which is rare- I'm generally not that nice and mostly don't care about other peoples' problems; they can deal with it. Except I really care about Tony, and he's the only person I trust. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows what's going on with him, too. So it's really a big mess. In my opinion, there can be a situation where friends are too close and nice to each other and me and Tony are in it. It isn't necessarily a bad thing until both of you get hurt worse. And I'm more worried about Tony than me because he worries about everyone and everything, and people always talk to him because he tries to help people; that's just what he does.
Most people could stand to be a little more like him, and he could stand to be a little more like everyone else. What's your opinion? Have you ever been in this situation, and if so, how did it turn out?
Monday, November 17, 2014
How I Can't Write Realistic Fiction, or Why I Haven't Posted in a Month
So my NaNo is not going so well.
Mainly because I have no plot- plots? What are those? Am I, the sci-fi and adventure writer, supposed to come up with a good, historical/realistic fiction plot?
Or maybe the issue isn't in my plot, it's in my subplots, or lack thereof. So this is my admission that I am desperate. Halfway through NaNo, I am having some serious issues coming up with what to write for my next 19,000 words because most of the 21,000 I have so far are utterly useless and are so far, separate parts of the novel that are standing alone. I made a post on the YWP asking for help a few days ago, and it has garnered exactly one response (thanks Desiree!!), so I'm posting it here in hopes that my very very few reader(s) has/have not given up on me and my lack of posts.
Title: I have no subplots and my main plot is too depressing.
(Before I begin, there may be some triggers in my plot. Just to let you know).
"My story is set in the 1960's. In the beginning (part 1), my main character (Emma's) dad is drafted for the Vietnam War, so she gets sent from New York to go live with her Aunt Lucille and cousin Johnny in Montana. Kids make fun of her for being a 'city kid', Johnny can't stand her, and her aunt treats her badly because of her father. Emma does make a friend at school, though, Annie, and she walks to and from school with an older boy named Rory who lives nearby. She also finds advice and a close friend in her neighbor, an old man named Mr. Hansen. Through all of this, Emma writes letters to her father and gets one in return. Her sunt finds it and burns it because she says he is a bad influence on Emma. Part 1 ends with Mr. Hansen having a heart attack and dying, and Emma feeling like it's her fault because she was with him earlier in the day and so upset about her aunt burning the letter that she does not notice the symptoms he is about to have a heart attack.
Part 2: Emma runs away after his death and she's kind of starting to learn that people aren't all honest. The part ends when she finds out her father died 2 years ago, right after she received the first letter, because that was when he committed suicide. He was never drafted for Vietnam, he went to prison for some things that aren't NaNo appropriate and didn't want Emma to know because she was only 11 when he was convicted.
Part 3: I don't even know what happens except that Emma is depressed, and at some point Rory (who is 3 or 4 years older than her) graduates high school and leaves for college, serving only to make her more depressed. It ends with her finding her father's suicide note because she was curious enough to go look through the box her friend sent her three years ago at the end of Part 2. (Before this, she hadn't brought herself to read anything but her father's obituary.)
Part 4: I have no clue what happens except that somehow Emma gets through it and at the end of the novel she is 18, graduating high school, and about to go back to New York.
Basically, I have the main things I want to happen, but not all of it can be so depressing because no one wants to read that. Also, I have to have some stuff in between or it makes no sense, just jumping from one point to the next. I have Emma narrating the past up to the end of Part 3, which then goes to the present tense, so some of that stuff is a little out of order just because of her reflecting and how she remembers it. But currently, there is nothing happy, and no subplots, and that's a problem. Also, Annie is currently a useless character because she's a quiet bookworm and Emma is the complete opposite so I don't know what to do with her. I also don't know what to do with Johnny after part one. He's a year older than Emma, a teacher's pet, and a big superior jerk.
I need help."
...Aannnnyyone?
Mainly because I have no plot- plots? What are those? Am I, the sci-fi and adventure writer, supposed to come up with a good, historical/realistic fiction plot?
Or maybe the issue isn't in my plot, it's in my subplots, or lack thereof. So this is my admission that I am desperate. Halfway through NaNo, I am having some serious issues coming up with what to write for my next 19,000 words because most of the 21,000 I have so far are utterly useless and are so far, separate parts of the novel that are standing alone. I made a post on the YWP asking for help a few days ago, and it has garnered exactly one response (thanks Desiree!!), so I'm posting it here in hopes that my very very few reader(s) has/have not given up on me and my lack of posts.
Title: I have no subplots and my main plot is too depressing.
(Before I begin, there may be some triggers in my plot. Just to let you know).
"My story is set in the 1960's. In the beginning (part 1), my main character (Emma's) dad is drafted for the Vietnam War, so she gets sent from New York to go live with her Aunt Lucille and cousin Johnny in Montana. Kids make fun of her for being a 'city kid', Johnny can't stand her, and her aunt treats her badly because of her father. Emma does make a friend at school, though, Annie, and she walks to and from school with an older boy named Rory who lives nearby. She also finds advice and a close friend in her neighbor, an old man named Mr. Hansen. Through all of this, Emma writes letters to her father and gets one in return. Her sunt finds it and burns it because she says he is a bad influence on Emma. Part 1 ends with Mr. Hansen having a heart attack and dying, and Emma feeling like it's her fault because she was with him earlier in the day and so upset about her aunt burning the letter that she does not notice the symptoms he is about to have a heart attack.
Part 2: Emma runs away after his death and she's kind of starting to learn that people aren't all honest. The part ends when she finds out her father died 2 years ago, right after she received the first letter, because that was when he committed suicide. He was never drafted for Vietnam, he went to prison for some things that aren't NaNo appropriate and didn't want Emma to know because she was only 11 when he was convicted.
Part 3: I don't even know what happens except that Emma is depressed, and at some point Rory (who is 3 or 4 years older than her) graduates high school and leaves for college, serving only to make her more depressed. It ends with her finding her father's suicide note because she was curious enough to go look through the box her friend sent her three years ago at the end of Part 2. (Before this, she hadn't brought herself to read anything but her father's obituary.)
Part 4: I have no clue what happens except that somehow Emma gets through it and at the end of the novel she is 18, graduating high school, and about to go back to New York.
Basically, I have the main things I want to happen, but not all of it can be so depressing because no one wants to read that. Also, I have to have some stuff in between or it makes no sense, just jumping from one point to the next. I have Emma narrating the past up to the end of Part 3, which then goes to the present tense, so some of that stuff is a little out of order just because of her reflecting and how she remembers it. But currently, there is nothing happy, and no subplots, and that's a problem. Also, Annie is currently a useless character because she's a quiet bookworm and Emma is the complete opposite so I don't know what to do with her. I also don't know what to do with Johnny after part one. He's a year older than Emma, a teacher's pet, and a big superior jerk.
I need help."
...Aannnnyyone?
