Woop?

I have a number of pokemon plush stacked on top of my bed. They're adorable, but I have noticed that more and more of them fall off onto my head at some point during the night, so I'll wake up and see two large, fabric-filled eyes staring back at me, and I'll admit it can freak me a little.

But seriously, I love these guy if for no other reason than the workout my imagination can get from them. My teddiursa is the pokemon on the right here, and he's the new one in the group. I just got him this weekend and I believe he hasn't quite learned the hierarchy of my dear plush friends (but he soon will).

At the top of this social scale that is my bed is Eevee (a little dog-like pokemon with giant ears and a fox-like tail). He considers himself the top because not only is he one of my oldest pokemon, but he's also heralded from far off lands (namely my God-sister Paige's bedroom). He's one of the smallest, but also one of the fiercest.

His second in command is my Pikachu plush (who is by far the oldest of my plush). He's a nice old pikachu, a little worn and just wants to relax, but he goes along with Eevee simply because he feels like the older pokemon need to stick together, to put up a good example for the younger pokemon.

There are all kinds of personalities that reside on my bed; Pichu has the attention span of a three year old, Tabunne has decided to take on the role of mother to the group, and Wooper (the pokemon above on the left) might have just a few screws loose, although it might be because of this that he's also the most loved.

Teddiursa is still new enough that I don't know any of his quirks yet, but trust me. They'll show up sooner or later.

How to Recognize a Writer

A.P. English Literature (and Composition, if anyone cares) today was all about suspense. Of course, since it was taught by students it had the routine quiz (multiple choice) and movie clip (Sherlock Holmes) associated with all student teachings (not student teachers, these are students from our class teaching us because our teacher is lazy). Then we had an activity. Put into three groups of about nine people each, we were to do a "roundabout" suspense story. Each student gets the paper for thirty seconds to write as much suspenseful literature as they can, then passes it on. Now, in our group of nine, I'm pretty sure I was the only person who ever writes anything that's not for school, so when that paper came to me, I decided it was about time I showed it. Signature purple pen in hand, I wrote about half of our overall total story which, out of the three stories written by our class, was by far the best (not my words, thank you Meredith). The story was about a character (written in first person, I always assumed it was a girl) who walks through an old abandoned house (why?!) and begins to feel that she's not alone because she hears growling and creaking footsteps (because the ditz entered an old house alone at midnight), not so long story short, it ended up she was being followed by "a cat", which is in quotations because that is the whole of what the last kid in our group, David, wrote in his thirty seconds. Stroke of genius, my friend. Also, now I really want to see Sherlock Holmes.

Police Cars: Why?

Ever notice how everyone on the road will automatically slow down when they see a police car? Even if people are going the speed limit, it's still such a habit to slow down because police cars are scary. They are. The worst part of this is the fact that although they're on the road to keep people safe (I assume), policemen end up often being the cause of near-accidents. I cant say how many times I've seen the cars around me have to put on their brakes just a little too fast because they didn't notice that the car in front of them was decelerating at, I dunno, about 20m/h^2 (that's physics). Maybe it's just me, but I really feel like Policemen might further their cause a little farther by driving a car that doesn't scream criminals hide now because you see me before I see you (it's a lot to scream, but those are some impressive cars). I respect policemen. It takes a lot of guts to be made fun of your whole life by the teenage community. But really, I feel like that whole "undercover" thing should catch on a bit more. Everyone goes the speed limit if cops are around. Yet, I know of very few people that will otherwise.

Welcome to America, please hand over your hope and sanity at the door

When I was little (third grade, to be exact; I wrote it down), my favorite movie was 1776, the absolutely fantabulous musical about signing the Declaration of Independence. Also, I like living in America. There are few places that I would consider living other than right here. This is my home, I admit that.
However, I don't know the Pledge of Allegiance. I'm seventeen, a senior in a public high school in a good suburban neighborhood, and yet it's true I don't know the Pledge of Allegiance. Does this make me unpatriotic?
In America, we're supposed to celebrate the Fourth of July with outdoor barbeques and parties, it's a day during which American children around the country should be waving around those cheap little flags and adults around the country should be proceeding to get drunk on good old American beer. Then the whole of America should be lining themselves up on sidewalks and in parks to watch the fireworks spectacles that pollute our skies. I missed the fireworks entirely last year, and there's a good chance that I wasn't wearing red, white, or blue. Does that make me unpatriotic?
The Star Spangled Banner was the very first song that I was taught how to play on the french horn in my middle school band class, and I played it with very few mistakes during every concert following. Yet the song bored me to death and ever time we played it all I would think was that I wanted to get it over with so that we could get on to the real exciting music. Does that make me unpatriotic?

