Reject Christ, Receive Bacon

LJ Idol - Topic 4 - "Who's That Trip Trapping Over My LJ?"

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 03:39:27 GMT

Oh, it's you. Don't worry. You can stay. I like you fine. It's that other guy, you know the one, if you see him lingering around here, you can tell him to get the hell off my lawn.

...Oh, who am I kidding? You can both stay. The truth is, I write in my LJ because I want it read. I want people to be moved by my words enough to leave a comment. I want people to look at my entries and go, "Man, that kandigurl is one clever lady, I think I'd like to tell her exactly how brilliant she is! What a lucky thing that there's a "Leave a Comment" button right at the bottom of this post!"

Yup. I'm a comment whore. Guilty as charged. I'm loving the crazy amounts of comments I'm getting from these LJ Idol posts. Makes my comment whorish heart sing song upon song of the praises of LJ. I mean, I'm probably taking a risk this week by not writing about the exciting world of sexual ethics, but you know what? My mom reads this. So I'm not going there. Not this entry, anyway.

I have had this sucker since 2001 and I have never, not once, in my entire span here on LJ, considered going Friends Only. I never do friends cuts. I don't have a troll hiding under my posts waiting to eat up innocent passers-by who leave comments. Rather, I have Frank the goat on my side ready to kick the shit out of any trolls that may wander in. (I've had 'em. I blocked 'em.)

The truth is two-fold. Number one, the obvious one, the one I've already stated, is that I love the attention. I love writing posts that get read and commented on. That feeling that my inner dialogue is good enough that someone else out there feels compelled to take a few seconds out of their life typing up a response.

But the second part of it? That's the tricky part. The part I try to ignore, but is certainly there. The idea that really and truly, my posts aren't interesting enough for anyone to give a crap. That I'm not interesting enough for anyone to give a crap. I've got friends (both on LJ and in real life) who simply exude awesome, who garner hundreds of friends without really trying. It's like people just find them, friend them, and stick around to watch the awesome.

Me? I'm a faker. I write these posts in the hopes that you'll see past the laziness, the slob, the procrastinator, the endlessly tardy, the embarrassingly forgetful, and find something different. Something awesome. Something that makes you want to stick around. Because I want you to stick around, even during the times when I'm not so awesome. Even if I don't know you. Even if we've only met because you sent some pixels through the Internet and I read them here on the other side.

That's why I'll never hang a lock on this door. I need that bridge to other lives, to other people, to feel like I'm good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me. I bet I'm not the only one, either. Hell, why else are we participating in this contest? We want people to take the time to read. We want people to care. We want people to comment.

So pull up a seat, friend! Hang out a while! Go back and read old entries if you want to! I'm really an interesting person to know, I swear it, just let my LJ show you...

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 06:25:25 GMT

I have DOUBLED my NaNo word count today! I'm still behind, but it's looking less horrifying. Another day like this tomorrow and I could be caught up and then some. We'll see...

KEVIN SMITHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 09:16:19 GMT

Really? I only have one Kevin Smith related icon? Okay. (Not that I don't love the crap out of this one. It's awesome and mrgazpacho made it for me and it's great!)

So Kevin Smith came to Dallas on Saturday and the thing is, because I am entirely devoid of cash monies, I'd resigned myself to not being able to go. "I have all but one of the Evening Withs on DVD," I said to myself. "It can't be much different."

And then my friend Mike (who belongs to one gutterballjen) was like, "Oh hey, I can't go, you want my ticket? Also there's a meet and greet." And I was like, "................UM YES."

So I went with Mike's brothers, and here's the thing, I freaking love Kevin Smith and he was fantastic and wonderful and hilarious and he talked for three hours and if I wasn't dying of hunger I could have easily listened to him talk for another three hours. And I love him. And all I wanted to do at the meet and greet was giving him a big fucking hug for being so awesome.

SO I TOTALLY DID. I was like, "I HAVE NO CAMERA I JUST WANT TO HUG YOU." (Now I really wish I had brought my camera with me, but when I go to House of Blues, I don't really like carrying anything and I didn't have any pockets and the point is I totally suck.) And he was like, "OKAY" and he gave me a big huge bear hug and then apologized for sweating on me and I had to refrain from being like "THAT'S OKAY HERE LET ME WIPE YOUR SWEAT OFF ON MY SHIRT AND THEN I WILL JUST NEVER WASH IT EVER AGAIN" because I am sane like that.

And anyway, Kevin Smith is totally adorable and cuddly and he TOTALLY REMEMBERED OUR BRIEF TWITTER CONVERSATION. I was like, "I don't know if you remember but you asked on Twitter about the British Office and Tim's note to Dawn," and he was like, "Oh, man, that was you? You totally helped us out!" And then he OFFERED ME HIS HAND FOR A HIGH FIVE and I GRACIOUSLY HIGH-FIVED THE MAN. And then he said how crazy it was to meet people on the Internet and then meet them in real life and the point of this story is KEVIN SMITH AND I ARE BEST FRIENDS AND THAT IS JUST HOW IT IS NOW YOU GUYS.

In other news, I took a bye week on therealljidol even though the topic was really "easy" this week, and I'm really behind on NaNo, but I just bought some TimTams from the store I work at now and I'm TOTALLY HAVING A TIMTAM SLAM WHEN I HIT 10K.

Okay, I'm turning off capslock and going to bed.

LJ Idol - Topic 2 - Uphill, both ways, barefoot

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 05:39:48 GMT

I found salvation in a plastic hula hoop.

It's true. I wouldn't lie to you. I suck at lying.

There's a higher power in that spin, that flow. My sins are forgiven with every push and pull of my hips, my chest, my arms, even my legs. When I'm in a crowd of other hoopers - that is my church. When I'm alone with my iPod and my rhythm - that is how I pray.

I know what you're thinking. "Wait, isn't the hula hoop a kid's toy?" "Didn't that fad go out in the 50's?" "Did you say legs?"

It's okay. You're not the only one. I've heard it all before. Usually when I tell people that I want to spend the rest of my life making a living off of hula hooping, they look at me as though I had temporarily trans-mutated into an emu with a 70's fro. Most people don't realize you can do more with a hula hoop than just spin it endlessly around your waist.

You also might not know that there exists an entire hooping community, with professionals and celebrities, big names and big brands. People spin with more than one hoop at a time. People dance with their hoops. People hoop with glowing lights. People hoop with fire.

I've done all of the above, and then some.

I know it sounds silly to say that it changed my life, but it has. Everyone's got something that speaks to them; that touches them like nothing else before. For me, well, there's something about that plastic circle whirling around my body...it sings to me. Sometimes I sing back.

The hoop made its way into my life a little over a year ago. In that time, I've developed a true sense of direction for my life, something that's pretty new to me. I've never before known (and I mean truly and to my core known) what I wanted to spend my life doing. I'd jump from one thing to the next, feeling pulls and tugs in many directions (or no direction), but never feeling that peace that comes with finding your bliss. I always felt that nagging feeling that my career choice that month didn’t quite fit.

Now I know. I see my path laid out before me, and it shines from the light of a thousandy-thousand glowing LED hoops.

Here's the crazy part: Looking at the past year in my life, you'd see a lot of loss. I lost my job in March. I lost my steady income. I’ve very nearly lost my apartment. I lost more than one close friend.

Losing friends is the weirdest part. You'd think that people who love you, people who have seen you through bad time after even worse time would see, more clearly than anyone, the light that shines in you when you finally discover your true passion. I found out (the obnoxious, painful, and hard way, of course) that for some, it's the opposite. For some, your joy becomes nothing but a reflection of what they lack, and they try to take it from you. Sometimes, the people you thought would stand next to you until your dying day end up crushing you the hardest in their attempt to stop you from rising up.

Finding your bliss is easy. Following it - staying true to it - proves tougher than one might imagine. You have to be ready to struggle. You have to be ready to fight. And you have to be ready to lose.

Is it worth it?

I'll tell you this much. I've only just begun to fight. As long as I have a hula hoop, I know I'll make it through.

Amen.

(This post has been brought to you by therealljidol™)

So. Done.

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:06:45 GMT

So here's the deal. I'm done people-pleasing. It never works out for me. If you're destined to end up hating my guts, may as well get it over with up front, right?

