A Plan. (Actually, more of a list . .. )

I swear to God I am just bipolar.

I'm happy but sad and frustrated and confused yet content. All at once.

Today really sucked. Yesterday really sucked. And this week?

It really sucks.

I've only just realized how much I still have to do--and it's kind of eleven at night on a Wednesday, and I have to be up in roughly seven hours . . . And because I'm not going to bed now I'll have to wake up early to get things done.

Friday is when my math test is, when the school spelling bee (which I sort of have to win) is, when my history essay is due, when my interview thing is due, when . . . when everything is due. When everything must be done by. So I'm sort of kind of panicking. I've been busy and thus had no time to study for bio, which I should do since . . . well, since it's basically the most important class I take, and the hardest, but lately it's been the easiest. Today I came home with homework in every subject, which didn't exactly help. Tomorrow I still have to do:

--Regular daily math homework, which I would do in my free period but can't because I have to make up today's homework
--Cumulative math review
--Organize hellish math binder/homework
--Work on English biography project (I'm doing Hitler. It's actually fun. O_O)
--Finish Social Studies essay (I'm so behind on this it's not even funny. I have to finish writing my paragraphs, edit, then write a rough draft. *sigh* Hand-written, too. No typed stuff. And I type much faster than I write.)
--Interview my mother on how horrid peer pressure was in her day. And sit there as she points out to me how pointless this is--which, I agree, it is. But I still have to do it.
--Draw some things for art. Then draw extra credit to make up for the crappiness of the things I drew that I had to draw. But this is due Tuesday, so.
--I'll definitely have bio homework, and even if I don't we have a project due on Monday that we have to finish basically in class Friday.
--Study for bio, for like an hour.
--And whatever Spanish homework I get stuck with.

Then, I have to study for the stupid spelling bee. Because they know me, I swear: They have Borders gift cards. Which is like free books.

I like free things. Especially books.

There is, of course, a more pleasant task I must complete--besides Christmas presents (just a note on that: Bianca's fic, at least, shall be epic. Kal's shall be pretty good, and so shall Storm's and Theia's--the latter of which I must start . . . --and I have no idea for Desy. Crit is getting Halt/Will, of course, and Juliet . . . not sure what she's getting yet. We'll get there.

Anyways. There's this writing contest which I'm entering. And I have hopes, at least, because even though my Spartacus idea killed itself via historical fact (Why, oh why, Spartacus, were you not crucified on the Appian Way like the others? It would have made an epic short story!) So instead I'm using Joan of Arc, and her waiting out the final moments before she's burned alive.

. . . We'll see how badly this fails later. *waves away*

And that is the synopsis of this week, which sucks.

So much for me getting in the Christmas spirit or being happy--which also sucks, because I adore December and snow and the cold and everything. After Friday, I'll be happy. Well, except I'll have to spend all my time on that short story. But after the seventeenth, I'm in the clear.

. . . That isn't actually giving me much time. Crap.

This month goes by so fast. *wistful sigh*

Nearly eleven-thirty now. Must finish homework and manage to print Joan of Arc research without being discovered . . .

--Ave, ever the spy . . .

Thinking

My mother has always warned me that one day my inability to shut up when I should or not have the last word or not know when to keep my mouth shut will end up getting me killed. Or maybe she didn't say it in those words, exactly, but that's the gist of it: One day I will talk back to the wrong person and end up maimed and/or dead. She's probably right about this, yet I still maintain that problem with not being able to be quiet.

So sue me.

How this connects to my current situation, I don't really know. See, Thorn and I keep trying to talk through issues and a lot of them have been resolved, but the fact remains that there were a lot of problems in the first place. So I keep coming back to a point where I'm thinking, "Should I say this? What I think?" And the answer usually ends up being yes.

I've been watching a lot of "Scrubs" lately. Scrubs is, of course, an epic TV show about a bunch of doctors that follows them as they rise through the ranks at a hospital. It also teaches you important life lessons about, well , everything. I think, at least. It's addicting.

Bottom line: I need to learn to shut up, I should also probably go respond to a PM now, and Scrubs teaches you everything.

Now, I'm going to go watch Ocean's. The second one--Ocean's Twelve--and then maybe the third one.

--Ave, feeling . . . optimistic, for once. And maybe actually happy

Amazement

Today I discovered how to check my Blogger stats, and realized something that amazes me: I ACTUALLY HAVE PEOPLE WHO READ THIS THING.

I know, I was shocked too.

So I think I'm gonna cut back on the rants. Seeing as my dear .8 readers might actually not want to read about my woes, and the post below this one was . . . bad. *nods*

ANYWAYS.

I am eating Frosted Mini Wheats. *nods* And I got a new puppy today. He looks something like the picture to the left. Isn't he adoraaaaaaaaaaaaaable?

Only, his ears are different. *frowns* And he has a skin condition . . .

Now he's eating my backpack and it's still cute. Damn him and his cuteness.

Anyways. Lately I've been trying to work on people's Christmas presents a lot, but it's not going so well. Mostly because I keep procrastinating writing whatever I'm giving them. So far the list consists of:

Storm--No idea.