Well to be honest, I feel a whole lot more patriotic than most of the country right now. Why? Because I look forward to my future.
Americans today are still slowly recovering from an economic meltdown, which I am reminded of every time I read Time magazine, or read a newspaper, or take notes in my Psychology class. Trust me, it's been drilled into my head so deep that I'll be thinking that we're still recovering from that same meltdown when I'm 80. I've got sympathy for my fellow Americans out there that are having a hard time, finding it near impossible to get by. I know the economy could take a decade or more to fix, and I know that our jobs crisis is a very real one. I know that our banks could still fail, that our economy could crash again, that my parents could lose their jobs and I could lose the standard of living to which I've become accustomed. It seems that I've grown up in an America where everyone's been telling me that it's my generation that's gonna suffer, that's gonna have to clean up the mess of the economy, the environment, the whole freakin' world. I've been given more than fair warning about the troubles that lie ahead, we all have.
But the thing is, I have in my possession one crucial feature that all you so-called patriotic Americans don't. I have hope. Why does everyone seem to forget that America has gone through the Great Depression? That it's survived countless wars, even those against its own people? We, as Americans, are stronger than we know. I know this, and I know that although things can always get worse, I also know that things can always get better. I know that I can persevere through whatever is thrown at me and come out better on the other side. Do you know what happens when you lose your job? You look for a new one. You learn to live below your current means. Americans should be resilient. I hope to be resilient, and I know I am I fighter. I hope for a brighter America and I am willing to work my way there. We have not lost the fight until we have lost everything. And we have not lost everything. Not by a long shot.

Organization

What exactly is it? About organization and cleanliness, I mean. When I was little, I was always a mess; no one could get through my room without injuring themselves, the livingroom would be covered with my toys until Dad made me pick them up, and the library (aka my art room) was just a pile of my art supplies, because whenever I would draw something new or get new supplies, I would just dump them on the pile of stuff on that little wooden desk when I was done with whatever it was (or when Dad told me that it had to be out of the livingroom before I went to bed). My schoolwork, even, was a mess! I never cleaned out any of my folders, so there would be papers in the back from the first day of school! Or when we has place mats on elementary school, I would have so much artwork stuffed under them that the place mat would literally be an inch off of the table. I was always a disorganized mess.
So, whatever changed in me, is it normal? I'm organized now beyond belief, I have compartments and folders and drawers for every little thing, even for those things which I don't have yet! I cant stand having a messy floor in my room, and every week I go through my school folders to see what stuff I can take out and recycle. Does everyone go through this change? Is it just a fad that will fade with time? Am I going to go totally nuts in eight months when I get a roommate who may or may not be as clean as I? I know some people will always be a mess, and until just recently I figured I was going to be one of them, yet here I am with my nonfiction in a separate bookcase from my fiction, and my manga organized by genre. Was I always going to end up this way? Or was is a conscious change I made at one point?

Reinvention

What does it take to reinvent yourself?

I don't know if that's really what I'm trying to do - reinventing myself, I mean. But I just don't really like the way that I've felt portrayed lately. I've felt messy, disorganized, a little childish. But I want to mature a little. Get my act together, organize all those references of myself that are out there, improve all those long-outdated accounts of mine that I have had once upon a time.
The first thing I've done is to get my school work organized. I know my due dates now, I've always got my homework in order, my due dates written out in a convenient location where I can easily locate them and cross them off with a satisfied smile when they're done with. So my school work, at least at the moment, is a check.
The next thing I've done is to organize my room. It's clean, even my mom admits it now. I've got a place for everything, and everything is either in its place or hidden in my closet (a work in progress). It's not perfect - I still have a completely empty bookshelf that I don't know what to do with, and a couple other shelves that I don't really feel like as if they're organized to my satisfaction. but it's clean and I'm keeping it that way, it's organized too, I can tell you where to find almost anything in my room (with the exception of my buckeye merchandise apparently).
Now, the next part of this reinvention, or reimaging, or whatever you would like to call it, is organizing my internet sites. My blogs, my accounts, my artwork, whatever. Now, I'm not really sure how to efficiently do this, so I'm going to do it through this blog. So congrats, you guys get to learn more about me than you ever wanted to know. I'm going to start this process by listing all of my accounts here, and going from there to update and remodel them.

TheHeadOnCollision on Blogspot
Collision Quotations on Blogspot
Earthangel Nathaniel on Blogspot
Chikurika on Livejournal
TheHeadOnCollision on DeviantART
TheHeadOnCollision on Free Rice
Rhulaine on Fuzz Academy
StableGirl13 on GaiaOnline
Rhulaine on Neopets

I Like to Think That This is the Twenty Second Century

In approximately one month minus eight days plus however many seconds you care in which the answer is November first, there will be quite a joyous celebration. Joyous and frantic that is. Why? Because November first shall be the first day of NaNoWriMo, also known as National Novel Writing Month. This will be my third year (at least) competing, and perhaps this year I may even get close to finishing what I started!
I've gotten a better start already this year than I have in the past; I have discovered the joys of an outline. Now, let's not mistake ourselves and believe that my outline is at all organized or readable, but the important thing is that it's purple, and so far it fits all on one page. Also it's illegible, but I think that may fall in the "negatives" category.
I haven't actually decided if this story will be prepared enough to be my official nanowrimo novel, but here's hoping. If not, of course, I'll have plenty of back ups, but I feel good about this. This may, for once in my life, go somewhere. Wish me luck.
I'm organizing everything into my EarthAngel Nathaniel blog, so check there to see what's happening with that, and where it's going. I promise nothing, as always, for I am less than reliable in anything pertaining to deadlines, or even finishing anything. But there's hope. There's always hope.

