Omg omg Mello gave me a holy inscription
He's this roleplay account on Tumblr and and he gave me my life story in songs okay okay
Opening Credits: Monochrome no kiss (Kuroshitsuji)
Waking Up: Born this way (Lady Gaga)
First Day At School: Let your soul be your pilot (Matthew Morrison)
Falling In Love: Toxic (Local H)
Fight Song: Perfect (Hedley)
Breaking Up: Someone like you (Adele)
Life’s OK: Big Girls Don’t Cry (Fergie)
Getting Back Together: Glad you came (The Wanted)
Wedding: Im yours (Jason Mraz)
Birth of Child: You’ll be in my heart (Phil Collins)
Final Battle: Hero (Enrique Iglesias) Seriously, this just made me cry :’(
Death Scene: Bring me to Life (Evanescence)
Funeral Song: Our last Summer (ABBA)
End Credits: Im alive (Becca)
And so I've just been listening through it happily. I only just got to the end, and DO YOU KNOW WHAT I REALIZED?!
Monochrome no Kiss is Kuroshitsuji's opening theme.
I'm Alive is the ending theme.
OMG.
DUDE.
MY LIFE IS THE BEST LIFE EVER
I LOVE IT ;u;
Also I knew eight of these songs.
Eight.
I'm glad Mello and I have similar tastes.
I like this Mello.
Bring Me to Life is also thrillingly ironic.
You'll Be In My Heart makes no sense, but I love it.
Just okay. I'm happy. I'm going to flaunt this. And I'll come back and remember it someday.
THAT'S ALL.
And because I love Mello so much, here's the link to his blog.
I don't have any original content. I just wanted to post some articles from this writing newsletter thing that gets emailed to me because I found them relevant and useful.
2) Organizing: Tactics of the Winning Novelist
In my November column, I talked about the threeessential skills you need if you want to succeed in thewriting business -- Vision, Strategy, and Tactics. In December, I discussed Vision and gave you somesimple tips to help you define the Vision for yourcareer and for each book. In January, we tackled Strategy and I gave you a longterm strategic plan for managing your writing business. This month, let's talk Tactics. Tactics are the little things, the specific actions youtake to build your skills as a novelist and then towrite your novel. Let's be clear that those are separate tasks: buildingyour skills and writing a novel. An analogy might help:
Being a novelist is a lot like being a marathon runner.Before you can actually RUN a marathon, you need tofirst TRAIN for it. Typically, that takes a long time-- months of training to build the fitness andendurance to run an entire marathon. But once you've reached that level, you can run moremarathons with ease. Of course, you'll continue to train between races, butnow your training will be aimed at helping you runBETTER, rather than merely helping you FINISH.
In the same way, before you can write a novel, you needto develop your skills as a fiction writer. But once you've got the skills to write one novel, youcan write as many as you want with ease. You'll always be improving your skills, but afteryou've written your first novel, you'll be working towrite BETTER, not merely to FINISH.
I've identified five tactics you can use to build yourskills as a novelist to the point where you're ready towrite your first one. These tactics are simple. In fact, they're "obvious." Success in life can be as simple as doing the obvious.You'd be amazed how many writers ignore all these tactics.You'd be amazed how fast you improve, once you startdoing all five. Here they are:
Tactic #1: Write on a consistent schedule. Writing a novel is a marathon. A sprint here and a dashthere won't get you to the finish line. Writingconsistently for weeks and months WILL get you there. Decide how many hours per week you can dedicate towriting. If you're a beginner, this might be only oneor two. I recommend that beginners make it a goal toget up to five hours per week by the end of the firstyear of writing. Your writing schedule is for WRITING. Not for researchof your story world. Not for studying how to write. Notfor reading magazines about writing. Not for readingblogs or hanging out on e-mail loops for writers. Notfor going to writing conferences. All of those are fine things, but they aren't WRITING. You get better at running by running. You get better atwriting by writing.
