Just A Little While Longer…

So I’m almost done with my background, though I screwed up the dragon color (yay me!) so until then… Here’s the first nine paragraphs of my first story that does not feature a teenager as the main protagonist! Surprisingly, it’s also the first one that’s gone over 15 pages. Feel free to tell me that this sucks, I will love you forever.

Months, years, or maybe hours, and days. Time has forgotten me, decided I’m not worthy of it. I don’t know why it’s me, or what I did to be forgotten. But maybe it isn’t so much a curse or a bad thing so much as a blessing. No one cares, no one bothers me with stupid engagements, I am alone. I breathe easier knowing I’m safe from time and life.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about nothing. The room is dark, as always, the shutters closed, keeping me locked away. Yet there’s a small light emanating from somewhere within the room. I’ve never figured out quite exactly where the source is, but it’s calming. I like how it seems to make the white linens and comforter of my bed glow. But I lay there, in nothing but a pair of black, silk undergarments, staring at the ceiling. I snort, thinking about where black, silk undergarments have gotten me before: nowhere.

Oh, I had worn similar garments before, along with the sexy little dresses or the tight jeans and loose, slightly transparent tops, to get attention. Men may have glanced over at me, but for whatever reason, I wasn’t good enough for them. There were times when I ran to the bathroom to see if I had worn the wrong thing or somehow managing to turn into a hag. Nothing at all happened to me. I just wasn’t attention catching like other girls.

As if it matters. I don’t need a man to rely on at all. I just like the feel of silk against my skin, which is why most of my undergarments are silk. Gently closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, thinking and considering. Getting nowhere, I sit up. The dark room isn’t calming, it isn’t wonderful to sit in, it causes stress.  I may have sworn off humanity and life as I know it, but I still get stressed. There are, of course, some ways I can relieve tension, but I don’t tend to always go with some relievers. I stand and leave my room, sighing. Keeping in theme with the bedroom, every room is painted white but every room is dark, closing off the world. I’ve been living like this for several years now, preferring the darkness to the sun. I wonder on a daily basis how the world has changed.

Slowly walking down the hall, I listen to the silence of this huge house. It’s nice, outside of the hustle and bustle of everyday life, but I wish there was something else. There are no televisions, there are no radios, or cd players, or anything of the like. I live a soundless, soulful life. Instead of watching the trash on television, I meditate or read. The silence is almost complete, except for the sound of footsteps. I pause. There! There’s someone or something downstairs. I frown; I keep the door locked, there’s no way there could be someone downstairs. I quickly skitter to the stairwell and pause, listening. There it is again! The footsteps downstairs, pacing almost. I focus on the noises, and oh so slowly pad down the stair case, pausing every once in a while.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I notice it’s immediately quiet. I frown slightly, peering around. My bra strap falls down and I absent-mindedly adjust it, trying to figure out where the thing is. Staying in the shadows, I try to be stealthy and look into each room I pass. There’s no one, so far, down this hallway. I relax, believing that my stress had simply caused an illusion, and walk past the last room on the left. I rarely go into that room; it’s one I avoid, simply because of the color. It’s a light cornflower blue. It’s also the only room where the windows aren’t boarded up, allowing in sunlight. I have no idea why I didn’t board it up or paint it, but I didn’t. So I go past this room, expecting it to be closed. I’m in front the door, standing in a pool of sunlight, when I realize not only is this room open, but there’s someone in it. Every atom of my skin is turning red and I spin around, staring at a very dapper looking young man. It’s like looking at a man from the 1950s: slicked back hair, crisp, black suit, and fedora. He gazes at me intently, and I feel like I know him from somewhere, but I can’t place the familiarity.

When I attempt to take a step back, I find I can’t and he speaks. “You can’t outrun time, young lady,” he removes his hat and examines it. I stop trying to move and watch him intently. The man stands and walks to the window. “You also can’t ignore life. It is fundamental and you are part of it.”

