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It's still Spring Break.

This is where the audience stops and gasps because Gwen is posting TWICE in one week. The audience may also be shocked, possibly appaled.

I have now had my first professional haircut. Apparently, at twenty years old, the fact that this was only my first professional haircut is a real crime. I'm still trying to figure out if I like the cut. I think I could, but I'm not sure exactly how to style it yet. The experience itself was a little more tense than I would like. It was kinda fun watching all my hair just kinda fall away, but it was really strange having someone other than my mother cut my hair. And I was seriously shocked by the way the stylist bumped my hair up in the back. I couldn't have felt more sixties. Well, okay, I could have, because I didn't have the costume from Hairspray, but you know what I mean...

And then, directly afterwards, I had my first pedicure. My toes are sparkly purple. And they had us sit in massage chairs while they did our nails. I liked the massage chair. I think I can do without my toes being painted.

I feel somehow, very... low class? I dunno... These are supposed to be luxury things that you do for yourself. I don't think I appreciated them nearly as much as the people I was with.
One day, someone who knows me later in life is going to stumble across this blog and wonder what the heck was going on with me. There is no rhyme or reason to when I post here. The major crises do not initiate entries. In fact, it seems like the quiet moments initiate entries. Maybe I get bored. Maybe I need the quiet to remember that this blog is here.

But, I'm here. Back, I guess. I don't know for how long.

I'm on Spring Break. And yes, that's a quiet time for me. I was going to roadtrip with my best friend. We were going to hit some of the southern states, maybe a beach or two, see her friends, party as much as the two of us ever do. But that didn't really pan out. My best friend decided to stay behind at school to work on her thesis and some other papers. So, I hit the southern states by myself. :)

Well, I hit one southern state, anyway. I hit Tennessee and I've been visiting with my sister for the last few days. She works at Starbucks (and makes an awesome cappuccino) and so I've been coming to Starbucks with her on her eight hour shifts every morning and using the internet and just generally hanging out. We go out with her friends in the evening (or have, every day so far) and have a lot of fun. I'm not sure if this is how her life usually is, but it's pretty fun. I can think of a lot worse ways to live.

Schools been going pretty okay. I love all my classes this semester, although there's homework coming out my ears. I usually stay up until at least two every day trying to get it all done. And it's all fun, so I don't have much of a problem with that, although when I stay up til four or later, it's a little ridiculous (and usually my own fault for having hung out with friends earlier or something).

Friends are all good. There's some drama going on, left over from the very end of last semester, but I think most of us have just stopped caring and it's hopefully on it's way out. Everyeone is happy and healthy and still together with whatever significant others that they had as of the last entry I posted on here. The Seniors are freaking out about graduating, setting up jobs in the outside world, etc, and the Juniors are freaking out about being Seniors next year. The Sophmores are just freaking out that we're freaking out and we're all having a grand old time of it. lol.

I have a crush on a guy. I see him three times a week for class and it's always a very bright part of my day. He's funny, he's got a great smile and I love talking with him. Can't seem to figure out how to get him to ask me out. I invited him to a movie the other day, and he accepted and we had a good time. Then he invited me to a movie and I thought it was a date, but then he invited one of our professors too.  *confused face* I'm not really sure how this is gonna go.

And writing... Um... I'm not really sure where to begin with what's been going on for writing. I wish I could say that it's been going reall well. But it's more been stumbling along:

L'ira has changed her name so many times it's not even funny. Now, she's decided to change her identity as well. I'm not even sure you'd recognize her as being the same person as the original character from the first draft. That's not a problem, but it's weird. The title no longer fits. Some of the drama I was going to give my characters no longer fits. Aeroan actually has both his parents for the first time ever. And he's not a Clan Lord. And...  I dunno.