Friday, October 24, 2014
Why I Love Running
First of all, I'm just going to say that one doesn't love running unless they're crazy. Which, all runners to some point are. We're an obsessive people: We can't stand missing training days, were pour over race results endlessly, we get anxious if we don't think we worked hard enough on a particular day, we will run even when we shouldn't. And we cry when we absolutely can't.
But it's all for a good reason. There just something special about it- the rhythmic thud of shoes hitting the pavement, the beat of your heart, your steady breaths. And the bliss in the solitude of running by yourself or the faithful camaraderie of being right next to just a few other people. It reminds you that you're alive, and you can do this, no matter how much you want to stop. You can feel yourself getting stronger with each step you take, and if you've been running for awhile, you remind yourself that you're good at this. Most people can't go out and do what you're doing.
If you're a beginner, there's the power in starting something new. Running tires you out- but when you're new, your legs are fresh. I remember what made me start running distance. I was in grade seven and had always loved to run. I begged my mom to let me do middle school cross country and track and wasn't willing to give up on running even when she said she wouldn't let me. She told me that I'd never be able to run very fast and I'd practice for nothing. No one in my family had ever tried running (or any sport) before and she didn't like sports. So I did some research and found out that my local community center had a youth running club. It was only two days a week, so my mom let me sign up to see if I really liked it.
The first day of practice, I ran the most brutal 4 kilometers of my life. I liked running, sure, but I never realized that it'd be that... hard to go long and not fast, like in tag. My first kilometer took me 6 minutes, and after that I got knocked to 7 minutes, then 9, then 8 once I realized how slow 9 minutes was.
But slowly, I improved. We did a 10k race at the end and even though I ran 71 minutes, it was still about 7 minutes per kilometer for each lap, nowhere near the 9 minutes I had done on the first day. So I kept running. Not much, but I kept the muscle memory I gained in 7th grade and never again ran like I did that first day. I did my school's winter running club in 8th grade. Youth running club again in 9th.
And then my mom let me do cross country. Except for maybe writing, I have never found something I liked better and I can't understand for the life of me why more people don't run. Maybe it really is because only crazy masochists who enjoy the pain like it. The season is over now and I don't know what to do with myself except run. I dropped 4 minutes in my 5k and I don't plan to gain them back any time soon. I'm not running as much as I did in practice because everyone is supposed to take time off since cross country exhausts your body. But my running routes aren't restricted to my neighbourhood anymore and there's something about the freedom of looking at your watch and saying to yourself, "I have 45 minutes. Where do I want to go?" And just... going until you have to come back. I did just over 5 miles today and I'm sore as heck because I have a cold and I was already tired, but I wouldn't give anything for how good it makes me feel when I look back and tell myself, "I did that. For 45 minutes of my life I had complete freedom and I chose to do that, go there, and I know that I wouldn't trade the ability to run for the world."
But it's all for a good reason. There just something special about it- the rhythmic thud of shoes hitting the pavement, the beat of your heart, your steady breaths. And the bliss in the solitude of running by yourself or the faithful camaraderie of being right next to just a few other people. It reminds you that you're alive, and you can do this, no matter how much you want to stop. You can feel yourself getting stronger with each step you take, and if you've been running for awhile, you remind yourself that you're good at this. Most people can't go out and do what you're doing.
If you're a beginner, there's the power in starting something new. Running tires you out- but when you're new, your legs are fresh. I remember what made me start running distance. I was in grade seven and had always loved to run. I begged my mom to let me do middle school cross country and track and wasn't willing to give up on running even when she said she wouldn't let me. She told me that I'd never be able to run very fast and I'd practice for nothing. No one in my family had ever tried running (or any sport) before and she didn't like sports. So I did some research and found out that my local community center had a youth running club. It was only two days a week, so my mom let me sign up to see if I really liked it.
The first day of practice, I ran the most brutal 4 kilometers of my life. I liked running, sure, but I never realized that it'd be that... hard to go long and not fast, like in tag. My first kilometer took me 6 minutes, and after that I got knocked to 7 minutes, then 9, then 8 once I realized how slow 9 minutes was.
But slowly, I improved. We did a 10k race at the end and even though I ran 71 minutes, it was still about 7 minutes per kilometer for each lap, nowhere near the 9 minutes I had done on the first day. So I kept running. Not much, but I kept the muscle memory I gained in 7th grade and never again ran like I did that first day. I did my school's winter running club in 8th grade. Youth running club again in 9th.
And then my mom let me do cross country. Except for maybe writing, I have never found something I liked better and I can't understand for the life of me why more people don't run. Maybe it really is because only crazy masochists who enjoy the pain like it. The season is over now and I don't know what to do with myself except run. I dropped 4 minutes in my 5k and I don't plan to gain them back any time soon. I'm not running as much as I did in practice because everyone is supposed to take time off since cross country exhausts your body. But my running routes aren't restricted to my neighbourhood anymore and there's something about the freedom of looking at your watch and saying to yourself, "I have 45 minutes. Where do I want to go?" And just... going until you have to come back. I did just over 5 miles today and I'm sore as heck because I have a cold and I was already tired, but I wouldn't give anything for how good it makes me feel when I look back and tell myself, "I did that. For 45 minutes of my life I had complete freedom and I chose to do that, go there, and I know that I wouldn't trade the ability to run for the world."
Monday, October 20, 2014
My Case Against Homework
Now, I'm not trying to sound like a lazy or overly rebellious student. Believe me, I'm not- I've gotten straight A's almost my entire life. I do my homework, or did. Lately I've just been doing enough to make it look like I did all my homework and it isn't out of laziness. School burnout, exhaustion, and a literal mental overload caused by the sheer amount of homework I have all play a part.
During the cross country season, I get home around 5:00, shower, eat dinner, and usually begin homework around 6. That should give me plenty of time to do my homework, have some actual downtime to interact with my family, and go to bed by 9:30 so I get the recommended minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. But that simply isn't the case. On a typical night, my homework is done around 10:30 -without procrastination!- then I get ready for bed and am usually asleep by 11. So on a typical weeknight I am only getting about 6 and a half hours of sleep, not even in the same locale as 8 hours. Then, I get up for school the next morning, get through the 7 hour day, run practice, and everlasting study and homework cycle repeats.
Okay, so that's for someone who participates in a sport. What about someone who comes directly home from school every day? This hypothetical person arrives home at 3:00, eats a snack, and starts their homework at 3:15. They then do homework for two hours and eat dinner. If dinner takes about a half hour, this should bring them to 6:15. And assuming they have the same amount of homework as me and most people I know, they still have 2 and a half hours left. Which brings them to 8:45. They now have plenty of time to get ready for bed and be asleep at 9:30, but what about social development? Schools and teachers too often discourage this in favour of doing more schoolwork, but should they really scoff at this idea of a social life so easily?
