So I Am Very Angry and Remembered that I Have a Blog

'Dear' School System,

            Why are you just figuring out that Advisement might actually be worth something if we talked about something besides Homecoming votes and passed out our report cards?
            Why are we only just talking about our grades in depth and what GPA is and more importantly, what our GPA is?
Why am I just learning that my hope GPA is under a the fucking 3-point-goddamn-I-fucking-hate-college-and-I-haven't-even-gotten-there-yet-oh and it only counts five FUCKING SUBJECTS!?
My two art classes were a waste of my time.
My two creative writing classes were a waste of my time.
            MY YEAR LONG SPIN IN CONCERT BAND THAT I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE WAS A WASTE OF MY TIME-of course I already knew that.
I don't want to go to college.
Like, I really, really don't.
Everyone there says it sucks.
Nobody has fun.
             The fact that most people don't even get a job they use what they got a diploma in is accepted as not only a part of life but a joke.
The fact that I'm not interested in anything marketable.
             The fact my parents think college is a magical place that will spit me out and I'll get a high-paying job in what I love no questions asked so I won't have to do hard manual labor and struggle to get by ever.
             The fact I have virtually no useful skills. At all. I'm pathetic. I look at resumes and wonder how in my life I'll ever get a goddamn job because I literally have no idea what I'd put on it.
             Why didn't anyone tell me how I was impacting my grade in 10th grade because I literally stopped giving a fuck. I didn't want the stress, and I didn't want to cry over possible C's. I didn't know what to do to keep my GPA up or really what my GPA was no one told me. I was only fucking told this year. Like, halfway last semester this year.
             And don't get me started on how I was continually told to get straight A's in elementary and middle school and-whoop-dee-doo surprise none of that actually accounts for anything fuck you and anything you're actually good at and ever were.
Which isn't fucking much now, is it?
Because what I love... is useless. Underrated, uncounted, and pointless. 
(Hell, you have sports shoved so far up your ass, school system, why don't you toss PE stuff in? I took a required personal fitness class that put me off exercise for life like years of classes have done for MATH and now is doing for science, that's a semester I'm never gonna get back, but somehow I got an A. No? Of course.)
AP drawing sounded wonderful before that was dropped on me. Now I wish I had changed it.
So did Music in Film.
But none of it matters now, does it?
Even Dad said it, I don't want to do anything marketable.
            I don't know what's wrong with me. People talking to me, or around me, feel like taking a drill to my brain, and sometimes I want to yell or something at them, but there's no logical reason for it. Usually they're just minding their own business, or trying to help or just talk to me. I recognize it's not acceptable, but... it's happening and I'd like to know what's wrong and how to fix it? Like I want to fight something in some way, really. I literally can't work up the motivation, be it positive or negative, to do shit. I hate everyone and everything and every little part of me and what I do. I want to put the world on pause for a bit.
           I've tried to talk to my parents about it, but they kinda believe that you can make (rather 'force') yourself happy no matter what. Dad throws 'coping' around a lot. I can't even tell them I'm fucking bored or Dad pretty much calls me stupid. 'Only stupid people get bored.' But, besides the point, they may make me feel better for a short time... but they kinda... don't actually... help. Like no solutions offered, just assurances. Though I guess that's the best they can do.
I'm not used to being like this.
I'm not the one that's supposed to get like this.

T.Y--fuck it.

Lily

Alright... Now what?

            One in the afternoon and nothing accomplished yet... make that almost 1:30. Meh, getting to it now...
Did I mention that my blog has a weird quirk of all the text being in Comic Sans if it doesn't load properly?
It's a pet peeve of mine.
As is the LACK OF CUTE FI--OH SHIT THEY'RE BACK!
THE FISHIES ARE BACK!
I REPEAT.
THE FISHIES ARE APPEARING WHEN I LOOK AT MY BLOG!
THIS IS A GOOD DAY.
I AM HAPPY NOW.
The little things please me, okay? Virtual fish... nice fonts... finding out my mom bought cheese popcorn...
Mmm... cheese popcorn...
            Yeah, so along with this, myNoise descriptions are back to being daily, did I mention? I think I forgot to mention... that thing's been getting to be the most popular thing I've written on there...
OH.
OH WAIT.
REMEMBERED A THING.
REMEMBERED I FINISHED SOMETHING I SAID I WAS GONNA.
OH.
TO DOCUMENTS!
FUCK.
NOT THERE.
FUCK.
DID I DELETE IT?
WAIT.
I TURNED IT IN FOR A GRADE IN SCHOOL...
TO FLASH DRIVE!
IT'S THERE.
THANK GOD.
YES. FINALLY.
            Remember this stupid thing? Well guess who remembered she mustered up the motivation to get this stupid thing done so she could pass her fucking creative writing class? Answer: THIS GIRL.
I.
AM.
VICTORIOUS.
BOO-YAH.
            Ahem... yes... um, ending this here, on a high note... I still have for other tasks to do... read 10 pages out of book... work on CHatID... finish that art thing... the myNoise thing.
(Again linking to the actual myNoise website because it's wonderful and donating to it would be a good cause, I think. Even the science behind it is kinda neat... *awkward cough*)
See ya tomorrow.

T.Y.G.E.R.

