Your Smile On Fire

     I. Finished. My. Novel.

     And now I have to start my next one. Which means finding another good topic, another main character, another imaginary world just the same as our real world. It's going to be hard to top Kris and Johnson though, hard to top Ash Creek. Hard to top what I think might actually be... good. Or at least not sucky?

     Wow. Did I just say that? About my own work?

     Either I've got an inflated ego or I'm getting better. Bets, anybody? Bets?

     Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oh, sorry. I'm awake, really I am. I've just got to quit staying up until midnight writing.

     In other news, I love this quote, and maybe I've wrote it in my blog before, but I've been thinking about it lot lately so it bears repeating.

     The word friends doesn't seem to stretch big enough to describe how we feel about each other. We forget where one of us starts and the other one stops.

--THE SECOND SUMMER OF THE SISTERHOOD

     I was looking a while back for a quote that could describe the relationship between us four. (Us four: me, my sister, and our two cousins [Lance Tankman and Reese's Pieces]) And I couldn't find one. But then I started reading the second 'traveling pants' book again and that quote leaped out at me. Because it describes us kind of perfectly - even when the four of us don't see each other for months it's still just like it always was when we get together. Like no time at all has passed. We immediately sink back into those old roles - I'm the "little mother", Reese's is "the baby", Lance Tankman is "the boy", and TayTay is... well, she's TayTay.

     And I miss them so much sometimes that it aches. I've been thinking of them an especial lot lately because of things that are going on, and I've been thinking that our lives are so different. So different that I don't even know how to relate to some of the things they go through, and I know they haven't been able to relate to some things I've gone through. There are some things that can't be explained, things that mere words don't do justice too. Feelings that you will never know until you experience them. Certain things that happen in life, they are beyond explanation. Too sad or too horrible. Too extreme. I think most people get that - there are certain boundaries in life, lines you don't cross.

     And you don't think about them. I mean, do you really have to remind yourself not to stick your hand IN THE FIRE? For most of us, the answer is no. Our hand in the fire will get burnt. It will hurt. We will be in pain. We don't like pain. So we don't do it. But then there are those times the normal boundaries, for whatever reason, get passed. Lines get stepped over. And that's when words fall short. Because some things just AREN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.

     Okay, sorry. I started talking about one thing (us four) and wound up talking about people sticking their hands in fire. My mind works in strange ways. But how did I get on that topic? Oh yeah... experiences you can't really understand until you go through them.

     Actually I was thinking about something else when I wrote that. I was thinking of this girl I knew back home. We'll call her Rainbow Fish. Anyways, I've known RF since kindergarten when we had the same wonderful teacher. We were never best friends, but we've known each other since we were five and, up until the time I moved away, had always hung out with more or less the same group of people. So we knew each other pretty well. And as far back as I can remember she was always saying she wanted to move away. Specifically she wanted to live in California. She was always looking forward to the time when she could go to college and get out of our little town. I was just the opposite. I loved our town and couldn't for the life of me figure out why someone would want to leave so badly, or what that would even feel like.

     And then I moved here. To this place everyone loves. To this place where the sun's always shining and the beach is thirty minutes away. And I know I'm a total anomaly, but I finally understand that feeling, that itch to get out. It's a weird feeling. Kind of antsy, a little restless, and also sorta sad. But I understand it.    

     I have a confession. I can't help it: I love The Hills. I realize this is sad and pathetic, but it's also true. There's something about watching people whose lives have even more drama than my own that's kind of reassuring. It's like, "Hey! At least I'm not them!" Anyways. I also have another confession, this one even worse. Sometimes I read Meg Cabot's blog. I know, I know... it's pretty awful of me to do that. But I do. Sorry.

     In other news, IT'S RAINING! AND IT'S BEEN RAINING ALL DAY! You have no idea how wonderful this is to me. I miss rain. I miss snow. I miss weather. Seeing water falling from the sky is good for me. But about my novel (yes, sudden, abrupt change of topic)... I think I may be stuck. Ahhh! This is very bad. Considering I'm so close and so impatient to read TWO-WAY STREET.

     Come to think of it, I should really be noveling right now.

     Wow. Okay, first off, bravo to Haley for attempting to write a novel of approximately 100k words. (Correct me if I'm wrong on that, Haley.) Because my goal is 50k, which I guess is okay since it's YA. It better be okay. But anyways, I was up until midnight last night working on it... the words were just flowing. So with all I wrote today I'm up to 41k. And I'm so excited!

