I fell off my horse today. Now let me get one thing straight: when it comes to NOT falling off, I am a freaking ninja. No matter how I'm unseated, I can usually get back in the saddle and get the horse to stop without ever touching the ground. But with James, my technique is thrown way off, because if you DON'T fall off right away, he gets scared. And when he gets scared, he bolts.
So we were heading for a jump today, and he refused and ducked left, which got me mostly out of the saddle. I was on his neck, clinging, as he turned around and took off. I was almost back in the saddle, and if he hadn't bolted, I would have been fine. But off I went. And our arena is sand. I had sand in places I didn't know existed. Hell, I was a walking desert. It was in my EARS. And I didn't even land on my face! But I survived, more or less in one piece. (One piece of what?) I will now have a rather nasty bruise on my leg that promises to be several shades of the rainbow within the week.
So here's my secret to staying on: you have to be THAT afraid of hitting the ground.
I really considered murdering my biology teacher today. She gave us a list of fifty terms and fifteen short answer questions, due Tuesday. And I'm thinking, Lady, this is an honors class. I'm taking two AP classes, and you think I have time to do this nonsense? I have about five chapters of the Scarlet Letter to annotate, an ID list for APUSH plus at least two essays to outline, I have to start reading Founding Brothers, and start studying for my Pre-calc test. And on top of that, I have an away horse show Saturday and Sunday. Really Ms. Hauck, really? Besides, it's not like there's a single thing on that paper I don't know. I could have tested out of that class, I swear. But no-o, you have to take biology in order to take Psychology or Forensics. Ridiculous.
Tonight was open house at school, AKA parent's invade your space night. I hate that I have to go with them, to babysit and make sure they don't ask my teachers anything I don't want them too, and make sure they don't get lost. I got to see my English teacher from last year, the fabulous and amazing Mrs. Drisgill. I love her. Love her, love her. Unfortunately I couldn't chat because she was dealing with parents, but we (Sarah and I) did wave and stand around awkwardly in her room for a while. Her class just finished up their mythology unit. Now you see why I love this woman? Also because she will freely call you an ass if she believes you to be one. And she has a giant fish on top of her bookcases. His name is Finly. I hope I can be as cool of a teacher as that.
I have done a bad thing, and pulled out Patroclus and Achilles for NaNo practice. Yes, I do meant that sort of NaNo practice. And yes, Patroclus and Achilles were cousins and yes, they were also lovers. Isn't that fun? I finished the short...scene? story? thing? where Patroclus was dead. Now I'm writing a different little snip. One where they argue and make love. How utterly cliche. But I don't care, because it's simply practice. Practice doesn't have to have plot. Practice is allowed to be gooey and cliche. As Ernest Hemingway said, the first draft of everything is shit.
23 days until doom/madness. 23 to practice. Eh, I've got time.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Thing I've Learned #21: Art For Art's Sake Does Wonderful Things To You
Yesterday I checked the NaNoWriMo website and renewed my information. NOW I'm excited. Beyond excited! Still scared, but EXCITED. November, come faster! Whoa. That's what he said. x3
On the subject of art, Sarah and I went to art club today, since we have no room in our schedules to take an actual art class. We got to play with clay! I love clay! We made jack-o-lanterns! Mine was scary. I gave it fangs instead of cute square teeth. RAWR NOM NOM NOM.
Today was a fairly boring day. We got new seats in Chinese. I re-established the fact it is weird to write from the perspective of a dead person watching their own funeral. It is also not normal to use the words "folly" or "doom" seriously in writing.
24 days until said doom. COME, BITCH, COME. Whoa.
On the subject of art, Sarah and I went to art club today, since we have no room in our schedules to take an actual art class. We got to play with clay! I love clay! We made jack-o-lanterns! Mine was scary. I gave it fangs instead of cute square teeth. RAWR NOM NOM NOM.
Today was a fairly boring day. We got new seats in Chinese. I re-established the fact it is weird to write from the perspective of a dead person watching their own funeral. It is also not normal to use the words "folly" or "doom" seriously in writing.
24 days until said doom. COME, BITCH, COME. Whoa.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Thing I've Learned #20: Coins From Iceland Have Fish On Them
I thought this was particularly exciting. Today in Chinese we learned how to talk about exchanging money. Like, how to ask for the exchange rate and say how much money you wanted. Einstein and I got to talking about foreign money, how the British pound is fatter than the American dollar, how there's 1000 yen coins, which is like a ten dollar coin...silly stuff like that. And then he mentioned that there were fish on Icelandic coins. Stuff like sardines and crabs. I have never been more excited over money in my life. Or more determined to go somewhere.
