I got this award thing at church today. It’s part of my church’s youth program, but it’s not really something you win. It’s something young women aged 12 to 18 earn. I’ve been working on mine since I was 12, and to get it I had to complete about 10 or so goals each year between 12 and 16, and then between 16 and now I had to complete four projects that required at least 20 hours of work per project. So, it’s a pretty big deal. It was pretty nice. One of my old seminary teachers showed up as a surprise, which was really sweet. She drove in all the way from Arlington at 7:00 in the morning to be there. She’s so nice; she was the best religion teacher I’ve ever had. Also, one of my youth group leaders from Arizona was there, which was really fantastic.
And, it also got the bishop to say “Harry Potter” over the pulpit on Easter. Is that blasphemous? Hehehe. (He was just talking about my projects, one of which I counted as the whole PotterWar thing. That certainly took far longer than 20 hours, so I think it counts.)
We played games all afternoon, but I’ve been dead tired ever since I woke up. I had to wake up at 7:00am this morning after waking up way too early yesterday and going to bed way too late. I almost fell asleep standing up this morning.
Later in the afternoon I got a notebook full of cute letters from a lot of my friends. :) I started giggling when I saw one from my friend Chris — I had just talked to him, saying “Guess what? I got this award at church!” He was so good; didn’t spill any beans and just congratulated me like normal. Good work, Chris. :) I also got one from another good friend, Sabbrielle, saying maybe this award will help me meet “Greggers” so I can finally send out those hilarious wedding invitations. Hehe, I think I’ll wait a bit for that. But if Greggers wants to show up and start giving me lovely presents and paying me to go travelling with him, I’d think that’s lovely. :)
Okay, everything else I’m trying to write I’m having to erase because it’s just too crazy. I think I need to get some sleep now. If this entry didn’t make sense it’s not my fault. It’s sleep deprivation. Yeah. Thank goodness I can sleep in tomorrow like crazy, wake up whenever I want when the breeze comes in through my window, and then fall out of bed. I might even decide, after doing that, to just lay on the floor for a while. Geeze, there I go again, just babbling into nothingness. I’m going now, good night.
Yesterday was just non-stop motion from 7:30am to 10:30pm. We had to drive up to Maryland to see an old friend from Arizona get married, and that took until 11:00. Another friend from Arizona is staying with us for the wedding, so after the wedding we took her into downtown DC to go to the Washington Cathedral. The Cathedral was lovely, except we couldn’t get into the nave because they were decorating for easter. That was somewhat disappointing, but okay. We spent quite a bit of time in the bishop’s garden, which was quite lovely. I want one. :)
After the Cathedral my mom and her friend wanted to go see the cherry blossoms. We drove down Wisconsin Ave. and as soon as we got to 14th street it was jam-packed. It took us an hour to get from the intersection of 14th and L Street down to Constitution Ave, and then back to 14th again to get across the bridge. We even took a shortcut. The traffic was that bad, honest. It was mostly because there were hundreds of tourists everywhere, as well as a huge protest against the United States’ actions with Israel and all that. It was some big Palestinian group, and man was it a raucus crowd. People were screaming, yelling, and spray painting things. That really bugs me. Up in liberty plaza they spray painted “peace” all over the place. Look, if you want peace, tell the Palistinians to quit bombing the Israelis. Heck, tell the Israelis to quit bombing the Palistinians. The whole thing’s just a mess. Jon Stewart summed it up well on the Daily Show when he went on and on, recounting which bombings were in retaliation for what, going all the way back to the early 80’s. It’s really true.
A lot of people ask me who’s side I’m on in that conflict. Honestly, I don’t like either side. They’ve both done some horrible things to each other, and I think that keeps either side from being “right”. As for the land they both want, they’re never going to agree on anything. I say the UN should pull a King Soloman and say, fine, neither of you are getting it since you can’t decide. Just like that whole splitting-the-baby-in-two thing to find out who was the real mother. Yeah.
I’m getting so tired of politics and bombings. Everyone should just eat a cookie and behave.
The article. I’ll warn you, it’s graphic. But it’s an eerie kind of graphic. It’s so emotionless. There’s no spin on the story, no sobbing women to tell of the horrific things they experienced. Just the facts. This story happened in 1988, and I must say, I haven’t cried like this since I visited Dachau when I was 13. I couldn’t read the last three fourths of the story. I have to sleep some time tonight and right now I’m far too worked up to sleep.
I’m tempted to mail that link to that group at that University in Massachusetts. Shame on them for forgetting the Gulf War. Shame on them for forgetting just how awful it was. But it only leads me to one conclusion. When will we forget about September 11? How long will it take for protesters to start saying we just need to hand Osama bin Laden a daisy and everything will be all better? It’s already starting. How can we forget so easily?
Just like my brother said on his blog. Just imagine your family dying from nerve gas and you won’t forget. Read those descriptions in that article about the real tears of blood, and I swear you will never forget why we’re so bent against handing Saddam his final sentence to death row. 10 years has Saddam been working on a way to deliver that horrific gas to American soil. How long do we have to wait for the inevitable? I hate to sound so doomsday-ish, but isn’t that what all those tests were for? I can’t think about this anymore, I have to get some sleep.
Lots to talk about today. Hope I can remember it all. But first, a rant, because I just got a disturbing email.
It was about this thing that some University in Massachusetts is trying to organize. They want teenagers to come speak in contrast to the whole ‘Axis of Evil’ thing; “in particular, about Iraq.” I’m sorry to all you people from Iraq out there, but I think that’s just plain crap. I don’t think all people from Iraq are bad, I just think your government needs to be ousted. This email was particularly disturbing because just earlier this evening my brother told me about an article he read today that he says, “was the most depressing thing I’ve ever read.” And how coincidental, it was about Iraq. But what in particular about Iraq? Genocide. Saddam Hussein has been testing things and bombing things and releasing things, killing his own people. Whole villages. Women, children, husbands, fathers, mothers, wives. Completely unsuspecting, law abiding people. I don’t know all the details from the article, but believe it or not, I remember the Gulf War. I remember watching the news with all the information about Saddam and how Old Papey Bush would purposefully mispronounce his name. I remember in particular driving through my old neighborhood after being picked up from kindergarten, asking my mom if Dad would have to go to war. I didn’t quite know at that time what my father did in the Air Force, but all I knew was he worked at the Pentagon, and according to movies and television, that’s where work was dangerous. And then there were the rumors on the news. Military men getting pulled from their desk jobs to go fight the Man in Iraq. I was scared. In my little kindergarten head I thought my daddy had to fly his F4 to Iraq and get killed, all because of this man named Saddam. And now some crazy people in Massachusetts are trying to say that he doesn’t belong in the ‘Axis of Evil’? I’m sorry, that phrase may sound funny, but it fits. Saddam has had his fun, he’s caused enough trouble, I say it’s about time he meets the consequences of his actions. I think those consequences should come knocking on his door, leaving just enough time for him to open the door, say hello, and then have the crap bombed out of him. I’m sorry, but peace isn’t the answer here. We can’t hand Mr. Hussein a daisy and hope that he’ll see the pain in that crying indian’s eye and suddenly see the horror of his actions. Don’t you think he’s been handed bouquets of flowers for decades already? Has he responded to those? No. There’s a time for diplomacy. There’s a time for peace talks. But in some cases, those don’t work. Then it’s time for a serious spanking. He’s already recovered from the last spanking, and clearly he hasn’t had an appropriate attitude adjustment. It’s time for time-out. For a very very long time. An infinitely long time. And anyone who disagrees with me is more than welcome to go to that village that was recently whiped out and see the destruction that comes from a corrupt leader. You’re welcome to read the accounts of the American soldiers who were captured and tortured by Iraqi soldiers. I say we have a duty to the millions of lives threatened every day just by them living inside their own borders. We don’t need to push American values, or even our way of life. We just need to protect theirs before Saddam takes whatever is left away from them.
