Friday, July 27, 2012

I Have Puffy Cheeks.

It's storming!

And as I'm not going to risk my flash drive getting fried from lightning, this means that y'all get a new post! You can thank the storm on your own time, though.

It would help if I had something to post about. However, I really don't. Uhm. Apparently Patrick (the guy who introduced me and Josh, and my co-worker) has been detained or something, and I have no clue what that means. Other than that no one can get a hold of him, and I was asked to find out if Josh or Daniel had heard from him. They haven't. And I think Daniel thinks that I just used this as an excuse to text him, which is TOTALLY UNFAIR, because if I were going to text him I would be up front about it.

Oh. Y'all don't know about that, do you? Daniel and I aren't friends any more, because it hurt Josh to know that we would hang out or whatever. So. Yeah. It's whatever. I mean, I'm not happy, but I understand. I'd do the same thing for Krystal.


I've hit some writer's block, so I haven't worked on any of my novels lately. It makes me very sad.


I know!

I got my wisdom teeth pulled! The bottom ones were impacted (whatever THAT means), and the top ones were normal, I suppose. They gave me some medications that make me sleepy. Pretty much all medication does that though, so no worries. It does mean that the amount of loopy-funny talk that most people get to hear doesn't happen, though. I just sleep.

This has limited my ability to eat, though, and that's no fun. Yesterday I decided that I was going to eat what I wanted anyway, and it didn't turn out TOO badly. Today, though, I've gotten a stomach ache. Not fun.


That's pretty much it. I'm bored out of my mind, waiting for information about Patrick being okay. Mer.

I almost forgot! The Olympics start today! Really, I only get into, like, gymnastics. For the winter ones, ice skating. I mean, the other stuff is exciting, but... yeah. I'll watch swimming too. Maybe dressage. But I probably won't be watching a whole lot.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Some Poems. Yeah, They're About What You Think They're About.

A Round Table

................Guinevere trying to clasp
................Lancelot to her
................Whilst thrusting away
................The king, Arthur.
.....There is no right,
.....Only the wrong.
Lancelot refuses, casts off
And sails away.
Lets his crew take him
Far from the woman
Who loves him best.
King Arthur, a sweet
And gentle man,
Tries to hold onto
The woman
He loves best.
..........................................Life is not a court,
..........................................There are no magic swords.
..........................................No knights.
..........................................No love of the ages.

..................Only Lancelot drifting away,
..................Sails unfurled,
..................Billowing in the wind.
Only Guinevere
Trying to understand
Why she is constantly
......................................Only Arthur, a king,
......................................Begging on his knees
......................................Until he realizes
......................................He can do so much


How Callous Thou Art

When the dust falls away
The girl stands
Unaffected by all the theatrics.

.............................Her soul
.............................A statue
.............................A rock
She cares little for men
And less for feelings.
Feelings have torn her
...............................................With her soul
...............................................A statue
...............................................A rock

....................She cannot feel
When the sculptor
Breaks her

......................................To pieces.

Scuttling Across the Floors of Silent Seas

Claws destroying
What they sought
To repair.
Hands that want
To heal
To love
Can only maim.
....................Cherry red and
....................Expose teeth
....................More dangerous
////////////////////Than they have any right
....................To be.
Oh to be a girl
Instead of monster.
..............................................To have flesh
..............................................Instead of scales.
..........................To have love
..........................Instead of skepticism.

The sirens would be
Stealing a man's flesh
Using steely precision
With teeth and claws

That only want to help the wounded.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

What Happened with Josh, because I Know Y'all are a Curious Bunch

I'm sure that after the last post, y'all have been very curious about what happened with Josh. Well. The fast response is: I ended up liking Daniel, his best friend, as well as him, and that really upset him (which is completely understandable). We are no longer dating, although we're trying out the friends thing.