On the Internet and My Sister

            Okay, so everybody talks about my internet addiction in my family. Everyone knows that the moment the internet goes down, I will emerge two seconds later... 'Moooom.' and everyone will know why. Today, I have seen how my sister acts when this happens.
God almighty the anger issues.
Literally threatening the world at large and assigning blame to everything that moved, she stormed through the house, cursing under her breath, hitting inanimate objects.
            And I'm the addicted one. She was watching YouTube. YouTube. And she threw a fit like dad had cut out the internet as a big personal insult. Self control, kiddo! My reaction to a broken connection is a mild sense of disappointment and then I inquire upon the matter to see if it can be fixed promptly. If it can't well... tough. If it can... yay. Jokes are always made that I would crumple up and die without internet but my sister... my sister took all of .2 seconds to go on a little warpath. What the hell!
            The problem with Rose is she has no patience or ability to distinguish corrective criticism from insult. I suppose she'd rather wallow in her own righteous indignation and threaten life and limb of who dare question her evident perfection. She's lovely, yes, but often brawn over brains, like a little lion. I appreciate her confidence and take-no-shit attitude, envy it, sometimes, but like all siblings she can... be annoying. I love her though. No matter what she says out of drama-fueled theatrics.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Unwisely Applied FOCUS MODE

            So it's 8:49, my room is defrosting because I left the AC blasting, I am almost reaching starving levels of hunger, AND I HAVE SPENT LITERALLY MOST OF THE DAY WORKING ON THIS GODDAMN PICTURE OF AN OC. Like a proper, full-sheet-of-paper piece of art. Nothing else has been done. I still need to at least look at Lost Rabbit and the FSMverse and do a fucking myNoise thing. I have listen to nearly all of the music by 'myuuji' on YouTube that I can find, and I am really ready to be finished with this... so, I'll leave you with that insight into my day so far... it's nearly nine PM... Goodbye.

T.Y.G.E.R.

On John Masque and THE STORY

            Okay, so last time I posted some art for a story I've been working on... and I didn't add a lot of explanation at the time because, to be honest, it's hard to find the words. I said I was gonna explain JM... and I will! But first, the story he, River, and my character are all from.
            The collective name for all the versions of a story I have is called just that: THE STORY. I have been working on THE STORY for a really fucking long time. Like since before I even knew it, as a little bitty tyke scrawling intelligible Lion King fanfiction of construction paper with crayon and chatting with one of ten Imaginary Friends about how awesome we were at fighting those faceless, nameless baddies as I thumbed through a booklet of shiny stickers. That leads up to the now, where it’s evolved into a tale spanning universes and worlds!

I have yet to start the actual story though.

I'm polishing and planning a lot.

           Though in all honesty, this current incarnation does have a proper title, though it may be subject to change. Free Thought incorporates my four main story-verses into it, though focuses mainly on its own. I've actually named them...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dreamverse-Free Thought. Includes River and Tyger. Also Darwin's included. As is my sister.

Viviaverse-Lost Rabbit. If you've read it, you've met the characters. John's also from this universe as well.

Alienverse-Mind Games, Chell Howe and the Inter-dimensional Doctors, and Relativity. I haven't said much about Mind Games, but it sort of spawned from a combination of viewing Inception fanart and a story about aliens I found somewhere... I have characters, and some plot, but haven't started it. Relativity is just something that happened at school where I went 'hmm... I wonder if I could write a sort of American spinoff of Doctor Who...' which subsequently turned into 'fuck it! I can be like the Doctor if I want!' and is kinda on hold. I'm writing it episodically, which is weird but seems to work.

FSMverse-Yeah. (That's not the title, I just don't know what to call it yet.) Way back last year I drew a bunch of little doodles of the lives of three kids: Frizz, Stormy, and Miv. Maybe it'll be a little children's book someday. THE STORY includes the grown-up versions of these guys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            So that mountain of text is sorta what I get up to when I'm gone. I have yet to finish anything, but sometimes gluing stuff you're losing interest in to something you are tends to motivate, I find. So that's the more difficult bit tackled... I think.

Onto the OC's!

Tyger and River Myst are what in FT are called Daydreamers. That sort of means they have superpowers... I guess. Though the powers depend on the Skill Type. Tyger is a Magician Skill Type, which is the closest to my original idea of Daydreaming, so she can create objects with her mind and temporarily alter physics and the world around her. River is a Mentalist Skill Type, which is a bit more specific. Telekinesis, mind reading through physical contact, and a tone of voice that allows for mind control. He's odd though, because when in what I refer to as Impulse Form (like how he's shown in the picture), he not only doesn't fit the normal trend but also seems to have an odd quirk of subconsciously manipulating weather. He also has authorization to use time-travel technology. Both work for an organization called Free Thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Masque, though from the same universe, is not from Vivia Drea. Nor is he an Avian, like Angel. He lives on Drea Thet, Vivia's neighboring planet, and he's what's called a Trickster. But he's a lot more human than most of his kind, and that tends to get him into a lot of trouble. He tries to keep to himself as much as he can, and rarely leaves the library where he works and lives unless he has to. He has a 'sister', Molly, and has a few very close friends he's collected over the years. Though he looks about 19-22 on the outside (or older, I guess, if he grew a beard or mustache or something...) he and his sister are actually older than Viviaverse itself (more explanation later~). Details that I couldn't convey in the pictures given are his Trickster Eye, which allows him to see behind him, through walls, or at the most pick out telltale signs that someone's afraid or lying. Each Trickster Eye has a particular shape. Molly's is a heart, and John's is a pentagon. (He normally covers his Eye with his hair.) He also has a phoenix form, and markings on his arms, hands, and his back when his wings aren't taking physical shape. Also he has sharp, pointy black teeth and nails that can turn into black talons. He has flame-y powers and some tricks up his sleeve, like you'd expect. He shares some phoenix traits like bursting into flames to heal when his body is too damaged (Trickster's are immortal except for their Eye, which can be removed to render them helpless.) and healing tears. I'll stop explaining here, but he does have a few more lesser known tics and traits.