Rant over. Until I get the link to that article from Kevin.
Now for the news of the day. Happiest first - My toe is done!!! Yay! I’m going to pick it up tomorrow. (That sounds really freaky, so if you don’t know what’s going on, here’s a recap - I’m getting a prosthetic toe because I had my left big toe amputated. There, recap over.) It was supposed to be done next week, but I got a call from the toe guy today and he said he thought I’d like to have it by Easter Sunday. :) Cute of him, I think, and I’m really happy about it. I can’t wait to see it tomorrow. :)
And the next bit of news coincides with that. The toe guy was on ABC Primetime Thursday with that Charlie Gibson dude. Cool, huh? It was amazing to watch. All those pictures in his photo album of past patients came to life as they interviewed several of the people who’ve had prosthetics made for them. That toe guy is really a miracle. One of the most amazing was this woman who’s from Pakistan. Her husband suspected her of simply looking at another man - he was fully clothed, she just looked at him - so her husband hung her upside down by her ankles, cut off her nose, her ears, half her tongue, and gouged out her eyes. He cut her down, leaving her on the floor for dead - and she was six months pregnant!! Her brother found her and sent her to the United States, where a team of doctors worked on her. She looked just like a mummy, it was so sad. This whole team of doctors and Mr. Barron (the toe guy) donated their time, not charging the woman a cent, and they completely reconstructed her face out of prosthesis. She looked exactly like she did before. Even though she still can’t see, her children aren’t frightened by her, and she can walk the streets without all manner of discomforts. The man’s amazing. I’ll be sure to take pictures of my new toe. :) It looks so real.
Other news of the day. I got the files I needed off my hard drive, which was another miracle, albeit not as spectacular as toe guy. But, literally right after I got all the files I needed my hard drive completely fried. We couldn’t even really reformat it. Apparantly a whole chunk of it is just fused. I’m not sure on the details as my brother didn’t have much time to explain it. Either way, I’ve still got to go buy a new hard drive. Oh goodie. I think I want to buy a bigger one this time, just cause. :)
Other than that, hmm… I think I’m leaving something out, but that’s all I can remember right now. And besides, I need to quit thinking about this Iraq thing because it’s really getting me worked up and I know I’ll be laying awake for hours just coming up with other things to write, keeping me awake until I’m supposed to wake up to go get my toe. Phew. Good night. And don’t email me about this Iraq thing unless you agree with me. My sleep patterns can’t take it, sorry. And besides, I really don’t want to upset you with the really long, progressively ruder email I’ll be preparing all night while I can’t sleep. hehehe.
I’m sorry! It was a joke! I didn’t really mean that template stuff, hence the silly smiley face after the chapter. It was a joke! Geeze, you would not believe the emails I’ve gotten about it. Note: Don’t take anything on Heather’s blog seriously when smiley faces are involved, or when it’s way past my bedtime. Okay? We’ll save each other a lot of hassle if we remember that.
:)
I hate computer problems. My other computer won’t start ever since it crashed last night. I take care of it, I defrag it, I love it, what went wrong? Did it just stop caring? I think it was that stupid file I tried to download from Kazaa. I hate Kazaa now, I’m never using it again. (And don’t send me bad emails about that because it may have cost me a $1000 bill I’ve been trying to collect from someone because now I can’t get to my saved emails in order to send a certain lawyer friend the contract for the job that my employer won’t pay me for… it’s a long story and it’s stressing me out.) Stupid computer. Maybe steven can fix it tomorrow… I hope. Because it’s keeping me from going to sleep. I got into bed and couldn’t sleep, all because my brain was going a mile a minute over this stupid thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid… at least I have a few nice emails to reply to. I just apologize to anyone I write to - your email from me will probably be littered with typographical errors. As I’m sure this blog entry will be as well. Deal with it. :)
See? Smiley face! That means the “Deal with it” comment was meant in jest, not in a rude way. Okay? :) See? That ‘okay’ was meant pleasantly as well.
Hehe, I think I need some sleep. Stupid computers.
I can’t believe all the people who are using templates for their blogs! Get creative, people! It’s not that hard. After I posted that last blog about Guan’s site, he posted on his blog that he’s just using a template. For shame! :) Designing’s the best part, because your blog is about you. Are you a conformist? Do you like to look just like everybody else? Don’t you want your blog to make a statement? Maybe I should start making random templates, so people can come use designs and it’ll only be used once. If you happen to come through, you’ll get met by a random template generator. You can pick one of the random designs, and then once its yours, it never shows up on the generator again. Wouldn’t that be lovely? I’d have to have a kick butt server for that, but it’d be awesome. Maybe I’ll do that once I get space for InkBlot, inc. Or, if someone else wants to use the idea, go for it. Just give me a cut of the profits. :)
You know, colleges charge too much. If I were to go to the University of Cambridge, it’d cost me over $23,000 a year. That’s just sick. I think I’ll stick with Bournemouth, since they’re only around $13,000 a year for everything. That’s still horrendous, but not as bad as Cambridge. Egads, I hope all those people at MIT were right that pretty soon colleges will have to go tuition free. Although, I bet it’d only be Harvard and MIT. Why? Well, here’s the theory:
According to a certain guy at MIT who hosted a contest I went to, Harvard still claims to be a non-profit organization, despite having over $60 billion dollars in the bank. They could buy out entire third world countries, and they still charge ridiculous amounts just so you can say you went to Harvard for school. Pretty soon the IRS is going to get fed up, knowing they’re getting cheated out of a ton of money. In order to stay non-profit and keep all of their precious money, Harvard will have to stop charging tuition fees. Then, because MIT hates Harvard (and vice versa), and since they’re so competitive for students, MIT will have to go tuition-free as well. They could both certainly afford it, what with all of the money they’re getting in big chunks from really rich old guys and the government for research projects
Not that that would make it easier to get into MIT. In fact, it would get harder. Then you couldn’t as easily pay your way into MIT or Harvard, you’d actually have to compete with a whole new slew of really smart people; the ones who still can’t pay for Harvard or MIT, but could kick a rich geek’s butt with all those numbers of pi they’ve memorized. Yeah.
I think I’m going to quit ranting now and go eat some lunch.
Guan, in response to my last blog: “I am beginning to feel like jipe (warning Danish). I would never dream of writing fan fic myself, just like I am an atheist, but l think it is beautiful that at least some people find meaning in something.”
Hehe, the biggest meaning I found whilst writing fan fiction is that I’ll never do it again. :) I’m much happier writing my own stuff, thanks very much. Now if only I felt comfortable posting it on the net… Nah, it’s not an insecurity problem, it’s a paranoia problem. I don’t want anyone to steal what I’m writing now.
But, Guan, I like your new redesign. Very nice, sleek, and still stylish. Nice work. :)
I got a great email from a lawyer friend of mine today who helped a great deal with the PotterWar campaign, and then later helped me with the ArsDigita fiasco. He found an article written by Philip Greenspun that was really very eye-opening. I knew the basics of what happened when ArsDigita started suing Philip Greenspun, but I had never really put all the names to their various personas. Tee hee, no wonder everyone got mad when I left several messages with Chip Hazard. :)<—innocent grin. I suppose, technically, those phone messages weren’t really productive, but dang they were fun.
That’s what I need. I need another campaign to work on. No more of this fan fiction stuff, I need legal work. I realized this weekend that my skills in regard to writing legal letters has taken a drastic dive. I tried to write a letter to try and get paid for a job I did a few months ago, and it turned out to be just absolute rubbish. I used to kill at that sort of thing. Hopefully it’s just a temporary set-back. :)
I had a thought last night. When I’m old and gray and horribly rich (hahaha), I want to start a scholarship program. One that isn’t limited by age, and there aren’t any rules about how the winner must go to college within that same year. It could be for an 11 year old who happened to create a way to end world hunger in between school, homework, and watching Pokemon. Or, it could be just as well suited for a 65 year old who decided that hey, after all of that, he really did want that masters degree in psychology or botany or whatever. I’ll call it the Kick Butt Scholarship for Really Cool People. Done something really cool? Do you plan on going to college some time? Then that’ll be the scholarship for you. No boundries, you’ll just have to submit an impressive, kick butt essay explaining what kick butt things you’ve done and what a really cool person you are. Then, the money will be held for you until you can go to college. If you don’t go to college, then the money will revert back to the KBSRCP fund. I like my idea. Now if only I were horribly rich… See all the lovely things I could do with money?