Tactic #2: Keep a log of your writing time and wordcount. This sounds too simple (or possibly too anal) forwords. It isn't. Writing fiction is a JOB, at least for professionalnovelists. Someday, you'll be working with a publisherwho has a publication schedule mapped out for two yearsin advance. You'll sign a contract with that publisherto deliver X amount of words on a particular date. That date is not a fantasy. That date is reality. Ifyou miss that date, it costs your publisher money. Yes,they build in some slack in the schedule. No, you don'tever want to use any of it. Not one minute. Yourpublishers will love you if they know they can trustyou to meet your deadlines. But you can't sign a contract to deliver X words on aparticular date unless you know how fast you can write.You need to know how many words of output you cancreate in each hour of working time. Good runners know what pace they can run each mile. Professional writers know what pace they can write. If you want to be a professional writer someday, thenstart acting like one today.
Tactic #3: Give yourself a weekly quota. You can't do this until you've done #1 and #2 above. Inorder to create a meaningful quota, you have to knowhow many hours you can write each week, and you have toknow how many words you can produce each hour. (Theydon't have to be GOOD words. Goodness comes later.) Virtually all the successful writers I know assignthemselves a quota of some sort for creating theirfirst draft. While some writers use a daily quota andsome use a monthly quota, most of them seem to set aweekly word count. I recommend weekly. Your quota will be useless unless you actually meet it.Assign yourself a penalty for failing to reach yourquota. Find an accountability partner who can checkthat you hit your quota and can make you pay thepenalty if you fail. Important: Make your quota possible. Never miss it.
Tactic #4: Find a critique group or critique buddy. Most writers believe their work is either unutterablybrilliant or wretchedly awful. Generally, they're wrong on both counts. All writersare delusional. That's part of the job description. There is only one way to know whether your work is anygood or not. You need somebody else to read your work and tell you. You need a critique of your work regularly. I recommendthat you get a critique monthly. Find one or morepeople with all of these qualities: * They understand fiction* They will be honest * They will be kind If your critiquers lack any of these, then drop themlike a burning porcupine because they're useless to you.
Tactic #5: Constantly study the craft of fiction. It is not your critiquers' problem to tell you HOW towrite better. Their job is to point out what you'redoing well and what you're doing poorly. Your job is to find ways to improve your strong pointsso they're world-class (your strong points will makeeditors say yes someday). Your job is also to find ways to improve your weakpoints so they're at least adequate (your weak pointswill make editors say no right now). Generally, critiquers don't actually know how to teachyou how to improve your craft. They may think they do,but they usually don't. Skill in critiquing is not thesame as skill in teaching. You have plenty of sources for teaching you the craft:* Books* Magazines and e-zines* Classes* Conferences* Recorded lectures* Mentors When you know specifically what you want to improve,find some source of teaching on that exact topic andstudy it. Then apply what you learned to your writingand get critiqued again to see if you got it. Don'tquit studying until you get it.
That's it. Five tactics that will turn a talentedbeginner into a professional writer, if you do themconsistently for the rest of your life. To summarize, "Write, write, write! Get critiqued.Study. Repeat forever." Simple? Yes. Easy? No. That's why there are many more talented beginners thanprofessional writers.
In writing fiction, you'll constantly be raisingquestions in your reader's mind. Those questions createcuriosity and it's up to you to decide whether and whento satisfy that curiosity. On the one hand, nothing kills mystique quicker thaninstantly answering every possible question that mightarise. Curiosity keeps the pages turning. On the other hand, nothing is more frustrating thantrying to read a story where you lack essential contextto understand what's going on, especially when you feelthat the author is intentionally holding back criticalinformation for no good reason.
What you're looking for is balance. There are really two kinds of questions that you canraise: implicit and explicit questions. An implicit question arises when the reader lackscontext to understand something -- a foreign word or afamily tradition or a character's backstory. An explicit question is a question that one characterasks another.
