Oh, strange mind of mine....

Does anyone have a dream dictionary?

Cause yesterday, after a perfectly normal, even somewhat happy day, I had an odd dream. First, in the dream, my laptop broke in half--severed between the screen and keyboard. And then my boyfriend cheated on me with a mutual friend. It was a weird dream, to say the least, and I really don't know what to think about it. I need to find out what the symbolism behind it is...


AH!


I also have this huge, uncomfortable feeling that I've changed a great deal in a short amount of time. Like I'm a completely different person all of a sudden. I'm not sure if I'm the only one who has noticed, though. Probably not.

JESSICAS BIRTHDAY TODAY!

Happy birthday, petite bebe'. 18. Glorious.

Sorry for my bitching...

This is the finale.

Get ready to clap.



Last 24 hours + me = WTF.


I mean it. I stepped on a lightbulb. Ow. I didn't ever realize I had such great blood flow in my feet. I won't see the boyfriend for like a month, maybe more.
Probably can't start college for another quarter.
Found AND lost my glasses.

I need to sleep. I really, really do. I feel like my life was just hit with a tsunami.


IM going to go watch SHUTTER!

oooOOOOOoooOOOoooohhhhhhh...

Since when was I having a tough time?!

Seriously? All of a sudden, I'm not liking the way things are a little bit.

I mean I am happy, really. But there's an undertone that I don't like... it's a tiny bit like this isn't going to last. I'm probably just being paranoid, but I've been right about these things before.

I feel like if I don't clean my room soon, it's disorder is going to come to life and eat me. In Feng Shui, your room is a pretty good representation of your life. So I suppose not being able to see the floor or use most of my furniture regularly might not be the best idea.

I always start with laundry. But then I cant reach my dresser (which hardly functions in the first place) and so the clean, folded clothing eventually ends up on my bed, then the floor. I am talking piles... piles of random crap that I obviously don't use or I would always be looking for something.

So today...I'm doing the first step, Laundry. I have a bag of good will clothes, and I am showing no mercy. If I can't remember the last time I wore it, or I cant see myself wearing it within the next 6 months, it's gone. If anything about it is ripped, stained, or fraying, it's gone. If I only kept it to make someone not feel bad, it is.... you guessed it, outta here.

All garbage, dishes, and empty boxes will be removed immediately. My bookshelf will hold books and little else. DVDs will be in their case and on top of the television, along with the remote controls (if I can ever find them). Jewelry will be separated and hung somewhere I can easily reach them.

And finally, I will sweep the floor. The last touch?


I should probably hang my posters that have been slowly travelling in a box around my room for the last two or three years.


Then, and only then, will I let myself start my mural. My dream wall, the one I have wanted to paint at least since freshman year, if not longer.


NOW that I've outlined the rest of my week... I should probably get to it.




P.S. I just took a few 'before' pictures, but I feel sick to my stomach when I think about posting them until I have fabulous 'after' pictures that I can be proud of. So hopefully that will motivate me to clean faster.
:)

AHHH!

Jessica is coming home today! JESSICAAAAA.

what a lovely name. Oh dear, I don't remember being so excited! Except for that one time.


AND today I get to help babysit 9 children. 9.



9.








:o






BUT THEN I GET TO SEE JESSICA!
You win some, you lose some.




And so, without further ado, here is a picture from graduation (finally).





We're the most attractive.

I cannot write; I cannot think

This is ridiculous.

I KNOW where I want this story to go. I do. I know, for sure.

I KNOW where I am in this story.

I CAN'T WRITE IT. It has become impossible to communicate. Somewhere, in the long trek from my brain to my fingertips, my words are mangled and destroyed.

I EVEN HAVE AN OUTLINE. GRR.

2 pages in to chapter 12, and my book thinks it is over.


YES. IT THINKS.



Time for a nice, stiff coca-cola.

Its the American spirit.

I finished the 11th chapter in my book. I'm having a little trouble with the intro to the 12th, but Ill get there. Jessica read my entire story, 63 pages of it, and edited it. She put little notes in it which was completely awesome. So the version I will be posting is the edited version.

HARRY POTTER tonight! So excited.


I mostly just wanted to post this picture I took in Sandpoint. If you cant see it....its an old fashioned truck with a huge American flag on it...and a shower in the back. A SHOWER.

HAH. Everything they need, right there in the back of their truck.

:)

I feel like I just walked into Rocky Horror world...

Because the last few weeks have been really, REALLY weird.

HOLY CRAP have they been weird.

Seriously. I hardly even remember most of it. Just that they were freaky. And I guess I'm starting to be comfortable with a few changes, finally. I guess. If you can call this feeling comfortable. Maybe I'm more accepting than comfortable. We'll see.

