Attackers and Killers

Writing. Ah... sit down in front of a sheet of clean paper, or a blank computer screen that is annoying me with it's dinosaur bone quality, take a deep breath, and begin furiously putting my words out of my head and into public viewing. halfway through I have a little breakdown and curl up on the big comfy chair and cry. Why do my people like to have tragic things happen when the world is so good for me? Uh, yeah. Apparently I forget who I write about. Creatures that are on the verge of having no soul. Obviously, they don't care.

Oh, and they don't just have tragic moments where a beloved dies and leaves me crying. NOO! They have to attack me as I am walking home, already freaked out. Why? Because it is dark and I am in the head of a wimp. They think attacking me at those moments is just a barrel of fun.

To make matters worse, they kill me, too. I am happily trying not to fall in love with my Innocent as Cleodentri as I stand in the dark near woods and then wham! I am attacked (this time it is a different attack) and get killed.

And people wonder why I have a growing hatred for night time when I am by myself.

Tonight, with the best of luck, I will curl myself up by the computer, with some tissues just in case, and pound furiously on the keyboard just to see how many times I can wound a certain pain that won't stop attacking me.

This is why I avoid the doctors that deal with mental health.

I rather like this odd system...

Smelling Spices and Sniffing Closets

Mmmm. Spices. Cinnamon. Oregano. Nutmeg. Cumin. Paprika. And Tarragon. (There are a whole bunch more, but like I am going to list them all.) I saw tarragon in the spice cabinet and hopped on it. (not literally. But that would have been amusing.) Then, tearing through the little containers, I found nutmeg. I wanted to compare the smells. Yeah, great idea. Nutmeg reminded me of pie. Then, tarragon reminded me of hippies. Because it flew up my nose, I spazzed, and my mother began laughing and crowing about how no one has ever been known to snort tarragon before. Being so mature, I let her know (sarcastically) nutmeg does not snort well, so tarragon had to do. Then I got yelled at by a cranky, woken up father. I mean, it's not my fault I write better at night.

Yes, the blame falls on my writing. Cleodentri's story involves tarragon. So, of course I was smelling it. How is that not obvious. Unfortunately, my nose has still not recovered from being attacked by demon leaves.

Somehow, I have been cursed into sniffing a lot more than just food. A skit for my youth group has someone sniffing in a closet. Well, the guy doing this has always reminded me of a dog. As I am supposed to be bored and slightly embarrassed, I am secretly suppressing a great case of the sillies. At one point last night, I ended up joking around and sniffing. As if I don't make a fool of myself already.

My sisters, with their oddness, pulled me into their room and had me sniff around looking for the cat. Do I look like a dog? I think not! (more like a mouse or a mole, I always thought.) So, I am crawling around sniffing, when the closet door flies open in front of my face and I must sniff. Every. Single. Piece of. Clothing.

They need an air freshener.

Now, I have an old abandoned building to creep around. And sniff. For my writing, of course. =]

The Tents of GAW! Mwahaha!

Okay, do not tell me the Tents of Gaw does not sound menacing or like it belongs in some fantasy novel. The Tents of GAW, a little celebration the neighboring town hosted, were very beneficial to me. There were tents (if you did not figure this out go find an emu, squawk at it, then stuff a whole apple pie in its mouth. have fun running! Ahem...) and a large quantity of them were super cool and had... wait for it... rocks!

Yes. Rocks. Aren't I a loser. Actually, I am a loser writer, thank you very much. I practically attacked those poor people in my search for Amethysts and something from Onyx. There was this really pretty onyx ring. And it looked very scary at the same time. My lovely friend (I am actually not being sarcastic) had to drag me away as I pouted, due to my status as a poor little girl who was at a five dollar loss. Finally, I found this little tent with rocks and rocks and rock jewelry and had a blast.

Some lovely person asked what amethyst means. It's the stone of royalty. I let out a little squeal of happiness and began jumping around. Jedediah told this story I made up about amethysts and it fit perfectly! Then I asked what onyx meant, as I have Cleodentri (who is fully aware she sounds like a cat with clean teeth and a pet tree) wear onyx so she doesn't eat people. It means strength and a bunch of other things that I could associate with my use of the rock. I was so happy!

I got a pair of onyx earrings and, being the dork I am, have not taken them out of my ears except to shower. They are nice and do not stab me. =].

My Dork moment:

Ohmydearmuffins! Look it's Egyptian. haha. I am totally not a dor - Oh! *pounces on thing* It's the secret symbol of Solomon! Hippos!

Sam: How many times are you going to completely contradict yourself?

me: I don't know. Amethyst! Look! A knife!

Sam: *Shakes head and laughs* You are so lucky I love you or I would call a big man with a net.

That was not at all random. What are you talking about?

Writing Goals and Wells

After babysitting Tuesday and writing while the two cuties played with crayons, I got home and sat in front of the computer, waiting to think of something. All I could think of was the weekend and the discussions I had with my friend concerning goals and writing. So, then came this stupid dialogue of sorts.

Me:Hmm... a goal sounds like a good thing to come up with. One that is much more solid than have something done by the start of school.

Mom: What are you doing with your face?

Me: Thinking. (continues on to myself) Yeah. I can have a revolutionary summer for me by having goals. Mwaha - who are you?