I waste a lot of time listening to people's stories about how so-and-so done them wrong, and pledging in my heart that I will never be that person. Then I waste even more time struggling to keep up appearances that I am not that person. That I'm better than that. That I'll never let you down. I'll even think to myself, "Would I be doing this if I didn't want to look better than that so-and-so I heard about?" Answer? Maybe. But probably not.

Because you know what? Fuck. Sometimes I let people down. Sometimes I am that person. Sometimes I'm going to be the one the stories are about, when you're sitting around, after a few drinks, "You won't believe what this bitch did once." Yeah. Sometimes that bitch is gonna be me.

And from this point on, I'm okay with it. I try to be a nice person, but if being "nice" to you means fucking things up for me, forget it. Let's just get it out of the way now so I don't waste any more time.

Lady Gaga

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 21:07:15 GMT

So I think I'm going to have to buy the Lady Gaga album so that I can hoop to "Beautiful Dirty Rich", because I'm kind of in love with that particular song. But I can't because I'm BROKE.

DID YOU KNOW LADY GAGA IS A HERMAPHRODITE?? I found this out about a month ago and every time I think about it, it makes me bizarrely happy. Like life can't be all bad if a friggen' hermaphrodite is a super famous pop star.

I'm...ending this post now.

Blargh.

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 21:51:23 GMT

Trying to write, and having minimal success. I've written just over 400 words in the past hour. I think I'm going to stop for now, go home and run, then try again.

Bad day, but not as bad as it could be. Work is going well. Want to do some MAJOR CLEANING IN MY APARTMENT today. It really helps me a lot to have someone sit with me while I clean, but I need to get over that because I should be able to just motivate myself to clean on my own. I want this space freaking CLEAN so that I can pull my mind out of funks quicker and put myself in the right head space to work.

Tried to do a health and wellness vlog yesterday but the camera screwed up, and I'm really not in the mood to post it anyway. Ugh, sucky mood, go away says I.

Running will help. My goal was twenty-five minutes today but I think I may try for a solid thirty.

I've got a date with a treadmill!

EXERCISE

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 21:37:34 GMT

So my mom and I went to her neighborhood "club house" to run on the treadmills there today. I've been doing the Couch to 5K thing, and have done some fairly consistent running over the past few months now, but in the Biggest Loser book (which my mom has because it is her favorite show), there's a treadmill interval workout for increasing the pace. I was intrigued, so we gave it a go!

IT'S HARD. I did fifteen minutes of it, then I was like, "Okay, I'm just going to run ten minutes at my normal pace and call it a day." I did run for two minutes at 7 MPH though! BUT....BUT IT WAS HARD.

Blah blah blah. Feeling really good about myself, though. Back to counting calories, since that seemed to be working and also it helped me keep track of my planner, so I stayed better organized with day to day things anyway. I kind of want to get a planner with an entire page for each day, but I really like the one auracel got me, too. I just wish there were more space to write.

UM. THERE'S GOT TO BE SOMETHING MORE INTERESTING GOING ON THAN THE FACT THAT I RAN TODAY.

*thinks*

I got nothing.

OH! I don't know if I announced it on LJ, but I've officially got a job at Tom Thumb. My first day is tomorrow. I'm pretty excited because I'm sick of sitting on my butt in an office, I stopped enjoying my job at RAZ when they took me off the customer service phones, so I'm excited to get back to doing a job that puts you right there with the customers again. Plus, it's two bucks an hour more than I was expecting to make with a job like this. SO I'M PLEASED. Not a lot of hours yet, but, you know, that should get better when they see how friggen' awesome I am.

MAN THAT WAS STILL BORING.

In case you're curious, since I started counting calories and running (as well as continuing to hoop and and occasionally doing some other exercise-y things), I've dropped down to 170, which is a significant drop from when I was my heaviest (202). Although I think I was more around 190 when I "officially" started paying more attention to my health.

Do you like how this entry went one place, went another place, then looped back around to the first place? IT'S THE BEST.

So anyway, I've kind of been wanting to do a vlog on general health and well-being, from the perspective of someone who's lived a generally unhealthy life and is working on fixing things. Would anyone be interested in watching that? Don't know if I'm actually going to do it or not. Maybe I should try it for a month or so and see how it's going and if I'm motivated to keep it up.

OKAY I'M GOING TO STOP NOW BECAUSE MY MOM'S MAKING ME A FRUIT SMOOTHIE AND I WANT TO DRINK THE CRAP OUT OF IT.

LJ Idol - Topic 1 - Empty Gestures

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 00:15:18 GMT

"I'm sorry."

Am I only saying it to move forward, or do I really mean it? Do I even know?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I made a mistake, I'll try harder next time, I didn't mean it..."

What I'm really saying is, will you please just freaking realize I'm human and forgive me so I can try harder to not fuck up next time?

"I'm sorry. I really am. I'll make it up to you! I'll buy you dinner!"

I want you to ignore the fact that I am stupid more often than I'd like to be, and go back to thinking I'm awesome. I'd like us both to just pretend that I never make mistakes, and perhaps with this shared burger, you will never think of what I did to you again.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I had a lot on my plate today. It's just one of those days."

It's not like you never mess up, either, you know. It's not like you're perfect. Why do we go around judging each other all the time when we both make so many mistakes it's impossible to count them all?

"I'm so, so, so, so sorry."

No, I'm not.

(This post has been brought to you by therealljidol™)

Heroes

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 23:50:49 GMT

I wanted to make a post on some of my heroes, and why I consider them heroes and stuff like that. But I think I just want to post this video that one of said heroes posted recently, that's got me bawling like a baby because of how powerfully it impacted me. All of this can be applied to life and not just the hoop.

Apparently we can vote for entries already!

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 06:51:33 GMT

But it doesn't really count, it's just a "test of the voting system" or what have you. (This is for therealljidol, by the way!)

If you think my intro post was worth voting for, you can vote here, I'm in the second poll. But given that it's in alphabetical order, I'm sure you would have figured that out. :)

ANYBODY CAN VOTE, as long as you have an lj, it's not just LJ Idol people!

ALSO, do you guys want me to let you know when new voting is available? (Presumably there will be voting for each topic, which will start to happen weekly VERY SOON.) Or will that just get endlessly annoying? Let me know! I don't want to bug you. Much. ;)

(This post has been brought to you by therealljidol™)

Books!

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 17:03:53 GMT

So there's going to be a story update today, I promise, because I'm working on it right now. I plan to write for another hour and then I have to head up to Tom Thumb. (Because I have a job there, you see. I AM A WORKING WOMAN NOW.) But in the mean time, I keep forgetting to update my Books Read This Year list, so here goes with that:

Book 22/30 - Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan

Book 23/30 - The Realm of Possibility by David Levithan

I really want to read everything this man has ever written, but they're in short supply on paperback swap. They're all on my wishlist, though! Anyway, I liked Boy Meets Boy the best. David Levithan has a way of writing about falling in love that makes you feel like you're right there. He describes it so perfectly, yet succinctly. I'm jealous of his skillz. WANT MOAR.

I'm almost done with Let it Snow by Maureen Johnson, John Green and Lauren Myracle, which I borrowed from auracel when I was visiting. So far it's awesome. There's three different Christmas romance stories by three different authors, but they all take place in the same town and they're all linked loosely to each other. Since I'm a sucker for things like that, I'm really digging it!

Okay, enough talk of books. Back to writing.

I'VE COME UP WITH A TITLE FOR MY NANO NOVEL.

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 07:57:48 GMT

The Wall is a Unicorn.

Inspired by John Green's hatred of unicorns.

Fangirling

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 18:48:51 GMT

THEY ARE PLAYING THE THEME SONG TO THE BRITISH OFFICE IN COFFEE HAUS RIGHT NOW. *SQUEE*

In related news, Kevin Smith totally replied to one of my tweets regarding the British Office.

The tweets went like this:

ThatKevinSmith: Brit OFFICE Christmas special: what'd Tim's note to Dawn (with the paints) say? Totally blanking.

kandigurl: @ThatKevinSmith, it says "never give up". :)

ThatKevinSmith: Via @kandigurl: "it says 'never give up'." The wife and I thank you. Such a killer line. So jealous...

I think it made my whole day. And now I really, really, really want to watch the British Office Christmas Special.

LJ Idol - Topic 0 - Introduction

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 04:54:55 GMT

~~Hello, I am Jujubii, and I'm a level 62 fire mage.~~

Hello, my name is Jessica, and I am a human girl who has been on this Earth for 25 years not counting the time spent in utero. I love pizza. Like, a lot.

