It's Over

Finally. Blog Every Day April is done. I actually didn't mind it at all. It wasn't hard for me considering I blog this much anyway. It's only this past week that's been hard for me because Christine's been here. I've missed like 2 days. But this April has like 34 posts. So I think all in all BEDA is a success for me.

Last night I went out to see the movie Fighting with Christine, Gaby, and her friend Justin. We then went to Chapters, played with all the amazing, wonky weird toys, and tried to find one of the eight copies of a book I wanted [Perks of Being a Wallflower] that turned out to be a computer error. They only had the audio book on sale for 7.99 not the hardback copy. Ho-hum.

Then we went to East Side Marios. Christine and I split the Cheese Cappeletti [sp], Justin asked for cheese sticks with a side of coat hangers because he said Gaby locked his keys in his car, and Gaby retorted with a "Justin locked his keys in the car" while munching on this waffle monstrosity. All the while this fantastic jive type music played in the background. A few of us burst into dance on more than one occasion. Yes, it was me more than once.

The conversation consisted of me and Justin arguing about whether Adaptation was one of the best movies of Nicholas Cage's career or complete hogwash. That particular strain of chatter ended, of course with an outburst of, "you're an idiot!" from me after learning that Justin never even finished Adaption. I mean, really? He never got to the duplicity scenes between Cage's two characters. He never got to-- Oh, never mind. We then argued about movies in general, Jim Carrey, Dumb and Dumber, Next. Next? You finished Next but you wouldn't watch Adaptation? I was enthralled from the opening monologue of that movie. I just don't understand how someone can't be. I just don't understand it. Opinion has nothing to do with it. I literally can't comprehend....

Anyways we ate, we argued, we made our death threats [or I did anyway], we decided our future careers by bestowing our options on various pieces of cutlery and hiding them out of sight[fork for teacher, knife for police officer] and then we left. Justin ran to his car and Gaby Christine and I hopped into Furlong and rode back across the parking lot. Justin began his own car jacking by taking my keys, insisting that his vehicle is such a mound of crap that my German metal just might open it anyway. It didn't. And after about half an hour of coat hangering and several night shots with my gorgeous photographer's dream of a camera, Justin called CAA.

That was when I couldn't hold it in any longer. It was bathroom time. The theatre doors were locked. So Christine and I slothed across the parking lot to Chapters and thanked the Starbucks girl profusely for allowing us to use their bathroom even though they were "technically" but politely closed. When we were about to leave, the girl gave us free sandwiches that were previously marked $4.95 or something equally as insane. Which was really, really nice of her.

We also saw this this ratty raccoon run accross the parking lot. Twice. I tried to take a picture of the moon several times. Christine and I were fairly sure Justin told the CAA guy that Gaby locked his keys in the car, but we can't prove it. And then we all drove home.

I want BEDA to end now.

I do. Because I am failing at blogging. But I am blaming this on Christine. Who is now reading over my shoulder. No wait. She is rocking on her knees and dozing off into space paying attention to something else. I can't be dedicated to blogging while she is here. But this okay. You get cop out blogs till she leaves.

HA!

I'm going to work now, which contrary to popular belief, is not Christine's fault. Oh! I am also almost at 7,000 subscribers. * goes to check* I'm at 6769. :]

TA!

I'm about to eat my third popsicle of the day.

Wish me luck.

[+ I am also craving spaghetti.]

A Meating of the Minds as it were [PUN!]

Food and Why It Is Awesome

Thesis Statement colon

Instead of needing food to like comma live comma food is more of an explosion of yum than any other experience known to man period

Supporting Evidence colon

1 Chocolate colon

This food group actually does nothing beneficial for functions of the human system period However comma she slash he continues to indulge in said eating of this groupage due to the aforementioned Yum Factor* period bracket 2 YUMS bracket

2 Cotton Candy colon

This food group continues in the vein of having nothing to offer in the region of health for the human system period It is simply pink and blue and wispy and sometimes it is green period It errodes the teeth and gums and it has been linked to possibly cancer comma suicide comma and life of chronic carney unhappiness period As you can see the cotton candy group is particularly harmful to the human system and particularly addictive period It is also so very comma very tasty period bracket 3 YUMS bracket

3 The Letter C colon

As you have probably noticed the third letter of the alphabet seems to have some sort of something against the human race period It wants to attack us with sugary unhealthy erroding wispy yum and there is little we can do to combat it period The Anti hyphen Yum Committee has taken it upon themselves to talk to the powers at be in the government to see what they can do about extracating the letter at question out of the alphabet period The government is comma unfortunately comma unavailable for comment at this time period period period

* Yum Factor colon

Health analysts use this term to describe something's worth in Y U M* units

* Y U M units colon

A unit of yum

You

Not everything has to be a competition. Not everything has to be a competition. Not everything has to be a competition.

- A mark of someone else's talent is not a measure of your lack thereof.
- When you start shaking it's probably time to stop what you're doing and eat something.
- "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." - Eleanor Roosevelt
- Just because you didn't finish in one giant leap doesn't make the process less significant.
- Don't judge yourself according to others.
- Know your process, know yourself.
- Physical exertion should not be underrated.
- You are not someone else's idea or ideal.

In a moment everything can change.

This is an unavoidable fact of life. One I've come to terms with already, thankfully. This means changes don't hit me as hard as they used to. It turns out my summer will be radically different than I was planning. Now I don't even know what is going to happen. And that's so disheartening because the summer was the one thing I was hanging my hat on. But I'm not letting myself get discouraged. I'm just going to keep working hard, finishing my school, saving my money and trying to keep my options open. There's still several gatherings going on. And Australia is still there. Even though it's winter. :/ I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do. :[ Halp.

It is only April though. So it doesn't really matter yet. What matters is that I keep earning money and finishing my courses [she tells herself for the billionth time to no avail]. Anyway, moving on.

Tonight I work from 5:00 until midnight. I don't want to because we've changed the store's policies and that means explaining to every single person at the till why I've "personally wronged them". And that's a nightmare. On a lighter note, the pressure for selling a load of stuff a work is now off because the contest my store was in is over. We haven't found out if we've placed or anything but we'll see soon. I hope win Blu-Ray players. Or Ipods. Woooo!

One of my very best friends Christine comes from Montreal tomorrow! I'm so excited. I have to remember to ask Dad how to get to the train station to pick her up. I've been there by myself only once or twice and I'm pretty sure I can get there again but not positive. It's going to be wonderful seeing her for the whole week, especially now that my money situation isn't as skint as I thought it was. But we're both pretty poor minded. So it works out well. We compliment each other. :] We'll watch Madagascar 2, gorge on chocolate and fruit, sleep till late afternoon, and generally do sweet nothing and then some. But she has to work on her business plan while she's down here and I have to do some school work too, so we both have to try to get up at decent hours. I love her. The end.

Well, I'd better be off. I have to shower and make myself decent for public viewing now, so I can go and get Gaby at 3:00 to take back some items to Liquidation World for $12.00 that I want for gas tomorrow. Oh yes. I've thoroughly planned this out.

Bye blogworld! I do sort of love you more than I should.

x

Thorsday! + Lettors!

Did I tell you that I only have 2 courses to complete for my high school diploma? Well I do. This immediacy makes me ache for summer even more. I want you, Warped Tour 09. I want you, California. I want you, NY. I want you, beaches, mountains, roads, and skylines. I want you, sustainable finances. Aaaaaaauuuuh. Pleeease, courses, pass by fast.

Now it is time for letters to inanimate objects et cetera by meee!

Dear Claudia Gray,

You have given me back my faith in vampire/teen fiction, and for that I thank you. Your use of tricksy plot devices and un-patronizing dialogue makes me love you. Please hurry to write Hourglass so I can devour it far too quickly.

Dear Eloquence Daws,

Get out of my head.

