A very existential mini-blog

I never blog. I miss blogging. I should blog more.

NaNoCrazy, Lancing, Whedon does Shakespeare

Part One: WANT. NOW.

Simon from Firefly. (Sean Maher)
Amy Acker.
Alexis Denisof.
In my favorite Shakespeare play.
That's just . . . .:melt:

Part Two: Please come to my funeral.

The Editors-in-Chief of The Lance (my school paper) are about to kill me because they feel that I haven't been trying as hard as I could in Newspaper. I am, but they don't think so.

In their defense, I admit that my work has basically been crap for the past two issues, but that is because I am stretched to my limits in everything I do and do not have the time nor the inclination to work harder on Newspaper than anything else. Writing for the paper was my favorite class last year, and I was good at it, and because I don't care enough to put The Lance above everything else this year The Editors and rather angry with me.

After being bitched out by them TWICE yesterday, being ignored at late night, and being followed to band for the sole purpose of being bitched out, I have decided to quit Newspaper next semester. The Editors will probably be happy that I will no longer be around to burst the bubble of perfect they want for the paper. But Howe, our adviser, is probably going to take offense with it.

Also, if The Editors do end up killing me, please come to my funeral. If I end up killing them, please come to my sentencing trial.

Part Three: I only have three days. 

Three days until NaNoWriMo 2011 begins. NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month and (in short) it entails writing a 50,000-word original novel between 12:00:01 on Tuesday November first and 11:59:59 on Nov 30th. Basically, its the greatest writing experience of my life. I won last year and am really excited to write again this year, even though there is a ton of crap going on in my life.

The kick-off party with Omaha Writers' League is tomorrow night. I have never gone before but I have wrangled a few friends into coming along so I won't feel as awkward. Maybe then I'll feel less like a creepy internet stalker when I actually meet them. (Then again, that same theory didn't apply to Lincoln Tumblr Sam, so I don't have much hope.)

The first question Non-Wrimos always ask when I mention NaNo is "what's your story about?" I never want to tell them because [a] my NaNoNovel never gets any more planning than a one sentence synopsis (maybe) and characters names; and [b] because I feel if I tell 500 people my plot before I actually write anything, then by the time I actually start writing I no longer have faith in it. So, no you will not get to know anything about NaNo besides the title and MC's name. You should be more than happy with that because that's about 75% of the planning I have done.

Official countdown is 3 days, 13 hours.

Wish me luck!

Sami

P.S. Have you ever attempted NaNo? I challenge you to try this year, even if your goal is only 5,000 words for the month (that's only 167 words/day), it's better than nothing.

Extra P.S. My MC's name is Katia.

Why I've disappeared off of the internet

So the two followers (hi! I love you) of my blog as well as the one person who I know has an RSS feed of the posts (hey Tony) have probably noticed that I have disappeared for about the last month. There is a really long answer to why this is but if I were to write a detailed explanation about that, well, it would no longer be a blog post, it would be a memoir.

The short (and slightly disingenuous) answer is that I have been really busy with school.

I have been out of school since Thursday due to parent-teacher conferences and it was a lovely four days of relaxation and solitude. Unfortunately, I have to return to school and all of its probably tomorrow and I'm not looking forward to it. With any luck, tomorrow will be the day that my sanity completely breaks and I get sent home. (Which, you know, would technically be a negative thing, but, for me, insanity is more calming that school.)

In sincerity, this blog post does not serve a purpose, but I felt a little bad for vanishing for so long and wanted to post something. I solemnly swear to post a proper pre-NaNo post by the by the end of the week.

Until then my lovelies,
Sam

---
I am loathe to admit that I have not done any serious planning for my NaNoNovel this year. All that I am going to go off of is my working title. Which is (clichéd drumroll please) . . . . . . . .


LETTERS FROM A TEENAGE INSOMNIAC

It's going to be realistic fiction I think, which is not my usual genre, so we'll see how it goes.
Only 8 days and a little under 4 hours until the craziness begins!!!!!

A very off day

What happened yesterday:

I am apparently really, really bad about noticing things in my surroundings.

When I got to school this morning, I ran into my ginger friend Hannah (I have at least five friends named Hannah so I have to refer to them by hair color or personality characteristic.) She was going to meet her parents to practice the skits we have to present in Spanish tomorrow. I started complaining (admittedly, loudly) about my crap partners and how they haven't done any work.

Later that day Kate (who I talk more about later) told me -- tweeted @me actually -- that Eli (one of the partners I have been complaining about) had heard me complaining about him.

A positive start to the day.

Later on, my guidance (aka my stalker) counselor came into our homeroom. She talked with whomever she needed to talk to or whatever and then left. My friend/bandmate Kate is in my homeroom so after checking that Henson had left to go to another homeroom I began explaining to Kate about how Henson's tiptoeing around me because I'm mentally unstable or whatever.

Somehow the conversation segued to me complaining (and generally being bitter) about how I wasn't allowed to to take AP Lit because I was still technically a junior in the eyes of the Lit Department. That pisses me off because I know that they let at least one junior (I know for sure) that they let take APLit last year. I continued on with my much thought on, prepared rant over the one person per graduating class that the school will let take any class they want.