I use emoticons to much, but for some reason, only in comments.

I've been addicted to LJ since the tender age of seventeen. Since then I've learned that my entire life revolves around the Internet and I would never get anything done without it. Which seems counter-intuitive since one could argue I waste lots of time here. I prefer to look at it as spending lots of time being inspired by awesome.

My most recent waste of time involved parodying the entire friggen' Twilight series under the LJ name xlormp. This crazy ride lasted a little over a year, and now that the last book is finally done, I'm not entirely sure I've processed it all. The journal made the LJ spotlight way back in the middle of the first book and has opened up the door to meeting some epically awesome LJ folks. Who like reading what I write. Which is totally okay with me. AND ALSO I LOVE THEM. (Them being the folks I've met because of the parody, which is about aliens and not vampires in case you were wondering.)

Other things I've done on LJ involve a lot of Harry Potter nerdiness, and the community hogwarts_elite. I'm a Hufflepuff, and now you can stop staying up all night driven by insane curiosity. You're welcome.

Sometimes, when you are a ~~man~~ woman, you ~~wear stretchy pants~~ dance with a hula hoop. In your room. It is for fun.

Yes, I like to dance with hula hoops. Sometimes those hula hoops are on fire at the time. I would like to make this my profession. But life keeps distracting me. (Not the board game or the cereal. Real Life. "RL", for those of you from the Internet.)

OTHER PERTINENT INFORMATION: Roller coasters. They are made of violently epic win. I love them. Here is a picture of me on a roller coaster.

That was a picture of me on a roller coaster. The Gemini at Cedar Point, in fact. Cedar Point is probably my favorite place on the whole entire planet.

JOB INFO: I am currently Barely Employed after a long bout of being Very Unemployed. I'm actively trying to become Even More Employed, even though I totally hate life as an employed person, but the government has stopped paying me to be unemployed, so it's time to bite the bullet and join the workforce again.

ALSO I AM A NERDFIGHTER. DFTBA.

(This post has been brought to you by therealljidol™)

A Post About LIFE, Because I Do That Sometimes (And By LIFE I Mean Animal Crossing)

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 04:35:44 GMT

So as you all know, it's the Acorn Festival in Animal Crossing right now. And if you don't know, it's probably because you're out doing more interesting things with your life than being obsessed with a stupid DS game. That's okay. I forgive you.

I had a nightmare about the Acorn Festival the night before it actually started. I think it's a testament to how unfortunate my Animal Crossing obsession has become*. I dreamed that Tortimer had gone crazy and transformed the town into a scary, reality-shifting carnival of terror, and the only place I was safe was in the confines of my in-game home. And even then, the weird shit tried to get me.

It didn't help that when I turned on the game to play, Tortimer was wearing this fucking acorn mask and cackling creepily whenever I talked to him.

So you can imagine how traumatizing it was the following day to read this, linked via Twitter by auracel. I read the entire thing after getting home from work, feeling kind of light headed and pretty hungry, and in generally funky head space. Needless to say, I dreaded going to sleep last night a little more than usual**.

*Also the fact that this isn't the first Animal Crossing nightmare I've had. I had another one when I was worried I might never get my golden slingshot.

**I didn't have any weird Animal Crossing dreams last night. Also, my town doesn't have very many acorns in it because I replaced all of the trees with fruit trees. I AM SEEING THE ERROR OF MY WAYS NOW.

Because I'm not writing enough already or something?

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 02:19:41 GMT

I'm going to try out this LJ Idol thing. Because I don't know what it is, really, but it seems intriguing. And that's a good enough reason to do ANYTHING, right?

They're making me make this post.

HA RAH 30K YARS.

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 06:33:39 GMT

421.27 / 500 dollars for rent. 84% there!

30498 / 42127 words. 72% done!

I looked up, hoping maybe somehow, maybe, if I just wished hard enough, Wake wouldn't be standing behind me. But he was. He was right there, and I wanted to hate him, because that would have made things so much easier. Miles easier. Eons easier. But I couldn't hate him, because years and years worth of crush all piled on me at once, and I could see the way his hair fell in soft waves to right above his ear, and the way his lips did that thing that made them match perfectly somehow with his nose, and then he adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, which of course drew my eyes to those arms. Those arms.

And then I realized I was staring. I averted my eyes to the floor. "Um. What do you want?"

"Hey, listen there's no need to be hostile. I just wanted to say hi."

What? What? Why?

"Hi?"

"There." He flashed his smile. Crap. There go my knees. "Was that such a big deal?"

I had no idea what was going on. Did he not remember the last time I saw him? How I made such a huge ass out of myself, and ranted about things that probably made me sound incredibly stupid?

"Listen. I know you're probably mad at me or whatever, but my friend's throwing a Halloween party and I thought you might want to go."

Why the hell are you inviting me to a Halloween party, Wake?? What...why? There must be some sort of guy code thing I was missing. Was he setting me up? Was this all some kind of joke? I couldn't make myself say anything. I just stared mutely. I felt like a moron.

"Okay, well, if you want to go, here's a flier. The theme is steampunk. You know what steampunk is?"

I nodded, continuing my practice in the way of the mute.

"Cool. Okay, well, maybe I'll see you there?"

I nodded, and forced myself to say, "Sure."

"Great. See you later!" He cracked another gorgeous smile, then he left.

I stared down at the flier. I recognized the name of the party's host as another senior, but I had no clue why on Earth Wake would want me to go. Was he still trying to get the name of the tattoo artist out of me? Surely, Colleen had given him Lisa's information by now, if for no other reason than to spite me. So what did he want?

Ice cream. Must consume ice cream. I hoisted my ungodly overweight backpack onto my shoulder and headed out the front doors to meet Miriam.

** ** **

"Maybe he honestly likes you."

"I don't want him to like me, Miri! I thought I'd finally gotten over him!"

"Well, what if he's always secretly had a huge crush on you and he's just been too shy to say anything?"

I rolled my eyes at her and licked my peppermint cone to keep it from dripping. "Why would Wake Ellington be too shy to ask me out?"

"Well, you know, he's got his reputation to protect and all. Maybe he'd be worried what his friends would think." Miriam stirred her bowl of peanut butter ice cream and nodded thoughtfully.

"Thanks, Miri, it's good to know I'd be detrimental to some dude's cred."

"You know what I mean."

I sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"I mean, I think you're a great choice for a girlfriend. Were I gay, I'd totally hit that."

"Okay, you can stop now."

I ate my ice cream thoughtfully, wishing all of life could be as simple as a double dip of peppermint.

"What if Wake asks you out?" Miriam asked. "What would you do about Alec?"

"Number one, I don't even know if I've got anything going on with Alec in the first place."

"You went on a date with him," she said, gesturing emphatically with her spoon.

"Right, but we didn't kiss. We didn't shake on it or anything. We just...hung out and ate pizza."

"You ate date pizza." More spoon emphasizing.

"And number two," I pressed on, ignoring her, "Wake is not going to ask me out. Janell? Remember?"

Miriam let out an exasperated noise. "God, I hate her."

"You don't even know her."

"I don't have to. Everyone knows those dance team girls are all the rich snobs."

I stared at her, clad in her goth gear and heavy makeup. "Miri, do you really think you're in a position to make stereotypes?"

"Please, Mads, it's my job to analyze society."

I grinned. "Whatever."

"Anyway, here's what I'm thinking. Wake realized what a jerk he was to you, dumped Janell, and now he's inviting you to this party so that he can confess his undying love for you and apologize for treating you so poorly before."

"Okay, either that, or the more logical assumption that it's some huge set up in order to make me look like a huge fool."

Miriam shook her head. "You should look at things with a more positive outlook."

"Says the chick who spends her weekends singing songs about the tragedy of life."

"Hey Mads, can I tell you a secret?" She leaned across the table conspiratorially. "I'm not really a goth. I just like the clothes."

I snorted.

** ** **

Ice cream with Miriam made things a little better. I mean, there's only so crappy you can feel when you're eating ice cream, right? But once the ice cream's gone, the problems return.

I got home to find another note from Alec on the door, along with a small package. Clearly, mom hadn't gotten to this one first. I felt a little guilty as I removed it from the door, knowing I'd just spent some time with my Wake fantasies when I had this perfectly good guy who liked me enough to write me poems and not act like a stuck up jerk to me.