Dear Families Course,

I hate you. You're boring and stupid. You're teaching me absolutely nothing, and I want you be over so I never have to look at your people and their early 90s outfits again.

Dear Literature Course,

I haven't started you yet, but I have a feeling you're going to be quite taxing. I have to read three books for you, and just between you and me I've already read one of them one and a half times. So that sort of puts me ahead. In short, you scare me. But I want to read something meatier than Vampire fiction [pun!] and I thought choosing you would force me to do just that. Still, I'm scared that you will be a hard course to complete in the time restraints. Please don't be too difficult. And don't make me realize that I fail at literature in general and thus authordom.

Dear Shawna,

Relax. In. Out. Repeat. Every other month you think you're quitting YouTube. You're not. Get used to the fact that this is how you operate. Embrace your sporadic self, stop feeling guilty, and wait it out. If your video desire doesn't come back, you won't actually die. You'll be fine. Stop caring so much about what other people say.

Good job with your savings, by the way. You've barely spent any money unless it was on something that you really needed or something that was a super good deal. This summer is going to be tight, but you've got your best friend Visa, and Mom and Dad said that they would pay for it and you could pay them back after the summer. You don't need to stress over finances. You're too young for that.

I know you feel pretty lost right now with everything, but it's going to be all right. Just focus on getting these two courses finished. Don't worry about college/uni this fall. Just think about summer. Sweet sweet summer.

Dear Bed,

I'll miss you a lot while I'm gone. I think about it. A lot.

Dear Headaches,

I wish you'd go away once in a while. Just for a few hours of the day. I really hope these new drugs work. It'd be nice not to have to deal with you this summer. But I'm not going to let you stop me from having a good summer. Die. :]

Dear Subscribers/Followers/Commentors,

Sorry for the lack of videos. Sorry for boring content. Just sorry in general.

Blaaaah

I am exhausted. But it is still April so I must blog out of pure necessity.

Has anyone else noticed how ridiculous the CSI shows are getting nowadays? They're getting so crazy and out there. There's no way those crimes would ever happen, or that they would ever find those pieces of evidence. Like the map of the subway system on the sole of the person's shoe. Are you kidding me? No. It bugs me. So I don't watch them.

I had a good time in Columbus. The game was a lot of fun. I was pretty exhausted the entire time, but I had fun. There's not that much to say about the trip. We went down on the Monday, spent the night at my uncle and aunt's house, went shopping the next day [I got 6 cds for >$40 on a 50% off sale at Borders], then we went to the hockey game, stayed that night, and left for home that morning.

I am now clean, starving, and exhausted all over again. Oh yeah, and my hair and clothes and body in general are all driving me CRAZY!

Good-bye, Blogworld!

I'm going away. Only for a day though! From Monday to Wednesday I am gone, but this is posted on Monday [obviously] and I am getting home on Wednesday so I can tell you all about my trip then.

I'm going down to watch the Columbus/Detroit [game #4 in their first playoff round] in Ohio with my sister, her friend, my dad, and my gran. We're staying at my uncle and aunt's place. It should be nice. I'm hoping to have fun. I tend to, well, not.

I have a load to do tomorrow, including to remember to take my dailybooth so I only miss one while I'm away. :[ I don't want to miss one! I'm going to see if my cousins have a webcam. Goodnight, sadness. Goodnight, world.

x

This is the story of a girl...

Who breaks her own heart time and time again, by falling for the wrong boys, and rightly forbidding herself to act on her feelings. She is quite hurt. She is quite alone. And she is very, very unsure of many things, besides the fact that she is not meant to be with those boys.

Tonight, however, things are quite raw. Wounds have again been re-opened. It seems to happen every time the girl ventures into society. She now recalls why she hides behind her computer screen till all hours of the morning instead of having 'real friends'. You can't fall in love with your computer screen, you see.

Perhaps the girl will lose whatever hope of this facetious love she once held. Perhaps not. Only time will tell if she will lose feeling altogether.

3.

Down to the dumps and down without pause,
Down to death's depths with Eloquence Daws,
Where graveyards aren't far off the mark.
She mused, "the moon's bright when death's out at night,"
And I rasped slow - respite, "the moon's naught but light,
So let's not put our thoughts to the dark."

~*~*~*

If you haven't noticed by now, I am taking one particular subject matter and using it in a different format every day, in this case I'm using the self-devised character of Eloquence Daws. Day one was a testimonial. Day two was a news article. Day three, a poem.

The poem is a conversation between Eloquence who is dead and a living character. They commune at night in the graveyard where Eloquence was buried. Despite the fact that Eloquence is dead, the living character doesn't fear their visits or Eloquence at all, and the two develop a strange, connected relationship. Oh, stories.

Doing these different things has been fun. Like a scrapbook for a character. It's a really good exercise for development purposes. I'd recommend it. And it's just plain fun. I have no idea what I'm going to do with Eloquence yet. But I have a sad feeling that she'll remain murdered.

Teenage Girl's Remains Discovered

by: DIANA RONSON
New York Times, April 17, 2009.

BEVERLY HILLS -- The nearly unrecognizably body of local teen Eloquence Daws was discovered in the rocky underpass beneath Jamieson Bridge on Wednesday April 8th, by her schoolmate Michael Donohue.

It is yet unclear what happened to Daws, but authorities are counting it as only a possible homicide.

Controversially, there have been several unconfirmed reports of multiple stab wounds and burns marks on the body, particularly concentrated on the torso and head regions, which in part could claim some responsibility for the late release of the victim's identity. Several Channel 3 reporters first on the scene claim to have seen the victim and remnants of what appeared to be course twine, that they continued to infer was possibly used to bind Daws at some point in time.

The Beverly Hills Police Department is keeping tight lipped on the details of the scene, despite claims that Channel 3 head, Tom Elliot, is fighting for permission to release the aforementioned pictures of the crime scene, on the basis of his first amendment right.

"The department implores the public not to take the spreading of crime scene evidence lightly," Police Chief Shaunessy says in response. "The very idea that pictures of this case could be leaked anywhere, let alone online, could compromise the entire investigation and litigation processes later on."

As of now, the supposed pictures have not been released, though Tom Elliot continues to fight for their right to print. But Police Chief Shaunessy says he has more important things to attend to than dealing with certain irate news channel heads.

"We're not yet comfortable discussing the Eloquence Daws case with anybody," Shaunessy says. "We're doing our best to respect the family and the deceased by processing the evidence and those involved as thoroughly as we can before we make any hasty public claims."

When asked if this meant they had already nailed down a possible list of suspects, Shaunessy answered, "Right now we have a list of witnesses. A very short list."

A very short list indeed. The only apparent witness to the aftermath of the supposed murder is Michael Donohue, a classmate of the deceased, from one of the most prestigious preparatory schools in Beverly Hills. He is, of course, unavailable for comment at this time.

Pure Eloquence

Her name was Eloquence Daws. And she had eyes like an F22 fighter jet. Small and unassuming, but only at first glance. You'd be standing there enjoying whatever you were doing, not a care in world, and then they'd rocket in and blow you completely out of the water. Turn the universe on its axis. Loud and messy. That was the wake of Eloquence Daws for you. Or Elle, Elly, Edy, E-lo, E-Daw Darling, or whatever other aliases people seemed to shout her way.

She always sort of half smiled in return when they called those names. She never sent the fighter jets though. In fact, no one even seemed to merit any friendly fire at all. She was just serene, you know? Those nicknames served the purpose of the pretentious people saying them, not her. And it was clear to me that she had long since known that those titles had nothing to do with her. She simply assumed those roles. Slipped into them, like another one of her airy white smocks. She was like a ghost almost. Transparent in the way that it didn't matter what she did or said, she was already something else to these people. Perhaps that's why she wore the little black boots with everything, even dresses. They were something to keep her from floating away from herself entirely.

