No point.

I feel like I should post something on here just to keep the blog alive and well, though I don't have much to say. Again.

Except maybe that I'm trying to digitally color a drawing I did and I get the feeling it's going to fail miserably... ah, well. Everyone has to start somewhere, and that "somewhere" is the Land of Failure and Suckishness.

Thankfully, people improve. (Erm, hopefully.) Even I, the worst artist ever (a combination of laziness, busyness, and general lack of talent is never good), have actually IMPROVED over time. Amazing, I know, but it's true. I look at stuff I uploaded to deviantART almost a year ago and cringe at the horror. I'm tempted to take it down and pretend it never happened, but I think it serves as a nice testament to some semblance of artistic improvement. Or something.

***

Sometimes this blog feels like one giant, raging, bubbling cesspool of narcissism. Who cares about what I think? Who cares about what I write? Who cares about the random, mundane, finer points of my life?

Maybe it's because I want to better myself as a writer, improve my (negligible) skill with words, et cetera. But what am I talking about? Myself. Nothing of global importance or national importance or anyone-that-isn't-me importance. I just keep rambling and rambling and expect people to read this and actually care.

How many pronouns have I used that are "I," "me," "my," or "mine"? Too many.

I expect someday I'll catch sight of my reflection in a nice, clear pool in the forest, and I'll fall madly in love with myself and eventually be turned into a flower by sympathetic higher forces.

In which the blogger brags about her amazing friends

Because, you know, they're completely and utterly awesome. Seriously, did funnier people ever exist? I think not.

And also, they give really good hugs.

But even if funnier people did exist, I bet they didn't make math jokes - 

"Okay, guys, let's be rational-"
"No! Never! We are not rational! We are irrational! We are PI!!"

- or come up with such eloquent answers to scientific questions -

"How have you increased the entropy of the universe today? Walking, eating, breathing-"
"BLINKING!"

- or made such a declaration as... um. I'm not really sure how to describe this.

"Today is not yesterday. Today is TODAY."

Yes, we are AP students. I promise.

In which the blogger has nothing to say

...beyond the topic of procrastination.

O, Procrastination. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I'm procrastinating on my massive twenty-percent-of-my-grade theology paper, procrastinating on writing my book, procrastinating on coloring that Tangled doodle I did last night, procrastinating on asking my friend who he went to Sadie's with everything about life except maybe reading A Tale of Two Cities...

OH. OH. SEE, I DO HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT.

Oh my goodness, I hit the local Borders last night (they're closing! AAAAAGGGHHHHH) and I wanted to get Tale of Two Cities and Sense and Sensibility (or Pride and Prejudice, or both). I ended up getting the TRON: Betrayal graphic novel (which is amazing), A Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations, which was paired with it.

They had seven copies of Great Expectations and ZERO of A Tale of Two Cities. How messed up is that?

But anyway, I read the cover flaps for both, and Great Expectations sounded better... but I was told that TOTC was amazing and besides, that was my entire reason for getting the mega-book, so I started reading that first.

It's divided into three parts - Book the First, Second, and Third - and Book the First was blekjalskjglkawsjgtBORING. I SparkNote'd the summary because I had no idea what I was reading.

And then I got to Book the Second.


And then Sydney Carton came in, who is the sexiest fictional drunk to ever grace the literary world absolutely amazing.


...


AHHHHHHHHHHHHH MUST KEEP READING. I got so bored when it switched to Monsieur Whatshisface and Charles Darnay, dirty little spy. GO BACK TO FRANCE AND STAY THERE. And stop jacking up my Sydney Carton scenes.

That's all for now. Need moar Sydney.

AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH

I must rant. I give you two options, readers:

A) Run away now, or
B) Stay and listen to seemingly obscure complaints that only writers would understand (maybe)

Anyone up for choice A? Yes? No? Mayhap? Your time is now. I'll wait.

...

...

...

You've had enough. RANTING TIME.

So at the end of theology a day or two ago, we had ten minutes to do Whatever We Wanted (Not Including Killing Each Other With a Desk and a Pencil), so I grabbed a random sheet of paper and started noveling, as I am wont to do whenever there's spare time at the end of class (or if the lesson is particularly easy and/or boring, because then I just write during class anyway).

I had the beginning of an idea for a bit near the end of my book, after the climax and after they returned to a hero's welcome and what-have-you, and up until then I hadn't had any ideas for that part at all, so I was considerably excited (being a writing nerd and all).

All was well until I glanced over and realized that THIS GUY WHO SITS NEXT TO ME WAS READING OVER MY SHOULDER AAAGGGHOAJSHRG JAJER;A OAEKRJ GOAOR.

AAAARRRGGGHHHH I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS. It didn't help that he was actually quite attractive, either. Whenever people do that, I always get paranoid and crazily self-conscious about whatever I'm writing. Formal essays are fine, emails are a little awkward but still okay, comments I post on SparkLife and things are a little weirder but I guess it's fine, but original fiction? HNNGBLARGEKNAKJ LA;ASKJDDDD.

So I just started writing more and more messily until it was entirely illegible, and then I stopped altogether under the guise of checking the time (the clock is in the back of the room).

I hope he doesn't think I'm completely insane. He makes a good partner when our teacher tells us to get into little groups, because he does the work and actually qualifies as a Decent and Friendly Human Being (because everyone else is either a jerk, an idiot, or paired off).

Ack.

Oh.

I think maybe I lost all my blog followers because I didn't post anything for like a MONTH out of sheer laziness/forgetfulness.

Also, I almost just spelled "forgetfulness" wrong.

WHY IS MY LIFE BECOMING SUCH A FAILURE?

--

In other news...there is no other news. The most exciting thing that's happened in a week is the re-discovery of my carrot hat, which I wore for Halloween when I was four years old.

Yes. I was a giant carrot. A giant, adorable carrot. You know you love it.

--

I decided to write five thousand words a week of my book until it's finished. That...probably won't happen, considering I'm supposed to get through seven hundred words today and it's 7:30 and I have written ZERO. Because I'm lazy. And tired. And I had a chem test today so that automatically excuses me from everything else.

Yeah.

To make up for the lack of content in this post, I shall now feature a picture of a dog that looks like the dog I used to have (except my dog was way, way cuter, I swear).

YES I AM ADORABLE LOOK AT MY FACE AND BAWWWWW.

 Actually, I'm pretty sure I have a real picture of her (taken with Photo Booth, but whatever). Maybe I'll try to find that one...

EDIT: YES I FOUND IT.

AHHHHH THE CUTENESS BURNS

YES SHE IS COMPLETELY ADORABLE. It's not a very good pic, considering the blurriness and general overall lameness, but still.

I miss that dog.

OH HO HO.

I think I have an idea for a SparkLife column. >:D