Better Late Than Never, Right?

I only realized yesterday that Josie tagged me onto this questionnaire blog hop thing, so here I am to give you my answers. Sorry for the delay!

1. Why did you start blogging, and what do you like about it most?

I started blogging by request of a friend ;) Josie practically blackmailed me into starting one up. My favorite part, I've gotta say, are the comments. It's one thing to write something, but it's a totally different thing to know that people read and care about it.

2. Do you have a Comfort Book that you read when you're sad or emotionally traumatized? And if you do, what is it?

Yes. My main go-to book is Heaven to Betsy, although anything I can read for a second time is comforting. 

3. If you could go on an all-expense paid trip to anywhere in the world and you could take one friend, where would you go and who would you take?

Oh, this is cruel. I'd go to Europe and mostly visit England and Ireland. And Italy. And France. And while I'm there I may as well pop into Spain. Basically, Europe. The one friend part is the tricky one. I think that the most fun would be to go with a huge group of people, so this one will require a brainstorm. I think I'd either choose Tacy Kelly or Betsy Ray.

4. Favorite quote off the top of your head. Go.

I'm going to cheat and copy the exact quote: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

5. One movie you never get tired of watching is...? Why?

Just one? You sure are making this hard on me! I'm going to say the Avengers because that was the first movie I went out to see multiple times. 

6. What's your opinion on rainy days?

That we don't get enough of them in California. Although, I think living here has made me really appreciate them. I love them to bits, but I honestly couldn't live without the sun. So, basically, I'm happy when they come but can manage when they go.

7. If you had a pet hedgehog, what would you name it?

At first I was thinking John (after our lovely little hedgehog/otter team), but now I realize that everyone else will be thinking the same thing. Instead, I think I'll go with Reginald. I've always liked that name, but I don't think I will ever have the courage to burden even a character with that outdated moniker.

8. If you were an animal, what kind of animal would you be?

This question has been the subject of numerous discussions, although it was never very hard to decide what I was. I'd be a dog. Happy, people loving, energetic SQUIRREL...you get the picture.

9. Tea or Coffee, and why?

It depends. I'm not a die hard either way. I guess I like drinking coffee with friends and in company, but while I'm by myself just doing school or writing tea is the way to go.

10. If you could spend a day with any fictional character you wanted, who would it be and what would you do?

Oh dear. Any fictional character. Hmm. Well, I could meet Steve Rogers and go save the world, or I could have  tea with Miss Bennet, or maybe steal a pirate ship with Jack Sparrow...but...I think I'm going to pick spending the day with Johnny I-Don't-Even-Know-His-Last-Name from Penelope and go on a picnic. Sorry I'm ending on such a sappy note, but it's the truth.

Good Morning. Well, Evening Now.

It's been a while, hasn't it? As always, I have an excuse ready for this week: the weather has been amazing. Let me clarify. It's been beautiful for more than a week, making it absolutely impossible to work inside on school. I always end up staring out the window, thinking about awesome things (aka NOT the Spanish Inquisition or Latin declensions).

But seriously. It cruel, how nice it's been. Blue skies. Puffy white clouds. Sunny. Breezy. Warm. It feels like summer, except that I'm guilty about not doing school. Fortunately, my mom is taking me out of my biology class, so I have one less (official) subject to work on. Unfortunately, the deal was that I take up another subject for the rest of the year. Bleh. Why does everything have to have a down side?

The weather's too perfect to be sad, though. Let's see...something nice to talk about...Well, I've had a super jam packed weekend (surprise surprise). Friday brought back my town's Cruise Night where tons of snazzy retro cars come and park on our main street to be observed by puny mortals like myself.* It was pretty gnarly. I don't really think of myself as a car person, but on nights like these I go absolutely crazy. The cars are just classy, not to mention their stellar paint jobs.

That was pretty fun, but I must admit, the highlight of the weekend was when, after seeing Captain America 2, half the town plus one came back to my place and we broke out the chocolate fountain. Saturday nights in Lent are the best. There were not a few eating contests, which, though I did not participate, were entertaining to the extreme, and a few wild games of fooseball. I am ashamed to say that I've been losing my touch, and can no longer call myself the reigning queen of fooseball, but those games were able to return some of my former glory.

And speaking of former glory, I love biased teachers. On Saturday at midnight I sent in yet another stingily written essay for history and lit., and today received the news that it had received an A+ and an A- respectively. I've really been fudging on these past few papers, but apparently my subpar is above average, or at least average enough, which is gratifying. It's nice to know that I can do something well, even if it isn't my favorite thing in the world.