The longer response is: I ended up liking Daniel. Josh wasn't that good of a fit for me (I did mention hating surprises in the flower post, yes?), and unfortunately Daniel seemed to be a better one. As to why Josh wasn't a good fit: he was all romantic, and was a bit clingy (always holding hands and putting his arm around me and such, which is fine when I want it, but in general I'm not a fan of being touched), and he was just plain gooey. Daniel was more sarcastic and flirtatious, which we all know I like.

So yeah. The text Josh sent me after I told him how I felt about Daniel (he asked, because he had a feeling that I was interested) read:

Hattie, you aren't messed up. In fact, I think you are a very unique individual. Daniel and I are more alike than you know and it just saddens me because I put up a mask when we met. I put up this mask whenever I speak to anyone in public because it is a more socially accepted version of myself. Sadly, it seems as though this was all you knew. I do apologize for possibly making you uncomfortable any time I would try holding hands, kissing, or even giving you those flowers, but that was the only thing I ever learned about any form of dating. If you had known once I had given you the flowers that you would be upsetting me later on, I wish you had said something versus giving me a false sense of security. As much as it pains me to say it, or text it in this instance, I will, indeed, have to drop out of contact with you for fear of being a major asshole because I feel betrayed not just by you, but by one of my best friends as well. I know neither one of you did this on purpose to hurt me and I don't want to deny those feelings, but this entire experience took its toll on me. I'm ready to wear these battle scars proud and go back to my depressing-free life.

Instead of responding to that with explanations, I just told him to come here and see my apology. I have no clue if he saw it. The next day, however, Josh texted me again. And this is the conversation we had:

J: So, if I had been less romantic, more open, and didn't apologize each time I had bumped into you, would you have liked me better? That is kind of depressing to think about since the most fun I had with you was when we were thumb wrestling like cheaters. I very much so enjoy roughhousing and wish that I might have initiated more with you. You know, I had been thinking, and I can to the conclusion that this whole even wouldn't be nearly as depressing for me had it not been one of my best friends. Also, as a totally unrelated side note and just my opinion, I don't think you should ever do a valley girl accent again because it's kind of creepy to be completely honest.

H: It's not about liking you better. There are some things I just don't like, such as romance, that you didn't know about. We've known each other all of a week, so it's not surprising that you didn't know. I had fun then. Yeah, I don't like touching, but if I initiate it I really love roughhousing. It's complicated. I'm really sorry that I developed feelings for Daniel, but it's not like I wanted to. When I realized I had, I was very upset. I'm not a Vulcan. My valley girl thing is supposed to be. So. Yeah.

J: Right, but all of my preconceived notions of dating involved what I had done. I'm not very familiar with how to play the dating game, so sorry it came across as awkward. Don't be sorry that you developed feelings for Daniel, it isn't something someone can control, like in my instance, it is you. I don't think you quite understand when you say you are messed up, that appeals to me. I don't like normal girls. In fact, in the past 7 years I've only developed feelings for 4 women, yourself included. Also, I really wish you had said something to me the moment you started liking Daniel and that you didn't like the surprise when I brought it to you. It hurts because I feel deceived and honesty goes a long way with me. If you hadn't told me because you wanted me to have confidence and leave from my vacation feeling better although your feelings weren't completely in it, then I most definitely feel pitied and that is not something I would ever want. I think the false sense of security came from the sky ride at Busch Gardens and you told me I didn't have to worry about your feelings for Daniel, although I had constantly felt a vide that you had. That might have been another reason I wasn't so forward with you.

H: When I say I'm messed up, I don't mean that I'm weird. I mean that I have severe emotional issues that have taken me years to get to this level of handling things. And what you did wasn't wrong, just wrong for me. Most like all of that stuff. I just don't. It makes me twitchy. At Busch Gardens I had a slight crush, not anything worth worrying about. I wouldn't want to know about you liking another girl's ass, it's just a passing thought. Same principle. I never pitied you, I did like you! It's not impossible for someone to have feelings for more than one person. And yeah, telling you that I hate surprises should have been done, but I still thought it was sweet. Would I want it to happen again? No.

