Update, if anything.

I don't really have anything to say.

I got a new phone, an actual real one, instead of that old tracphone I had.

And now, apparently, U. feels free as a bird to text me for hours. We talk through texting, which isn't so bad. But he told me that apparently he and his girlfriend have already told each other they love each other. . . friends or not, I don't want to hear it. (sigh)

Ah well. I'll live.

Anyway, I had a dream about my dad last night. And so far we've exchanged some emails, which is way more than has been in a long while.

Anyway, that's all. I'm going to go nurse my knee, which has a cut on it thanks to my cats. I just know it'll leave a scar. (sigh) I hate it when they gang up on me and I walk into the corner of my desk, lol.

Such is life.

Ta!

This happens. . .

I really don't feel like writing. I have no inclination. Not even a little. Every time I think about jotting down a brilliant post, outlining my boring day, something, anything, I pause and think, "Why?" Is there a purpose to this? I'm not sure there is. *sighs* Oh well. I'll give it a shot. After all, I'm good at faking enthusiasm when the situation calls for it. Then again, once I start writing, it's hard for me to stop or slow down. Witness - the acceleration.

Today was absolutely stunning. Last night, as I was perusing my old journals (of which there are three), I found and subsequently read a scene from the sequel (which I haven't written yet) to the book I haven't finished yet. . . don't try to decipher the chaos . . . . and it made me so giddy happy that I actually hugged myself before clapping in utter bliss like an idiot. That's how great this little, less-than-a-page scene was. Yeah, I know. *nods sagely* :P

Anyway, so that put me in a good mood for most of the day. I almost, keyword almost, tripped going up the last flight of stairs (again) on my way to the third floor for second period (again). Have I reiterated enough the word 'again'? Luckily, I didn't face plant it, nor did I bang my knee or spill my books and calculator for the world to see. *grins* I caught myself, so it wasn't a major skip-the-step incident, just a minor one, while my friend grabbed my arm rather quickly to make sure I didn't face plant it . . . again. We've concluded, unanimously, that I need to relearn how to walk. *smiles* What can I say? It did give me quite the adrenaline rush though (which may have been caused by the combination of walking up three flights of stairs, adrenaline hyperventilation/panic at another incident that could have ended badly [but thankfully didn't], and laughing/retelling the story that should never be mentioned again) which lasted all through the rest of passing period, and a few minutes into class as well.

On the bright side, when I was walking up the stairs last week with another of my friends, she remarked on how gracefully I seemed to flow up the stairs. Big ego boost, wouldn't you say? I told her, as I will tell you, that because I am rather large-er chested (and please never ask me just how much larger) than all of my high school friends (and possibly even acquaintances, though you would never really notice, nor can tell all that much, thankfully) I have perfected the way I walk on the stairs to minimize, and god this phrase is embarrassing even in my head, all possible, and inevitable, bounce-age. *laughs, shakes head at self* Needless to say, it still hasn't prevented me from not quite stepping on the steps at times, and losing my already precarious (though hopefully at least slightly graceful . . . ?) balance. *grins* Yeah, I'm sure I lost you way back at the last paragraph, didn't I? Still laughing? Good.

Moving on.

This weekend will be such murder to the senses, I don't even know where to begin. I believe Sunday actually has a high of -8 and a low of -18, not counting the 40 mph wind speed. I think it comes to around -65 degrees, all in total. Ouch. Good thing I don't really have to leave the house. *smiles devilishly* Mom does though.

Wow, I have a lot of convoluted sentences today. Very lengthy, full of much parentheses action and commas. Sorry. I'm sure it is quite arduous to read so that at least a fraction of it comes out in coherent, understandable phrases. Oops. I tend to get caught up in the words. I never know when to stop a sentence when I'm in this mood, because hey, every single word is important. . . . right? *sighs, rolls eyes*

Oh, and by the way, I'm apparently quite laughable when I say the word (part of my childhood culture. . . . too dramatic?) . . . . . . get ready for it . . . . . . . . y'all. Yeah, it ain't special when my English teacher used it, my friend L. made that all too clear when I pointed it out to her in class. My y'all is special because, apparently *insert eye roll*, I say it with a twang, a little country/southern accent and something or other. *scoffs* Whatever. I don't know. Maybe I say it a bit differently since I am, after all, from the south. And who wants to waste breath, mouth maneuverability, and all around effort saying "you all" when they could quite easily simplify it and use y'all? *sighs* It's beyond my mental capacity to entirely dissect this puzzling . . . puzzle.

