A warning

Tomorrow is going to be the first day of my slowly encroaching death, my final day of death will be Nov. 30. Why? Because I am a world class idiot. Because starting in 50 min the clock starts ticking. The countdown until the end of NaNoWriMo has begun.

In reality that means that I will, most likely, not be posting anything this month. Not a damn thing. Between righting 50,000 words, a short story, a research paper, two newspaper articles every week, another research paper, about twenty late assignments for stats, and a side project helping friends edit their papers, oh and work... can't for get that, I am going to be swamped in November. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I am going to be a flaming bitch who is in likely hood going to develop caffeine allergies from the amount of coffee I will be consuming. On top of everything else that I am going to be doing I will also be making my Christmas presents, some paintings, scarfs and hats.

This next month is shaping up to be one of the busiest in my life and I planning on kicking ass. Or getting my ass kick. We'll see what happens.

Anyway the short of this post is to say that I will not be posting this next month in less some awesome freak event happens that must be shared... so I guess at some point I will be writing a something on here. I will also be posting a link to my other blog (yes I do have two blogs, Oh no!), the blog that is specifically for my stories. Be jealous.

Life is Hell

I have been having a few issues with my living arrangements, a friend made the mistake of asking me what I hated about it. Here is the list:

I want my own bathroom and kitchen, and I want to be able to control the god damn temperature in my room. I want windows that close on the first try and blinds that aren't nasty as shit. I want to be able to go to bed when I want without the fucking ra waking me up. I want a sink that is bigger than my ass. I want closer parker
parking. I want to be able to use any fucking door to exit that I feel like.
I want a room a that is bigger than a fucking storage unit. I want to be able to have a place to do homework where no one will interrupt me. I also want to be able to sleep with out being interrupted by assholes who think it is funny to blare their music in the parking lot at 1 o'clock in the fucking morning. I want to be able to paint my walls and have furniture that moves. I want to have my own room and I want to have my own writing studio. I want to make my own choices with health issues. I want internet that works. I want to live my life without a fucking dean breathing down my neck.

Basically every thing about the fucking dorm I am living in pisses me off. I hate it. I wake up every morning praying that I will have fallen into a coma while sleeping and am now over 22 so I can move out. I wake up hoping something tragic will happen that causes me to drop out of school until I am old enough to move "off campus" which is not off campus is fucking on campus housing, but no we can't call a dog a dog because then the school would actually have to let students live their own lives instead of living in the fucking bubble.

In my defense

My roommate has accused me of reading more than 100 books this semester. This is a lie, as such I am going to list all the books I've read since start of the school year.

1. Dead Witch Walking
2. The Good, the Bad, and the Undead
3. Every Which Way But Dead
4. A Fist Full of Charms
5. For a Few Demons More
6. Once Bitten, Twice Shy
7. Dhampire
8. The Atlantis Complex
9. Radiant Shadows
10. Sunshine
11. Once Bitten, Twice Shy
12. Chalice
13. The Blue Sword
14. Blood Price
15. The Outlaw Demon Wails
16. Blood Rites
17. Dead Beat
18. The Immortal... Or something like that, it was bad.


Short Story
1. A Study in Scarlet
2. Prom Dates From Hell

That is not any where near 100 books, it's not even a quarter of what she thought. Yes this post was entirely to vindicate myself.

Politics... what are those?

I wish I had listened in government class. The thought caught me cold this morning, never before have I wished to remember more about how my government is run. I honestly don't know much. I know that there are different parties and that those parties can hold a majority vote in the house/senate. I am not even sure that is right.

I feel like a sad excuse for an American. I pledge allegiance to a flag that represents our democracy and I don't even know how the fuck it works. I only know that most of the time it doesn't work right, because we are human and therefore screw-ups. I am supposed to write an article for my school newspaper about the people running... I don't know who is running much less what the fuck that even means. Epic fail.

I know more about the politics in my favorite book series than I do about my actual government. I could quote to you the different ways to kill a vampire or a hydra. I could tell you the best way to win a quest or the heart of your true love. But I can't explain the intricacies of the American government. I can explain historical governments, but ask me about popular culture or historical figures and I am out of the game. I have a vast area of useless knowledge at my finger tips. None of which is going to help me write this article as an informed journalist would.

Yay for bullshitting.

Cheese paste stuff

I was starving and wanted comfort food, and instead of macaroni I wanted crackers and cream cheese. Well the little corner story didn't have cream cheese. But they did have Joan of Arc: Brie, Soft Ripened Cheese, Double Creme.