I think it all stemmed from me trying to decide what the important themes in the story were. I've been trying to pare down the story because it's just too complicated to put everything I have on paper. I have a full world. I understand it, but I have forced my storyline to rest on ALL of that information, and that's too much to put on paper. It'sbeen making trying to write the first few chapters a nightmare. The normal themes were pretty apparent: belonging, loyalty, friendship, indentity... but then my brain latched onto this one concept and would not let it go:


What was it like to live among a group of people, but never really belong to it? L'ira's concept was always that she was attatched to certain people, not to the Clan itself. She stayed because she loved Aeroan, Kavan, Danic, Connell,  ShatterIron. She stayed because she respected Ryden, Lainan, Ehren. The Visaden, as a whole, have no tie in her heart. So what happens when the Visaden go to war? Especially if Aeroan is NOT Clan Lord? Does L'ira fight for them? Fight for her crew? What happens when her ship sinks? Does she still fight for the Visaden? When she gets kidnapped by the Visaden's enemies, how much does she really fight back? And does she fight back because they oppose the Visaden, or because they remove her freedom?

I've played with the idea before that some people might like being Clanless. A while back, I gave Danic a friend like that so that there would be a reason some of the crew would agrue to give L'ira the choice of what she wanted to be. I'd never considered that maybe L'ira might take the choice and revel in it, that maybe she might greatly enjoy the freedoms granted to her because she doesn't belong.

It's really funny, considering I've always loved this idea of what everyone does with the boxes that they're regulated to. Some people will live happily in that box, because they don't know anything else. or, they'll live happily in that box because they have seen the outside and they sincerely like that box better. Others will fight to get out of that box all thier lives. Some will be too scared to fight. Others will demolish that box until it is unrecognizable and never look back. Some might look back and wonder what it would have been like to stay inside. And still others (and this was always the most interesting to me) will manipulate the box.

There is a type of person (that I dearly wish I could be) who allows other people to set the confines and dances between them.  The person knows the rules, the boundries, but has learned to use them to thier own advantages. In a way it's following the letter of the law, but not the intent. And in the wrong hands that could be exactly what it is: twisting and distorting the laws until they are wrong and backward. But in the right hands... It's very Dark Knight or Secret Avenger.

Except L'ira doesn't have that thirst for justice, so she's a little different than that. But I really like the idea of her not being Visaden and being happy that she's not. She has no need to follow thier laws and customs. She's already outcast, so she can do taboo things and it doesn't have any more effect.

But making her that requires an entire change in who her friends are, what her goals are.Her very relationship with Aeroan comes into question. Maybe she doesn't expect it to last forever? Maybe she's just waiting for him to find the perfect wife and move on from her? Is it a surprise when he waits for her? Is she shocked out of her mind when she realizes he's not just day-dreaming, but actaully  wants her for a wife?

It changes everything. It makes her much more interesting to me. MUCH. She's not Jenny yet, but she's getting there.
So, just because I realized that I'll be a lot happier as a wild child, it doesn't mean that the rest of the world changed over night.

I'm back at school. So is the drama. I apparently have managed to tick somebody off already and I'm not sure how. She showed up at lunch and said hi to everyone at the table except me. And she was pretty obvious about it. I don't know whether I care enough about it to even try to figure out what's going on. We've never really been friends, we've just always had mutual friends. We don't have much in common. Most days I don't want to put up with the kind of junk she pulls. She's not a terrible person, she just takes herself too seriously, wants a certain reputation and doesn't really do anything to earn it. And I know this is one of those cases where we're more alike than either of us would like and we get ticked at each other's mistakes.

My friends and I are all basically living in four apartments this year and we named the apartments after the four Hogwarts houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Probably not the smartest idea.

The girl that's mad at me is in Slytherin House. I'm in Ravenclaw. All the Slytherins have been mad at me at one time or another. I don't know whether that says something about them or me or both. Probably both.

But now I have to decide whether it would be better to try to talk to this girl, or just sit back and wait for it to blow over. Decisions, decisions. And I'm the first Ravenclaw back at school. It would really be helpful if the others were here for me to talk to.

I don't suppose anyone's listening...

... so I don't suppose it makes any sense to apologize for not posting yet again.