I took the poem upstairs to my room, waving at mom along the way and giving a non committal grunt when asked how my day went. Once I'd gotten to the safety of my room, I dropped my backpack and flopped down on the bed, hoping the blue envelope I held might contain something that would make me feel better.

I slid my finger under the flap, ripping it open, and pulled out the paper inside. It read:

"Madeline, sweet, I just wanted to say
I had a great time with you the other day
I think you did too, though I dare not guess
But I hope if I asked you, you'd confirm with a "yes"

I look forward to spending more time with you
I have some ideas, and I'll share them, too
Halloween's coming up, and though I usually go out
I'd like to change things up, so I'm giving you a shout

How would you like to stay in with me?
We can wait by the door and hand out candy
It may not sound like much, but we'd have the best seat
To see everyone's costumes, to play meet & greet

~Alec

P.S.: These are so you can practice"

The poetry hadn't improved, but the message remained sweet. Well, that made my choice a lot easier. Hang out with Alec in a low pressure, handing out candy to adorable children sort of situation? Or subjecting myself to a huge party with a bunch of seniors and a potentially vindictive Wake? No contest. I felt grateful to Alec for giving me an out. Now all I had to do was tell Wake that I had other plans, and that wouldn't be a big deal, really. I'd just wait to see if he bothered talking to me again, which I sort of doubted.

Hooray! Problem solved. I turned my attention to the package, having a pretty good idea what was inside. When I ripped it open, though, I felt more than a little touched. Alec had made me my own set of poi, each with an ornate red "M" on them. No one had ever made me such an awesome present!

I got up from my bed and swung them around a few times, carefully, since I was within the confines of my room and I didn't want to break anything. I played with the poi until I'd worked up a good sweat, and felt exhilarated. I took a shower, using the time to think happy thoughts about how things could only get better from here. I glanced down at my tattoo, smiling at it. Maybe I could make peace with it after all.

I went to bed that night feeling refreshed and happy.

** ** **

This time, the note in my locker was shaped like a heart. I regarded it warily. Was Colleen trying to forgive and forget? Really? I picked up the note, and I stuffed it in my pocket, where normally I'd have dumped it in the nearest trash can. I'd have to check with Miriam later to see if she got a heart note, too, or if it was just me. It seemed very out of character for Colleen, and part of me wondered if the kindly shape of the note was just a trick to get me to open it.

The note stayed in my pocket all through first period, second period, and third period. I could feel it burning there every time I sat down, stood up, or bent over to pick up my dropped pen. By fourth period, my curiosity got the better of me. I sat down at my desk and pulled the note out. Then, slowly, I opened it and read it.

"Mads,

Look, I know you probably won't read this but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I acted like such a bitch when you were grounded. But I thought you needed to get out and have a good time. So anyway, you may never want to talk to me again, but I miss trying on shoes with you, and you can come over any time you want.

~Col"

Ugh. I didn't know if I was in the mood to forgive Colleen. I couldn't tell if her apology was sincere or not. I'd have to check with Miriam to see if Colleen had tried to make nice with both of us or not.

I showed the heart note to Miriam at lunch time. She read it and laughed. I tried not to think of the fact that Colleen was in this room with us right now, probably watching us to see if she could figure out what we were talking about.

"Yeah, I believe this the same way I believe the world is flat," Miriam said.

"You didn't get one, then?"

"That would be a negative."

"Why would she try to make up with me and not you?"

Miriam shrugged. "I have some ideas, but you probably wouldn't like them."

"Go ahead and tell me, because I've got nothing."

She sighed, taking a bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich and holding up a finger, indicating I should wait until she'd finished chewing. I waited. When she had cleared her mouth, she said, "I think she's trying to make up with you because she knows you're a little more susceptible to suggestion. She thinks you're weaker. If she can get you away from me, then she..." she held up the first two fingers on her hands and made little hand quotes, "'wins'."

"She wins?"

"Yeah. She wins. She's your better friend."

"Wait, what do you mean I'm weaker?" I felt a little hurt by that.

"I'm not saying you're weak, Mads. I'm saying, from Colleen's competitive point of view, if friendship is a game, than it's easier to get under your skin and win you back than it would be for me. She knows she can piss me off all she wants, but I'm not going to cave. So she's switching tactics, and is instead trying to make you pick sides."

I let that sink in as Miriam took another bite of her sandwich.

"But then again, I could be full of crap. This is just what I've come up with in the five minutes since you showed me that note."

"I don't know, you might not be. I sure as hell don't know what's going on anymore, what with Wake inviting me to a Halloween party, then Colleen trying to make up with me. Do you think maybe I should talk to her, see what she's really up to? I could ask her what her beef with you is."

Miriam shrugged. "Up to you, Mads. You're a big girl." She said it, but there was something under her voice that I couldn't quite pick out.

"Well, did I tell you Alec invited me to hang out with him on Halloween instead?"

Miriam perked back up. "Really? Are you going to go?"

"It sounds a hell of a lot more appealing than subjecting myself to a senior party," I said, rolling my eyes. "So more than likely. Oh, he also made me my own set of poi!"

Miriam clutched her hands to her chest. "Awwww!! That is so sweet! He made them for you?"

"Yep. Little red 'M's on them and everything."

"Like your tattoo!"

"Yes, that had not escaped my notice."

"Oh my gosh. Well, that definitely answers the Halloween question, doesn't it? What has Wake made you? Other than miserable."

"Nothing."

"Not a damn thing!" She waved her sandwich in the air, and I thought it might fall apart from the force.

I smiled. I tried to imagine Wake giving me any sort of gift, especially a handmade one, and it seemed so implausible I almost laughed to myself.

"You know, I kind of wish Alec went to school with us," I said.

"Yeah, but then you guys would beat out me and Bret for cutest couple, and I simply couldn't have that," Miriam said.

"Good point."

** ** **

I spent the rest of the day trying to decide if I should talk to Colleen or not. On the one hand, it felt weird being on the outs with her for so long. On the other hand, if Miriam was right and she was only trying to win me over as some sort of game, I didn't want to play into it. But I really didn't know how long I could continue ignoring her like this. The tension was killing me. I have no idea how Miriam could keep it up.

So I waited by Colleen's locker after school with a stomach full of killer attack butterflies. After a minute of waiting that felt more like an hour, I nearly chickened out to go home and try again later, but then I caught sight of her coming down the hall. My stomach clenched up, killing all of the attack butterflies and melding them into a solid lump of heavy steel. Colleen saw me, but her expression didn't change. She didn't smile, she didn't glare, she just stared blankly at me. The distance between us seemed to close at a snail's pace. It was agonizing.

Finally, she arrived at her locker and set to work fiddling with her combination lock. She didn't bother looking at me, she just said, "What's up?"

"Uh. I read your note."

Colleen grunted.

"Did you mean what you said in it?"

She shrugged. "What do you care?"

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be tedious, I could tell. "Look, I'm here talking to you, aren't I?"

Colleen loaded her books into her backpack, still avoiding my gaze. "So do you want to be friends again, is that why you're here?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I miss being friends. It feels so weird not to be. But-" I cut myself off. I had started to say something that it occurred to me may piss her off, and I wasn't in the mood to get into an argument with Colleen right now.

"But what, Mads?" She finally looked at me, and then the butterflies began flapping madly again.

"Nothing."

"No, say it, Mads. Say it. Don't pussy foot around just because you don't want to hurt my feelings, okay? Say what you really think. For once."

I took a deep breath. I held it as long as I could stand, then I said, "Okay, I just don't want to worry that you're mad at me for not doing what you want, or that you aren't going to try and make me do something to get me in trouble. You're...you're kind of scary when you do that."

I cringed, waiting for her to attack me back, but instead, she laughed. "I'm scary?"

I nodded, letting out a meek, "Yeah."

She continued laughing. "Okay, well, I guess that could have been worse." I waited for her to finish laughing. I guess I preferred this reaction to her biting my head off. "Look, Mads, I'm sorry I got you in trouble. That was stupid. I just worry about you, you know? Because you get so concerned about doing the right thing that sometimes you forget to take risks and live."

"Yeah, but I'm comfortable doing the right thing. It keeps me out of trouble." I took another deep breath. "And if you aren't okay with that, then maybe we shouldn't keep hanging out."

Colleen nodded, not dropping our eye contact. "That's very brave of you to say, Mads."

I startled for a second. "Uh, thanks." Colleen didn't say anything for a while, but went back to packing her backpack. I had to ask the question, it was burning inside of me. "Col, why didn't you apologize to Miri, too?"