I bite my lip, considering what to say. Finally, I just go with my instinct. “Who are you, and what do you want,” I croak. Coughing, I attempt to restore my voice. I haven’t spoken a lot since I boarded myself up and when I have, it’s a light mutter as I talk to myself.  He turns back to me and looks at my questioningly. “And yes, I can, in fact ignore life. It’s been going on without me for some time.”

The man laughs. It’s a nice sound and I realize what this house has been missing: laughter. Or maybe he’s right; it’s been missing another life. I’ve been missing another life. Just because I don’t want to interact with people all of the god damn time doesn’t mean I should have locked myself away. What was the point of isolating myself if I missed out on what was going on?  Hell, why did I even do it in the first place? I frown, thinking about what happened to make me think doing this was okay. I’m startled from my reverie when he says, “You know who I am. You seem to like to blame me for your issues, though I assure you, Time doesn’t interfere as much as you think I do.” My face screws up, thinking about this. “As for what I want, it isn’t anything, really.”

Yeah, there’s another 26 1/2 pages of this crap. I’m also trusting the internet to not be jerkwads and run off with my writing. Which means I place too much trust in the internet.

I love you all!

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Potentially Exciting News (That May Actually Only Excite Me)

So instead of the two 500+ word plus drafts that I wanted to post (one about a story I started writing and am looking for the appro— I mean, just to show off my writing skills, and the other about the recent deer-death-by-mountain-lions-in-my-neighborhood situation) I am instead going to share my excitement! “But,” you may say, “What is there to be excited about?” Well hush and I’ll try to share it with you!

See, I had this quite awesome idea, because I’m awesome, of course. “A horse is a horse, of course, of course.” Don’t ask. I don’t know where that came from. Ignore it. But because I have been bestowed with an overabundance of creative energy that I can’t seem to hone into what I exactly what I want, I have had one of the more million best ideas ever I have. Okay, okay, I’ll shut up about my being awesome, because it’s not true. I just like to build myself up.

Anyway, I have decided that instead of my favored stars and trees, there shall be a change. I’ve got an affinity for drawing illuminated letters, so I am creating my own… sigil, of sorts, for Spirals And Straight Lines. This is just a friendly “HEY, SO YOU DON’T GO ‘OMG WHAT HAPPENED’, I’M TELLING YOU NOW” heads up. Coming in the next few weeks (days, hopefully, but I’m still trying to decide if I want to do it on colored paper or not, which is just one of the few ideas I’ve had), a new background will be arriving. Hand-drawn, crappily shaded, odd colors and the works that will hopefully be not as bad on the eyes as my current background. I like it, I do, but I’d like something vibrant and with dragons. Dragons! I need more practice with those, since my drawing style always changes, but if there’s one thing I enjoy, it’s a good mythical creature. One day, I’ll have an entire illuminated letter alphabet based off of different mythical creatures. Just K and T won’t have beasties that begin with the letters K and T.

But there you have it. I have shared my excitement over impressing myself with an idea with you to groan over: “Ugh, this woman… It’s all about her, isn’t it.” Yes. Yes it is. Don’t make me flip my hair. I will if forced to, I promise.

An American Coming of Age Tradition: Right or Privilege?

(Wonderful readers, oh dear, dear, lovely and beautiful readers, I had meant to post this Saturday, but some things came up and I haven’t had access to my laptop since about Friday. I may or may not post a brilliant detailing of my adventures with a camera and a best friend and just how much money I can blow through simply because I cannot enter one of the following without buying something I don’t really need: Any book store on this frickin’ planet and Old Navy (and most recently, American Eagle. Take that fat! Watch me eat my way to skinnier sizes!). Also, the sunburn. I hate being so fair-skinned. Period.)