As adults, life won't be all work and no play, and there's a reason for that: it leads to mental burnout. Studies show that the average high schooler today has the same level of anxiety as a typical psychiatric patient in the 1950's. The amount of schoolwork we are given is literally pushing us to the point of insanity. Besides, teenagers will need to have certain social skills that they can't learn from discussing only school-related topics with their peers, and in the real world, as can be inferred from above, they will have time for this. A full time job works 40 hours per week- 8 hours each day Monday-Friday with weekends off. I understand the notion of working overtime and having to tend to certain events, but they certainly don't take up the rest of your time with sheer deskwork that is too often also busywork. School goes 7 hours a day Monday-Friday; therefore, to really prepare high school students for the real world they should not have more than 5-8 hours of homework per week (accounting for overtime), and certainly not 4 and a half per night.
In conclusion, schools should give less homework for the sake of students' health, both mental and physical, and to develop important social skills. As a teacher I had in grade eight once quoted, "Don't let your education get in the way of your education."
During the cross country season, I get home around 5:00, shower, eat dinner, and usually begin homework around 6. That should give me plenty of time to do my homework, have some actual downtime to interact with my family, and go to bed by 9:30 so I get the recommended minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. But that simply isn't the case. On a typical night, my homework is done around 10:30 -without procrastination!- then I get ready for bed and am usually asleep by 11. So on a typical weeknight I am only getting about 6 and a half hours of sleep, not even in the same locale as 8 hours. Then, I get up for school the next morning, get through the 7 hour day, run practice, and everlasting study and homework cycle repeats.
Okay, so that's for someone who participates in a sport. What about someone who comes directly home from school every day? This hypothetical person arrives home at 3:00, eats a snack, and starts their homework at 3:15. They then do homework for two hours and eat dinner. If dinner takes about a half hour, this should bring them to 6:15. And assuming they have the same amount of homework as me and most people I know, they still have 2 and a half hours left. Which brings them to 8:45. They now have plenty of time to get ready for bed and be asleep at 9:30, but what about social development? Schools and teachers too often discourage this in favour of doing more schoolwork, but should they really scoff at this idea of a social life so easily?
As adults, life won't be all work and no play, and there's a reason for that: it leads to mental burnout. Studies show that the average high schooler today has the same level of anxiety as a typical psychiatric patient in the 1950's. The amount of schoolwork we are given is literally pushing us to the point of insanity. Besides, teenagers will need to have certain social skills that they can't learn from discussing only school-related topics with their peers, and in the real world, as can be inferred from above, they will have time for this. A full time job works 40 hours per week- 8 hours each day Monday-Friday with weekends off. I understand the notion of working overtime and having to tend to certain events, but they certainly don't take up the rest of your time with sheer deskwork that is too often also busywork. School goes 7 hours a day Monday-Friday; therefore, to really prepare high school students for the real world they should not have more than 5-8 hours of homework per week (accounting for overtime), and certainly not 4 and a half per night.
In conclusion, schools should give less homework for the sake of students' health, both mental and physical, and to develop important social skills. As a teacher I had in grade eight once quoted, "Don't let your education get in the way of your education."
Sunday, October 12, 2014
New NaNo, new genre
For this year's NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month), I'm venturing into the place where no one I know in real life would ever expect to find me (and that's just how I want it): Historical Fiction. Usually, I'm a dystopian and sci-fi kind of person to the extreme point where my characters aren't always recognizable as human beings with relatable emotions and abilities anymore: you know what I'm talking about. While Tris and Katniss may be awesome, and sure, there are some ways you can tell they're human, who is actually in a situation that would be familiar to either of them? (And conversely, is their situation ever familiar to you?) I'm not saying anything against stories like that -I enjoyed those trilogies as much as the next person- but I wanted something more realistic, closer to home.
I hated history in every form -subject, class, the grades I get in history class- until I decided to set my story in the Vietnam War era. Then I found myself researching the Vietnam War... on my own time. The history isn't my favorite part of it, but I do love being able to put myself in the shoes of the daughter of a man who was drafted for the war. While I'm 15 years old and obviously have never experienced my father being drafted for war like my main character, Emma, has, I can still put her in a realistic world and have her live a realistic life that honestly, most people can relate to. They know what she's talking about. She's going to school, trying to make friends, trying to fit into a new place, and even if you've never been the new kid, she still goes home every day and to sleep every night and she's not on a train to a capitol where she's going to shoot bows and arrows, and she isn't climbing abandoned ferris wheels and taking aptitude tests. She's doing what you do. And to me, that makes it so much easier to get into a novel and connect with characters.
I've always loved reading sci-fi and dystopian for the fast pace and crazy suspense and adventure, but if I had to pick favorites every single one that comes to mind is realistic or historical fiction. Summer Hawk by Deborah Savage and Waiting For Normal by Leslie Connor come to mind.
I've never written in this genre before and I'm not sure how it will go, but I'm actually doing preplanning for this year's Nano (!), and I can already see how much more I have than when I was writing sci-fi and had a tendency to jump from one plot point to the next without developing my characters as human beings. Last year, I was focusing on having my characters running away from a sinister government that wanted to experiment on them and throwing in some awkward romance scenes without bothering to ask what they were running from. Why was the government sinister? What happened that changed our world into theirs? Why did a genetic mutation come about allowing them to be struck by lightning? It couldn't just be random, that goes against everything dictated by biology. And I didn't want to focus on the running, hiding, motion. I wanted to zoom in on the small moments that come in a world that, while it may change to make sci-fi reality someday, isn't so alien yet. Or even a time, like the 1960's, where the modern world was evolving but yet still simpler than today.
A time I and the readers can understand. And that's why writing in a different genre is so important to me. Because it isn't new, and different, not really, and I'm starting to get older and see that it isn't about being the first, or furthest ahead- for me at least, it's about creating what I know and making it beautiful.
Are you planning to participate in NaNoWriMo? If so, what are your plans? Plot? Characters? Genre?
How do you want to make your readers feel?
I hated history in every form -subject, class, the grades I get in history class- until I decided to set my story in the Vietnam War era. Then I found myself researching the Vietnam War... on my own time. The history isn't my favorite part of it, but I do love being able to put myself in the shoes of the daughter of a man who was drafted for the war. While I'm 15 years old and obviously have never experienced my father being drafted for war like my main character, Emma, has, I can still put her in a realistic world and have her live a realistic life that honestly, most people can relate to. They know what she's talking about. She's going to school, trying to make friends, trying to fit into a new place, and even if you've never been the new kid, she still goes home every day and to sleep every night and she's not on a train to a capitol where she's going to shoot bows and arrows, and she isn't climbing abandoned ferris wheels and taking aptitude tests. She's doing what you do. And to me, that makes it so much easier to get into a novel and connect with characters.
I've always loved reading sci-fi and dystopian for the fast pace and crazy suspense and adventure, but if I had to pick favorites every single one that comes to mind is realistic or historical fiction. Summer Hawk by Deborah Savage and Waiting For Normal by Leslie Connor come to mind.