     There's only one problem. I don't know how it's going to end! I mean, okay, yeah, I basically know how it's going to end up. I know where the main girl is going to end up and all... the only thing I don't know is what's going to happen with her and the main guy.

     And it's driving me practically insane. I mean, the author should know what's going to happen to her characters, right?

     In other news, NOBODY HAS HEARD OF SUPERFIRE. I asked one of my friends last night and then asked Mich today. Neither of them had heard of it. Please, somebody. Save me. Oh, wait, I also asked another one of my friends a few days ago and he hadn't heard of it either. I forgot about him. And nobody has heard of it. I swear it's a real movie...okay, yeah, it was a made-for-TV movie, but still.

     Ha. Okay, last night I was trying to think of songs that remind me of people/places/times. Like, songs that remind me of a specific something. And so I'm coming up with a list of them.

1. When I Think About Angels (Jamie O'Neal)
2. You're Beautiful (James Blunt)
3. 100 Years (Five for Fighting)
4. L.O.V.E. (Ashlee Simpson)
5. Girlfriend (Avril Lavigne)
6. Who We Are (Hope Partlow)
7. Stay Beautiful (Taylor Swift)
8. Teardrops on My Guitar (Taylor Swift)
9. The Funeral (Band of Horses)
10. Fly (Sugar Ray)

     And of course there are plenty more. But I listened to the opening lines to Teardrops on My Guitar. And, omg, it's just as sad as it ever was. So now I have to listen to Fly to cheer myself up. All of these songs have a story behind them and maybe some day I'll tell them. Some of the stories are good (Fly, Who We Are) and others are pretty sad (Teardrops on My Guitar, When I Think About Angels), and still others make me mad actually (L.O.V.E.).

     Anyways. I would write more but I really do need to work on my novel. Figure out this whole "relationship" thing and what will happen with it.

     Oh, and also, I really have been pretty happy lately. Good things are happening. Little good things and bigger good things, but basically just happy stuff.

     A blog in parts.

     Part one: TWO-WAY STREET

     Part two: today

     Part three: LA

     Part four: the REAL FRIENDS edition

     Part five: Dorky Pride Week

     TWO-WAY STREET is this book I bought that I am very excited about reading. So, as a punishment/reward/incentive for myself, I'm not reading it until I finish my novel. I'm up to 37k and counting. And no, this is NOT for nanowrimo.

     Today was good. Really good.

     The happiness factor of today came from many reasons. But one of the bigger ones was that-- Wait. That's not going to make any sense. It's a long story and would take immense back story. Going back to this girl I knew in sixth grade, seriously, that much back story. So I just won't even bother. Only know that I am happy, and that is a good thing.

     Yes! I am going to the LA party! Who else is? (Sam, are you?) Also, my friend and her mom might come with, so that's exciting. My California friend, that is. If they don't end up coming, it'll just be me, Mom, and my sister. But yay!

     And now for the REAL FRIENDS edition of my blog.

     I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Which, I know makes it sound like I've been thinking a lot about coupley relationships lately, but in reality I've been thinking about all sorts of relationships. Mostly friends though. And I've been thinking about the friends, the real true honest best friends you have, and what makes them that way and how you think of them. Specifically I've been thinking of their flaws. My best friends have a myriad of flaws; crazy, judgemental, stubborn, annoying, slightly superficial, just plain irritating at times, etc. They are not perfect people. And I was thinking about that, asking myself, Self, why are you friends with people who can be so judgemental and stubborn and irritating? And I'm still not entirely sure why, I just know that all the good stuff about them, their kindness, loyalty, humor, and compassion outweigh all of that. I mean, okay, complete honesty? Sometimes my friend's imperfections are all I can notice about them. They're being annoying or bratty or stubborn or whatever and I ask myself, Self, why am I friends with that person? And then I remember: it's because of their awesomeness. Because they listen to my crazy ramblings or they make me laugh when everything else in life is crazy or they give me a hug at just the right time, or they're just always there for me, or they're willing to hang out when no one else is.

     The reality is that everyone does things that bug other people and all of us have issues. I'm not perfect and my friends aren't perfect either. And I think accepting those flaws, those glaring imperfections, is a big part of what makes the really great friendships so great. When you don't ignore the fact that this person is the way they are, when you get mad at them and fight but you know no matter what happens, you'll still be friends because you care about them that much and the foundation of that friendship is just that strong. A real friendship is when you know who someone is (maybe not through-and-through because it takes some serious time and effort to know someone that well) and you can accept them, flaws and all, because the good stuff so outweigh the bad.