That leads me to my second thought, one that I thought up today while talking with my friend Sam. He and I decided that if people can get on the Oprah Winfrey Show for getting their entire wedding sponsored, I should get my college education corporately sponsored. Now if only I could quit torking off corporations long enough to squeeze some funding out of them. :) But seriously, I could create a whole presentation - with pretty pie charts and everything - put on my suit, and go into their board rooms and put on a fabulous show, illustrating just how profitable my future could be with their short-term investment. Just think, for a one-time investment of $35,000 to $50,000, for a growth period of approximately three years, the earning potential could be staggering. Currently, I’m making $25 dollars an hour doing freelance web work. With more extensive training, think how high that number could jump! With endorsements from such industry leaders as Philip Greenspun, Tim Berners-Lee, and many others, I’m guaranteed to be a worthwhile investment for any large corporation with a few thousand dollars to burn to make a young girl happy. :) And just think, without the added stress of trying to earn money whilst I’m at University, imagine all of the worthwhile activities I’ll be participating in. Think of how, due to my relaxed lifestyle at college, I’ll be inspired to help others, all the while expanding my potential earnings. Expand your horizons, invest in the future, with Heather, LLC.
Think they’ll buy it? :) Hehe.
Two hundred and eight pages. That’s how long my fan fic is. Two hundred and eight pages. That’s just nuts. No wonder it’s taken me two years to write the ruddy thing. :) I’m actually pretty proud of it, despite it being a fan fic. I think it took quite a few twists that were un-Rowling-ish, and yet at the same time I did my best to stick to her style. I’ve been told I did a good job with that, so I’m happy. And plus, people are getting excited about the contest, which is always encouraging. They like the idea of getting the book in print. I can’t wait to see it all bound, and to actually hold it in my hand. I think I’m going to go work on the introduction and designing the cover page and all that. It feels so peaceful right now with it finally done. Of course, I’ll have to do some final tweaking, since I haven’t reread the final chapters in full yet, and I haven’t reread it from cover to cover, but I reread chapters 38 and 39 as I was condensing all the chapters into one large file. I love them, I don’t think I could have done them any better. The only chapter I’m really worried about is 41. I might have been too concise in the end-of-year speech, but there really wasn’t that much to say. And I hate when the final chapter is nothing but a recap of the rest of the book. It’s like, geeze, the reader has sat through 41 chapters, enough’s enough. :)
I think I’ll get to work now. More blogging later.
You know, I’m really rather sad that casting’s done on ‘Good Omens’. (It’s a quirky book by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman about the end of the world. And, it’s a comedy. Imagine that.) Terry Gilliam’s been in the process of turning the book into a film for quite some time, and I really wanted to be a part of it. I know it really wasn’t going to happen, but then again, I never really got to try either. I got sick instead. Same thing happened with X-Men 2. What good are all these telephone numbers if I can’t actually use them? I actually did call Donna Isaacson about X-Men 2. I got her assistant on the phone. When I asked about casting for X-Men 2, he laughed and said “Dang, you’re early, and dang, you’ve got guts. Call me back in about six months and I’ll see what I can do for you.” Six months after that call, almost exactly, I was having my toe amputated. Crappy timing, huh? Oh well. It wouldn’t have been good for me to get involved in that anyway. A) Because I’m not sure I want to do it, and B) I was going to get other medical problems and I would have hated breaching a contract cause I fainted on the set or something. That would stink.
And then there’s that whole “Hollywood’s awful” thing. :) I don’t really want to be a part of it, I just want to get started somewhere so I can turn my book into a movie, then happily disappear after that.
You know, every time I blog I hope and hope that I get on Blogger’s “Recently Updated Blogs” list, and I never make it. I’ve made it only once and I accidentally closed the window before I could really bask in the fun of it. :)
Okay, I really think I need to go to bed. I’m getting loopy again. It’s been a looong day.
I think I finished my fan fic. It feels… weird. It’s an ending that, from what I can tell, I actually like. I’m waiting until tomorrow to actually proclaim it finished. I want Sujit to read it, I want to reread it, I still need to title the last two chapters, but I think it’s done. It’s hard to describe how it feels. It’s as if in that one moment where I resisted temptation to stop writing when I was only a chapter away; when I actually wrote the last sentence; it’s like I got older. Then I forgot about that, went downstairs at 11:00pm and ate some Kix. :) Writer tested, Editor approved. Hehehe.
I love Archie McPhee. (No, he’s not a new beau.) Go check him out at www.mcphee.com. They’ve got the funniest things for sale on the planet. Like the world’s biggest pair of underpants, the “To Whom Have You Exposed to Syphillis?” lunchbox, and last but not least, a french fry camera. Lovely stuff, full of sophistication, yeah…
Hey, at least it’s better than what I saw at the outlet mall when I went shoe shopping. We went into a gourmet food store to find a pizza baking stone. It took a while to find that, but not nearly as long to spot a box of chocolate underwear. (Geeze am I going to get ridiculous searches for that one. Not like they aren’t already bad enough.)
Those stupid Oscars should hurry up. I’m waiting to see if LotR wins best picture. I want it to so badly just so it can be rubbed in WB’s face. Neener neener, this could have been you if you weren’t such capitalist dorks! Erm, excuse me…
I think I’ll just forget it and go to bed. I’m getting tired of clicking the link to the winners list over and over.
I’ve got a really bad headache. I don’t think I’m hungry, so that’s not it. Not thirsty. Oh, wait, I didn’t get enough sleep, that’s probably what it is. I have to get up at 8:00 for church, which I really don’t think is nice at all.
I think today’s another one of those completely-unproductive days. I try something and it just turns out messy. Suppose it’s a good thing it’s Sunday and I can actually get away with that. I just tried to make a few desktop wallpapers. I made a few good ones, then they got messy. I may put them up for download, if I have the webspace. I think I do, it’s just those wallpaper files are big. The images are nice and creepy and go right along with the book, which I still need to finish. I tried to write the ending today, I promised, but again, it all turned into a big mess. A nice ending is worth the wait, trust me.
I take it back, I am hungry. :)
I’ve gotten three emails so far in response to my post from Saturday, March 16. Over 40 people have come to the blog today. Oodles in the past week (I’m too lazy right now to check the exact number,) and still only three emails. The tally so far:
One from my brother Kevin, saying, “I, like, read your blog, and it’s toe-tally awesome.”
The second from a lovely girl who helped out with PotterWar, by translating Alastair’s site into French.
And the latest from a guy I don’t know named Michael, who was searching for a Walker Brothers song, and he thinks I’m “very pretty.” :) Thanks, Michael. Tee hee.
Not much else going on right now. I’m just looking mindlessly through the latest list of what brought people here to my blog. Hey, maybe I’ll start a funny link of the day-when-I-feel-like-it activity. Now, the story behind the link of the day-when-I-feel-like-it (and yet again, sadly, I found it cause I couldn’t sleep and stayed awake until 2am again): I was searching around BBCAmerica.com earlier this week, hoping to find out when they’d show “Are You Dave Gorman?” again. Sadly, I didn’t find any information on that, but I did find Dave Gorman’s website. :) I haven’t emailed him yet, even though there are links to his email address everywhere. I figure I can’t think of anything constructive to say, and I bet he gets tired of constant, “Hey, love your show, I think you’re fabulous” emails. Hey, wait, I wouldn’t get tired of those… Anyway, hehehe, his site’s pretty funny if you’re into the whole Dave Gorman thing. (If you haven’t seen the show, shame on you.) Go check it out, www.davegorman.com. (Appropriately named, isn’t it?)
