Stats up.

You all have surprised me. Honestly, I expected to get more shit for that last post of mine. 

I want to say something on behalf of Ryan. I know he's angry right now, but he has the right to be. We all do. He is angry that people who have for so long picked on this girl are finally looking at themselves. He says they are being "para-sympathetic". He says they are being ignorant to what they've done. I told him no, they are looking back and being regretful. I do agree, BRF, things need to change. Starting yesterday. 

My stats on this blog went up today. I want to thank you all for understanding instead of being angry. I know we all have our own coping mechanisms. I also want to ask everyone, no matter what religion you are in, to pray for this girl, to pray for her mom, to pray for Ryan, for anyone and everyone who has been hurt. For anyone who you have caused pain to. For everyone you have stood by and watched be hurt. If you are Christian, Pagan, Jewish, Buddhist, even Atheist, send out positive energy for these people. I will be doing the same.

Keep this memory as a reminder. I wonder, how many deaths does it take? Across the U.S. there are similar stories of boys and girls. We may not know exactly why she did this, but there can be regret in what we have done. I will not lie, I am among those who have regretted. 

Thank you everyone,

Blessed be.

That makes two.

Someone in my school, who I wasn't really friends with (but was at one point), died last night. I was told this in Guidance today, and then they brought my boyfriend in to tell him too. I suppose they thought this might be okay because I could talk to him. He is much more hurt over this than I am. He's reacting in the same way I reacted to Marshall's death 3-ish years ago. Crying, then calm, then more crying. Well, not really crying. I hadn't even gone to Guidance because of that, I had gone to get a class changed. So they decided to tell me, then him. So we went home.
There are some minor differences in the way he is acting about it: anger, forgetfulness, and I feel so horrible. I am just as guilty as the rest. I stood by and let all of these people hurt her, when I knew it was wrong. I'm sorry English 11 teacher, (Mr.W), I ignored my little voice. And Ryan feels as if it's his fault. I'm not going to lie, but when he told me he loved her (not in the way he loves me, though) today, I got scared. I don't know why.
There was a time when I thought no one else was supposed to miss Marshall as much as me. No one even knew I existed. I got no hugs at his funeral. They all went to Tiffany. Sometimes, life sucks. I suppose that's how Ryan feels right now. I'm just so sorry.
I suppose a coping mechanism of his is trying to forget for a time so he won't break down. He's ignoring it. I feel bad, because I know deep down he wants to cry. He's taking it out on a lot of people. I've been through this before. I'm the calm one, keeping him, and others, together. I'm so sick of having death in my life.


On a lighter note, I feel like working on my story, and I haven't today. I've been napping. But I will, hopefully. Also, I switched my Computer Apps class to 3-D design. Honestly, I'm horrible at 3-D arts (sculptures) but at least it is challenging. Computer Apps was like nails on a chalkboard to me. It is about 100% below my skills. And come on, people should know when to use has and have, and is and are. I learned how to type in 5th grade. Was there nothing else guidance could put on my schedule?

I'm going to Comic-Con in July! I can't wait. Not only because I loved being in California last summer, but because, hellooooo, it's Comic-Con. Even the name excites me.

In my Creative Writing class Mr. Flannel gives us story prompts and has us write stories based on those ideas. If I had remembered to bring that notebook home the past few days I'd have some cute little short stories up. I'll try to remember. I've been getting in touch with my dark side lately, and I suppose that's my epic psychic-ness foreshadowing some events. I even felt sick today.

That's about it tonight. Blessed be.

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. Blessings and good energy to all.

I like Cap'n Crunch

So Mr. Flannel doesn't like his nickname. But think about it, I could call him multiple other ones. Fluffy. Mr. Pants. Beard-guy. I think Mr. Flannel is nice compared to those. (I'm teasin')

I started the next part of chapter four today (I've been lazy, I'm sorry!) and have realized that I like to write things out on a day-to-day basis. This can be good and/or bad. It's a good thing I know what "rough draft" means (wink). It goes kind of fast at the beginning, and has some unusual twists. I just wish Ryan would get to reading it and help me out already.