Oh, and the twenty first century is gone. We're in the twenty second century now. How else can you explain how amazing photoshop is?

I Just Wanna Update This

So it's 10:25 at night and I should be asleep, or at least in the process of getting a shower, you know? But I'm not. Hopefully I will be soon, but I really feel like I wanna blog something of some kind, so here I am! I shall make it fast!

I always wonder what it would feel like to be professional. To be one of those people that knows that you're being watched, that what you say is actually getting through to someone out there. It must be an incredible thought, to know that your opinion matters, even if it is just to a select few. To be one of those people that's good enough at acting like you have it all together that people actually believe your little act, maybe even to the point where you start to believe it as well. Yes, I'd love to be a professional, but my life is just too full of that familiar, comforting chaos to get anywhere past the opening scene of becoming an expert at anything other than my own thoughts. No, even that is too complex and unintelligible for anyone but our own creator to really understand. Ah well. Better luck next time.

How old are you again?

I feel like a real high schooler now. I've got a stack of books and a laptop on my bed. I've got a texty texty phone (that just went off) sitting directly in front of me, and I'm surrounded by cool advanced homework! Plus, I have car keys splayed on the floor to my right. When did I grow up?

Outfits

Today strted with an outfit. A blue flutter skirt and a light blue babydoll tee. Why did today start with that outfit? Because last night we watched the final episode of the fourth series of Doctor Who. The final episode with David Tenant. It was heartwrenching and dreadful and wonderful all at the same time. The wonderful part came at the very end, which I was quite surprised about. I had always figured that after David Tenant left, Doctor Who would be over for me. You always love your first Doctor, you know? But... At the end of the episode, after I got all choked up from Tenant's last line, "I don't want to go," then Matt Smith appeared. He's not as hansome as Tenant is. He doesn't seem quite as well dressed, but when he started counting his fingers, and his voice broke at the prospect of, "I'm a girl! ...No, I'm not a girl!" I must admit, my heart did heal just a little. He wont be as bad as I originally thought. The excitement of a new beginning stuck with me the rest of the night, and that's where the outfit came from. I'll admit it, the Doctor has a love of the British so I, being an American, am kind of out of the running for being his companion. But... But jsut for one day perhaps I can join him on some kind of adventure. I don't know yet what the adventure would be, but I do know this. I will be wearing a blue flutter skirt and a light blue babydoll tee when I run into him. So it shall happen. Just wait and see.

This Really Belongs on Facebook

Some day we will look back on today. We will say things like "what were we thinking?" "we could have done so much better!" "Why did we do that?" and forever on. But some day, oh some day. You are not today, some day. So I shall live my days with freedom and with excitement. Do not live for the future that you will regret, live for the future you want. But do not live for a future you want if you will some day look back and regret your past.

I'm Not Insane I'm Noooot... Not Insane.

Music weeding. I wonder sometimes if I'm the only one that does this. It's a result of my OCD-like tendencies that I do it myself. I go through my iTunes and CDs, and rework them. I get rid of old songs that I don't actually like, i go through and rate (or re-rate) all of my songs, upload new ones, and see what CDs are missing and what CDs I want to buy. It's a little tedious sometimes, but I find that the more I have my music organized, the more the rest of my life is organized (change your habits, then your way of thinking, as Mrs. Matushonek says).
A major problem that I run into though, while I'm doing this, is that I'm never quite sure what music I want to give up. With this particular music purge, I was actually transferring my music to a whole new computer, which made things at least a little easier. First, any music that wasn't mine (i.e. Justin's) wasn't transferred over. Then, I went through only the CDs that were stacked up on my dresser and uploaded them to my shiny new comp. From there, my deductive skills took over and I made a list of what CDs a certain someone still hadn't returned that I needed back (still waiting on those two Showbreads!). But then I have an issue. There were a number of songs bought off of iTunes by Justin and myself on my account name, so they're all technically mine. But just because I own a kind of fun Green Day song, does that mean I should transfer that one over? I mean, of course I transferred over all the songs that I had purposefully bought like Steppin Out by Manafest, and XOXOXO by Secret and Whisper, but what about those songs and CDs that Justin had wanted to buy, like Avenged Sevenfold? And Monty Are I? I never disliked them, heck I even liked a lot of them, so which ones do I keep? I don't like having music in my iTunes that I don't explicitly think of as mine, and that was what all that was. My biggest problem was Chiodos, because I've never really liked the idea of Chiodos itself, but every time I go through the songs we bought I would find myself really enjoying the music. But it's not a RadioU band, and I don't like the cover of the CD, and I don't really like the CD itself. But I do like the songs. It was a conundrum that puzzled me all night. Finally I just went through my iTunes again this morning and simply deleted all those songs that I didn't explicitly think of as mine. So major problem solved, I guess. But it's not quite over. I'm not sure what to do about music videos... There's a The Almost video and a Relient K video that i do actually like, but I don't like the way they look on iTunes (you know, that big blank space after the one title, since they're basically their own album). So do I let my OCD-tendencies completely take over and delete all the videos too? I'm just not sure any more....