While we’re on the subject, as I didn’t have anything constructive to email Dave Gorman about, I did find his flat-mate’s personal site and he had a foreboding message on his site, saying,
“Hello. I was wondering whether I could ask you a question. Would you consider Joining Me? It’d be lovely if you’d have a think about it, and then maybe e-mail me for more details. It’ll be great, I promise…”
At two in the morning I thought this was hilarious, and I had to give it a go. The sheer quirkiness of it was too much to resist. I emailed him, he emailed back the very next morning, saying more details would be on their way as soon as he got home from Singapore. Now I’m really curious. I wonder if his visit to Singapore has anything to do with “joining” him. Maybe he’s finally succumbed to the pressure and started to search for his namesake as well. :) (Somehow, I doubt that.)
Now, if you’re thinking I’m nuts for emailing some-guy-who-has-a-show’s flat-mate, you’re wrong… well, sort of. Only halfway wrong. :) His flatmate is also part of the show. In fact, you could say he’s responsible for the show, in a way. Oh, you’re going to make me explain it aren’t you? All because you’re the one who doesn’t know what “Are You Dave Gorman?” is. For shame. Go here to find out. It’s really funny, I promise.
Now, enough of the babbling, I’ve got to go get something to eat.
Phew. I just spent the day driving all over the place, and shopping. My mom and I drove my brother Steven out into the boonies of northern Virginia so he could go to some girl’s birthday party, then we went to an outlet mall in Leesburg. I really needed walking shoes because I’m going to start going on walks every day, now that my no-toe’s feeling better. We went to the Reebok outlet, didn’t find a thing. Then on to Rockport; same story there. I was starting to feel a bit discouraged, but thank heavens for Nike! Their new running shoes feel fantastic! They may look a bit strange, but they really do feel nice. The pair I got were originally $60, and I got them for $30. Not a screaming good deal, but still, 50% off isn’t bad at all for nice walking shoes. So, I’m happy with my weird techno shoes. I’ll try to find a picture of them on Nike so you can see. They’re just plain weird. They kinda remind me of the shoes Michael J. Fox wore in Back to the Future.
I tried to change my picture last night but I’m not sure if worked. Maybe it’s just my cache. Anyway, I took that picture two nights ago because I liked the way my hair looked, and I happened to have my brother’s digital camera. At midnight I took a few shots, and they happened to turn out okay. I decided I needed a new look on the blog, so I changed it.
Not much else to report today. More later this evening if I think of something.
“You talk of pale primroses,
Of frail and fragrant posies,
The cowslip and the cuckoo-flower
that scent the spring-time lea.
But give to me the heather,
The honey-scented heather,
The glowing gipsy heather—
That is the flower for me!
You love the garden alleys,
Smooth-shaven lawns and valleys,
The cornfield and the shady lane, and
fisher-sails at sea.
But give to me the moorland,
The noble purple moorland,
The free, far-stretching moorland—
That is the land for me!”
Yes! Another poem about me. :) (And I didn’t even make it up; it was written by Flora Thompson.) Hehe, okay, so it’s not really about me, but I love finding Heather poems. I don’t know if I like this one as much as Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Heather Ale”, but I certainly like the “The honey-scented heather” type lines. I’m a glowing gipsy! Haha. I need sleep.
I am addicted to the theme from Six Feet Under. I’ve never seen the show, cause I don’t get HBO, but my brother got the show’s soundtrack for his birthday on the 20th (He’s 27, aaaahhhH!), and he gave me a copy of the theme. It’s just strange sounding, but I like it. I think it’s just cause I like the oboe. Maybe I should learn to play the oboe, since I think it’s my favorite sounding instrument. I’d rather play the piano, since I’ve actually done that before so I wouldn’t have to deal with being bad at playing something. :) Tee hee. I don’t think I’d play the oboe too well. I couldn’t handle the reed on the clarinet, how could I handle two of those stupid things? Honestly, though, I might be able to handle it. The last time I tried to play the clarinet I was nine years old and didn’t quite understand what a reed is. My dad’s got a clarinet, maybe I should go try it again.
How was that for a wandering paragraph?
I’ve got way too much email piled up. It’s up to 54 this time, and I just can’t bring myself to answer it. I look at it and my headache comes back. Sorry, peoples-who-emailed-me, you’re just going to have to wait.
I keep stopping while blogging to read through a list of “You know you’re obsessed with Harry Potter when…” and I thought I was doing pretty well until I came across these:
“When you’ve read all the books cover to cover, stopping only to eat.” - Guilty. I did that when each of the books came out, and several times thereafter whenever I read book three. (That’s my favorite.)
“When after you’ve read the books, you discover that the music you listened to while reading now reminds you of certain parts of the books.” - Guilty. Whenever I hear the Four Seasons by Vivaldi I think of Harry Potter. That used to be what I’d go to sleep by, and of course, I wouldn’t be going to sleep, I’d stay awake until four o’clock in the morning, reading. But, that’s not obsession, I don’t think. I do that with all of the books I really enjoy reading. With ‘Ender’s Game’ and ‘The Power of One’ it was Gabriel Faure’s nocturnes and requiem. With Hitch-Hiker’s Guide, it was the theme to the League of Gentlemen, only because I got that song stuck in my head forever.
“When you buy all your friends, who haven’t read any Harry Potter books, the first in hopes that they’ll be as obsessed as you.” - I’ll only plead guilty to that if it’s a misdemeanor because I’ve only done that to a few of my friends, and one of my ex-boyfriends.
“When you refuse to go see “Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” on it’s opening weekend in fear that you might help it beat Harry Potter’s opening weekend.” - Completely innocent, but I did do the complete opposite. I wanted the Potter movie to bomb and see LotR climb to the top of ticket sales. Why? I’ve never read LotR, and in fact thing what I’ve read of ‘The Hobbit’ is relatively dull so far, but the movie was way better than Potter. Potter completely stunk, and if you want more details than that, go read my review.
“When the only thing you want for Christmas are plane tickets to England ” - Guilty, but for an entirely different reason. Harry Potter wasn’t filmed in Hadfield. :)
I still don’t think I’m obsessed. So I run a fan site, big whoop. I think I would have stopped ages ago if so many people didn’t enjoy it. It gives me something to do, and it’s good for the kiddies.
I’m starving. I think I’m going to go wait by the door for dinner to arrive.
Yay, yay, yay, yay! I just got back from a meeting with my printer friend. Turns out the cost of binding my book is nowhere near what I thought it was going to be. He said, with copying, printing, and binding, the total cost will probably be around $6 per book! I was expecting around $20. This is so exciting. :) Now the contest can move ahead as planned, no more worries, and it’ll all be fantastico. Woohoo!
:-D And, he also gave me some really awesome paper. You know that stuff that’s sort of translucent and creamy looking? I got a whole stack of it for free. He insisted I shouldn’t pay him for it, so instead I think I’m going to take him some brownies.
Also, more incredibly happy news; I got a piece of snail mail from a fan of the Daily Prophet, begging me to send him a copy of my fan fic. How exciting is that? The letter was so cute! I’m going to email him and send him a snail mail letter back. I may even send him a copy of the book, if I can manage it. I’m glad someone actually wants it.
That’s it for now. I’ve got to quit gushing about all this good news or I’ll just explode, and that wouldn’t be a good thing at all.
I want to redesign my blog. This one still isn’t me. As Chris said, “It reminds me of a coffee shop… don’t ask me why.” What I’d really like is a red blog with Emma Peel as the background, but just her outline so as to fool people that I’m actually shaped like her. :) Hahaha. Nah, I’m actually kinda glad I’m not as itty bitty as she was/is. Honestly, I’ve always wanted to be shaped like Marilyn Monroe.
