When Bookstores Lost Their Souls

Once Upon a Time, possibly in a land far far away for some of you, there lived a girl. Or maybe not a girl. She was at that odd age of 18 where nothing makes any sense and everyone is a conglomerate of everything. Especially her. So this person inhabiting Earth... She loved to read. It was the one thing she never truly tired of. Reading was the only thing she could be addicted to. Her money was squandered on books. She invested much too much time into it, ignoring family, friends, and a dedicated (and soon well-trained) boyfriend-person. Once she possessed a license (issued to her, of course), she would drive herself over to a bookstore after a particularly hard week/day/hour and be able to breathe for a change. Never did she tire of wandering through aisle upon aisle of books.

Then one day, the impossible happened.

Down an aisle she went, her eyes merely skipping from title to title. What used to be a journey of an hour was over in minutes. On to the next aisle she went, each shelf brimming with unread, possible untouched paper and beautiful covers. Again, her feet found their way out of the shelves much too quickly. Frustrated, she hurried over to the other end of the store. Perhaps there lay titles and books and stories to calm the growing sense of dread in her stomach.

Her unease grew and grew as she traversed aisle after aisle, section after section, until she stood in center of the store, feeling like a belly button. Useless and unloved. Once she had had a purpose, but no more. Maybe she was more of an appendix than a belly button. Defeated and feeling hopelessly dejected, the person inhabiting Earth fled the building to hide from the emptiness in her car.

How, how had this happened? Where did all the books of interest go? She didn't want vampires. She didn't want sex and passion. She didn't want to merely dip her toes into a story. She wanted to be immersed in one; up to her head in the words and characters and worlds until nothing could take her away from the space between the letters. Why did that space disappear?

But it had. She felt it. As she roamed the aisle, she could feel the lack of soul in the books surrounding her.

The fantasy had dwindled in size. Those, the heart and soul of so many magic seekers, had kept her alive during middle school. She needed them now as everyone told her grown-ups don't believe in fairy tales. But those were gone. As were the books about friendship. Stories she could grasp in her fingers and watch bloom like morning glories. Even Tolkien's section was small. A collection of his trilogy. No Children of Hurin, no Silmarillion. Just space mourning it's true purpose. Lewis was completely absent from the shelves.

There was nothing left for her in bookstores anymore. Nothing to capture her desires and whisk her away from this reality of hers.

This person inhabiting Earth felt as if someone had reached a clawed hand into her chest and ripped her heart out. What would life be without this sacred place of hers?

She wanted to give up. To curl up in a ball and cry over pages of Narnia, wishing even more vehemently than before, for some of that wonderful tree to have been used in the making of her closet. To stare desolately at the night sky and beg any entity who would listen to change this tragedy.

But she didn't lose hope. Surely, there were other girls like her out there. Boys, too. Both young and young at heart. She couldn't be the only one in this world with a desire for more than the potato chips being offered by authors. Someone else had to be wondering what happened to creating five-course meals with depth and richness.

So she drove home, her chin raised in defiance and her eyes set. Once home she knelt before her bookshelf, tugged a notebook from where it was nestled, and opened it. The blank pages became her hope. Between the lines of faded blue a story could be written, one about friendship and loyalty and the questions everyone must face at some point. Or maybe even one just for laughs, with real people who don't just fall in love but are pure human.

And so, she began to pour her soul onto paper hoping one day to bring bookstores back their souls.

I am a Delinquent

Adventure Time with Autumn, Jesse, and Samuel! OR My Run-In with the Cops

The three of us decided that we didn't want to go home right away after eating out on Tuesday. So I suggested we go to a park I used to play tennis at and loved. We drove over, parked the car, I threw the keys at The Boy (I had no pockets), then we wandered over to the playground.

That was great fun. Outside of when I managed to slam my elbow on a metal bar. WE did a tire swing, slid down some pretty fun slides, climbed up a dragon. There were these things with cut-out faces, so I was a knight and the guys were princesses. At one point I thought Samuel was at the bottom of the playground, then saw boots above my head and freaked out. He moves scarily fast at times, I learned.