So there I was, just ranting away. Kate and Megan, my physics partner from last year who was also there, were listening to me rant. It was a beautiful disaster.

Then from over on the far side of our homeroom: "Wow, Sam's really worked up about this." Mrs. Henson. She had never actually left our homeroom. Fantastic.

Luckily homeroom ended shortly after that so there wasn't anymore time for me to bad talk people in front on their faces.

Right after homeroom ended, though, Kate spent a good three minutes laughing at me.

I'm not looking forward to that meeting I have with Mrs. Henson tomorrow. I can't see it going well.

Mac vs PC

The Great Debate:

Who Shall Win and Who Shall Be Eaten By Dragons?

I have used both PC/Windows and Mac/Apple throughout my entire life. As I start planning for college and the need to buy a laptop, I thought I would use my greatly neglected blog to present each side of this long lasting argument in a fairly unbiased way.

Let's begin. . . 

Apple

The Story

   My school district is an Apple Distinguished Institution which is basically just a fancy way of saying that Apple sponsors us and gives us lots of its products. Every student in grades 8 through 12 is given a personal MacBook to use during the school year. Elementary schools and the seventh graders have more than enough computers to go around as well. Several departments in the high school have recently gotten several iPads and iPad 2s in the last two years.

   Having grown up in a Mac-Obsessed school district I am proficient as using Apple computers and programs.

The Pros

• More user friendly (though with all of my Windows experience 'user-friendly' isn't necessarily a requirement)
• There are some programs I really like that are Apple specific.
• Fewer viruses

The Cons

• Not Windows
• Sometime perceived as pretentious. I am in no way a pretentious person.
• I do not know all the tech secrets for Macs. I know basic troubleshooting that I have picked up but still have to bother tech support for anything more than Force Quit and Reboots.
• More expensive than many PCs
• I have had my Apple comps crash way more than my PCs

PC

The Story

   I grew up using PCs. My older brother is a Computer Programming and IT major in college and my dad's one and only hobby is Computers. I am more familiar with troubleshooting and support for PCs because I have gathered slightly-higher-than-common-knowledge troubleshooting throughout the years from my brother and father.

   Having being raised in a PC enthralled household, I am highly proficient in all things PC and Windows.

The Pros

• I feel that I know more about PCs even with all of my Apple experience.
• Less expensive
• Has the most up-to-date version of Word, PPT, Excel, etc that come with the computer when I purchase it
• Fewer crashes, easier to create back-up drives/disks (that I know of)

The Cons

• Not Apple
• More viruses
• It seems as if, moving into the future, many people are switching to Macs. This is not necessarily a con for PC necessarily but if I spend several hundred of my very small college fund on a brand new PC I want to make sure that I will not be behind technologically when I entire the career field.
• Some of my very favorite programs are not available for Windows OR there are not as advanced versions of said programs for Windows (i.e. Final Cut, Scrivener)
• One of the colleges I am seriously considering requires a MacBook Pro for all students in my prospective major

Conclusion

Despite everything that I have listed here (and other things that I have thought in my head but were too complicated to include on this blog) I still have not been able to come to a concise choice. When it comes to actually buying my laptop next year, more than a little will depend on cost and whether or not I'm accepted to the program and college that requires Apple products.

So, neither PC nor Mac wins. I feed Mark Zuckerberg to the dragons. Problem solved (until next year that is.)

I have captured the bunnies!

Specifically speaking, I have captured my plot bunnies for this years NaNoWriMo (which starts in 57 days!!).

I was originally planning to write the sequel to my 2010 NaNoNovel but after careful discussion my my brother I have thus decided to completely write my NaNoNovel 2011 using a compilation of four random generators:

One for genre

One for setting, plot, characterization device, hero, villain

One for first words

One for title

As an example:

Genre: Renaissance Mutant Action/Adventure

Setting:Ocean Punk

Plot:Rags To Royalty

Narrative Device:Overly Long Gag

Hero:Plucky Girl

Villain:Lesbian Vampire

Character As Device:Stoic Woobie

Characterization Device:Living Forever Is Awesome

First words: There be dragons here. . .

Title: Swiftly Smiling


This isn't what I'm going to use for my NaNoWriMo but you get the idea.


Thankfully, now that I have decided to write NaNo this year I can spend the next 57 days NOT outlining for NaNo and instead do that homework that is due.

Speaking of NaNo have you seen the badge I got for completing last year?

It's pretty. And look! the monkeys!

EXPLOSION

My head is about to explode. And not the good explode. The type of exploding that only comes from stupid people and an insane schedule.

In addition to that, I had my script for TV Production and my stories due for Newspaper. I have had something for Band every single day this week.

But, as much as I would love to spend the next 500 words rambling about how horrible, and horribly busy, my life is. I thought it would be better spent with you looking at this lovely long stretch of blank space.
















































Now. Wasn't that fun?

