Don't You Hate it When...

            Yesterday I got onto one of those fun trains of thought that leave you kinda stabbed in the chest with your own words. Somehow my observation that I get a lot of spam turned into 'I get about five real pageviews when I subtract it' and then 'I need to promote myself more' to 'I care too much about what people think' to finally 'I am not good and there's no point and blah blah blah I'm sorry.' I'm one of THOSE people. The ones that will listen to their friends rant for hours on end about boyfriend this and parents that because we don't know what else to do. (I'm assuming I'm not the only one. Seven billion goddang people here now and at least one's gotta be a little similar...) The ones that just don't gel with people properly and won't remember the name of a kid sitting halfway across the classroom and probably never will. I don't go nuts when given a little bit anonymity. I'm still timid, mostly silent, and more than a little invisible. I watch. Just joining in is something I've nearly forgotten how to do.
God the melancholy is strong with this one.
Maybe that's not that much of a bad thing.
But let's try for something else besides depressing all the same.
           I've decided to write a story based on what I thought Doctor Who was when I first heard of it, and I'm going to post it. Writing the first bit now. G'Bye.

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.

A Severe Lack of Focus Here

            Hello... I very nearly skipped today but have decided to go on because... I'm stubborn. Not all the time, but I said I was going to write something every single goddang day and I'm not going to break the routine all of six days later because (once again) I have no idea what's going to be in this thing until I'm done. I have a habit of forgetting I have a draft folder. And there are things in it. Not things worth posting, mind you, but just exit out of the Make a New Post thing it stores what it last autosaved there if you don't publish it. Most of my drafts were just blank. One had a single sentence. That was about it.
            I'm trying to be productive, I really am. Why is it so hard? Okay, this is going to be a reeeeaaally short one. I'll end this here. 

T.Y.G.E.R.

Wattpad Stuff, Ahoy!

            Rosie got her hair cut short last night because Mom discovered lice eggs or something in her hair, my aunt and uncle now have two of the most adorable puppies, and I'm going to show you a bit from that short story series I wanted to do and haven't touched in a while because I'm not sure how I like how it's going.
Here ya go!

            A blue Cinderella dress, all lace and frills hung on the door, untouched since the Halloween of age nine. The window was framed with translucent gray curtains and faded floral wallpaper. An absurd amount of teddies over-populated the bed and closet and childish etchings were pinned to the walls, gradually falling to the floor. The carpet was stained with paint and discolored due to years of continuous abuse. A sticker-covered stereo buzzed quietly at the very lowest volume that was still audible. A light-peg-design toy sported a half-finished outline of either a hippo with yellow legs or a crude depiction of a car. Propped up behind it was a cardboard sign advertising lemonade for 25 cents, a relic of a failed burst of entrepreneurship and an experiment with an old cliché that didn't apparently work. An old game of Monopoly was set up in the corner, the playing pieces replaced with bottle caps because everyone spent so much time arguing over the car that it just saved time to decide between flavors and brands. Other odds and ends scattered the ground, begging to be tripped over by the woman perched on the dusty pink bed sheets, frowning in pure boredom and scheduling the flight back to her apartment on her phone while doing the math in her head the absolute minimum time she needs to spend with her family before she has to get back to her ‘life.’ The window looked out into the snowy winter outside, and you could just hear the snow hitting the glass. The lady in the sensible brown sweater and black skirt didn't, nor did she recognize Persistence of Memory, which was her favorite song until it wasn't anymore, gradually getting louder.

I will also post Persistence of Memory to Wattpad... now.

{Ta-da!}

I post a lot of poetry to Wattpad... It's weird because I'm not a poetry sort of person. But it's quick to write and finish and doesn't stay out in the land of procrastination for eons at a time. And I finally got around to changing the cover of A Rant About Sonnets because the text on it was bugging me. I really wish the Make Your Own Cover thing Wattpad added didn't require you to scribble the title on it. All the little thumbnails my stories have are just a pretty picture. No writing. Nothing fancy. That's the way it's always been and that is the rule. My rule at least. It's a pity, because Wattpad's M.Y.O.C. thing has a lot of good pictures to choose from....

            Speaking of pictures, I pretty much changed all of my profile pictures to the little In the Margins Me drawing I did, which is more accurate than that Phoenix-y thing I had before. I might do another one to update it, since my hair's longer and my green hoodie's gotten too old and worn out to wear. In fact, I did. But last I checked the scanner was not working/plugged in/any good. So that's not going to be seen any time soon. Sigh.

So there's today's blog in all it's ramble-y unplanned-ness. See you all tomorrow.

T.Y.G.E.R.