I had a whale of a time thinking him up, can't you tell?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Welp, there's a huge chunk of insight into some of my stories. When I get talking about them I end up going on and on and on... I also tend to think in terms of 1, 2, 7, 3, 20, 19, 6... oooh! A butterfly! And it gets muddled. Hell, if spoilers weren't a problem I'd just dump my whole compilation of all the little notes and rules I've written down pertaining to Free Thought on Wattpad. It would save me some trouble. So, leaving this here... See ya.

T.Y.G.E.R.

I'm Baa-aack!

            Okay, so it's been a long time. A really, really, really long time. I have been preoccupied. For one, I have school. School is something I do not enjoy. I do not look forward to any of the classes I currently have. I have effing year-long math. Anyway, some stuff I have been doing, in convenient list form.

1. I have lopped most of my hair off because long hair is a pain in the everything.
2. I started reading Homestuck. I have caught up and am now playing the waiting game 'til the Gigapause ends.
3. Trying to make a Jade Harley Godteir costume. I discovered cosplay is absurdly expensive.
4. Started an Homestucky RP thing with my friend. It's currently on hiatus.
5. Nearly filled up my drawing journal.
6. Worrying about my sanity due to a recent dream I had...
7. Banging my head on a keyboard instead of writing anything substantial.
8. Resisting the urge to start new story after new story when I have yet to finish ANY of my other ones.
9. Trying to convince myself that my other stories actually don't suck and to keep trying to finish them instead of 'revamping' them into something 'better.'
10. Gradually descending into a 'Don't Talk To Me, I Don't Care' attitude toward my classmates and swearing, mostly to myself, more and more.

            Truth is, a couple months ago I started a post and left it until it became outdated. Yeah, I'm on top of this. I'm organized. I can regularly update a blog.
She lied, quite badly.
So. I could apologize, but let's face it. I don't have anyone to apologize to. I don't exactly have a following. Nobody's waiting patiently or not-so-patiently for my next post. I can pretty much do whatever the hell I want.
Unless my dad or something decides to check in. Then I'd just... never hear the end of it, probably.
It can be a really uncomfortable situation, when you're family all looks at your stuff. If you're me, who's self-conscious as fuck, you sort of... censor yourself. Hold back. Be a little more edited. I'm kinda slowly dropping that now, as an experiment. And by dropping that I mean typing like I'm currently thinking it, which is with a couple bad words in it because I'm actually okay with it now.
Woo. I'm a rebel. (Waves fist unenthusiastically.)
            Okay see, what I did there was imply that I'm secretly very out there and edgy and--no. No, I'm a dork. I don't have a fucking clue what anyone wants from me and quite frankly most of the time I just don't care. I might as well not care here. It would save me a lot of trouble, being liked or known on the internet shouldn't even make my list of priorities at age fifteen. That's just stupid.
            Slight change of subject. I've actually had people at school call me rude. People who have continued to sort of irk me since the start and I'm gradually starting to lose my ability to keep up a facade of civility and am actually starting to show that I don't like these people. So I'm rude now. I'm okay with that. I'm not instantly rude to people, at least I don't try to be. But my previous habit of silently harboring a dislike of someone that eventually gets exaggerated into a passive-aggressive (not even aggressive, really.) hate just isn't healthy. Seriously, I might as well make it known that they do irritating stuff like look over my shoulder when I'm drawing or just plain bug me. That's the big thing-Don't fucking look at my stuff while I'm drawing it's not for you, you twat. I will jump, and I will snap at you like a feral cat. It's not funny, it's really intrusive. And it's not about how good I am, because I've had people try to reassure me of that. NO. That is my private journal and don't proceed to pull a twenty questions on me about what I do with it it's none of your goddamn business. Also don't touch it. And don't question why I literally carry it everywhere, because it has a lot to do with people who are just generally asshats. That kind of stuff will just make a small part of me instinctively go 'this person is not worth knowing and should be avoided.' I can't help it, it's just a learned habit.
Is being an antisocial bitch who's quick to judge a learned habit?
'Cause I've concluded that's what I am.
            Part of me want's to be perceived as nice, but I'm just sick of people. I have actually given up at going out of my way to make friends in high school. If I meet someone who's nice and I like them, fine. But I'm not going to surround myself with people for the simple sake of not being alone. That's what's really weird; if you don't have friends in school they think there's something wrong with you, you're unhappy or something. In middle school, I went to the counselor's every other lunch or something and I looked forward to it. She introduced me to two people that she thought 'were a lot like me.'
They were nice... and eventually after talking to them for weeks, I realized...
They were fucking idiots.
We had literally nothing in common.
Letting people pick my friends is the biggest mistake 13-year-old me could make.
Have I reached my moody-teen phase yet? (she asked the sky sarcastically.) I'm going to end this here, because I'm just going to get more an more negative. Goodbye.

T.Y.G.E.R.