Simon’s new girlfriend emailed me this morning, and just after I read it she hopped online and we got to talk on AIM. It was quite fun to talk to her, then bug Simon by not telling him what she and I were talking about. :) It’s great to be the third wheel of two overly twitterpaited people. You get to play with all that overly giddy energy and run with it.
I went to a friend of mine who owns a printing business yesterday, wondering about whether or not he could print and bind that silly children’s book I’ve been working on. Turns out he can do the exact kind of binding I want so it looks like everything’s going ahead as planned. I just need to finish the stupid thing. I was hoping to finish it yesterday, but my writing skills went kaput. I think I’m just nervous about finishing it. It’s been my project for so long it’s weird to think of it as actually ending. It’s not like I’m sentimental over it, or like I’m going to miss writing it. I’ve got tons of other projects that I’m far more attached to. It’s just strange. Anyway, I’m digressing again. This friend of mine can print it, but I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit expensive. I really wanted to print about ten copies and give a few away to friends who I know love the book because they’ve asked me for copies. But I can’t afford it. Now I’m wishing they could just send me the cost of printing - not making any money off it, just paying for production - and then I could send them a book. I’d even sign it with a personalized message and everything. But I’m not sure if I can get away with that. Stupid Warner Brothers. We should be allowed to produce fan fiction as long as we aren’t making dirty fan fiction, or making a huge profit off of it. My fan fic’s clean - okay, maybe a little violent - and people like it. I should be able to send it to them in a nice printed, bound, peachy form. Sigh.
I think that’s it for now. I’ve got to go back to my printer friend. I have to pick up some paper for another project and look at some binding samples. More blogging later, I hope.
I’ve got the urge to animate something, which is pretty weird considering I’ve never really animated anything before. This project has been nagging me for a while. I’ve tried writing it as a serial, but that didn’t work. It didn’t convey what I want the project to be, it just ended up weird. It’s supposed to be an art piece, not a word piece. It’s something my brother, his wife, and I came up with last year while I was staying with them for a while. Now I just wish I could draw. :) I might be able to use a 3D computer graphics program, like one that my other brother Steven uses, and then just take screen captures as I make the characters move around. Maybe one day I’ll actually finish the silly thing. Or, I’ll just hire someone to draw it. :)
I saw the stupidest ad the other day. It was for the Volvo XC Cross Country, proudly proclaiming, “It’s everything you love about ocean racing, except the sea-spray.” And not to mention the ocean, the boat, and the race. Volvo is, of course, the sponsor for the Volvo Ocean Race (appropriately named, isn’t it?) where boaters go from Southampton to Kiel,but instead of taking the sensible route in a slightly northeastern direction, they travel via Capetown, Sydney, Hobart, Auckland, Rio de Janeiro, Miami, Baltimore, La Rochelle, Goteborg, finally ending up in Kiel. Silly men. :) But, I ask, what does a car have to do with going around the world in a boat? Yup, that Cross Country, it’s absolutely everything that I love about boat racing. Hehe.
I remembered the other thing I wanted to blog about! A week or so ago I went down to Fredricksburg to attend an old friend’s bridal shower. We stopped outside Manassas to drive along with some other old friends, who happen to have three young girls, aged 2, 5, and 7. It was great driving from Manassas to Fredricksburg, crammed in the backseat between the five and seven year olds. The way there we played Opposite Day, where we swapped names. I happened to become the two year old in the seat in front of us. We all decided I was one highly advanced two year old. It was great fun and games. On the way back, though, the five year old fell asleep and I spent an hour talking with the seven year old. That was the most fun I’d had all evening. That girl was amazing! We started discussing world travel, and how much she wants to go places and learn about new cultures. Her dad works for the “State Department” (meaning, another branch of the government I shouldn’t mention), and she said that when he came home from a visit to South America he brought pictures of the people there. She said she loved looking at them, but at first she was caught off guard. “Those women were walking around without shirts on,” she said calmly, “But that’s okay because that’s just the way they are. That’s their culture, what makes them different from us. And that’s okay.” At that comment I just stared blankly at her, not knowing what else to say. Here I was sitting next to a seven year old with a complete understanding of differences in culture from country to country, and she was completely accepting of it. I haven’t met many adults with that much tolerance and love for other cultures. I was incredibly amazed.
We went on to discuss our long lists of countries that we want to go to. We both decided we wanted to go to Egypt, but she said she wouldn’t want to go there any time soon, “I’ve heard it’s dangerous,” she said, “Do you know why?” I went on to explain about stories I had heard about Egypt and all that, and she completely understood it. Sometimes when we’d talk about certain places she’d know the basics, but not too much detail. Understandable for a seven year old. The funniest was when she said she wanted to go to Mount Everest. I expressed my concern, saying that was awfully dangerous. She laughed politely and said, “I don’t want to climb it, I just want to stand at the base and look up and go, ‘Whoa, that’s huge! That’s so tall it’s like a hundred of my dads!’” I had to fight it so hard not to laugh at that one. Her dad’s tall, but not that tall. It was awfully cute, though. It really makes you see how big everything seems to a kid.
That talk with my little friend Lauren was rather nice. It renewed my hope in the intelligence of children today. I’ve met an awful lot of highschoolers with good grades who don’t know half as much as this little seven year old. I wish she lived closer. That was the most interesting conversation I’ve had in a looong time.
My friend Simon wrote an interesting blog today about architecture and how art influeces how you act and react. Which I find rather funny since he and I used to have long, involved conversations about how spartan websites are, in his opinion, preferable to more elaborate ones. Design’s design, baby. It affects lots of things, even on websites. :) But, of course, as a designer, I’m the antithesis to programmers, so hey, it all evens out in the end, right?
I went out bowling with Kevin this evening from 6:30 to 9:30. It was the handicap-determining round for the various AOL bowling teams. I was subbing for someone on “The Misfits”, named because we were the haphazardly-thrown-together team. :) I only agree to do it as long as everyone knew I hadn’t bowled in about four years, so therefore I know I’m a pretty crappy bowler. We played three games, and my scores were pretty terrible. 28 the first game, 46 the next, and 54 the last. Not too bad overall, considering it from the standpoint of at least I got better, hehe. But, I quickly realized I have a major handicap when bowling (I mean a real one, not that I have a horribly pitiful number of points that have to be added to my score to make up for my playing so badly.) I’m a right-handed bowler, so therefore my left foot is supposed to be the one that stops me when I approach the lane to fling the ball. Not having a left toe, I kept slipping and then I would jerk the ball and zoooom, straight into the gutter. :) I had to develop an entire new style for bowling, which I must say took a long time to get used to, and I’m still not that comfortable with it. I have to mentally glue my left foot to the floor then lunge forward with my right foot, all the time trying to remember to keep my thumb straight so I won’t send the ball straight into the gutter. After all that, I actually knocked all the pins down once… after several frames of nothing. :) But, I’m quite happy with my progression. I met my goal of breaking 50, so I feel better. And, everyone was certainly very nice about it, as far as I know. My team and the team we were up against cheered when I knocked down more than two pins at a time, which was pretty funny when most of the other bowlers were disappointed when they left only two standing up. Hehe. There was one guy on the other team who was able to send the ball spinning so it would curve around the lane and, more often then not, result in a strike. I can’t even imagine how one would set about trying to learn how to do such a thing. Craziness.
Now my right thigh and my right upperarm are as stiff as boards. Not the joints, the muscles. Surprisingly, they aren’t too sore, though. It’s just my thumb that hurts. I can’t ever find a bowling ball that’s the right weight and at the same time big enough for my thumb knuckle. Strange because my thumbs really aren’t that big. You’d have to have toothpicks for fingers to fit into an 8 pound ball at my age, hehe. :)
I think I’m going to have to quit listening to Fat Boy Slim and Massive Attack and get to bed. I don’t want to stay up as late as I did last night because I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow like I did this morning. Ah, that felt nice, though. :) I’m certainly not a morning person. Once I’m up, I’m up, but goodness, I don’t like it.