Growing up, I remember both my parents, especially my mother, talking about how they had begun driving at a fairly young age. My mother, because she was my grandpa’s little helper (my uncle was too busy being my grandma’s favorite and later on, becoming a drug addict. He’s a fairly nice guy, really! He’s just had drug issues for the past 40 or so years), had begun driving around age eight, simply because of hay and horses. When she got older, she would drive on the road — without her parents knowing. This really doesn’t surprise me. My mom is… One of those people who can get away with doing crap like that. I can totally tell another story about something I said when I was around the age of ten (evidently, I seriously don’t recall this) that involved my mother and my paternal grandmother and how I expected my mom doing something rather… Undignified in that case. But that’s for another time, should anyone actually be interested. Which I doubt.

Back to my main point: When I was younger, I was excited about driving and couldn’t wait to do it. I was even allowed a few times to drive the truck around my maternal grandfather’s field helping pick up hay. That is, until I was finally of age to get my permit. For about a year, the mantra my parents parroted at me was “Driving is a privilege, not a right!”. Something clicked in my teenaged brain and I immediately decided that hey, if that’s the game they wanted to play, I would play it. So I threw any driving manual they handed me as far away from me as I could, ignored that they continuously told me to read it, and by the time I hit the sweet age of fifteen, I didn’t go get my permit. I was determined to undermine my parents’ expectations of me being on the road and learning how to drive.

Because my lack of want and ambition, the mantra became that I needed to do this, that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. But how I fought! If I could punch, I could have been a boxer with all the moxie I put into denying my parents their only daughter driving herself to the movies or the mall (like that ever really happened).

Well, now I was just confused. I could have sworn that driving was a privilege, and doesn’t privilege mean that I don’t technically have to do it if I don’t want to? Time to visit the dictionary! Privilege is: basically a special right or benefit someone has been granted. Hmm, so I suppose I’m sort of right, bordering on wrong.  But you get my drift (I hope).

One tact they tried on me was “Do you really want your mother to drive you around? Doesn’t that embarrass you?” To be completely honest, the only time my parents embarrass me is when they feel like they have to actually try to be embarrassing. Since the two main people who I went out with often enough to not really care, I didn’t mind the rather random stories my mom told about me. Some of them are funny. But that’s not just it. After a while, people who had to hang out around my mom for a reasonable length of time would later say, “Hey, your mom is awesome. I wish mine was as cool as yours.” So, no, I really didn’t mind not having my permit, and later my license, because it seemed that whenever my friends were around, the hilarious stories about both my childhood and my mother’s life before meeting my father. (The really juicy stuff I hadn’t found out till I asked why my parents got married in October 1992 when I was born in March 1993. That’s part of another story, really.)

Well, their constant nagging, as well as being tired of having my friends tell me to get my license (with more than a few f-bombs on one’s part) made me decide that this so-called privilege might be a good idea to invest in. Right before graduation, I finally got my permit. I had highlighted every single frickin’ sentence in that manual, trying to make sure I memorized the right stuff to pass. Which I did. So I finally made the first step into adulthood. Not that anything truly interesting happened.

Oh, hold on. December 2011. Floater. One of my best friends absolutely had to come out for a concert put on by her favorite band (click the link; I honestly have no idea what genre they are, but if you aren’t into rock/metal, don’t listen to them). I experienced my first mosh pit and I did the most illegal thing I’ve ever done. My parents still don’t know, but they had decided that since I couldn’t drive, my friend would drive my car. I did not feel comfortable with her driving and I also knew how to get around town better than she did. So when we got so far from my home, we would do the Chinese Fire Drill and switch seats, and off we sped, me being awesome for once and doing the only thing I’ve ever done that my parents would have whooped my ass had they found out (they still don’t know). Yup, and of course, she totally had to freak out because we were driving next to a police officer for a while.

But that is totally remedied. I have finally proven my worth to the world and gotten my license as of July 20th. Only four years after the time I should have gotten my act together in the first off. And to conclude, other than telling the entire world what a piss-poor teenager I am, I think that driving is a right. We just don’t want to realize that’s what it is, but really. If it was a privilege, I think there would be a lot more to it than “Hey, we want you to drive around a block and if you can, you pass! Yay, have a prize for being so cool!”. Like an IQ test or something.