J: I don't want to make you twitchy. I actually hadn't looked at any other girl with desire while we were there. I guess that is true. *points to polygamy* But, as you had just said, you DID like me.

H: Seriously? That's a little strange. Even I noticed girls more attractive than myself. Not sure if you're highlighting the did because I had, or to point out the tense.

J: I had other things on my mind like you and Daniel, so yes, it's a little hard to concentrate on other people. And the former, not the latter.

H:  You had no reason to worry at that point! I told you that day that I'm a flirt. I flirt with everyone. Daniel wasn't anything more than a slight attraction at that point, something I thought I could get over.

J: Obviously you hadn't, but it is whatever. I'm depressed and infuriated at the situation and I'm trying to relieve those feelings by talking (texting) about it, but it doesn't seem to be working. I would suggest that you give me a second chance now that I know more about who you are, but with me going away anyway and you possible no longer interested in this awesome individual, it would be pointless to try and pursue that I believe, or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

H: I would have been, but this whole conversation has proved that you and I wouldn't work. All you've accomplished is making me feel guilty and irate. I thought we could still be friends, but as you're unsure of what you want, I think it's best we just not talk until you can handle it.

J: Haha, okay.

H: Seriously? Seriously? What the FUCK. I can't even. Just. Ugh.

J: I don't believe my text messages were an accurate representation of what I was trying to convey. I apologize for making you feel that way. Once again, that haha wasn't meant as an "I'm glad you feel that way", but rather it seemed as though all I had done was dig myself a deeper hole. I want you to know that I have no ill feelings towards you even if you do towards me sure to my faulty conveyance. It would have been better to discuss this face to face. I'm sorry. I do know exactly what I want. You without a repeat of this.

H: It's okay, I guess. I have learned to express my anger and then let it go. This would have been better in person, yes. Well. I'm sorry, but for now, that's impossible.

J: The depression has been CURED... Well, mostly anyways. Thanks for the talk, you made my day better just by the way. I would much rather have you as a friend than not at all, but of course, I would still want more than that. I value and respect you, so you know.

H: Well, I'm glad that you're feelings better. Starting off as friends sounds like a good plan to me.

And that's where we've left things off. I definitely won't date him again, at least not now. If, in a year, we're in a similar place and are interested, I might go out with him again. But otherwise... no.

UPDATED: Oh, and just so's y'all know, Daniel wasn't interested in me. He didn't do anything beyond flirt back when I flirted with him. 

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

An Apology to One Joshua Shroyer

I am so, so sorry.

Trust me, you can do so much better.

~ Hattie, a capital reprobate

(This has been changed substantially from the original at the advice of one Momma)

Saturday, July 14, 2012

I Gots Me a Boy :)

That boy I mentioned oh so briefly on the writer-type friend post is kind of the sweetest guy ever.

We went on our first date on Wednesday. It was a typical first date: dinner and a movie. He's new to this, and I figured that simple and easy would be best, because he sort of knows how to act on a normal date because of societal norms. Anyway. We went out, and it was fun. He's definitely one of the most adorable people ever. I mean, he asked when he was supposed to try to make a move! Later he asked if he were allowed to hold my hand.

The next day I went to Busch Gardens with him, a co-worker (who is one of his best friends and how we met), and one of their mutual friends. That was insanely fun, because y'all know how much I love roller coasters and the people who work at that park. Josh (that's his name. I know a lot of Joshs. Joshes? Hm.) and I held hands and he put his arm around me and it was incredibly adorable.

Then, yesterday, I'm at work for the day, which is why we couldn't hang out. So he came in, gave me an iTunes giftcard, and then produced a bouquet of daisies that were grown in coloured water so that they'd be blue, pink, or yellow.

That's the first bouquet I've ever gotten from someone outside my immediate family. Even though I hate surprises, I was very giddy over this. They're sitting on my bookshelf, and if I didn't have to leave for work in like five minutes, I would totally take a picture of them for you. I'll do that when I get home tonight.


