Well, well, well. We're back again. Why? I don't know. I've been dreading updating my journal all day. Yes, that's right. When I woke up at . . . when was class? Ten? Yes, ten AM, I thought, "Today I will write in my journal," and then suddenly I broke into a cold sweat at the mention of the word
write. That's right, I messed up by using that word, and so for the longest time I came to the post page, stopped to think, and immediately found something better to do. Why? Because I used
write.In this mind frame, that is entirely the wrong word to be using. I don't even want to see the word. I'm gagging from having to type it!
Why am I hesitant to
write? I'll give you a hint: she's a girl, her name starts with C, and she's a total jerkface. Give up? It's Chloe! Some weeks ago I went and deleted the 7 pages that made up half of chapter eight (I didn't get very far because I was blocked) and I think it was two days ago that I spit out 6 pages. One short of making up those lost. And I was happy with 6, I really was, but now I'm not so happy with them. Chloe turned from indifferent and deep thinking to actiony and . . . not really shallow, just kind of small headed. Anyone understand that? I don't.
But when I finished those pages I sat back in my chair and thought, "Oh crap, after her episode with Paris--which I don't know what I'm going to have them do--and after she sees Drake, what am I going to do with her?" Because she can't keep running back to Paris. This last thing he did was a little too high on her creepy meter, and Chloe doesn't do creepy. So is this coming to the end? I have some of the sequel in mind, because yes, it does have one sequel, but I don't want the first one to end quickly like
Bloody Moon. I still have to redo that ending--scratch that, make it the whole thing!
Yes, Rowena still needs a major face lift. Clean up the plotholes and pathetic situations.
Also, to anyone who asks about my characters' parents, they are there. I acknowledge them, unlike some teen books. Chloe's parents will play a huge role in the second book, because she got herself grounded for life, and she's learning to drive and getting a job and whatnot. Just because she's not quite human anymore doesn't mean she's going to abandon her human life. I like to keep the human aspect in my books.
"Perhaps it's the head that I found in the lake."
Oh yes, swamp monster, it's definitely the head.
"Does it still have a foot?"
Jack says no, but I say yes.
Sorry. Nightmare Before Christmas is playing now.
So school started. Who wants to hear about that? Oh, the fair also started, but who cares? I don't show animals anymore; I have no reason to go. But we're still going on Wednesday; apparently my parents believe I'm really excited to go. No thanks. . . .
"Something's up with Jack, something's up with Jack. Don't know if we're ever going to get him back."
"Never says a word. Hope he hasn't died."
Cutting lyrics, but hey, that's how I roll.
Anyway, school. Um, funny story about my school year so far.
Last year we went to Open House to see my teachers and whatnot. I spoke with my adviser about certain classes; she said I could choose whatever I wanted. Okay, great, awesome! Put me down for French and Astronomy; I know I'll have that other stuff, but I don't care about repeated classes, I'll recycle my work. Great, now I'm down for those classes. School pulls around; my classes start to show up.
"WTF is this?! Spanish? Astrobiology?!" Yes, I said those exact words. I was livid! Got the curriculum and everything. Took out my Life and Job Skills book (yeah, they thought it would be a cute joke in the office, I suppose), taped the box up, and marked "Return to Sender." I ain't taking their crap.
Finally able to call into the office to see what was going on. The adviser I had last year no longer worked at the school, and she failed to mention to my new adviser that I asked for those two classes. Played phone tag with my new adviser, and I
still have no idea what his name is although he repeated it ten times, until things finally got sorted out.
Now I want my awesome Astronomy software.
At Open House my science teacher (great guy; he's the reason, besides my obvious love for space, that I asked for Astronomy) showed me the software that his Astronomy class used. I immediately jumped on board. Yes sir, I want a piece of that hotness! I want to be able to track Louna all day and all night!
So yeah, classes sorted now, although I still think someone should be in that office two weeks before school starts instead of waiting for the first day and then coming in.
I was so very close to emailing the Spanish teacher back (she sends out welcoming emails and whatnot) and telling her to shove it. Couldn't stand her. Ugh.
English teacher doesn't seem so bad. I just hate that whole "Sign in with your last name first, and then your first name" rule. I don't like my name backwards unless there's a comma separating it--which there isn't!
French teacher . . . haven't met him yet. His class is in the morning, no, afternoon.
Geometry teacher is the woman who joined classes with my Algebra teacher before. She's nice. Still wish I had the other one, though. She was the best. . . .
Haven't met Geography yet, and I know the Life and Job Skills teacher; she was the health teacher. She's kinda quirky and nice, so I should be able to do the work. I don't know. We'll see how this year turns out. Nearing the end of my high school years . . . things are tough.
By the by, I know I'm weird, but I didn't know how weird until I found the realistic car that I want. Yes, yes, we all know my love for Lamborghini's and Bugatti's, but I can never possibly achieve those. I found my foot in Toyota's pond. Now, there's nothing wrong with Toyota, I like their models, and their certainly more reliable than Ford (note: Never ever drive a Ford! If you get it brand spankin' new, plastic still on it, right from the truck, you've got at least a year to drive it; get it used, between two to six months before it explodes. Girl knows. Girl has watched many people move through many Fords) but I never thought about getting one.
Then I saw the Yaris.
"Ohmygosh, what a cute car! It's so tiny and chubby looking! I will love it and name it George!" No I won't.
Anyway, I decided, whenever I get my license (never), and whenever I get a job (hopefully next year) and start saving money, I will have myself a Yaris. Of course, the idiot that I am, I went on looks and not dependability, so I'm still doing my research. Which isn't hard. I adore cars; I know most specs of sports cars or oldies. I can tell the difference between a good and bad car, right? We'll find out, next time, on . . . whatever!
Still want a 300, though. Oh my gosh, 2009 models--that huge grill! They are so pretty. My grandma has a 2008; love riding in it. Want it. No, want '09, big grill. I love that blunted front, as well.
Oh, Anitra's dance, nice choice WMP, nice choice.
Okay, so see, that wasn't hard at all. Just have to force the words out of my fingers and I can do it. So tired, though. Thinking of writing or actually writing makes me tired for some odd reason. But I'm always tired, so what does it matter?
Ohoh! Before I go, I forgot to tell you. I walked 4 miles.
In the sun! Okay, it was like, six in the evening, but I was still outside, in the dying (almost typed dyling, rofflecopter) sunlight, walking. Took some long trail just outside the university, went through the university (found out we have a fountain, who knew? Only ever went to the basketball stadium, and at night), and then went back the same way. Watched some Asian kid with a kite-like thing. He said the string was a kilometer all the way out. Whatever was attached to the end of the string was just a dark speck in the blue sky; it was pretty cool. He said he was trying to get it down on the walk back--and granted, it was getting bigger--but the wind kept pulling it higher and higher. Wonder if he ever got it down. Probably. Maybe. Should have.
With that, I'll leave you with a picture.