Especially in California. Sorry, if anyone is from California, I don’t mean to offend. Your drivers are the butt of any and all driving jokes in Oregon. Seriously, pull it together. You drive like crap. Most of the idiots on the road that we see have Californian license plates. It’s like, you have to come to Oregon and try to run us off our own roads. Go back to your overcrowded state and do it there! You make me nervous and I shrink down like a little old lady, glaring over the steering wheel (which is hard to do, being average height and not at all shriveled), trying not to die because you think you can merge wherever you willy-nilly please. You can’t. There are other people. In large, incredibly fast-moving metal death traps. You may think you’re safe in whatever vehicle you’re in, that you spent a crap load of money on, but guess what: you are not. So stop endangering the rest of us. We appreciate it. Our insurance companies appreciate it. Our pockets appreciate it. Thanks.

Please enjoy my crappy paint skills:

NOT. GOOD. FOR. ANYBODY.

Feeling the Love and All That Comes With It

I logged onto my e-mail account, singing along to whatever was blasting from my mp3 at that precise moment, and came across an e-mail that someone commented on my “About” page. Being the shy pessimist that I am, I immediately said to myself “This can’t be good.”

I love being wrong when it comes to something positive landing in my lap. And that one little comment, made by Lillian of High, High, Higher! completely made my day. Can you blame me? I’ve been blogging for about four months now, getting not one, but two nominations in one day is the biggest accomplishment I’ve made thus far. (Actually, second to posting a political opinion of mine; that  took a ton of guts on my part.) When I haven’t been sitting, trying to think about what to write, I’ve been swaggering around as if I just learned I won a billion dollar lotto and am going to purchase my first tropical island.

I really do have a big ego, don’t I? I don’t think I’ve noticed it until I made the realization that I am a swell enough writer. There’s always been that little doubt in my mind that no matter what I’m writing, be it fiction, or just these simple blog posts, I suck at it. I suppose it stems from being a pessimist, but hey, I really shouldn’t be listening to that stupid little voice in the back of my head, should I? I’ve evidently got some sort of writing gumption and realizing it makes me glow.

The first award I’ve been nominated for is the “One Lovely Blog Award.” And, because what fun would it be if we just had to say “Hey, I got this award, like me”, there are some guidelines to follow:

  • Link back to the blogger who nominated you
  • Paste the award image on your blog
  • Tell 7 Facts About Yourself
  • Nominate 15 other blogs that you would like to give the award to.
  • Contact the bloggers that you have chosen and let them know about the award.

Simple! I hope.

Seven facts about myself, huh? Let’s see what I can come up with.

1. I am, without a doubt, an introvert. I can be outgoing and all, but I prefer being quiet and being at home, good music playing in the background to drown out as I read.

2. I have an addiction. You’d think I’d say books or a certain food item, or maybe something else. Nope. This one we can blame Blizzard Entertainment for. I can’t truly call myself a female gamer, can I, since I don’t tend to play a ton of other games, other than World of Warcraft, and recently, Diablo 3. I’ve been playing WoW for six years; seven in November. Ugh, thinking about how long I’ve been playing makes me shake my head and wonder what the hell I could have done with those seven years.

3. I’m as close as a Welsh Corgi expert as I can get without becoming either certifiable to be a judge or clinically insane (wait, I don’t think I have to be a dog expert to be close). Seriously. Since the fifth grade, when I got a dog book, and I saw the picture of the sable Pembroke Welsh Corgi, I knew exactly what type of dog I wanted since then. Ask me anything; I’ll tell you the differences between Pembrokes and Cardigans. And I’ll strangle you if you attempt any funny business with these two dog breeds. *crazy gleam in her eye*

4. Bloodlines: Scottish and Irish on my dad’s side. Woo, woo.

5. Potatoes have got to be one of my favorite foods. Any time at all. Potato wedges, mashed potatoes, potatoes in stews, fries, baked potatoes, just set in front of me, it’ll be devoured and loved.

