can't believe it's that time of year again

hey look, the nanowrimo word count is back (over to the left). which means nanowrimo is starting in less than a day. and i still can't decide which story i want to work on, but i'm sure one will rush to the front of my brain when i actually get down to writing tomorrow. it's nothing to worry about, right? right. (i just know this will be like last year when i switch stories halfway through the first week. i can feel it. ugh.) this also means that it's time for me to start my yearly unpaid advertising for nano and tell all of you to join the awesome insanity and write a novel in a month. if you have nothing to do next month, this is a great way to fill your time, but it's extra super awesome if you have school and work and chores and family and tv and a whole bunch of other things that you have to do at the same time. and i can't even describe the feeling i got the first time i held an actual bound book in my hand that i wrote (forget the fact that the plot had holes and the grammar was a bit off, it was still awesome). just do it for that feeling. so anyway, sign up at nanowrimo.org, add me as a friend (sarah_k), and start a novel tomorrow. trust me, you won't regret it.

in other exciting news... um... actually, to be honest there's really nothing exciting going on in my life as usual. i'm babysitting my nephew on wednesday and i'm excited for that because i think he's way too attached to his mom, but i don't think that will interest any of you too much. my grandma will be coming down soon, and that's always fun. but i won't be living in the same house so i dunno how much i'll actually get to see her. today is halloween, but since i don't really do anything for halloween it's not really exciting. and besides that, there's nothing really going on. oh except for all of the really cool stuff i've been learning in class which i think is awesome but don't really want to bore all of you with cause you might not be as dorky as i am.

*That Time of Year - Sick Puppies

i'll play guitar and knit and cook and basically just wonder when will my life begin?

so yesterday i went to get my hair cut, and i almost had a heart attack. with every clip of the scissors breathing became more and more difficult. i usually just take a few inches off the bottom, but yesterday i cut off an entire foot (possibly more?). i mean, it's still technically "long" in the sense of the word that any hair under the shoulder blades is long, but it feels so short. last night i was braiding it and half of my braid was missing. i don't know how people can cut their hair short.

also, yesterday we had snow. in october. it was weird. and today it is sunny. the weather is obviously on crack. but i got to wear my koala hat and an old man complimented me on it. you can guess how cool i felt.

on another note, i didn't want to be reading a book when nanowrimo started because i've noticed that my mind tends to unintentionally transfer stuff from the story i'm reading to the story i'm writing. not plagiarism or anything, but i was reading the help the other day and all my characters stared to talk with a southern twang they didnt have a week before. plus, it's harder to write crap when you're reading something that is not crap. very discouraging. so anyway, after i finished my last book i didn't pick up another and to fill the time i've been knitting. and washing dishes. and doing laundry. and baking. and i feel like rapunzel in the beginning of tangled. minus the book reading.



has anyone else noticed that october is taking a really long time to finish? usually september is the long month and october flies by. maybe only having one class this semester is messing with my [insert proper word here cause i can't think of it].

*When Will My Life Begin? - Mandy Moore

all the small things

sometimes i wonder about the small things that disappear with a person when s/he dies. the little nuances in character that really made the person unique. the things that some people may have never even known about them. take me for example, when i die, people may remember that i liked books, but would they remember which book i read when i was feeling depressed? which one i read for light reading during stressful days? which ones held my favorite characters and which i couldn't stand? would they remember that i used scraps of whatever for bookmarks - receipts, tags, gum wrappers, ticket stubs - and that the bookmarks would stay in the books to be used forever after that? they may remember that i liked to write, but would they remember which pieces i was most proud of? would they remember that my favorite punctuation was the question mark or that i could never really write anything worthwhile when i was happy? would they know that anything creative was written with openoffice writer instead of ms word and why? would they remember my many insecurities or just that i handed out cockiness by the bucketful?

when people die (or even just leave, but you know, i prefer the morbid), the ones they leave behind tend to remember memories about them instead of the people themselves. they remember what they want and who they want. the random pieces that made them a whole person are lost somewhere in the dirt they're buried in. 

for future reference, here are some of the random things that make me me:

[one] the streaks left in the carpet after vacuuming make me happy.

[two] folding clothes is the bane of my existence.