Well, I'm off to finish the laundry and try to go to bed early. It's pretty sad, actually, because one of my Lenten resolutions used to be to get to bed before 10, and it only lasted for the first half week of Lent. But everyone has a second chance and who knows, I may get the rest of these. Maybe.

Peace.


*I don't know where I come up with these phrases. I think it happens when I'm hyper. I won't keep mentioning it, but I apologize for my somewhat wacky wording.

More On YG and Frankenstein

Sorry for bailing on last night's post. It was late, and my brain was fried, and the post was long enough as it was. I'm afraid to say that I don't have much time right now either, seeing as I'm in the exact same predicament. But this was really powerful for me, so I can't just not say it.

Something really struck me last night in a talk my youth group leader gave. It was the feast of the Annunciation yesterday, and she was talking about something called Marian consecrations. It's where you offer your whole life on earth and eternity in heaven to Our Blessed Mother, and she, in return, intercedes to her Son on your behalf. She said that the best way to prepare for a Marian consecration is to learn about Mary, so she talked for a bit on the wedding feast at Cana.

This story is one of the few events in the Bible that records Mary's interactions with Jesus, and, even though hers is such a small "role" in the story, it really shows us how Mary intercedes for us. When Mary saw that the wine had run out she did not go to her Son to wheedle or demand a reaction. She simply brought the dilemma to His attention, then told the servants to do as He bid. That's how she responds to our prayers, too. She works as a mediator, presenting our intentions to her Son, then preparing us for His grace. We just need to be open and allow Jesus to work in our lives.


Okay. Now I have that off my chest, and I will probably go on another involuntary fast from posting, if the past is any indication of the future. Hopefully I'll be able to break the vicious cycle and get out of this writing funk. What I need are some amazing writing prompts. I'll dig some up and write a few.

And now for something a little more light hearted. Well, not really. I'm reading Frankenstein for a seminar, which is in no way light hearted. Oh my gosh. WHY does he need to be such a stubborn idiot? I'm only about halfway through, but I'm about ready to strangle that guy!

I'm sure there's more to talk about, but that'll have to wait for another time. Have a nice rest-of-your-Wednesday and don't read Frankenstein unless you want to hate humanity.

I Just Love Youth Group

I just got home from another youth group...gathering. I guess it's just youth group. Whatever. I've had mixed feelings about youth group for a while now. I love my friends, and I love getting together to party, but I've always felt that youth group is not the place to do it. I always wanted it to be set apart; something we could do to break the pattern of our everyday parties (I wish!). This past semester there have been some major changes, but it's taken some time to find the happy medium.

There were a few weeks where we spent the whole hour and a half on Bible study, which just burned everyone out. I mean, I love Bible study, but it can be trying to spend so much time on it, especially when half the room is trying to discuss and the other half is poking fun at the first. It leads to me getting mad at people, which is not a pleasant feeling. I hate hating my friends.

At the same time I don't want it to turn into just a plain old party. Now, I'm not saying anything against parties. I love parties. Anyone who knows me, or even reads this blog, will almost definitely have that fact already implanted in their minds. But I do like a little bit of color in my life (I think I inherited that from my mom), and I looked to youth group for that color. I hoped it would be a time to discuss our awesome faith with our friends. It isn't a subject that comes up explicitly too often. I find it hard to talk about the faith with friends not only because we all share about the same extent of knowledge, but also it's something so personal that, unless considered in a not-giddy environment, sounds hollow and laughable.

But twas not so tonight. Tonight a bill was passed to limit the Bible discussion to fifteen minutes, and we were able to keep relatively quiet during that time (okay, not really, but it was just a bad day for that). I think that this will really help keep the majority of people interested all the way to the games at the end.
And it worked like a charm. We stopped the discussion right on the dot, and, after a small talk by one of the leaders, got right to the carefree game portion. I've gotta say: having finished the Bible study I was able to appreciate the games so much more.

And now it's ten thirty and I just realized that I never got to the point I came on here to make. I didn't originally want to give a detailed analyses of my views, but the consequence for my ditzy-ness is that now there isn't enough time to talk about the really cool thing. I'll just need to tell you tomorrow. G'night!

I'm Dyin' Ova Heer

I feel like my feet are falling off and I can't move my leg. There are multiple possible diagnoses are available for these intense and highly rare symptoms. For example: I may have just survived the initial raid of the zombie apocalypse, sustaining minimal injuries after the night long chase. Or I may have just come back from my martial arts competition, winning first place and getting ready to move on to the state championships. Or I may have just played four stellar games of volleyball, followed up by a super long game of barefoot soccer. Yeah, let's go with that last option and pretend to keep it real.