Then we went over to the wooden set and just sat and talked. Samuel and I have a story together, so we discussed that. Then we talked about weird (bad) impulses we have (Swerving into things with the car, stabbing things, kissing people) but don't give in to.

We were talking about church (ironically enough), when a car drove into the parking lot. J said it looked like a cop car. S went "it better not be." I thought "why would a cop be here? There are strip clubs elsewhere in the city." Then a light appeared, moving across the playground until it landed on us.

Not knowing what to do - it's not like we have police hunting us down on a regular basis - and because we had nothing to hide, we just sat there waiting to see what happened. Two cops happened, with huge flashlights flashing all over us and the area surrounding us.

Cop 1: So, what are you kids doing here?

Me: Just hanging out. I used to take tennis here and wanted to come back. Weird time, I know, but I miss this place.

Cop 1: You guys in school or anything? *begins completely searching every spare bit of mulch under where we are sitting, so he says this kinda off-handedly.*

Cop 2: *shines the light in each of our faces trying to blind us*

J: *shakes head*

M: Yeah. RCC.

S: Yup

Cop 1: Where are you guys from?

Cop 2: *stands there glaring at us like we just stole the coveted donut*

S: Five minutes up the street.

J: New Jersey

M: __(my town)_____

Cop 1: Do you have i.d. on you?

M: In my car.

S and J: Same

Cop 2: *points at S* You come with me.

S goes with Cop 2, probably trying really hard not to begin screaming as they walk away.

Cop 1: You are aware that I can arrest you, right?

J: *shakes his head* (ALSO: having a mini-heart attack. I was honestly surprised he didn't just begin gurgling the last few breaths of his life)

M: Nope.

Cop 1: Were you guys smoking anything tonight?

M: (trying hard not to laugh) Nope

Cop 1: Have you ever smoked anything before?

J: No, sir.

M: (IN MY HEAD: We are the most straight-edge people ever! J freaks out if he goes a mile above the speed limit!!) (some laughter snuck in) No.

Cop 1: Have you ever gotten in trouble before?

J: Well, I, um, got some speeding tickets.

M: *trying not to be completely sarcastic* Noooo.

Cop 1: Well, I'm going to have to see your id.

M: It's in my car. (like I already told you, you freaking numb-skull.)

As the three of us walk to my car, we pass Cop 2 and S. S has his arms straight out at his side. I seriously considered finding a way to protest the pat down. But I figured I better not convince this cop I was actually doing drugs. 

We get to the car, J takes out my keys and unlocks the car. We get our driving stuff, hand it to the guy.
 He comments on the fact I just got my license before telling us to take a seat and wait for him. So we chill in the car. I laugh as J fidgets like he really is on drugs. I am on the verge of hitting my head against the steering wheel when the guy comes back.

Cop 1: I need your addresses.

Despite the fact that he has them in his hand, we give them to him.

Cop: What's you social security number?

M: *opens mouth to say it. Can't remember. Makes a face like he asked me to take my shirt off*

Cop 1: That's fine then. I'll need your height and weight.

I don't know this either. So I made up some numbers.

Then he asks J and J tells him.

We wait some more.

S joins us.

S: Thankfully I remembered that I had the pocket knife in my pocket. How was your guy?

M: Well, we apparently can get arrested.

S: Yeah, I heard. Which would be ridiculous!

We go on like that until the cops come back and hand us our id's. There's  some strange green sheet wrapped around it. Oh beaver dam's made out of fudge.

Cop 1: You guys don't seem too suspicious (Oh really. We are three non-scary - or I am anyway. Unfortunately - straight-edge kids who get excited about church and have long conversations about God and stuff like that. Two of us are the biggest freaking nerds out there. One is wearing a classic video game shirt. We don't seem suspicious at all!), so we aren't taking you away in handcuffs down to the station. But we could. Instead you'll have to show up for court.

M: *glancing at the time and date* I have school. I can't miss my classes.

Cop 1: If you miss court there will be a warrant out for your arrest. You can try to reschedule, but I suggest talking to your teachers (Cause that won't be awkward at all). Don't do this again. *walks away*

I look down at the paper further. Out charges?

"Parks after Dark".