[three] my favorite place is the ocean. large bodies of water fill me with a mixture of hope and sadness that makes my chest tight.

[four] i'm not a fan of feet.

[five] half of what i say is quoted from a book/movie/tv show.

[six] i don't like even numbers.

[seven] i like to sit in traffic and listen to good music.

[eight] growing up, all of my toys were boys. even now, most of my stuff that i name get boys' names (joe, junior, jj). 

[nine] i've always regretted the fact that i never took a real english/writing/literature class since ap english in high school.

[ten] i hate change because the unknown brings with it a higher risk of failure, and failure is my biggest fear. 

[eleven] i don't ask for help from others.

[twelve] i like the feel of sore muscles after exercising, but rarely have the will power to get up and exercise.

[thirteen] i get buyers remorse over just about anything, so it takes me forever to actually buy something.

[fourteen] colored socks make me happy. 

[fifteen] my favorite number is fifteen, followed by seven and nine. 

*All the Small Things - Blink 182

don't tell me you don't know

i can't remember which class it was, or even if it was high school or undergrad, but i remember once learning about the origins/meanings behind nursery rhymes and finding them fascinating. i recently came across the meaning behind "peter, peter, pumpkin eater" and my interest was rekindled. my interpretation growing up of some of them was so off base it's ridiculous. here are a few rhymes, what i thought they meant, and what they really mean.

baa baa black sheep,
have you any wool?
yes sir, yes sir, three bags full:
one for my master, one for my dame, 
one for the little boy who lives down the lane

growing up, i thought with full conviction that this was just about a talking black sheep who had three bags of wool to give to specific people. 

i was originally taught that this rhyme was about the taxes people were suffering from in 1275 to the fifteenth century when they had to give, roughly, one third to the king and one third to the church and only keep one third for themselves. apparently now people are arguing this origin, but being the first one i ever learned, i thought i'd put it here anyway. 

fun fact: baa baa black sheep was one of the first songs ever to be digitally recorded and played on a computer in 1951.

jack sprat could eat no fat,

his wife could eat no lean,

and so between the two of them

they licked the platter clean.

growing up, i thought this was about a married couple with digestion problems. jack could eat nothing fatty and his wife only like fatty things. they were a perfect match because they could perfectly finish a plate between them.

instead, jack sprat is reputed to be king charles the first, and his wife henrietta maria. king charles apparently wanted to wage war on spain, but parliament wouldn't finance it (so he was lean). he dismembered parliament and his wife imposed an illegal war tax (to get some fat). 

jack and jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.

jack fell down and broke his crown,

and jill came tumbling after.

this of course was about two kids who went to a well on the top of the hill. i always believed that jack fell own, broke his head, and died which made jill faint and she tumbled down the hill too. she didn't die, though.

the roots of this rhyme lay in france, and the title characters refer to king louis xvi and queen marie antoinette. during the reign of terror, he was beheaded first (lost his crown) and she followed. 

peter, peter, pumpkin eater

had a wife but couldn't keep her.

he put her in a pumpkin shell,

and there he kept her very well.

i always (up until recently) thought this was about a dude named peter that couldn't keep his wife. (my reasons for this ranged from he didn't have a house to it was a secret marriage.) anyway, he sticks her in a huge pumpkin house, and they live happily every after.

this rhyme was started in america to warn young girls away from infidelity. apparently, peter's wife wasn't the most faithful. his way to deal with this was to kill her and hide her body in a pumpkin shell. after that, he could make sure she never betrayed him. 

*Over It - Relient K

what do you think of me?

a couple of days days ago, i bought a few round knitting looms because i'm just really cool like that. my sister saw them in my car and asked what i was going to make, and this was the subsequent conversation.

me: hats. lots of hats.
her: why?
me: i'm making them for SPEW.
her: SPEW?
me: yeah, you know, the society for the promotion of elfish warfare... to protect the rights of house elves.
her: huh?
me: harry potter, stupid. it was in the last book of the series that you read... hermione made a bunch of hats to liberate the house elves.
her: oh.

the next day she came over and started making a hat of her own. while she's knitting, she asks, "so who are you giving these to again? elves?" i laugh and say, "yeah, to free them," thinking she had realized that i wasn't serious the night before. apparently, she hadn't, which i realized a few minutes later into the conversation. that was when i started to laugh at her and she started to defend herself and then say that if there was a charity event to give hats to the homeless for winter and they used the SPEW thing, they would be very successful.

i'm not sure which is worse: the fact that she believed that i was making hats for fictional characters or the fact that me making hats for fictional characters is believable.

anyway, i'm about halfway done with my first hat. it's coming out smaller than i was expecting (that's what i get for listening to my sister and husband and using the smaller loom) but it's still pretty awesome. i've never made a hat before.