I really meant to practice writing snark for NaNo today, I really did. I have a story about Polydeuces and Castor that's been sitting around since August, waiting to be finished. I was going to work on it, honest! But...on my way to sixth period Patroclus stood up and started narrating. What's a writer to do but write what she is given? So write I did, though not what originally intended. And let me tell you, this piece is the weirdest thing ever, considering Patroclus is dead for most of the story. And yet still manages to tell it. It's kind of surreal, at least for me. Perhaps, when I finish the segment I started, I'll put it up for you to read?
In other (bad) news, I went to the dentist today. And now my teeth ache. Not fun not fun not fun. I had the weirdest deja vu when I was there. Mom and I both had appointments, and she went first. I was writing with my iPod on while I was waiting, and I had remembered sitting in the exact same spot, writing and listening to my iPod, two years ago. It was kind of freaky.
Due to the fact that I did not write what I was supposed to, I am now worrying about November more than ever. It's not even the deed that I'm nervous about writing so much as the emotion. These characters...they're really passionate. They love so fiercely, care so deeply, and yet...because of who they are, what they are, sex itself is nothing to them. I'm afraid I won't be able to get that across the way I need to. Let's take Marce and Bailey for example, (mostly because I just want to talk about them) another one of the three couples in my NaNo. Marce the angry redhead and Bailey the fragile china doll. Marce is all sharp angles and bad attitude, and Bailey might as well be a mouse. A crybaby mouse. Marce has always looked after the sensitive, younger Bailey. Bailey sees the softy behind Marce's swear words, and is generally the only one who can calm him down when he's pissed. Or cranky. Which is often. Yet another odd, opposite couple. I'm seeing a theme here. Anyway, while they care for each other far beyond friendship, neither of them believes in "love" because of the lifestyle they're forced to live. Hence, while they are (whether they themselves admit it or not) in love, sex means nothing. Plus, it's not like sex is anything new in their relationship. The guys at the Phoenix sleep with each other all the time, simply for the purpose of "let me show you what I learned" or "teach me how to do this." No emotion is involved. Which is where I am frightened. How do you write something so profound with the nonchalance of talking about the weather? I shall learn. I have no choice.
Wow. That was a rant. Sorry guys. Marce and Bailey are generally my favorites. They're so opposite, and it never ceases to amaze me how they rub off on each other.
25 days until madness. Oddly, I can't wait.
I really meant to practice writing snark for NaNo today, I really did. I have a story about Polydeuces and Castor that's been sitting around since August, waiting to be finished. I was going to work on it, honest! But...on my way to sixth period Patroclus stood up and started narrating. What's a writer to do but write what she is given? So write I did, though not what originally intended. And let me tell you, this piece is the weirdest thing ever, considering Patroclus is dead for most of the story. And yet still manages to tell it. It's kind of surreal, at least for me. Perhaps, when I finish the segment I started, I'll put it up for you to read?
In other (bad) news, I went to the dentist today. And now my teeth ache. Not fun not fun not fun. I had the weirdest deja vu when I was there. Mom and I both had appointments, and she went first. I was writing with my iPod on while I was waiting, and I had remembered sitting in the exact same spot, writing and listening to my iPod, two years ago. It was kind of freaky.
Due to the fact that I did not write what I was supposed to, I am now worrying about November more than ever. It's not even the deed that I'm nervous about writing so much as the emotion. These characters...they're really passionate. They love so fiercely, care so deeply, and yet...because of who they are, what they are, sex itself is nothing to them. I'm afraid I won't be able to get that across the way I need to. Let's take Marce and Bailey for example, (mostly because I just want to talk about them) another one of the three couples in my NaNo. Marce the angry redhead and Bailey the fragile china doll. Marce is all sharp angles and bad attitude, and Bailey might as well be a mouse. A crybaby mouse. Marce has always looked after the sensitive, younger Bailey. Bailey sees the softy behind Marce's swear words, and is generally the only one who can calm him down when he's pissed. Or cranky. Which is often. Yet another odd, opposite couple. I'm seeing a theme here. Anyway, while they care for each other far beyond friendship, neither of them believes in "love" because of the lifestyle they're forced to live. Hence, while they are (whether they themselves admit it or not) in love, sex means nothing. Plus, it's not like sex is anything new in their relationship. The guys at the Phoenix sleep with each other all the time, simply for the purpose of "let me show you what I learned" or "teach me how to do this." No emotion is involved. Which is where I am frightened. How do you write something so profound with the nonchalance of talking about the weather? I shall learn. I have no choice.