6. I love fairy tales as well as mythology. At one point, I’d read all of the Ancient Greek myths I could get my hands on before I was thirteen. (If anyone knows where, exactly, I can find the original fairy tales, before the Brother’s Grimm came along, I’d love you forever.)

7. I’m one of those weirdos who likes to say the lines with the actors (and actresses) in certain movies when I’ve watched it enough times. I can also sing along with the songs if there are any. Here’s to you, David Bowie, for making The Labyrinth one of my favorite all time movies.

Next up is the “Sunshine Award”. I like this one because depending on who I’m hanging out with, I’m an absolute ray of sunshine. 😉 The rules are:

  • Include the award’s logo in a post or on your blog.
  • Answer 10 questions about yourself.
  • Nominate other fabulous bloggers.
  • Link your nominees to this post and comment on their blogs, letting them know they have been nominated.
  • Share the love and link the person who nominated you.

Ten questions about myself? Ugh, this is frustrating. I normally ask myself retarded questions I don’t want to publish on my blog! What is this?! Totally kidding.

1. What is up with your sense of humor? To be honest, I haven’t got a clue. It’s like, two parts dry, one part dark, with a hint of politically incorrectness mixed with that slightly innocent “I don’t quite get it, but I still think it’s funny” thing.

2. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? To visit, Scotland. I’ve had a dream to find my heritage and get married in the highlands. To live, Hawaii.

3. What’s one of your aspirations? I’ve already reached it — have someone think I’m a worthy blogger! But in reality, I’d love to write an epic fantasy novel. Or series. I’m slowly plodding along with my first potential book that’s last longer than ten pages! I’m proud of myself.

4. If you had to choose an era of music, which is the best, in your opinion? The 1980s, without a doubt. Even with the racy lyrics, there’s just something about the music that makes me love it to pieces. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got everything from alternative to modern rock to new age instrumental and rap on my mp3, but there is nothing like a good 1980s rock ballad or an 80s pop song.

5. Most annoying thing you’ve ever had to do? Move the summer between Sophomore and Junior year. If anyone wants some advice when you’re a parent, or if you’re already a parent and planning on moving, DO. NOT. DO. THIS. And I’m not saying this as someone who had to move three hours away from her two best friends, I’m saying this from a “Crap, I have to do WHAT to get those credits on my transcript?” point of view. Twelve weeks, people, twelve weeks I devoted 70 minutes of my day, five days a week, to sitting in a room of freshmen. It may not sound that long or that bad, but dear lord, it was the most horrible thing I’ve ever done. At one point, I had to ask my teacher if I could leave, they had gotten so “rambunctious.” And all because Redmond requires different requirements to graduate than Molalla. Thanks, mom and dad.

6. You mentioned earlier that you play World of Warcraft. Just how big of a nerd are you? I have played Dungeons and Dragons. Not online, not on the Xbox (though we did have this awesome D&D game on the Xbox; I was the halfling rogue and I was bad ass as hell) but with dice and pencil and paper. Top that.

7. Favorite fairy tale/myth/legend/folk-lore? The tale of the Selkie. I can’t explain why I’m drawn to that, out of all the ones I’ve read, but that takes the cake.

8. What, honest to god, scares you most? That’s a toss-up between being left alone and forgotten forever (hello, being marooned by pirates) or where we go after death. I’d say spiders, too, but while they scare me out of my skin, I’m not totally above giving up complete human interaction. I’m also human. The unknown scares me.

9. Have you ever been drunk? This is where most normal nineteen year olds say “Hell yes, I went to a party just the other night and got drunker than ****!” Being drunk does not interest me, vomiting on my shoes or shoes does not interest me, embarrassing Facebook photos do not interest me. Does that sound like I’ve answered the question? Bet it does. However, I have been drunk. On more than one occasion. Now, I can’t truly tell you what happened, you’d have to ask my parents but, uh, I drank enough to pass out. Several times. The kicker? I was two.