Oh to Stagger Startle Stun

I love to shock people. To completely uproot what someone thought of me and who they thought I was. It's fun, and really makes me wonder why so many people just suppose things about me (makes me wonder if people see me as really flat...).

To tell people that I don't wear makeup.

To tell people that I've never kissed a guy.

To tell guys that I don't do hugs.

To show people my artwork.

To show people my collections.

To show how accepting I (apparently) am of others with different, shall we shay, habits.

To tell people I've never been inside Forever XXI.

To tell people that I go to Church twice a week.

To show people what my church is really like.

To switch from playing Family Force Five to Mindless Self Indulgence.

And then he turned the volume up.

And played me some of his MSI in return.

Good day today.

Epiphany

I don't read what I write.
That's not good.

Inferences

Isn't it amazing how little we can know about people? Or even how much we can think we know about someone that turns out to be entirely incorrect? First impressions aren't always the right impressions, and in my case they seem to be wrong more often than not. My abilities to ascertain what people are really like based on how they look and act - well it's basically just stereotyping. Of course, there's always the chance that my presumptions are perfectly correct, but there's also the strong chance that they're totally not. Lately, I've really been noticing all those mistakes that I've made in this regard over the last couple of years.
I don't really remember actually meeting the friends I had in middle school, so I don't really remember what I thought of them before they were my friends. What I do remember, however, is one of the first girls I met in high school. Well, she really wasn't one of the first that I met, so much as she was one of the first that I actually talked to. Let's call her Sempai. The first time I saw her was during one of my early visits to Art Club. She had a drawing out that she was working on, and when I glanced at it, one thing was quite obviously clear was that she was much better than I was at the time (in terms of artwork, that is). From that alone, I decided that she must be stuck up about her work ("who does she think she is, thinking that she's better than I am?"). When another girl at our table (let's call her April) asked for someone, anyone, to sketch her a copy of the picture she had so she could color it, the two of us took up the challenge (though neither of us actually said it out loud, so at first I didn't even know that I had competition). I finished the drawing first, and April happily took it. That's when I noticed that Sempai was actually drawing the same thing! She was only about halfway done, but at the same time her drawing had a certain level of skill that my simple little sketch simply didn't have. April, of course, was perfectly happy to have a second drawing to color, and thanked us both. I acted, as I often do, that it was great that she had gotten two drawings! But deep inside I had already decided that the two of us, Sempai and I, were clearly rivals (I had been playing much too much pokemon I think). Other than art club, I never really saw Sempai though, so I didn't really have much time to practice my rival-ness. She did, however, start to show up everywhere a couple months later. She passed my lunch table every day on the way to her own, which I had never really noticed her doing until my best friend Fox started saying hi to her every day. She never joined our table, but the two of them had obviously become friends. Then I started to notice that she was also there every Sunday at CT. I was confused, but really just figured that she had always been there and I had simply never noticed before. So she kept showing up in my life and I just... kind of ignored her. To be honest, I don't really remember when that started to change. I do remember that by the next year, when we learned that we had Honors Algebra 2 together, we were the best of friends. My assumption, of course, had totally missed the mark, She was nice, friendly, had an excellent sense of humor, and was always willing to help anyone that needed it. She's now my number one best friend in the world, and I've simply gotten over the fact that some people are better than me at art. Really, my problem was just that I'm secretly super competitive and I hate to lose at anything, which I must say sometimes makes it quite hard to make friends.
That was the happy story. I do also have some not-so-happy ones. See, I have this major issue with love blinding me to every fault of whomever the unfortunate person is that I'm crushing on. I think I have, at least a bit, outgrown this bad habit (though I'm sure I'll never totally escape it), but this factor presented itself most adamantly my sophomore year, on the first day of school, when I saw a certain boy standing at my bus stop (let's call him James). He had long blond hair, a body as tall and wide as the tree branch that fell off our tree when that almost-hurricane struck a couple years ago. It pains me to say it, but if he still looked like that, I may still be working hard trying to suppress my feelings for him. Anyway, at school I started finding every excuse I could to pass by his table during lunch, or even sit down and have a conversation with April who, conveniently, sat at the same table he did. I don't know what hints he picked up on, but he just came up from the back of the bus one day to sit beside me (oh gawd that made my stomache flip the first time that happened). He started to do that once or twice a week, and then more regularly, until he was eventually sitting next to me every day. I was head-over-heels in love and since this was the first day a guy had ever responded to my feelings in any way other than to go "Oh God why me" and run off (thank you, Jesse), I really didn't know quite how to react. So I just kind of... let him in, One day he jsut simply followed me home and said "I'm gonna hang out at your house today." and I said "uh, what?" because it had been windy, and I though he had said he was gonna walk with me to my house. So yes, I was a little surprised when he walked in with me. This became a habit of his, to the point where, if he didn't come home with me, I would freak a little and wonder why and if he didn't like me (that's actually a regular thing I do- I'm a little people-reliant). We just kept getting closer from then on. He kept coming over, and eating my food and playing on our computer, especially to talk to his girlfriend. He used my iTunes, and when he got an iPod, he just synced it to my computer, since he didn't have one. I found myself spending al my money on whatever he wanted to get (especially at homechurch, if we had food money, I was buying and he was eating). Sempai, by this time my very best friend, constantly warned me about him. That he was a mooch that there was just something not quite right about him, that he's a a little emo wussy boy, and so on. It took me a year and a half to get the message, though I did get it eventually. Things still aren't back to the way they were before I met him. He still comes over and sleeps on my couch and eats my food, but at the same time, I've finally stood up for myself. i don't drive him to band practice or to meet with his girlfriend. I don't let him watch whatever he wants if I'm downstairs, and I especially don't let him get control of the radio. I need my radio.