The meta-question you should always be asking yourselfabout implicit and explicit questions is this: "ShouldI answer that question?" Sometimes you will; sometimes you won't. How do youknow when you should and when you shouldn't? There aren't any hard rules here, but I usually asksome related questions: * Is the reader going to be hopelessly confused unlessshe gets an answer to the question? Generally,curiosity is good, but confusion that leads to readerfrustration is bad. * Is the story pace going to suffer if I take time toanswer this question? During high-action parts of thestory, you really don't want to take time out toexplain things. Those explanations can usually wait atleast a few pages until you reach a low-action part ofthe story.
Let's look at some examples from the great novel, THECHOSEN, by Chaim Potok. In THE CHOSEN, the two lead characters meet in chapter1. They're fifteen year old Jewish boys, playing onrival baseball teams in 1944 Brooklyn. Our hero, Reuven Malter, is playing second base, andhis nemesis, Danny Saunders, hits a double. One of thefirst things Danny says to Reuven is this: "I told my team we're going to kill you apikorsim thisafternoon." If you're not Jewish, you may be wondering what"apikorsim" are. Potok doesn't tell you right away. It's clear from thecontext that the word is an insult. Potok doesn't breakthe pace of the story to explain any more. But the word hangs there in the reader's mind. It getsrepeated a few more times during the action part of thescene. Five pages later, there's a lull in the action. Potoknow explains that an apikoros originally meant aninfidel. However, Hasidic Jews like Danny Saunders alsouse the term even for observant Jews who are somewhatmore assimilated into American culture. For Danny Saunders, Reuven Malter is an apikoros whowill burn in hell. Potok takes half a page to explain all this. It's important to get it right, because Reuven andDanny are going to become friends, and Reuven's statusas a non-Hasidic apikoros will be a major obstacle totheir friendship. Yet it's not so important that Potok felt it necessaryto explain it in the heat of a baseball game. The exactdefinition of the word "apikoros" was an implicitquestion that could stew for a few pages before Potoktook the time to explain it.
Now let's look at an explicit question a little fartheron in the same book. Late in the game, Reuven takes the pitcher's mound forthe final inning of the game. Danny Saunders comes tobat and hits a wicked curve incredibly hard right atReuven. The ball shatters Reuven's glasses and smashesinto his forehead. Reuven is rushed to the hospital with a massiveheadache and a piercing pain in his left eye. There, hepasses out. The next day, he regains consciousness andfinds that he has a big bandage over his left eye. Hisfather comes to visit. Reuven has noticed that the nurse hasn't told himanything about his eye. So he asks his father straightout, "Is it all right?" That's an explicit question that his father couldanswer immediately. But he doesn't. Reuven has not yet grasped how serious the situationis. Neither has the reader. Reuven doesn't know he hada splinter of glass in his eye. He doesn't know that abig-shot eye surgeon performed an operation on his eyeto remove the splinter. He has no idea what danger he'sstill in. If Reuven's father answers the question right away,that would kill the tension before Reuven or the readereven know that there is any tension. So Reuven's father equivocates. He's not a good liarand Reuven presses him with more questions and more. Slowly, over a page and a half, the truth emerges. Thesplinter. The surgeon. The operation. The fact that thepupil of the eye was sliced and now has to heal. Thefact that it might scar as it heals. The strongpossibility that Reuven might never see again out ofthat eye. By the end of the scene, Reuven is in a panic and hehates Danny Saunders more than he's ever hated anybodyin his life. Danny wanted to kill him. Danny may very well haveblinded him in one eye. Danny is a despicable humanbeing. Hate takes time to build, and Potok builds it slowly bydragging out the answer to Reuven's question.