Speaking of Ryan, he proposed last night. I know, I know. I'm so young. I have my whole life ahead of me. But you know, it is my choice, and it was so sweet, even if we aren't officially engaged. He's a sweetheart.

I made a new Sim yesterday as well, and I think she's gorgeous. I'm still debating on whether or not I should put her up for download (and oh no! I still need to get her head shots!). Here is her link: Amoetta Miller: BJD. I am looking forward to having her in more photo shoots (and redoing that blog's template).

Also, if you haven't read either of my mini-stories (I'm calling them mini now, 'cause it's just shorter than saying they're unfinished sim stories) here are those links: The Slate Themeacy and A Legacy Experiment. The reason they aren't finished is because (in the middle of both of them) my game crashed and deleted its own folders. Pretty sucky.

I was thinking about food today, because I'm always hungry (due to my extremely high metabolism) and my mom mentioned cereal. I told her to get Cap'n Crunch, my favorite cereal. I haven't checked the cabinets yet, but how much do you want to bet she didn't get it?

I also wanted to share this:

We are all the same, guys. The only reason the "Human" arm is cut off there is because the picture didn't fit. It isn't mine, I found it on Facebook.

I hate that Google is buying everything and linking accounts to the same computer. Like, I have one email I use for YouTube, another for blogspot, and another for Gmail. Why? Because at the time, I had a Yahoo! and a Gmail. I used the Yahoo! one for blogspot and for YouTube, except now it's linking blogspot to YouTube to Gmail, and I have to log in and log out whenever I want to check eMail. Why? Because when I used my Yahoo! for blogspot it made me a new Google account. FML.

I also wanted to share another picture:

This is my new avatar for IMVU (actually I just switched back to one of my favorite old ones). Isn't she purdy? I find I'm rather good at taking screenshots now-a-days. 

Stressed

I know I stayed home today, but I slept most of the day and my mom stressed me out too much for the rest of it. I'm sitting there watching House minding my own business and Jenny and Corbin come home on the bus. I paused the T.V. because they tend to make noise when they come home, and I can't hear the T.V. when they talk. This wouldn't be a problem, except now, I'm automatically the "bitch" because I paused the T.V.

1). The show isn't appropriate for 6 year olds.
2). Jenny has her own T.V.
3). I just wanted some peace and quiet with my show. For an hour.

I decided to be the mature one and turn off the T.V. and watch it later (yay DVR). The minute I did that was a big deal to little miss spoiled effing brat.

"I know you turned that T.V. on at 3:15 because you knew they were coming home. You're vindictive like that."

... Yeah, mom. Who the hell is immature now? I love my mom, but sometimes... Yeah. I guess it's a teenage thing. Apparently my "time" is an hour long. Okay, then how come Jenny is allowed to wake up at five in the morning to turn the T.V. on, watch it until six p.m. and then eat, then watch more afterwards. When she's finally sent to bed, Corbin gets the stupid remote and watches football the rest of the night. This is why I record things; so I can watch them later. Except now I get yelled at for recording things because I'm "taking up all the space on the DVR by recording like fifty episodes of House and Dexter"....

Last I checked, I delete things after I watch them, and I only have 5 episodes of House and one of Dexter. Jenny auto-records Phineas & Ferb, Oswald, Dora, Blue's Clues, and other retarded shows that she can get on her own cable T.V. I showed mom the damn list and she says "Oh, I don't know how those get on there," and completely denies the fact that Jenny does it. Even after Jenny admits to it.

Is now the time I can say FML? Or does it really get worse? I know it's just a T.V., but I'm not a big T.V. watcher. This is the first time in a week and a half that I have even set foot in the living room. I need a job. Can't get one. Why? Mom's too lazy to "waste gas taking me back and forth." Apparently it's counter-productive. Sorry, I just want to be prepared for the real world mom. Stop being a hypocrite.