Me, being the epitome of stupid, thought this was close enough to cream cheese to work... so not true. I should have realized from the epic failure of a box that it was going to end badly. It was a round box thing, it didn't close right from the get go and after opening it and taking out the plastic wrapped "goodness" it was definitely not going to close again.

Well the first few steps were odd I didn't think it was going all that bad. That was before I unwrapped the plastic covering the wheel of cheese. Under the wrapping was a weird white cardboardish surface. No tabs, to "cut here" lines. Just a solid white smoothish surface that resembled partially recycled paper. I pulled a little chunk off... there was soooo no way to peel that sucker off. One option down, I tried to pull more off and found that under the recycled cardboardish stuff was a hard chunk of cheese.

I am not a rocket scientist but even I realized that this particular substance was in no way shape of form a soft cheese. There was the distinct possibility of soft cheese under all of the protective cardboardiness hard stuff. I know this because the middle was squishy. Not squishy in the "rotten nastiness" sort of way, it was squishy in the "delectable fillings in a French pastry" sort of way.

Eventually after much sitting and staring and avoiding homework I decided the best way to get to the much anticipated smooth cheesyness was brute force. I was gonna tear that package open and show the bitch that designed the stupid contraption how a college student deals with things that piss them off late at night when they are hungry, angry and needing to simultaneously sleep and work.

It work. Broke in half like a charm. It was the darnedest thing. I finally had the cheese I wanted to spread on the crackers.

And it was fucking nasty. I was expecting smooth delicious fattening artery-clogging cream cheese. What I got was brie, which is not bad, it's just not cream cheese and should never be confused as such. I will never make that mistake again. Hopefully.

Comfort food

The last few days have been stressful. Hell the last few years have been stressful. College has kicked my posterior until all that is left is a bleeding chunk of raw flesh. A wonderful image to picture while eating. The more stressed I get the less I eat. It's not that I can't eat, just I forget. I don't realize I haven't eaten anything all day until my body protests by a gut wrenching pain that usually leaves me curled up in a ball dry heaving. It hasn't gotten that bad recently. Most people learn from their mistakes, I unfortunately have not learned from my past mistakes in this area.

Problem is that my body's need to eat reaction is extremely similar to my body's going to forcefully remove all food that's been eaten reaction. Meaning that I have to spend precious time figuring out if I need to eat or if I am sick. When I finally remember that I haven't eaten in more than 32 hours I am left gaging down nutrients, all the while wanting to project them across the room at record speed.

I have found a sort-of-remidy to prevent this unpleasant experience. Coffee! The one small problem is that it only works for a few hours... and in reality it makes things worse. Instead of just feeling like my stomach is becoming a morphias mass of imploding volcanic activity I also have the added pleasure of feeling like there is an earthquake when the caffeine gives me the jitters.

More NaNo stuff

I was reading a manga last night and found this page and couldn't help but apply it to my life and how I feel during NaNo. This is not my drawing, but I did change some of the words. Nor is it my scanlation. Basically I have no right to put this on my blog and if anyone wants me to take it down they can e-mail me and I will.

Enjoy.

Cars and bars

I parallel parked my car for the first time! Not only did I do that but I did it three times. What now? It was the first time I had ever attempted to parrallel park my car, and it was surprisingly easy, then again I have a tiny car. Super tiny. Not tiny like mini cooper tiny, but tiny like you will have no leg room in the back tiny.

This post has nothing to do with bars, but it rhymed with cars... stupid. Yes. But also badass... okay not really, but whatever.

I think I might have some strange disease, my hand itches like crazy. I really want to chop the stupid thing off so I can finally get some respite. Of course then I would have the horror of having a phantom itch for the rest of my life. Not something I am willing to live with. Plus I wouldn't be able to type... that would suck.

The NaNoWriMo Song

A dear friend of mine wrote this song parady and I thought it was to much fun and I that I must share it on my blog. So thank you my dear friend for creating such a wonderful mater piece.

To be sung to the tune of "Part of That World" from The Little Mermaid

Look at these words,
Aren't they just neat
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl,
The girl who writes all the things

Look at this page
Stories unfold
How many secrets can one sentence hold?
Looking around you would think:"She wrote everything!"

I've got widgets, and similies a-plenty
I've got run-ons and mixed metaphors
You want sub characters: I've got twenty!
But who cares! No big deal! I'll write more!