Sometimes an explicit question arises that shouldn't beanswered until as late as possible. Let's look at anexample from the same book. While Reuven is convalescing in the hospital, Dannycomes to apologize. Furious, Reuven sends him away. ButDanny is persistent and he returns the next day toapologize again. It takes some time, but slowly Reuven begins tounderstand Danny a little. Danny's father, Reb Saundersis a famous rebbe, leader of a Hasidic congregation.Danny is destined to be a rebbe someday, but that's thelast thing he wants. Danny is a once-in-a-generation genius and his restlessmind chafes at the restrictions his father puts on him.Danny is trapped in a life he would never have chosen. Danny has another problem, which he gradually revealsto Reuven. Danny's father never talks to him. Except when they'restudying Torah together, Reb Saunders never says aword to his son. Reuven asks Danny why. Because this question drives the entire story,revealing the answer would be the same thing as endingthe book, so the answer MUST be delayed until the veryend. The reader desperately wants to know the answer, butthe viewpoint character, Reuven, doesn't know theanswer, and neither does Danny. The reader knows she'll have to wait until Reb Saundersreveals it, in his own way, on his own schedule. This works because Reb Saunders is not a viewpointcharacter. Since he's the only person who knows theanswer, there's no problem in concealing it. However, it wouldn't work if Reb Saunders were aviewpoint character. When a viewpoint character holdsback a secret from the reader, it feels artificial andannoying, and the reader feels frustrated, cheated bythe author.
Your novel will raise all sorts of questions in yourreader's mind, some simple, some complex. Someimplicit, some explicit. It's up to you to figure out if and when to answerthese questions. Don't be too quick to answer them. But don't be tooslow, either. Part of the art of writing fiction isdeciding exactly how and when to reveal the answers.
This article is reprinted by permission of the author. Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "theSnowflake Guy," publishes the Advanced Fiction WritingE-zine, with more than 29,000 readers, every month. Ifyou want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction,AND make your writing more valuable to editors, ANDhave FUN doing it, visithttp://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com. Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketingand get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.
I love those moments where I know I should be nervous, and I anticipate the whole time that my anxiety will send me into bouts of shaking and garbled speech that ultimately lead to the demise of my chances, but then when I find myself in the midst of the moment I realize the emotions forgot to show up, leaving me with a too-good-to-be-true sense of calm and a the notion that maybe I can actually do this quivering within my mind.
But then there's times where they tell me for no good reason that I can't wear those goggles, even around my neck, while they take my license photo. So in the end my plan to have a permanent picture of me dressed as Matt imprinted onto this glossy card of privilege doesn't work because the only identifying feature is the fluffy collar below my chin, which is better than nothing, but a lot more inadequate than it could be.
Sometimes, though, I'm lucky enough to be promised a 'celebration' by my mum. Celebrating with her usually consists of getting fast food. So even though I'm not always hungry, I can at least cash a rain check in later that night and eat my number eight from BurgerKing in happiness, wearing ribbed jeans and a glossy belt and wishing I had a striped shirt, but knowing it needs to be washed and figuring that it doesn't matter since all I really wanted to show my band friends was what I did to my jeans, anyway.
There's also times when I don't even know why I'm talking oddly. Maybe I think it's clever of me, but maybe I also feel that I'm trying to hard and should just stop—it's sort of fun though, so I can just grin to myself and decide it won't matter in the end. Writing never was supposed to be about pleasing everyone, anyway, and I finally get to start realizing that again; everything is more peaceful when I'm not just laying out carefully placed words, meticulously adjusting the angles and arrangements. Sometimes that approach works, but there's times when I just need to get it done, so I try to dump all the words right onto the ground and haphazardly sort through them, some in this pattern and some over here, and—oh hey, maybe this is actually gonna form a clear picture. When I'm finished it'll probably be messy; I'll have to adjust it later, but that's okay because at least now I have a beautiful picture staring up at me, and now that the motivation of actually forming an image is gone, I still have the awareness that with just a little tweaking, this could be perfect. Or perhaps flawed, but in a gorgeous way, one where I'll be able to grin at it when I'm done and be proud to let everyone see it.