Seriously, if I had the patience or mental capacity to write an intelligent blog post I would. Instead I'm going to sit here on my parents reclining (and surprisingly comfortable) couch, read, check Twitter, start planning for NaNoWriMo (which requires a completely separate blog post to explain), and hope that my Real Head does not explode.

To sign off I will leave you with a small part of my NaNoNovel from 2010.

   “Trust me Groundling boy we really don’t have the time for me to tell you my life story at the moment. I don’t how close the damn Air agents are and I would really like to not who they are. So that means I have to keep moving. And since you’re the one who volunteered to help me you have to move too.”

    “I didn’t really volunteer…”

    “Semantics. Just go…”

     He glanced back in the direction of the clearing then back at me. “Stay here. I’m going to get some you some money. Don’t run away, otherwise I won’t be able to help you.”

    “Blah, blah, blah. I understand. Just move. Run.”

Explain to me this homecoming thing...

I was sitting in TV today, being unproductive, and eavesdropping on my classmates mundane conversations. And I thought something. (I know, surprising)

Why is everyone so freaked about homecoming?


I mean, I understand the hype (even if I don't participate in it) and the lead up and stuff. But I fail to grasp why it matters if a guy who is in a long-term relationship with a girl still be expected to ask the  girl to homecoming. I mean, honestly? If two people have been in a relationship for 10 months, why can't it be assumed that the two will go to homecoming together?


Maybe, along with everything else stereotypically high school, this expectation just flies over my head. But it really does bug me that a girl in my TV class was so pissed that homecoming is in three weeks and her boyfriend, thus far, has assumed they are going together.


Until later my cookies,
Me


--
And now a random bit that I randomly chose from my Unfinished (and probably never to be) folder

            The moment Caroline stepped from the classroom she was surrounded by four girls.

            “So, new girl, what’s up with you anyway?” One of them asked. She looked vaguely familiar.

            “Leah?”

            “Yeah. I’m Leah.” So she was in Caroline’s homeroom. She’s the one Mrs. Welsh had her sit behind. “And this is Amber, Lacy, and Adrienne.”

            Caroline laughed. “What’s so funny new girl?”

            “You’re initials spell Lala.”

            “What so funny about that?”

            “Nothing. I’m just good at seeing patterns.” She stood there wishing they would move so she could get to Calculus. When they didn’t she figured she would have to say something.  Oh joy. “So…I take it you’re the welcoming committee?”

            They all smirked. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Leah said.

            “Well, thanks. I feel welcomed. You’re blocking my way and I have to get to class,” she moved to walk past them and down the hall but the Lalas stood their ground.

            “You’ll be fine. It’s your first day so no one will care if you’re late,” the one named Adrienne said.

            “That may be true, but I’d rather not test my luck.” Caroline stood there mentally debating whether or not to stay and talk or just push past them. Before she had a chance to decide Amber started talking.

            “There are three things you should know about Burke. Three rules so to speak. One – ”

            Lacy cut in, “We’re in charge of almost everyone. Two – ”

            Amber again, “We will not hesitate to take you down if necessary. So, stay on our good side. And most importantly–”

            Leah, who was obviously Queen Bee took over. “Stay away from Carter Pilot.”

            “Let me guess…he’s yours.”

            She laughs dryly, bitter. “No. At least not yet. He’s crazy independent and single. He’s the hottest guy in school.”

            Caroline clicks her teeth together, knowing that she will be late now. “Lovely.” The girls stare at her like she certifiable. “He’s not my type. I’m not a clone, like you four are.”

            Leah’s eyes narrow. Lacy, Amber, and Adrienne all frown at me. “I really do have to get to Honors Calc so if you’ll excuse me.” Caroline pushes her way between them. Before walking away she turns around. “By the way, it was nice to formally meet you all. See you around.”

            “Watch out new girl, you’re already on a short string.”

            “One, I don’t care. Two, my name is Caroline. Car-o-line. Got it?” When they didn’t respond she continued. “Bye Lulu, Anna and Drea…or whatever your names are.”

            Not wanting any more of their trouble she turned and walked to Calculus.

            I hate this school. I miss South Carolina. I need an iced mocha with extra caffeine. This day was only getting worse.

            As she was walking with her head down she was halfway down the hall before she realized someone was next to her.

            “Hello.” She was back to being polite again. The Lalas may be bitches but that didn’t mean she had to be snotty to the entire school.

            “Hey. So I saw what you did back there, with the Kittens back there.”

            “The who?”

            “Leah, Lacy, Adrienne, and Amber. They are known around here as the Kittens.”

            “As in the Sex Kittens?”

            “That’s not the reason they chose the name, but it’s still pretty accurate.”

            Caroline nodded. This boy seemed nice enough but after that little ordeal with the Lalas she wasn’t really in the mood to deal right now. They had reached the staircase that Mrs. Welsh told her to take.

            “Well, my class is up stairs so I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

            “No need to leave. My class is upstairs as well.” That’s just fantastique for Caroline. She forced a smile and nodded.

            They walked in a semi-uncomfortable silence up the stairs. Why did my parents have to move me to Nowhere Land? With Nowhere Land People who can’t carry on a conversation? She thought. Maybe she could scare him away with her intelligence.