      And I know I said it wasn't about coupley relationships, but I think all that stuff I just said, about flaws and acceptance and all that, can also be applied to those sort of relationships. I have more thoughts about it but right now they're all just up in my head, refusing to come out. Sorries!

     I can't leave you without some quotes, can I? No worries. I won't. Today, in the spirit of the REAL FRIENDS edition of my blog, a quote for some of my REAL friends. And these are just the quotes that, when I wrote them down, I was thinking of someone in particular.

     Trust = telling someone about the things that make you sleepless. Or trying to, at least. Wanting to.

--I CAN'T TELL YOU

     The word friends doesn't seem to stretch big enough to describe how we feel about each other. We forget where one of us starts and the other one stops.

--THE SECOND SUMMER OF THE SISTERHOOD

     Why go through something alone when there's someone you trust to be with you?

--RED (sorry, I'm too lazy to find out what essay this one is from, but I know it was one of the twins')

     Lina loved her little sister so much that it was like an ache under her ribs.

--THE CITY OF EMBER

     And now I have to edit this post because I forgot one very important thing. Actually two. Number one, my dorky pride reference: quagmire triplets. And number two: AM I THE ONLY PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE WHO HAS SEEN THE MOVIE "SUPERFIRE"? I swear, my friends think I'm making this movie up. And I'm not, I'm really and truly not. IT EXISTS! So please, someone, save me... tell me you've seen it too!

      As is often the case, there are too many thoughts in my head tonight. Mich said, Be happy. Don't think; be happy. But telling me to not think is like telling me not to breathe: futile. Because, as she says and has said for years (and rightly so), I overthink everything. I think too much. I don't remember a time when I haven't been so analytical. Correction: so over analytical. Sometimes it bothers me. And not even so much the thinking-too-much part of it, but the there's-too-much-in-my-mind part of it. Probably one of the reasons I write so much - to get some of the stuff out of my head and somewhere else where it can stay.

     I've been keeping a journal since I was in fourth grade, and it's a pretty in-depth journal. I mean, I'm kinda anal about it. I have all these lists, and detailed crap about my feelings and what's going on in my head and in my life. Honestly, I can go back in my journals and know, pretty much to the day, when certain things happened. When was that awful sleepover? When did I go see Stranger Than Fiction with Meggo and those guys? If I wanted to, I could find out right now. But I digress. Until I wrote that essay, the one for RED, I didn't really realize what a release it could be writing about my life in a coherent fashion, something other people could actually understand. After that, I started writing more essay-type things about my life. About my friends and my so-called friends, my cousins and the move, and, of course, all the drama and the people involved. I found out that I like doing that, making the words about my life better than a journal entry but not as good as the essay I wrote for RED. Getting what I feel out on paper and looking at it, trying to make sense of it.

     I read THE BOYFRIEND LIST a long time ago, and it was really good. It sort of changed me, which probably sounds stupid to say about a YA fiction book that could easily be percieved as nothing but fluff. But it did. From reading the book I came to the same conclusion that Roo did: emotions are not in any way controlled by logic. I love this quote, from THE BOY BOOK,

     My problem is I can think whatever I think but I still feel the way I feel.

     And isn't that true, so completely true? I can think that it's stupid to compare myself to others, or to listen to what that one person says about me, or like that one guy, or whatever the issue may be. But knowing it's stupid doesn't change the feelings. So I decided I needed to make peace with my feelings. And I have. Mostly.

      I'm still working on it actually. It's a long process.

     Okay, question. I have a question, unrelated to anything else this blog is about. You know how in books the main character's thoughts are in italics? Okay, right. So when you read that out loud, how do you make it apparant that it's the character's thoughts? You can't exactly "show" italics with your voice, can you?

     I'm confused.

     Hi, my name is Jordyn and I'll be participating in DORKY PRIDE WEEK (thank you Saskia, for this wonderful idea). And seveteen quadrillion points if you get this reference without looking it up. (Respect the Honor System, people.)

     "Not the Craw... the Craw!"

     And now, for a list of books I do not recommend, with my deepest apologies to people who like these books.