10. Do you have a guilty pleasure? Of course I do. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t? Mine is, and this is embarrassing, but hell, why not, a otome game. I don’t know, it’s just incredibly fun. Don’t judge me!

I’d just like to thank everyone for this, really. Knowing I have an audience and support makes this feel worthwhile, whether it seems to be a rather pointless and silly post or something meaningful. Big hugs!

As for my nominees, in no particular order:

art-profiles – I love art, and they’ve posted amazing artists that make me want to better my talents

Pumps & Iron – Food, clothing, and workouts to make sure you can stay in those cute clothes you just bought!

LadyRomp – Always bringing in inspirational women and articles about us lovely ladies, as well as posting some beautiful photos.

StyleSprite – Yes, I secretly have a passion for fashion.

Live to Write – Write to Live – What’s better than reading tips from professionals? Especially for an aspiring writer?

Talk about amazing, every one of them!

Writer’s Block, You Evil Thing

Has it really been ten days since my last post? Humph. My excuse is that for five days, I was gone at camp (which was fun, as usual. It wasn’t until the last night that I decided, and I literally said aloud “I don’t need bug spray this time around. No bugs have been bothering me.”, I didn’t need bug spray. Itchy, itchy, itchy!) then writer’s block hit me. Oh, I could have gone into detailed length about camp, but eh. Once the pet battle system in the MoP beta came out, I thought about that, but, eh. That’s just about covered on any WoW site. So, whatever. Then Saturday, I could have come home and talked about seeing Magic Mike. After a six-hour round trip car drive? No thanks, too tired!

Okay, quick thing about Magic Mike… It was actually really good. And not in the sense of “Oh, well, this movie is very mentally stimulating.” Ladies, two words: Channing Tatum. Because I went and saw it with family, afterwards, one of my cousin’s said “That was the first time I’ve ever been jealous of a floor.” Oh, Hollywood. Bringing us men in nothing but thongs that are so chiseled, they can’t be real. Give me a moment as I swoon a bit thinking about him.

In other ‘news,’ I finally have a watch. And the cheap plastic green watch I bought for a dollar at my local Dollar Tree. I went out and bought a watch. Actually, to be more precise, a watch face. “A watch face? Uh, what?” My good, dear friends, let me explain to you: I am an artiste. I may not be very good at being an artiste, but nonetheless! I know what I am and what I am is creatively inclined. You can find a few of my art pieces on DeviantArt. I rarely use it anymore, just because I am lazy and don’t tend to scan my pieces. I really need to. I went through and redid a few drawings (my preferred medium is colored pencils) that I know needs to be posted.

But yeah, I also can get a bit crafty with jewelry making. I’m a whiz with friendship bracelets, and since coming home from Hawaii with a turtle charm, I’ve been slowly collecting beads and wire and the like to make actual bracelets. If I do say so myself, my little watch is quite cute. I enjoy it a lot. The jewelry making, that is. I actually pumped this baby out in about 70 minutes — in a moving vehicle. Yeah, I know, let’s hear it: “You are a bad ass. We worship you.” (Kidding. Though I am bad ass at times.)

I’ve also started with the illuminated letters again. I had started a harpy (queen) a while back; most risqué thing I’ve ever drawn. I guess that tells everyone my life has been pretty sheltered. So I finished the rough draft of my harpy (queen) and had copied it over to the final paper… I was not happy with the results. So I threw it in my folder and gave up for a moment or two, before making my brother give me an idea as well as a letter to come up with. We went through B and incubus, before one of us finally said: “W IS FOR WYVERN.” And that’s what I drew. This is just the rough copy, but hey, I’ll post it when it’s finished!

A Secret Dream And A New Goal

Secret dream, secret dream, come true, come true, since I’ve told no one about you!

Okay, well, that little ditty is a lie now since I’m doing the opposite and am basically telling the whole internet about my “secret dream.” And depending on who you ask, some will tell you my dream is to become president, or a world-renowned chef, or the next Tolkien/Jordan/Martin-esque writer of the world.