But I've overstayed my post. Anyway. I just read this book (a very quick read, by the way) called "First Kiss (Then Tell)" by Cylin Busby (great name, eh?). It caught my eye in the library (which happens a lot, and is why I never do my homework in the library, as you can often see me coming out with a stack of twenty books and a little time card that says "Sorry - full, no room nor time to read"), and I just had to read it. It is a multitude of short retellings by various authors/poets/comic book writers, all discussing their real-life, true - not fabricated, "First Kiss." It is alternately hilarious, disgusting, and overall sweet/dissapointing. I loved it. I laughed quite a bit, too. So, if you feel like it, there ya go. It's a very good fluff book, quite endearing and priceless.

And now that I've done ramblin' this evenin', y'all have a good night. *insert southern accent*

*rolls eyes* ;)

Like a Ballerina. . .

Hmm. . . Let's see. Morning's going great at the moment. Let me tell you, I'm starting to feel more and more graceful and carefree. :D

The house is, for once, clean. I feel I can walk anywhere without having to dodge shoes, clothes, notebooks, papers, etc. It's very nice. I don't have to watch where I walk anymore. . . . Anyone see anything wrong with that?

Well. (sits up straighter)

While trying to lead my cat out of my room, doing some sort of mix of 'come-hither' and 'get-the-fuck-out-of-my-room-already' I walked into the outer corner in my hallway. Strike One. (Oh, and it didn't work, by the way. Something about me making a fool of myself that seemed to, um, make me less intimidating.)

Then, when sitting down at the desk, the chair twisted and my best finger (ie. my middle finger) got caught between a plastic place and a wooden place. Strike Two. (Though we're still well enough off that I can type as easily as ever.)

We've yet to see what strike three is, but, please let it not be tripping. I'm not sure I could handle the shame. *mock swoons*

There will indeed be an update. (and hopefully not soon . . .)

Thanks?

We're all wondering about that previous post. Well, I went back to sleep (tentatively) and woke up with blacker circles under my eyes than should have been there, considering I went to bed at seven o'clock the night before and woke up at eight-thirty in the morning. Perfect start to Thanksgiving. Perhaps my music is becoming a wall for me, a sort of tonic, shield, a bit of protection. I slept with my music on last night, and woke up in considerably better condition than that night. Even though, for the most part, I get less sleep when I have music playing in my consciousness, it still helps. *smiles*

Thanksgiving wasn't too bad, for the most part, despite the rough beginning I had. My family all went to my aunt's tiny house, instead of my grandparent's house, because my grandmother is just too tired to want to entertain anymore. I saw my little blonde cousin (at nine years old) all dressed up in her black velvet and gold taffeta dress, running around with sticks from her backyard. I also got to see my other aunt, who's always away, and her three little boys. They're are so spoiled, so very attached to their mother and chocolate milk. The real kind. From the store. *laughs* I can't wait to see how they grow up. *smiles* Though I am family and shouldn't play favorites, I still like the eldest one best (he's eight), I know he's going to be absolutely adorable when he grows up, with his dark hair and grey eyes. He'll break a lot of hearts, that's for sure. *chuckles* The middle one is somewhere around four years old, extremely attached to his mother, and has the best smile. In a way, he sort of reminds me of a blond Emmett Cullen off the twilight series. He'll be great when he's older, but for now, yikes. Lol. And the youngest is just too young to tell anything out of that. I don't know. My twenty year-old brother, his son and eighteen year old fiancee, dropped by for an hour or so before going to spend the day with her family *rolls eyes*, so we got to see my little nephew. It's funny, he's about two years younger than my four year old cousin, and yet he's just as tall. *grins* He's also about ten times more well behaved, such a little mature gentleman, which is shocking considering who his parents are. *looks ashamed* Okay, I'll play nice-ish, I suppose. *sighs*

Dinner was an interesting affair. I'm sure my aunt wouldn't have been able to finish the entire thing in time if my grandma and I hadn't lent our expertise. *laughs at the silly phrase* I made the potatoes, burned my hand a bit on the handle of a skillet, and served the rest of the family at the tiny table so poorly that I'm sure if I was a waitress, I wouldn't have gotten a tip. Lol.