I've never written in this genre before and I'm not sure how it will go, but I'm actually doing preplanning for this year's Nano (!), and I can already see how much more I have than when I was writing sci-fi and had a tendency to jump from one plot point to the next without developing my characters as human beings. Last year, I was focusing on having my characters running away from a sinister government that wanted to experiment on them and throwing in some awkward romance scenes without bothering to ask what they were running from. Why was the government sinister? What happened that changed our world into theirs? Why did a genetic mutation come about allowing them to be struck by lightning? It couldn't just be random, that goes against everything dictated by biology. And I didn't want to focus on the running, hiding, motion. I wanted to zoom in on the small moments that come in a world that, while it may change to make sci-fi reality someday, isn't so alien yet. Or even a time, like the 1960's, where the modern world was evolving but yet still simpler than today.
A time I and the readers can understand. And that's why writing in a different genre is so important to me. Because it isn't new, and different, not really, and I'm starting to get older and see that it isn't about being the first, or furthest ahead- for me at least, it's about creating what I know and making it beautiful.
Are you planning to participate in NaNoWriMo? If so, what are your plans? Plot? Characters? Genre?
How do you want to make your readers feel?
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Querencia
This weekend, our assignment for English class was to fill out a few charts about our Querencia, and then write a page describing it. The word "querencia" is Spanish, meaning a safe place, one that molds to your character and just where you feel the most at home out of anywhere in the whole world. It has its origins in the verb "querer", which means to want, desire, or even to love.
Maybe your querencia is in a simple a place as your own bedroom; or maybe, it's a vacation spot you've been to once and never gone back there. Or like mine- a place I've never been to before that I want so badly to create.
It sits in the mountains in the North, a tiny log cabin with only a small cleared yard and a trodden dirt path leading up to it, swallowed entirely by a vast wilderness. Inside the cabin lies a room, a room where anything is possible. The floors are wooden and the walls are white, the only adornments floor length curtains rustling in the breeze that slips through an open bay window.
My only two possessions in the whole room are a pen, a small, beat-up journal, and a netbook. That's where I'll do all my research and make the infant ideas in the journal blossom into something more that I probably never imagined they could be. Though the room is bare it is never empty or unlived in, for each day I paint the walls with my mind, decorating them with posters, photographs, characters. Lives. Lives that bustle through all the days when I am gone, be them blustery snowdrifts, cool crisp apple-days, storms of flowers and lightning, or settled mildly warm hazes. Yet only when I come do the voices rise into a silent cacophony that fills the air with at once nothing and everything, drowning out the howling wolves and chirping birds that nothing can understand except querencia.
Where is your querencia? Is it in the woods, by the beach, in the city? Noisy or quiet- or both? Tell me!
Maybe your querencia is in a simple a place as your own bedroom; or maybe, it's a vacation spot you've been to once and never gone back there. Or like mine- a place I've never been to before that I want so badly to create.
It sits in the mountains in the North, a tiny log cabin with only a small cleared yard and a trodden dirt path leading up to it, swallowed entirely by a vast wilderness. Inside the cabin lies a room, a room where anything is possible. The floors are wooden and the walls are white, the only adornments floor length curtains rustling in the breeze that slips through an open bay window.
My only two possessions in the whole room are a pen, a small, beat-up journal, and a netbook. That's where I'll do all my research and make the infant ideas in the journal blossom into something more that I probably never imagined they could be. Though the room is bare it is never empty or unlived in, for each day I paint the walls with my mind, decorating them with posters, photographs, characters. Lives. Lives that bustle through all the days when I am gone, be them blustery snowdrifts, cool crisp apple-days, storms of flowers and lightning, or settled mildly warm hazes. Yet only when I come do the voices rise into a silent cacophony that fills the air with at once nothing and everything, drowning out the howling wolves and chirping birds that nothing can understand except querencia.
Where is your querencia? Is it in the woods, by the beach, in the city? Noisy or quiet- or both? Tell me!
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Pepe Le Pew takes a vacation
A few mornings ago, right when I was getting ready for school, we discovered by means of scent that we have a celebrity visiting. His name is Peppy Le Pew, and my lucky dog had the pleasure of a face-to-butt meeting with him.
More specifically, dog's face, skunk's butt.
We don't know much about how long Peppy is staying- does he live here now, or is he just passing through and wanted to draw attention from the North American crowd? We really hope he isn't taking up permanent residence because he isn't a very good guest, as you could probably imagine. He's caused nothing but trouble: runs to the pharmacy for hydrogen peroxide, and multiple washes per day with baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and vinegar. He's also a costly guest: besides the hydrogen peroxide, we lost the dog's collar, a leather computer case, and two doormats to the stench.
And of course, there's the effect that having a celebrity stay at your house causes at school. You know how it is with celebrities; they're either really good, or really bad, and you can imagine which category our dear Peppy falls into. I had to warn everyone all day long that I smelled like skunk because of my poor dog getting sprayed and bringing it in the house. On the plus side, I got free vanilla hand sanitizer because my friend decided she couldn't stand it anymore. :D
The dog still smells, but it isn't as bad, and the house only smells in really specific areas, like where he lies down a lot or where he greets us at the door. Thanks, Peppy!
More specifically, dog's face, skunk's butt.
We don't know much about how long Peppy is staying- does he live here now, or is he just passing through and wanted to draw attention from the North American crowd? We really hope he isn't taking up permanent residence because he isn't a very good guest, as you could probably imagine. He's caused nothing but trouble: runs to the pharmacy for hydrogen peroxide, and multiple washes per day with baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and vinegar. He's also a costly guest: besides the hydrogen peroxide, we lost the dog's collar, a leather computer case, and two doormats to the stench.
And of course, there's the effect that having a celebrity stay at your house causes at school. You know how it is with celebrities; they're either really good, or really bad, and you can imagine which category our dear Peppy falls into. I had to warn everyone all day long that I smelled like skunk because of my poor dog getting sprayed and bringing it in the house. On the plus side, I got free vanilla hand sanitizer because my friend decided she couldn't stand it anymore. :D
The dog still smells, but it isn't as bad, and the house only smells in really specific areas, like where he lies down a lot or where he greets us at the door. Thanks, Peppy!
Friday, August 22, 2014
*falls over and turns into happy puddle*
On Monday we had our first cross country meet and I PRed (Personal Record) by 6 minutes and 29 seconds. My official time was 25 minutes and 19 seconds for the 5k, which thrilled me, and then we found out that the course was about 400 meters too long. That made me mad because it was a school meet and they should have changed it, but it also means my actual time, assuming I kept the same pace, was about 23:30. :D Yay! I also moved up on the team, from 60 out of 126 to 48 out of 126. I want to move up a speed group soon. Besides the fact that the second group has dri-fit shirts, and the third, wher eI am now, has polyester. Which is light, but still.
Dri-fit.