Now, Eloquence had these crazy tan freckles on her face, and she never bothered to hide any of them. Of course, why would she? They were gorgeous. Once in a rare fit of a emotion, I saw Eloquence and her mom really hashing it out outside the school. Mrs. Daws wanted her daughter to show some pride in her appearance and cake that animal tested crap onto her face or something. "Freckles don't go with blonde," she said. I just didn't get that. To me her almost waist long twists of sandy blonde hair, freckles, and rebellious eyes made her the most unique, beautiful person I'd ever seen. Beautiful wasn't the right word for her though. She was just Eloquence. And the best thing? Her eyes again. I've never seen a color like that. Ever. They were dewey caramel. And they had little speckles too, if you can believe it.

I'd catch a glimpse of her face in school from time to time and her eyes would just burn into me. They were always so hollow. I used to think about that all the time. In fact, I obsessed over it. I don't use the term "depressed" lightly. But I've seen enough to know exactly what that glint looks like when someone's just praying for the clock to run out. And her eyes had it you know? Maybe that's why they bombed me so hard. I don't know.

Since I first saw her a few months ago she just got thinner and thinner. You know, depending on what she was wearing or whatever. But I never did see her eat. That doesn't mean anything though. I mean in Beverly everyone's on a diet, everyone gets Thai for lunch, everyone "cleansing this month," whatever. But sometimes I was convinced she was running on a mix of a kind of battered hope and bitter tenacity. And maybe a little coke too. It wouldn't have surprised me.

That girl was small. And I mean really small. Not unhealthy small, not quite, but like a fragile porcelaine doll type small. It was as though her bones were all perfectly proportioned by a higher power, but he hadn't gotten around to the whole "appropriate percentage of body fat" thing, but you knew that when he finished her up, she was going to knock you out. She really had this brittle beauty that made her hard to look at. When she'd turn to you in a crowd, in that loose little white thing she wore, long twisted hair hanging lank over her shoulders, bangs in her eyes, her caramel pupils glassy and begging, and simultaneously terrifying you with her fragility, I mean it just hurt. That wasn't even the half of it with her. That was just one look.

As for the drugs, I don't know anything for sure. It could have gone either way. Eloquence was razor-sharp. But when you don't care anymore, smarts more or less go out the window. But I always saw this clarity in her that made me positive she was clean. That was my thing though. Others would have said she was messing in all kinds of stuff. I always say there's a twinkle in the eye of a clean person someone drugged up can't have. It's funny how it always comes back to the eyes, isn't it?

I'm glad I got to tell someone about this. About Eloquence. No one gets it. But I can't sleep at night anymore - I haven't slept these past 8 days. Not since Wednesday. I just can't get my head around it. Any of it. The cement, the grass, the blood, burns, cuts, and how her eyes weren't glassy and caramel but just two shocks of dead black. Or how her hair was tied and twisted around her neck and everywhere like it had turned against her and was trying to get out. I've never felt so sick in my life. Not like I have this past week. And I get now that I'll never understand any of this. Her eyes, just so, they way they were before, glassy and begging, will just be burned in my brain forever. Except this time I'll know for sure she needed help. And now it's just too late.

I can't see her sprawled there any more. I just can't.

Top 3 Things a Girl Should Know or Have:

[And why I do not have these things.]

3. An idea of her wedding.

Never did it occur to me growing up that it was normal for a girl to fantasize about the planning of her wedding day. All I wanted to do was beat the boys in all the organized sports. Which I did. And to be honest, that's still more in the forefront of my mind than the whole wedding issue. I still don't know what I want. Every time I see a pretty wedding on t.v. I think, "That's nice. I wouldn't mind that for my wedding." And every time I go to a wedding I think, "Wow, that was depressing. Shoot me if my wedding turns out like that, okay?" Sheesh y'all. I just don't know. PS how completely irrelevant is this topic? I just think it's funny that I seem to be the only girl on the freaking planet that neither knows nor seems to care what her wedding is going to be like just yet. Right now I'm more concerned about whether or not there's even a possibility of there ever being one like... ever. Bigger fish to fry, you know what I'm saying? Preferably male, eligible fish.

2. Boys.

I don't even know how to start this one so let's just go for it. I'm not exactly Lady Casanova [And by that I mean I don't have much experience with guys, not that I didn't marry a skeeze. And now I'm confusing myself. Moving on.]. In fact, I've never had a good romantic experience, count it, ever. I've watched my friends make mistake after periodically calculated mistake. And I have had to pick up the pieces so much that I can barely stand fully straight, for all the bending and piece picking that I have had to do. But here I am, the bright beacon of shining romantic hope, glistening before you for the whole blogging world to oogle. Or oggle. Whichever you or dictionary.com prefers. I'm bitter. The world is immature. People are stupid. I can't stand it when people don't act rationally and act like idiots. I can't stand it when my friends sell themselves short. I never have and I never will. I don't care if that means I'm the lone cat lady on Spinster Way for the rest of my life. I'll have my books. Ugh. You people make me so angry I could poke your eyes out with my knitting needles. But seriously, it is crucial for girls to really understand boys. I understand boys. But I don't have one. So... that's where the reasoning for this point comes in. Next!


1. A sense of self.

Now I'm not absolutely terrible in this area. After all, I have started my own self-based following on YouTube, I write like a bi-polar English-major, and I have started other short-lived projects over time. But the thing is, I don't feel that I've really recognized a strength in myself that I feel fully confident in. I'm still terrified that everything I do is just me pretending to do something instead of really doing it. That may not make much sense, but if you think about it, it does. If you act long enough in a role, you become that role. If you pretend to be the art student long enough, you become the art student. Were you the art student from your very beginning? No. But you became one. Were you destined to be the art student? Who knows? That depends if you believe in fate or destiny. Are you the art student now? See, this is the tricky one. You have to ask yourself these questions: are you a fake because you were never legitimate in the first place or are you the real thing because your deceitful practise lead you into experience? I don't know. I don't know if I'm the art student. That's what I'm saying. Are you confused? Yeah. Me too. Try mulling that over for several months and get back to me. ADIEU!

Done with the Evernight Business.

So I finished reading Evernight. I read most of it today in one sitting primarily. The book was fantastic after the initial rough beginning [see last post]. The dialogue got even better, originality sprung off the pages, and there was - and here's the kicker for vampire-love-story fans - A PLOT! And a drastically churning one at that. It threw me for a loop a few times and it kept me engaged, not in the petty dilemmas of high strung characters, though those were prevalent as they should be, but in the action of a story progressing.

Also, the story didn't have a patronizing or kitschy ending. Neither was it abrupt or painfully drawn out like others of its genre. It just had an ending. And now here I am, excited for the next in the four book series, not because I have to see what happens to the characters and their drama, but because the plotline actually engaged me. Take that Stephenie Meyer. The only "engaging" book for me of the Twilight series was the first. After that I was simply under its spell. Though every one of the books has its charms of course, and I don't deny the power and prowess certain aspects of it posess. Don't attack me. Rawr.

For me, the highlight of this book had to be how the author Claudia Gray handled the key love relationship between Lucas and Bianca. She managed to take totally indulgent subject matter and handle it in a completely... unindulgent, impersonal way. What I mean is, the whole time I wasn't thinking, "She's so writing this just to get her freakish fantasies down on paper with the perfect chiseled guy." Because she wasn't. Only a few times did I feel embarrassment for her when I was reading, and that's saying a lot considering it's vamp fiction. But I get embarrassed for authors easily. Because I am one. And a touchy one at that. But I'm straying off course here.

Now, I don't want you to get me wrong here, the characters were completely infatuated with one another and that definitely wasn't shied away from in the text. But it wasn't totally vomitous and phony to sit through. It felt real. Because the reader wasn't having to deal with their obnoxious affections for one another as foreground information, it was actually really nice. The plot balanced them perfectly. I loved how they were portrayed. Albeit, they're both insane and not real, but that's what you get in vamp teen fiction.