            “What’s you favorite flavor of quark?” she asked, not expecting him to know what a quark is. Hoping he would assume it was some kind of food and answer accordingly. Instead he surprised her.

            “Charm, because they remind me so much of myself. Charming and intelligent.” He turned and glanced at Caroline. She was surprised that Nowhere Land Boy knew what a quark was. He obviously knew enough about them to know the different flavors. Her mouth practically hit the floor.

            He laughed. “Yeah, didn’t think Hick Boy from Nebraska would know much about Chemistry did you?”

            “No.”

            He put on a face of mock-pain. “Ouch. Brutally honest, new girl.”

            “My name is Caroline.” She had been here less than an hour and no one could seem to grasp that she actually had a name like the rest of the world.

            “So I heard.”

            Caroline had a snarky comment ready but the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. “Damn,” she said, mostly to herself.

            “Wow, looks like new girl has a mouth. And doesn’t like to be late for class.” It was rhetorical so Caroline didn’t answer. “But don’t worry, like the Kittens said, your teacher won’t care.”

            “Yes, but I do.”

            “Oh, well. Where is your class anyway?”

            Caroline, who hadn’t been paying attention to where they were walking looked around. The first thing she realized was that they had finally reached the fourth floor after a treacherous journey up the staircase from Hell. She saw more of the awful lockers that the school provided lining both sides of the hall. They were an awful green color. It looked like grass had thrown up and then the painted the lockers with that. Eww.

            Little gray plaques next to the barely-there windows marked the classroom numbers. There really was no rhyme or reason to the number. They were all 300 numbers but in no way chronological. The first number she saw was 327 and she needed to get to 342. But where is that? She could ask but that could be seen as weakness.

            “Hello?”

            “Hm?”

            “What class are you supposed to be in?”

            “Oh,” Caroline said. “Um…” she glanced at the room numbers one more time. Thankfully, they had ended up right where she needed to be. “Here!”

            “Honors Calc,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

            They had stopped walking now. Caroline waited for him to leave so I could go into class. When he didn’t move on she looked up at him. “So, um, thanks.  I guess I’ll see you around then?”

            “You’ll see me sooner than that, you’re stuck with me during class.”

            “What?”

            He smirked down at her. “You thought that you were gonna get rid of me that easily?”

            Maybe, she thought. Hopefully.

            As nice as Mysterious Boy was, and charming, Caroline wasn’t naturally open to conversing with Nowhere Land inhabitants.

I was in this workshop today. . .

I was required to be at school for a journalism workshop yesterday and today. (On a Saturday and Sunday. For 12 hours and then another 7. I know. Take up all your angst with Howe.) I did not like being required to spend my gas money for the next three months to SIT AT SCHOOL but I actually enjoyed myself believe it or not.

Our keynote speaker and breakout instructor was Bobby Hawthorne (whose blog can be found here) who not only was a Texas native complete with accent, but hilarious too. I learned a lot of writing in general, not just for journalism.

The most important of which: be smart. don't be pretentious.

He showed us some passages from essay submissions that he had judges. They were the most pretentious passages of writing that I've ever seen. There was one that took three paragraphs to say GREED SUCKS. Literally.

All of what he said made me really think about how I write. I pride myself on my writing, that's no secret. I want to be acknowledged for it too. I'm not a bigot (most of the time) but I want praise. I don't want to end up on some PowerPoint for being bad writing. And, after this workshop, that's something I fear.

I think my writing is not as obviously bad as most of the stuff that we were shown but I go to a different place, a different mindset, when I write so my writing could suck and I wouldn't know. Which brought me to the conclusion that even though I have major fears of rejection I need to have a lot more people read and critique my writing.

In fact, I wrote a column during the workshop kind of about that which I plan on posting after I get revision notes from Bobby.

Until then dear readers,

S-A-M-I

_

I'm starting a new habit. At the end of every blog that I write I am going to include either a short story or an excerpt of one of my short stories.

Today's excerpt comes from a story I wrote a few years ago and have hence rewritten at least twice. I plan on beginning a third rewrite (because I'm still unhappy with it) after this year's NaNoWriMo.

So, without further of my rambling. A short bit from Demon Awakening.

She was getting weaker. The demons truly were feeding from the pain. They wanted her weak. Pain can cloud thoughts. Thinking was crucial at a time like this. Especially for Lilli. Agreeing blindly could lead to death, or worse. She tried to forget the pain, work through it.

“You are strong halfling. But you won’t be for long.” The servants of evil descended upon Lilli. Cutting her open with claws and teeth. Bleeding here humanity away.

She screams.  So. Much. Pain.

What are these things? The ones who attack her in dreams. Tell her lies and cause her pain. The evil beings who are trying to take her away from all she loves and all she knows.

“Off!” The one who seems to be in charge of the others calls. The monsters come off her, but leave her torn and bleeding. “Child,” he says to her. “Whether you wish to accept who you are is beyond my control. But whether you like it or not you belong to us. Part human you may be but you are equally as much demedhe, demon. Your humanity cannot live on.”