Pretty much, the only problem is that he doesn't know how to kiss. I mean, sure, everyone can do the basic, perfunctory kiss. But it takes practice and almost training to do the type of kissing that is the most fun. I'm pretty lucky that Jackson had so much experience and could teach me very well. And that I was a natural.

Josh isn't bad. He's not great either, though. I'm not sure how to teach him, considering I've only ever kissed guys who already knew how to. It's okay, though. He's coming along rather well, considering.

So yeah. I figured this would be a nice pick-me-up after the previous bout of sadness.

Monday, July 9, 2012

I'm About to Depress the Hell out of Y'all.

My mom's cat is dead.

Taj has been very sick for a while. He's diabetic, and over 13 years old if I'm remembering correctly. Or he was. Shit. I'm not going to be able to get used to that.

We've had this cat for most of my life. Not as long as we've had Flounder, my baby, but nearly as long. I never really liked him. He's too friendly and fat and annoying. He's not a cat, he's a dog.

You see, my mother found him in the woods by where she worked. He was just a little kitten, all alone and starving. When she left out food for him, wild animals took it. Finally he was picked up by animal control, and my momma and I went to go adopt him. They tried to tell her that he was feral, and she couldn't adopt him. My mother, being the woman she is, stuck her hand in the cage, let Taj purr and love all on her hand, and said, "Does this look like a feral animal to you?"

It took some convincing, but we finally adopted him. He proved to be a lush of a cat. You touch him, and he just purrs and purrs and purrs. If you were sitting next to him and didn't pet him, he'd head-butt you until you did.

In recent years, with the new kids produced by my cousins, he's proved to be very sturdy. He let the kids pet him and shove him and tug on him.

Now, I loved him, but I didn't LIKE him. He meowed at all the wrong times, and got under everyone's feet, and threw up everywhere because he didn't believe in chewing his food. Occasionally, if I felt particularly nice that day, I'd pet him. Flounder never really liked that much, so I never did it when he was inside.


Tonight, while I was at dinner with Krystal after VBS, my momma texted me to find out where I was. I told her. She told me that she and daddy were going to the vet with Taj. He was unable to walk, meowing pitifully, had a really dangerous blood sugar level, and peeing uncontrollably.

When I got home, they were still gone. I settled in to watch River Monsters. My parents got home, and I looked over to ask how everything went. Everything just sort of froze when I saw that my mom was fighting back tears. I stood up, walked over to her, and asked what was wrong.

Apparently Taj ended up getting sicker and sicker. Soon he couldn't breathe. They could have kept him alive, sent him home, but he would have been suffering, and a lot. My family doesn't advocate making a pet suffer just because you don't want to lose them, so she did the only sensible, humane thing: she put him to sleep.

At this point, my momma was pretty much sobbing. Daddy and I hugged her, and that's all we really could do. She has to grieve.

Y'all already know that I'm not one for crying when people die. It seems the case is the same here. I just feel awful because I know that were it Flounder, I'd be weeping and turn into a big-old sack of pathetic uselessness. Just thinking about it makes me choke up.

Josh and Almost Boyfriend have been talking to me, and helping me through all this. They're both really great. I'm pretty lucky to have such great friends who will be there for me.

Sorry for all the sadness.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Super, as in Duper

Last night, I had a nightmare that is actually kind of an awesome story idea. This happens a lot with dreams I have.

So, here's the dream: I'm in Walmart, which is also inside my high school. I'm standing in line, debating on what colour running shorts to get. There's a choice of brown, black, blue, and green. Why I remember those colours, I have no idea. Anyway. I ask the checkout lady what she thinks, and she picks brown.

While I continue to deliberate, there's a big hubbub. A bunch of people with superpowers attack the store/school. Everyone's running away, and I grab a pair of the blue shorts, along with an 8-piece Chick-fil-A nuggets meal with the brand sauce. Don't ask why that's suddenly in the Walmart. I don't know.