Sims 3 works again

I feel like crap today. Hurts to breath, major chest pain, sinus pressure, that sort of thing. And I'm nauseous, but I suspect that has to do with not having eaten since last night. (Yes, I'll go eat soon.) So I'm not going to school. This is okay with me, I have some people in each class that I can Facebook for assignments.

I finally got the Sims 3 running, so I might be able to draw a little inspiration from that. I realize this blog has turned more into a blog than info about how the story is going, but mostly that's because I've just been talking, and have been getting writer's block more than I should. At least I'm still writing some every day.

I'd also like to remind readers that this story is based off of my themeacy story on the sims: The Slate Themeacy

It's the final countdown...

I decided to post again, today, because I just have so much to say. Well, kind of.

So Ryan's new favorite word is "derp." I'm not sure why. He's said it like 83 times today. 84. 85. He just said it twice. It's his new replacement word for swear words and other stupid stuff. So dumb. It's cute though.

Today was (I believe) our last color guard day this year, and our captain's last day altogether. We will miss her. Bunches. I only have one year left after this. I hope that my future college has a good color guard program. If I go to college. I'm thinking about applying to Columbus in Chicago, majoring in performing arts and whatnot.

We only recently got T.V. (dish, I think) and I'm already tired of it. I never really liked T.V. but now it's just old. I can't just sit and watch something for hours like my fat little sister or football-obsessive brother. The only things I use it for are Dexter, House, Durarara, and I record those to watch when I'm not tired. I record Thundercats for the boyfriend, and that's about it.

I am addicted to caffeine. Is that healthy? My mom got me a mini fridge sometime over the summer (I think after I got back from Cali?) and it's usually full of soda. Soda is the reason I got the fridge. If I go too long without soda, I go through withdrawals. Yeah, I'd say that's unhealthy. At least I'm not a crack or coke addict. I'm perfectly healthy otherwise.

Ryan is laying on the bed in a tank top playing Runescape. The good: his tank shows off his muscly-muscles. The bad: He's playing Runescape. Runescape? Why? Gross! If I wanted to play something stupid I would play WoW. Or Aion. They go hand-in-hand. I just quit Lineage 2 because of that stupid Goddess of Destruction update (reset my skills? I don't think so) and am still playing Guild Wars after 6 or 7 years. (Can't wait for Guild Wars 2!)
I figure I'll play Guild Wars and/or WoW until Skyrim and GW2, or even that new Star Wars game.

I don't smile in pictures

People have actually asked what's up with my post titles. The answer: nothing, I type in there the first thing that comes to my mind besides song lyrics (because I always have something stuck in my head, usually Phantom.) Hey, look... Parentheses!

I love parentheses, although I tend to use them more often than not. It's because I'm just ninja like that.

Today I have a band concert. Now, normally I play trumpet for band, but since it's still pep band I'm in color guard. (color guard is amazing. I wish we had winter guard. When this season's over I'm going to cry. Also, if anyone wants to go, it's in the Sam Young gym at 7).

During creative writing today (yet, another English class. We started a new quarter, for those readers who don't attend my school, and creative writing is a class) I got finished with some of chapter four. No, this does not mean I was slacking. I worked on it at the end of class, and also at the end of first block. For some odd reason I have computer apps 1. This class is pointless to my skills. It's just like taking keyboarding, only they call it "advanced". I type at 97+ WPM... That's with the speedskin. The name "speedskin" is kind of ironic. Why? Because the stupid thing always presses more than one button at a time, and moves. How fast do we have to type in order to get it off? 50 WPM. I feel like the teacher should know by now that I can get everything done within the first five minutes of class.

WOW! I got off topic. I was going to go on to say that I don't have anything super great to share from the story, but it is okay:

"Amoetta motioned towards a harp, which wasn't there before. It was a pretty silver, with details of flowers and vines along the sides. As Gwen stepped towards it, she felt a force of magic coming off it. She caressed the details softly and slowly, moving her fingers delicately over each side. The strings hummed gorgeously when she touched them."