That was the painful story. The one I don't like to talk about. Now, onto the new one! The new person in my life that I've actually written this whole post in order to get to! See, there's this kid that I've seen around school since Freshman year though, like so many people, I had always figured he was a year ahead of me (let's call him Jacob and hope Caitlin never reads this). Jacob always struck me as, how can I put this... a douche bag (wow, that looks horrible on print. Using the word verbally is a lot more kind than typing it). He had blond hair freshman year, always a little long and a little flippy. He also always wore this jacket that, although I know it had a bunch of colors on it and had a plaid pattern, I only ever remember as being yellow. He was one of those kids. You know, the ones that are total stoners, drinkers, smokers, etc. and want to show it off, as if it makes them all cool. April always hung with that group, even after she stopped doing what they were doing. I knew of a lot of people in that group and although I never knew any of them personally, my friends often did, and were never too pleased with them, in one way or another. At some point during Junior year, Jacob dyed his hair black and, although I had never interacted with him in the slightest, my judgement grew. He not only hung with those kids, he now looked like them too. I mean sure, I find black hair paired with pale skin pretty gosh darn cute, but I kind of lose interest in anyone that dresses the way he does just to fit in, which is what it seemed Jacob was doing. To be honest, I still have no clue what the reason behind that was, but there are a few circumstances that have changed surrounding him and myself. First, is the fact that the two of us have early release. Second is that he doesn't have a car (or a license). Finally third is that the one thing we seem to have in common is Sempai. She came to me on the second day of school this year and asked if I might be willing to drive a friend of hers home. He was cute. I accepted. Okay, my judgement isn't always the best, but for the record, I was pretty sure I could trust him since it was Sempai introducing us. He told me it was a one time thing, and when I said yes, he straight out hugged me. Now, I am so not used to that. I don't have that many guy friends, but the one thing that they all have learned (or just never tried) is that I don't do guy hugs. They make me feel so awkward, and I do that partly because I know for a fact that if I hug the guy I like, my face will go as red as my phone. So, hugs? I haven't gotten one from a guy for at least half a year. I was totally not expecting it. I'm also pretty sure that Caitlyn noticed my magically color changing face, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to reinforce her "must get Emily a boyfriend" behavior. Anyway, turns out Jacob lives just one neighborhood over from me, so he's basically on the way if I'm going home. It was a little awkward alone in the car with him (I don't talk a lot unless I know you, and he just didn't always have something to say), but at the same time it was kind of nice. Peaceful. He talked about how nice the weather was, and how he loved hanging out outside (Sempai had told me that he loved bunnies). He wasn't the lazy no-good freak I had made him out to be. He also isn't as dumb as must of his friends, which I know because he was in Sempai's AP Government class last year. Two days later, he shot me a text to ask if I could drive him home on a regular basis, because he hates "sitting around 8th period when [he] could just get a ride." I was perfectly okay with this, and I showed Caitlyn. We were sitting at our before-school table and she made all kinds of awww motions and gestures. I was disgusted (partly because yes he is cute, and partly because I feel like she wants me to get a boyfriend really badly (so she and I can double date) that I tihnk sometimes she sees signals that aren't there. So anyway, she was making the hand motions of "aww" and everything, and suddenly she says "maybe s=he's watching you to see when you text him back" and I get a bad feeling and I look around and he is sitting two tables away looking in my direction. I was like, "Caitlyn. You die now." I planned to say, if he asked later, that she was talking about her boyfriend at the time, but thankfully he never asked. I replied sure to his message. He's only got study hall for one Semester, and of course he has no problem with me staying on eighth period to get math help and stuff (I'm not doing the James thing all over again. I'm tired of being a slave). But I mean, the rides home now put a real positive spin on my day. He brings his brother with him, and sometimes someone else, and they all talk about subjects that I think are absolutely hilarious to listen to. Today they talked about Magic (the gathering), and the tournament they were going to play. Caitlyn also tells me he's an Anime kind of guy too. I swear, the guys Sempai finds... So he's great. He's fun to listen to. He's cute. He's super skinny (I could tell when he hugged me). Everyone at my morning table want me to date him. All of them. Well actually, Carrie was on my side, but everyone else. Geez. I mean, first of all, he's got some, ahem, bad habits. I'm not impressionable enough to pick them up or anything stupid like that, but I like talking to guys while they can still understand what I'm saying. Second, he's atheist. I feel like it wouldn't really affect my faith, but it would still be hard to deal with sometimes. I'm also pretty sure that he gets waaaay more intimate with his girlfriends than I care to go. But gawd, that doesn't make me crush on im any less or anything. I've started to daydream about him once or twice, which means I'm definitely in full-on crush mode (I can still count the number of guys I've daydreamed about on my fingers. There aren't that many of them). I just hope Caitlyn never finds out that i really do like him, because she'll never let me hear the end of it. SHe already wont, actually.
So I got super off topic there, I didn't plan on it. I really didn't. Oh well. It's just a weakness I guess.