It’s all a lie, like the cake and the secret cow levels! Okay, the writing one isn’t too far off, but it’s not a secret. I openly wave notebooks and sheets of papers with words on them to people and try to make them read what I wrote. “If you don’t read this poem, you’re a terrible person and I don’t want to be your friend anymore!” always works. I think, I wouldn’t know, I’m not that pushy!

Nope, my secret dream isn’t building a school and education system in that school that I feel should be implemented everywhere; it’s not drawing that comic book I’ve been planning (which is pretty cool, to be honest; I’ll have to talk about that sometime); it isn’t moving to Portland or to Hawaii; it isn’t wanting to get married to a great guy with a huge family and having six or seven kids to get into trouble all the time. Side note: Yes, I’d actually push six or seven or more kids out of my womanly parts if the universe be willing.

Nope, none of that is my secret dream. I’ll give you some hints. They all have something to do with it.

  • Masquerading as a man with a reason; my charade is the event of the season; and if I pretend to be a wise man, it surely means that I don’t know
  • Smoke on the water and fire in the sky
  • Hold the line; love isn’t always on time
  • She’ll promise heaven on earth; but don’t believe her
  • Shot through the heart; and you’re to blame; darling, you give love a bad name
  • I’ve got a black magic woman

Okay, okay, what do any of these song lyrics have to do with it (and if you couldn’t tell, Carry On My Wayward Son is one of my favorite songs)? Everything and nothing.

I’ve grown up to the sounds of many of these songs, most of the time I tried as hard as I could to not listen to this “old crap” my parents favored so much. Especially since my dad was always playing some song or another. Every once in a while, Sweet Home Alabama or Wanted Dead or Alive will come on the radio or my mp3, and I have to stop and think about why in the world someone else is singing my dad’s song. Then I place my palm on my face and say “Stupid, dad’s the one who’s been playing THEIR songs!”

My secret dream is that I want to beat on the drums or play the guitar someday in a band. Preferably to renditions of this “old crap” music that I hold so dearly to my heart nowadays. That would be amazing, and it’s songs like above that make me want to go bang on the drums. So to do something about it, I’m going to teach myself. I have a goal, and it’s gonna happen! Screw the universe, this is something I can actually do; my fertility rate may be crap, I don’t know. I’m not having kids at the moment.

(Also, should you be wondering why I’ve been posting so quickly this week, it’s because tomorrow, I leave for five days to go to camp. Just, ya know, if anyone cares!)

A Change In Thinking

American Flag

I’m not one to speak politically. Most of the time. I, like the average American, have other things to do than try to think about what’s going wrong in our government. But even so, I have my opinion about the state of the government, about the officials in office, and what we ought to be doing to fix our shattered infrastructure. I also don’t normally voice my opinion to anyone else other than one person I know I can count on to have a structured political conversation with: my mother.

Oh, I know how this sounds, I do. Yet, I think this needs to be said, and what better place to put this than on the internet where the world can read it and judge it? So you, dear reader, are going to sit in your café or on your couch, or on the train, and read my opinion on the United States of America.

First off, the nation is in shambles, whether we realize it or not. We have a multi-trillion dollar debt; we import more than we export; our jobs have almost all been outsourced; and we’re slowly going down the literacy ladder. How does a nation with three hundred million citizens allow this to happen? How do we fix this? What will happen to our country if we continually let our government go down this road?

“Follow the money trail.” The first time I ever heard this phrase was junior year of high school from my history teacher. Everything in history has a money trail. And currently ours is leading to a pretty crappy future. What do I mean? I mean, my generation and our children’s generations and so on are going to be left with a United States no one really wants to deal with. I’m pretty sure most don’t want to deal with us now. Why’s that? $15,000,000,000,000 and counting. It’s a beautiful number, isn’t it. You just want to reach out and pet it, tell it it’s a good boy, that no one ever wants to hurt it. WRONG! We want to get rid of that number. We want to blast it into space because it’s a negative number. It’s an evil, bad number lined in red that needs to go away. How can we fix this? How do we turn our profits around to make over fifteen trillion dollars in debt fifteen trillion dollars to line our pockets with? Okay, maybe not that much to line our pockets with, but you get my point, right? I hope so.