Colleen let out a "Ha," and straightened up, dropping her head back and staring up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Miri is so freaking full of herself that it wouldn't do me any good to apologize."

"What do you mean?"

She looked at me again. "I mean that all she cares about is her band and her scene and fuck the rest of us if we're not interested in it, too."

"That's not true," I shook my head.

Colleen shrugged. "Maybe. But she hasn't given me any reason to believe otherwise. When she does, maybe I'll apologize."

There wasn't anything I could say to convince her she was mistaken. Colleen would believe what she wanted to believe.

"So are we cool?" She asked.

I thought about that. Were we cool? "I guess so," I said. "For now, anyway."

Colleen nodded. "Cool."

** ** **

I can taste you, 30K!

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 03:59:30 GMT

421.27 / 500 dollars for rent. 84% there!

(Donate to chewbobington at gmail dot com!)
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27389 / 42127 words. 65% done!

Anyway, I nodded as if I understood because I'm nice like that.

Silence, silence, silence, la la la.

"Have you ever ridden a burro?" Alec asked out of nowhere.

"What?"

"A burro. Have you ever ridden one?"

This struck me as quite possibly the most random question that he could have asked. My answer, which I voiced to him, was an honest "No."

"My dad took me once, when I was a kid. And, you know how everything's bigger when you're a kid?"

I nodded, because I did know.

"Well, I thought this thing was huge, really scary, you know?" He held his hands way out to either side, to indicate just how huge he found this burro from his past. "I was kind of freaked out, and I didn't want to ride it at all, and I started crying and everything. And my dad's like, 'Dude, it's a really gentle animal, it'll be lots of fun, I'll be right by you, blah, blah, blah,' you know, reassuring dad stuff. And I start to calm down and everything, and they set me on the burro, because at this point dad's already paid, and, like, I'm going to ride this burro and get his money's worth, right?"

I nodded.

"So I ride this burro. And, you know, it's like a small donkey or whatever. And I'm riding this burro, and I remember thinking, 'Wow, dad was right, this is fun! And then the ride was over, and I was like, 'Dad, can I do it again?' And that's when the burro totally bit my baseball cap off my head and ate it. Right in front of me."

He stopped talking. I waited to see if there was any more to the story. When he didn't say anything else, I said, "That really sucks."

"It occurs to me that it's probably a bad idea to tell a girl you like about this one time you cried when you were a little kid," he said.

I nodded. "Maybe."

"Do you think any less of me for it? Like, do you think I'm a wuss or anything?"

I considered this. "Well, I'm a little confused on the relevance of the story to...you know...anything, but other than that, I don't think any less of you."

Alec nodded. "Cool."

I tried to think if I had any embarrassing childhood stories about animals eating my possessions. "I'm pretty sure a goat tried to eat my sweater once when I was on a school field trip to the petting zoo."

"Yeah, goats are bastards that way. My grandma used to live next to these people who had a farm, and they had a whole buttload of goats, and I hated to go near them because they always tried to eat my clothes. And, you know, after that horrible burro experience, I wasn't too keen on getting more of my stuff eaten."

I smiled. "How much is a buttload?"

"You know. A buttload. Like, if you were to cram as many goats as possible into, say, the fattest man on Earth's ass. That many goats."

"Do you really think you could fit more than one goat into any ass? Even if it were the biggest in the world?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure there's a world record for 'Most Goats Shoved Up a Single Ass' or something."

"You should look it up."

"Maybe I will. First thing when I get home, I'll look that up."

"Awesome."

Somewhere during our discussion about farm animals, we'd made it to Mama's Pizza. Alec held the door for me and everything. I tried not to feel weird and self conscious about that, since normally, I wasn't too big on chivalry. It made me feel sort of awkward, truth be told.

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking," Alec said as we approached the checkout counter. "We order our pizza, then we take it back to my place and we eat it while we're watching a movie."

He was inviting me back to his house? My stomach swooshed a little. I'd never been invited to a guy's house before. Especially to eat pizza and watch a movie.

"You won't try to kiss me or anything, will you?" I asked.

"I make no promises," he said, smiling.

I cradled my chin in my hand, considering this offer. "What movie?"

** ** **

Alec lived in the basement. Which sounds like it might suck, but he'd really made the most of the space. It had two whole rooms, and even a bathroom. In one of the rooms, he'd set up a huge, squishy couch with a TV and VCR set up in the corner. The entire wall next to the TV was full, ceiling to floor, with DVDs.

"Pick one!" He held out his hand, gesturing grandly at the wall like one of those girls who shows off the prizes on gameshows.

"Oh my gosh. I would, but I don't want the pizza to get cold."

"We could always just watch Ghostbusters. That's my typical standby. And it is almost Halloween."

I stared at the titles. There were so many, I had a tough time focusing on them each individually. "How did you get all of these? We don't have anywhere near this many!"

"Well, it comes from years of perfecting the begging skill. Also, I have a part time job and I don't have anything else to spend my money on, hence..." More gesturing to the wall o' movies.

"Okay, I have an idea. I'm going to close my eyes, spin around, and whichever movie I end up pointing to, that's the one we have to watch, no matter what."

Alec looked skeptical. "No matter what? We can't do it three times and pick the best one?"

"Nope. It's all or nothing."

He sighed, appeared contemplative, then finally let out a whoosh of breath. "Okay. Go for it."

I clapped happily, then closed my eyes. I spun around three times, because three is a good number for things like this, then let my hand fly wildly around until I finally reached out and jammed my pointer finger on the spine of one DVD. I opened my eyes, pulled the case off of the shelf, and held it up triumphantly.

"So it looks like we're watching everyone's favorite Pixar movie, 'Cars'," Alec said. "An excellent choice for pizza dining."

"I've actually never seen 'Cars'," I admitted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's the only Pixar movie I've never seen."

"Do you really want to watch it?" He asked.

"That's not the point of the game, is it?" I grinned at him and set to work turning on his TV.

"That's cool, just make yourself at home. Do you mind if I have a piece of pizza, Ms. I'm In Charge Now?"

"Of course, just don't take the best piece."

"How do I know which one is the best?"

"Well, I guess you'll know if I get mad that it's gone."

Was I having a conversation with a real, live male? Like, one with quips and witty repertoire? What a strange experience! I glanced down at my tattoo to see if perhaps it was emitting some sort of magical glow, but it looked just as red and "M"-ish as ever. No jiggery pokery going on at my feet. Just me. Just me...owning it?

"Okay, I'm taking this one. Want to examine it before I take a bite of it?"

I crammed the DVD in the player and pressed play, then got up to join Alec on the couch. I kept the pizza box between us, just to be safe, then made a show of eyeing the pizza slice dramatically. "I don't know. That one's got quite a bit of nice, goopy cheese on it. What about this one?" I pointed to a nearly identical slice still in the box.

"I see your point. Here you go." Alec handed me the newly determined "best piece" and took the new slice from the box for himself. We settled in to watch the movie.

** ** **

"MIRIAM!" I yelled from half way down the hallway.

She swiveled around, layers of fabric swirling around her as she did so. "What? What happened?"

I barreled toward her at breakneck speed, shouting as I ran. "I went on a date! A real date! With a boy!"

"You are lying!" She shouted back, holding her arms open to catch me in a hug when I finally collided with her. "You're lying! That's incredible! Alec? You went to the poi thing, didn't you? It's Alec, isn't it?"

I nodded like a crazy person. A crazy person who nods a lot. Miriam squealed extra loud, and I would have had to cover my ears if I weren't squealing along with her.

"Holy crap, chill out," some kid I didn't know hissed at us as he passed. I ignored him.

"Did he kiss you? Did you kiss? Were there kissings?"

I shook my head. "No. No kissings."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, I didn't want to rush things or give him the wrong idea or some other lame excuse for me just being too afraid to kiss him."

Miriam squealed again. "Do you like him?"

"I think I like him, Miri."

"You like him!"

"I think so."

"You like him, you like him, you like him!" She grabbed my hands and danced around me, continuing her chant.

"You like who?" Asked Bret, joining us.

"Alec! She likes Alec!"

I punched her arm. "Miri, you can't just go telling everyone!"

"I can tell Bret, can't I?" She asked, eyes wide and innocent. "He's my boyfriend! And also Alec's friend. He has the right to know."

"Fine, tell Bret. But don't tell anyone else. I don't want...you know who to find out."

