I was in the middle of writing a brilliant blog entry--it could have changed the world, that one could've--and then something randomly happened and I was taken back to the homepage.

Weepy weepy weepy...

More to come, I guess, 'cause I've got nothing better to do.

EXCEPT nibble on my Subway five-dollar-footlong. Or, at least, what's left of it. <3

Mikey it is, then.

Yeah, he was only Andrew temporarily because Drew is, like, my favorite name right now. I knew it didn't fit him. He's a little too short.

So that one drum major we saw last night could TOTALLY have been Allen. 'Cept Allen's hair is longer, and maybe he's a little shorter, but they had the same general shape. Where was he from? Blue Devils, I think, right? Maybe I'll look him up.

I wonder who that Lip Ring Kid was? He was pretty, wasn't he? Hmm....

I feel like writing again--you know, it's that weird emotion that sort of bubbles up inside you, and you wish you could let it out, find an outlet for it all, but you just can't work up the motivation to DO something about it. Ahh... drives me insane.

.:: several hours later ::.

...........What happened?

I was going to post this... Or at least finish it... But... somehow.... I got away from it..... What? Nothing's making sense!?

My brain is weird right now. Probably 'cause I had that huge chocolate milkshake.

Mmm.... Tasty.... Tastey.... See? Can't spell again!?

...Bye-bye! *waves, falls asleep*

Late-night extention to the last bloggie bit.

Freddie-wannabe---I named him Andrew. I don't like it; too manly, old. Makes me think of Drew on the basketball team.

Mikey or Nicky? (Michael, Nicholas) What do you think??

Ah, yes. The crazy character. The character tortured by his/her own insanity, the voices in his/her head, the mad urges that overcome body and soul and logic, the blank spots in his/her memory, only to wake up covered in blood and chicken feathers.........

....I think that was a reference to Chamber of Secrets. ...Don't quote me on that one.

Anyways, I believe I would like to do some more work with crazy characters. I know it sounds harsh, insensitive, something to that effect, but I think they're fun. You know. Human nature, emotions, logic--those are my favorite things to delve into, when I do my serious writing. An analysis of the mind--explaining how concrete a thing can be in one's mind, if one really believes it, even if it doesn't exist--I mean, that's the whole concept the last twenty-ish thousand words of my Whack BANG is based on. None of it exists, and yet it's so real.

!!!!! I love your new idea. I'd love to read something like that, honestly. You gotta make 'em BELIEVE! If your main character/narrator (whichever POV you're headed for) believes it hard enough, then so will we, your ever-faithful audience!!!! That's what I think, anyway.

So, yeah. Crazy people are fun. Now Imma feelin like exploring a different-ish side of human nature, or something like that.

[Yum. My mum's bringing me KFC. Their mashed potatoes are, as the young people say, BOMB.

Ohp. Out comes the Sierra Mist again. *glug glug glug*]

Anyways, I'm looking into returning to love. Elsewise, attraction, crushes, which is something I've sort of thought about before... But, you know, from a different side. You know Jake, that chick I told you about? She's got a thing for Allen Page, but so does this other kid. I don't know what his name is, yet, but for some God-awful reason, every time I picture him I see Freddie from iCarly. Why is this? And why is it only BABY Freddie? Why do these things happen to me??

Yeah... I think it's just a real short story, just to get me writing again. Exercise! *does stoutness exercises... "Up-down-up-when I up, down, touch the ground, it puts me in the mood....."* I wanna play with Freddie-wannabe. I guess he's not so much homosexual as just has a bit of a man-crush--they're close friends. The bit opens up with Jake walking up to him and saying, "I think we have the same problem." Or something.

...Which is a recurring phrase in Whack BANG, by the way. "Or something." I think the explanation goes something like, Who needs concrete answers when you can just wave it all away with an easy, noncommittal "or something"?

....Or something.

....This blog entry feels like it has been very unproductive. Huh. I think I'm just awed into stupidity after your stunning idea. You know, I like it more as the minutes go by. Haha. We shall discuss it tomorrow, at LENGTH.

Oh, by the way, my grandma said we can pick you up around five-thirty-ish tomorrow, so we can get to the stadium nice and early--and I want to get there early. BUT I also told her I wasn't quite certain when your parents would get home, so once they do you can give me a jingle and we'll pop on over!

(that whole sentence sounded really lame... Lame-o..... SUPER FAIL!!!! with a cape...)


EDIT: It turns out there's not much to do on the internet, after all.....

I got 710s on both of my SAT IIs!!!! Woohoo!!! Perhaps life is looking up....?

I'm housesitting for my dad today--he's out of town. Poor Rocky-dog. He just can't take care of himself. Anyways, the prospect is semi-good, as I have to cans of spaghettios, two packs of instant miso, a box of Hot Pockets, and half a footlong from Subway in the fridge. Pluuuuuuuus a big ol' bottle of Sierra Mist. WHOLE bottle.

Ah. Scratch that. Not a WHOLE bottle anymore.

Ohhhh... Sweet, sweet, sweet carbonation.....