1. BLOOM by Elizabeth Scott. (Sorry, I just can't get behind this girl cheating on her boyfriend, no matter what her "reasons" are.)
2. GOSSIP GIRL, the whole series. (You know how in AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES, Colin says that a Venn diagram of interesting people vs. people who read Celebrity Living would have no overlapping-ness? Well, that's pretty much how I feel about the GOSSIP GIRL books. Except that I have to admit it's not true, because lately Meggo's fell in love with the books. But still. It's a good idea.)
3. THE HOBBIT by That Tolkien Guy. (We had to read this in eighth grade honors English. My goodness it was boring. Play-doh* liked it, but that's to be expected.)
4. 1776 by Somebody Who Writes Books. (Despite my mother's claims that it is a VERY GOOD book, I refuse to read it.)
5. GOOD GIRLS by Someone Else I Don't Know. (Oh-my-gosh. I can't believe I read even the first chapter of this book. I read a bunch of reviews and I'm sure it did say some good things about our society and blah-blah-blah, but whatever. It was just too graphic.)
6. ANYTHING BY MEG CABOT!!!! THIS IS THE BIG ONE!!! (The exception to this rule is TEEN IDOL, and only by a very, very, very small margin. Am I the only one who thinks all of her stories/characters/plots are exactly the same? All the main characters are completely shallow, and every single book has to do with popularity. Ugh. Ick.)

     Again, my apologies if, you know, you liked one or more of the above books. Just giving my unsolicited opinions.

     *Oh, and you're probably wondering who Play-doh is, right? He was this guy in my school in Arizona. And, no, PLAY-DOH is not his real name. I'm not really using real names.

      Today's a very special quotes day. Because most of the quotes I want to share are from our very own book, RED! And they all knd of relate to how I've been feeling lately, to this seed of hope that's planted itself in me and the feeling of helplessness that doesn't want to let it grow.

     Our world is on the edge.

--from Meike Schleiff's essay, The "Beautiful" Cause of Death That Had Me Dying for a While

      I don't know about the rest of you, but my world is on the edge. My personal little bubble is tottering, ready to fall at any second. And I am the only one that can save it. I hate this. I hate this feeling I have inside me, this loneliness that won't go away. This strangeness I've never encountered before, this second-guessing of what I do and who I hang out with. It sucks. I'm at the point where I don't even try anymore. I have my friends, in different states though they may be, and I have my parents and myself. My world is very, very small. And I'm sick of trying to make it bigger because obviously it's not going to happen. Not in anything more than the most superficial of ways at least, and I don't want that. I want friends who are actually friends, not just people I know well enough to smile and say "hi" to even though they really don't care.

      But that's not happening.

     The memories have become fuzzy around the edges, as all of them do, glorified in a process that began the moment we stepped onto the plane, away from the messy success of finding ourselves.

--from Erika Kwee's essay, East

     I'm sure I tend to romanticize things from my "before" life, remembering them better than they actually were. Sometimes the memories make it seem like things were perfect, which is far from true. But things that were bad were bad in a different way. The struggles were external, not internal. Health problems, wildfires, that sort of stuff. Not this internal sadness, this loneliness I don't even know how to categorize. This stuff is harder to deal with because that other stuff, I just pushed through it, remembering it would all be over in a matter of time. But this... this I have to work at, have to find the solution to, have to accept, deal with, and, if possible, fix.

     Ordinary girls have the power to be truly extraordinary.

--from Dani Cox's essay, Ms. President

     This sentence is very empowering. And not in a rah-rah-blah-blah sort of way, but in a better way. It reminds me that I can, you know, get through this stuff. That this phase of my life isn't going to last forever and that maybe if I just don't let it bother me... or at least, not outwardly let it bother me, things could change.

     Ha. I know that's a lot to ask, thinking just by it not outwardly affecting me, it could actually change for others. But it's a nice thing to think anyways, and worth trying.

     I know I'm talking cryptically. I do that a lot. Sorries. But I just felt like I had to write about this stuff. So there you have it.

     I'm thinking right now about perfect moments. You know what I mean. Those seconds, infinitely small frames in time that you wish you could freeze in a snapshot. Sometimes these moments, after enough time goes by, fade away. They take a backseat to all the other stuff in your mind; the math tests and friends' phone numbers and more recent memories. But some of them, the really special ones, remain forever.