Senior Year

First day of school; does it really decide the rest of the year?

First period was AP Calculus which, thankfully, I have with Alyssa. She sits in the front right corner, and I sit one to her left. I'm glad I have it with Alyssa, especially after not having math with anyone close to me last year. Mr. Huler seems like a nice guy, no matter what people say about him (he's dyslexic!). We took the first-day test that everyone has been getting told about since Algebra 2, and it was easy! I was the first one done, of course. I always am. In the rebric, it states that Mr. Huler requires us to come in on two days when we don't have school! How cool is that?
Second period was study hall with Mr. Payne. Maybe this is just me, but I don't really like Mr. Payne. His only job is as a study hall teacher, and he takes it way too seriously. He already had a seating chart arranged for us when we came in, and I sat, of course, in the middle of a bunch of over-talkative students that don't want to be in school. I had the class with Caitlyn, Ben, Joe, and Kaila, but I wasn't allowed to sit near any of them! I'm switching out of his class and into Mrs. Kiko's room during her Drawing 2 class starting tomorrow. Seriously looking forward to it.
Third period is Psychology with Miss Motts (excuse me, I mean Miss Mats). I love the class, I love the teacher (she reminds me of the computer geek from Warehouse 13). I cant wait to learn all that there is to learn, and she says that if we want she can tudor us starting 2nd semester to take the AP Psychology test! How awesome is that? The only real problem with this class is the people in it... Not only is there Luis (the freak from my Spanish 2 class), but I ended up sitting at a set of tables with Stephanie, who, I know from experience, will never. Shut. Up. I just hope that Miss Mats never thinks that I'm the one talking.
Fourth period is my lunch period again. Today I sat at a table with Alyssa, Caitlyn, Chrissie, and Sammy. It's an absolutely wonderful beautiful combination of friends, and I couldn't ask for more. I just hope to high heaven that none of them move tables.
Fifth period is painting 2, the most heavenly class of the year. Mrs. Kiko (I'm gonna call her mrs from now on because she really did get married!) knows all of us, we all know each other, and it just seems like such a perfect combination of people in this class! Our first assignment is to bring in our iPod (or mp3 player) and create a piece based on 30 seconds of a song. Unbelievably incredible, that's what this class is. Plus, Dareen will soon join us too, and everyone knows that no class is complete without Dareen!
Sixth period is AP Lit. Not really sure how I feel about this class. So far I don't really like it because, although I love Chrissy, Emily sits to my left and I just know that this will lead in bad directions. Plus, the rest of the class is the closest that Westerville Central comes to those bubbly airheads we all hear about. Also, in the back sits a certain Jacob Coate who always seems just a little too full of himself. Mrs. Cargin seems nice enough, but I can never seem to quite understand what she's trying to say, like today when we were supposed to e having a discussion and I wasn't sure what on. We'll see what direction this moves in.
Seventh period is Honors Physics with Mr. Hunt. Originally I was a little upset that I didn't get Mr. Alexander, but Mr. Hunt is actually pretty cool. He grew up as a missionary kid in Nigeria, and he seems like one of those guys that never quite grew up. We didn't actually do anything with physics today, instead we all wrote out a list of seven items and why they describe us. No one I'm good friends with is in the class, but I'm hoping to score a seat in the middle where I can ignore everyone else and just pay attention to schoolwork.
Eighth period was a study hall, and I went in to get my study hall teacher sign my sheet for early release. While she was doing so, she mentioned that I should just leave afterward, there's no reason for me to stay. So I went downstair to turn in the sheets at the office (with around 20 other people doing the same thing), and the lady working the office was obviously in a mood, because when the girl in front of me handed her the paper and asked if she could just leave, the woman said "No, why would you think that?" in a who do you think you are kind of voice. Seriously? I think I'm the girl about to hand you her early release papers so I can freaking leave. Thankfully, the tall guy in front of me happened to mention that his study hall teacher had just told him to leave after he turned in his papers, so the lady responded "well, if your teacher told you you can, then you can leave." These people have had too long a day. You can tell.