Wow. That was a rant. Sorry guys. Marce and Bailey are generally my favorites. They're so opposite, and it never ceases to amaze me how they rub off on each other.
25 days until madness. Oddly, I can't wait.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Thing I've Learned #19: Never Go Grocery Shopping When You're Hungry
Mom and I went to Target to get my glasses fixed today. Unfortunately, we were also both starving. We got so much food...oh man. It was great. Like, an entire freaking cart full. We just walked through the aisles and were like, "Hmm, this looks yummy" and tossed it in the cart. We were walking through the frozen foods, and I was around the corner looking at the seafood when I hear my mom say "Hey, do you want Star Trek waffles?" I was like, "WHAT?! OHMIGOD!" and bolted around the corner to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, there were waffles with imprints of Kirk and Spock on them. Mom and I dubbed them Spoffles. We bought some. I don't even like waffles. We also got macaroni and cheese in Pokemon shapes. I love shopping with my mom.
Last night, and by extension today, I have been worrying about the sheer volume of sex in my NaNo. I mean, the entire plot is based around a brothel. Oh, I am so doomed. On the bright side, when this is all over with, I will be able to make a living writing smutty, plotless romance novels. Not that I would resort to such a lowly use of my craft, but it's nice to know it's an option. Because it's hard to make a living as an author. You know what the difference between a writer and a park bench is? A park bench can support an entire family.
So Sarah said I should practice before November. Practice with what?! I daren't start another story. Bad, bad things will happen if I dig out Patroclus and Achilles. And my twins are not cooperating. And Cesare and Chiaro are just being mean. Chiaro winks and sips wine and Cesare smirks. Pout pout. What's a poor little writer to do? Ah me. At least my dear twins will be back soon. Polydeuces and Castor, brothers of Helen of Troy, Gemini, my twin muses and favorite subjects. In short, another historical rant just waiting to happen. In another month, Gemini will rise and hopefully my inspiration along with it.
I find it amusing and not a little ironic that my muses return in November. Coincidence? I think not.
As is I haven't written in ages, and Sarah suggests I beat them into submission. I agree. Not that submission is in their vocabulary. They are Spartans, you know.
26 days until doom.
Last night, and by extension today, I have been worrying about the sheer volume of sex in my NaNo. I mean, the entire plot is based around a brothel. Oh, I am so doomed. On the bright side, when this is all over with, I will be able to make a living writing smutty, plotless romance novels. Not that I would resort to such a lowly use of my craft, but it's nice to know it's an option. Because it's hard to make a living as an author. You know what the difference between a writer and a park bench is? A park bench can support an entire family.
So Sarah said I should practice before November. Practice with what?! I daren't start another story. Bad, bad things will happen if I dig out Patroclus and Achilles. And my twins are not cooperating. And Cesare and Chiaro are just being mean. Chiaro winks and sips wine and Cesare smirks. Pout pout. What's a poor little writer to do? Ah me. At least my dear twins will be back soon. Polydeuces and Castor, brothers of Helen of Troy, Gemini, my twin muses and favorite subjects. In short, another historical rant just waiting to happen. In another month, Gemini will rise and hopefully my inspiration along with it.
I find it amusing and not a little ironic that my muses return in November. Coincidence? I think not.
As is I haven't written in ages, and Sarah suggests I beat them into submission. I agree. Not that submission is in their vocabulary. They are Spartans, you know.
26 days until doom.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Thing I've Learned #18: Putting On Jeans After a Summer of Shorts is an Adventure
So I put on my nice pair of jeans today to go to a play and I was like "Oof! These shrunk!" Don't you love when that happens? I tend to forget that jeans shrink when you wash them. I tend to forget a lot of things, actually.