"Sheena? I understand," Miriam nodded.

"Not Sheena. Colleen."

"Ahhhhh. Gotcha." She tapped her pointer finger to the side of her nose.

"Don't want me to find out what?"

Oh. Well, shit.

As soon as she heard Colleen's voice, Miriam lost her smile and plastered on a blank face. She didn't bother responding to the question. Instead, she turned to Bret and gestured down the hallway, indicating that it was time to leave.

I tried to follow, but Colleen took hold of my arm. "Hey, I've been trying to talk to you forever, you know."

I grimaced and wrenched my hand away. "Yeah, leaving nasty notes in my locker is a really good way to get me to talk to you."

"They weren't all nasty." She didn't try to grab me again. "Have you even read them?"

I felt heat rising in my face. I hated this. I hated feeling like I had to keep my non-existent cool. I didn't think I could do it. She could get to me just by standing there, looking at me.

"Did you?" She asked again. I stayed silent. How long would she do this to me? Why couldn't she just leave me alone? I wanted her to just leave me alone.

Finally, she dropped her gaze and sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Keep on hating me. I'll see you around." And she left.

** ** **

Man, of course Colleen had to pull her attempt to talk to me right when I was having such a good day. Way to ruin things, Colleen. Way to know just how to bring me down a few notches.

The sucky thing was, even if I did Like like Alec, he didn't go to our school, so I couldn't watch for him in the halls and smile at him, sharing our pizza and movie secret in just one glance. I watched Miriam and Bret do that all the time, catching each others' eyes and just Knowing Something. It made the whole day almost seem less real somehow. While the Colleen thing was very, very real, in sharp contrast to my slowly fading happiness.

And anyway, I didn't really know if I Like liked Alec or not. Sure, we'd had a blast Saturday, but this was all very new to me. And if I liked him, maybe I'd done something that made him realize he didn't really like me. I had no idea how to flirt. The only instruction I'd ever had came from Colleen, and thinking of her even to dredge up some tips on boys only made my heart pinch.

I grabbed Miriam in between classes. "I think I need ice cream after school," I said.

"Can I bring Bret?"

"Nope, I need some wallowing girl time."

Miriam frowned and patted my hair. "Why are we wallowing? You were so happy this morning!" I gave her a Look. "Ah. Colleeen," she concluded correctly.

"Yeah."

"Ice cream it is. I'll meet you by the buses."

"Thanks." She gave me a quick hug before bounding off to her next class.

** ** **

I think I would like to find the guy who decided to make every textbook weigh forty thousand pounds, and force him to carry around an overstuffed backpack for a week. As I loaded up my books to take home for homework, all I could think about was the future scoliosis it would ultimately cause. Years of carrying around way too much knowledge on Math, History and the Sciences would permanently cripple me. Knowledge may be power, but it's also really, really heavy.

"You can't really have that much homework, Tattoo Girl," his voice broke through my musings. Why was he talking to me? Why today? Why couldn't I just make it to my ice cream and enjoy a good wallow with Miriam?

I can't believe I didn't think of this before.

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 02:41:18 GMT

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Ha! I conquered you, 25K! Onward to 30K...

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 01:48:31 GMT

416.27 / 500 dollars for rent. 83% there!

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(A description of what I'm doing is here.)

25130 / 41627 words. 60% done!

Miriam decided that my grounding was actually a heroic form of punishment for a brave deed well done. I'm not sure how she came to that conclusion really, but I'd take it.

Mom didn't let me lounge around miserably in my room during my grounding, either. As boring as that had sounded at the beginning, I would have gladly spent four hours locked up in my room doing nothing as opposed to the myriad of tasks she gave me to do instead. In the time during my incarceration, I got to mow the front lawn, do the dishes every night, fix the window that wouldn't open in the sitting room, help my mom paint the dining room, cook dinner at least twice, and wash, fold, and put away laundry for all three of us. As a kid who really hadn't had much to do in the way of chores other than keep her room clean her whole life, this stack of duties hit me pretty hard.

Luckily, I made it through, and came out on the other side a stronger, and more well rounded person. Well rounded in that I'd decided to get a maid if I ever had to live by myself. Or just have kids to do all that work for me. Or my place would just dissolve into unkempt shambles.

"You're free," Mom declared when my week was up. "You can go to friends houses, invite friends over, whatever. Just don't sneak out. Or get any more tattoos. At least until after you move out."

"Done," I said, and we shook on it.

** ** **

Our town has two parks in it that are large enough to be considered "parks" by the general public. One of them is more of a children's playground sort of park, with tons of structures for climbing and lots of brightly colored decorations. The other one is more spread out, more landscaping and open space, one of those "relax and take in the beauty of nature" sort of places. This is the park where I was to meet Alec and Bret and a bunch of other people to spin poi. Koi. Fish. Balls. Whatever we were spinning.

I got there early, and no one else had shown up yet, so I sat on one of the many benches and admired the impressive trees growing around the area. The day had been slow so far. I got up, took a shower, puttered around for a bit, then made my way to the park to give Alec another chance. I'll be honest with you, I was mostly doing this for Bret. I liked Bret well enough, and I didn't want him thinking I was just dissing his friend for no good reason. Maybe a more laid back setting would be better for getting to know him, rather than the awkward atmosphere created by parties and clubs.

I took off my shoes and squished my toes into the soft, chilly grass. It felt nice. I decided to walk around while I waited on everyone to show up.

The park has been here the entire time I've lived here, which is my entire life. But it's always been the sort of place I think about going without actually ever going. Sometimes, though, you just need a good walk to clear your head.

I thought about Colleen, who's note tirade had slowed a bit last week, but not died out completely. She'd taken more to shooting me nasty glares in the hallway instead. Or sending her male minions to say rude things to me and Miriam as they walked past us on our way to classes. In short, she continued to be immature about things.

But out here in the park, it didn't seem to matter. The wind blew through my hair, and I felt like if I could be here, and be still, if I could soak up enough of this fresh air, then things would be okay. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into that calm.

"You look like you're deep in thought."

I snapped my eyes open.

"Oh, hey, Alec." I tried not to think about how goofy I probably looked, standing in the middle of the park with my eyes closed.

"I'm glad you came. I heard about how you got grounded and stuff."

"Oh, yeah. That." I noticed that his hair did not hang in front of his eyes today, and I felt grateful for that. It saved me a whole lot of wasted agony, wishing I could push it back. "You changed your hair," I said, in an attempt to start a conversation. (And this time, I'm sticking to it.)

"Just trying something different," he said. "I got a trim, too. It's a little shorter."

I nodded. "Looks nice."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

Silence. Hooray for awkward silence! I swung my arms back and forth a bit in an attempt to amuse myself.

"So, do you want me to show you how to do this?" Alec asked, dropping a backpack off of his shoulders and producing a pair of tennis balls attached to a length of rope.

"Those are the poi?" I asked, pointing to them.

He nodded. They didn't look like fish at all.

"Sure, show me."

Alec nodded again, then began to swing the balls around. I stared at him, amazed. The balls seemed to be flying of their own accord, creating patterns around him and sometimes even hovering in space. He looked to be doing very little, while the balls floated and swung freely. It looked, surprisingly, quite beautiful. Much more beautiful than the fish I had imagined.

When he'd finished, he handed the poi to me. They felt heavy and awkward in my hands. "Um, I don't think I can do what you just did."

Alec grinned. "That's okay. It takes a lot of practice. Here." He took my hand and adjusted the rope so it flowed through my fingers. "Grip it like this, and then move your hand like this to start it swinging."

I did as he said. The ball swung, but nowhere near as gracefully as his had done.

"That's right, you got it, now just keep practicing that, and when you feel ready, try it with both hands at the same time." He smiled encouragingly, and produced a second set of poi from his bag. Alec continued to play while I practiced. It didn't take me long to fall into a serene sort of rhythm. Well, at first, I kept smacking myself in the face and worrying that I was making a fool of myself. But once I got a better hang of it, things started to flow nicely. The rest of the poi spinning group trickled in slowly. I was kind of surprised by how many there were.

Bret showed up eventually, as well. "Maddy, you came!" He pulled out a set of poi that actually lit up and glowed, and began swinging them as if they were extra appendages. "I'm really glad to see you here!"

Now that there was a huge crowd of amazing poi spinners, I began to feel self conscious about my lack of knowledge or skill. I sidled up to Alec and tried to catch his attention, but instead, I ended up bumping into him and throwing off his groove.