UM MAY I JUST SAY, I'M EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO KAMI-SAMA AND MICHAEL-KUN AND YEAH. Don't give those guys enough credit. Cus you know what, not only was I not nervous throughout the test, but I didn't even have to do half the stuff I'd thought I would—like take another written test, do a three-point turnabout, or back fifty feet in a straight line. I just parked in two diagonal spaces and drove around and parked downhill and that was it, man. The attractive man in the car with me didn't even find it necessary for me to use the emergency brake or whatever it is for parking. o.o; (Which is good, cus ours doesn't work, and I'm not very much used to using it in the first place.)
It also just happened to work out that I woke up early enough, and that we had some bananas left, and that I'd taken a shower the night before so my hair would look lovely.
I'm still not even certain what my beliefs are right now, but I know I believe Kami-sama exists, so I'm attributing all these lucky little things to him. I don't want to forget to be grateful, and I've always said that I don't want to take anything for granted.
So Kami-sama, thank you for letting me pass, and thank you for not letting me crash when I drove to the library by myself, and thank you for letting me get two volumes of Kuroshitsuji, and thank you for Komoda because I love her, and I SORT OF HAVE A BEAUTIFUL LIFE.
I also love this song.
It starts off with this heartrending tone and Patrick's voice, and there's just this overall gorgeous dreary sense to it and oh my. ;-; And then suddenly it picks up, and the hidden tragedy still remains, but then there's more activity and words. Fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don't worry; you'll never your remember. Your head is far too blurry. Etc~
I love it I love it I love it. Kami-sama bless Fall Out Boy's souls.
Boycott love. Detox just to retox. And I promise you anything for another shot at life. Imperfect boys with their perfect lives. Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.
So the paint on my D and K keys is emaciated.
Naw not really emaciated. I just wanted to use that word. More like astoundingly worn away.
I don't even get how this happened. One day I looked at them, and there were these huge mangled bare spots ground into the paint, like something had dented them. I suppose it's just because of my nails hitting them so much or something, but all the same, it's odd.
And now a bit of the paint on my fn key is gone too. Just a bit.
I don't even use that key.
Also, I'm reading Eldest, and I just got to the exciting part where the separate plots all converge, and everyone and everything comes together AND IT'S THE MOMENT OF TRUTH.
I'm also still learning new words. So far I've gotten mephitic and turgid out of this reading. I particularly like turgid because it can be used to refer to really full clouds or flooded rivers or the like, but it's also for when people say things that're 'pompous' and—like . . . like extravagant speeches that really don't mean much. There's so much intense vocabulary in here, just, wow. And Christopher Paolini was so young when he published this! I'm going to be like him. @.@ Someday.
I'd really love to be reading Looking For Alaska right now, but my siblings have been demanding I finish the Inheritance cycle quickly. They're still waiting for me to get through the last book so they can read it, too. D: Oops. So I read Looking For Alaska's first page, but that's it. IT'S BEAUTIFUL SO FAR THOUGH. John Green's proper grammar is impressive, and I . . . well, I really haven't gathered much in terms of plot and characters yet, but I'm looking forward to being able to actually read through this, seeing as Paper Towns was so gorgeous and yee.
"There's a letter here waiting to go in the mail; in my head it's all clear, but I'm not quite prepared to fade away. Don't fade away. Somehow I'm trying to do this right."
THIS SONG. 私の神. I'm not even listening to it, but it's captured me so efficiently. It makes me think of my otp. ;_; I . . . okay here I'm going to stick it in here. Right in here. I adore it.
I've heard stories through silence, and we laugh at the end
and declare that today was the best day we've lived.
But the end of the night draws a calm to the dark,
where I dream you exist in the places you aren't.
I'm cold inside,
and these pictures can't even explain
what's missing in my life.
The coldest of calendars~
I couldn't have it any better.
Half the time I am alive just to see your smile.
I'm cold inside.
I'm cold inside.
Someday you will understand.