She summoned the energy to speak. “I don’t need humanity. I just need to be human.”

“Impertinent child!” She cringes at his tone. “There is no such thing.”

Then let me die, she thinks. I would rather be dead then one of evil.

“We will have you. Death is not an option. You will be changed, the method however shall be your choice. Either painfully,” He tightened his mental grip of her pain, which made it much worse, “or by choice.”

“I ask you again. Will you give in to us? Become demedhe and live painlessly forever?”

A Quote

I just found this quote and wanted to share it with you. It states my standing opinions of my high school Literature teachers in a much clearer way than I ever could.

Thank you Ray Bradbury.

*~*

You can’t learn to write in college. It’s a very bad place for writers because the teachers always think they know more than you do—and they don’t. They have prejudices. They may like Henry James, but what if you don’t want to write like Henry James? They may like John Irving, for instance, who’s the bore of all time. A lot of the people whose work they’ve taught in the schools for the last thirty years, I can’t understand why people read them and why they are taught.

RAY BRADBURY

Eurovision Results

Eurovision was about a month, but since then I have repeatedly listened to my favorite songs from the competition and thought that I would share my favorites with you.

In no particular order:

Taken by A Stranger by Lena (Germany)

Rockefeller Street by Getter Jaani (Estonia)

(This is the acoustic version. The pop version was sung at competition, but I prefer this one.)

Popular by Eric Saade (Sweden)

So Lucky by ZDOB SI ZDUB (Moldova)

Two reasons: Gnomes. Fairy on a Unicycle. Enough said.

So, those were my favorite. Of course, none of these won. Azerbaijan (this is even a country?) won with the love ballad Running Scared. I rather thought it was a dull performance and boring song.

From what I have gained is that basically countries vote for their neighbors so it's not really a talent competition. Sad, I was, sad.

 Also via Eurovision I also learned about that thing call Jedward. I don't know how I feel about that. You have to see them to understand. And maybe not even then.

Lipstick by Jedward (Ireland)

Have fun!

Sami

EDIT: I wrote this months ago. I don't know how it never got posted.

Saturday Mornings

DISCLAIMER: Below is a rant which includes me swearing for effect. I do that a lot when ranting.  Do not read past this point is you have problems with swearing or excessive complaining.

I am not a morning person. If you have ever met me, you can tell that. I am never pleasant in the mornings unless they occur after the hour of noon. Even if you give me a gallon of mocha with my wake-up call, I will probably still throw things at you for waking me up in the first place. Even after drinking my daily coffee, it still takes a little over an hour for me to stop feeling like a bitch.

I have never been a morning person. Even at the tender age of eight I was able to stay up until three and sleep until noon or later. I will never stop being a morning person. [By God, if I ever have kids they will naturally be night owls. If not, they can entertain themselves until I feel like dragging myself out of bed on a Saturday morning.]

Unfortunately, I live in a house of people filled with morning birds. My mother goes to the gym everyday at 4.30, my father is at work by 5.30, and my little brother, age 13, is anywhere between 6 and 7.30, no matter the day. None of them drink coffee. Yet, they are annoyingly conscious at ungodly hours.

The only other night person is my 20-year-old brother. Lucky for him, he lives in the basement and is able to beg out of any early morning procedure by claiming he was up late for work or studying.

Tomorrow is Saturday. This is what I should be able to do on Saturdays:

:opens eyes, stretches, looks at clock: Oh, look, it’s 12.30. Lovely. I want a coffee.

This is what tomorrow will look like:

8.15 --: Father knocks on door: Get up! I need your help.

            Me: No. Go away.

8.30 -- :Father opens door: Get up, let’s go. I warned you.

            Me: It’s still not nine.

8.45 -- :Father pulls blanket off me: Up and at ‘em! We have work to do.

            Me: :throws sharpened pencil/hardcover book/pillow at him:

9.00 -- :Father storms in screaming: Let’s go. NOW! I warned you last night. I am not going to argue this with you.

            Me: And I told you that there was no way in hell I was getting up this early. I’m tired. Go away.

After that it becomes a flurry of varied, indiscernible argument between me and my father. He usually threatens to do something, and I tell him that I don’t care.

He is determined to win. I am determined to sleep more.

Each week ends up a little differently.

Here’s to hoping that I get to sleep to a time closer to acceptable than 9 am.

Fingers crossed,

Sami

On a side note: I haven’t slept in at all this summer because I have either had to go to school or my Father has found something for me to do. Father knows this, I have told him, yet he still insists that I sleep enough and I need to get up.

Another note: Every single week he does this. He wakes me up when I am tired and I am unpleasant. He yells at me for being bitchy. (He does not use that word but that’s basically what he means.) I inform him that if I was allowed to sleep to a reasonable time I would be slightly more pleasant. I get yelled out for talking back. Rinse and repeat seven days later.

My family and I have a rather combative relationship at the moment. 

In which I say a whole lot about nothing...

Today, I spent a lot of time dealing with relationships. And, to be honest, it's a little overwhelming.