I've got music on, and I'm sitting up against a wall in the hallway--plugged into the internet AND the wall in my dad's room. Wireless still isn't working, so I'm hooked up to this funky yellow cord. Buuuut he got a power cord that plugs into the back of the laptop! No more fatso docking station!!! Or, at least, while I'm borrowing this cord... Hopefully he can get me one for myself! (love) Anyways, I'm pretty comfortable. Internet on laptop is effing HEAVEN, as far as I'm concerned.

If Heaven has Sierra Mist. Which, right now, it does.

What's the point in using a cup when no one else is gonna drink any? There isn't one--I'm tellin' you that. I said I'm tellin' you that.

Unfortunately, my mom won't let me spend the night here on my own, which I think is just ridiculous. I'm pretty sure I'm old enough to do things by myself by now, but whatever.....

See, she told me that if I could get someone else to spend the night with me, she wouldn't have to stay. And she kind of doesn't want to, because she's got stuff going on tomorrow. But I doubt anyone would be able to stay the night without adult supervision.... Because we're not seventeen years old or anything, I mean, seriously, I don't know what you're talking about.........

I'm not sure if you'll read this before I get the chance to phone you (I have my cell, by the way), but if you do I suppose you can turn me down in comment form. Maybe, just maybe, you won't have to. Maybe--just maybe--you would be able to stay. And we could write, 'cause I feel like it. And watch movies. And write, because there's not much else too do, honestly. It's the perfect writing sanctuary. Not very many distractions... Kind of marooned here.....

Plus, we could just truck it on down to Foster's, which is literally a fifteen minute trip two-ways, and get some tasty milkshakes, or late-night grilled cheeses. Eh? Eh?

(Canadian?? Eh??? Eh??!)

Yes, I feel like writing again. And I think I've figured a way out to move me gradually from the Whack BANG world back into the open state of mind in which a writer must find herself to produce anything good. I shall do a side-story in that universe! Aww, yeah, man. Pre-Whack Bang. Allen's the feature, 'cause I want to bring him to life again. And no Maggie in the picture at all. And I can use my new character, Jake (who's a girl). Hoorah.

I also figured out just where my ending went (because it came out, but I didn't really get it at the time). Yes, figured it out. Menendian's voice was just rattling around in my brain, so I decided to take what he always said and make it work to my advantage: "Are we satisfied with this ending? Can we believe it? Is that what really happened?" (Even though he hesitates to use such a word...) I need to tweek some things, fix it up, but I kind of doubt anyone will catch it when they read. I might need your help on that.

Well, talk to you later. Thought it was worth a chance, just asking you about it. Maybe you can come, probably not. 'Sall good. Anyways, we have the show tomorrow. Can't even tell you how excited I am about that. I got my hair done all cute today--pre-senior pictures, you know--so maybe I'll still retain some of that cuteness tomorrow night, we'll see.

EDIT:::: Hoodlum has a Facebook. Haha. *snigger snigger*.....

Andrea still has not gifted me with a comment. How cruel of her.

I have nothing to write about, and yet doing so felt so necessary! I wonder why... I ponder... I ponder about my existence in the universe, about my place in it... I wonder why I think about boys so much... I wonder why I always go to the grocery store hoping I'll see that one person there, even though I know it's, like, physiologically or metaphysically or something to that affect impossible that he is there. Duh.

But I am also hungry. I wish I still had that bag of barbeque chips, because they were quite tasty.

A quiz on Facebook told me that my nickname is 75-or-something percent sexy. That's "pretty sexy." Who knew? (That question mark was meant to sound like more of a period, as the question was more of a sarcastic statement, with little or no voice inflection, rendering the question mark pretty obsolete, anyways.) There I go again!

Allow me to begin this blog with the fact that (Strunk and White despise that little phrase) I dislike Blogger/Blogspot/whatever.

Allow me to continue with the fact that I just tried to spell the word "phrase" like this: frace.

...Which is face with an extra r. ...Frace.

Or lace, except with an Fr. Or France, minus the n. Did you catch any of those? In any case, it does not in the slightest resemble the word "phrase," which is what I intended to type.

Ahem. This whole blogging thing is more difficult than I seem to remember. Especially after reading your blog just now--your newest entry. I am quite intimidated at your expertise and the obvious ease with which your blogging abilities come to you.

...I'm writing myself in circles lately. I'm pretty sure that sentence didn't make much sense, if it made any sense at all. Ahh... my head....

My profile picture on Facebook has ceased working. I tried to change it, and now it's just a little x-box (not the gaming system, I'm sure you understand). How frustrating! Infuriating! Incarcerating, and salivating, and circumnavigating!!!!

..............................

More to come when my mind is about me. Tho', perhaps in retrospect, some of the best writing comes when your mind isn't quite about you. Take, for instance, Lewis Carroll, whose name is probably spelled very incorrectly, as is everything else in this blog. His Alice in Wonderland rocks out loud, and he was probably on LSD the whole time! (LSD, not LCD, which I have a tendancy to want to say, and I think I just spelled "tendancy" wrong, too. I bet you anything it's "tendency").

...Or something.

Just to make sure this is gonna work out for me. Uh...... yah.

........Shall I do a dance?