This is where it gets good.

Instead of playing the “Oh, we want countries to like us” card, we need to be playing the “I may like you and all, but TARRIFS FOR EVERYONE” card. Yes. Tariffs. That’s one way to bring in revenue.

Another way is to stop allowing business’s to outsource our jobs. Seriously, guys. I like knowing that somewhere a family in China is eating tonight, but we’re trying to rebuild a once great nation. Stop. The. Outsourcing. Someone once mentioned to me that maybe we should be putting taxes on the businessmen who have decided to outsource the jobs Americans once had. Make it so that they want to come back and give us our jobs back. We need to be self-supporting. We also need to start exporting our own goods.

The next thing we can do is stop buying products that have been imported. To get our economy back on track, we really need to be buying and producing locally. I know, I know, this means spending a lot more on groceries, but hey, think of it as making a super good investment in your local farmers as well as protecting your children from potentially harmful foods. How much pesticide do you think may be on that imported apple you bought recently? It also means that we need to be buying food in season. Buy foods that are in season that are produced locally and we’re headed there.

What else can we do to revive the US of A? This one is my favorite:

REFOCUS ON EDUCATION!

But wait, you may say, what, exactly, is wrong with our educational system?

My rebuttal: There aren’t enough gas stations in the country to supply enough jobs. We don’t see education as a thing that is important, unless it depends on your family. Teachers try to make a difference, but how can they when they’re limited and when the student doesn’t, pardon the language, f*cking care? We re-evaluate our education standards, we can do something. More educated minds mean more ideas to save everything on the planet. Yes. Everything. I’m not going to end up like the people in WALL-E. And instead of restricting our teachers, let them do what they need to help our kids. And parents, do a better job at being in your children’s education. Make them into nerds. Every last one of them. Nerds are good. I like nerds. Nerds have brain power.

Here’s another way to revive the United States: start voting. I’m a hypocrite in this category, because I didn’t vote when I got the primary ballot. But I registered democrat. One name. There was one name on that ballot. We all know whose it was, too. He’s the only democrat running.

Start voting, people. Look each candidate over, ask yourself “what is he going to do for this country? What is he going to do for our people?” and instead of thinking “Screw voting, no one is worth it” just choose the next best candidate. Tah-dah, recipe for something. If we all think about what each candidate, no matter the election type, brings to the table, we’ll be headed to a better place.

But it’s not just the voting we need to be doing. Back to following the money. Politics is a dirty game (can you blame me for not wanting to share my opinion?) and money is the power. Dirty deals, underhanded going on’s, it’s all part of it. This is what could lead us to the worst thing that could happen: a presidential candidate that doesn’t want his or her term to end after eight years; instead, they’re going to seize power. I may not see it happen, we may not see it happen for years, but you know someone’s going to break the mold. Then where will we be?!

Sorry if I sound exasperated, that’s the point. What I’m trying to say is that we really need to overhaul everything in this country to make it great again. We need to stop being lazy suckers, start looking around, and trying to fix what IS broken. Because whether you like to admit it or not, something at the moment isn’t working, and it’s up to the people of the people’s nation to make the United States of America great again. And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that we highly enjoy helping other nations, but we kind of need to take a step back and help ourselves first.

So let’s review what we can do right now:

  • Buy produce locally and in season
  • Focus better on our education
  • Pay better attention to our election candidates, not just presidential
  • Spread the word that it’s time the PEOPLE started to bring change, not just the face of the USA

Okay, I’m done. I think I tried to make my thoughts as coherent as possible. I know education is a bit… fuzzy, to say the least, but I didn’t write down what I needed to about that, sadly. I just know education isn’t a priority as it once was and that needs to be changed.