Apparently the second book of the Evernight series [or whatever this series is called] came out in early 2009. Or so Google tells me. And Google knows everything, after all. They're always right. They give me money and everything! I have to trust Google, see. [Sssh! They're LISTENING!] I was happy to hear the news that there was another book. Happy is an understatement actually. I was practically scrambling to the keyboard as soon as I finished the last page. "There... must.. be... a ... next.... book..." *PANTHEAVECOUGH* Long story short, Google is always right, there is a next book, it's called StarGazer, it's at my library, I'm picking it up after work at 5:00, and if you beat me there I will beat you.


Night night, blog world!
x

Evernight Review

I'm trying this approach where I read a lot in a short period of time in order to better myself as a person and author, and generally distract myself from the inside of my own head. I'm on my second book, Evernight. This is me ranting on the first 113 pages, which ironically enough I liked.

When I started, I wasn't immediately enthralled. I mean, it's your token teen fiction novel. It was over-indulgent, cliche, and I wanted to change some of the vocab choices because they caused me physical pain. But it was all right. Not Tolstoy, but all right. I have to start somewhere, and my attention span is short lately.

So I'm reading along, and enjoying myself mostly. With these books I find it difficult to let myself give in fully to the enjoyment because I hate to let the cliche things get me. "Oh the devilishly charming boy has a chiseled jaw and is grinning at the girl? It makes me glow inside!" Yeah... right. Anyways, of course it makes me glow inside. But just a little. I put a damper on the glowing. It has to earn my glowing with its originality and wit, darnit.

But mostly what was hindering my enjoyment was... how it's constructed plot-wise. I just don't believe in tip-toeing around things and being lazy as an author. It kills the reading experience. Geez people. It's a gothic boarding school where all the kids are sleek, gorgeous, brilliant, and predatory. Any idiot with half a brain would have figured out they're vampires before they even started the book. I did. One word: prologue. But still, here I am 113 pages in and the protagonist is still mulling about "what's going on at the school?" and "why is Lucas doubting this and that?". It's because there's vampires everywhere! And he's either a werewolf or another type of vampire or a vampire hunter or something else weird and everyone knows but you, you stupid, naive dolt. You're studying Dracula in your English class for goodness sakes! Ugh! I hate patronizing fiction. I hate hate hate hate it! Learn how to edit people. Become friends with the following terms:

- Originality
- Climax
- Story Arc
- Thesaurus

The dialogue hasn't been too bad so far. Most times in teen fiction it makes me cringe, but I've actually laughed out loud in this book. It's understated, which is how it should be in teen fiction. Lucas and Bianca make me laugh. I still smile every time I think of the 'he's Cary freakin' Grant' exchange. And Lucas's take on irony in one of the passages was inspired.

I'm absolutely fed up with construction workers being used as props for violence in books. As soon as there was a group of drunk construction workers in one of the scenes I knew the following things would occur:

- A fight for Bianca's honor obviously.
- Lucas protecting Bianca in an Edward Cullenesque fashion.
- Lucas's mad skillz winning.

Come on! It doesn't fit in the plot at all. It has nothing to do with anything, besides showing that Lucas has mad skills. I hate lazy plot devices. I also hate immaturity, weakness, and stupidity in my protagonist but since I'm only 113 pages in, I'll have to let you know more about that later. And don't worry, I haven't and won't ruin the book for you.

[This review may seem harsh, but I guess that's what separates a best seller from just another book on the library teen fiction spinner, right?]

10 Things I Hate About You:

- You're a complete, self absorbed jerk 95% of the time.
- You continuously rub the other well-played 5% in everyone's face making you 100% jerk.
- You're vain.
- You're hilarious, but you know it.
- You're smarter than the average person, but you do nothing with said intelligence.
- You're good-looking, but insecure. But unsure if you're insecure or good-looking.
- You know your faults but hide from them regardless.
- You have no discipline whatsoever, and pretend that this is because you're "living life on the edge" even though you know you're just lazy and scared to fail.
- You're not trustworthy, because you somehow only follow through on half of your decisions.
- You systematically repel change and need to grow up.

Stomach Shrinker

Right now:

- I am racing to complete this blog before the stroke of midnight so I don't miss a BEDA.
- I am probably about 10 pages away from being finished a book in one sitting.
- I am exhausted after sleeping 14 hours last night.
- I have started a new drug for my headaches that causes weight loss [maybe] and makes me feel full all the freaking time and I hate it.

Today I ate:

- 10 tiny chocolate eggs/discs/bunnies.
- 1 cereal bowl full of stuffing.
- 1 large Tim Hortans hot chocolate.
- 1 Tim's fruit explosion muffin.

And I am stuffed. Like, I-want-to-puke stuffed. I hate this.

x

50[0] Ways to be More Interesting:

- Chew with your mouth closed.
- Don't say every thought that runs through your head.
- Be neat on your person.
- Be messy in your room.
- Drink water.
- Paint your nails.
- Read obscure fiction.
- Read trashy teen fiction [but not too trashy].
- Be pop-culturally profound.
- Have favourites.
- Dance.
- Eat seconds.
- Laugh.
- Have a signature scent.
- Play an instrument [not even well - just play].
- Be passionate.
- Listen to bands that don't play on the radio.
- Develop a unique fashion sense.
- Ride the subway.
- Wear tights/nylons/leggings+boots.
- Be frugal.
- Travel.
- Dye your hair.
- Quote things.
- Don't be a know-it-all.
- Wear baggy university sweaters.
- Go to concerts/art shows/theatre productions.
- Hang out at Chapters.
- Wear scarves.
- Dress weather appropriate.
- Put yourself in situations where you can use the words 'loft' 'airport' and 'jetlag'.
- Frequent New York/L.A./London/Montreal.
- Let your talents make you cash.
- Stand up for yourself.
- Try different foods.
- Go rock-climbing/cliff jumping/water rafting.
- Own more than one bathing suit.
- Get your motorcycle license.
- Go to shooting ranges.
- Pump your own gas.
- GET OFF THE INTERNET!

FRAKKITY FRAK FRAK!

I had a busy day today and missed blogging. I'm not counting it as missing a day though. Let's face it. I've done like 2-3 of these a day anyways. I'm not going to be legalistic.

This morning I got up after only a few hours of sleep and went to the Good Friday service with my family. It was fine. A little long, but fine. My sister wasted no time in reminding me exactly why I hate doing things with my family by tearing down my internet life with a petty insult.

Then I went to work at 5:00 till midnight. I finally got home at 1:30 a.m. after going to Gaby's to help dye her hair. Now here I am. The John Wilkos Show is playing in the background. Some lady's sob case. Get over yourself. Get help. Get off national television. Seriously.

Tomorrow my Uncle, Gran, and Great Aunt come over for dinner. My Gramma and Poppa are already here. I'm super excited to have everyone here. I'm really, really looking forward to this. It's going to be such a relaxing time. I'll let you know how it goes.

Before I go, I wanted to say hi to some people. I never know where to reply to people so I might as well do it here. Here's two.

hfm,

Hi! I really appreciate you commenting on my blog all the time and I find yours really interesting. I value your opinion and hope you keep giving it.

Red/Strawberry,

Thanks for reading! It means a lot to me when other writer's read and enjoy my stuff. It always catches me off-guard when people actually want to hear from me. But thank you. :]


All right well I guess I'd better go talk to those orange and blinking. Night night blog world.

x

Pooped!

My muse has run out on me. I want to write, but don't feel passionate about any idea I come up with. I wanted to do more Rush sections, but they're frustrating me. I don't know which ones to do. I'm so lost with it. I feel so strange. Aaaaaah! It's all maddening. I want to call Christine. It's 11:30. Which is pretty late. Screw it, I'm doing it anyways.