We have to go to court for something that sounds like Dr. Suess pretended to be a cop. And if we can't pay $100-$500, we get 15 days of jail. That will be fun to explain to anyone looking at our records.



What is my life?

Having to be an Adult. And Failing.

I have decided I hate the age of 18. I will probably hate 19 and 20 for the same reasons.

All summed up: I'm a teenager and an adult at the same time. "Have fun, live your life, be reckless and stupid while you can!" on one hand. On the other... "You're an adult now. Be mature. Know what you are doing with your life. Stop making mistakes. And ohmygoodness, stop acting like a child."

I kinda want to go around kicking all the people who expect me to suddenly Have It All Together. Sure, it's months into being 18, but I'm still just as confused as before. More actually. Pre-"Adult" Me knew what she was doing. "I'm going to try to transfer to Fordham for psychology and theatre after two years at community college." Right there, pretty simple.

Now: "Erm... I think I'll minor in theatre? Maybe? Um... Listen. Okay. I'm just hoping to NOT fail my road test again. We'll see about the rest of my life once I know how to NOT hit the curb, okay? Okay. Now, leave me alone." Then I make some disgruntled face and stomp away. Obviously, I am very Adult.

My lack of Adult-ness becomes the most apparent to me at work.

Scenario 1: The kids are playing with Legos
        Whenever anyone else goes to the table: "Guys, no shooting the guns. ____ don't grab. etc etc."
         When I go to the Table: *digs through the container looking for Indiana Jones. Enslaves the Little Children to build a Temple and Create an Army. Noises resembling Mass Destruction.* *Pulls out Darth Vador* "Luke, I am your father!" *lightsaber sounds*

Scenario 2: Playground Time
         Everyone Else: *Stands by and watches. Scolds "wild" kids*
         Me:  "I'll race you to the slide!" *forms an obstacle course*

Scenario 3: Difficult Child
         Everyone Else: "_____, stop it! Don't hit/punch/kick/make raspberries/yell/whatevertheheckyouaredoingatthemoment
         Me: (in head) I will NOT lick him. I will NOT sit on him. I will NOT engage in similar activities like the bratty older sibling I am. And I will NOT threaten to  lock him in a cabinet.
        Admittedly, not the best reaction to begin with, but I have five younger siblings and have thus come up with various ways to respond to an Evil Younger Child. I just used the basement instead of a cabinet. Which worked very well. My sister never hit me again after that.

Something I would just LOVE to do some days

Then comes school. College. Big People (I feel Extremely Young whenever I walk into a room).

Most people can sit there and sit still and have good posture. Unless I am falling asleep, I am bouncing around in my seat or kicking my feet or rearranging myself on the seat challenging the known ways a human body sit on that tiny of an amount of space. If I were a preschooler, I would be in a class for kids with behavioral issues.

And you know what? I like it this way. I have fun at my job because of it. I am entertained easily and thus rarely bored (except when I am stuck at the library and WILL NOT be satisfied until I lie on the floor and begin chanting). I don't need to spend money to have tons of fun. Sure, I have no idea where my life is going. I can't sit down with anyone and say "Okay. Advise me." because what is there to advise without laying my whole life out for me? And God only knows how I would rebel against that. And that's fine. It's awesome actually.

Maybe I'll go off and be a Lost Girl in Never Never Land. I'll fight pirates with Peter Pan (and teach him some manners in the process), join the Indian pow-wows, and maybe, just maybe, get a little bratty fairy/pixie of my own.

 


 

I am morbid. Enough so to make my mother first laugh, then worry about me. A lot. Usually poking me with her toe at some point too. As, for whatever reason, I tend to be morbid while sitting on the floor.

This is why I am morbid:

"Keep your chin up!"
"Why? So that if anyone is trying to kill me my neck is more vulnerable to their lovely knives?"

"What are you up to, dear?"
"Dying. So are you. Wait... We died a little bit more. Oh, closer to death now! Closer, closer!!"