I finished the Fall semester of my Junior year. I passed the Fall semester of my Junior year. Our short term starts the day after tomorrow, during which I will be writing 50,000 words. Sound like a familiar challange? *grins*

I keep coming back to this, thinking there is something I should be writing. I think, this is a journal, just for me, no one else even has this address, and I should be able to say anything I want. Yet... Something else keeps coming up at the back of my mind that if I write it down... someone will find it. Someone that I don't want to find it.

And the truth is that I'm angry right now. A lot more than I should be. At a lot more people than I should be. It should be easy to just let it go. It should be easy to say that it doesn't matter in the long run, because it's over and I've dealt with it. I've done everything that there is to be done. Except move on. Except stand in front of them and cry and scream and make them understand how much they've hurt me. And yet, if they were standing in front of me right now, I wouldn't say a word, I'd just turn around and walk away, because I know they'll never do what I want them to do. Screaming at them will just hurt me more.

I keep thinking about who I am and who I want to be. Two things keep coming up. I want to write, publish, have an awesome time crafting stories and have all sorts of time to work on them. And I want to be wild. Not entirely. I want my own set of laws about what matters. I want to be able to go and do. I want to be one of those girls that you just look at and know they're alive. I want to dance in the rain, skate backwards at the roller skating rink, climb mountains, run just for the heck of it, and grin because there's no reason not to. I've spent so long trying to convince myself that jumping from place to place, thing to thing, is a bad thing. But if this is my nature, then what's wrong with it? If I live in extremes, is that really a crime? Instead of trying to make myself into something that I'm not, wouldn't it be better to just make me a better version of me?

I was a different person this summer. I was someone that I never thought I could be. Dad worries about me too much, for me to take those kinds of risks. Mom tries too hard to get me to think rationally, only really understands my reasoning when I can lay out the pros and cons for her. But they didn't know half the things that I did last summer. It was like I could step out of my own life and have three months that existed outside of my own timeline. And then I came back to school and there were remnants of that girl still around. I didn't know how to make her jive with a girl who prided herself on being able to tell her parents everything she'd been doing since she got to college. But things have happened that make me think that I don't have to hide things from them, just take the time to understand that they're not going to understand immediately. And I really want to be the girl I was last summer. She made mistakes, but who doesn't? And if I'm going to make mistakes, wouldn't I rather make big mistakes than little ones? Would I rather say I lived, than that I survived?

Maybe this is all idiotic rambling, but it's where I'm at right now. I'm at the point where mistakes don't matter. And I'd rather laugh than wish I'd laughed. I'd rather jump than hang back. And I'd rather run after something than wait around looking for something that's really worth the risk.

So... call me crazy (I'll take it as compliment if you do), but this is the way I'm living my life.

Random quote of the day:
My R.A.:"It's quiet out there... Maybe they all went to sleep."
Me: "Or, they're all zombies."
My R.A.:"I hope not. I don't want to do the paperwork on that."

Life really isn't what you expect.

Every time I turn around something new is coming my way. I have done things in the last month and a half that I never would have dreamed of before. Like walking into a professor's office - a creative writing professor's office, no less - and informing him that I would not do his assignment. That's not usually my style. But then, neither was his assignment.

I haven't written anything on my novel since I got to school. I think that's okay. I'm getting my head on straight, getting my feet under me again. And I want to be writing, just not that story right now. It needs a rest.

NaNoWriMo is coming up very quickly. I need to sit down and outline my newest novel idea so that I can just dive in when November starts, but I think I've got all those kinks worked out. At least, I have the beginning, the end and bits and pieces of the middle. It should all fall together if I just power through it enough. I'm excited. And it feels really nice to be excited about a story, with enough room to wiggle around and find what works for the plot and what doesn't.

I need more sleep, as always. School robs me of it, because there's always something that I want to be doing more than lying down and getting rest. There's always something that I think would benefit me more, or that just sounds more appealing.

But I want to go back to writing on this blog every day. I want to go back to some sort of discipline. I need to be good at that. I want to be good at that.
Life is never the way you think it'll be. Worse, it's rarely the way you hope it will be. It's hard to tell how to deal with tomorrow, because it will either be immensely better than you expect, or immensely worse. Hard to tell, hard to hope, hard to act.

