In Which I Did Absolutely Nothing But Found Out A Bunch Of Stuff

            I have made an important discovery over the last few days: My last post didn't seem to go through my mental filter. This is both good and bad. Bad because it leads to passing comments from my dad. (Embarrassing!) And good because this is probably the most extroverted thing I have ever done. I think I should do it more often.

            Today I did a lot of drawing and didn't get one thing done. My desk is now full of half-finished drawings that I set aside for later when I started a new one. Most of them are about some of the little characters I made up. Like Rainy Rabbit, the Boredom Monsters, Max... I don't think I've mentioned Max.

            I came up with Max a couple years back. If Rainy Rabbit and Bunny are the White Rabbit to my Wonderland, he'd be the Cheshire Cat. Of course this is a very loosely-based comparison. The fact remains that he is a winged talking cat with the power to turn into a winged talking tiger. So just forget what I said about the Cheshire Cat. I've also doodled a couple of muse fairies. Now if I could only finish something...

           Completely off topic: A random thing that has annoyed me since I started is the fact that the 'Tabs' button makes the blinking line of writing stuff disappear and highlights 'Post Settings'. So I simply press the 'Space' button twelve times. Every time. Back to previous topic!

            I think being able to write is awesome. But having some kind of thing for only writing half a story is a problem. I had an idea for a story once. I made up a couple characters and decided to give them a test run by writing a passage that I'd probably work into it somewhere. I ended up writing the rest of the thing from that point, so I had an ending and a good bit of the middle, but didn't have a start. Oh, the irony. And if I start doing the same thing with drawing... I'm going to be... really annoyed.

            But enough acting like I have no control over that aspect of my life. I should be thinking about school. Rude awakening from Mom today: I think I go back in, like, a week. Nooo!

T.Y.G.E.R.

Boredom

Here's a little story about something that happened this summer:

             One day, a very extremely bored me was browsing the internet.

She was so bored she actually Googled 'Boredom'. It did not solve her 

problem. Suddenly, she did something amazing. Something nobody ever 

even considers doing in the history of today's internet.

            She exited out, shut down her computer, and grabbed a piece of 

paper and pencil. She drew something random, a cute little animal that 

looked positively harmless. Right away she decided it must be evil and 

deadly. It should be different shades of beige. She thought, drawing 

an arrow pointing to it. And be really agile. At the end of the arrow she 

wrote: Boredom Monster! >:( 

            She shivered in anticipation as her imagination began to formulate

exactly what a Boredom Monster was. Like boredom, it leeched all the 

energy and emotions out of you. It's insides were old bits of doll parts and 

ruin. (I had Alice: Madness Returns on the brain.) I also knew I couldn't lay

a finger on something that cute. (Which is why I made it an evil manifestation 

of my boredom. Boredom is very hard to get rid of, if it was something ugly,

I would be able to get rid of it real fast. It's the ultimate weapon! It'd be a 

shame not to take advantage of it.) 

            She drew some more, and daydreamed that she battled with the 

Boredom Monsters, lost that, was for some reason still alive due to the 

intervention of her worst enemy. (who turned out to be a totally different

person. But still her worst enemy.) Who told her that the Boredom Monsters

were her own creation. He (the worst enemy) goes off to do his own thing to

stop them, and tries to keep her away so she doesn't do any more damage.

He fails miserably at both. In the end, she has to rescue him and she saves the world.

            With the power of imagination! As you can imagine, I wasn't bored anymore after that. I was so bored right now that I figured I'd bring up this. Funny how when you pour the raw contents of your mind onto something it seems so much weirder. My dad tells me: Stupid people get bored. I say: Stupid people get bored and don't resolve it. Not to his face though... because I just thought of it now. Darn. That statement has always annoyed me, usually because he says it right after I forget myself and mention my boredom. NEVER TELL A GROWNUP THAT YOU'RE BORED! They either say something scathing, or they give you work. Work is dull. If boredom is thirst, entertainment is water, and work is saltwater. You're doing something, but it's not any less boring. *Rants about it some more inside head* Bye.

T.Y.G.E.R.

My Sister, Thorn

            I wonder if there's a way to get more than seven not-so-different fonts. Well, for now it's just those. So, yesterday I couldn't think of anything to write... And still don't have any idea of what to write. But I'm writing because A: rants are apparently popular so far on the poll. B: I have to, because I'll die of boredom if I don't (among other things.) 
            So yesterday absolutely NOTHING happened. Well, my sister's headphones shorted out so she was begging/trying to blackmail (me)/demanding (once again: me) everyone else to 'borrow' theirs. So mom let her use hers. Which she then lost. I found them ten minutes after I let mom use mine for her MP3 player at work and she left. No biggie, except I'm silly enough to hand them to my dear sister who thinks she's still entitled to unlimited use of it--at least till mom get's back. Dad bursts her bubble, she throws a tantrum, and once again shows off her supernatural ability to ruin everyone's day all in one go.
            The reason headphones are such a big deal is that our laptop speakers are slightly lousy, and we both prefer headphones. Only my sister, who will start arguments insisting she has a monopoly on a particular type of soda or cereal, would turn something like that into a national crisis. She's absolutely great, but she's like the girl with the curl. When she's good, she's very, very good.
And when she's bad, she's horrid.