"Oops! Sorry!"

He laughed. "Don't worry about it. What's up?"

"Uh, can you teach me something else? I feel like a huge loser only being able to swing these one way."

"Sure! Here, watch this." He got his poi spinning, then split them so that when one ball was up, the other was down. "You can try that, then also try swinging them backward." He left me to practice these new techniques.

I played with them for a while, but eventually, I set them down and watched everyone else. I'd never seen anything quite like this. Not everyone played with poi, either. One girl had a small sphere that gracefully traveled from one hand to the other, hypnotically swirling as if it had a life of its own. Another guy had brought some balls to juggle.

This group was so different from the friends I'd grown used to hanging out with. I watched them all, every single person clearly in possession of their own "It". Nobody here seemed concerned if anyone else was watching them. They were all so intent on their own tasks. It fascinated me. How many times had I been hanging around La Musica Noche and worried that everyone's eyes were trained steadily on me? More than I could count. Probably every time. I always felt convinced that everyone was looking at me, thinking, "Look at that girl. She totally doesn't belong here. You can tell because she isn't dressed properly. She doesn't look comfortable. She's just emanating 'I don't fit in' vibes."

And yet, as I sat and watched, I didn't feel a single eye on me. I was free to sit and observe. Eventually, though, Alec noticed I'd stopped spinning and came to sit next to me.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," I said, smiling.

"So what do you think?"

"I think I've never seen anything like this. I didn't even know crap like this existed."

"Crap like this?" He smirked at me.

"I don't mean 'crap' like 'oh, this is crap'. Stuff. Stuff like this. Everyone's so good."

"Well, we do this every weekend. We all started out just like you, you know."

I shook my head. "No, I'm pretty sure this is one of those things you have to be born good at."

A laugh from Alec. "Ah, that's where you're wrong. Anyone can learn this."

"I think I'm too spazzy for it. I was born with spazzio rising."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Alec took a deep breath and let it out, his face relaxed. "Well, if you're bored, I could always take you to dinner or something."

I smirked at him. "Are you asking me on a date, Alec?"

A return smirk. "Maybe."

I don't think anyone had ever asked me out on a date before. It felt...different. New. Like a rush. A good kind of rush, though.

"Yeah, okay. But I'd like to watch some more before we go, if that's okay."

He nodded. "Yeah. That's okay." He grinned at me once more, then stood back up, rejoining the crowd that continued to happily flip, spin and toss their poi around. I felt more peaceful than I had in weeks.

** ** **

"So, I don't know about you, but I like sushi," Alec suggested as he packed up his poi.

"Hmm, I'm not too big on seafood." In fact, I hated seafood. A lot.

"Mama's Pizza it is, then!"

Ah, pizza. The universal compromise. Was that redundant?

Alec waved to everyone, and then we left the park, falling into step together.

"So, how long have you been spinning poi?" I asked. Look at me! Initiating conversation! I deserve a merit badge.

"A little more than a year. It's addictive, you know?"

"Kind of like cocaine?"

"Yeah, except more legal."

I snorted my classy lady snort.

"Do you have any hobbies?" Alec asked me.

I thought about that. I wanted to tell him about my thousands of awesome hobbies, the least of which included helping out in homeless shelters, volunteering at nursing homes, all while creating magnificent works of fine art. But when I tried to think of one interesting thing to say, my mind ran blank. It's not like you can list "getting ill advised tattoos" as a hobby.

"Uh, I like to read," I said, cursing myself for how lame I sounded. Who doesn't like to read? Reading wasn't nearly as interesting as spinning poi. And then I wondered why I cared so much about making myself sound interesting to Alec. Was I starting to like him? I mean, he had nice eyes, now that his hair wasn't flopping around in them. They were an intense green, and when he smiled, they crinkled up in this adorable way. So, I guess he was cute.

"Reading's good," he said.

I nodded. "Do you read?" Ah, there we go, first stupid question of the conversation.

"Yeah, every so often. I don't have a lot of time to read, you know?"

I never really understood this excuse for not reading. I always manage to find time to read, but I guess everyone else isn't as nerdy as me.

Hoopcrastination

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 00:58:52 GMT

The slog to 30K has hit and it's not even NaNoWriMo. How about a small Hoop Camp update?

Yeah. That's me chilling with SaFire. It's okay to be jealous. (Also pictured, L to R, the incredible Unity, her boyfriend Austin, my new favorite hooping buddy snowzilla, SaFire, and ME)

(Technically, this was my third burn, but it was an AWESOME one!)

Okay, enough Hoopcrastination. Back to writing!

Some words before I take off on Saturday Adventures

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 20:29:07 GMT

413.27 / 500 dollars for rent. 83% there!

(Donate to chewbobington at gmail dot com!)
(A description of what I'm doing is here.)

23051 / 41327 words. 56% done!

There was a note on my desk when I got to Geometry that day. From Colleen, of course. She wasn't the sort of person to silently hold grudges. She was the sort to fight. To let you know, constantly, how pissed she was with you. I knew this because I had seen her get in these sorts of fights with other people before. But I'd never, ever dreamed that I would be the one on the receiving end of her sharp barbs.

The note had been folded into an origami knife. Very classy. I didn't open it. If she wanted to insult me, she could do it to my face, and I was sure she would, too. I threw the note into the trash can, still folded, wondering if Miriam had gotten a similar treatment.

Even though I hadn't read it, I may as well have, because I felt distracted and agitated the entire rest of school, like Colleen were taking real knives and constantly flinging them at my head, and I had to duck every one. Each one had a note attached to it. "Fuck you," they said, or some variation thereof. I couldn't handle this. I hadn't even gotten a handle on my confidence, yet. How could I stand up to someone with as much inherent confidence and self assurance as Colleen? Why did I have to? We were supposed to be friends. We did the stupid initial thing in elementary school and everything. Doesn't that mean anything anymore? Doesn't that have relevance?

Miriam wanted to hang out after school, and I wished like crazy I weren't grounded so I could go. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out in my room all night and dwell on all this crap we had going on between us. I couldn't even fantasize about Wake anymore, since I'd mucked that up so perfectly.

Maybe I should just go home and go to bed.

** ** **

"We're going on a trip," Mom said once I walked in the door.

"What?" I hadn't even put my stuff down yet.

"I figure since I've got you to myself this evening, you can come with me on a little errand."

"Is dad coming, too?"

"He's working late. We'll be home in time for dinner."

I tried to process the idea of going somewhere. I certainly didn't want to be holed up in my room, but I wasn't sure if a mystery trip with my mom would be that much better. Was she taking me somewhere to teach me a lesson? To sell me into slave labor? Probably not, but I had no idea at this point. I'd never been grounded before. Maybe a classic part of the grounding process is to be sold into slave labor for a day, just so you learn your lesson extra hard.

"You can change if you want, otherwise, let's get on the road!" Mom looked at me expectantly, as if I hadn't just walked in the door after suffering seven hours of mental teenage abuse. I waited a few moments for her to say, "Ha ha, just kidding!" But she didn't. So I said, "I'll be right back," and went up stairs to change clothes.

It's not like what I was wearing was particularly dirty or uncomfortable. But the time it would take me to pick out a new shirt and throw on a fresh pair of jeans would allow me to clear my head a little. Maybe focus on something other than the notes Colleen had stuck on my desk and in my locker for the remainder of the day.

I picked a t-shirt I never wore to school for fear of being found too dorky, and my favorite pair of jeans that I'd already worn three times that week. Mom wouldn't care if I was a little stinky.

I went back downstairs, taking the steps slowly, until finally arriving at the bottom. "Okay, I'm ready," I said.

"Great. Let's go!" And she marched out the door, leaving me to trail behind her.

** ** **

"Is everything okay with you, Mads?" Mom asked as we drove.

"Yeah." I sat with my legs folded up, arms clutching them to my chest, and staring out the window instead of at her. "Things are great."

"I'm only asking, because I've never known you to be the sort of girl to get a tattoo, then sneak out of the house."

I nodded. I had a feeling she'd want to talk to me about this stuff.

"Or to fight with your friends."

I jerked my head around. "How did you know about that?"

Mom pulled something out of her pocket, and I recognized it as one of Colleen's knife notes. Except this one had been opened. "I found this on the door," she said. Colleen must have managed to get to my house before I did. Or she cut class just so she could continue her tirade. I wouldn't put it past her. "Colleen had some pretty nasty things to say in here. What did you do to her?"