We have another meet tomorrow and I really want to get under 24:30. My goal is 25 though... just in case the 400 extra meters didn't exist. Also, I have a very hard time believing that I ran it in 23:30. That just sounds crazy fast. I know I was going fast... But was I really under an 8 minute mile? A 5 minute kilometer?
I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
I need good blog post ideas.
Dri-fit.
We have another meet tomorrow and I really want to get under 24:30. My goal is 25 though... just in case the 400 extra meters didn't exist. Also, I have a very hard time believing that I ran it in 23:30. That just sounds crazy fast. I know I was going fast... But was I really under an 8 minute mile? A 5 minute kilometer?
I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
I need good blog post ideas.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Six Word Memoirs
Welcome to the I'm-too-lazy-to-write-a-proper-post post!
So school started on Thursday, and our first English assignment is a six word memoir. In case you don't know, that's a story that encompasses your entire lfe or a significant piece of it in 6 words. We have to draw a picture for a background by Monday, and the teacer said to not spend too much time on it, but hey- I have water-colour pencils and too much free time. So I don't really care if it takes me two hours, this thing is going to be elaborate and over the top because... I don't know. That's what I do. It's fun. The one I'm going with is "Lost in this God forsaken city". I'm going to create a grey cityscape background with yellow in the windows on buildings and for the words. The other ones I came up with are:
-Snow capped pines fill my horizon
-Someone get me out of here
-I don't know what's going on
CAn you come up with any? Do you ave any from the past? Tell me about them!
So school started on Thursday, and our first English assignment is a six word memoir. In case you don't know, that's a story that encompasses your entire lfe or a significant piece of it in 6 words. We have to draw a picture for a background by Monday, and the teacer said to not spend too much time on it, but hey- I have water-colour pencils and too much free time. So I don't really care if it takes me two hours, this thing is going to be elaborate and over the top because... I don't know. That's what I do. It's fun. The one I'm going with is "Lost in this God forsaken city". I'm going to create a grey cityscape background with yellow in the windows on buildings and for the words. The other ones I came up with are:
-Snow capped pines fill my horizon
-Someone get me out of here
-I don't know what's going on
CAn you come up with any? Do you ave any from the past? Tell me about them!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
I feel sick.
Okay, so sorry I haven't posted but we went on vacation and I've been super busy with Camp Nano and summer homework and cross country and a week from today is the first day of school.
And I've just been having some seriously bad luck lately.
Yesterday, I think I may have downloaded a computer virus. I clicked on a website and got a big scary message that said it was from Interpol! I tried to close out of the internet, but it wouldn't let me do anything and... I was really scared. After freaking out and convinceing myself that it had to be a scam, I forced my computer into shutdown and restarted it, to find that the message on my browser was gone without a trace. I looked it up in my search engine and it turns out this is a computer virus!!!!!
Great.
It doesn't help that something in the message is my newest trigger, and a few days before yesterday I got triggered really badly from a situation that it was in that I'd been hoping not to remember. I've had three panic attacks since last night and..... I don't even know. I typed something about it into a letter on ywp nanowrimo and there's a chance my irl best friend saw it and I love her but I don't want her to know I have problems with that sort of thing.
Also, I didn't get enough sleep last night and yesterday in cross country we ran a steep 3/4 mile hill five times. So today during the run I was sore, tired, and then I almost had a panic attack in the middle of it. Thankfully, that one was prevented.
Then I went to the eye doctor and got contacts! Which is nice, because it means I no longer have to wear glasses while running. However, it looks really different through contacts than glasses and I had a maor headache after three and a half hours, and I was hungry, and my mom had looked at my computer and said she didn't think anything needed to be done about it if there was a virus, but I am so darn nervous and my brother was going through his usual extensive list of everything he finds wrong with me...
and I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Great. Great just great!!!! Wow! Good job, Anna. You rock. UGH!!!!!!!! ksdahfqicwjketc Second time in a month that I've thrown up because of anxiety problems piling up on top of each other. I'm seriously going to lose it.
Sorry for the negative post. But I'm really having a hard time right now. Sometimes, the world just doesn't like me much and this is one of those times.
And I've just been having some seriously bad luck lately.
Yesterday, I think I may have downloaded a computer virus. I clicked on a website and got a big scary message that said it was from Interpol! I tried to close out of the internet, but it wouldn't let me do anything and... I was really scared. After freaking out and convinceing myself that it had to be a scam, I forced my computer into shutdown and restarted it, to find that the message on my browser was gone without a trace. I looked it up in my search engine and it turns out this is a computer virus!!!!!
Great.
It doesn't help that something in the message is my newest trigger, and a few days before yesterday I got triggered really badly from a situation that it was in that I'd been hoping not to remember. I've had three panic attacks since last night and..... I don't even know. I typed something about it into a letter on ywp nanowrimo and there's a chance my irl best friend saw it and I love her but I don't want her to know I have problems with that sort of thing.
Also, I didn't get enough sleep last night and yesterday in cross country we ran a steep 3/4 mile hill five times. So today during the run I was sore, tired, and then I almost had a panic attack in the middle of it. Thankfully, that one was prevented.
Then I went to the eye doctor and got contacts! Which is nice, because it means I no longer have to wear glasses while running. However, it looks really different through contacts than glasses and I had a maor headache after three and a half hours, and I was hungry, and my mom had looked at my computer and said she didn't think anything needed to be done about it if there was a virus, but I am so darn nervous and my brother was going through his usual extensive list of everything he finds wrong with me...
and I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Great. Great just great!!!! Wow! Good job, Anna. You rock. UGH!!!!!!!! ksdahfqicwjketc Second time in a month that I've thrown up because of anxiety problems piling up on top of each other. I'm seriously going to lose it.
Sorry for the negative post. But I'm really having a hard time right now. Sometimes, the world just doesn't like me much and this is one of those times.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Rich Dance Moms in Convertible BMWs
((Okay, first off... I can't get the new url. So I guess it will be staying how it is for awhile until I can think of something else to change it to. Sorry.))
Now really, there are no types of people on this planet who are more self-righteous, rude, and downright nasty than middle-aged dance moms who drive convertible BMWs. You know the kind. The mothers of all the popular girls at school who wear makeup in the 5th grade, have 'boyfriends' in 6th, think they're better than you all through middle school, and let boys do some innapropriate stuff to them in the hallways in high school. Oh, and freak out when anyone isn't straight because God forbid!! The person could make a move on them! (As if they have any interest in those freaks.)
Anyway, my high school cross country team has regularly scheduled practices 4 times a week. We meet at the school, run, and then do push-ups, sit ups, and other things like that when we get back. We're near one of the main entrances, but we're always polite about it. You know, leaving a wide path in case someone needs to get through, staying on the very edges of the pavement, that sort of thing. Not bothering anyone.
Well, this week, there's some sort of national dance competition taking place and competitors have been practicing in the high school cafeteria, just beyond the doors where xc meets. Which isn't surprising, lots of things take place there. It's a big school. Most of the time the people are very courteous.