In Which I Find Something I Like So Much I Spend a Whole Post Talking About It

            Okay, so the Alice: Otherlands Kickstarter is coming to a close in some 47 hours and THEY HAVE ONLY 85 PERCENT OF THEIR GOAL COMPLETED and that make me very nervous because I have way more emotionally invested in this idea than is safe for my sanity. How in ever-loving eff have they not met and surpassed the $200,000 goal yet? But before I continue ranting, I'll explain what the thing is for those of you not yet ready to click the link.
           I mentioned getting the art book for Alice: Madness Returns for Christmas last year here. A: MR is a video game, and a sequel to American McGee's Alice, which came out in the late 90's/early 2000's that I fell in love with for it's amazing environments, characters, and story. Alice: Otherlands is something of a preview into the third chapter in Alice's story, a series of film shorts of her going into famous minds and helping them fight their inner demons and such. If they don't raise at least $200,000, it won't happen.
And heads will roll if this doesn't happen.
A few more reasons why I am behind this other than any Alice stuff is just fantastic in my opinion, is that they have mentioned it possibly leading to:

1. A feature length film. They actually said that in the trailer. This could lead to a feature length Alice movie.
2. SOMEWHERE--possibly on the AMA American McGee did he said that there was talk of a third Alice game, and that talk was positive. In my head, these film shorts could pretty much be a great promoting thing for the game if that pans out.
3. The idea that Alice can now go into other's minds is so insane that I love it. I love the concept, and the whole dream-world thing has always been something I love to see played with in any media.

And also I suck at video games. I wouldn't be advertising it so much if it weren't so amazing yet so just-barely-there. GO! Look at the concept art! Go to the Facebook Page! And for god's sake donate if you can!

A Rant About Our Library

            So Yahoo is working again, but it really doesn't make a difference because no one e-mails me, so I freaked out for nothing. But I might actually use it one day! One day...
Yesterday I was rudely reminded that our public library is painfully limited and if you want anything specific you're flat out of luck. If they don't not have it, they probably have one freaking copy that you have to return as soon as someone else wants it, finished or not.
(Coughonwritingcough.)
I might as well just buy the god forsaken thing and keep it to thumb through as I please, but Mom is like 'No, that is bull crap' with... good reason... kind of because it wasn't that long and I normally go through books faster than thinking. Unfortunately the point of this was to absorb advice which is a bit harder than absorbing plot. Plus this thing. So I didn't exactly sit down and slog through in one big binge. And the lady, who was generally nice even though she had to tell me I couldn't keep it and that made me kind of irritated, said I could 'look to see if there's an another copy and check out that'.
Wouldn't that be redundant?
If there was a second copy, then it wouldn't be on hold now, would it? I checked. I was right.
But certainly if I was looking up something with the title 'Ten Reasons Why Jesus Loves You' or something like that, I would be up to my ears in content. That is just the kind of town we live in. So there's my rant about that. Goodbye,

T.Y.G.E.R.

Warning: Lots of Whining and Excessive Use of Caps Lock

            Yeah, so I broke the streak. I was watching Inception with my dad okay?! I can't do this, writing stuff every day is HARD. But it lasted for twenty-three posts. That's much longer than I expected! Let's try for every other day, just so I have time to let myself not worry about this thing. I started this for fun and I want to keep it fun, and lately things have just seemed to get crappier and crappier. 
And no one wants that.
On another note, I AM SO ANGRY I THINK I MIGHT CRY.
You know how I said my pen stopped working unless pressure sensitivity tests were on?
NOW IT DOESN'T EVEN DO THAT!
I replaced a pen tip. I put in a new battery. IT HATES ME NOW AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!
It's a beautiful display of karma, or perhaps irony, that this would happen RIGHT after I whine about not having Photoshop, and my dad and I have this talk about working with what you have and he wants to see me drawing on it more before he starts feeding my 'give the mouse a cookie' nature and come back all 'Yeah! I'm going to do that thing!' All motivated and happy. And it doesn't work. As far as I know, it's not the Tablet. The tablet acknowledges that it is coming in contact with the pen. 
Admittedly, my first thought was 'ROSIE!' because she nudged it earlier and I was worried because the pen, sadly, is delicate and the whole big sticker saying LEAVE PEN TIP UNTOUCHED WHEN NOT IN USE that I left on there. But it's been knocked around quite a bit, and it makes a cruel sort of sense that they would make the pen that comes with it to break so you have to buy a new one. A replacement is only ten dollars or something BUT THAT'S A DODGY TRICK AND I DON'T LIKE IT.
(...dodgy...?) Nevermind.
Now I am afraid to ask if I can buy a new pen with my birthday money because I JUST AGREED TO A LECTURE ABOUT DEALING WITH WHAT YOU GOT! And now I've got a... yep, still not working pen and I tablet I WANT to use. UNIVERSE WHY TODAY?! WHY WITH THIS!? 
I genuinely hate everything right now.
And I feel bad for being mean to Rosie.
She takes that stuff way too hard.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Okay, So That Thing I Mentioned Last Time...

