I Am Getting Myself Into So Much Trouble With This
Listening: Out of Control - Mindy Smith
The blood is dry on the wounds I hide
The scars are settling in
So I keep the light low, and they still show
I sit, and count every stitch
But what it means, what it really means
It's time I let everything go that's
Killing me and turning me
And spinning me so out of control
I don't want to let go.
Golly gee. I think I keep forgetting that I have a blog to update. Actually, no. That's a complete lie. I don't forget, because I have friends who won't let me forget. I'm looking at you, Rykea/Jam/Cade. Lookin' at you hard. ...Okay my eyes hurt now.
So, in the time since I left, not much has happened. Here's the two biggest things.
1. I turned 19.
2. I lost my job.
Shocker? I know. Not the first one, that birthday thing happens every year. The second one. Don't ask me why or anything about it, because I don't know the reason behind the matter yet. Also please no condolences in my comments, if you feel the need. I'm just not really in the mood. I've been hearing them all week, and I'm at the point where I just want to put the matter behind me.
So with my unexpectedly open schedule, someone (lookin' at Jam again) brought to my attention... NaNoWriMo.
"But Julia, isn't that the whole reason you started this blog in the first place?"
Yes, it is. No, I didn't come anywhere near finishing the damn thing last year. No, shut up, I know. But I've been talking to Rykea, and the two of us having been hovering around the idea for a little more than a week. It doesn't help that I pointed the matter out to Cade, who happens to run a local writer's forum, and now a bunch of them are getting in on it and I'm starting to feel kind of responsible for the whole thing.
I might do it. If I can find myself a plot before then. If you could start checking under rocks, I'd really appreciate it. Let me know if you find anything.
By the by: that death-illness I was experiencing? It turned out to be strep throat. I was on a whole cocktail of drugs for more than a week, and I still couldn't swallow after the sixth day. Worst Thanksgiving dinner ever? Yeah, pretty much.
My birthday party was good, for anyone wondering. A night of Mexican food and watching Hot Fuzz with the best people in the universe = my idea of a good time. Also I got some pretty sweet stuff, including (but not limited to) a kick-ass scarf, Shakespeare magnet poetry, Shaun Tan's The Arrival (the most beautiful graphic novel I have ever seen), a bunch of awesome DVDs (Blow, The Last Unicorn (shut up), and Pan's Labyrinth), and a motherfucking elephant teapot. I love all of you guys. Seriously.
I should run and do some writing. My muse has been working overtime lately, and I'm really not in the mood to defy him if he's feeling generous. Perhaps I'll post a clip of the almost-too-epic sequence I wrote in the dead of night last night with Within Temptation pumping my ears, interspersed with The Poet and the Pendulum by Nightwish. I think I expressed it best to Rykea, earlier today.
Me: Gosh, it's 10 PM and I'm done studying for my exam tomorrow. What should I do now?
Mordagus and Sylvanus: Well... we were going to have a really epic battle sequence in our beast forms, if you wanted to come to that. We kinda need someone to write it down...
Me: Yeah that sounds like a good time.
*later*
2 AM: Hey guys! I'm here!
Me: Oh shit. Who invited 2 AM?
Mordagus and Sylvanus: *point at each other*
The good times are over when 2 AM shows up.
Adieu, darlings.
Icarus is serious about checking under those rocks. Start immediately, please.
The blood is dry on the wounds I hide
The scars are settling in
So I keep the light low, and they still show
I sit, and count every stitch
But what it means, what it really means
It's time I let everything go that's
Killing me and turning me
And spinning me so out of control
I don't want to let go.
Golly gee. I think I keep forgetting that I have a blog to update. Actually, no. That's a complete lie. I don't forget, because I have friends who won't let me forget. I'm looking at you, Rykea/Jam/Cade. Lookin' at you hard. ...Okay my eyes hurt now.
So, in the time since I left, not much has happened. Here's the two biggest things.
1. I turned 19.
2. I lost my job.
Shocker? I know. Not the first one, that birthday thing happens every year. The second one. Don't ask me why or anything about it, because I don't know the reason behind the matter yet. Also please no condolences in my comments, if you feel the need. I'm just not really in the mood. I've been hearing them all week, and I'm at the point where I just want to put the matter behind me.
So with my unexpectedly open schedule, someone (lookin' at Jam again) brought to my attention... NaNoWriMo.
"But Julia, isn't that the whole reason you started this blog in the first place?"
Yes, it is. No, I didn't come anywhere near finishing the damn thing last year. No, shut up, I know. But I've been talking to Rykea, and the two of us having been hovering around the idea for a little more than a week. It doesn't help that I pointed the matter out to Cade, who happens to run a local writer's forum, and now a bunch of them are getting in on it and I'm starting to feel kind of responsible for the whole thing.
I might do it. If I can find myself a plot before then. If you could start checking under rocks, I'd really appreciate it. Let me know if you find anything.
By the by: that death-illness I was experiencing? It turned out to be strep throat. I was on a whole cocktail of drugs for more than a week, and I still couldn't swallow after the sixth day. Worst Thanksgiving dinner ever? Yeah, pretty much.
My birthday party was good, for anyone wondering. A night of Mexican food and watching Hot Fuzz with the best people in the universe = my idea of a good time. Also I got some pretty sweet stuff, including (but not limited to) a kick-ass scarf, Shakespeare magnet poetry, Shaun Tan's The Arrival (the most beautiful graphic novel I have ever seen), a bunch of awesome DVDs (Blow, The Last Unicorn (shut up), and Pan's Labyrinth), and a motherfucking elephant teapot. I love all of you guys. Seriously.
I should run and do some writing. My muse has been working overtime lately, and I'm really not in the mood to defy him if he's feeling generous. Perhaps I'll post a clip of the almost-too-epic sequence I wrote in the dead of night last night with Within Temptation pumping my ears, interspersed with The Poet and the Pendulum by Nightwish. I think I expressed it best to Rykea, earlier today.
Me: Gosh, it's 10 PM and I'm done studying for my exam tomorrow. What should I do now?
Mordagus and Sylvanus: Well... we were going to have a really epic battle sequence in our beast forms, if you wanted to come to that. We kinda need someone to write it down...
Me: Yeah that sounds like a good time.
*later*
2 AM: Hey guys! I'm here!
Me: Oh shit. Who invited 2 AM?
Mordagus and Sylvanus: *point at each other*
The good times are over when 2 AM shows up.
Adieu, darlings.
Icarus is serious about checking under those rocks. Start immediately, please.
posted by Icarus at 5:02 PM
2 Comments:
Oh, you are SO posting a part of that sequence. *poke poke* And yeah, 2am should be shot. 1am, not so bad. 3am, you know it's too late to get sleep anyway. But 2am? Bitch.
Ha, I'm part of your responsible feeling for NaNoWriMo. I've never felt so special in my life, EVER! You write really pretty.
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