Unlike the dancers and their moms, who think that, just because they rented out the cafeteria for a week, they now own the school. Both of our coaches had to leave about 10 minutes early, so they left Elizabeth, the team captain, in charge. The second Elizabeth was left in charge, who would come out but a rude dance mom that probably drives a BMV convertible? (Or something like that. You know. Sporty and expensive?)
She walked through the perfectly wide path we'd left and stopped at Elizabeth and said in a not-very-nice tone, "Are you in charge?"
"Yes, I am now," Elizabeth said, "the coaches just left."
"Oh. Well. Can you get your girls to move off the pavement here? It's making the dancers feel awkward when they have to walk through you guys. People paid thousands of dollars to be here and it's not fair to them when they have to feel uncomfortable walking through you guys."
Elizabeth just blinked. "Oh. Uh, okay."
The dance mom didn't even thank her or anything, just went back inside. Therefore, we were effectively booted from our regular place at a regularly scheduled practice, like we didn't have as much right to it as the too-cool-for-you dancers, because their rich, too-cool-for-you parents had paid money to be there and they shouldn't have to deal with these people who attend the school invading their sacred practice.
Hello. We attend this public school. We pay taxes for this public school. There is a sports entry fee for this public school. I'm sorry you don't like us being here, but we were here first, and if anything have more right to this place than you rich snobs. And you know what? Maybe it's awkward for us to have to deal with your slutty 8 year old daughters walking around in 3-inch heels, crop tops, and more makeup than most 30-year-olds combined. And why should your kids feel uncomfortable? There's plenty of room for them, and anyway, they aren't the ones doing their push-ups and ab work out there. But we just moved, because we are decent people and don't want to make a fuss with people who think they're entitled. But when we found a new spot, even Elizabeth didn't mind that we were talking about the lady's nastiness behind her back and she's normally really sweet and kind.
We have practice tomorrow, which is the day of their dance competition. I hope it's at the same exact time as cross country. We need our revenge. Today there was talk of laying on the ground, not moving, completely in their way. I wonder if we'll do something if given the chance.
Now really, there are no types of people on this planet who are more self-righteous, rude, and downright nasty than middle-aged dance moms who drive convertible BMWs. You know the kind. The mothers of all the popular girls at school who wear makeup in the 5th grade, have 'boyfriends' in 6th, think they're better than you all through middle school, and let boys do some innapropriate stuff to them in the hallways in high school. Oh, and freak out when anyone isn't straight because God forbid!! The person could make a move on them! (As if they have any interest in those freaks.)
Anyway, my high school cross country team has regularly scheduled practices 4 times a week. We meet at the school, run, and then do push-ups, sit ups, and other things like that when we get back. We're near one of the main entrances, but we're always polite about it. You know, leaving a wide path in case someone needs to get through, staying on the very edges of the pavement, that sort of thing. Not bothering anyone.
Well, this week, there's some sort of national dance competition taking place and competitors have been practicing in the high school cafeteria, just beyond the doors where xc meets. Which isn't surprising, lots of things take place there. It's a big school. Most of the time the people are very courteous.
Unlike the dancers and their moms, who think that, just because they rented out the cafeteria for a week, they now own the school. Both of our coaches had to leave about 10 minutes early, so they left Elizabeth, the team captain, in charge. The second Elizabeth was left in charge, who would come out but a rude dance mom that probably drives a BMV convertible? (Or something like that. You know. Sporty and expensive?)
She walked through the perfectly wide path we'd left and stopped at Elizabeth and said in a not-very-nice tone, "Are you in charge?"
"Yes, I am now," Elizabeth said, "the coaches just left."
"Oh. Well. Can you get your girls to move off the pavement here? It's making the dancers feel awkward when they have to walk through you guys. People paid thousands of dollars to be here and it's not fair to them when they have to feel uncomfortable walking through you guys."
Elizabeth just blinked. "Oh. Uh, okay."
The dance mom didn't even thank her or anything, just went back inside. Therefore, we were effectively booted from our regular place at a regularly scheduled practice, like we didn't have as much right to it as the too-cool-for-you dancers, because their rich, too-cool-for-you parents had paid money to be there and they shouldn't have to deal with these people who attend the school invading their sacred practice.
Hello. We attend this public school. We pay taxes for this public school. There is a sports entry fee for this public school. I'm sorry you don't like us being here, but we were here first, and if anything have more right to this place than you rich snobs. And you know what? Maybe it's awkward for us to have to deal with your slutty 8 year old daughters walking around in 3-inch heels, crop tops, and more makeup than most 30-year-olds combined. And why should your kids feel uncomfortable? There's plenty of room for them, and anyway, they aren't the ones doing their push-ups and ab work out there. But we just moved, because we are decent people and don't want to make a fuss with people who think they're entitled. But when we found a new spot, even Elizabeth didn't mind that we were talking about the lady's nastiness behind her back and she's normally really sweet and kind.
We have practice tomorrow, which is the day of their dance competition. I hope it's at the same exact time as cross country. We need our revenge. Today there was talk of laying on the ground, not moving, completely in their way. I wonder if we'll do something if given the chance.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
ONE WEEK NOTICE
In one week, I am going to change my domain name (link) to: ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com
If I can't get this link I'll tell you in a week and come up with a different one.
If I can't get this link I'll tell you in a week and come up with a different one.
Shin Splints!!!
A few weeks ago, I posted about how excited I was that I was finally going to be able to do cross country this year.
How quickly excitement dwindles.
Oh, don't get me wrong; I'm still super excited to run. I love running and I have (had, I guess...) ambitions to be in the top 20 runners on my team. This would be a big accomplishment, since there are 110-120 runners on the team. I'm probably somewhere between 30 and 40 right now. I was doing really well though. Pushing myself, going a little faster every time.
Even though 2 weeks ago, after the second practice, my shins were starting to hurt.
At first, it was easy enough to ignore. I figured I was just sore and it wasn't a big deal, so I kept pushing myself. But they kept recurring, and by last week my shins also hurt during the half-mile warm up run, and for the first 5 minutes or so of th emain run. They were also worse afterwards, and hurt for longer and just felt weak.
...I have shin splints. Go me. They're not quite bad enough that I can't run, so far my coach's advice has been, "They're common, and yours aren't bad enough that you have to stop, so if you rest enough and ice them and take care of it, you should be able to run through them at just a little less than your normal intensity." Maybe I'm whining and should just get over it, but it's really upsetting me because I wanted top 20. And now I can't push myself as hard, so the top 20 are going to be set in stone and I won't be able to catch up. And it's a constant reminder, because even now after 12 hours of practice being over they still don't feel right. Sorry for being such a downer in this post, I really try not to be. I just can't imagine what people with worse shin splints go through.
How quickly excitement dwindles.