PLEASECOMEBACKTOMEINTELLIGENCE/MUSE!

x

April* 9th Marks:

- 98 days until Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince hits theatres.
- 9th day of BEDA.
- My possible defeat by a worthy adversary, the DQ banana cream pie Blizzard.
- 1000 wishes to be more creative [this month alone].
- Discussions of literature, memory, and poems with Poppa.
- Mid-day napping/borderline pointless exhaustion.
- Learning to knit with Gramma.
- Eating my body weight in the best roast beef known to man.
- Completion of lesson one in a new course based on the study of family.

Prose to follow later. If I find some hidden muse somewhere. :[

Q + A

lanna-lovely said...
What are your top 5 favourite books?(sorry, I'm just a total book whore and I'm always looking for recommendations <3)

I like anything by C.S. Lewis. Particularly 'Till We Have Faces'. It was one of the most intricate, affecting novels I ever read. It was difficult, but worth it. He gets inside the protagonist's mind so completely, it's hard to believe a man wrote it. I also love the Alex Rider series [guilty pleasure], the Harry Potter series of course, Looking for Alaska, Lord of the Flies and many many others. I went through a homeless teen phase where I read all these depressing novels about homeless kids. I loved those.

Smorgy said...
what are your current favorite bands?

It's bad, but I don't have too many favorite bands. I like the same ones I've liked forever. Get Cape Wear Cape Fly, Anberlin, Owl City, A Rocket to the Moon, Relient K, Kate Nash. Those are a few of the people that have stuck with me. There's tons more of course. I always forget who I love, or I feel guilty because I'm not sure if they are a favorite band if I only love a few of their songs [even if I listen to those few all the time].

Tim said...
What's your morning ritual? :D

I roll out of bed and plonk myself in front of the computer. I check my hotmail, youtube, twitter, blog, and dailybooth. Usually in that order. Then I either eat, procrastinate online, or start my school work for the day. If I have to go out, then I make myself suitable for society. But only if I have to go out.

LittleRadge said...
rofl :P Which is more awesome and why: an amphibious tiger, or a panda with chainsaws for front legs?

An amphibious tiger. Chainsaw pandas would destroy the forests. And it's suddenly cool to pretend to be an environmentalist. So I'll go with the tiger. He'd look cool swimming with his stripes too.

Booder said...
if you could have a guest role on any TV show past or present, what would it be and who would your character be/what would your part in the episode be?

Ah hard question! Wait. No it's not. Um. Dark Angel of course. I would be... one of the x5's or one of the x6's. I don't know if I look old enough to be an x5. I would help Max as we tried to evade White/Lydecker in some perilous mission filled with all those futuristic fisticuffs I love and rip off so much in my Rush story.

marionhoney said...
Is Marion REALLY your favorite? Or is that all a facade?

Nice use of facade. You are numba wan. STOP WORRYING. Insecurity isn't attractive, remember?

hfm said...
Where dyou get your inspiration to write from?And is that different to where the ideas come for your videos?Or are they all linked intricately together?

I'm not sure where inspiration comes from. It's just how I think. My stories, videos plots, and in head moving pictures distract me from everything I hate. I'm constantly immersed in the imaginary. I construct conversations between characters in my head all the time. As for videos, a lot of my inspiration comes from my friends and peers on YouTube. I see what they do and admire them so much. They inspire my best work. For writing, everything inspires me. It's far too powerful and complicated to explain. But I love it.

K. B. L. said...
"hfm" just asked the question I had in mind. But for a more non-serious question then; What is your favourite food?

I love food too much to choose a favorite. I am in love with chocolate, strawberries, potatoes, steak, beef, pizza, pasta, broccoli with cheese sauce, east side mario's cheese capalletti [sp?] and my mom's stuffing. I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm starving. I eat when I'm full. I think it's becoming a problem.

Andeepanda said...
Why am i always quoting "I just found a lindor chocolate in my car, which is AWESOME!"?

I don't know. For the same reason that every annoying phrase gets stuck in your head? Or maybe because you actually are finding Lindor chocolates in your car. And that is awesome.

seahorse said...
religious views? favorite food? band? movie? jello flavour? weather? and where do you most want to visit? :)

I am a Christian, which means I actively pursue a relationship with Jesus Christ and try to live my life for Him as best as I can. My favorite movies right now are: Adaptation, Hard Candy, House of Flying Daggers, Wimbledon, Charlie Bartlett, Keith, and something else I'm forgetting. I like red jello cut in small, wobbly squares. But pudding beats all jellos. I like sunny weather the best, but an appropriately placed summer storm can't be denied either. I most want to visit Australia, New Zealand, Greece, England, California, Thailand, and several other places. I love travelling. Right now if I could go anywhere... I would go... on the trans-America roadtrip I'm planning for this summer. But I'd go now!

BLueMEatloaf said...
What has been your favorite dress so far???

I like them all. My opinion changes with every emotional/self-esteem based meltdown I have. I'm also incredibly paranoid and anal. If I think something has 'stretched out' or doesn't fit right, it ruins my opinion of it forever.

aslanenlisted said...
what are some of the creepiest comments you have received... what made them stand out?

After I made my 99 luft balloons video, I got tons of comments from these people who had balloon fetishes. Everyone wantd to know "what I did with the balloons after the video?" Most of them wanted me to pop the balloons on camera. When I went to their channels they had all these creepy videos favorited of girls popping giant balloons. I didn't know balloons even were a creepy fetish, but I think that's why that video got so many views! creepos..

This was fun. Thanks guys!! :]

'Midnight Grief'

This is one of my favorite sections of the entire Rush series. I've never written it out before. But I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. It does exactly what I set out for it to do. And that's really rare.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rain slashed every inch of the forest, carried by the pure fury of the unforgiving wind. Water was everywhere. Pools of mud gathered in every crevice, only to be dispersed again in the raging flurry of movement. Branches shook the very ground as they flew from side to side. Ferocious howling echoed in the wood. And slowly, drenched with mud and sweat, Casey ploughed forward through the moonlit storm.

There were deep gouges coupled with hairline cuts on every inch of her exposed skin, more still searing their way across her increasingly fragile flesh. Still, her head was downturned to the ground, carefully planning each step forward. It was all she could do.

The storm was the worst the area had seen in years. Roads had been blocked off. Businesses shut down. People condemned to their homes. But there were no such protections for a recent escapee of Aslane Institue for the Mentally Ill. Or at least that's what type of 'institute' people thought it was. But Casey had seen first hand. They were wrong.

A particularly vicious tide of water streamed from the sky, and blew in every direction, knocking Casey to her knees. She felt the dirt seep into her wounds and sting bitterly as she crawled through the pools to higher ground. There were a few rocks ahead with a small crevice at the base between them. Perhaps she could wedge herself inside and hide from the storm's screams.

She scraped her way between the two rough stones, and sat, a shoulder plastered to each grainy wall. Her shoulders began to mimick her knees. The stinging migrated through her body, until every laceration cried out with particular, angry pain. It took a few moments for her to register the growing pool of water in which she was seated. It lapped at her like a hungry dog, soaking whatever fabric it came in contact with from the bottom up. She was drenched. She was cold. She was cut. And she didn't care.

He was dead. He was really dead. And she wasn't. A new stinging began and Casey dropped her head to her knees, barely registering her own movement or the howling wind beyond the boulders. All that existed was the resounding emptiness that haunted her soul. The wind, pain, and frigid wet were mere shadows in the midnight of grief. They could not be seen. They did not exist.