            Me and a friend of mine are collaborating on a story. I have never done this before... It's for a mystery story writing contest. It is much harder than I thought, reason one being someone has to die, whether because of her insistence or the simple fact that murder mysteries are the simpler mysteries to write. We disagree a lot. I can't hold interest in a particular storyline. I like the first idea that we decided wasn't really a mystery. Mysteries are amazing to read, surely. Writing them, much like anything, is completely different.
It's waxing mildly frustrating.
Now it's very late and I am tired.
Sorry for keeping this so late... like anyone cares.
As you can tell, we didn't make much progress.
            My sister worried me today. Not the usual worries. A different kind of worry. A less funny sort of worry. A dreadfully common ailment for my generation and nearly all grownups of these times. It sort of snuck up on me.
            It was a simple enough start. She intruded my room muttering 'Mangas... mangas...' and began scouring my bookshelf. I have all of three, all based of actual novels. All merely holdovers from when I was teaching myself the style. On more of a whim than anything, I handed her A Wrinkle in Time and told her to read that instead. After all, I had read it around her age and I had loved it.
The little socialite outright refused, laughing.
I begged, I coaxed, I gave a vain shot at reverse psychology. This escalates into a scuffle. An actual scuffle between my strong, stubborn insisting she read the book or sit down and let me read to her and her 'I don't like reading, I won't!' attitude. For a considerable longer time than I would normally put toward any physical effort I was making a fool of my scrawny self trying to drag her away from the door. I kid you not. Finally I pulled the wimpy, effortless maneuver called 'Tell Parents to Force Her.' It is a empty win, sometimes hard to correctly enforce, but in the end I was reading it to her and she was listening and for a while I felt I had accomplished something. I didn't quite get the message across... according to her summary she was absorbing about as much as an infant could absorb the entire history of World War Two. After I let my disapproval be known she said many similar things that were denied to Mom two seconds later. "I don't have an imagination." "I have an imagination, but don't use it." and finally "I have an imagination, but don't want to use it now..." It's always an unsettlingly funny thing to watch Rose edit herself as she speaks, pretending the world has a backspace button and we all don't realize what a scarily bone-headed thing she just said. 
I am a reader, and by whatever god there is, my sister will be too. Comics and anime is tolerable enough. Fine in moderation. But they cannot, will not, if I have anything to say, be the contents of her entire literary background, with few exceptions. Sorry, enough ranting, it's nearly midnight.

T.Y.G.E.R.

In Which a Short Paragraph About My Life Turned Into a Long Talk About Books

            Hello everyone! So today I rode in/drove a go-kart, terrified my sister, and got attacked by a number of stowaway spiders. It's a good thing I'm not especially arachnaphobic. Or afraid of fast things. Rose apparently is. Really should have seen that coming. Maybe it was just the fact that it was me in the driver's seat. I thought I was quite good. I definitely had fun. 
God, I really shouldn't just leave in the middle of these things. It shouldn't take a span of hours to write a few paragraphs.
Dad said I could go to the library tomorrow. I haven't really been back there in a long time, mostly because it always seems to close so soon or not quite have what I want for reasons of pfft... who knows? And I can always just go to the BIG bookstore in Ashley Park and just read a bunch of books while there. If it wasn't about as organized or as constant as the YouTube web layout.
            And honestly the 'teen' books that are oh-so-popular are really starting to bore me. Futuristic dystopia with a convoluted plot that will make you feel smart for reading, you'll stop understanding it after Chapter Five, but you'll feel clever for trying. Then Romances. Then the kinda generic cop-shows-in-literature form. Honestly, I like books to trick you into reading a genre that you thought you hated, like me with 13 Little Blue Envelopes. Not really fond of romances. Read this without realizing it was categorized as a romance. Loved it much. Saw the little sticker label the school librarians put on a few of the books, and was surprised. It didn't shove the whole 'love' thing down your throat and was geniuenly cute and odd. I liked it. I don't wan't to look at the description of a book and go 'I think I've read this somewhere before...' I want to go 'this looks fascinating, I'll take a look at it.' Books that don't seem to intend to be anything, like a science-fiction or a grownup thing or even occasionally a very light-hearted childish thing. Books that just seems to grow into a theme or an idea or a moral as you read it. Ones you don't start knowing just what to expect.
            When I was a kid I decided to pick a book at random that had nothing but an old, faded black hardcover with it's title written in thin, worn gold script exactly twice. I chose that one because it looked mysterious, like it just might come to life. I read it and thought it was great. I have never read it or anything really similar since. God, I didn't even know who the author was. For me this was a time before books were written by people, they were just there and appeared as naturally as I guess... dandelions. Everywhere, always, and flowers even if most people didn't always think so. (This was also before Twilight etc. had come out, so I didn't even know you could have a book that the majority of the people I met strongly disliked.) Also like dandelions, I enjoyed them immensely. Seriously, who has not picked a bouquet of the things at least once in their childhood. Ah, nostalgia. I wasn't even aware that comparison would work out so well. Huh. 
            You'd think reading is something you just never lose, but it kinda is something you can... fall out of without realizing it. This, I have found, is incredibly dangerous. Especially if you want to write. One doesn't do well without the other. I kind of need to fall back into it. Scratch that, I really need to fall back into it. I want to. But your tastes change as you grow, and you get picky to the point where the school library, though it has plenty of dark almost-grownup things as well as cutesy romantic things and every. Teenage. Vampire novel. In existence. Finding something odd that balances humor with wit and something you don't really get from things like the Maze Runner Series which was a good start but just plain lost me after half of book two. I'm sure there's a way to be confusing and entertaining at the same time, but there comes a point when you want something explained. Even if it's not true, you can be surprised later.
Ha, I talk like I know what I'm on about (I probably don't.), and I could probably go on for a while. Bottom line is I want something odd, different, and a tiny bit funny, if it can. My favorite book since the third grade or so Last of the Really Great Wangdoodles has remained my favorite because it is so dang odd and pretty much unknown (but the author's not, it's the lady who played Mary Poppins, Julie Andrews.) And it's lovely and something just a little like Alice in Wonderland and A Wrinkle in Time. 
Wow... it's really late. And I'm hungry. Goodnight, I guess. There's another rant for you.

T.Y.G.E.R.

So Yahoo Hates Me...