Oh, don't get me wrong; I'm still super excited to run. I love running and I have (had, I guess...) ambitions to be in the top 20 runners on my team. This would be a big accomplishment, since there are 110-120 runners on the team. I'm probably somewhere between 30 and 40 right now. I was doing really well though. Pushing myself, going a little faster every time.
Even though 2 weeks ago, after the second practice, my shins were starting to hurt.
At first, it was easy enough to ignore. I figured I was just sore and it wasn't a big deal, so I kept pushing myself. But they kept recurring, and by last week my shins also hurt during the half-mile warm up run, and for the first 5 minutes or so of th emain run. They were also worse afterwards, and hurt for longer and just felt weak.
...I have shin splints. Go me. They're not quite bad enough that I can't run, so far my coach's advice has been, "They're common, and yours aren't bad enough that you have to stop, so if you rest enough and ice them and take care of it, you should be able to run through them at just a little less than your normal intensity." Maybe I'm whining and should just get over it, but it's really upsetting me because I wanted top 20. And now I can't push myself as hard, so the top 20 are going to be set in stone and I won't be able to catch up. And it's a constant reminder, because even now after 12 hours of practice being over they still don't feel right. Sorry for being such a downer in this post, I really try not to be. I just can't imagine what people with worse shin splints go through.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
I attempted to draw!
Like, actually draw draw. With details and shading and stuff.
In my opinion, it's more evidence that I probably should be banned from ever again coming within ten feet of black colored pencils and paper. But I've gotten all compliments on it on ywp nanowrimo so far, so maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It is my first time, after all. I was pretty proud anyway until my mom just looked at it and said, "Yeah. That looks good, sweetie," in a monotone that suggested she wasn't at all impressed. I guess I just have to keep telling myself I can only get better from a first try.
Here it is:
What do you think? (Also, just so you know, the shading actually isn't as spectacular as it looks. It was just black coloured pencil, remember, so it's grainier than that on the picture.)
Anyway, this is really just a filler post. And it's late and I have to get ready for bed. Goodnight!
In my opinion, it's more evidence that I probably should be banned from ever again coming within ten feet of black colored pencils and paper. But I've gotten all compliments on it on ywp nanowrimo so far, so maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It is my first time, after all. I was pretty proud anyway until my mom just looked at it and said, "Yeah. That looks good, sweetie," in a monotone that suggested she wasn't at all impressed. I guess I just have to keep telling myself I can only get better from a first try.
Here it is:
What do you think? (Also, just so you know, the shading actually isn't as spectacular as it looks. It was just black coloured pencil, remember, so it's grainier than that on the picture.)
Anyway, this is really just a filler post. And it's late and I have to get ready for bed. Goodnight!
Friday, June 20, 2014
LGBTQIAP+ Pride month!!!!!!
I'm reaaaalllllyy bored today. No one is online and I've been meaning to post something like this since the beginning of June. Bad Anna. Stop procrastinating. I know. I don't sound very prideful, do I? Anyway... um... yeah. It's pride month! I've had it in my siggie on ywp nanowrimo, but I haven't been able to post pride flags, and yay, I finally have a do-nothing day today where I'm able to. Don't you love do-nothing days? Doesn't everyone?:) (Well, I had cross country this morning but it was a fairly easy practice)
Back on topic.
Demigirl:
(I love this one!! It's so pretty.)
Asexual:
Biromantic:
Aromantic:
I decided to post both aromantic and biromantic flags because I fall somewhere between the two, officially I identify as grey-biromantic. And since I'm a demigirl, my preferred pronouns are ce/cir in case you were wondering, but I won't be too mad if you forget and use she/her. I might give you a reminder to use ce/cir, but really anything but 'it' or 'he/him' will work if you aren't sure. ;) Please don't call me 'it'. I am, in fact, a human being. *mindblown*XD
If you want to know what any of the terms I used up there mean, just ask me in the comments and I'll gladly answer you. :)
But if you're going to say something negative towards me for being LGBT+ or the LGBT+ community in general, please either leave it out of your comment or don't comment at all. I don't mean to sound harsh, it's just that I read and hear a lot of that on a daily basis and it's really hurtful and I don't want to see it on my blog. Think of it this way: you didn't choose to be straight anymore than I chose to be queer; which is saying, it isn't a choice. It's who I am and can't just change it or repent or ask forgiveness from God (it isn't a sin) and I don't want to hear why you disagree with it. I don't think I have anyone reading or commenting that is against LGBT+, but this of course would be the post I pick up a new reader who will say something against it.
Wow. That came out lots more ranty than I intended. Sorry guys. :) Anyways, happy LGBT+ pride month!
Back on topic.
Demigirl:
(I love this one!! It's so pretty.)
Asexual:
Biromantic:
Aromantic:
I decided to post both aromantic and biromantic flags because I fall somewhere between the two, officially I identify as grey-biromantic. And since I'm a demigirl, my preferred pronouns are ce/cir in case you were wondering, but I won't be too mad if you forget and use she/her. I might give you a reminder to use ce/cir, but really anything but 'it' or 'he/him' will work if you aren't sure. ;) Please don't call me 'it'. I am, in fact, a human being. *mindblown*XD
If you want to know what any of the terms I used up there mean, just ask me in the comments and I'll gladly answer you. :)
But if you're going to say something negative towards me for being LGBT+ or the LGBT+ community in general, please either leave it out of your comment or don't comment at all. I don't mean to sound harsh, it's just that I read and hear a lot of that on a daily basis and it's really hurtful and I don't want to see it on my blog. Think of it this way: you didn't choose to be straight anymore than I chose to be queer; which is saying, it isn't a choice. It's who I am and can't just change it or repent or ask forgiveness from God (it isn't a sin) and I don't want to hear why you disagree with it. I don't think I have anyone reading or commenting that is against LGBT+, but this of course would be the post I pick up a new reader who will say something against it.
Wow. That came out lots more ranty than I intended. Sorry guys. :) Anyways, happy LGBT+ pride month!
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Cross Country started!
The first day was Monday, and the second was today. I have really mixed feelings about the whole thing. On one hand, I'm realy happy!!!! I've been bugging my mom to let me do it for years, since the summer before 7th grade and now I'm going into 10th. She always had pretty useless reasons, like that she didn't want to watch meets or drive me home from practice. Also, I really like running, there's no chance of me being whacked in the head by a ball, and it's bin my only sport since September, when I had to quit gymnastics because I hurt my ankle and four-five months later when it was finally better I knew I wouldn't be at the same level I had before. And I'd gone back levels so many times it just didn't seem worth it anymore. Also, my mom had kind of scared me away from it because she told me I was going to fall on my head one day and kill myself, and so I hadn't been doing well anyway even when I was there, especially since last May I actually did fall pretty hard dering a bunch of fast series of flips from 6 feet up onto my neck and shoulders and tore a bunch of muscles. (You do not know pain until you tear your back, shoulders, and neck, then have to walk around for 7 hours on a school field trip a week later.)