Don't get too excited, I have friends who read my blog, so I'm not going to name drop or anything. But I was blocked trying to write on my new(ish) story, and couldn't seem to get any editing done on the other precious that has been claiming my attention.

I don't believe in writers' block, but I had all of this information swimming around in my head and couldn't get anything substantially helpful written. Right, enough with my circular explanations, on to the point.

I dealt with three types of relationships today: happy, wishful, and fictional.

Relationship type #1: Happy and Stable

I spent over an hour listening to a friend of mine talk about how happy she is with her new boyfriend and how she thinks she is falling in love with him. It was all very touching. Really, it was. I mean, I love her and I did (technically) say that I didn't mind hearing her gush, but come on. I am truly glad that you are happy with your bf. I can see that you are on the point of giddiness. And I except that. (Which is a hard thing for me to do.) But you told me the exact same thing last Thursday sans a few details.

Congrats on you happy, now I think that I am going to go back to stressing over minor things and dealing with others that aren't quite as stable as you. Pardon me...

Which brings us to Relationship type #2: Wishful

I have a lot of friends. And they are mostly high school girls. Which means that they are destined to have a new crush every three months. I can't blame them for that, it's all those hormones and genetic probability. Unfortunately, as I am seen as the most emotionally stable (but also detached), I get the wonderful pleasure of listening to every. single. one.

And lately, there seems to be an excess number of times that I have deal with you wishing that X-guy notices you. In general, I can handle most of this. But the thing that really got me today was when I almost made one of clichéd bored, best friend comments about, I didn't. I was nice and held my tongue. This seemed to bother [name redacted]. She kept insisting that I tell her what I was thinking. I did not though because in the long run I knew that if I did, bad things would have happened. (Look Mum I'm learning to filter what I say.)

Moral of the story is that during this entire time (and many other times when I have to listen to friends moon after guys) I kept wanting to scream "RAWR! I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU HAVE A CRUSH, BUT IS IT AT ALL POSSIBLE TO TALK ABOUT IT WITHOUT GETTING STARRY EYED AND SOUNDING DESPERATE?"

Then again, some might argue that I'm insensitive and a horrible person. I would argue back that they need to ¡cállate!


Relationship #3: Fictional


I like this relationships the most because the characters end up with who I want them to end up with and generally do what I tell them to.

When they don't we get into heated arguments that they usually win.

But at least they will listen when I tell them to shut up and go take a nap.

When the characters don't want to do that I threaten to kill them off later on, terribly breaking their romantic interests heart, but I don't care because I'm just their cold, detached author who makes them up in my head.

Most of my characters with do what I plan out for them.

That is why I like fiction more than reality. Though it may also be why people legitimately think I am crazy.

THE END

P.S. I swear I have a caring heart somewhere but sometimes the love is suppressed by all of the layers of stress, exhaustion, and cynicism.
I'm off to do some happy writing now.

I READ YA FICTION!

So, last night (June 4) the Wall Street Journal posted an article that basically spent 3,000 words talking about how Young Adult fiction is horrible for children, and that the genre should be shanked.

Let's talk about all the problems I had with this article.

It started at the first line....and continued until the end.

There is not need to pull the article about bit by bit because there was nothing good in the article. It is faulty journalism spouting a bad argument with irrelevant sources. Did you see a actual young adult YA reader quoted? Did you? DID YOU?


I started shaking in anger and frustration when I read this article. I would have started swearing at my computer had the majority of my household had not been sleeping.

Fortunately, the YA book industry (including its readers) are not ones to sit by and "ignore the bully" as my mother and various teachers told me in elementary school. No, the internet took things into their own hands and created YASaves.

Headed by YA authors such as the fabulous Libba Bray and Maureen Johnson, teens and other YA readers began sharing how YA lit has helped and inspired them.

Using the hashtag #YAsaves, a rebuttal article was practically written, showing WSJ and the author of the article that YA literature isn't harming teens, it's making us stronger and overall better people.

Less than 20 minutes after creating the hashtag, #YAsaves rose to number 3 on Worldwide Trending Tweets and stayed there for almost two hours. Those of you who follow me on Twitter will know that I retweeted many of the responses that I read.  I spent over an hour just reading tweets from both readers like me and big name authors like Cassie Clare, Jay Asher, and the instigators themselves, Libba and Maureen.

YAsaves has shone a light on what's been there all along. YA fiction regularly features dark subjects: rape, abuse, cutting, depression, death, addiction, etc. But all that it does is write down what is happening in reality.  It gives teens a refuge and someone to connect with.

I get frowned upon by a lot of my "intelligent" friends at school because I read YA. They see it as "fluffy" and not real literature. Regular teen stuff. And, according to them, YA lit is below them.

This really, really bothers me. I read YA lit and I'm not afraid to admit it. In fact, I'm proud to be a part of such a great community of readers and writers.

YA lit has helped me through some things that people weren't able to. It has opened my eyes to human nature, friendship, love, communication, emotion in ways that are concurrently simpler and more complex than life itself.