            I'm too tired to think today. I got zero sleep and I just want to to lay in bed for the whole dang day, but dragged myself out of it just because the fact that I still have to do this was bugging me. I also have a slight headache.
So now that I've brought my grumpy to my blog, I am going to try and think of something else to do besides wonder why my brain thought it should wake itself up at four in the morning and refuse to go back to sleep.
.....
...........................
Nah, I'm just putting 40% of my effort into not face-planting into the keyboard.
WAKE UP ME!
Alright I'm a bit more awake.
I can no longer sign in to Yahoo. They have made it impossible. Do they realize that I DON'T FLIPPING KNOW THE ANSWER TO MY SECURITY QUESTIONS TWO YEARS LATER! And apparently they no longer recognize this device...
And they want to buy Tumblr?
They can't even make their own dang stuff decent. To this day, there is nothing but my name on my 'Yahoo profile,' and I don't know how to change that. I still get my horoscope...
It says to check my email.
... No really, that's the thing... I have too many messages and gotta go through them because blah blah it's messing with my energy blah blah it will make your chi happy.
What a bunch of twats.
It's horrible, because that's my email for everything. The one I just automatically list. And they're acting like flipping retards. I NEED that for something! Yahoo actually has a single purpose for me and it can't even do that. Idiots.
And all this is to prevent someone from hacking into my account. They won't even let me access through Facebook, which I'm on, it's just plain logging in again. Why?! You ask before you pile crap precautions on people, or at least warn them. It's just being polite. 
Wow, you'd be surprised how fast you wake up when you have something to be angry at.
I suppose all forms of social media are stupid in their own special way. But this is just too extreme. Make your stuff less crappy, Yahoo. Or at least let me access my account.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Dave the Amphibious Dragon and Huge Scary Spiders

            Can you believe I very nearly forgot to to do this? Of course you can. This is me we're talking about. Anyway, I 'found' a spider the size of a small rodent clinging to my wall, and by found I mean it magically appeared there and caused me a large amount of concern, but I got my dad to come kill it dead. That was probably the most exciting thing that's happened in a month. God, where would that thing live?Ah well, one does not concern themselves with where giant spiders come from if one wishes to feel safe in their own home. Maybe the dragon in the crawl space let him in... 
            Yeah, a dragon (or Amphiblagon as he prefers to be called, because he's more newt-like than lizard-like) lives in the icky muddy wet crawl space that keeps gathering water. His name is Davintalolibiam, but you can call him Dave. He's buddies with a flying goblin named Henry and various slimy creatures who also reside beneath the house, all of whom I hate. The dude doesn't like me. Not that fond of Violet either. He would like to just chomp me to bits, if I wasn't so dang bony. Dave doesn't venture out of his livin' quarters that often, and only reason I know about him because I used to try and mount expeditions under there when I was but a small child and had a flashlight and my parents weren't looking at the same time. Scared the bajezus out of me first time 'round. He's got weird mostly see-though-ish white eyes with a bit of glowy light blue and snaky slit pupils, his skin isn't so much scaly as sort of smooth and it's sort of like holding a snake... but he's about the size of my room all curled up, and about as long as the house with his huge, ginormous tail. He's got four legs and sharp silver claws and webbed hands and kinda webbed arms. Oh, and he's got catfish whiskers on his face, but don't laugh at them or the next thing you'll see is his SUPER big, sharp teeth. He's real hard to see in the dark because he's all gray and black. It's natural camouflage. Most Amphiblagons live in caves. He mostly lives off leeches and algae, and mice when he can, but let's just say a wide range of things are edible to him and that's why you don't stick around down there long. Yeah, he would be the type to sic tarantula assassins on me. He should be more careful lest I throw a big bag of salt down there with him!
"I heard that!"
You were meant to! Amphiblagons deal with salt about as well as slugs. Henry (the flying goblin) and I get along, which is why we don't often interact with each other, but if he sends in more large hairy spiders I am entitled to retaliate, understand? 
"... Fine."
No more spiders, then?
"No more spiders."
Promise?
"... Grr... I promise."
Thank you muchly! Ahem... now that that's settled... Dave everyone! He's such a nice gentle-newt, aren't you glad you met him? My parents haven't, though. So shhh... He likes to stay the frick away from them. So, until tomorrow...

T.Y.G.E.R.

Progress!

Chapter five of The Lost Rabbit is finally done!
Signed, sealed, and delivered in the dead of night!
I should really force myself to sit down and work on my goddang stories more often. Though probably not until two in the morning.Ah well, I seem to get the most motivation long after anyone sane would have gone to bed. Sometimes it's decent, sometimes I look back and cringe at how horrible it actually is when my mind is as awake as my body. This was not one of those times I feel. 
            My last post was obviously the most boring thing on the planet. Everyone has their off days. But now, as I open Facebook just to see if it works I suddenly am bombarded by exactly how many people I've friended that I can't quite recall where I know them from, but if I just go unfriending EVERYONE I don't care about I'm offending people. I like how when I first got a Facebook account in sixth grade all the people in my little charter school sent me friend requests and to this day I have not messaged or interacted with in any way. And getting posts from stuff I clicked 'like' on just irritates me. I expressed a vague, meaningless opinion on something. I do not want it showing up in my face again. And I have pretty much vowed to never play another Facebook game that requires me to return daily. So there are specific reasons I don't check in often, but if I get really, really specific I'm just going to go on and on and it's going to get really personal. Let's stop here. I have to go. Until tomorrow,

T.Y.G.E.R.

Stat!