Despite my frustration with my hair while it's still wet, somehow I can still get it to curl beautifully in the end. *laughs* Or at least, that was the case yesterday. Maybe I won't have to give up the curls when it gets longer. *grins hopefully, rolls eyes*

The one thing that really annoyed me (besides the lack of corn) was the fact that my aunt's entire house was already decorated for Christmas, and if I know her, has been for a while. *rolls eyes* What is it about this year? Everyone has decided to skip Thanksgiving. Downtown has been decorated for Christmas for weeks now, the stores have been selling for Christmas for at least a month. The whole world went from Halloween straight to St. Nick. *growls in frustration* It's sad how far we've gone in demeaning the true spirit of holidays, leaving it a consumer spree rather than a time to spend with family. *shakes head, sighs*

Overall, it was nice. It felt a bit reminiscent of Christmas rather than Thanksgiving, we didn't have a wishbone, and my aunt's eldest son (yeah, the one I love so much) well, he spent the time after dinner playing dress up with my other's aunt's daughter. He looked especially dashing in the blue dress, which went very well with his pale complexion. *grins* We asked my aunt if his father knew about this whole cross-dressing thing, and she said with a smile "What happens in -- stays in --." *laughs* We have some lovely pictures with which to torture him when he gets older. *nods*

Ahh, you gotta love family.

I forgot to say,

I've gotten clutzier. Yesterday, I ran into two tables and a chair. The day before that, I sort of bounced off a desk and into a pole, in my math class. *shakes head dolefully*

I wonder why? Preoccupied mind? The continued absence of another, more likely.

Though I am trying to convince myself that I don't really like him that much, that he's really just a friend to me, it's still hard.

I don't like silence, it's the worst thing of all. That's when my imagination picks up and runs away with me, dragging me along. Continually getting my feet knocked from beneath me, stumbling the whole way away. Vivid, overactive mind. *reprimands self, sighs*

Well, I've promised myself that I won't have two very long posts at the same time, so that's all, I guess. I'll have more later, do not doubt. This mind never quits thinking.

Oops. . .

So, I took a tumble up the stairs a few days ago. I didn't think much of it, besides finding it overwhelmingly hilarious. It's amazing to me still how clumsy I can be. After all, I try so hard to be graceful. And I feel like I succeed most of the time, until I run into a door jamb/table/wall, or trip over something. Then I feel so incredibly amused at myself and the entire situation. I've ceased to be embarrassed.

I've made it a saying of mine, "I've fallen so many times, now, that I've learned how to do it gracefully." And it is true, in its way. Most of the time when I fall down now it doesn't hurt, I don't get scrapes or bruises or twist my ankle or pull any muscles or even wrench my wrist. Well, most of the time.

Nowadays, I simply mutter my favorite expletive, moderatively loudly. "Damnit!" And then laugh. Just crack up, doubling over for minutes on end until I can see enough through my tears (of laughter) to get back up again.

It isn't anything new.

I tripped getting out of the car on Halloween. Landed on my butt in the grass. Good thing it was dark outside.

Don't get me wrong, though, I'm not overly clumsy, and yet I'm not accident-free either.

But my point of all this was to say that I think this time (damn stairs) I did hurt my wrist. I must have, in trying to catch myself on the top step, as I fell forward, overextended the muscle along my forearm. Or pulled the muscle, or wrenched my wrist, or twisted it, or whatever. In any case, it hurts. So much for writing, now. After all, only I would fall on the stairs and come out bruise free, except for straining my writing hand.

At least I scared some freshmen (who were walking ahead of me) in the process. That cheers me some. I could swear one of the two literally jumped four inches into the air.

Could have been worse.

I could have fallen on someone else's butt, like my sister did when she was a freshmen in high school. Oh yes, it could have been much, much worse.

*knocks on wood*

Just in case. :)