It just takes a little time.
There's a letter here waiting to go in the mail.
In my head it's all there, but I'm not quite prepared
to fade away.
Don't fade away.
Somehow I'll try to do this right.
I'm cold inside,
and these pictures can't even explain
what's missing in my life.
The coldest of calendars~
I couldn't have it any better.
Half the time I am alive just to see your smile.
Sometimes I feel cold inside,
and it feels like I am sleeping outside.
Indoors there's a light I can see in your eyes.
I've seen nights without sleep, days without daylight.
These memories I keep won't keep me warm at night.
The coldest part is the heart that we share.
It's breaking apart and you're not even here
to say things will get better,
so, freezing, I'll blanket my discontent till I sleep again.
I'm cold inside.
I'm saving a story that won't begin til you're there.
It makes my heart ache to daydream about it. XD
I'm sort of a sucker for things that do that to me. I recently finished watching Wolf's Rain, and I cried so fucking much that I knew I was in love with it. And now I'm working on FMA, which has already made me want to sit and sob. But the thing with FMA is that its sorrow is a different kind. With Wolf's Rain it was a "No, but ;__; Kiba . . . Toboe . . . Tsume . . . Hige . . . Blue . . . I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH; WHY, JUST, WHY"
But FMA has this sort of disturbing undertone to the sad elements, so it's just . . . the events are terrible, and then you cry because it's sad, too.
But with Coldest of Calendars, omg. I adore that song, and I feel incredibly lucky for that because I got it for free, on a sampler CD that came with Take This To Your Grave, and the piano is gorgeous (I adore piano), and the harmonization is so bittersweet, and the song really really really really makes me think about my otp.
Then again though, most songs do that to me. I'm in a bit of an obsession.
Sometimes I have these moments where I'm sitting there thinking about actions I just performed, and then I have this sudden disorienting jolt where it feels like I'm only in a dream and like whatever I just did wasn't something connected to me at all, like it was just something performed by a body that I happened to be occupying, and then I wonder at myself for a split second before everything feels normal again.
Oro really likes guitars.
I really like Apple products.
Ryuk and Steve Jobs might've gotten along. Maybe there should be fanfic where Steve Jobs is Kira instead of Light Yagami, and then it's Ryuk's fault that Steve dies, and instead of being a total jerk Light gets to be a completely normal (ish) teenage boy with a normal life who dies a successful policeman who never once did something illegal.
Eh, I don't know what sort of an interesting plot would come out of it though. And it wouldn't be very enjoyable if there wasn't some significant reason for the plot to be that way anyway.
I . . . I should be trying to sleep. I'm tired, and I need to wake up tomorrow.
Oh yeah, and I was supposed to be composing my schedule, too. -le sigh- Ah well. Good night, internet. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.
You know what's a beautiful word?
Cacography.
It means bad handwriting or spelling, and I'm just so thrilled that there's even a word for something like this. X3 I really hope I'll have the opportunity to use it someday. I could pull it on my family next time I read my younger siblings' papers in front of them or something. It'd be so fun.
Something else that's beautiful is my adorable dog. She looks so sweet when she dozes in my room. ;n;
My (relatively) clean floor is another beautiful thing. I mean, as you can see, it's sort of a meh color (at least a color I find meh). XD But for some reason I find it so lovely when the floor is actually clean. And despite the four things you see on it in this picture, well, it really is cleaner than usual, and I love it.
Aki is beautiful too. She's been working on her cosplay today, and the major parts of her Link cosplay is mostly done. :'DD There was so much beauty in the picture she sent me, with the different parts of it laid out on the floor and just asdfghjkl. Link. She's gonna be Link.
Cosplay in general is just something I adore. I'm not going to go into my philosophical thoughts about it because I honestly haven't bothered to make any; I just love the concept, and it's really asdfghjkling fun to take a sewing machine and a pile of fabric and turn it into a recognizable piece of a beloved character's wardrobe.