It’s great to wake up in such a great mood after having a crappy night. :) Why the great mood? Let me count the ways… I love Mondays because my mom has to take my brother out to school at 9 in the morning. Normally, I try to wake up when my mom comes to wake me up, and I usually do, but not this morning. After last night I couldn’t wake up. But, it felt lovely to sleep in. I fell back asleep with it gently raining outside, a nice breeze coming in through the window, my sheets felt all nice and soft… it was just heaven. When I finally got out of bed I realized I had woken up straight into a nice hair day. (I love curly hair — it may be heavy and hard to bear in the summer time, but nothing beats waking up looking like you just stepped out of a salon. If I get a digital camera I’ll have to take pictures to prove it.)
I think I’m two chapters away from completely finishing that ridiculous Harry Potter fan fic. My editor says the latest chapters don’t feel rushed, which was my main concern, so I must be good to go. I’ve been delaying writing it because something didn’t seem right in my writing style, but I guess I was just imagining things. Maybe I’ll finish it up this afternoon. I’m so close! I can’t delay it much longer.
On another happy note, I’ve been getting some pretty funny messages in my fan fic’s guestbook. Apparantly a whole classroom full of kids just adore my fan fic and read it together. I’ve gotten two messages from them, and I must say, it’s pretty cool. I’ve reached all the way to Ghana, how interesting is that? I just love it.
I’ve got to go. I’ve got three IM conversations going and each one is pretty involved. I can’t talk to that many people and blog all at once. More blogging later.
What to do when you can’t sleep: read The Norm. It’s hilarious. Especially the comic I link directly to right there. I swear, I’ve done something close to that before. Thankfully there was a pen around so I doodled it on a napkin instead of using mustard. But now I have an excuse to get a digital camera. Mustard art! :)
Time to try and go to sleep for the second time. Let’s try this again… Good night!
I actually got a couple emails from that message I posted last night. Unfortunately, one of them was obvious. I received “I, like, read your blog” from my brother. I think he was on something when he wrote it, because the text of the message was “I read your blog, and I like toe-tally love it.” Sigh… Hehe. The other one was a surprise, though. An email from a lovely girl who helped out with PotterWar by translating Alastair’s site (I’d link to Al’s blog, but, um, no.) :)
Speaking of toe-tally loving it, as I was watching a hideously stupid movie last night, I pulled out my punching bag, sat on it, and proceeded to beat the heck out of it. (I still can’t hang it up because the deck is rotting and every time I punched the bag the entire deck shook. Either the wood’s bad, or I’m the next Wonder Woman. I somehow think it’s the first option. [Besides, gold arm bands really aren’t my forte.]) Anyway, as I was punching it, I started to wonder about all the great nick-names I’ve been given, and could get, thanks to having my big toe amputated. (Where did the connection come from between being big-toe-less and beating a punching bag? Boxing nick-names, of course. I can see it now, Heather “No-Toe” Lawver.) My all-time favorite, of course, is still “no-toe”. It just works so well. But then there are so many other options… Nifty Nine-Toes, Twinkle Toeless, The Toester (hehehe, think of the boxing outfit for that one, and the taunts…), the list goes on and on. Think of all the James Bond spoofs available. The Girl with the Golden Toe, License Toe Kill, BigToes Are Forever, The Toe Is Not Enough, and too bad I didn’t get another toe amputated, or I could have been Octoepussy, (and too bad that’s really close to a swear word.)
And as you can probably tell, I didn’t get much sleep last night, it’s been a long day, and I’m just a wee bit loopy.
I really should get to bed, but I feel like there was something I wanted to blog, but I’ve forgotten what it is. Now I’m sitting here, listening to the Beatles, trying to think of what it was… I’m stuck. I’m going to bed, maybe I’ll have a dream about it and I’ll be able to write it tomorrow. G’night.
Just thought you’d like to know, over 100 people came to my blog today. Wow. That’s… strange. If you’re reading my blog and I don’t know you, email me. I’m curious to know who actually reads this thing.
I woke up at the hideously early hour of 6:30 this morning (laugh all you want, I’m a night-owl) so I could go take the SAT. I was horribly nervous last night, pacing the upstairs hallway, frantically looking for a little pencil sharpener to take with me. Then I obsessed over finding my laptop which I thought somebody had stolen, but it turned out I had actually putten it away. Then I tried to sleep, but I got too cold, then too hot, then the people in the house behind me started playing really loud music, then the flying saucers came… Nah, I wish.
The test honestly wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I went to a local high school to take the test, which was unfortunate. I hate being inside high schools… they’re so austere and mind-numbingly-dull. But, anyway, I’m digressing again.
Thankfully the teacher assigned to my room was really sweet and was good at setting everyone’s nerves to rest. I had spent the entire night - in between bouts of restless sleep - trying to convince myself not to be nervous. After all, my SAT score really doesn’t matter. The school I want to go to wants the ACT, a test I know I’ll do well on. The SAT doesn’t matter at all. The only reason I took it was because I registered when I still thought I was going to the University of Wisconsin, but now that’s not going to happen because a better opportunity came up. Rather than waste the registration fee I decided to take the SAT anyway, to see how I do on it. If today was any indication, I’m not too worried about my score.
Thankfully the first section was all english, the department I consider my strength. I sped through the questions in half the allotted time, constantly reminding myself that perhaps the following sections would get progressively harder. I had the time to double and triple check my answers, confirming that I think every answer in section one was correct. Of course, in four weeks time, I’ll know if that feeling was right. Right or not, it made me feel a bit more confident. We all stood up for a break and the teacher asked us what we thought of the test so far. I know this sounds evil, but I felt a lot better when almost all of the other students answered with a resounding, “We didn’t think it’d be this hard!” “The words are so confusing!” and last but not least, “I don’t think I got anything right!” It felt better to know that maybe my theory was right. Maybe all those people will do really well on the math sections, cause they’re math people, and I’ll have gotten a good percentage of the english questions right.
Time went on, subject after subject, and of course, I think I did terribly on the math. But, looking on the bright side, I don’t think I did as terribly as I had expected. Thankfully there were quite a few story problems so I felt a little better. Mind, I didn’t feel too good after every math section. It was rather like a roller coaster; I’d feel relatively stupid after the math sections, and after english I kept remembering that quote from a Stephen King book I read; “I’m freakin’ Shakespeare!” Hehe, okay, so I didn’t think that, but it entertained me while I sat around doing nothing for five to ten minutes after I completed each section early.
Thankfully the four hours for the test went by quickly enough. I happened to walk with some nice girls to and from the test who set my nerves at ease. They kind of reaffirmed my failing belief in teenage girls. No evidence found for the boys today, though. :) Hehehe, just kidding.
After the test I went with my Dad, my brother, his wife, and their son Max to see “Ice Age.” Definitely a kid’s movie, but not too bad. It was nice to just relax after taking the test and watch something rather mindless. Then I came home, played online, answered some nice emails, and played around. And now I’m here. The dreaded Saturday, March 16th, 2002, day of the SAT, is finally coming to a close. I think I’m going to wrap it up with a nice shower and veg out watching Ian McKellan on SNL. He’s hilarious — I saw him on the Daily Show a month or so ago. I think he was drunk during the interview; he kept going off on tangents about the Queen, and how awful England is. He kinda staggered as he interrupted Jon Stewart and said, “You know what? I’m not even a citizen of Great Britain… I’m a subject. A bleedin’ subject.” It was hilarious. Can’t wait to see if he’s drunk tonight. Great actor, yeah - phenomenal in Gods and Monsters (thank you, IFC Fridays on Bravo!) - but absolutely hilarious in interviews.
I’m off. G’night.
Do you ever get the feeling that you know someone on the verge of something really, really great? One of my friends is like that. The way he can write, it’s just amazing. Sometimes you can tell he’s really tired, but the cool thing is he doesn’t care when he messes up. He’s completely free in his writing, not afraid of who reads it. I think that’s my problem here. I worry too much about who reads it. But, then again, maybe I have cause to worry.