Anyway, I'm rambling. The bad part is that I'm just really tired. I get up at around 7:15 on xc days, which is fine because usually I'm up by 8 by myself. But then we run for 30-35 minutes (it'll increase to 75 by the end of the seeson, as of my current pace I bet I do about 4 miles in 30-35), and do 50 push ups and sit ups, and then go to the weight room and lift weights and do stairs and squat 45 pounds on our shoulders. All of this wouldn't be as bad if afterwards I could go home and do nothing for th rest of the day. But I've maybe had 20 minnuts to myself all day, and I was already exhausted this morning from doing a ton of stuff yesterday. I've barely had time to eat today before running off to something else. But hopefully, today will be the worst day....
(Also, I'm to tired and lazy to spellcheck this... so sorry. It's still readable.... I hope.)
Anyway, I'm rambling. The bad part is that I'm just really tired. I get up at around 7:15 on xc days, which is fine because usually I'm up by 8 by myself. But then we run for 30-35 minutes (it'll increase to 75 by the end of the seeson, as of my current pace I bet I do about 4 miles in 30-35), and do 50 push ups and sit ups, and then go to the weight room and lift weights and do stairs and squat 45 pounds on our shoulders. All of this wouldn't be as bad if afterwards I could go home and do nothing for th rest of the day. But I've maybe had 20 minnuts to myself all day, and I was already exhausted this morning from doing a ton of stuff yesterday. I've barely had time to eat today before running off to something else. But hopefully, today will be the worst day....
(Also, I'm to tired and lazy to spellcheck this... so sorry. It's still readable.... I hope.)
Friday, June 13, 2014
Hello....
I have got to be the worst blogger on the planet. Twenty days without a word from me?! Goodness. To be honest, it's been a pretty packed twenty days and so they all blend together and I only remember bits and pieces of it clearly. What I do know is that I had my final exams a little more than a week ago, and about two weeks I had a project in four out of my five classes. I'm just glad it's all over.
Excuses, excuses. Sorry.
I have, however, been posting on my new storyblog! In case you don't know what that is, and you probably don't, I'll leave a link here. If you're a blogger I'm going to assume you like writing, or at least don't utterly despise it the way most kids and teens and college students do. Though who knows? Maybe you don't fall into one of those categories. Maybe you hate writing anyway. Maybe you live in another dimension where writing doesn't actually exist, and you're having this post pumped forcefully into your illiterate brain, through the icy words of an unseen narrator, with just the detached voice reverberating inside your hardened skull.
...Have I mentioned that I've also been listening to too much Welcome to Night Vale? (Look it up if you don't know what it is. It's amazing.)
Anyway, yeah, I'll leave you the link. :) It's too a website that my friend made for what he's calling The Storyblog Project. He explains it way better than I could: http://thestoryblogproject.weebly.com/ Enjoy! I know I don't have some humongous load of readers- actually, I'm fairly certain that at this point I only have one- how ya doing, Rachel?- but hey, every bit helps, right? This is my storyblog. It's linked to my friend Liam's forums, as well:
...I was going to say something else. Ummmm.... http://letterstodana.weebly.com
Oh yeah! I'm going to change the url of my blog, since I changed my name and blah blah blah. It's going to be (hopefully, I'll tell you soon if I can't get it) http://ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com That isn't a real link yet, but once a few weeks have passed and people have seen it, I'll change my current url to that. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I came up with my current url, anyway... mckennasmindtrails? Seriously? What does that even mean?
The world may never know....
Well. Now that I've gotten out all important but probably boring news and updates (boo housekeeping, we all -I think- hate it but it has to be done), and bashed myself in the process, it's time for me to hit post -publish, sorry, but you knew what I meant- RIGHT NOW before you all get bored and stop reading this.
Bye!
I'm hitting it RIGHT NOW.
Excuses, excuses. Sorry.
I have, however, been posting on my new storyblog! In case you don't know what that is, and you probably don't, I'll leave a link here. If you're a blogger I'm going to assume you like writing, or at least don't utterly despise it the way most kids and teens and college students do. Though who knows? Maybe you don't fall into one of those categories. Maybe you hate writing anyway. Maybe you live in another dimension where writing doesn't actually exist, and you're having this post pumped forcefully into your illiterate brain, through the icy words of an unseen narrator, with just the detached voice reverberating inside your hardened skull.
...Have I mentioned that I've also been listening to too much Welcome to Night Vale? (Look it up if you don't know what it is. It's amazing.)
Anyway, yeah, I'll leave you the link. :) It's too a website that my friend made for what he's calling The Storyblog Project. He explains it way better than I could: http://thestoryblogproject.weebly.com/ Enjoy! I know I don't have some humongous load of readers- actually, I'm fairly certain that at this point I only have one- how ya doing, Rachel?- but hey, every bit helps, right? This is my storyblog. It's linked to my friend Liam's forums, as well:
...I was going to say something else. Ummmm.... http://letterstodana.weebly.com
Oh yeah! I'm going to change the url of my blog, since I changed my name and blah blah blah. It's going to be (hopefully, I'll tell you soon if I can't get it) http://ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com That isn't a real link yet, but once a few weeks have passed and people have seen it, I'll change my current url to that. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I came up with my current url, anyway... mckennasmindtrails? Seriously? What does that even mean?
The world may never know....
Well. Now that I've gotten out all important but probably boring news and updates (boo housekeeping, we all -I think- hate it but it has to be done), and bashed myself in the process, it's time for me to hit post -publish, sorry, but you knew what I meant- RIGHT NOW before you all get bored and stop reading this.
Bye!
I'm hitting it RIGHT NOW.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
"Slightly retarded"? Gee Mom, thanks.
Today for dinner my mom was putting together meat for burgers and she told me to make a salad with lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers that she had in the refrigerator.
And, well...
Zucchini.
Looks really, really similar to this cucumber.
Anyway, I cut up zucchini and then she was mad because I'd peeled it and even though she was going to cook it today anyway, I'd peeled it like a cucumber and we never peel zuchinni.
Ok, so I didn't know one long green vegetable over the other. No big deal! We cooked the zuchini anyway and made it work, and the salad was fine. I just peeled he cucumber too and cut it up.
Then when my mom was talking to my grandma on the phone she called me "slightly retarded" for mixing up the two and they both got a good laugh out of something that shouldn't have been embarrassing but now is. Thanks, mom.
And, well...
Zucchini.
Looks really, really similar to this cucumber.
Anyway, I cut up zucchini and then she was mad because I'd peeled it and even though she was going to cook it today anyway, I'd peeled it like a cucumber and we never peel zuchinni.
Ok, so I didn't know one long green vegetable over the other. No big deal! We cooked the zuchini anyway and made it work, and the salad was fine. I just peeled he cucumber too and cut it up.
Then when my mom was talking to my grandma on the phone she called me "slightly retarded" for mixing up the two and they both got a good laugh out of something that shouldn't have been embarrassing but now is. Thanks, mom.
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