I'm ready to write all the things I write
I wanna see, wanna see my word count
Growing along with my... what's the word?
... Words!

Ready to write, ready to zoom,
Ready to stay all day in my room...
What could it be? Where will I be?
Writing more words!

What would I give, if I could type, straight from... my brain?
What would I give to spend a day away from my screen?

Bet you my friends don't understand,
They all think I'm off my rocker!
"NaNoWriMo, Oh my novel, Oh my handsssssssssssssssss!"

I'm ready have 50,000 words,
Ready to see all my friends and family,
Strolling around in the cool November... sun!
Ready to walk, ready to run
Ready to have my novel all done!

Crazy like me?
Wish you could be...
Part of my "world"?

Hello I am still here

I was talking to a few friends at the reception desk of my dorm when the following discussion ensued.

"I think you should dye your hair blond."

"No, she looks horrible blond. Brown is a much better color."

"No way. She looks like a little fairy when her hair is blond."

"Yeah but brown hair looks more natural and it brings out her eyes."

"But when her hair is short it looks better blond."

"Hmm... You're right. When her hair is short it looks cute blond."

Both turn and look at me.

"Dye your hair blond when it's short and dye it brown when it's long. Okay?"

I am not sure if I should find it funny or disturbing that my friends have arguments over my hair. I was a little perturbed that they had this conversation and basically ignored that I was standing there with them. It is nice that my friends care enough about my appearance to be able to argue over it... I guess. All in all I thought the exchange was amusing. I have gone to school with the girls since high school and they have watched me go through more hair colors and styles than most people do in their life times.

I have had my hair red, black, brown, blond, blue, purple, pink, mid-back, shoulder, cropped, ear-length and two-inches long in the last eight years. If I am going to be changing styles so often I probably shouldn't complain when friends pick favorites.

Almost anything goes

My school has a "game" night that creates unity by forcing the classes into mortal combat... Okay not really. But with they way some of my classmates acted last night I thought they were going to die if we lost. Not like that was possible.

I don't think we were ever not in the lead. I know we broke one school record, personally I think we broke two. My class was the first class in my schools history to win the game night all four years. Whoop-de-freaking-doo. We also took first place but for four events, in which we got second. By the last two events/games there was no possible way for us to lose.

Watching crazed college students in color coordinating outfits run around participating in stupid games was definitely worth the time I spent there. I can't remember all the games, but here is a run down of the basic logic defiying humiliation I went through for four years:

First event... maybe.

Imagine a two rows of senior college students facing each other. Now see them laying on a gym floor facing each other with about two feet between their faces. Then die laughing as they blow, yes blow, a ping pong ball down the line of people.

Second event

I always skip out on this event, unfortunately I was forced to participate at least once. The object of this trial is a big black inner tube. The success of the trial is running out to said inner tube holding hands with a classmate and then pulling the inner tube over your heads. Super awkward, but not the most awkward event of the night.

Third event... I have stopped even trying to remember the order.

Carrying M&M's, in a spoon, from one jar to another... not fun. Also another event I don't participate in.

Fourth event.

Blowing up a balloon while running from a corner of the gym to the middle while holding hands with a classmate, only to have said classmate sit on the balloon and pop it, once your in the middle. After the balloon is popped you run back to your corner of the gym to repeat the process.

Fifth event.

Tug 'a war. Does this need any more explanation?

Sixth event.

This event is a little awkward to explain. Basically there is a line of people on the floor and those people have to move a mattress back and fourth down the line with different people riding it... kinda like a magic carpet, but smelly and powered by people.

Seventh event.

A paper airplane folding extravaganza! Can you tell which event is my fav? I thinks so. The winner is the class that gets the most paper airplanes into a circle in five minutes. It's the only event where the gym stops becoming a mad cheering den and becomes a focused silent libraryesk experience.

There are also three other areas to score points: number of participants, decoration of corner, and class chant. I feel like I missing something, but it most not have been crucial if I didn't remember it. Speaking of people not remembering I am highly irritated at the personages in charge of this game night. They forgot to buy the ice cream, so during the ice cream break we got nothing. So aggravating.

But yes, my class created a first record. For our sake I hope someone other poor class with nothing better to do on a Saturday night soon joins the prestigious rank we have created.

On the weather

Last night a friend and I were discussing why the weather was want to change so drastically in such a sort amount of time. I told her how it was because the Fae courts were fighting and that in a few weeks Winter would win and we would all be freezing our arses off. This spawned a conversation about which legions were fighting and the likely hood that they would win soon.