The play we went to see was Agamemnon. NERD NERD NERD. It was pretty awesome. I am totally going to have a cat named Agamemnon. He's going to be a cranky gray tabby tom, I just know it. And we shall call him Aggie. Next month we're going to see Medea. The story happens to be a favorite of mine. For those of you that don't know: Jason, as in Jason and the Argonauts, is married to Medea. Medea is a priestess of Hecate. Hecate is the goddess of magic and dark and things that go bump in the night. AKA bad. So Jason, Prince of Arrogance and some city I can't remember, decides to marry some other chick because Medea is psycho. Medea, in anger and jealousy, murders their children.
Isn't that a lovely story? I just love Greek tragedy. It reminds you that someones life sucks worse than yours.
I'm so glad it's finally October. On the way back from the play, Sarah, EB, and I all talked novels. Which got me really excited for November. I've been in love with DeLacey and Kit recently, which are one of the three couples in my novel. Kit is one of the boys at the Blue Phoenix which is, if I haven't mentioned, a brothel. 17, curly black hair, gray eyes, and a sort of acrobat. And DeLacey is a rather mysterious nobleman. 25, auburn hair that leans more towards brown, hazel eyes, and an unintentionally cruel sense of humor. Quite the odd couple. But I love them. I love them all. -mad cackle-
So the countdown begins. 27 days until madness. Madness cannot come soon enough.
The play we went to see was Agamemnon. NERD NERD NERD. It was pretty awesome. I am totally going to have a cat named Agamemnon. He's going to be a cranky gray tabby tom, I just know it. And we shall call him Aggie. Next month we're going to see Medea. The story happens to be a favorite of mine. For those of you that don't know: Jason, as in Jason and the Argonauts, is married to Medea. Medea is a priestess of Hecate. Hecate is the goddess of magic and dark and things that go bump in the night. AKA bad. So Jason, Prince of Arrogance and some city I can't remember, decides to marry some other chick because Medea is psycho. Medea, in anger and jealousy, murders their children.
Isn't that a lovely story? I just love Greek tragedy. It reminds you that someones life sucks worse than yours.
I'm so glad it's finally October. On the way back from the play, Sarah, EB, and I all talked novels. Which got me really excited for November. I've been in love with DeLacey and Kit recently, which are one of the three couples in my novel. Kit is one of the boys at the Blue Phoenix which is, if I haven't mentioned, a brothel. 17, curly black hair, gray eyes, and a sort of acrobat. And DeLacey is a rather mysterious nobleman. 25, auburn hair that leans more towards brown, hazel eyes, and an unintentionally cruel sense of humor. Quite the odd couple. But I love them. I love them all. -mad cackle-
So the countdown begins. 27 days until madness. Madness cannot come soon enough.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Thing I've Learned #17: Doing Nothing Is Hard Work
I was awakened rather rudely at 7:30 AM by a killer leg cramp. Dude, Saturday, not. cool. I probably would have woken up then anyway, due to the fact that my internal clock SUCKS. But I stayed in bed for...oh, another three or four hours. And when my back started to hurt from lying funny, I sat up and read. Oh, how nice it is to be able to read what I want, and not what I have to. Only for today, however, because I've got freakin' Scarlet Letter, and after that, Founding Brothers. Yuck. I have at least eight other books I would SO much rather be reading.
Then I had chips and salsa for breakfast and watched Warehouse 13 the rest of the day. Well, for five hours. At least. I was really, really behind, because the season ended like, two weeks ago and I still had nine episodes on my DVR. I only have three left now. And one of them is a repeat. I love doing nothing all day!
We did go to the barn, though. Caught the end of EB's lesson on GLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Who is the cutest horse ever. You know the movie Spirit? He looks like Spirit. Then we painted James. Mom and I went to the tack store yesterday and bought a bunch of stuff. We're going to a horse show next weekend, so we got a new bridle, new helmet, and a new saddle pad. Oh, and paint. It's like horsey face paint. So EB and I painted green and blue lightning bolts on James' butt and I painted a blue exclamation point on his face. Now he's uber awesome.
We (meaning mom, EB, EB's mom, Sarah, and I) went to see Fame last night, and it was pretty awesome. Kind of choppy, but generally awesome. I love going to see movies with my friends. It's like a mini girl's night out.
And now I have to do APUSH homework. Yuck.
A final thought: "What, use only in case of stupid?!"
Then I had chips and salsa for breakfast and watched Warehouse 13 the rest of the day. Well, for five hours. At least. I was really, really behind, because the season ended like, two weeks ago and I still had nine episodes on my DVR. I only have three left now. And one of them is a repeat. I love doing nothing all day!