She says I used to be extremely optimistic. Like a little rainbow unicorn on happy pills. Ironic, since I wrote a poem about how unicorns are secretly these epic warriors who will slice your brains apart if you mess with them. When I was a wee lass I would skip around singing about how happy everything was - outside of bathtime. Then I wasn't any sort of happy at all until I had escaped the clutches of the Evil Mom who wanted me to Bathe. - and I would go around encouraging the butts off people. I's go up to random strangers and say "hello" and tell them what a good day it was.

"I'm not sure what happened to you, you weirdo," said The Mother of Niceness. I mean, I'm morbid, but I'm not that bad. I guess she just thinks it would be normal for an eighteen year old go skipping around trailing sparkles. Wait. No. I didn't say that. That would mean I would have to be a Meyer Vampire.

Oh, vampires. A four-year old the other day decided I was a Vampire. It was pretty adorable. Especially when he rolled up his sleeves, gave me this incredibly devilish grin, declared himself a werewolf and let me know he can bring it. And I did. Full-scale Vampire worthy tickle-attack. Then another person came in and he went running behind her squealing "Vampire! Vampire! Check the teeth!"

So, yup. I'm Little Miss Morbid Vampire over here.

Life

I have been trying to write. But lately the only time I can get anything out is during class. That leaves me maybe ten minutes three days a week. Not very productive. I could write more, but seeing as how I am paying to go to college (Okay, my aunt is paying, but money is being paid that could be used elsewhere), paying attention in class is a Smart Idea. Thankfully, English 101 is teaching stuff that I know better than the back of my hand. So while everyone is learning about hyperboles and what exactly a semi-colon is, I am trying not to cry because, once again, Dave is telling me stuff at the Worst Possible Time Possible. 

(Random: Why are there so many ads on YouTube. Guys, I just want to watch a video. Pizza Hut can go shove a pie up its butt.)

Speaking of shoving stuff up where the sun don't shine, this guy in a local gang was pulled over by the cops for speeding. They checked the car for drugs, found nothing. Turns out the driver had a traffic warrant  - whatever that is - so he was brought down to the station. One hundred bags of heroin were found up his butt-hole. 1 - What made the police look up there? 2 - Did he need help doing that? 3 - Don't do drugs. You never know where exactly they come from. Like up a butt. Or, apparently, other... places.

Anyway, that wasn't the point of this. Not that I had a point. I am not a pencil after all. (But I am not a circle, so maybe I do have a point?)

If you are not laughing, go, just go home.

 I walk around without shoes. All the time. So, this just touches a certain part of my heart. Like when a boy at my church overheard someone saying I was barefoot, tugged on her shirt and let her know "Autumn never wears shoes to church. The first time I saw her shoes was last week. That was only because of the snow on the ground."

Puns are great, by the way. This guy I know loves them and made me Pun Battle him one night. Now, I failed at it, but I was laughing so hard, it was worth it. Especially when he began using Star Wars pick up lines on me. I very nearly asked him to marry me. Except not, cause that would be weird. And illegal. Since he's a minor and I'm, well, not. (Do you know how strange that is?? I'm not a minor anymore. *runs and hides*)

One of my characters likes puns. The problem with him is, I actually have to write his stuff. It doesn't just come to me. So I sit there going... um... Puns. Puns puns puns puns punsssssssss. What to doooo? And then abandon writing. Complete laziness on my part.



Back to what I started way at the beginning (before puns and um... the cat)... I can't write much right now. Buuuuuttttt... I found a semi-solution!! Semi because it isn't a solution, but it does still count as working on writing. I will research France in the 1500's. Look up German drinking songs. Find a way to travel to the desert/Antarctica. Figure out a working Timeline. Focus on History class, and thus the Spakes. And, finally, really get to know the characters. Their quirks and speech patterns, what they wear, the music they listen to, quotes they like. Stuff like that. Which should be fun and reallly realllyyyy helpful.

Things I have learned so far:

1. Lukesh is an author. So, not only is this guy super attractive and adorkable, but he writes. *swoons* Too bad he is the father of dear Cleo.

2. Dave's mom does random stuff like sprinkle spices in his hair to let him know he needs a haircut.

3. Jedidiah LOVES Star Wars. So some goth chick called him Jedi.

4. Ray can't stand the smell of horses. Elaine constantly makes him ride just because of that.

And...