I just woke up. This has been my pattern for the last week: Wake up semi-late, check Facebook, Check E-mail, Check Blogger. Eat some sort of food, probably leftovers from my mother and I's dinner the night before (We've been eating out a LOT), Shower/Bathe, ponder, Wait for people to come over, hang out with said people for a couple of hours, and sleep.

Holy SHIT my life is somewhat...boring right now, isn't it? Let's just say I am SO ready for college to start.

I had a dream last night about this fall. For some reason, Jessica didn't come back from France until early September, and we were all so very happy she was back. She told me she had texted me while she was away, but I had never gotten back to her...(Which is funny because her phone is, I think, still at her house...). It was odd. I can't remember the rest of the dream, but for some reason I think there was a scooter involved.

As for my book, well...I used my writing mood all the way from chapter 7 to chapter 11. I'm okay with that. I know I'll write more soon, I just need to let everything that has already happened settle. It's sort of like digesting food: If I eat too much, I'll be sick or blow up, but if I eat a couple of meals in a day and then sleep it off, I can eat more the next day.

BY THE WAY, I just started a blog, a new one, so I can post chapters of my story. Check it out: http://insanitys-companion.blogspot.com/

AND HAPPY LATE FOURTH EVERYONE. Too bad I was in SANDPOINT and we STILL werent allowed to use fireworks. What Bull.

The Picture to the right is the Tree of Life. Tattoo? Perhaps...


INDEED! Well, that's all for now, apparently. I'm going to go eat some breakfast, shower, and wait for a certain someone to come over :).

CHEERS! <3

My story

Ive decided to do it. Here, in my blog, I'm going to post the prologue to my story, to see what people think of it. BE HONEST.

Prologue

Insanity
In*san"i*ty\, n. [L. insanitas unsoundness; cf. insania insanity, F. insanite.]

1. The state of being insane; unsoundness or derangement of mind; madness; lunacy.

2. (Law) Such a mental condition, as, either from the existence of delusions, or from incapacity to distinguish between right and wrong, with regard to any matter under action, does away with individual responsibility.

Syn: Syn>- Insanity, Lunacy, Madness, Derangement, Aliention, Aberration, Mania, Delirium, Frenzy, Monomania, Dementia.



It started with a dream. That’s all. Just a sequence of images I happened to see while I was sleeping. It seems cliché, but that‘s the only beginning I can offer. It was dreaming that threw my life upside down. My life…was it my life? I’m still not sure. Am I living, even now? In spite of everything I understand at present, I can’t know for sure. I’ve learned, not to take anything for granted, and to never put your faith in anything, no matter how concrete it seems.

Being insane is slightly unsettling. Knowing you’re insane and having no idea what to do about it? Considerably more disturbing. It isn’t all hallucinations and fanatical suspicions. You start to wonder if everything you are seeing is a delusion, and if it is, you don’t want to even consider what is real. You can’t tell anyone the things you see because you dread their reaction, and the possibility of having someone else tell you how crazy you are is equally horrific. Eventually, you feel like no one else is sane, because you know that what you’ve seen and heard is real.

But still, no one else sees what you see, even the people you love. Despite your friend’s and family’s love for you, that could previously accept all of your past flaws, there are things that can overcome love. And you realize the most important thing; crazy or not, these people are afraid of you. And what has humanity always done to those of us they are scared of?

They lock us away.






(Tell me what you think.)

Here I am, writing again...

You know, I really think writing in a blog about how I have writers block has proven to be an excellent cure.

There I was, "complaincomplaincomplain", and then SNAP, as soon as I posted that last, angry little installment damning Power-Writing to hell and back, I produced almost two chapters in my book.

So, as I start to lose my almost unquenchable urge to write, I feel like I have to post something before Bernadette Foster and Dr. Sharpe's adventures cease to exist (to me, anyways).

Right now I'm at a point in the book where I feel like it would be far too soon to bring a few things out in the open, but also that if I don't the book will become a monotonous pile of garbage. What to do, what to do.... I think I'll compose a list of things that NEED to happen and things that have already happened.

OH, and if I know you and you are reading this and would like to read my story, hit me up ;).

On TALL tales...

You know, I started to write a blog about the last week or so, but failed to post it. SO I'll post when I feel like it, and no one can stop me.

I really, really, really need to keep writing in my story. I have about 8 chapters now (I think) and what would be the point of all of that wasted time and creativity if I stopped now?

I desperately want to finish it, but I cant seem to figure out how to get from point A to point B, then from point B to point C. I know everything I want to happen in the story. Start to finish. But when I try to write it: no dialog, no descriptions. Nothing.

I wish I had the patience to just deal with it and be a writer. Maybe part of me doesn't want to write it, because I don't think people would like my ideas. Maybe I don't want to finish it, because I feel like the whole thing will be pointless.

I THINK POWER-WRITING F@!%#* UP MY CREATIVITY!!!

Stupid Middle-School and your stupid English class requirements.