Darkness had eclipsed her very will to live only hours earlier when she had flung herself off Vankleek Dam. One hundred feet she fell. One hundred feet to longed nothingness. One hundred feet to peace. One hundred feet to the most pain she had ever experienced in her entire life. The raging waters had caught her, slapping her into unconciousness and tossing her body amongst their waves for several miles. She had awoken at dusk, crumpled in pain with a mouth full of rocks and sand, on the only shallow shore of the river. For minutes on end, she lay there eyes clenched, awaiting the beckoning of the helicopter blades, telling her that her one attempt at freedom had been a failure. But it didn't come. So, grudgingly, she pulled herself to her feet, ignored the stabbing in her ribs, and headed into the forest.

There had been no epiphanous moment for her when she felt inside her gut the sudden pull forward. She simply acted on the only recognizable impulse she posessed. She had to make it back to the city. She had to tell Clancy what had happened. And to do that she had to go through the forest. It was that simple. At least until the rain began.

Huddled in a small ball, Casey waited for the rain to cease. At least enough so I can walk again, she thought, as she shook absently. She couldn't stay here. She needed to be moving. She needed to see Clancy. She needed....

Casey pushed herself to her feet and flung her body back into the storm. She felt the mixture of mud, rain, and blood whip at her eyes and she flung it away with a slash of her hand. She would not stop again. She would not let her mind fall into unconcious grief. She would get justice for him. Or she would die in a pool of her own blood, as she should have in the field that day.

It took several more hours for her to breach the base of the mountains. She hadn't realized it, but the rain and wind had formed a small combined drizzle that trickled over her feet and down the mountain, tugging her along with it. Finally, just as the sun peaked small light behind her, she saw a hint of life ahead. A road. Paved. For cars. That would take her to Chicago.

She barely felt the exhaustion rack her bones as she darted for the grey slab before her. Bursting through the trees, she collapsed onto it. The cool pavement embracing her like a loved one. But there was nothing else to welcome her. No town. No car. No sign. There was simply a grey road in a distinct line, stretching into apparent nothingness. But nothingness no longer phased her. So, ducking back into the trees that flanked it, she set out, following the line into nothingness.

Ask me questions?

I'm going to rip off Liam and do an answer blog to questions you guys ask me. So if you want to know something, ask in the comments, kay? I also tweeted this. I hope I get some questions. : /

Please stop looking at me.

I'm walking in the mall. So are you. I'm female. You are not. I'm ignoring you. You're watching me. Stop.

I went to the mall today [obviously]. The only thing I bought was a chocolate-strawberry milkshake at Yogen Fruz. I totally just spelled that 'strawburry' at first. Haha. <3 After the mall, Gaby and I went to Timmies and sat there for over an hour playing a game of many names with pennies. We were both pros by the end, and I think we can take it on tour this summer. Buy tickets?

Today I also finished dailydress series one [finally!]. Everyone's saying how gorgeous all the pictures are. And I feel like such a fraud. Anyone can take an attractive picture. [Shoulders forward, collar bone out, stomach in, and arms angled appropriately. This is the formula for a good picture.] But, see, I don't think I really look like that. It's just a bunch of contortioning [sp?]. I literally take a bunch of pictures until I find the most flattering one for my face, body, and the dress. Dress #6 was so hard to snap, because it's long in length and makes my shoulders look wide. But I managed it after several billion snaps, and some people say it's their favorite. Which is weird for me. I wish I felt more confident to really say to myself, "Oh yeah. I look good in this no matter the angle." But I don't. Welcome to girldom. Emphasis on the dumb. But I do love every one of the dresses. And I'm glad people seem to as well. I enjoyed the series a lot, but I definitely need a break before I do it again.

Okay, I just read that back and it sounds really insecure. Let me clarify. I love how I feel in every one of the dresses, but I'm not arrogant enough to think that I necessarily look amazing in them irl. Whatever. We're moving on.

I have my Easter turkey dinner this Saturday. I'm super excited. I have to work that evening, but I may be able to go in at 6 p.m. instead of 5. I'm really hoping anyways. Turkey is amazing. A bunch of my family is coming down too, and I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone. Aaah! I want turkey NOW.

In other news, money still sucks. I can haz lottoz $$$ !?!?!?

x

Top 4 Sayings & Why We Love Them

4. 'Crazay in the Nazay!'

Translation: That's insane, man! Really. It's incomprehensible. My mind is, like, blown right now.
Origin: Jake & Amir
Use: This phrase can be used authentically or sarcastically. If something is legitimately 'crazay in the nazay' it is appropriate to say so, with added volume and body language to that effect. Similarly, if something is boring and you wish to mock it, 'crazay in the nazay' also applies [with added volume and body language to that effect].
Why we love it: Because it's CRAZAY in the NAZAY!

3. 'Hooch is crazy!'

Translation: Hooch [sometimes interchangeable with you] is literally deranged.
Origin: Scrubs
Use: This phrase can be used to confuse, to annoy, or to form an instant super-glue like bond with someone, depending on their Scrubs knowledge.
Why we love it: You'd know if you watched the show. Get out of my site. And sight!

2. 'Twinsies!'

Translation: You and I have one miniscule, insignificant thing in common! Come on, let's blow it out of proportion!
Origin: Interwebz conversation
Use: This phrase is used to form or affirm a bond with someone based on something mutually shared. Example: "We both have license plates - TWINSIES!"
Why we love it: You try saying 'twinsies' and not loving it. Not. Possible.

1. 'Nay'

Translation: Not, no, or anything negative.
Origin: Jake & Amir
Use: This phrase is inserted into an every day negative response in order to add spruce. Example: 'I can nay go to the mall.' - 'Why?' - 'I can nay afford it.'
Why we love it: Because 'no' just doesn't cut it anymore.

Irrational.

So I have been reading HayleyGHoover's blog since she recently linked it for BEDA, and I have to say, I do love it. She's spurred me to write things in lists. So I will.

Top 50 Things I've Been Thinking:

1. Holy crap Nicholas Cage has been holding out on us! [Adaptation *- 2002]
2. Being jealous of people online and trying to be more like them is pathetic and unavoidable.
3. Girls who tell you their exact weight despite the number are sexy.
4. Prove it, Obama.
5. I'm far too self-involved.
6. If you tallied all my thoughts together in a day, at least 98.2% would be about or directly relating to me and my well-being.
7. 98.2% is also about my normal body temperature.
8. Tanning brings cancer, and I really don't care.
9. IRL trumps URL for real. Sorry.
10. Taking a picture of myself everyday posing in a dress is vain.
11. Wow. I am really vain.
12. I should give Kevin 50 dollars.
13. Remember when Jessica Alba used to be my role model when she was cool? Me too.
14. Remember when we used to be friends? A long time ago.
15. Going from clinically depressed to elated 'nipper of the future's heels' is the pinnacle of instability.
16. Why is instability the longer version of unstable? Shouldn't it be unstability. Sounds like a pungent smell.
17. I love you, English.
18. I wonder if any relatively attractive male will ever be attracted to me.
19. I wonder what I'll do to scare this male away.
20. I wonder when/if I'll ever finish a novel.
21. What is the correct use of 'chutzpah'? I really should look that up again.
22. My dvd sets are my best friends.
23. Have to call Christine.
24. Don't want to lie to the doctor.
25. Have to lie to the doctor.
26. Don't want to lie to the doctor.
27. Be more mysterious.
28. I want legs like her.
29. I'm really glad I don't live in the U.S. They cancelled Mars Bars there.
30. Will I ever get to paint a room white and cover it in tin-foil? Like, ever?
31. I shouldn't have bought that. I'm going to return it. Where's the receipt?
32. How can I be more interesting?
33. I'm really interesting.
34. I should clean the closet, but I don't want to get attacked.
35. How many dust mites are on my pillow right now?
36. How many am I breathing in right now?
37. Do they eat the inside of your nostrils?
38. Dust mites are disgusting. I hate you, nature.
39. Poetry is the most self-indulgent art. No poet reads anyone else's seriously.
40. I wish I could be pop-culturally proficient like the Gilmores.
41. Me leaving the tap on does not take water from those kids in Africa.
42. I hope my dog outlives me.
43. Counting calories is stupid and you're going to crack in two days anyways. Stop it.
44. This bagel has 290 calories in it, and if i mix it with two tablespoons of schmear, nixing the butter, then that's like... 380 calories.
45. But I want the Mars Bar too.
46. I can totally have the Mars Bar. I nixed the butter.
47. Skype sounds are awesome.
48. I could swerve and hit them.
49. He doesn't deserve to be good-looking.
50. I wonder if my lamp will snap from the weight of my dresses.