5. Sage told her grandmother that she was going to grow up to be a prostitute. (Don't worry. She grew up to destroy the world in stead. In the name of love of course!)

WEll, bye!

Follow Up Blog

Last post I ranted about Boyfriends. I had my knickers in a twist over last year's valentine's day Fail. Silly me. (I would just like to say the hormone Cranky was coursing through my system that week.) Or, maybe not so silly me. Here is why.

A week before Valentine's day (the day after my post, heh heh), I announce that my FSM will be my Valentine and we will window shop to show our love for each other. And get rid of currently unused gift cards that need some usage. The Boy gets upset. He wanted to ask me for the day. Two days later *cue big heave of the shoulders* I give in. Smart decision actually as....

February 14th. I get out of work and walk to the familiar beat up car. He emerges, hugs abound (hey, hugs are lovely things.), and then he opens the passenger door and I gasp.

Arranged around my seat are these:

Gummy worms. Possibly one of my all time favorite snack/treat things. Well, anything gummy really. Gummy worms, gummy bears, fruit snacks. All wonderful.

In their package. Not running free all over the car.

 Lindt Dark Chocolate. A whole bag of the chocolatey goodness. I loooooovvvveeee this stuff.
 

 A pan of brownies. That he made. With chocolate chips. Not just in the brownies but on top and all melty wonderful cause they were fresh and hot and *groan of yummy satisfaction*. With this thing we made up one day out of boredom - a combination of our initials. Really cheesy and stupid/silly, but it was cute.

AW and JF. And yes, we spent time doing this. Not sure how I got involved, but I did.

York Patties in heart shapes in a heart-shaped package. Now, nothing special, except that we used to get York patties whenever we hung out. We'd sneak off and eat that minty goodness and annoy the heck out of people. And that is why they thought we were going out before we actually were. Because of those darn York patties.


A dozen red roses. "For my Rosie" said the little tag/note thing. (Yeah. Rosie. Nickname. The sole nickname I have ever had. Only used by my cousin and him. Weird combination)
 

A card that was hilarious for the sole reason that there was a curse-word and he never and I mean never curses. But that's mine to keep. So that's all you guys will know.
And. Last, but certainly not least. The reason why he told me I HAVE to give him my whole day and possibly Friday morning.
Two tickets were sticking out of the glove compartment for....!!!!
 

Oh. Freaking. Yes.

Aaron Gillispie wasn't at the one we went to =(

BUT Fiction Family was (Sean Watkins reminded me of Sam Gamgee for some reason. I really wanted to ask him if he is secretly a Hobbit. But he was kinda onstage singing while I was, well, NOT.). I love Fiction Family. Love love love. Very unsurprising as Jon Foreman is involved and anything musical he touches is pretty awesome. Not that the band is just him. I'm just saying.

The other bands were great too.

The Lone Bellows were amazing. I bought their CD and got to meet them. The one guy was really sweet and had this adorable Southern accent. When onstage his playing was so intense and his voice was perrrrtttyyy. All their voices were perrrtttyyy though. And the other guy, the Main one, informed me that he had a high school girlfriend with the same name as me. I just nodded and laughed cause um - how does one respond to that??

Now, Now was great too. Warning, though, their voices are sooo much pretty in concert than on the CD.

Anis Mojgani. The Spoken Word dude. I wanted to marry his voice. Ex-cell-ent stuff.

The venue was amazing too. Really small - I was ten feet (tops) from the stage. They had a place to hang coats, which blew me away. And... it was in BOSTON!!!! I got to go out of state to a City and die over the architecture. I will wind up cheating on NYC with Boston. They had these really cool curvy buildings that made me want to go to Boston University just for those.

And. In all that awesomeness, I got nothing for the Boy. I am lame.

Then, I realized. I gave him the gift of reading. The next day I accidentally left a library book in his car. He was waiting for me for an hour (I gots distracted on my way out of class) and picked up the book. I have now created a reading FIEND. He even ignored me to read. A Pride and Prejudice retelling, which made it even better. So now, whenever he sees me he asks for a book. Doesn't matter the genre, he just wants a book.