If I sold this guitar and a piece of my heart
For you
Would you hop on a bus and leave just because
Would you?
Are these dreams overrated?
Running from myself...

I used to be somebody else.

Day 16:

I don't really know whether there's something wrong with me, or something wrong with the world. It's been days and days since I wrote, and now I'm combing back through the things that I wrote in the last three weeks and I'm trying to rewrite it. I'm beginning to think that I'm just impossible to please. I can't tell you the number of restarts that I have of this novel. I can't figure out why I keep becoming dissatisfied with it.

Either way, my word count is suffering. I don't know how to calculate it exactly. I did write 16,000 words, but I'm back down to 1,600. And I should have 26,000.  I keep thinking, "Hey, this is me we're talking about! I wrote 72,000 words in thirty days once!" But the person that wrote all that seems very far away right now, when I'm struggling to move beyond square one.

Picasso said that every child is an artist. The problem lies in trying to remain an artist as one ages. I think he was probably a little crazy on most counts, but he was right about this. I've never been consistent about much (it's not in my nature). But when I was ten, I at least always loved writing.

I feel like I'm moving backwards in my reading too. I made up my mind to stop reading The Fox by Sherwood Smith, even put it down and picked up the next book on my list, and then went back. For some reason, I couldn't let The Fox sit around unfinished. I wish I had the same sort or weird drive concerning my own stories.

She is running
A hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying
But the canyon's ever widening
In the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another
misadventure just to find
She's another two years older
And she's three more steps behind

Day 11:

I caught up on wordcount yesterday. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm happy that I did.

Also, I just ordered Hawk Nelson's summer ep. *happy Gwen* I ordered a t-shirt while I was at it, because I've been wanting it for a while and it just seems wrong to me to pay for 3.99 shipping on a four dollar CD. So... yeah... I paid 4.99 shipping on a nineteen dollar purchase instead. I never claimed to make sense.

Last night I started working through my Jenny and Bess story with my Dad, trying to shine it up so that I can send it out and try to get it published. I'd wanted to start work on it earlier in the summer, but we never got around to it. We went over the entire first chapter, reading it back and forth to each other and now I just have to make all the changes. lol.

I'm considering not finishing The Fox (Sherwood Smith). I feel kind of bad about it, because I really adore some of her other books and I want to adore this one. I just can't. I have one character that I really like, and I only hear about her every twenty pages or so. I've read 250 pages already and there's 550 left to go. It doesn't seem to move very quickly. And, I mean, I'm still in the first half of the book, it's probably still set up. But it's 250 pages of set-up! Gah. Anywho.

Word Count as of yesterday: 16,795

Goal for today: 18,462
Day 10:

"Better incentive" and "best incentive" do not work. Time for ME to work.

Word count as of yesterday: 12,583 (2,420 behind)

Goal for today: 14,250

Day 9:

No imaginary cookies. No imaginary pie. I'm going to have to come up with better incentives. lol.

Yesterday didn't go so well, but I still wrote. I got up early this morning to write some more, but I didn't get too far. I suppose I should be happy just to move, but it's not in my nature to be happy with breaking even. I guess I'll just have to make it part of my nature to go above and beyond as well.

I started a big fight between two of my main characters yesterday. It was surprising how emotional it was for me. My main character developed a lot of issues that she didn't have before. The more I write for her, the more messed up she becomes. First, she's been abandoned by her parents. Then she's been abandoned and has no rank whatsoever. Then one of her oldest "friends" won't let her forget that. Then that crosses over into fighting with her boyfriend. Then she thinks that she killed her teacher. Then she thinks that she's been abandoned because her parents were frightened of her.

Geez. Either I'm messed up, or I've finally gleaned the apptitude for torturing characters from my friends. Either way... lots of great conflict here.

Lots of conflict I will need to resolve at some point. *head/desk*

Word Count as of yesterday: 11,572 (1,764 behind)

Goal for today: 13,239 (better incentive if 15,003, best incentive if 16,549)

You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless
Like you've lost your fight
But you'll be allright, you'll be all right

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, 'til you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand.
Then you stand.