Just Checking In

            I don't have much to write about today, besides the fact we're visiting my Aunt Becky's house for Uncle Andy's birthday. Which pretty much means I'll be ending up swimming and being off my face tired when I get back, so I might as well get this out of the way now.
            My birthday is in twelve days, and I'll be fifteen. I guess that's something. I can start learning to drive and... what else can fifteen-year-olds do? Be older, I guess. Feel a bit more teenager-y.
Gosh, I have absolutely nothing to wr-
Oh yeah.
Oz.
            We went to see it yesterday. I know it's been out awhile and I was all 'meh' about it at the time. I don't get worked up about that stuff. But I thought Oz was brilliant. It had places I recognized from the original movie with Dorthy, Tinman, etc, and it kept the whole black and white to color thing. Ugly Evanora scared the crap out of me (and she wasn't all that attractive to begin with anyway.) And it explained how the Wicked Witch of the West and her sister came into the story and why exactly Oz had to go through such efforts with the smoke-and-mirrors display. And it may or may not have had an appearance of the Cowardly Lion. And I was reminded of Return to Oz, an old movie I can't for the life me remember what happened after Dorthy (who was actually closer to the age she is in the books, which is why I remember preferring it over its predecessor.) got into Oz. I'll watch it again later. God, I haven't seen that movie in a bazillion years...
So that's my opinion on that.
             So here's a post that actually isn't really, really long. I might add something to it if I feel up to it when I get back. But probably not. Goodbye for now,

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.

And We're Off!

            And so daily blogging begins! I think 99% of this is going to be tangents and fiction, because I can't think of anything worth mentioning that happened during the last thirteen hours, not even during the time I was asleep. I should start keeping a dream journal again. I tried that for two days, got bored and forgot about it. Ah well.
How about a preview of the next chapter of Lost Rabbit? I kind of ended abruptly there I think. 

                Hawking’s wasn't the messenger for the domains because he was slow. Always moving, fidgeting, as tall as the Page and thin as a twig with huge brown wings and a smile that could be just as big (often wasn't, but he tried.), one wouldn't guess right off the that shorter, calmer, stoic green-eyed blonde two steps behind him was his teenaged niece. Angel had a twin, Gemini, who was in nearly every way her opposite. Emotional, short black hair, no wings.

Their mother had been from Silver Glen, after all.

The two fourteen-year-olds stared at each other. Hawkings had bustled in, made introductions and left. The grounder held up her pet. “This is Copper.” Copper made a doggy smile. “Hey.” Angel jumped. A stuffed animal? Looking at him closely she could tell he was indeed an undiscarded toy. He must’ve followed her, being unable to stop her from tumbling into the Library. You couldn't ask for a better companion for an unexpected first trip. “Hello. So you've met Ink, Page, and my uncle Hawkings… and I assume you want to get out and see the rest of the world.” I’m not a tour guide, dangit! Angel thought. She decided the empty Blue Manor would be a start. The place was possibly built for her, as Bunny had said. She couldn't just let ‘Tyger’ parade around in pajamas. Lily picked her way through the woods carefully and quickly.

As she could. Which was abysmal compared to Angel.

                “Hurry up!” Lily made a noise of helpless frustration. “I can’t help it, I don’t have wings! Or shoes! And I’m carrying a dog!” She paused. “Copper, why am I carrying you?”

“My feet hurt.” She stopped. “What?” She dropped him. “Yeeep!”

“So do mine. If anything, you should be carrying me.” She looked upward toward Angel. “How far are we?” Copper barked. “Ooh! Angel! Will you carry me?”

“No.” She snapped. “It’s not much farther; I almost can see it from here.” She placated. “Hurry now!”

Lily stumbled over a protruding root and yelped. “….Trying…!”

And that's as far as I've gotten. I've set myself up with a looong chapter that I might split into two or three or four to get them out faster. Yeah, that's definitely going to happen. And say hello to Angel and Hawkings! They were first characters Vivia Drea had, though they weren't always relatives. (Originally Hawkings was also my age, and Angel was just sort of there.) You'll meet Ange a lot. She's the youngest Advisor in a millennium and helps Rainy with work a lot, since she's been on a bit longer. This will probably be explained better as the story goes on.

            On another note, this story falls under a new category I made called Stuff I'm Really Not Focused On at the Moment (But Should Be) and might soon leave it because I looked it over and fell in love with the idea again. Since I brought it up, I'm going to explain how I organize my many, many little stories that get starved for attention or just outright crash (See every Word Doodle I've ever written ever.).

• You've got the folder full of a story that's existed since I was in kindergarten and will forever be something I only do for fun.
• You've got all the other crap that aren't my stories (My music, pictures, etc.) crammed in one.
• Scraps. Self explanatory.
• S.I.R.N.F.O.M. (B.S.B.) Also pretty self explanatory.
• And Word Doodles. Or Woodles, as I like to call them. Not one Word Doodle as ever been finished. A few have gone T.C.I.D. (Stands for This Crap Is Dead. For stories I can't even remember or determine the plot of.) Most have been deleted from my actual laptop, but live on in my nifty USB drive. One has even ended up branching out into two drastically different storylines. They are all generally ignored. So far I have 12.
• And floating around right where I can see them are the ones that are right on my brain, so I can get to them the fastest. I only allow about five in that spot at once.

This method was started because I have a My Documents icon thing right on my toolbar, and all my stuff comes up in nice alphabetized list. That same list grew HUGE and hard to look through, so I condensed it. My My Documents folder is probably the only neatly arranged thing I have in my life 24/7. It's almost funny.

That's today's post done. Until tomorrow,

T.Y.G.E.R.