That's straight out of the written version. That part I already have typed on Ryan's laptop, so it may be a little different when I actually (MAYBE) publish it. I am still considering making it a novel, yes. I have also thought about handing it to my creative writing teacher for a bit so he could give me suggestions, but I thought it too inappropriate (with swearing and whatnot) for school, really. I feel bad, not being able to name my teachers. I think I'll just call him Mr. Flannel, from now on, since I don't know if he's okay with me putting his last name up here. I do have some Russian viewers. (yes, I see your stats).

SPOILER ALERT:
I know, I come up with some weird names. Here's the list: Gwenith, Alister, Agathe, Katsa Jade, Amoetta. Gwen's mom is Sarah Slate, her stepdad is Mike. Some of these are based off of real people, and inspired by my life very much so. (My name is Sarah, my ex is Mike, except Gwen and Alister's relationship is based off of my relationship.) Maybe I said too much?
END OF SPOILER.


Despite alot of the mistakes I make on this blog, I can honestly say I am a spelling and grammar Nazi. The only reason I don't care when I'm typing informally like this is because, well... It's a blog. It's like a journal to me, I don't care how it looks.

For one of my assignments I was told to write a "life story"... We might as well call it an autobiography. Which we do at least once a year. Here you go, Mr. Flannel:

I was born in Springfield, Missouri. Yeah, I know, the "hillbilly" state. I was only there for a little bit of preschool. The only things I remember are a green house with a nice old lady, and playing follow-the-leader in the courtyard of the school building. I remember these with my partial photographic memory.
We moved to Brady, Texas. I'm not sure why we moved, but we did. From my house there, I would walk to my grandparents' house a lot. My dad was a truck driver, and would be gone a lot, and at the time worked for J.B. Hunt. The only thing I remember from that house are an empty back room, making nachos and tea in the microwave, and getting my cat, Kiwi.
After that, we ended up in Stephenville, Texas, where we owned a beautiful yellow house. We lived there for nine years. I started out in a private kindergarten (yeah, they have those) and went on to public school. For the longest while I was forced to go to church. I never saw the point of it. I feel I have always known that wasn't the right path for me. In the Texas schools, I was never picked on. I was an A-B honor roll student, and an advanced trumpet player. When I was halfway through sixth grade, we moved, right after a band concert.
We came to Black River Falls, Wisconsin. The reason we moved here was a mixture of some things. One was money. This economy sucks. Another was because we had just adopted Jenny, and did not want to be in eyesight of her grandparents. When we got here, my grades went down. I found the homework pointless, the ways the teachers taught were horrible. My learning style was/is much different than that of most of the students here. By the time I hit seventh grade, I was the most outcast person in the middle school. Why? I don't know. I actually dared to ask someone why they treated me so horrible. 
"Because... the way you look," he said. I looked down, but didn't find anything wrong with it. I'll say this now, I'm sorry if the way I dress offends you. It's none of your business, only mine. I don't have a problem with it, neither should you. 
I went into 7th grade and barely passed all of my classes. By the end of eighth grade I failed all of them. 
When I got into high school my wardrobe changed dramatically (and my friends hated it). But I think it was for the better. I stopped getting picked on. My grades went up. I got involved in choir and band again, got into color guard, made friends. Life is going good for me now. I am of the opinion that I have too many talents. What use could I have for any more?
Sometimes people are still nasty to me, but just think. Someday, my signature will be worth something, and they'll be the jealous ones.


Last night we had our typical cast party for You Have the Right to Remain Dead at Rozario's. I was singing "Wishing you were somehow here again" out of boredom, and my director calls my name from the other table, and tells me to sing louder. It boosted my self esteem. Not that I don't know I'm a good singer. I just like compliments. A lot. No, this does not mean I'll sing for you. Only if you're special. (evil laugh). Sometimes I'll tell people I'm not a good singer, but this is really my way of fishing for compliments, even though half the time it doesn't work. Women. We do it. All. The. Time.


This has got to be my longest blog post. I had some other things to say, but I forgot, so I'll just leave it at that.