*So Damn Beautiful - Polaroid

brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things

this morning, i made peanut butter cookies. i have a really bad history with homemade peanut butter cookies. they either turn out way to salty (we had this cookie recipe book that apparently thought salt was the best flavor for every cookie under the sun) or like watery and gross (that was when my sister made them) or something else goes wrong. but today's cookies were fantastic. the fact that there are only two left from the two and a half dozen that came out of the oven this morning can attest to that. the recipe is officially going into my favorites. oh, and i also think that my oven has decided to like me (finally), so there's that. overall a successful day for baking.

completely switching gears here, but for the last five or so years of my life, i have been known to ask hopefully every time anyone checks the mail if there is anything for me. there rarely ever is, and when i do get mail it's usually a credit card offer. sad, i know. but lately, the mail has been quite exciting for me. for the past week, i have opened the mail box to find packages from my grandma. packages! for me! is there anything more exciting? (well, except for the fact that she seem to alternate between spelling my name with and without the "h" at the end when i am definitely an h kinda person, but i forgive her because i'm understanding like that.) they have mostly been stuff about travel and attractions (i think she's trying to tell me something) and my list of places i must see before i die has grown ridiculously. i also got a prize for a raffle i won (free little gym membership for my nephew) and coupons for free ice cream and it's just all over wonderful.

speaking of raffles and winning, i've noticed that i've become luckier since my marriage. i can count the number of contests and raffles i won before i got married on one hand and still use that hand pretty well. but whenever i mention the fact that i'm married now, i win. case in point: i filled out a survey when in first got married (it was the first time i put my status as married on a form. huge moment.) and won one of the three gift cards to the gap they were giving out. case in point: i filled out a raffle ticket at a fall festival recently and had to put my "spouse's name" and ended up winning one hundred and thirty five dollars worth of gym classes for my nephew. i'm trying to think of a third case in point to make myself sound more convincing, but i really don't  get the opportunity to enter many raffles.

anyway, good cookies, packages, and raffle luck. my day (read: week) went well.

*My Favorite Things - The Sound of Music Soundtrack

you want thingamabobs? i've got twenty! but who cares? no big deal

it feels like, as a society, we are taught to value nouns. we are constantly striving to obtain the nouns in life. people, places, things. money, love, happiness. we like to collect things and judge others on the size of their collections. i'm better than her because of the clothes i'm wearing. i'm jealous of him because he lives in a bigger house.

verbs are only accepted as the necessary way to get to a noun. the more verbs you go through, the better the noun, but the verbs are otherwise disposable. happiness is better than being happy. we go around looking for the love of our life, forgetting to actually be in love. we strive for knowledge, but the act of learning is something we do grudgingly. we want peace but don't want to get along. actions are too common. they are the things that are better hidden under the rug, pushed into the shadow of the trophy we can put on display.

your verb is only accepted if you have the nouns to back it up. a person who writes is not a writer until s/he has a book to prove it. a person who cooks is not chef without a restaurant to cook in. we need a ribbon at the end of a race to validate running around the track.

why can't we just be content with verbs? why does the end have to justify the means to make the journey worthwhile? why can't we just enjoy the journey itself?

when we value life more than living, it's easy to fear death and forget that every minute we are dying.