Mineshua Part 1

There is a town called Mineshua. This town is hard to get to, but once someone finds a way, they never want to leave. It's a busy town; hustling and bustling every day no matter what the weather. It's a small place, small enough that almost no one drives cars because no one needs to go all that far, and when they do they simply take the subway.
In a little corner of Mineshua, slightly off the well worn path that is the shopping district, is one of the most well hidden little houses in town. Stuck at the end of a well worn path, the house seems to have been pushed aside to make way for larger, grander houses that dot the land on either side. The little house is in perfectly plain view, yet looking in its direction, most would simply pass their gaze over it, small and insignificant as it is.
This house is the Portraiture House.

Her Perch

She chooses to perch in a park. Up high in a tree centuries older than herself, that's where she stays. Her perch is between two branches where she can sit and watch. Some days she might move trees, from an oak to an apple, or a maple to a birch. It doesn't really matter which tree she's in, as long as she is in the same park. It's her park, after all, she's claimed it as her own.
She watches people come and go, some with family, some with friends, some by themselves. Some come with pets, some come with lunches, and some come with any manner of things to entertain themselves; books, frisbees, bikes, phones, the list could go on forever. She's seen it all, of course. She watches them all as they come and go, some during the daytime, and some in the dead of night. No matter what time, she is watching.
Sometimes she is noticed. Most often by children their little eyes still able to accept what they see. Their parents, however, are a different story. No matter what the child shall say to try to convince them, few parents ever actually believe their children, or check for themselves what is really lurking in the treetops. Maybe they shall even catch a glimpse of her, but even then, few will acknowledge what they have seen, and even less will admit it to another.
Once in a while, she will be noticed by the older children, the ones who know not to go telling their parents. They will look up at her, their minds for only a second clear enough to really see her, to see what she is. But older children are far too soon becoming adults, and their minds are clouded with the same unbelief that the parents had, that she couldn't really be up there. It must be the heat, or a stunt of some kind. So they go back to what they were doing, believing that what they saw was not, in fact, what they really saw. Just a figment of a childish imagination.
Thus, she continues to watch. She watches people come and go, one after the other. She watches children come back to the park each day, the sames ones coming back frequently as children and decreasingly often as they grow older, yet she still watches.
As if she is waiting for something.

His Perch

His perch is up high. It's above a busy highway, on a streetlight that has never seemed to work. At times he moves his perch, to another streetlight or another highway, but up that high above all the cars in constant traffic, every highway starts to look the same.
Where he is, he is almost never noticed. Up above the traffic, above the smog and dust that the cars belch out, more and more by the minute, no one ever thinks to look up. Too concentrated on where they are going, no one takes the time to notice their surroundings, to notice he is there.
Everyone is too caught up in their own lives, in where they're going and how to get there. The passengers are too preoccupied in their own accessories, their ipods, their radios, their video games and their cellphones and whatever else they have piled into their cars to distract them from their lives. On and on they go, one after the other, never noticing what they are missing.
He, on the other hand, simply sits at his perch and watches. Watches car after car go by, every one of them ever restless, never content with where they are, always wanting to keep moving.
So he watches them.

Thunderstorm

Watch the rain wash down and wash the windows clean. Watch the rain wash down what was left of the light. Watch the rain wash down all my insecurities, wash the rain wash down the worries of my life.

/rhyme, *ahem*

Why is it that thunderstorms always seem to come at night or at dusk? Maybe it's just me, but... No, it's not just me. thunderstorms always come at night. Maybe they're nocturnal. Perhaps thunderstorms are asleep during the day, and their snoring results in light showers. Or maybe thunderstorms are in fact caused by some great legendary beast, nocturnal of course, that wakes up most often in the spring, stretches and unfurls wings the size of countries, and in taking off creates such huge gusts of wind that they whip the sea into the sky in such a way that thunderclouds are formed.
Or mayhaps I have been watching too much pokemon.

The roundabout point I am on my way to getting to, is that thunderstorms have a bit of a mystical air to them. They strike when it's dark outside, maybe so that no one can get a good look at what they really are, then rain down such a ferocious monsoon of water and sound that any bad feelings of the day are washed away. In their place are sparkling puddles beloved by little kids, and the occasional new spring flower. They bring the strong smell of wet blacktop and the happiness when parents see that mother nature decided to open up its springtime car wash.

I love thunderstorms.