You know what’s cool? My blog played match-maker! My friend Simon met this really awesome girl through my blog. It went like this; a girl happened upon my blog (I don’t know how), and that day I happened to have blogged about Simon, and linked to his site. She followed the link to his site, and started emailing him. Now they’re really good friends. How funny is that? I feel like someone should start calling me Yenta and making up songs about me. (Sorry, Fiddler on the Roof joke.) Hehe, when Simon told me about he said, “It’s sort of like we met through Harry Potter.” :) Him not having read the books makes that pretty funny. To me, at least.
Now I need to meet some guy named Craig through Harry Potter, then everything in the world will be right. Why “Craig”? Because I’m dying to put on my wedding invitations, “You’re cordially invited to the wedding of Craiggers and Meggers.” Tee hee.
Of course, the ad for any combination of the following three names is still applicable: William, David, and/or Bennett. I’m waiting. :)
I’ve been working like crazy today, I don’t know what got into me. I updated Calculo.co.uk by adding an entire research page about Jack London, adding “The Call of the Wild” to the eBook library, and then I moved on to scrubbing the kitchen, doing some laundry (which is really amazing for me, because I hate doing laundry), and then I completely redesigned and finished writing my HTML textbook. Oh, and I nearly forgot; I cleaned my room, and I’ve been working on updating the Daily Prophet. Now if only I could squeeze out the ending of my fan fic I will have finished just about all of my hanging projects. Cool, isn’t it?
Oh, shoot, I just forgot a bunch of other projects… Okay, I’d have to finish my fan fic, finish my insane asylum novel, finish the other children’s book I’ve been working on, finish a screenplay I’ve been working on about the London Underground, expand the Daily Prophet, finish that other wayward screenplay, marry some guy named Craiggers (or Bennett, or William, or David), and the list goes on and on and on. And I only have roughly 5 hours to do all that. Okay, forget that idea. I’m happy with what I’ve gotten done today, I can finish the rest tomorrow. :)
I got the queries site up finally, with that big long list of some of the ridiculous things people have searched for that led them here. And apparantly, as I’ve found out through emails sent to me, that some of those people have actually stuck around for a while. Weird, huh? It gets weirder, trust me. Just check out the list.
I’m really going to bed now, I promise. I need sleep…
I finally thought to actually change the border colors on this silly blog! Ever since the Pink Incident I’ve just been too busy and distracted to bother with copying and pasting the old blue border color back into the template. Now I can finally move on, shaking off the shackles known as the color pink. :)
Speaking of pink shackles, I got out of designing a wedding for someone. I’ve spent roughly 80 to 90 hours designing an absolutely gorgeous Martha-Stewart-Eat-Your-Heart-Out wedding for this girl that I don’t even know because I need to boost my portfolio. But her rather, um, how to say this tactfully… erm, overly stressed mother keeps changing the design, and then giving me lectures. Such as, “Well, honey, professionals do it this way… da da da da da.” She doesn’t seem to get it through her head that I get paid between $22 and $50 an hour just to design stuff, and I was doing this wedding for pretty much nothing. I just needed to boost my portfolio a bit. I thought perhaps the mother-of-the-bride would just let me at it because she’s heard all sorts of amazing things about the first full wedding I pulled off which happened in February. Without trying to gloat, I did an absolutely beautiful job for only have two weeks to do it, having never met the bride, and only visiting the reception site once. (I’ll put pictures up as soon as possible — they’re still on my laptop.) Anyway, word has spread around that I kick serious butt at designing weddings, so when all this started with the latest wedding, the mother of the bride was basically grovelling at my feet. Now she’s giving me lectures about being a professional, saving money, and arranging flowers. Never mind the fact that as of a week ago the mother was completely shocked when I said I could pull off Posh English Country Garden for under $1,500. Everything. Under $1,500. And I was going to make it well under that, too. Oh well, her loss. I can only imagine what the bride’s going to say when she finds out her mother botched it.
I suppose that brings me to my next subject. Do you have an industrial space you need designed? I need to boost my portfolio for design school and that’s one thing I’m still lacking. An office, a doctor’s office, a cafeteria, a restaurant, anything. I’ve got pictures, I can prove I have skills. If you’re interested, email me. You want professionalism? I’ve taken down two companies, I can handle professional. You want cheap? Hey, the first wedding I pulled off was well under $1,000. I decorated my bedroom for well under $500 (take that, Trading Spaces! Hehehe.) Anyway, this is getting silly.
I’ve got to take the SAT on Saturday. I’ve decided not to be nervous about it because I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I know I’m rubbish at math, and I know the University I want to go to doesn’t need to see my SAT scores, they just need the ACT. Since I’m not worried about the English bit, that’s fine for me. But you know what’s strange? On my little SAT practice test, I aced all of the story math problems. I loath all math, I hate it. I’m terrible at it. Except when it comes to story problems. If I can see a practical use for it, hey, I’m peachy with that, I can do it. It’s all that stupid “P+Q=?” crap. What’s up with that? P and Q are letters, dang it. If we’re talking letters, R should come next, right? :)
Can you see me twirling blonde hair around my finger yet? Can you imagine the gum chewing, the platform shoes, and the tube top? Nah, seriously. It’s just math. I’m okay with the rest of it, and I’m really not too worried about going through life not knowing how to add my P’s and Q’s. I can manage money like a bandit, that’s got to count for something. Besides, in all the different options I’ve thought up for what I want to go into as a career, I don’t need to know complex trig or calculus. MIT can keep their math whizzes. I happen to be an English person, not a Math person.
My email’s backed up again. I go away for one weekend and it’s backed up for ages. I think I’ll deal with that after the SAT.
Good news! My fake toe’s almost done. Woohoo! Sure, the CIA guy said it would take months, but I think he likes me. We got at least 8 messages from him in about four days, and I’ve been in to see him three times in two weeks. I think he just likes me cause my feet are ticklish. :) When he spread this weird purple goop molding stuff on my foot it was really hard to keep from laughing. He had to use a palette knife to spread it around, and he had to get it between my little toes. It tickled! Anyone would be ticklish if someone stuck a cold palette knife there. And don’t even get me started on when he had to pull the purple goop off.
I got a call from him earlier this week, saying that he had already gotten the initial sculpture done on the toe, the thing he said would take forever. When I went to see him he said, “Well, I just felt like making a toe last night, and it happened to be yours.” Then he turned around and smiled and his cheeks got a little red. But anyway, the toe looks amazing. It was hard not to cry as he held it up to my foot. It’s been seven years since I’ve seen anything resembling a real toe on my left foot. Ever since I was eleven my left toe had been a scarred-up, nail-less mess. To see something so real down there was strange. I don’t even remember what it was like having a normal looking toe on my foot. I’ve gotten so used to it looking strange that I automatically shirk my left foot away from people, hiding it behind my right ankle and such. It’ll be a great feeling once that fake toe’s done and I can actually wear it. The Sunday after I get it, I’m wearing open-toed shoes to church. I may even paint the toenail. :)
I think I should get some sleep now. If my grammar and/or spelling has taken a dramatic turn for the worse, I apologize. I’m slowly slumping forward onto my keyboard, quickly falling asleep. I’ll try to blog tomorrow. I need to get back in the routine of blogging. With over 50 people visiting this blog every day (holy crap! How’d that happen?) I should give them something to read.
Good night!
I have been way too busy and way too stressed out lately. My cousin and his wife have been staying with us for quite some time, and they finally moved out. Unfortunately, they didn’t leave under the best of circumstances. Suffice it to say, on Friday night at midnight my family and I grabbed as much as we could in as little time as possible and went to a hotel. Crazy stuff, this, and I think it’s given me a twitch.
