Not In Outer Space

I had a moment the other day during AP English. Not a normal moment, a special one. I had a realization.

What are the two biggest opposites humans know of? The distinction we can all agree on? Night and day. All of humanity, for as long as we've been around, have known of the Night and the Day.

But there's no night and day in outer space.

If our biggest distinction doesn't hold any weight in the vast majority of the universe, why the hell should it matter if you're black or white or Asian? Or gay or straight or bi? Or a Democrat or Republican or libertarian or anything else?

It doesn't.

P.S. I drew a picture I really like that goes along with this idea. If I can find a scanner, I'll upload it.

Addicted to One-Shots

No, this isn't some drinking game in which every round you take one shot for some arbitrary reason, though I may eventually come up with a fanfiction-related drinking game. Yeah, that's right, we're talkin' fanfiction up in here.

For those not in the know, a one-shot is a one-chapter fanfiction. They tend to either be adorable or involve a character's death, sometimes both.

Anyways, I have become addicted to writing one-shots. They're just so easy! Instead of having to type through the boring bits of lengthy multi-chapter stories, I can get out the adorable moment with minimal effort! It's not quite cocaine, but I still feel the addiction is damaging (to my writing abilities, anyways). On the other hand, I've gotten better at writing romantic moments.

Grr.

Lately, I've been incapable of writing. Obviously.

I have all these ideas for posts, but I can't ever just put them out there.

I had a breakdown a while back. Though they say it's impossible, I think I've lost my "gifted," and with it my confidence in my writing ability.

I know it's a bit late to announce, and a bit obvious, but I'm going on an indefinite hiatus.

Jesus Christ, I'm So Goddamn Blasphemous!

Just a little drabble-sketch my friend Persephone and I came up with.

God: "Jesus Christ, those two girls keep taking my goddamn name in vain! It's fucking annoying!"
Jesus: "Dad? Are you okay?"
God: "I'm kidding. Fuckin' Christ, Jesus, learn to take a goddamn joke."
Jesus: "I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Dad!"
God: "Fuck, of course I have a sense of humor! I made chihuahuas, didn't I? Jesus Christ, kids these days have to have everything explained right out for them."

Yeah, we're awful. We know.

This Has Gone Too Far.

Read the title. What do I speak of that is so blasphemous, you ask?

Misspellings. Now, for the record, I don't mean weird words like "Mongolian" and "virtuous." I mean perfectly normal words. Words everyone uses every day. Like "definitely" and "like." Or, as they're apparently spelled now, "defiantly" and "liek."

This has gone way. Too. Fucking. Far. These misspellings disgust me, and I want it to end. I say we start a revolution! A revolution to change the world into a place where proper spelling and grammar makes you a royal, not a geek or nerd- or the forsaken dork. (You know what a dork technically is? A whale's penis. Now you know.)

A revolution! Who's with me?

Nobody?

Ugh.

School Internet

Since I live in Nashville (Davidson county) and Harpeth is in Kingston Springs (Cheatham county), I'm actually not supposed to come here. Nobody really cares, though. I keep their test scores high, and if I can work it out so I go here instead of Hillwood (shudder) then boom ka boom, I get to stay.

In order to work it out so I can stay, I'm getting a ride with my friend Tyler's mom (my second period math teacher), Mrs. A. This would work out totally normal, except that Tyler is doing football conditioning or whatever- yeah, I'm not a sports person- and has to stay after school until about four o'clock.

So, to entertain myself, I brought my laptop today and hung out in the library (free wifi and all the books I can read, since Ms. Wuller loves me) for a while. I looked around for information on the publishing industry and talked to a few people online that said since I'm so young, I'll have a hard time getting published. "Why?" I asked. 

"Because young people aren't good writers," was the common response.

Ugh.

I literally groaned out loud the sixth time I got this reply, and Coach Kelso (he does the track team, and was doing some sort of massage thing for the teachers- not sure why he was in the library) goes, "You making much progress?"

"Not really," I say, frowning as I unplug the computer. 

"Uh-oh!" he says. I wind up the power cord. "You doing a research paper?"

"It's more of something for my own interest," I say, and close the laptop.

"What is it?" probes Kelso.

"I'm trying to find a way to publish the book I'm working on, even though I'm thirteen."

He raises his eyebrows, and whether he's genuinely impressed or humoring me, I do not know. "You should talk to some publishers."

No shit, I think, but manage to hold this sentiment back. "Yeah, I think I'm going to Google some in the Nashville area." I realize how often I say that phrase and wonder if it sounds weird. Anyone else in the Nash- erm, living around Nashville- say it often?

"Good plan. I mean, they're probably gonna be really impressed. People like you don't come around every day."

I smile and nod. He's right. Can we say 'confidence boost'? If- when- I get this damn thing published, I'm going to put him in that thank-you section I'm planning. You know, the bit where you thank every person that helped you, and a few that didn't, really?

But I won't overload it.

Anyways, I just glanced at the title of this blog and realized how off-base I just got. Here's the original HOLY SHIT IT IS RAINING REALLY, REALLY HARD 

Moving on. 

Original point: my home page in Safari is blocked. (It's the Pirate Bay. I guess Harpeth isn't a huge fan of torrenting? Psshh, that's their problem, not mine.)

Career Management Success/Business Management Essay

Okay, before I even start with the essay, let me just say: it should not be legal for a class title to be that long. That phrase is six words long, which, in my opinion, is at least three too many. 

The teacher (Mr. Byrd) must have a thing for long titles, because the essay assignment sheet he gave us the second day was titled, 'Essay Title: "Where I hope to be and what I hope to be doing ten years from now"'

First of all, dumbass, that should all be capitalized. Second of all, remove the phrase 'Essay Title.' It is redundant, seeing as it is at the top of the page. Third, shorten it up, or your students will hate you even more than they already do, and they won't even pretend to laugh at your dumb jokes. Even Roupal, or however you spell her name.

I'm glad I decided to type the thing. We were given a minimum amount of 200 words, and mine ended up being exactly 856 words (not including the huge-ass header I had to put on there). Ugh... he better accept it. He accepted Buma's (Buma is the guy's last name, we all call him that) paper at 166 words, so if mine isn't acceptable, I will demand to be transferred out.

I didn't want to be in that class! I wanted concert band, dammit! Oy, vei. (Or however you spell it.)