I dropped my head back on the seat and stared up at the car ceiling, the gloomy October day whizzing past my peripheral vision. "I didn't do anything to her. She's the one with the problem."

"How do you mean?"

"Look, mom, I know you want to help and be supportive or whatever, but I'm just not in the mood to dwell on the shit that's going on in my life right now."

"Mind watching your language there, Mads?"

"Sorry. The crap going on in my life."

"Better."

We drove in silence for a while. I kept my gaze fixed on the ceiling, and after a while, closed my eyes. Mom had the windows cracked. I focused on the feeling of the crisp air blowing my hair around my face. I tried to imagine it lifting me to a new place, a place where I was the Madeline of my fantasies and I didn't have to deal with people like Wake or Colleen.

Then mom said, "Did you know I've got a tattoo myself?" Which kind of pulled me out of my reverie.

I pulled my head upright again. "What?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"How the hell - heck - did I not know about that?"

She shrugged. "It's in kind of a...ah...private area."

"Mom! No way! You have a tattoo on your ass?" I couldn't believe it!

"Madeline, I have a tattoo on my rear end."

"Right. Sorry. Of what? Why? When did you get it?"

"Be patient. That's where I'm taking you."

That didn't really make any sense to me. How could she be taking me to when she got her tattoo? Or why she got it? Or what it was of? Unless it was of a building or something. This new information blew my mind. My mother never struck me as the type of person to have a tattoo. Not that she wasn't cool or anything like that. She was pretty tolerant of a lot of things, and generally trusted me. I had lots of friends with mothers who kept them on a really tight leash, not letting them out of the house past a certain hour, or disallowing them from dating boys until they're twenty, things like that. Still. Finding out your mom has a butt tat isn't the sort of thing you expect to hear when you come home from school miserable about life.

Another half an hour passed. I didn't ask mom any more questions, and she didn't ask me, either. Finally, when the sun had begun to set and the colors in the sky were changing from blue to orange to pink, we came to a park. It was devoid entirely of human life, save for us. A small square of rock covered ground held a small swing set, a slide, and a merry go round. Off to the side, on the grassy area, a large tree grew up, its branches shadowing the playground.

Mom unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car. I followed her. She walked up to the tree, then began circling it, looking it up, down and around. Finally, she found what she was looking for and pointed. "There. Mads, take a look at this."

I looked. It almost seemed comical, because it was a classic symbol I'd seen in so many places in movies, in books, everywhere. Yet here it was, right in front of me: My mom's initials carved into the tree, along with another set of initials I didn't recognize, surrounded by a heart.

"You carved your initials into a tree?"

"That's what my tattoo is of."

I stared at her. "You tattooed your initials on your ass? Sorry, rear end?"

She shrugged. "I was young and in love. We thought if we got these tattoos, it would keep us together forever. Like the tattoo would have magical powers or something ridiculous like that." She laughed to herself, caressing the carving with her fingers. "Obviously it didn't, as I married your father, and thank heavens for that, because I wouldn't have had you."

"Yeah, but...why did you drive me all the way out here to see this? Why couldn't you have just told me?"

"Well, number one, I didn't particularly want to pull down my pants to show you my tattoo. But the bigger reason is this. A tattoo doesn't change you, Mads. It's just a design. Just a picture. You're the one that has to do the changing. I don't know why you felt like you needed a tattoo, but if you got it hoping it would turn you into a different person, or keep you tight with your friends or something, it won't. It's only ink."

I nodded. How is it moms always know exactly what to say to make your heart do that weird twinge thing?

"Did Colleen and Miriam get one, too? Is that what this note is about?"

I shook my head. "I'm the only one that got one."

Mom nodded. "Well, sweetie, you know I love you. It sounds like you're dealing with enough...crap...from the rest of your life. I'm lifting your grounding to just the end of the week."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I want you to think about what I said. Anything you want to change about yourself, it's got to come from you. And you've got it all right in here." She poked me in the chest. "You're a good kid." She wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug.

"Thanks, mom." This time, I didn't try to choke back any tears. They squeezed themselves out on their own.

"Okay, enough of this," Mom said, pulling us apart but keeping her hands on my shoulders. "Want to see who can swing the highest?"

I grinned. "Yeah."

We let the swings carry us higher and higher until it was too dark to see anymore. Then we got in the car and drove home.

** ** **

Colleen proceeded to make my life miserable every day at school. If she was getting to Miriam too, Miriam didn't let it show. I continued to ignore the notes she left. They appeared on my desk before every class, and in my lockers between periods. Colleen folded them like knives, guns, tombstones, one time she even folded one into a scorpion. I almost felt honored that she was angry enough at me to spend so much time folding these notes. But then I remembered that she was probably just bored in class, and would have been folding paper anyway, and I went right back to feeling like crap.

"Miriam, I can't take it anymore," I confided to her before last period on Wednesday. My mental state had been so weakened by the notes that I couldn't concentrate on any of my classes, and I'm pretty sure I'd missed the homework in a few of them.

"It's ridiculous. She's acting like a child," Miriam agreed.

"Have you been reading them?"

"I read one," she said, "and then I didn't bother with the rest."

I was tempted to ask her what it said, but that would defeat the purpose of throwing them out.

"Was it hateful?" I asked instead.

"Um, yeah."

Bret joined us at her locker. "Hey girls, how go the Colleen Chronicles?"

"Shitty," I lamented, letting the lockers support my weight and wishing I didn't have to get back up to walk home.

"You should get back at her," Bret suggested.

Miriam shook her head, and I followed suit.

"Why not? She's being such a bitch. I can do it. I can get some of the guys together and we can make her life a living hell."

"Bret," Miriam placed a hand on his chest, "you don't know Colleen like we do. That might work with guys, but girls are vicious. Or at least, Colleen is. It won't slow her down at all."

Bret sighed. "Fine. It's just I really want to punch her in the tit, you know? Treating you like such crap."

"I don't care if you punch her in the tit," I spoke up.

"Done. One tit punching, on behalf of the lovely Madeline." He took my hand and kneeled down, bowing. I snickered.

"Hey," he said, dropping my hand and standing back up, "Alec said he invited you to come spin poi with us, but you didn't show. I know he can be kind of quiet, but he's a really good guy, and I think you'd really like him, and I'm saying this because he's my buddy and he could really use a break, you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I planned on going but then I got grounded."

"What for?"

I pointed to my ankle and the tattoo I'd begun to loathe a little.

"Ah. Your rebellion." Bret wiggled his fingers dramatically as he said "rebellion".

"Yes, but the crazy thing is, I found out that my mom has a tattoo on her ass!"

Miriam slammed her locker shut. "What? No way!"

"Yes way."

"Your mom? Your mom?"

"Dude, you say that like my mom's some kind of fuddy duddy or something."

"Okay, you have to tell me all about this."

So I proceeded to shove Colleen from my mind as I told Miriam and Bret about the trip to the park and my mom's tattoo.

** ** **

Taking a break between writing because I had a thought.

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 19:48:54 GMT

I'm thinking of donating whatever sales I get from the Xlormp books during the month of November and donating it to NaNoWriMo.

OH MY GOODNESS THE SLEEPS.

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 18:54:45 GMT

OKAY! I am awake. Apparently driving for three days, hooping for three days, driving for another three days and then proceeding to write for thirteen straight hours makes you TIRED. Who knew? Let's keep rolling. I do have Stuff To Do today, so I don't think I'll make another 20K (I'm going for 5K, actually), but I'll be writing again all day tomorrow. I've ALMOST TOTALLY GOT MY RENT COVERED. You guys are the most awesome human beings alive!

I've gotten a couple defriendings, I'm really sorry for spamming fls but I promise my journal isn't usually like this. Just check my calendar. Ha.

The rest of you, thank you so much for being so helpful and supportive whether you're reading the end result story or not!

I have used several names in the story, but I don't know that I'm going to be able to use everyone's. I've got a lot of names to pick from. Oh, and to whoever requested a poem, it is in the last update! I am not a poet. I'll tell you that right now. And so by proxy, neither are my characters, though they often try. I do find bad poetry kind of hilarious.

ENOUGH PROCRASTINATING. MORE WRITING.

ETA: OH HAI LET'S ROCK THIS SMEYERS STYLE!! Ahem: Here is my playlist for this book. It really means something. (no it doesn't)