But, on the bright side, umm… I got a really funny piece of mail this week. A brochure, inviting me to attend “Management Skills for the New or Prospective Manager.” Guess how it was addressed. Go on, guess. :) Ms. Heather Lawver, The Daily Prophet, Senior Strategist. How funny is that? I think I’m going to save it — maybe even frame it. It’s my first piece of unsolicited business junk mail. :)
I’ve managed to write another chapter of my silly Harry Potter book. And I made a flash teaser for it, but I’m afraid it’s not working. The music keeps getting ahead of the pictures. It works inside Flash, but once it’s published and all that, kaboom. Doesn’t work. Stupid Flash. I need to learn Shockwave.
I think that’s all for now.
Ugh… too busy. Sorry I haven’t blogged since my insane insomniac moments. I’ve been rather busy. Today I had to meet with a bride and her mother to help plan her wedding, then off to Fort Myer to try and get some things approved with Tricare… and then… and then… and then… things just got crazy.
Good news — I’m getting a prosthetic toe! How cool is that? A friend of mine saw a guy on TV who used to work for the CIA making disguises. (You remember that scene in Mission: Impossible where Tom Cruise rips off a fake face, and then we’re supposed to be shocked that it was really Tom Cruise instead of some fat dude? Well, that’s not so impossible. This guy did it for the CIA for years.) Now he’s retired and makes prosthetics for cancer victims, burn victims, and teenage girls who’ve had their toes amputated. He’s going to make me a fake toe so I can wear open-toed shoes. The stuff he can do is amazing! He can change his identity in 3 seconds! But, now that he’s doing other things, he can make ears for cancer victims, noses for people who have been in accidents, but the most amazing one was a guy who had been so badly burned he literally didn’t have a face anymore. Nothing. And this guy, he made him a face. It looked exactly like the man did before, right down to tiny scars, a beard, everything. It’s just phenomenal. When I get my toe in a few months I’ll take pictures to prove it.
He’s going to be on TV some time soon, too. On ABC Primetime, I think. He said he’d let me know when.
I’ve got to get some sleep now. I’ll try to blog more tomorrow, or rather, later today. :)
I’ve got something else I wanna get off my chest before I try to battle insomnia again. Way back on the 22nd of February I got a really short email from one of my exboyfriends, just saying he’d been thinking about me and wondering how I’ve been doing. I wrote back, trying to be cheerful and all that, even though he’s an ex in every sense of the prefix. And what happens? He hasn’t responded at all. Does that mean he wanted me to say I’m actually doing horribly and my life sucks? Or is he too busy? Does he just not care? Was he bored and looking for entertainment like I am now? That’s it, we’re both insomniacs. Uh huh.
Or did the reply get deleted?
I’m really seriously going to bed now.
I’m really tired, but I can’t sleep. I’ve been lying in bed since 11:30, wide awake, wishing I could fall asleep. I was rather preoccupied mentally, all worried I had offended a friend of mine. Since that had been bugging me for a few days I decided just to email him and get it off my chest. That done, now I’m bored and wishing someone were around to entertain me. Sigh. :) Now I know why it must be nice to be married. I could just wake up my spouse and say, hey, entertain me! Let’s watch a movie, let’s talk, let’s do something, I’m bored!
Or at least it’d be nice to have a flat-mate. Wait, never mind, I don’t want to share an apartment…. :)
Don’t ask, I can’t sleep. Hehe. I think I’m going to turn off my computer before I start embarrassing myself. Good night… I hope.
Good news, I haven’t fallen yet today. I got to sleep in because my mom was really worried about me after last night. When we got home we looked down at my feet and they had turned deep purplish black around the toes. Nasty, huh? I stayed up until midnight with heat-packs on one foot while my mom rubbed the other foot. I must have really bad circulation or something. Or I’m really really old in a young person’s body. Who knows, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve thought up yet to explain my strange medical history.
The Daily Prophet’s been nominated for some awards. The one I’m most excited about is “Best Webmaster Award.” Tee hee, I got nominated for that one. I hope I get it. That would be just way too fun. Check it out here. It’s my friend Danny’s site. He and I were in that Nickelodeon Magazine article together. :)
I spent pretty much all day either writing or playing the Sims. I wrote a stupid interview with myself for my fan fiction. I’m rather embarrassed that I wrote that silly book, but oh well. We’ve all got to have something we look back on with a sheepish grin and a slightly red face, right? Might as well be a kid’s book that gets over 200 hits a day. Not too shabby.
Anyway, I digress. About the interview, it turned out rather malicious. I get into these pretend fights with my alter-ego (the one doing the interviewing.) I do that because A) it’s funny, and B) the fans like it. It turned out… strange. But, oh well, right? If I’m going to go red in the face, it’s going to be for something really strange.
I did it again. And this time it was flat on my face. My brother hopped, and I was trying to do the same, and then I just fell. This time it happened so fast I barely knew what was going on. Last time I actually had time to think, “I hope I don’t make too much of a bang when I land so they won’t come running and find me like this.” Then boom, I hit, and no one noticed. This time, it was in front of everybody. I walked out to the car, and unfortunately we were going out to lunch right then. I couldn’t even hide it.
Last time I mildly felt like crying. That frog got in my throat, then I thought to myself, ‘That’s silly, no use in crying. Everyone trips now and then.’ But this time, I couldn’t help it. I got to the car before everyone else, thank heavens we were driving separately. When my mom got to the car, she asked me what happened, and said she thought I was just playing around, thinking, ‘Why is Heather lying on the floor?’ The only thing I could think to say was “I’m so tired of being sick.” I don’t remember the last time I cried in front of my family, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t really embarassed. I knew I wasn’t well, and I knew the family we were with knew I wasn’t feeling too good. I knew they’d understand. It was just the thought of being so young, and so old at the same time. I used to be so graceful. And now I keep tripping over air. And not only that, I can’t think, I’m having problems talking… It just hurts so badly. I’m just so tired of it. I thought I was getting my break finally. I was feeling better for a while. I really honestly was.
Now, two hurt wrists and a sore right hip later, I’m feeling thoroughly worn out. When we got to lunch at Shoney’s, I managed to stop the tears and pull myself together. I sat at the table silently because I knew if anyone asked me what happened I couldn’t hold it back. No one asked, everyone acted like nothing happened. Except for the adults, they kept looking at me with that look. I knew they were concerned, it wasn’t anything embarassing. It’s just still that look. I kept from looking at them, but those same six words kept prancing around my head. ‘I’m so tired of being sick.’
I wasn’t hungry, so under the cover of saying “My stomach hurts”, I didn’t order anything. Lath, my mom’s best friend’s husband that I mentioned yesterday, looked over at me and put his hand on my shoulder. He asked very sweetly, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking a bit soft in the eyes.” I couldn’t say anything. I just shook my head no, saying that I wasn’t okay. I put my head down on my dad’s shoulder, trying to hide what I knew was coming. I sat there mildly composed for a moment, and then I felt it. A single, solitary tear ran down my right cheek. That was it. Then everyone had that look, and I again lied and said my stomach hurt. It wasn’t my stomach, it wasn’t my ego, it was just everything. I asked if I could go out to the car to watch a movie, so I left and watched the League of Gentlemen until my laptop’s battery ran out.
We drove back home from South Carolina after that. I wanted to cry the entire way home, but I held it back. Thankfully we had a nice adapter cord so when the car was running we could hook the laptop up to the cigarette lighter and watch movies on the way home. ‘Blue Hawaii’ and ‘The Sixth Sense’ kept me together, but I’ve lost it again. I wish I had tissues in my room. I don’t want that look again when I go back downstairs to eat. I haven’t eaten anything since we got TCBY after Shoney’s to try and make me feel better. After all that my stomach really did hurt.
Now I’m home again. After all that, I’m finally home again. I knew when I woke up today that something was off. Now I’m trying to work up the courage to go get a full physical. I can’t imagine what could be causing this. My ulcerative colitis has technically calmed down, I’ve had physical after physical, test after test, and nothing’s showing up. If I’m going to die I wish it’d just get itself over with so I don’t have to die with all my bones broken from falling down the stairs.
I want a hug.