T.Y.G.E.R

Art and Me

            Yay! People are looking at my stuff! Cool. I've been wanting to mention this artist called JellyVampire on Deviant Art who made this really inspiring comic called 'Like an Artist'.(Link Here)
It's pretty popular. It's about a girl named Ida and how she becomes an artist, taking advice from an animal that's the personification of her artist soul. It got me back into drawing, which I had been shying away from lately, becoming more inclined towards writing. Sometimes it occurs to me how much I really, really need to improve on both. I am envious of doodles. Such small things that turn into big awesome things that make you kinda wish you didn't draw it on the back of your science quiz. I've also created many Woodles (Word Doodles) of little flights of fancy I continue till the muse fairy and/or plot bunny and/or idea dies. But unlike Doodles you can't stop whenever you want, so basically they're just unfinished weirdness that I look back and wonder why in the wide world web did I start it.

T.Y.G.E.R.

{I do think the word I was looking for was 'plot bunny' but it's just not my kind of phrase. Muse fairy. Sounds nice enough. I'm sticking with that. :)}

Stories

           The bit and pieces of my stories have a habit of squirming away, but right now I've started a short story. My mom and dad say that I used to have two toy rabbits. One was gray and one, called bunny, who I still have, that's brown. I lost the gray one a long, long time ago. I decided to write a story about what happened to him. It starts like this:

The Lost Rabbit

                The gray ghost of a childhood that could have been clambered out of the trash bin. He shook the scraps of shredded letters and cigarette ash out of his fur, barely stopping to mourn for his former companion. As far as she knew, there had only been one. Bunny the Rabbit. Fur as brown as chocolate milk—the only kind she’ll drink. Fur that was permeated with the scent of memories. A serious frown (for it was years to come before her mother gave him the ability to smile like did in her eyes.) and shiny black eyes that she liked to think focused and saw things. (Which he did.) She had suspicions, of course, mentioning a bizarre dream or two where there were ‘two Bunnies’. They couldn’t come back for him. (Once a toy got thrown away in an unfamiliar place he or she had to disappear, it was the law.) Not now.

           I've written a bit more after that, but I think I might branch out in another direction with this. I am going to finish this. Eventually. Oh and I've decided to name the gray one Rainy Rabbit. I might introduce Bunny later into the story too. Any suggestions would be awesome. 

Robot Commentators? Oh, look a kitten!

            My dad mentioned something about those annoying gibberish things that you have to type to confirm you're a person. I don't understand, is there a computer program people use to comment on stuff? It's not so troublesome, I guess. I'm just not used to it. I've never been to another site that did that. 

*            *            *

            This is something I did when I was playing around with Paint.NET. Her name is Maggie. The results of boredom never cease to amaze me. Isn't she the cutest? I wish I had a kitten. Cats are awesome.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Hello

            Okay, first blog, first posts. I was freaking out because I thought that my Blogger account and my actual blog(s) were the same thing. I was so confused! I feel silly now. Anyhow, I'm seriously new to this. I don't know what all the buttons on here do so I'm gonna take some time to explore. I have no idea what I'm doing! Wah. I feel stupid! I don't like being in a state of complete ignorance! :(
            But then again, who does? Unless it's something like a surprise party, we like to know things. Well, mostly. I don't usually care to know every detail about my family's life. Now, my younger sister, she's a total gossip girl at times. She wants to know things and she wants to tell people things. Badly. But bring up the word clean and suddenly she's out of your face for the day. Or any flaws she might be flaunting. (Usually her know-it-all act.) But sometimes she'll come out with something absolutely priceless.
(I bring up our neighbor.)
"Oh, him? I'm never going over to his house again. He made me crash my bike."
"Really."
"Into an oven." She adds cheerfully.
(My cousins look at each other in amusement and confusion.)
"Um, how?"
"Riding up a hill." She says it like it's perfectly reasonable method.
Yep, a conversation like that really happened. Maybe she wasn't trying to ride up the hill, but she definitely  mentioned somehow riding into an oven. Our neighbors' have a lot of stuff in their backyard, most of it being car stuff. The dad's a mechanic. Kids aren't allowed to play back there, but the driveway leads a little ways towards the back, so the oven bit made more sense to me than anybody else.
             But like all sister's her attitude will get to me sometimes. She has a thing for causing drama. She offers to cook breakfast--and does! But she won't clean up anything. That's my job.
            See? I am ranting! I've gone off topic into some speech about my sister. Well, my sister's more interesting than how confused I was by the blogging thing and how new I am yadda, yadda, yadda. That's boring. Wow, it's late. I'll end it here.

T.Y.G.E.R