     My first perfect moment, I remember, was the day I turned four years old. I think. I could have been turning three... I'm not sure. In any case, I woke up early, so early it wasn't entirely light out yet, and went into the living room, where my parents were sitting, just talking, with the window behind them and snow, that fairy tale white stuff, falling in the background. I don't know what it was, whether the lull of their voices or the fact that I was turning four (or three) or the snow outside, or a combination of the three. But somehow, that moment was so perfect and I was so amazingly contented, that I've never forgot it.

     The second perfect moment was later. I was seven, living in Texas, and driving in the car with my dad. In that blue car we used to have. (Or was it green? My memory fades; it was a long time ago.) I don't remember where we were going or what we were doing, but I do remember that song Fly by Sugar Ray playing over the radio. And I remember being very, very happy. Not the quiet, contented sort of happy I was in my first perfect moment, but the sort of bursting-at-the-seams happy. The OMG-this-is-crazy sort of happy.

     Since then, there've been more perfect moments. Sitting with my cousin Lance Tankman (ha! not his real name) at the anniversary party none of my friends were at, my and Mich's inside joke at the Subway by the beach, climbing the rocks. And so many before that, too many to think of that happened before. I should really try to write them down sometime, keep a record of little moments like that. Moments that make the rest of life and all the crap I go through sometimes, worth getting through.

     Okay, so last time I wrote I told you guys about my quote book. And so now I'm actually going to go into the book.

     Ha. Okay, this is just the quote I flipped to. It's not one of the ones that really spoke to me... I just found it hilarious for some reason.

     Something about this boat screamed, "I am a very popular model in the world's oil-bearing regions. I cost more than your soul!"

--GIRL AT SEA

     Ha. Love that. But now I should probably find one of the more serious ones, right?

     "After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out - but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it."

--LOOKING FOR ALASKA

     I remember when I copied this quote down I was sitting on the grass on one of the "greenbelts" (I always wonder why they call them greenbelts... it makes no sense, but that's not the point.) and I was thinking some really serious thoughts, thinking that the Colonel (the character who spoke those words in LFA) was right. Thinking that no matter what crap was going on then or would go on in the future, I choose the labyrinth. I choose this life, much as it sucks sometimes and as much as sometimes we all think it couldn't get worse... and then it starts raining. (Although actually I love the rain, so that analogy doesn't actually work for me.)

      Okay. Another quote? Fine then.

     Different people were good at different things. Lena was good at writing thank-you notes, for instance, and Effie was good at being happy.

--THE SECOND SUMMER OF THE SISTERHOOD

     Sigh. LOVE THAT QUOTE. It's so good, so true. I always felt sorry for Lena, who had everything in the world except happiness. And, okay, I know all you TEAM KOSTOS girls will disagree with me on this one, but I didn't really think Kostos added any happiness to her life. Instead he made her miserable; she hurt when she was with him and she hurt when she wasn't. She hurt when he loved her and she hurt when he broke her heart. I'm obviously no expert, but I don't think love should do that to you, I don't think it should mess you up like that.

     But, sorry. I get on a tangent about Kostos when I start talking about the Traveling Pants. Anyone want to offer the opposing veiwpoint? Anyone? Feel free too. (Also tell if you want more quotes! I have many!)

     (Also... I heart comments. Seriously. Thank you Zulay and Jocelyn, whose name is not at all awful.)

     I spent a little while today reading over some old emails I sent Mich. From over a year ago, from the beginning of 2006 almost. Eesh. I really do tell her everything. It was cool reading it... not so much the big stuff, but the smaller things. Those tiny random moments, moments I'd nearly forgot about until I read them in my old emails. (If you're wondering why I was reading my old sent emails... um... I can't actually remember why. To be honest, I probably didn't even have a reason.) Anyways, all those little moments, the little insignificant seconds in life that make your day.

     Like when I went to get my haircut and the lady asked if I'd ever modeled. I remember now, having to stop myself from laughing because it's such an absurd thought to me. Me, modeling. That is impossible. And the idea that someone would think I could, um... it's just a little crazy. And anyways, it was one of those moments that made my day. Maybe that sounds weird. I don't know. A lot of times I think I type or say things that only make sense to me and no one else.