My friend told me that she thought the Fae should just screw each other so as to keep a consistent temperature all year long. I am of the opinion that the weather changes would be more drastic if that was the case. If the weather is this bad when they are fighting imagine how bad it would be if they are having sex and aren't in control of their powers. It would be massive blizzards with random patches of over one hundred degrees.

She thought it would blend together nicely, but when dealing with the Fae it is best to assume worst case scenarios, since that is generally what happens.

I am not sure what is worse. The fact that we disagree or the fact that we argued and didn't find the topic strange... My life is so much fun sometimes.

Parents weekend

This weekend was an evil tease. I got to march in graduation regalia without actually getting my diploma. It was like a test run. You are graduating and we want to make sure you know it... Driving you insane is just a bonus. I hate people.

My parents came up (or down) to see me march. Which was a little ridiculous since they had to drive over 10 hours (each way) to see me for the grand total of one day, half of which was spend in church and then sleeping. So yeah. It was fun, I guess. I would have much preferred going home to my parents coming up, since now I will not be able to go home for my Mid-term break. Makes me irritable. I wanted to see my siblings (shocking) and my parents at home. Okay so mostly I just wanted to see the new puppy they got. It's super cute. It's a mix of German Sheppard and fence jumper. They don't know who daddy is.

We spend Saturday night at my friends house and my parents told all sorts of embarrassing stories. I was jealous because no one else's parents partook in the child jibing. Of course no one else's parents were present. So I decided to start telling stories about my best friend's fiancé. This lead to an interesting quote:

"Who needs a fiancé when you have your fiancée's best friend."

There are just so many things wrong with this situation. I can't even begin to explain the horror of the above comment being taken out of context. Since I was meaning why need a fiancé to tell embarrassing stories when her best friend is there to tell all the really bad ones. Not like that makes it sound better, just not as fucked up.

We played a kick ass game that night, Bang! Only one of the best simi-rpg card games out there. The game is super complicated, but these are the basic rules. Read that if you want it explained better.

Anyway at the very beginning of the game I killed off one of the players. Everyone got mad because he hadn't even had a turn to play. Which if you ask me just makes me awesome. But then we had a catch phrase for the rest of the day. Which was

"... Because Michelle is a jerk."

Everyone started using that at the end of a comment. So if they were going to shoot another player it was "Because Michelle is a jerk." Basically everything was my fault. Stupid people must not realize how real life works.

The weekend was lots of fun, but it was also extremely tiring. I want a week long vacation were I don't have to do anything.

TGIF: Awkward moments

Chunks of rock littered the yard making walking difficult. The weather had worn rivets in the stone slabs making the scratches unintelligibly and a lazy grounds keeper had let grass clippings cover the flat stones.

For those of you who didn't already realize it, I visited a graveyard today. Why? Well I have been meaning to pay my respects for a few friends and have never managed to make it out to their respective burial sites. I thought it would still be okay if I found a tombstone with the same name (only the same first name) and left flowers there. Unfortunately after trapezing around trying not to wake on someones grave I gave up. I couldn't find a single matching name. Instead of that I went and found the most unkempt graves and left a flower. I figured the people are probably so old that no one is alive who can take care of their graves, so they won't mind if a stranger leaves a flower. Right?

I hope they don't mind. I always get upset when I see a tombstone that can no longer be read. I can't express in words why it bothers me, it just does. So the least I can do for those people is to leave a small memento to the time they spent on earth.

It was much more awkward than I thought it would be to go to a graveyard. This was my second time visiting one and even though it was late afternoon and the sun was shining, the entire area gave this creepy vibe.

Anyway. I was going to talk about my second awkward moment of the day. My roommates family can to visit for the weekend (It's parents weekend at my school, which is, as the name implies, a weekend where parents come up and visit) and decided they wanted to see the room. I was in the middle of doing laundry. I had clothes hanging from my ceiling light. Not any bras, but still awkward. Plus I was wearing pajama capris and haven't shaved... in a while. You get the picture. It was not my most sterling moment.

So TGIF, because if this was any other day I would have to shoot myself. Oh and I have to march in my robe tomorrow. Not excited. Although I am pissed I don't get to wear my hood. I mean who makes college graduates wear their robes and not their hoods. Not that I wanted to wear the hood... It's just that I was forcing myself to get psyched about wearing one, and now we're not. It messes with my mental stability.