The YA genre takes a lot of crap, from banners to pretentious adult lit readers and writers to the librarian who was around before the genre was created. But taken a face value, YA lit has had a ton of impact on a lot of people. I would argue (and commonly do) that YA fiction is the greatest genre because it shows relevant issues with relatable characters that both inspires controversy and community connection.

YA fiction is hurting teens, it's helping them. In more ways than anybody could ever know.

YA saves. If you don't believe me, or don't want to, go read the thousands of tweets in response to the WSJ article. But believe it. Because YA fiction is probably the reason that several of your friends, siblings, cousins,  classmates, etc are still here and sane.

#YASaves

MEGA BLOG

As I have been really busy with finals and family drama, I have not had time to finish several blogs that I have started over the last two weeks. So, consider this me making up for lost time.


Topic 1: Sarah Dessen
Last Wednesday, the lovely librarians at The Bookworm, an independent bookstore across the street from my school hosted the wonderful Sarah Dessen. My writing group meets in the basement of the Bookworm so I have met these lovely ladies and can personally tell you how fantastic they are.

Anyway, back to the main point.

The Bookworm is this tiny little store that could very well not hold all the people that Sarah was sure to attract. Instead, the signing was at one of the local branches of our library. I had to drive half way across town during rush hour but it was sure worth it.

Sarah just released What Happened to Goodbye, a story that focuses on Mclean as she moves to another new town and falls into the persona of someone she isn't quite used to: herself. It was a good book and I was so happy that Sarah would be stopping here on tour so soon after I had read it.

At the signing Sarah read the first chapter from her new book What Happened to Goodbye, had a trivia contest, and had Q&A. She was very sweet. I bought my favorite book that she's written so far to date: Along for the Ride and had her sign it. Because I never go anywhere without my camera, here are some pictures:

You should look up Sarah here: @SarahDessen, Website/Blog

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Topic 2: A Super Secret Secret


So, I am not supposed to tell anyone about this until next week but I am really tired of keeping secrets from everyone, so I am telling you all.

Ready?

I thought so.

My parents bought a house.
.
..
...
..
.
It's not final yet, the seller accepted their offer, and they close in a month.

You mat have noticed that I keep saying "them" and not "us". That's because the house that we have in Minnesota, whether it be this one or the next will never feel like home to me. I really don't feel like I ave any home at the moment, which is really sad.

Anyway, I don't know what they house looks like. My dad has been the only one to see it. My mum and little brother are going up there on Sunday to look at it, sign papers, look at schools, etc. Also, my mom has an interview for a teaching position.

Exciting, yes? (Well no. The answer is really no, not at all.)

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So, that's basically the two biggest things that have happened in my life over the past two weeks. Finals are over and "summer" has officially started.

Yep.

The Power of Nerdfighteria

So I was just over hanging out on Your Pants and was thinking about how Nerdfighters and nerdfighteria has changed my life.

Now I could go into the whole story of how I became a nerdfighter, why, when, blah, blah, et cetera that a lot of people tell...But I'm not going to.*

I am going to get down to the heart of what I really want to say.

Nerdfighters can and have changed the world. And that is just so freaking amazing.


Nerdfighting lives by the model "Decrease World Suck, Increase Awesome", but what I've come to learn during the last year and a half that I have be apart of the Nerdfighting family is that it is more than that.

Because of Nerdfighteria: Project for Awesome completely took over Youtube for a day, Vidcon, 5 planes were sent to Haiti after the earthquake with supplies; Ester Earl will forever be remembered as the star that won'to go out, and such, and so, so much more, I'm met and made friends with someone from Isreal, I'm learned that I am truly not the only nerdfighter in the state.

What it comes down to Nerdfighting is whatever each individual nerdfighter wants it to be. Over the four years that John and Hank have been making videos (and leading us), Nerdfighteria has grown to an international family.

There are over 23,000 members on Your Pants. The Vlogbrothers YT channel has over 500,000 subscribers. Nerdfighteria runs a record company (DFTBA Records). Countless vlogs, blogs, and other collaborations have been started through this community.

What it comes down to is that Nerdfighteria has shown me that anyone, even two brothers and a group of the nerdiest people on the internet, can impact each other and the world.

And that's what being a nerdfighter has taught me thus far.

Sami

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*Okay fine. When: 18 months ago. Why: I don't remember. Comments: See entire post above.

Lost Awards and Sickness

While today may be Thursday, it feel likes Tuesday for me. This is only my second day at school this week and it's a little disconcerting. Monday, as you know, was State Journalism; Tuesday was the first day I was at school; Yesterday I was sick; and today I came right before third mod.

So, not only am I very, very behind in all of my classes, I keep going to the wrong classes because I am so confused on what day it is.

[That was pretty boring. Onto something I care more about...]

Tuesday night was Freshman-Sophomore awards night. Basically, it is when each department gives awards for the best and brightest freshman and sophomores. So, as Lit is my strongest and favorite subject I naturally expected to get an English award. It was just an expectation. I was so sure that I was going to get one, I was joking about not getting one.