             I wanted to rant about this yesterday when I ran into it again. I like seeing that people look at my stuff. I like checking the statistics and find out where my views are coming from. So when I see 'vampirestat.com' come up with three slightly different URLs a bazillion times each, I click on one out of pure  curiosity. This was a mistake, as I was informed of after googling it.
Note to self: Look up websites instead of just clicking them.
As far as I can see, if you give it attention, it comes back a bunch more. Wonderful. Just fantastic.
            Let me spell this out for everyone once and for all, because I feel like I've said this a lot. I just want to be read. By people. I want to know someone-I don't care (I slightly care, 'cause y'know. Crazies.) who-has come across my stuff and either like or doesn't like it or is just 'meh'. I'm not really advertising any sort of product I'm just shoving something out into the open and saying 'now go look at it'. I also would like it if it was easier to find other people's stuff. I don't want any crap thrown at me from out of nowhere.
         All that aside, I am really no longer in a ranty sort of mood. I am a pretty calm person, as opposed to my sister's 'YOU BREATHED WHILE I AM ANGRY NOW YOU MUST DIE!!!' attitude. This is only made worse by her new-found interest in anime, which has thrown her into an emotional tizzy that we in the rest of the family really don't need. And she now has started calling me 'Grell' when I annoy her, which seems to be always. This same anime might also be behind her recently acquired tea habit. And don't get me started on her Hetalia thing. I never really went through an anime phase. It was more of a 'I want to learn how to draw anime because their style is semi-realistic yet still doable.' thing than anything. Couldn't stand the animated stuff (It's something about the voices and the voice acting.) and would get bored with the mangas. I actually surprise her friends when I recognize characters (I'm not totally ignorant, I come across tidbits on the internet.) but the simple difference is that I know of them, not that I actually watch the show. 
At least Doctor Who sort of bridges the culture gap.
         Tumblr sort of bugs me. I have this second blog for it that I barely do anything with. I started out with the impression that I could post stuff and tried to do like my cousin and reblog cool artsy stuff, but I just sort of lapsed into this sort of mind-numbed silence occasionally punctuated by a 'Link to My 'Real' Blog!' That gets buried under the massive output of what else I've followed. Everybody drowns everybody out with pictures or a small burst of text or GIFs. And that's the particular bin most of my day goes to.
Gosh, I just go on and on during these. This was just supposed to be one or two paragraphs.

T.Y.G.E.R.

I Can See the End!

            We are slooooooowly inching our way to the end of the school year. Honestly, it should've ended last week, but nooo. Four weeks and two. Goddang. Days. Until. Freeeeeedom. And then I can spend days without counting up until friday. And then the horrible gnawing sense of despair haunting all of Sunday. Yep. Dread, resignation, determination, elation, contentment. And Saturday I have to go to a school event for a grade. And I found out my parents have to pay to get in. I understand this. I dislike it. But I understand.
            So thanks to weather our internet signal is being a twat. And I haven't got enough willpower to put up with a petulant Youtube. I don't think anybody does really. When it decides it doesn't want to work, it's not going to work. Spotify is cutting out every five seconds, and this sort of thing makes me a really annoying person. 
            Okay. I'm done ranting. You've probably all left by now. Bye, those people... hmm. Soooo... yeah. Oooh! Today on that ten-minute news thing our Civics teacher shows us there was a bit: Apparently you can sign up to get sent over to Mars in '22. BUT YOU CAN NEVER COME BACK.
Us Doctor Who fans know that can't turn out well.
Sorry, but Waters of Mars has cemented my decision to not move to a new planet. Thanks. G'Bye, bye!
But I'll be 23 when they get sent off, how flippin' cool is that?!
             Now I have started a new paragraph under the assumption I still have things to say. I want to blab about my new characters. But I sorta need to draw you people a picture. Literally. It's just easier than taking a jab at a describing what now is actually pretty vague. All the other times I've explained I had my journal to point at and say 'This is who this is.' and 'Ignore my caricature of the 11th Doctor, I was practicing drawing profiles.' Among other things. I'll get back to this when the internet's better.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad

Look at my blog, I said.
I posted some new things, I said.
Make comments, I (think I) said.
...
Why do I let my parents on my blog again?
How about I write my thoughts on the subject in a fairly entertaining way?
{The green italics are the little reasonable voice in my head.}
[The red bold font is the annoying, bratty emotions.]
(This normal font is me.)
Basically it's viewing my reason and impulse and myself as three separate people. I actually think this will be kind of fun, hypothesising how different aspects of myself would interact...
*            *            *
A: It's polite, you can't just tell him to leave you alone forever. B: You like having feedback. ANY FEEDBACK. And C: Remember that time you deleted his comment because you didn't like it? Remember how guilty you were? Remember how hurt he was?
Oh, shut up. He's always tries to be funny and it's just NOT, okay--
Haven't we established that your-our-my sense of humor {if we-me-you have one at all} and his are very different, and it's a free country. You-we-me need to just deal with it.
Um, I think I'm being forgotten in all of this.
What the heck is with the multiple pronouns?!
Technically, you and I and her are the same person, therefore my opinion is you all's and vice-versa.
No it isn't.
I actually agree with--let's refer to you as Emotions for all intents and purposes--Emotion here. We wouldn't be having this 'conversation' here if we all agreed. You (Reason) and Emotion are separate trains of thought I'm trying to sort out. We are pretty much one person (and in all other circumstances you don't exist and probably won't again when I finish this.)(I'd go crazy if this was how I solved everything.) you are right at that. But we obviously don't share opinions.
That's kinda depressing. [About not existing.]
Technically, we don't exist now. We're a dramatization of her slight confliction with letting her Dad comment.
Oh, shut up with your Technicallies.
Technicalities.
Arrrgh... You and I are not going to get along at all.
I don't see what the argument is. He means well, and you-us like knowing he likes what you do.
Even if he is a bit weird. Face it, we're kind of boring.
Downright dull.
Yeeeaaaaaah...
Maybe it's a bit like stealing your thunder.
That's it. Oi! Someone give me a metaphorical large blunt object. Anything at all. I'm not picky.
Oh god, my inner Rosie...
I don't think you should be making her angry at YOU.
Screw it! I gots CLAWZ!
I think it would be kind of fun to write how this all plays out...
YOU. ARE. HORRIBLE!