Well, apparently the Walmart workers are upset when you steal from them, even during an invasion. I ignore the people trying to stop me and run out of the school/store. It's dark and rainy and everyone's screaming. The superpower people are destroying everything and trying to kill as many people as possible. It's chaos.

I somehow make it to the car, which is my mother's PT Cruiser instead of my little Mazda. My friend Katie is now with me (hi, Katie!), and we drive to my house. There, my aunt is there along with my parents. My mother is trying to cook chicken, even though the power is out and the superpower people are bound to come in and kill us all.

As I rather like living, I go back to my room and change into my running gear. Then, after eating my Chick-fil-A, I fill a backpack with some supplies and say goodbye. I'm not getting killed all because they don't understand that we're sitting ducks.

So now I'm running down this trail that I run down every other day in real life. Remember how it's all dark and rainy? Yeah. That's kind of scary running weather when you're trying to escape from mutant freaks. Well, as predicted, one of the superpower people has super speed. He catches up to me.

And that's when I wake up. Bummer, huh? I want to know what happened!

This morning, after picking up pine cones and washing my work pants, I looked up some superpowers. I'm going to turn this into a story. Yeah, yeah, I know, I have too many stories as it is. Shush. Look at this list of superpowers I found on Wikipedia! I only wrote down the ones I liked and thought might work in the story.

Acid Generation
Animal Mimicry/Shape-shifting
Pheromone Manipulation
Animated Hair
Sonic Scream
Astral Projection
Psionic Blast
Reality Warping
Force Field
Inorganic/Substance Mimicry

Any suggestions for cool superpowers would be appreciated. Most of my superpower people are going to have multiple abilities, because having one superpower person for each one would be a LOT of them, which isn't fair for my protag.

In other news, Slytherin won the House Cup on Pottermore! Yay!

Monday, July 2, 2012

Writerly Friends

Before I start the official blog post, an update on my life: I haven't talked to Winters in over a week, which is fine by me. Yes, he was really attractive and seemed nice. But if he doesn't want to text me or anything, that's cool with me. I've found a new boy toy for the next couple of weeks! His name is Josh, and he's very nice. Skinnier than a rail, but cute and sweet and wears cool shirts.

Now to the real stuff!

I don't like to have writer-type friends. Not because I think writers make bad friends or something like that. Simply because I don't like reading other "amateur" writers' works.

You see, I am a snob. A literary snob, to be exact.

I've been reading since the age of four. I've had a college reading level since the age of six. I've been reading the classics since the age of seven.

My tastes are very well-defined, and I abhor poorly written works. Most books written for my demographic make me want to gag with how trite and/or poorly written they are. Heck, most books in general are that way. Finding a book that I like is a tough job, although I've managed to fill two whole bookshelves thus far, with books stacked on the floor as well.

So you can see why I might be wary of reading another person's work. Half of the time I don't like my OWN writing.

Now, a lot of you are writer-types, and you're maybe feeling a touch offended. Trust me, I'm not trying to be rude. In fact, those of you whose works I HAVE read or seen bits of are very good, if not excellent. However, I feel like this isn't the norm, and I'm bound to come across a fellow writer whose novel is... lacking. And I don't want that to happen.

I don't want to say to a friend, "I'm sorry, but this was awful. I couldn't get through it. You should perhaps try another profession."

Now, for a lot of you, I look at the way you write for informal things. If I think you might have a style I'd like (although I'm aware that your official style can be different. Mine is, for sure), I'll offer to read something you've got. You just have to be prepared for what could be a very brutal review. I have no qualms with saying that something is pedantic or annoying or straight out wrong.

That's all I've really been thinking about lately. I seem to be making more and more friends who are writers, or think they are. Saying "think they are" makes me feel bad, but it's true. Some people think they can write, when they really, really can't.

I really just don't want to be the one to tell them.