Soul Silver

I am many things. To name a few, I am an artist, I am a daughter, I am a sister in Christ, I am a pirate. The list may go on for pages (theoretically speaking, of course, since I don't believe blogs really have pages). But when it comes to pokemon, I may be simply the biggest geek that anyone will ever come across. I have Red, Yellow, Gold, Silver, Crystal, Sapphire, Emerald, Fire Red (two, in fact), Leaf Green, Diamond, Pearl, Platinum, and of course all the minor games a well; Pokemon Pinball, Pokemon Pinball the Ruby/Sapphire version, Pokemon Dash, Pokemon Ranger, Pokemon Ranger; Shadows of Almia, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Blue Rescue Team, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Darkness, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Time, and of course no one can ever forget the game that I got with my first Nintendo DS, Pokemon Trozei. To be honest, I could probably go on for a couple more hours about all the pokemon merch I have stored up in my black hole of a room, but I guess it would color me impressed if anyone even got through the above list without at least stifling a yawn or two. The point is, pokemon is my secret passion, my post secret, and my eight-year-long mini-obsession.
It started back in fourth grade, in fact, thanks to a very lazy child by the name of Drew McDaniel (whom I can also blame for my love of anime, manga, and probably simply all things Japanese). Mrs. Beard was giving a lesson on economics the way an eight year old could understand it; by buying and selling the products ourselves. I don't remember exactly what I was selling, although I believe I was in a group with Alexandra and Amy, and I seem to remember that we didn't do so well. The point is, Drew, being the die-hard Pokemon fan that he was, had created a small package of three cards; Dark Vaporeon, Dark Flareon, and Dark Jolteon. The Flareon and the Jolteon were cute, yes, but that Vaporeon. That wonderful little water sprite of a Pokemon, with its big black eyes, funny little fins, and long shiney blue tail, that little creature had me hooked for a lifetime. To this day, my very favorite Pokemon from all of my Pokemon games is the Vaporeon on my Leaf Green which I nicknamed Jing (named after Jing, the king of bandits, of course). It wasn't long after that fourth grade economics assignment, I believe, that I got my very first Gameboy Advance, and along with it, my very first Pokemon game, my Pokemon Silver. This game has lasted through so much with me (even now it's right next to me, fitted neatly into my SP), I even went so far last summer as to replace the battery inside the cartridge once it could no longer save my game properly. It is because of this very game that I am excited about what is coming tomorrow. Yes that's right. Tomorrow. March fourteenth. It's finally here. Pokemon Heart Gold and Pokemon Soul Silver are coming. The remakes of the now ten year old games are just around the corner, and I can say with a clean conscience that I have never been so excited for anything Pokemon as I am right now. I've been scanning my Pokemon news sites at least twice a day, looking at the footage of the new games, the updates, the similarities, and of course the new Pokewalkers! I'm still not sure quite what they are, but I'm pretty sure they're going to be my favorite part of the new games. I've been reveling in the nostalgia that the games bring me back to. All those summers at that Buckeye summer camp, where all we did was sit around, play our Pokemon games, and trade the cards, those times in middle school where I would find random kids on the bus that would come prepared with the link cable and trade their Pokemon with me (I've been sure to keep all of them, too). It's amazing the memories I have associated with these games. The best part is, I know that these new games coming out will soon have similar memories and nostalgia associated with them. I know who my friends are. I know I'm not the only one who pre-ordered these games. I know I'm not alone. I cant wait.

Golden Fleecie Sheepie

Sheep are adorable. Seriously, there's no denying it. Whether they're cartoony or realistic or whatever else, sheep are the most huggable, squeezable, adorable animals ever created.
I've been reading the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series lately. In fact, I just started the second book today. Oh, and I also finished the second book today... Moving on.
The second book refers to an ancient Greek tale about the "golden fleece," which was the fleece of a golden ram that Poseidon had created for some reason I cant quite remember (but I do remember it involved the sheep flying and someone falling off its back and dying, oops). The whole time I was reading about the little sheep I was thinking oh, so cute so cute so cute! Until I read that when the sheep finished flying the other kid, Phrixus - the one that didn't drown - across the sea, Phrixus turned around and sacrificed the poor sheep to the sea god, Poseidon. To this I respond; What the heck is wrong with these stupid Greeks? First of all, why would they sacrifice to Poseidon something that Poseidon gave to them in the first place? It's like, "Oh, you gave me this birthday present? Well that's cool! Here, have this birthday present you just gave me, to show my thanks!" Why not just accept the gift and be done with it? Also, the guy Phrixus, after sacrificing the sheep, keeps its golden fleece for himself. So now he's killed the sheep to sacrifice to Poseidon, then he keeps the good part to himself, all the gold, which negates the point of sacrificing it. Plus, if he had never sacrificed the sheep, he would have more gold all the time, growing from the little sheepie, and then he could sacrifice the gold once in a while to Poseidon and keep some for himself and the sheep would get to live, for heaven's sake! I mean, the little guy was talking to Phrixus encouraging him their whole flight together and when they touch down, Phrixus goes, "Well that was nice, now I will kill you. Goodbye." Puh-leez! Those Ancient Greeks have no sense of hospitality.
I still love the sheep, though. It's adorable and cuddly (well, as cuddly as a sheep made of gold can be), and just all full of luviness.

The Life and Times of an Almost College Student

Well, not even almost, really. It's just a near/distant/future/never-to-be-realized dream at this point. Of course the colleges don't agree with me about that, because tonight I just spent about an hour opening mail from every college known to man, and a couple known to goldfish (for about three seconds, that is). It's exhausting and at times confusing work, since some colleges don't seem to really know where they are actually located. Example - University of Washington in St. Louis. But it's all good, really. And I'm starting to learn which colleges really want me, seeing as how Depaw has sent me two e-mails and three packages.
Then there's also poor Butler University. I could only read half their letter because my letter opener went homicidal and decided to rip straight through their letter and return envelope, but not the envelope it came in. Why, dear dear letter opener? Why?
In other news, throwing pennies at cats is apparently a good way to pass the time, so says my father.