And then...I didn't. Now, I generally frown on people who stereotype but: all the people who won were the preppy, suck up, favorites of the teachers.

There, I said it. I did something that I always bad-talk people for doing. But it's done and, well, it's true.

I seriously deserved that recognition of getting that award. But I didn't. And now I am rather angry at the Lit teachers. And my Lit class. And everyone who tells me to stop being angry.

So...a lot of people. I have mild angry problems.

Anyway, I think I deserved an award, and I wasn't given one, and now I'm rather pissed.


Also, I really wish it was summer already so I could be done with all the formalities of school.

Sick and Angry,
Sami

P.S. As I write this Lit class, a group of people have randomly decided to attempt rapping. It bad. I dislike this class.
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EDIT: For some reason this unpublished and reposted today. Original post date was Thursday, May 12

Eurovision

As an American I wasn't really sure what Eurovision was, but on Saturday afternoon the internet (namely Maureen Johnson on Twitter) was screaming about it so I decided to watch it.

The only conclusion that I can draw from this is that it was the most awesome thing I have ever experienced. I understand Europe a little bit more now.

Eurovision = awesome.


That is all.

P.S. My vote would have gone to Moldova. Because of their hates. And the fairy on the unicycle. Nothing can match that.
P.P.S. Somebody explain to me what "Jedward" is. My mind wasn't able to comprehend them.

The Anticipation of the End

You know that feeling you get right before finishing a really good book? You next the next page is the last page and though you really want the author to write another sequel and continue with the characters stories you know that the end, the true end, is coming soon.

I love that feeling.

I just finished The Last Little Blue Envelope by Maureen Johnson. It is an incredible book, and worthy sequel to 13 Little Blue Envelopes which is what I remember as officially selling me on YA Fiction. (If you haven't read either of these books, you definitely should. They are witty and entertaining.)

On the second to last page of  LLBE I got that feeling of anticipation. As Ginny was sitting on that train, thinking about what she would do next, outlining her future, I knew that this story was really ending. I didn't want it to. I wanted another about what would happen to Ginny in college, who she would meet, and what would happen with the guy she chose. (What? You thought I was going to tell you who it was? You wish.)

But I knew that I wouldn't get anymore. Ginny's story of adventure with the little blue envelopes was over, and the rest was left for us, the reader to imagine.

Which kind of sucks, to be honest.

I have always thought that was the hardest part about being such an avid reader: Getting to the end of the fantastic books.

There have been times when I did not want a book to end so much, that I set it down and never read the last page or chapter. But I don't do that anymore, because that is almost harder in a way. Waiting so long for an ending, almost getting there, and then stopping. It's just so...painful. Not letting yourself reach the ending is just being cruel to yourself. (Let's not develop masochistic tendencies boys and girls.)

The best books always have the best endings, even if you want them not to end. Read the last page, end the story. I promise it will be worth it.

The last sentence of The Last Little Blue Envelope is"It's always easier to say good-bye when you know it's just a prelude to hello." That sentence definitely applies here as well. Say good-bye to those good endings, and say hello to new ones.

State Journalism

This is my first year on Newspaper and I miraculously qualified for State. It was held at the the school of Journalism at the University in Lincoln. Going into the day...I really had no idea what to expect. At the end of the day, well, I did.

First off, we had to leave school at the unholy time of 7.15. The competition started at 9 and it is a 45 minute trip. Why must we leave so early?!?! It's Monday! Of course, Howe is a morning(-ish) person and was fine while he had his coffee cup.

We rode a bus. Although, we all unanimously agreed that it was unnecessary and excessive to get a bus for 9 nine. Nine. But, hey...we just let Howe do what he pleases.

When we got to Lincoln, we sat around for a while until the first round of competition began. The people who didn't have a session first round (including me) walked the three blocks to Starbucks. Mmm...coffee.

After wasting an hour there we walked back to the School of Journalism and prepared for competition.

Showtime.

I walked into the room - a computer lab - and sat down. The proctor took role and made sure we were all in the right place. Then we really began.

We had one hour to write a news story based on the notes and interviews we were given.

I don't write that fast...ever.

So, needless to say, it was an interesting hour of me typing furiously and trying to absorb all of the information from the interview and background information we were given. I did not like it much because I had no personal connection to the interviews, no sense of who the subjects of the story were so I felt really disconnected from the story. Also, the topic was boring.

When the hour was up, I breathed a sigh of relief, and went off to lunch.

We went to Noodles and Co. It was delicious.

After lunch we sat through a really long and boring awards ceremony. I ended up placing 6th in the news category, which was a big honor and a surprise as most people up there were seniors and I am a first-year newspaper student who is a sophomore. I got a medal...it was shiny.

We left the ceremony early because it got really boring and tedious. It was hot and humid outside and the bus was nearly unbearable. I got all sweaty and gross on the ride back to school, and literally ran into the air conditioning to cool off when we got there.

I had originally planned for this to be much more interesting, funny, and include pictures, but unfortunately I am drowning in school work because I am three days behind.

So, I have to go back to History and Math projects now. Until tomorrow lovelies!