Implausible notes

Well, it's the second day of my month of daily writing... (let's pretend September started on the 2nd, shall we?) so here is a second snippet of my brain.

Daily Drabble #2

Annette, the young turtle of Johannes's dreams, sunned herself elegantly on a rock, every so often breaking her stillness with the slight twitch of an eyelid. Not quite a wink, Johannes thought, but then again, perhaps not not a wink, either. Each time the tiny movement occured, it triggered a considerably  larger flutter in the depths of his belly, as though the grasses he munched were populated with energetic flies. 

Suddenly, Annette opened her eyes -not merely a flutter- and let out a ladylike turtley gurgle as she slipped gracefully into the water below. Johannes almost fell off his muddy log in shock. Annette was gone! Ah, well, he thought. Maybe next time she will gurgle...at me.

<3

 So I'm taking an intro to imaginative writing: fiction class in October (when my first term of college officially begins, OMG, insert young inexperienced joy here) and I thought that for the month of September I would make an attempt at a daily 100-word (or more if I'm feeling ambitious/crazy) drabble of something. Having mostly abandoned this journal long ago, I'm pretty sure no one's going to be reading it- or if they are, they're not going to be paying attention, so lj=writing sandbox for me now. 

so... DAILY DRABBLE #1

She had suspected for some time now that she felt at home only in impermanance. After living out of a suitcase between places for five years, she realized she could only become comfortable in a bedroom in which the plum-colored plastic suitcase lay quietly in the corner, openmouthed, overwhelmed by the clothes spilling out of it and the dresser stood empty and ignored. So when she got this great new bedroom where she planned to live for the entire year, packed away the suitcase in the storage shed at the back of the yard, and flopped down on her newly made bed in the perfectly ordered room, she felt a twitch of nervousness. 

The banana box currently sitting under the mirror labeled "bedroom- misc." wasn't going anywhere, she decided. She needed something to make her feel at home.

 So, it's been about six months since I last posted. Why? no idea, really. a lot has happened since then, though. Conor and I celebrated our 6 month anniversary on November 3rd. I quit ballet (sort of.) I devoted myself to film and theatre. I took SAT's. I decided what I'm going to do next year. I went to an island that will become part of the rest of my life. I lost my virginity. I became truly awed and passionate about a political candidate- shocker there, I haven't been pleased with anyone in politics for years, let alone campaigned for one. I saw that candidate become elected- the first black president our country has seen, only a few decades after Jim Crow. 

And that's really the thing that matters most. Barack Obama may make me proud to be an American in the coming years- me, a person who's wanted to immigrate to England for as long as I knew it existed. But now? I think I'd like to stick around. The time for change has come. 

One thing I am deeply disappointed in, however, is the passage of Prop. 8 in California. As a bisexual woman, I feel that my rights have been taken away. Since I will probably be living in southern California for several years, I am deeply pained by this unexpected result. In California, one of the most liberal states in the country, my rights to marry who I choose have been taken away. I don't understand how this could happen. How after so much change, we could POSSIBLY move backwards on this most basic of rights- the right to legally share my life with whomever I please. 

So that's that. I hope it'll be overturned soon. 

But America as a whole? You made the right decision last night and I, like Michelle Obama, am proud of my country for the first time in my life. 

And yeah... there was some screaming and there were a few tears. 

All my fellow Obama supporters? YES WE DID! Today is the first day of a new America. Hallefuckinglujah. It's about damn time.

In california at my aunt & uncle's house. But I really want to be at home right now.

I got a voicemail yesterday from connor. crying.

Senior party was night before last. 

Three students drove away at seven in the morning. The driver, at least, was still drunk.

Two of my classmates died yesterday. 

Pauline, a junior like me, and Brook, a sophomore and rodeo queen. 

The boy, a senior, survived. He was in the backseat. 

I'm in shock. And I want to go home and see everyone.

HOLY FUCK SHOEBOX UPDATE.

IT'S AMAZING.

GO READ.

MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Today in a nutshell.

My brain: JUST FUCKING ADMIT IT AND KISS ME ALREADY, YOU IDIOT! 
Me: Oh, you need time to think? Sure, take as long as you want.
CZ: *thinks*
My Brain: HOW LONG DO YOU NEED?! YEARS?!
CZ *flirts*
My brain: *confused*
CZ: *ickle kiss on the cheek*
My brain: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? THAT WAS PATHETIC! 
Me: See you tomorrow! *drives away*
My brain: *ded of frustration*


AHHHHHHHHHHHFUCK.

No school= Hanging out in the green room all day= Best. Day. Ever.


Oh, people. I love you so much, it's ridiculous. 

