I think my blog is boring. I don’t do the cool picture thing everyone else does on like a weekly basis. When I need to represent a feeling I can’t put into words, I’ll put a picture up. But other than that, it’s not happening. Andrew calls this my “rant page” as if the blog is all one page. (He knows nothing of blogs.)
Moving on. Being in love isn’t as bad as it has been all year. Still in love with the guy who is completely blind, according to my favorite hamster. Whatever. The year’s almost over, so it’ll probably be over then. I pray that it won’t, but it will, because having confidence in the keeping in touch thing is really difficult. I am trying to focus my doting attention upon my new love, William, the character of my book that is currently in the stage of rewrite!
Rewriting isn’t as hard as writing the book was in the first place, so that’s all good. It’s easier to write it like it’s in the twenty-first century instead of in the nineteenth. It’s a two hundred year difference. My characters are a little more believable, because I have no idea how they talked back then, so there are no contractions throughout the novel. (I mean the don’t, can’t shouldn’t, not the birth ones.) Plus, I can make William look exactly how I want him: tattoos and piercings, wherever I want them. (Hah! You’re sick if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.)
So, I was sitting on my bed the other day, minding my own business, reading my Batman comic book when I realized, life really isn’t as difficult as people make it out to be. I mean, it’s difficult in varying levels for varying people, but my life is fairly simple. If I did my homework every so often, I could probably be class valedictorian. Our class valedictorian has a teacher for a parent, so they expect alot more. My parents just expect me to the best I can. I have a 4.2 doing absolutely nothing. If I tried, it’d be a lot higher than that, but I have aspirations outside of doing homework seven hours a day.
My weekend will be spent doing a research paper, and what little homework I want to do, while reading Michael Crichton’s Timeline, which is an amazing book. I don’t really like male writers. I have three exceptions: Michael Crichton, John Grisham, and The Struggling Writer.
I hope all of you have a fabulous weekend, if I don’t post again until Monday, which is really probable, because I’ll be rewriting! Here’s a picture for you to think about:
Aren’t they beautiful?