This posted before I was ready for it to post.

It always does that! Rah.

Today I got a ton of stuff done! I finished what I thought was going to be about 5-6 hours of school work in a little over 3 hours. I'm so glad about getting all that stuff finished. It's a huge load off. Now I only have a major doctor's appointment tomorrow morning and an exam tomorrow afternoon to dread, but at least that's only two things.

I worked out and tanned today. It felt really nice doing summer things. Apparently working out is a summer thing. Who knew? It's supposed to snow tomorrow or the next day. Bye, sun. :[

I don't have too much else to report. I had a busy, productive day [two things I'm still getting used to] and I have to sign up for 2 more courses tomorrow which I'm scared to do. Fear of the unknown, see. But as of tonight I am finished coursework for Challenge and Change in Society and Writer's Craft! Two courses done completely! I just have to sit the final exams and then I'm only 3 credits away from finishing high school. How nice. Then it's summer, baby.

Well, I'm off for now. BEDA kind of sucks, doesn't it?

x

EVERYTHING IS FREEZING!!!

AAAAAH! Stupid computer. Has anyone else noticed how slow dailybooth is? It gets really annoying. I know it must be because the site is flooded all the time, but still. It bothers me.

I work tonight from 5 till midnight. It's not something I'm looking forward to because I'm out of the swing of things again. Since my hours have been cut, I find it harder to work the few shifts I actually have. I dread them and hate them and wish them pain. It'll be fine, but still. I'm dreading it. I want popcorn. Theatre popcorn. :]

I'm really enjoying doing the dailydress series on dailybooth. It's so much fun. And I don't have to think of what to do for my pictures for the next 10 days or so. I'm having fun.

I miss YouTube a bit. But not really. I've just got so much to do that I don't have the urge to make videos right now. I have a few projects coming up for YouTube but it all has to do with other people so that's obviously quite time-consuming. And with my current course load, which shouldn't be that much but is because I'm me, I can't film during the day as much. I have a feeling things will be back to normal soon with videos. It's just a pressure cooker right now for me.

I have this appointment with a doctor on Monday. And she's sort of scary. I didn't do what she told me to do, so I'm rather dreading our appointment. I'm thinking I can distract her with a ton of questions about my MRI results and keep her occupied. We'll see.

Also on Monday I have an exam or two. Probably just one. It doesn't matter. I'm not prepared for either of them. I think they'll go okay though. After the exam I have to set up two new courses. It's just all really stressful. I don't know why. It just is. I'm trying not to let it be so pointlessly weighty. There's just no reason to torture myself. I'm not a masochist.

I don't think....

Overwhelming yeah

I'm glad people have responded so positively to the Rush selections. I plan to keep writing them for fun. They help me plan things out. But it's so overwhelming. I feel like I'll never get them sorted. I just don't know with so much stuff. And when I do write something I just feel that it's not right. I hate that feeling. It's terrible.

Casey's progression is really difficult to write, because I want her to be a certain way but I also want to show growth. So I'm starting to figure out she's going to have to be different than how I originally wanted her. Which I always figured anyways, as she seemed so unflawed in the original scenarios.

Bah. Stressed. But I'm loving writing it so much. Even though it's different and wrong and doesn't have the right tone or voice. I hope that improves.

In other news I saw Adventureland tonight. I didn't like it much. It fell flat for me.

Bye bye blog world.

x

I'M GOEING 2 RITE TEH FICTIONZ!

I'm sort of excited. I'm falling in love all over again. The words 'first' 'novel' 'completion' and 'of' are no longer quite as scary*.

See previous two posts for examples of 'teh fictionz'.

[*They're still scary. However, there is a minuscule, barely registerable difference. It's the grain of sand that tips the scale, if you will. This particular grain of sand is named Belief and he now lives on the vast beach labeled 'Hopes and Dreams'.]

Casey wasn't good at surrenduring.

Casey never slept. Even before Aslane, she would only doze in ten minute intervals, never fully surrendering to sleep. But tonight there was another factor deterring her from rest. Her body was shaking.

Casey felt the spasms wrack her frame, and rolled off the ledge of the bed. She allowed the crash to the cement permeate her bones. The pain was shockwaves that inflamed every nerve ending. Shockwaves she'd longed for for over a week. Might as well feel the pain while she could, she thought. Better pain than unbearable stillness any day.

She hadn't slept at all in the last six days she'd spent in CORE*. In fact, her specific instructions had been not to move at all. So she lay there. On the specialised grid floor for one hundred and forty-four hours. Now the trouble seemed to be that she couldn't stop moving.

"What are you doing?"

Trey was at the bars again.

"Dying or something," Casey answered. Somehow her words made it past her flailing arms and through the bars to him.

"Auditory?" he asked, watching her seize as though it were nothing.

"Yeah." Casey's arm smacked the pavement with extra force and she bit her lip. "You'd think they'd get bored of the soundtrack after the first five days."

"They had you on Auditory the entire time?" he spat the words at her in disbelief.

"Yeah. The horn thing is unbearable."

Trey seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Did you move?"

"Once," she replied, fighting back the shriek in her head. "Moving makes it louder."

A sigh escaped from beyond the bars, but Casey was too focused on not impailing herself on her bed post to look at Trey's face. She figured she'd be still again soon enough. This was simply her body reacting to her paralyzing it for just under a week.

"Sit up. Blood flow," Trey added.

Casey edged her way to the bars and curled her fingers around them, hoisting herself a few feet upwards and bracing her seizing body against the steel. Trey's hands found her waist and pinned her tighter to the bars.

"Easy, perv," she said through gritted teeth. She didn't dare open her mouth more than a fraction. She wanted to keep all her teeth, and her body wanted to shake, rattle, and bang them out of her jaw by force.

"Do you want a concussion?"

To emphasise his point, Trey loosened his grip and Casey's torso immediately slammed its self against the divide. Casey could feel his smirk from behind her as he held her down again.

"You're mean," she hissed.

"You're insane."

Casey turned her head slightly. A new tone had gripped him and he sounded oddly displaced.

"I've never heard of anyone doing six days before. Ever."

"That's because all the six day-ers died of concussion. They didn't have handsy cell-mates." Casey laughed. "Dante would have let me smash my skull right in half."

"No. He wouldn't have 'let' anything. He'd physically help you bang your head against the payment.

She heard a small laugh behind her, but wasn't fooled. She'd felt the edge in his voice. He was thinking the same thing she was. Why was Deckland subjecting her to heavily advanced CORE procedures? What else exactly did he want to prove? 'I'll torture you like I've never tortured anyone before for making me chase you all over Chicago for a year.' Casey snorted. That sounded like Deckland to her.

After a few more minutes the spasms began to subside. She had no doubt there was a whole army of lab analysts on the other side of the camera recording her every action. And she had no plans to show weakness, despite the continuing stabbing pains emanating from her very core.

"Are you sure push-ups are the best move right now?" Trey asked.

Casey looked up from push-up twelve to see him watching her almost boredly. She knew he was most interested when he seemed bored. She ignored him and finished her set.