We did go to the barn, though. Caught the end of EB's lesson on GLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Who is the cutest horse ever. You know the movie Spirit? He looks like Spirit. Then we painted James. Mom and I went to the tack store yesterday and bought a bunch of stuff. We're going to a horse show next weekend, so we got a new bridle, new helmet, and a new saddle pad. Oh, and paint. It's like horsey face paint. So EB and I painted green and blue lightning bolts on James' butt and I painted a blue exclamation point on his face. Now he's uber awesome.
We (meaning mom, EB, EB's mom, Sarah, and I) went to see Fame last night, and it was pretty awesome. Kind of choppy, but generally awesome. I love going to see movies with my friends. It's like a mini girl's night out.
And now I have to do APUSH homework. Yuck.
A final thought: "What, use only in case of stupid?!"
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Thing I've Learned #16: Two Gallons of Milk Are Better Than One
Absolutely nothing significant happened to me today. My parents are now at the grocery store, buying milk, because my mother decided recently that we only needed one gallon of milk at a time. Oh, how wrong she was...how wrong she was.
I drove home from the barn yet again. And thus decided I don't like driving in traffic. It is not fun. And for the record: DRIVER PICKS THE MUSIC, SHOTGUN SHUTS HER CAKEHOLE. Mother.
Speaking of barn, lesson was awesome today. James was awesome today. Kate (that's my instructor and the barn owner. I can't remember if I said that already. My memory is going and I'm only a teenager!) attempted to ruin James' life by putting poles in front of jumps so he had to trot them before jumping the jump. He was not pleased. But he was very brave. I'm proud. He also has a new admirer in the form of a girl that was getting ready for a lesson while I was putting him away. She adored him, and kept petting him and hugging him, and, much to his delight, feeding him. SCORE. James needs to be a little girl's pony. This is precisely why I am training him.
I brought "The Prince" to school today, and received many eye rolls from my friends, who give me a look if I so much as mention Machiavelli. Not that they aren't nerds too, they're just a little sick of hearing about him. I unfortunately had no time to read it, though, due to my freaking ANNOTATING. I hate annotating. And I hate the Scarlet Letter. Archaic English is fine if it's Shakespeare or Machiavelli, (not that Machiavelli wrote in English, but let's just keep this up for the sake of discussion) but not if it's Hawthorne. God no. Depressed, irritating man.
As a side note, I have been listening to Latin choral music all day. Yep, I'm a music nerd too. But I have a legitimate excuse! The song, Tota Pulchra Es, we learned part of in choir, and I, liking the song, looked it up on iTunes, and found a version of it free. Thus, I have been listening to it ever since. Nerd nerd nerd nerd nerd.
My parents are back. I want a glass of milk.
I drove home from the barn yet again. And thus decided I don't like driving in traffic. It is not fun. And for the record: DRIVER PICKS THE MUSIC, SHOTGUN SHUTS HER CAKEHOLE. Mother.
Speaking of barn, lesson was awesome today. James was awesome today. Kate (that's my instructor and the barn owner. I can't remember if I said that already. My memory is going and I'm only a teenager!) attempted to ruin James' life by putting poles in front of jumps so he had to trot them before jumping the jump. He was not pleased. But he was very brave. I'm proud. He also has a new admirer in the form of a girl that was getting ready for a lesson while I was putting him away. She adored him, and kept petting him and hugging him, and, much to his delight, feeding him. SCORE. James needs to be a little girl's pony. This is precisely why I am training him.
I brought "The Prince" to school today, and received many eye rolls from my friends, who give me a look if I so much as mention Machiavelli. Not that they aren't nerds too, they're just a little sick of hearing about him. I unfortunately had no time to read it, though, due to my freaking ANNOTATING. I hate annotating. And I hate the Scarlet Letter. Archaic English is fine if it's Shakespeare or Machiavelli, (not that Machiavelli wrote in English, but let's just keep this up for the sake of discussion) but not if it's Hawthorne. God no. Depressed, irritating man.
As a side note, I have been listening to Latin choral music all day. Yep, I'm a music nerd too. But I have a legitimate excuse! The song, Tota Pulchra Es, we learned part of in choir, and I, liking the song, looked it up on iTunes, and found a version of it free. Thus, I have been listening to it ever since. Nerd nerd nerd nerd nerd.
My parents are back. I want a glass of milk.
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