There really is nothing like sports. Nothing is more rewarding than a some friendly, competitive games. I have a lot of hobbies, but I think that sports may be my third favorite (high praise when you see my list of favorite things), trumped only by hanging out with friends and eating ice cream. It probably has something to do with the easily acquired skills + strategy + friends. Nothing is more satisfying than that recipe and a healthy dose of sportsmanship.

Actually, that's where sports can go terribly sour. I've played my share of games that, in and of themselves were great, but were played in such a way as to make the whole experience miserable. Sometimes people get too caught up in the game, and forget that it's just that: a game. Games should be fun. Granted, competition is one of the things that makes it so, but we sometimes have a tendency to take things a little too seriously. My brother played in Little League a few years ago, and it would always be a chore to watch his games, not because they were boring (I actually love watching baseball), but because there were always those families who couldn't loosen up and were screaming bloody murder every other play. Twas not particularly pleasant.
The thing is that I can't balance my competitiveness. I'm either way too invested (aka shouting myself and my teammates down) or not in the game at all. It's the hardest thing to get the right ratio of laxity and drive.
The best is when everybody's super chill about the game. No crazy expectations or goals, just a lot of team spirit and friendly banter with the enemy opposing team. It's games like those that I'm addicted to. Just a bunch of friends playing for fun.

And that, my dear reader, is why I'd never make it in sports. Despite my overwhelming natural talent at many physical activities I 1) wouldn't be able to handle the stress, 2) can't stand poor sports/non-team-players, and 3) it just wouldn't ever be fair for the other team.

Also, I think the physical exertion would kill me. My feet will likely never recover, and I'll just have to limp lamely through the rest of my life.

Time For My Weekly Post...

I've been super behind in my writing lately, so finally I just set myself the goal of writing up a blog post today. And I'm going to fail in that, too, since it's getting late and I want to go to bed. Anyways, here's something.

Write a letter to Writer's Block, parting ways forever.

Dear Sir,
It has come to my attention that your behavior has been causing our employees unrest. While I allow that inspiration should not be awarded unscrupulously, I do believe that it's occasional benefit must be granted to customers at least once every blue moon. Their satisfaction, after all, must be considered and acted upon.
This is not the first warning, I believe, that you have received. There have been several instances of your incompetency over the years, leaving the management to clean up the lives of the glum aspiring authors you condemn to failure. I have disregarded the facts and put off this unfortunate decision for much too long. Your stingy efforts to leave the general populous uninspired have given me no alternative, but to relieve you of your position. 
Insincerely,
Me

Okay, I don't actually feel any more inspired, but hopefully after a good night's sleep I'll be able to write an intelligible sentence. Until then!

Just found this blurb that I'd forgotten to post:

I'm very temperamental about my writing. An example: I just had a marvelous time writing a religion paper for school. I'd been dreading it for almost three weeks and today I finally got around to writing it. Which is weird. Usually that combination of fear and procrastination result in a hurried, under-worded essay that is all but incomprehensible, much less fun to write. Not so today.

I just wish I could turn my writing mode on (and off!) at will.  Like now. I'm nowhere near a stopping point in school, but I honestly can't stop thinking about writing. I don't even have anything to say, but I couldn't stop thinking about just sitting down in my quiet room with a pencil and notebook.

One thing that I've been growing used to (I'm not sure if it's a good or bad habit yet) is that I can't write on the computer. For a few months now, my writing on the computer has turned into scrambled essay language. So, to counteract that, I've gotten into the habit of composing these blog-destined masterpieces by hand and spend my waning computer time copying them out on here. It feels more personal somehow. This sounds weird, but I know that I wrote it if I can hold the hard copy in my hand and see the words crammed onto the page. On the computer it all seems so inhuman. I go back to edit and delete half of what I wrote because it just looks silly. I indulge my inner editor and end up deleting half of what I write. That doesn't happen nearly as often when it takes actual time to erase all my words, as opposed to clicking them out of existence. And at least on paper I remember that even if my story stinks, my handwriting is still pretty. :)

Here's another example. I wrote a prompt last week and my friend was reading it straight from the notebook. I had been planning on posting it, but for some reason I was getting really nervous by showing it in it's raw form. It looked so vulnerable. I had to stop it. It's still coming up here, and when it does I'll be fine, but I'm still too emotionally invested in it to expose my precious now.

My history book has been staring me down for the past age and my conscience is starting to kick in. I shall leave you now, in peace, to contemplate the mysteries of my complex writing style. Ciao.