Being able to share a love of reading definitely counts as a Valentine's Day present. And an every other day present, too.

P.S.

What Boyfriends SHOULD be Good For (But, unfortunately, aren't)

Valentine's Day is around the corner (Okay, not really. I think the librarian I crushed on when I was 13 is around the corner, but that is beside the point). That means LOVE.

 

If I were a cat, that would be me exactly. But, I'm not a cat. I'm a human. So I don't look absolutely adorable while making that face. And because I am a girl and have a Person I am supposed to look like this:

Hahahaha. No. Never. Not once did I look like that because valentine's day was approaching.

Last year I kinda almost got excited - until my plan got ruined.

The Plan: First year with a Boy Person. Whatever. To be totally anti-valentine's day as per usual, I wanted to break up the day before Valentine's Day and get back together the day after, and thus be single on the day of love. And my FSM (friend soul mate) could totally be my valentine. Or my Mango could be, as that's just how things go down. But No. The Boy had to get all upset at the very idea of breaking up - even for on day.

Plan ruined.

So, obviously he had something planned, right? Nope. He texted me the day before to let me know that he can't hang out (yeah. That was the big maybe plan), there's a concert in the city. He took his brother.

So. In honor of him and that memory....  Even though it took a while to get here....

Things Boyfriends SHOULD be Good for but AREN'T

1.) Making you like Valentine's Day
     If you forgot why I'm saying this, go take a walk with ducks and steal some of their memory. You need it. But, really, for someone who HATES valentine's day, having a boyfriend should at least make it bearable. But, that's what best friends are for. She will call you up and serenade you with your favorite songs and recite poetry to you while your boyfriend is taking his brother to a concert.

2.)Taking you to IHOP when there are free pancakes and you will whack off an old woman and steal her keys just to get those free pancakes
    Oh, yeah, Happy National Pancake Day! On National Pancake Day, there should be a law: Boys, take your girls out. The food is freeeee. But, alas, alack, how few boyfriends actually do this. (okay, maybe most do. I'm assuming right now that everyone has really bad boyfriends. For you who have awesome amazing boyfriends, enjoy your pancakes!)

3.) Romantic Walks in the Snow
   As in, when it is snowing out and if you like snow, he says "Let's go for a walk (preferably in the woods)" and it's all pretty and awesome and like a movie. Instead, you say, "let's go for a walk" and he says "It's cold out" or "I'm hungry" or, even better, "I'm late to meet up with (insert name of the male friend you refer to as his Boyfriend)".

4.) Flowers
    Ha haha hahaha. Yeah. Right. No matter how many times eyebrows are waggled, flowers are never in his hand.

5.) To Read the Guy Perspectives You Write
    Really. I was really excited when we began going out - I finally had a guy to critique Dave's stuff. That was what I needed, he's my Person, it should work, right? Uh, no. So warning girls, guys are stupid and like video games better. Unless you have Mr. Freaking Perfect. In that case, lend him to me, please? Just for a week. For Dave's sake.

6.) Helping you figure out what to wear
    So cliche, but most chicks do try to make guys do this, so I'm putting it up there

7.) Taking you to the Ren Faire
    My boy actually did this, by the way. But most guys roll their eyes at this. So, look for a guy who will go and put up with you squealing over the leather notebooks and ink pens.

8.) Talking Books
    You read a great book, you wanna share it with someone, right? If there is a great love story and you actually like the love triangle, good luck getting your boyfriend to share your delight.

9.) Taking you to see Les Mes
   This may be over a month since the movie came out, but oh well. That's what boyfriend's should do. Instead they complain and make faces and don't understand why you want to listen to people singing for hours. VERY disappointing.

And last but not least in a ridiculous rant against boyfriends that I decided to subject my blog to...

10.) For Understanding Those Days When All You Want To do is Eat and Eat and EAT
    I mean, really, he's a BOYfriend. Boy. As in "I love to stuff my face whenever possible". You'd think they understand those days when food is amazing amazing amazing. Nope.

What his face looks like when I am SUPER hungry (not really, but close)

But, then there are times when school was really stressful and he appears with a bag of chocolate or the milkshake you were craving and ready to kill for and it's all okay.