Thing: Goals! You seem to need me. You write. I can make do for a writer!

Me: (making a face. I much prefer talking to my characters than things other people can converse with too. Yup. I'm insane.) That's lovely. I can handle this myself.

Mom: Stop giving me dirty looks!

Me: I'm not giving YOU dirty looks! Go away! I mean... aha... I love you very much. Please go into the kitchen. Where I will be free of you.

Goals: She's gone! How about you finish that chapter you started by Friday and then begin working with Drell again? Isn't that a great idea!

Me: Hmm... I guess it is. I'll do it.


Hahaha! Yup. I got that done. It is now Friday and I have not touched a piece of paper or my computer unless it was reading a book or playing on the Internet. Yes, a wonderful idea. I am now at the point where I want to find a well, introduce Well to Goals and then push Goals down Well!

But, life isn't like that. I can't get rid of my disappointment and some emotion close to anger by pushing my insanity down a well. *Sigh*... if only.

Well! I am done wallowing in Writer's misery of my own making. I think I shall now find a new book to read and then make myself some Bluffins (blueberry muffins). Or maybe i shall go hunt down Goals and yell at the perky little thing.

Don't Kill People Who annoy you... Characters on the Other Hand...

Last night. All night. Fighting and bickering and disagreeing like nobody's business. I had a headache the size of China. Do you know how hard it is to review for a chem test while characters are having a fight? Incredibly hard!

Luna, for whatever reason, is a complete brat to me. I have no clue what I did, but she insists upon not telling me anything, being in love with stupid Obadiah (who she won't let me call "Bad"), and then bugging me to write her story.

Drell, an already angry, messed-up person, has recently made her presence very known to me and my whole family. Last night, while I was studiously contemplating how far I could chuck my review book and still be able to read it, she began pestering me too.

The sweetheart who hates dark people and the dark person who hates sweethearts decided to battle over which story I should write. Then, with all the nerve they have, after I told them I had review to do, they began arguing over whether I should be doing my chem or not. Luna is getting another scene with Obadiah for backing me with that one. I think Micah is going to die sooner if Drell doesn't knock it off.

My father, lovingly, yelled at me about how important sleep is for school work and that if he ever sees me up until midnight ag - what on earth was I doing shaking my head at him? It was my unbelief that it was already midnight and I had wasted three hours with two stupid characters. I have decided that, unlike siblings, these two can die if they don't stop pestering me.

I sound insane and like I am, in fact, schizophrenic. But according to my mother's good ol' doc, I'm not. Got to love being an actress. Yes, sometimes much more than writing because acting is not having the responsibility of a million stories (okay, only a few at the moment) begging my time.

A. (because I don't feel like a title)

Regents week. No... hell week. Supposedly a term for acting. the week before opening night when you run around reciting your lines like a chicken with mad cow disease. I always find that week very nice and easy to slip into. It's like a dream; the ones where my stories come to me and I am not me anymore. That makes me happy.

Then comes this week. Regents week. Sure, I can sleep later. But what does that matter to me? I want to be typing furiously on the computer in a way that makes my parents worry. NOT sitting there like a good little schoolgirl studying the end of wars and such. You know what I what i would like to study?

1) Pre-medieval warfare and the creatures from my world. Nope. Got to study the periodic table trends.

2) ancient Greek clothing choices or I'll just let my characters run free and wild. Bring that up and I have triangles shoved down my throat.

3) My world needs a map because otherwise I will be too confused. I have a map... of Latin America. I'm almost positive there is not a country called Galsha in Latin America

4) Hi Drella! I am thinking of names for... shoot. Stupid Philosophes. (yes, I talk to my characters.)

5) the Workings of a Wizard! I mean, uh, organic molecules or something of that sort.

next week I am locking myself in my room (after spending three days cleaning the disaster) and writing writing writing reading and writing!

Come week of July 1, come!

Realizations - ones that will hold lifelong lessons to only me

6-4-10 --- *yawn* wait... underwear is a good thing to have....

6-5-10 --- 1) food is actually what keeps one from puking on the rides... 2.) a moldy loaf of bread is the worst insult out there 3) how to amuse three teenage girls... have a lightning storm

6-6-10 --- 1) little children love it when you scream oddly and/or call them chicken nuggets 2) screaming obnoxiously at an amusement park and then while watching children will leave you sounding like a duck...

6-7-10 --- ...then by the next day you sound like a man duck who smokes something... but apparently you sound adorable

6-8-10 --- 1) the special friend in the song is me. Yup, I talk to trees, thank you Chris for announcing that to the class. 2) My dad is just a little too used to me 3) ah! we're the Sacred Twins! 3) my backyard is the Forest of Wizards... and where Luna "dies"

6-9-10 --- 1)wow, Tony is graduating 2)I make awesome fudge 3)walking in the rain ruins shoes... and a good mood 4) People don't want to hear how excited you are that your friend is your twin in an alternate reality

6-10-10 --- 1) pants are a good thing to keep clean 2) Spanish should go find a hole to die in 3) creating your own language while taking a final is never a good idea... especially when it's for Spanish 4) essays are essays... not stories. 5) stupid Obadiah is being very protective and i want to off Zipporah's daughter. 6) Luna is getting much more than I ever planned