After a few hundred push ups, she flopped on her cot, allowing the electrifying pain to consume her. It reached from her ribs, to her biceps, to her brain, flooding everything and anything connected to the last. It was a strange vice, but since her last CORE exercise, Casey was thankful for every bodily function having to do with movement. Even pain.

She doubted that this quirk would continue for very long. But the idea that it may have a lasting effect both thrilled and terrified her. There was no doubt in her mind that feeling pain as an indulgence instead of a consequence would be helpful in her current circumstances, but the idea that a method of continual auditory torture made her revert so far into herself that she emerged a different, affected being, terrified her. She couldn't let them change her. She couldn't let him win. Ever.

Deckland would say her new trait was a weapon. But he was wrong. It was a coping mechanism. She was embracing the pain because she was terrified of it. Terrified of not being in control. Of being controlled. If she was going to get through this without morphing into one of their clones, she had to face it. All of it.

She had to fight back.


[*Centre for Oppositional and Resistance Exercises]

Rush

This is something I wrote this morning to let off some steam. I was inspired to write, and I know these two quite well. Still, this scene didn't go exactly as planned. I intended to write it differently, but it got away from me. Like it always does with this one. You see, this is my very oldest project. It's been years in the making and I can never quite get it right in my head so most of it is completely unwritten. This selection is not the beginning or the end; it's in the middle somewhere. The very large middle. I don't expect people to understand much, but I expect it'll be interesting never the less if you're into this type of novelly thing.

*~*~*

She awoke, the familiar embrace of concrete, biting and cold beneath her. Slowly, her vision swam into focus. The bars. They were the first thing - the only thing she saw - before she clamped her eyes shut again. Nothing had changed. It wasn't a nightmare.

"How long was I gone?"

She felt the sound slip from her chapped lips into the darkness like a ribbon in a very weak breeze. And Trey's voice carried from beyond the bars.

"Six days."

She opened her eyes and twisted her legs lithely beneath her. She felt as though she were moving underwater. Slowly. Fluidly. Weighted. She examined herself quickly before turning her eyes to the boy.

"And... were you..." Casey blinked at his shadow. "Did they?"

"No. Still nothing."

She could see him now, her partner, cradled comfortably on the floor in the corner of the confine beside her, separated by rungs of heavy-cast steel. His hands drooped lifelessly over his knees, and he bowed his head. She could hear him breathing. It was far too deliberate a thing.

"You look all right," he said finally, the words escaping on a breath.

Casey looked at him, the silhouette in a cell. His head was level with hers now across the room.

"Yeah," she managed through barely parted teeth. "What'd they have you at?"

Trey's fingers twitched.

"Scopes. Wind velocity and angle crap."

Casey nodded once. It was clear by his bleak tone that Trey didn't value the skills he had picked up in her absence. The silence was turning tangeable. It always did. Casey blinked hard, as though that would shake Trey's attention away.

Now that she had concentrated, the room danced in front of her in perfect clarity. It wasn't so dark anymore. In fact, her eyes had adjusted perfectly. Night was just a dimmer, more silvery day as far as her vision was concerned.

Trey's head hit the wall rather violently, and a dull thud echoed the room. Casey saw his legs go rigid on the concrete.

She examined his face. It was course and lined from his foul expression, one she was not accustomed to, aside from these nights. His scowl was prominent, and despite his clenched eyes, he rubbed his face slowly. It was almost as though he was in physical pain. He looked much older than eighteen.

"I'm going to ask. You know I'm going to ask," he said tiredly, though Casey knew this apparent fatigue couldn't be farther from the truth.

"I'm not going to tell you."

And there he was at the bars between them. But Casey was used to these unusually rapid happenings by now.

"What?" she asked, still seated.

"You have to tell me what happened."

"I don't have to do anything."

Trey slammed the bars.

"You can't give them that! You can't stuff it away; they'll break you. You have to deal with it now."

Casey suddenly wished she was closer to the wall so she could slam her head against it too.

"What good will it do?" she spat at him, furious now.

His mouth fell open in disbelief.

"What good will it do? You have to make it through this alive and the way you're coping you'll be lucky to last another set!"

"I'm not coping the way they taught you to cope you mean."

Trey stared at her, eyes thin.

"That's not fair."

"You're right it's not," Casey shot back. "I'm seventeen. This isn't supposed to be happening. Not even in this place. I don't have the background for this. I don't have the practised, compartmentalized brain that someone who goes through these exercises is supposed to have, so why should I even try the 'right' methods of coping when I don't even know how to use them?"

She was seething now, and Trey had his hands curled around the bars between them so tightly, she briefly wondered if they would break off.

"You're being stupid and pig-headed," he said through the bars.

"At least I'm good at stupid and pig-headed." Casey allowed one more glare before standing and walking the few feet to the bed, opposite the bars between them. "And I'm still alive thank you very much," she said, falling onto the comfortless sheet.

She heard footsteps retreating and bedsprings springing as Trey fell into his own cot.

"You've got a good point, but that's not why you're not saying." The bed springs creeked again. "Are you scared of reliving it or something?"

"I'm scared of who's listening."

Her eyes shot to the ceiling, more specifically to the camera in the far corner, taking in her entire cell. She had a feeling Trey was looking at the one in his as well.

Then he let out a burst of laughter.

"Is that it?" he rasped.

"Well, coupled with the other stuff and the whole 'not wanting to relive it' bit. Yes." Casey turned to the bars.

Trey was facing her too, exactly twenty-two feet away. She knew. She'd measured the distance in her head once.

"You're ridiculous," he said still laughing. "I give you ten minutes before you realize you either face all this with me right now or you're dead by next week."

Casey raised her eyebrows.

"And the communicating in front of the camera? I guess your brilliant plan would be gnawing through the non-existent wires with my teeth?"

"Oh, don't be coy, Case. You've already got it worked it out. You forget I know your freakish brain."

Casey blinked.

"Come on. Lay it on me," he pried.

"What kind of linguistics team do you think they have on staff?" Casey asked, after a pause.

Trey considered this for a minute.

"Your basic stuff. German, Japanese, French, and Russian for sure."

"All in one person?"

"I doubt it."

Casey smiled.

"How's your Hindi?" she asked.

"Rusty. Yours?"

"Similar." She paused. "Time to shine it up?"

"No matter what we use they'll be able to translate it."

"Oh ye of little faith."

Casey pulled the sheet up past her shoulder and held it up slightly with one hand. Then holding the other hand under the sheet, she motioned "hello" in sign language. Trey returned the favor and mimicked her action.

Now there were two cells, two sheet blockades shielding two hand-signing teenagers, and two cameras that could not see a thing.

"How was your day, dear?" Casey asked in perfect Hindi, all the while signing, "The Hindi distracts them while we sign. Call me a genius," from behind the camera-blocking blanket.

Trey repressed a laugh.

"Boring. Calculating angles is boring," he responded in slightly jilted Hindi. "You're a genius," he signed at the same time.

"Ah, yes, I've heard that," Casey replied, before signing, "You weren't lying. Your Hindi sucks."

"I would really like some pineapple, a guitar, and a flexible dancer." Trey jerked his head. "Take that."

"I would like some pineapple also," Casey said rolling her eyes. They would have to pick a more familiar language next time. She waited a few moments before signing her real response. "You're right. I should talk about it. But not tonight, okay?"

"Pineapple is very good." Trey nodded slightly. "Okay. Tomorrow."

"I very much enjoy papaya." She sighed. "I may not be here tomorrow."

"Papaya is very good." Trey shook his head. "You'll be here tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, pineapple."

Casey considered carrying on their inane Hindi fruit conversation and actually telling Trey what had happened to her, specifically during the last six days, but the darkness kept swallowing that notion every time it appeared in her head. It wasn't the time. Was he right about not keeping those things locked in her head for them to break out again? Yes. But it just wasn't the time.