My dear Sophistication is another beautiful thing. c': I got a gift in the mail from her today: Looking for Alaska. I'VE BEEN WANTING TO READ THIS BOOK FOR A LONG TIME. (Sophi, if you're reading this, I already thanked you via IM, but all the same, thank youuuuuuuu. <3)
Tumblr is pretty beautiful, too. I made my own today, and it feels fantastic because I've been looking forward to this moment for a few weeks now. ^-^ I have no clue what I'm going to do with it (or myself) now that I have it, though. I suppose the only thing to do is try and keep the small streak of schoolwork-related productivity I've built while continuing to enjoy myself in life. Maybe I can even find a new way to reward myself if I keep up with the productivity . . . that could be fulfilling. Hmm hmmm hmmmm. I'll have to decide what, though.
Sophie is also beautiful because she . . . science. Oh my.
Sophie: shadow is a lovely girl Sophie: with an excited personality Sophie: perpetually amazed by the world Sophie: at room temperature, she is naturally above all normal atomic levels Sophie: she is a full 7, right before the stable 8 Sophie: prone to change, easy to react Sophie: malleable, colourful Sophie: dark, but always in light Sophie: since SH reacts very easily Sophie: it is often in the form of SHL Sophie: (reacting with L, obviously) Sophie: ionic compound, that
/abbreviated chat log
I sort of love science.
HECK I'M DONE TALKING. THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL, LET'S LEAVE IT AT THAT.
I didn't get to take my driver's test today, either, and I found that quite funny; the thought of explaining the situation to my friends made me burst out laughing. XD This is the third failed attempt, but this time it wasn't due to not being able to find my social security card or the ridiculous facility not being open on Monday; this time it was because I have a "medical condition that can cause me to temporarily lose consciousness." Wheeeee. So they gave us a form, which we took to my doctor, and we'll get a call from the doctor when she actually fills it out. My mum's estimating we'll have it back on Thursday.
At least this time we still have some bananas left, though, so I think it'll be okay. I might not need them, though; I'm hoping my nerves will have burned themselves out after three days of anticipating the test. But eh. ^^;
A number of interesting things happened today other than that, anyway, so I'll go ahead and list them all.
1. My baby sister was awake at five-thirty in the morning for some reason.
2. I was awake too. I like waking up early.
3. There's a lot of pretty people at our DMV.
4. Yellow-green is actually a sort of soothing color.
5. I have a lot of things on my to-do list.
Wash the chopsticks sitting lonesomely on my desk.
Make an actual profile (for more than one website :P).
Play (and beat) every Zelda game ever.
Cut my hair. :D
Have a fangirl.
Mail a pair of letters (one accompanied by a box full of awesome stuff) to two of my grandmothers.
Get married.
Answer all my PMs and emails.
Develop a way to type that involves nothing but a USB gamepad.
Draw more often.
Finish rereading the Inheritance cycle.
Give people the benefit of the doubt and don't overanalyze stuff.
Figure out what to name my Tumblr when I make one tomorrow. HONESTLY, WHAT THE HECK DO I NAME IT.
etc~
6. My sister, Annabelle, said to me today, "I'm gay Link! I love gay Link! He's so cool!" o_o
7. My other sister, Samantha, found volume 1 of Naruto on my shelf. She's actually reading it, and she actually recognizes Sasuke. <3 I'm proud of her.
8. Eh I don't have anything else to say.
I'm going to try not to worry about all my irrelevant rambling anyway because like I told a dear friend of mine recently, I feel better when I just say what I want to say rather than worrying about it or its wording or anything like that. So, HELLO PUBLISH BUTTON.
I do not particularly appreciate that my mom's lack of foresight and research has wasted a good portion of my time and efforts and energy. And bananas.
I suppose I could've taken the initiative too, but damn. ._. Why couldn't she have thought of this like twelve hours earlier?