Don't Worry, Only a Fraction of This is Actually About School

I hate school.
So, so much.
....................

So!
            On a different note, the week off school equals more writing! Hopefully... If I don't dedicate the vacation from simply recovering from school. That would be terrible. Well, anyway:
           You guys know about my story The Lost Rabbit? {Here}It mentions Bunny, my childhood toy. Now, I'm a bit of a curious person, so I see this thing called 'Overgrowth' on YouTube, and I click on it. Just because I've seen it before and I wondered what it was about. As it turns out, it's a 'sandbox' game or something. And the character is a bunny. 
Do you see where I'm going with this?
Yeah, it was a brown bunny. Okay, so, I watch this and I'm thinking 'Okay, this is a bit gory and gross, but kinda interesting. Not really my thing, I don't think...' And I'm watching the guy occasionally fail and listen to him babble and maybe laugh at him a little bit. (It was late, I wanted something funny to keep me awake, so I clicked on a Let's Play. Nothing could really annoy me at that point.) And then all of a sudden my brain goes "Hey, this looks like an American McGee's version of your Bunny." And won't shut up about it. So I just disturbed myself. Ever done that? Y'Know, thought something you could live your whole life without ever considering, and quite happily, too, but you thought it and it changes your point of view forever.
That's what I happened.
At least, at like, five minutes to midnight and still watching the video it seemed that way. At the time.
            Yeah. So brace yourselves. A whole week of me off school.
I'm going to be posting A LOT of stuff.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Coraline, Doctor Who, and Fairies made of Plastic Flowers

            I'm baa-ack! Hello again, unseen audience of random people! Darn you, school, you suck out all my energy I could put towards doing cool things. Like writing. And learning how to draw better. And making little flower fairies. Yeah, that was fun. That's totally how I'm going to spend the weekend!
...
What the heck is wrong with me?
Jeez...
            So anywho... my life is ennui. (ohn-wee) That's one of our vocabulary words, it means boring in french. Which means I need to get my imagining muscles flexed and working, high school has made them go all stiff. Thinking... Thinking...
I need to learn how to laugh in a foreign accent.
The book Coraline is brilliant. Just saying. Her mom's all 'Where did you go we're supposed to be shopping!' And Coraline goes 'I was kidnapped by aliens but wore a disguise and talked funny and got away.' Like my dad. I asked him what Doctor Who was about once. He told me it was about these clones (Doctor Who, When, Where, What, and How.) And he had the comic around somewhere. This sounded amazing and I asked him 'What about Doctor Why?' He said questions like that made him run away. He then told me about him and a friend walking down from the... Colorado Mountains, I think, and coming back to find Doctor What in his blue lab coat and a disassembled electric guitar (not his, so no worries) and a blender. Or something. Can't really quote it verbatim. So I couldn't wait to find out more. Sadly, the comic was something I had already read and was nothing like what he described. Neither was Doctor Who. I still like it, but Dad's version sounded more exciting. I think I'm going to write a story about those Doctors. That would be fun. I could connect it to A Wrinkle in Time and... 
Stuff.
            Rant ended. I think I might post my story The Lost Rabbit on Wattpad. I'm going to do that now.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Allergies/My Amazing Ability To Go Off Topic Once Again

            Stupid allergies. I feel like crap in the morning and get better before I can get out of school. Then I come home and my body's like: "Oh, let's make her feel miserable when she can't benefit from it!" This is what I get for going outside. Which is ironic because:
My childhood:
Outside: (Grabs red beret, brown exploring jacket, and frog jump rope while humming the Indiana Jones theme song.) "Allergies? Nope, never had 'em, never will. Wanna play treasure hunters?"
Inside: (Ballerina outfit. Tiara worn upside down because I was being a princess superhero. Spinning for no apparent reason.) "What is this 'motion sickness' you speak of?"
School: (Actually TALKING TO PEOPLE!!! *gasp* Wearing random dress I like because I have it and if I don't wear it than what's the point?) "I'm making a newspaper, want to help?"
If I saw three or more crayola markers in one setting, I had to stick them together and wave them around.
I read the Landry News by Andrew Clements and made my own newspaper with my friends.
I cried when I waited all day for recess to pass them out and they took them away while I was gone.
I was dang weird.
I realized people expected me to be different when I went to sixth grade. I learned how to play the trumpet and went to honor band. They gave us a short break to get some exercise or something, the area was a grassy hill. I remember wandering down a ways and sitting down thinking: What the heck are we supposed to do? After awhile I accidentally tumbled down the hill. And accidentally did it over and over again on purpose until somebody acknowledged my weirdness and hurt my feelings a bit. I then spent the next to years of my life working out the difference between being a kid and being a kid that is supposed to go a school day without recess.
Me now:
Outside: Nope.
Inside: I'm going to work on my stories. No YouTube, go away. Aw, what the heck.
(Hours later) Starting to write. "Get off the computer." Mom! I'm writing! "Now."
(Get's off)
Has inspiration.
Darn it.
School:So...much...shyness...cannot...even.
I hate it when the class ends and you haven't finished doodling.
I worry about making the facial expressions I make in my daydream when I'm spacing out.
I think I was more fashionable when I was six than I am now.
            So, I go off on another tangent about my life. But this time it was actually vaguely connected to my previous topic. Progress!

T.Y.G.E.R.