     In other news, I'm watching Spider-man 3. Um. I'm a big huge fan of the first two... but this movie is just a little bit weird. Seriously. What's with that guy made out of sand? And the weird little creepy black things that attack Peter Parker? (As a side note, do you ever notice how superheroes have the best names ever? Clark Kent. Peter Parker. And I can't remember Batman's name right now, but I remember that it's awesome. How come real people don't have such awesome names?) (I take it back, actually. I do know some real-life people with awesome names.) But I digress. Sorry for getting off on that tangent... I'm a sucker for names. Names, titles of movies and books and songs. Lines in movies and books and songs, quotes I find amazing. I have this notebook, bought it for an outrageous price at Borders a while back. Anyways, this notebook, I copy quotes I love from different books in there. It's nice looking back and reading them because in a really weird way, some of them (some, not all) are reflections, in a way (a weird way) of what was happening in my life at that time.

     In any case, the tuna casserole should be done by now. So I should go.

Correction: I tried to change my avatar so it's a picture of myself. But for some reason it won't change. Oh well.

I really need a job. Why? One word: books. I made a list, while I was in New York, of a whole bunch of them that I want to buy. THE LIST HAS FIFTY TWO BOOKS ON IT!! And you know what you need to buy things? Money. Know what I don't have? Money.

So yeah. I need to get a job. Soon, hopefully.

Okay. Now I have to upload my mom's New York pictures (she used the camera; I wouldn't because it is a piece of junk) onto the computer.

Okay, so I changed my avatar so it's actually a picture of myself. So you know who I am if you met me in NY. (Hi Erika and Jaclyn and Hayley and Jasmine and Lisa and Dani and Eliza and Annie and Maya and Olive and Emily and DeppGirl whose actual name I've forgotten and Zoe and all the girls whose names I am kicking myself for not remembering.)

Crud. I actually did have something to say but typing all those names made me forget. Um. Hi.

I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense. I got back here to where I live and immediantly my sore throat came back. Nice.

What to write about, what to write about...

I have these things I've been writing, little snippets (sp?), beginnings of stories, and I feel like writing them in this blog. But then I think maybe not. And then I think maybe yes. I'm in a quandry with it.

The five of us hadn't spoken in years. The last time we'd all been together was when I was in eighth grade. Still obsessed with Hello Kitty and had a subscription to Girls' Life.

Not like I hadn't thought about them since then, hadn't wanted to write or visit. But what could I say? What words were there? Time is supposed to be the great healer, erase memories and let you quit caring. But it doesn't. Or it didn't at least, not for us.

I still had the rag dolls Gwen had made me sitting up there on my bookshelf, in plain sight. I still thought of them whenever I heard YMCA, and I couldn't look at a dandelion without missing them. But although time didn't make things easier to forget, it did make them harder to overcome. Hess went to juvy and a month passed during which Rainey's parents split and made her choose between her mom in LA and her dad in New York. Mike's grandpa got sick and my family moved while him and Gwen went to a funeral and mourned.

Too much had happened. That one month turned into two, and then three, and we were all busy. Adjusting to new lives and finding new friends. We didn't have the time or the words to make everything that happened all better. We were growing up, moving on, entering new phases of our lives. And it's no excuse, any of it. The reasons aren't good enough to warrant four years going by without anything between us. I know that now and I knew it then. It sounds cliche, but not one single solitary day went by where I didn't think of them, didn't miss them and comtemplate, even for the briefest of moments, calling one of them.

Hess, maybe, to find out if his weeks in juvy made him worse or better. Did he regret the one mistake he'd made to get there, or was he making more of the same kind of mistakes?

And what about Mike? What about Gwen? Did they know I was sorry for their grandpa even though I'd never said it? Did Mike know I missed him... did he miss me too?

Sorry for ending in such an inconveinent place, but that's all I have. I typed it up on the 'notebook' function of my phone between classes and it's the beginning of a story (novel) I've been thinking of for a while now. Maybe I'll add more later.

But to be honest, most likely I'll end up posting tons of beginnings of things, and never middles or endings.

Ha. Sorry about that.

The backstory: So before this site actually opened up I was one of the beta-testers.

And I wrote some pretty personal stuff. Like, really personal.

So now I'm starting over, starting new like everyone else is.

Thing is... I don't know what to write.

Everything is personal, right? Like Meg Ryan's character says in You've Got Mail (my all-time favorite movie, bar none), "I am so sick of hearing 'it's not personal'. What does that even mean? It just means it's not personal to you. But it's personal to somebody."

For the record: everything I wrote before was personal to me. Very.

But from now on, the new blog rule is that I won't write too personal. Some personal, sure, because everything is. But not too much. And also, just like before, I'm not using anyone's actual name. NICKNAMES! Yay!