*Part of Your World - The Little Mermaid Soundtrack

it's a beautiful day

today is just one of those days when the weather is perfect and there's good food and i can't seem to stop yawning and i've been productive and lazy at the same time and i kind of just want to sit and stare off into the distance for the rest of eternity. you know the ones?

anyway, i was resubmitting a form for my phd application in person this morning because mason is pernickety and can't seem to understand the concept that if i had in-state tuition for undergrad, and i had in-state tuition for my masters, and i haven't left the state, that i should get in-state tuition for my phd... you know, if i get accepted and everything. so i'm giving in my form and the admissions person says, "are you anisah's sister?" which i am and had to confess to, but it struck me how for most of my life i've been referred to as someone's sister. i'm rarely just me, and i think i might kind of like to be once and a while.

i don't think i'll be able to do much concentrating in class tonight. it feels like i haven't been to class in years because last week's was cancelled and i think i might have forgotten how to go to class and sit and pay attention and learn. if ever there was a day when classes should be cancelled so we could all contemplate the whiteness of the walls, today is it. i think the breeze coming in through the window is messing with my brain.

a part of me really wants to sleep right now. another parts wants to go sit outside and let the sun beat on my back and read the book that for some reason is taking me forever to read. instead, i have to keep reminding myself that i have a class to go to tonight. yawn.

since i can't seem to hold on to a point here, please enjoy this video that i find quite awesome.



*Beautiful Day - U2

there's too much food on my plate

i woke up today, took a shower, and then made myself a grilled bagel (have i ever mentioned my love for grilled bagels on here? i lovelovelove them) with banana peppers for breakfast. my husband had a cheddar cheese omelet and toast with jam and butter. we just opened our fridge and everything was right there waiting for us to devour it. fresh and packaged and kept cool by electricity. when breakfast comes this easily to you, it's sometimes hard not to take it for granted.

but for a lot of the world, fridges filled with food is not something to sneeze at. for some people, it's about as unobtainable as unicorns and leprechauns. we all grew up with our parents telling us to finish our plates because there were starving children in africa. as we grow older, we are asked to do more for these children than just eat our vegetables. and with the entire world in a recession, it's not only the children in africa who are starving anymore. when you have a fridge full of food, it's the least you can do to try and help those who don't. just being more conscientious about the food crisis is a step in the right direction, though there are several places you could go to donate money. you could also look up your local food bank and donate stuff there. there are easier ways to help, too, like playing online games like free rice which donates twenty grains of rice for every correct vocabulary word you get.

while still debating about what to write for this year's blog action day, i came across this site which has ten facts about food that i found really cool. for example, did you know that the color of the twisty-tie thing on bread changes in accordance with which day the bread was baked? or how about that sodas are called soft drinks because soft drinks were those with no alcohol, as compared to "hard drinks?" you know how twinkies supposedly last forever? yeah, well, their shelf life is really only twenty five days. i'll let you all go read through the rest yourself, but there were some really cool things on there.

anyway, food. stop taking it for granted.

*Too Much Food - Jason Mraz

i watch my dreams die

i'm drowning in still-born dreams, getting tangled up in hopes i spun in moments of delusion, choking on wishes i now refuse to voice. i'm cursing my stupidity and tearing up the pages of my past, setting fire to older starry-eyed versions of myself and burying the ashes three hundred feet below ground. i'm stomping on the dirt and booking a one way trip to the moon to get as far away from them as i can.

i'm crying myself dry and peeling off the skin i spent years growing. i'm pulling out treacherous veins and twisting my tongue to squeeze out all offending words. i'm a garage sale of parts you can get for a bargain. buy my smile for two broken promises, my fingers for the sound of popping bubbles and one gilded lie. i'll trade you my mind for your stubborn logic and throw in years of blood, sweat, and tears for free. take everything i have; it was never worth much.

my heart is beating out seventy-six rejections a minute, my lungs inhaling disappointment and exhaling failure. i'm in this race to lose because it's the only thing i'm good at. i collect criticisms and bruises, put them on display under the glaring light of reality. i watch my reflection as the twinkle leaves my eye and what i used to call stardust turns my world a drab, colorless imitation of what i pretended it was. i'm sending my imaginary friends packing and forgetting to exchange emails.

dress me in assembly line grey, and take back my imagination. i don't want it, i don't need it, it never did me much good. turn my magic into technology and my art into science. fit me with blinders and give me a map of how to live my life. hand me a check list and i will follow it religiously. turn me into a robot and i will march to the beat of your drum. mine was always off-tune anyway. tell me what to be, and i will be it. tell me what not to be, and i will watch the possibilities sprout wings and fly away.

i give up. i give up. i give up.

*False Hope - Taking Back Sunday