Antigone this thursday-saturday, Toy Shoppe next saturday & sunday. Shows, shows, all the time!

Oh, right, my mother. She was going to go out of town for a while, so I was going to have four days all to myself before my father and stepmother return from Oregon. And I was going to celebrate 420 with people, and I was going to do something with Sam, and Miranda and I were going to hang out for a couple days. 

But no. Because the universe hates me, she has decided to DECLINE the offer to work on Barack Obama's campaign in another state, and I am stuck at her house all weekend. 

Anyway.

This is the best thing I've heard all day. Perhaps all week: "Once, when the land was young and alphabets roamed wild, the big grey messy thing tried to copulate with a fridge. One frozen mars bar later and humans end up distrustful and full of peanut butter." 


Sock dreams! BEST THING EVER. Who wants to buy me these with the charcoal background and blue and gray argyle, or these in turquoise, or these in khaki, which is really the grey ones? GOD I love socks. 

Also, I cannot WAIT for so many books right now! Suite Scarlett is out, as well as The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau Banks and City of Ashes, and Jaida's book, Havemercy, is going to be out in two months, and Philip Pullman has written a prequel to his most amazing work, possibly the most amazing work of the last fifty years, the His Dark Materials trilogy. 

Plus I am SO good at manifesting things. On friday, fifth period, I was really really really wanting a cigarette but with no way to access them at the moment, so I was all, "Universe, if you could just provide me with a cigarette, I would be THRILLED, like just make them be lying there waiting for me to find them." and on my way home, what do I find but an entire unopened package? 

I can conjure things out of thin air. Now that is magic.

She was sixteen today, sweet sixteen like the chocolate cake she shared with her boys last night, but all she can think is that if this is sweet, she'd hate to taste sour, because there is little guilt like the guilt of hearing her mother talk about her plans for the future and knowing this will be the last week she ever spends with her. Sweet sixteen, and the day is spent avoiding essay rewrites and lying with her every glance, like she's not about to go out and do everything that woman ever preached against. Sweet sixteen, and she feels forty, tired of the lies and tired of the divorce scars that mar her world but not her. Sweet sixteen. Shouldn't this one, at least, mark joy rather than pain? When did her birthday become a warning rather than laughter? 

Sweet sixteen, and all she tastes of is the rotted peel of a lemon, fruit turned foul with time. 

Fourteen she lost her purity, body ravaged by uninvited hands later handcuffed, like that could stop their depraved movement. Fifteen she fled across the country to visit her young cousins, in a desperate attempt to surround herself with innocence and leave that black hole where there should have been love behind.

Sixteen she tried. She really, really tried. But all she could hold was the sour and the salt. 

Sweet sixteen, and the last thing she tasted as the day ended was the hot damp salt, taking over her face in gentle rivers. 

Their gentleness makes their truth no less violent on this sweet sixteen night.

Lolcat + Monty Python = Favorite thing ever 
 

 Goodness my friendspage is long today! I haven't time to reply to everything, so I will say this: YOU ARE ALL AWESOME, PARTICULARLY SARAH. 

SOME THINGS:

I've been singing the stupid fucking coconut song for a week! 

I may be getting my dad to file for single custody.

I probably got a D on a history test today! 

I ditched first period and got away with it, though I always do.

I'm going to california with Miranda in TWO DAYS AND WE'RE GOING TO LAY ON A BEACH LIKE LAZY LAZY LUPINS!

I have backstage passes to 48 straight, LALALALALALALA! YAY!

I had to go the dentist instead of a pedicure with Miranda and get my gums poked till they bled... :(

I'm going to watch season 2 of SPN this weekend!

I hate my literature teacher! He makes me feel like a complete idiot intentionally and then doesn't help me understand things, or anyone else!

My teeth have gross stuff on them like flouride glue and I can't take it off for hours...

I have adorable new pjs with polka dots and they are bright pink! Also new swimsuit and capris and tanks and things to wear at the beach!

I have to go to ballet now!

SHINYSHINYSHINY

So. Have found BEST FIC EVER.

You must read it. Now. Is crack.

 So. Fucking. Exhausted. 

I've been working backstage on Crazy For You for the past...four days now, and I haven't been home before ten fifteen or later all week, and it's the beginning of a new trimester, and I haven't had time to do anything except eat sleep school work.

So if I've been supposed to talk to you about a project or anything else- Rinney, Bella, whoever, I'm terribly sorry but I am a zombie and anything I'd have to say would be nonsense punctuated with "Turn the fucking platform! Get out of the wings! Get me that table!" kind of drivel. 