Theia--Writing her a story with Kal. I'm actually quite happy with this one.

Des/Mia--I have no clue. And I still didn't give her a birthday gift. *sulks*

Kal--She's getting a happy!Finnick fic. How I shall write this, I know not, but I'll do it.

Kayla--She'd probably want a slash story. Unfortunately, Slash + Ave = No.

Peter--He's getting a propaganda pamplet for his fake political party (abbreviated as PMS). It's actually fun. 8D

Cez--Uhm. Uhm. Uhm.

. . . No idea. *sulks*

Bianca--I actually know this one and have started it! Bianca's getting a sad cheesy romance fic. *smiles*

Juliet--I don't really have any ideas for her either.

Critic--She's getting a story involving Halt and Will from Ranger's Apprentice. Even though I said I can't write slash.

Jed--I should get her something, since I "adopted" her. But I'm lazy.

That's the list of everyone getting a present from me--and even then I might cut some people from it. Honestly, I'm writing them all stories. And some people I just don't talk to often enough for that. For those who do get a present, it's for putting up with my crap all year round. :D

I should go now. Must work on Bianca's present, and math homework awaits.

--Ave, quite cheerful

PS--Getting my own laptop for Christmas. 21 days to go . . .

*headdesks and doesn't even bother to lift head again*

Here's a lesson to you, my dear .4 readers: If you plan on having a close friend whom you've never met and whom lives multiple states away and you both hang around in the same group of friends, do not estrange yourself from said best friend. Why?

Because said group of friends will never shut the fuck up about them.

Ever.

I'm staring at you, Kal, Theia, Juliet, even if I'm 99.99947% sure that none of you will never read this. But you know what? I don't give a damn if you'll never read this, because maybe someone else will and they'll pass the message along.

Honestly, I do not care if you want us to be friends again. I don't care if it's "hard for you to be friends with us both." I don't. If you have to choose between us because it's too damn hard, then choose, and I do not care if you pick her over me--you've essentially already done that with your seeming inability to shut up.

Those are the two things I've asked of you: Don't talk about her when I'm around, and don't try to make me be her friend anymore. But you couldn't even do that, because it was so damn hard for you to do. You failed miserably in both respects.

I'm sorry that it's "so hard" for you to have to deal with all this and you don't like us fighting--but think for one second, one goddamn second of how it is for me, not just for yourselves. I don't care how selfish it seems, I'm the one who lost a close friend, not you. And honestly, if all of you would just leave it alone I'd be fine, but you're not content that way. You're transfixed on us liking one another again and being friends again, when we can't be anyways.

I love you all like sisters--but you're not making it easy.

My Thanksgiving Gift to You (Yes, You) Part II

November 25th, 2010

12:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time.

Still Thanksgiving, so it's Thursday.

------

This isn't so much a post where I write about me; it's a post for my writing.

Invictus

They decided to execute me at sunset, which left me feeling slightly disappointed. Watching the chariot of Apollo emerge on the horizon each morning and disappear at night, leaving the world immersed in blackness, was among my favorite pastimes. But at the same time, the news caused my heart to leap with joy. My last sight was not to be the faces of the spectators, jubilant at my pain and misery; it could be the sky, streaked with bright reds and deep oranges and traces of purple. And in that, I knew, I could forget my pain and be able to go out of this world adamant in my resolve. I would bow to the Emperor no longer, not even on the verge of death, as he so hoped I would.

The world of Rome is a cruel one, strict in its regime of order. Already I can hear the jeers of the crowds in my mind, waiting for the moment when death leers over me, ready to rid me of all life. But now is not the time to back down in fear. Now is not the time to fail my father and the gods of Olympus. I had given all I had to carry out their wishes, but for the cause, the loss of my own life seemed necessary as well. For Rome, I would do anything. And if my countrymen needed my death to further the cause, to achieve the goal set to me by the gods, and to restore honor, glory, and greatness to Rome, who was I to deny them?

To the people I am either one thing or the opposite: their leader, soon to be their martyr, a man they would die for themselves, or a traitor, the bane of the empire's existence, a nuisance who brought only disorder, panic, and riots to Rome. To myself, though . . . to myself I am simply the man who has tried--the man who tried to fix Rome, to do what the gods wanted done, and, eventually, the man who failed.

------

Entirely unedited, but I adore it. It's my new baby. :D

--Ave, quite happy

My Thanksgiving Gift to You (Yes, You) Part I

November 25th, 2010

11:02 pm, Eastern Standard Time.

On a Thursday morning.

------

I won NaNo. :D

Really, I won NaNo on Saturday, twenty days in, after writing over ten thousand in a single day. So, I am happy.

Today's Thanksgiving, and the thirteenth time I celebrate this strange, strange holiday. But of course, the focus of Thanksgiving is eating (seriously) and it's too early for that. Even apps don't start until at least one, then we have dinner at two-thirty or three, and pie at six, then everyone just scavenges until they go home. We switch off between my aunt's family and mine for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and this year it's their turn for Thanksgiving and ours for Christmas, which is how I like it best--in my mind, Thanksgiving and my aunt's house have a link that I shall never get rid of, for reasons unknown. So I'm at home with nothing to do for say, an hour.