So last night I spent time being nervous about today because I was supposedly going to be taking my license test. I went and took a shower before bed so my hair would look proper the today. Then I carefully arranged my schedule around having a good several hours cut out of my day since I didn't know how long I'd be at the driving facility place. I went to bed early so I'd be well-rested and able to get a lot done, then I woke up and wrote for a while before getting dressed in Matt's ribbed jeans and striped shirt and going to play DDR early. Then I had breakfast afterwards, which I usually don't, but my breakfast basically consisted of bananas because I didn't want to be collapsing with nerves when I went to take my test. Then I got my shoes on and waited for mom to get home from taking my brother to church, at which point she was going to take me to the driving facility.
Then, just, dammit. She told me to go check and see when they were doing tests and it turns out they're not even open on Mondays, and I'm incredibly pissed off because the contents of that whole paragraph above was wasted, and now we have no bananas left, and I'm going to have to go through the exact same thing all fucking over again tonight and tomorrow morning. ._.
I bet there won't even be any more bananas.
Damn this bloody nonsense.
. . . on a positive note, ACen is finally beginning to make guest announcements. The first one up is this visual kei band I've never heard of; I'm tempted to try and see them in concert just for the experience, even though I don't particularly care, which would be lovely to do if I'll have the spare time (and willing company) at the con—but I don't know if I will. I'm not certain whether Aki or Sophie or Rhi will be interested in seeing it, and it's uncertain whether Jenna will be coming, annnnd even if she is I don't know if she'd wanna see a visual kei concert either. But then, if there's other panels I'm thoroughly interested in at that point, or if I need food or something, lolol there's no way I'm gonna go. I'll probably just listen to them from out in the hallway or whatnot. ^^;
The con is going to be lovely, though. c: I'm excited about it, and they've also been releasing the programming schedule which is even more asdfghjkl exciting, and my cosplay is nearly done. I just need to get one or two more packs of fake cigarettes and then a couple PSP games; I won't be purchasing an actual PSP (thanks to my bloody mum), but Adam is lovely and he's letting me borrow his. <3 And then I'll also be borrowing Nicklaus' wallet with the chain on it so the chain can go and dangle off my right hip, seeing as Matt has something like that.And then the only other thing I'll need will be the haircut, but I'm not going to worry about that until a week or two before the con since I'm worried that if I cut it too soon, it'll just grow out and turn out improper. XD
It still feels like all that could be considered "a lot of work," but it's really really not. I've already finished all the hard parts of my cosplay—namely, the vest and the ribbed jeans, which both required a sewing machine—and I've also gone through with all the expensive and time-consuming parts, like finding the right goggles and gloves. After that, I feel ready. It's lovely.
Other things I have to do would be acquire a Nerf sword—specifically, the Marauder—and paint it so it resembles the master sword, and then I have to figure out what I'll need to make the Hyrule shield and then get those materials and assemble 'em. Cus Aki has commissioned me except not really since it's not like I'm a professional or working for pay or anything, but I'm going to call it commissioning all the same since it'll make me feel like I'm getting more adept (even if just by a bit) in making good cosplays. :D
Oh yeah, and then I'll also need money. Lots of it. Cus I'll have to pay for con merch, and if I'm driving us there then parking will also be my responsibility, and possibly gas money as well, and then emergency money would be nice in case we forget lunch, and just . . . yeah, the more the better; I spent a solid $200 at Anime World Chicago, and that was only a smallcon. I'm anticipating that Anime Central will have a lot more merch. The only thing saving me is that I may already have a lot of what I'd buy (like Death Note playing cards, Ouran messenger bags, wallscrolls, etc), so there might not be much there that I'd really need to bother with. But that's a maybe. You never know what you'll find.
Oh but I do hope there'll be good DN merch.
And I really hope I can get my computer signed by Vic Mignogna (assuming he really is going).
And I'm not sure I really dare to hope for it, but all the same, it would be so lovely if my mom acquired more bananas at some point today.