I just keep telling myself, "You have backstage passes to the 48 Straight friday night. You will be going to malibu with miranda for a week the next day. Just ignore everything else and you will live."

So yeah.

So I just got a new haircut, and I love it! The stylist put something in my hair that made it all shiny and soft and straight, and I may kill someone to obtain it. Cause my hair is of the ratsnest variety on good days.

I would post pictures...but...I'm too lazy. 

Also can't find camera. 

OK woah, in my sidebar while I'm typing this, under the googly ads, there's one that says "Your pretty mexican bride is waiting for you". How fucked up and creepy is that? Not to mention racist! Yuck! LJ, screen your ads better!

I'm going to a play tonight that one of my best friends is in! 

I have the attention span of a magpie in a room of silver!

<3!

She loved rain, loved the sounds it made as the tiny droplets exploded in miniscule deaths upon her rooftop. She loved the rushing of water coming from her drainpipe like a river from the heavens. She loved the color the sky became- not gray, like clouds were assumed to be, but a dark, dark blue, like the deep ocean. There was an ocean overhead, she liked to think, and it would come down on her with a mighty BOOM and the flash of lightning. Lightning and thunder were all very well, she thought, in their way, but she preferred the steady litany of drops splashing onto pavement to the showy displays of celestial power that were manifest in lightning and thunder. Really, she often mused, the combination of the two was absurd- by itself, a single flash of lightning unaccompanied by thunder or vice versa might do nicely to terrify native dwellers of the lands of long ago, but to place the two in concert was simply showing off. Rain wasn’t like that- it simply existed. It came when it could hold off no longer, and when it was done, it left gentle reminders of its presence in the hanging of the air, the steamy roads, and the drooping of leaves heavy with water.

I  have so much to do! oodles of homework! A zillion things I want to blog about! a zillion things I have to read on the internet! A show to do! A room to clean and finish painting! a phone to buy! A friend to berate for doing something stupid that had bad consequences! A letter to send! my grades to fix! a movie to make! dinner to eat! hair to have trimmed! special face and hair stuff to buy! office and kitchen to clean! things to write! 

And I have no time!

Now I have to go change and eat and get to dress rehearsal! in like fifteen minutes! 

Goodbye!

 Eurgh. Sick. 

I'm missing my performances.

Throwing up is the most disgusting thing in the world. 

And I missed the first snow day since fifth grade (and probably the last one I'll ever have) because I could hardly stand up. WTF, world? And it was a gorgeous blue sunny day and there was so much fresh powder and everyone else got to go skiing and I was on the couch unable to move or swallow anything more than a tablespoon's worth of bubbly water.

We got like two feet of snow in a night, though, so that was cool. And ha, the school board actually decided that snow days were no longer allowed about two years ago, but we got one ANYWAY. The administration thinks they can control everything, but mother nature's got them down.

 Here are some actual sentences from my grammar textbok. I swear to god, they are unedited and reproduced exactly as I saw them. And none of them are used as examples, they are all instructions and directions. 

"This sentence is absurd"

"Let us, for a moment, award our attention to adverbs. "

"Reduction is the same thing as using a tack -not a spike- to fasten a calendar to the wall."

"Some people try to impress others by using pretentious language, by repeating themselves, and by expressing themselves in a roundabout way." (well no shit sherlock.)

"A president cannot serve longer than himself." 

"We remove deadwood from a tree because it conrtibutes nothing to the life or productiveness of the tree."

"Dangling phrases have no word to modify or appear to modify the wrong word. They are like an airplane circling in the air with no place to land."

And lastly, in the table of contents, this is printed: 

"Adverbes"

Am I allowed to refuse to learn from a grammar textbook because it misspells ITS OWN SUBJECT?

On a sadder note, Heath Ledger died today, leaving behind a young baby daughter and many grieving fans. 10 Things I Hate About You was one of my FAVORITE movies of all time, and Brokeback was just plain brilliant. He was an extremely talented actor, and will be much missed.

FOUND PHONE. AND IPOD. AFTER A MONTH. 

SO. THRILLED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HAVE A LOLBUNNY! (the longer-eared, shorter-tailed version of a lolcat.)

So over the holidays, I acquired about eleven new books, through various means, and have at last managed to finish the last of em. 

Most fabulous, one or two overrated, and at least one better than I thought it'd be. 

Thoughts on these forthcoming. 

Also, there are four-foot long icicles on the roof outside of my window. I spy an accidental death coming on...

Also also, dance for four-five hours on both weekend days is just unfair. Rehearsals cause pain, pain makes Faith cranky. Cranky Faith makes other people frightened and vexed.


With love and soreness,

Faith