So I thought I'd update this.

A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF AVE'S LIFE OVER THE PAST MONTH OR SO THAT SHE'S BEEN NEGLECTING UPDATING HER BLOG, ENTIRELY UNCENSORED AND WITH NO REGARD TO WHOSE FEELINGS SHE MIGHT HURT OR EGOS SHE MAY BOOST BY WRITING THIS

Lately, I've been writing a lot of rants--deciding a lot of things and then immediately beginning to question those decisions. The focal point of all these rants turns out to be one thing, a thing I don't particularly want to talk about to the world but will because, for once, I'm going to get it all off my chest. That point is Thorn, my former best friend, and I feel that the best way to describe this is Rant VII, written in English class a few weeks back It's not nearly as bitchy as so many of the other rants are, and it gets it across. And it was originally addressed as if I was going to send it to my online friends as a whole.

Cue Rant VII

-----

I don't like this--any of it, there's this strange sense of foreboding about . . . everything. Nothing is sure, nothing is rock solid, and all is subject to change in a second, and that scares me. But what none of you seem to get is how much it all gets to me, and how much it bothers me, and how what you do or say or think or how you act could affect me and how I might end up feeling over all of this. God, couldn't you at least learn some tact? I don't care how selfish it sounds, or what you think of me, because the truth is that I honestly believe you should have thought about all of that before you went along skipping on your merry way and singing praises to the skies that she had returned. Dammit, it freaking hurts, okay? It hurts when you used to be best friends with someone and then you're not and everyone won't just shut the hell up about her. It hurts, dammit. You're just putting salt on the wound--no, you're pouring salt on it.

I know what you all want, and honestly, I don't see how it corresponds with what I want, what I need if I ever feel like remaining legally sane. You all want us to be best friends again, and you all think it's so damn easy to just do that--but it's not. I'm a prideful person, and I know that. I never said that I wasn't. I don't apologize unless I sure as hell know that I mean that apology, and that's why I haven't. I don't know if I'd mean it, I don't know if I want to be her best friend again. And even if I was, think about it, just think about it: How would it effect today's dynamic? Everything is different now, and that can't be denied.

I don't know a lot of things about this whole ordeal, so I'm just going to keep adding to that list until you can figure out how freaking indecisive I am over this and maybe you'll see all the grief behind it. I don't know if I even want to be her friend, and I don't know if I think any of this is good or bad, and I don't know what I want. What I do know is that change screws everything up, and I also know that talking to her also scares me. I also know one key thing:

I am not that girl who came on forums last April/May anymore. I'm a different sort of person, because I know more about the world now. I don't try to fool myself with fantasies like I used to: The only things I bother to dream of are things I know are achievable, if I work for it. And I don't entertain myself with things that are a waste of time, or at least I try not to. I've been out of sorts and I'll admit it--I'm sort of a different person, but I've maintained the fundamental bits that make up me. And new _____ is not the same as old _____. And, for reasons unknown, new ______ finds everything she does increasingly annoying to the point of wanting to roll her eyes and stab a pillow, but refrains from the latter. And dammit, I never saw her anyways. She was fine ignoring me, and frankly neither of us attempted to stay in contact.

It was over and done with before the day we fought, guys. I knew that, and I don't know if she did, but I did. And the first day, I was happy with it--the whole situation had been making me miserable since July. The first day, I was a bit shellshocked, but at the same time, it was over with, finally. But of course, none of you ever let it die, you insisted on talking about her and sobbing and going, "THORN'S GONE?!" and similar shit while I was right there, dammit. And no one bothered to think: Oh, Ave's just lost her best friend. Maybe talking about said best friend will not help the situation. Seemingly, that occured to no one.

I can't blame it all on you, and I know it. I know I was mad at you, and that I'm still kind of mad at you, but I can't stay mad at you--I do love you all like sisters. And so I don't care so much about everything that bothered me before; you know, how you always grouped me with her incessantly and never could realize that we're two separate, entirely different people who only seem similar at first. And that's a big factor too--we seemed so similar at first, but we're not. We really don't look that alike either. We're not the same person, nowhere near it, and it seemed like no one ever realized that.

But what you need to realize is that, until I know for sure that what I want is to be her friend and figure out what will happen from all of this and if this is what I truly and actually want, and then see how it's going to affect what I have now. Because, honestly, if being her friend gets in the way of something else that I already have, something that's currently not messed up, I'm not messing it up for her. I'm sorry, but it's not worth messing up something whole for something jaded, complicated, and subject to extreme change.

----

It ends there, as does this blog post.

--Ave

Update

Orite I have a blog.

Actually, I didn't really forget about this thing.

Instead, I have been overwhelmed by public enemy number one, or what should be (after Sidney Crosby) public enemy number one: NaNoWriMo.

It's not difficult so much as time consuming.

*an hour elapses*

Anyways. I spent forever writing NaNo and so don't get to finish this correctly.

But I hit 20K. *celebrates* And my overall goal is to get 75K, which may not happen, but I'll definitely get the 50K.

--Ave, thinking of nothing but NaNo