I am semi-ill today, meaning not enough to barf up a lung, but enough that after I awoke in the middle of the night (read: 5 am) I did not go back to sleep and instead lay on my back reading some angsty novel for the second time. A side note, it didn’t seem so angsty the first time I read it. But this time it was like, whoa, rein it in a little there. Maybe because I’m getting past my angst stage and moving into the mid-life crisis stage. (I’m going to have one of those early and get it over with.) What was good about reading the book was that I actually gasped aloud (I do that a lot, actually, the other day I dropped a fork and I gasped and Dad heard me in the other room and thought I cut off my finger or something) at one of the main revelations, which had somehow slipped my mind.
Anyway, since I am ill, I shall blog. It’s my thing-to-do-when-ill, apparently. I know it has been such a long time, my friends, alas. However I shall not neglect you any further. So… I think I shall list the things that have happened while I was ‘away’:
1. My room has become an indoor farm. I have the whole setup. Grow lights, heat mat, little newspaper pots full of adorably cute seedlings. Which I took pictures of, and was meaning to attach to this post, but I can’t be bothered to get out of bed and upload them. So, some other day. Right now I’m growing parsley (which just started to get its first set of true leaves– aww! The babies grow up so fast!), eggplant, lemon balm, and tomato. It sounds strange, but the seedlings are the cutest things ever. They look so eager, reaching up with two leaves splayed out to catch the light. I’m becoming very attached to them.
2. Dad took Poncho, Dodge, and me shed hunting. Sheds are very elusive. And quiet. And camoflauged. Because they are, in fact, deer antlers that the bucks shed in the early spring. We went to the cemetery, where Dad was positive there are/were at least 4 antlers lying around from the Twins, and we stalked around in the woods at the edge of the cemetery property. I had fun collecting random possibly edible things that were growing, but I got a little creeped out as well because there were lots of abandoned hobo encampments back there. Plywood, bricks, tarps, old tires, ropes… and I was waiting for some scraggy guy with a beard to leap out at us or something. Which, thankfully, did not happen. We found no sheds but we did find a) deer-related things such as tracks and poo; b) a dead and partially decomposed squirrel; c) a hawk’s wing (sad!!!) Then for a while we walked around the cemetery, hoping maybe we’d find the sheds there, but we didn’t. We looked at the groundhog holes and we cleared off the sunken headstones of some veterans. And we heard a hawk shriek. It sounded exactly like the hawk sound-effect that is so ubiquitous on Dr Quinn (“ka-kwa, ka-kwa”, as the boys say). And in Mulan, the evil hawk thing does that screech. I so did not think hawks sounded like that in real life but they do, apparently.
3. My Irish dance life got majorly messed up.
Let’s just leave it at that. Otherwise I’ll babble and rant for hours and none of it will make any sense to you non-Irish-dancing people.
However, I did get to do one awesome thing, which was perform for two ESL (English as a second language) classes. One class was actually on St Patrick’s day, and it was awesome, because not only did one lady (I wish I’d gotten her name) get really into it and sit in the front row and hug me afterward, I finally met Melkamayehu! And she is even cooler in person.
4. I’m getting all rabid and weird and crazy due to a combination of inter-related factors such as no good new books, too much internet, et cetera. I have made up my mind that I shall duly finish the first draft of my novel as soon as possible– no, not definite eough– by the end of the summer– too soon?– Well, sometime rather soon because I feel ike my life is becoming a race. I’m in 10th grade, which is fast fading, and it’s like I have two more years until the floor will drop out from under me and I’ll have to support myself, I suppose. Not that the day I turn 18 my parents are kicking me out, but I’m not going to college, and thus I can’t really afford to be a “writer” with nothing to show for it once I graduate high school. I’m a failure of a teenager at everything else (driving = I hate it and have no desire to ever do it again in my life; getting a job = I don’t want to hand over control of my schedule/time/life in exchange for money), so I have to at least make some sort of progress in relation to my future.
Pressure. I actually work well under pressure so maybe this is good for me, after all. But at the same time I sort of wish that I had a completely pressure-free existence. or at least, that I lived by measureable pressures, survival pressures. Like, food and water and shelter. That sort of thing. You can bring in baskets of tomatoes or peaches or beans or whatever and go, yeah, that’s going to be enough food, or you can say no, it’s not. And then you can act by it. But with pressures about the future and whatnot, how am I supposed to do anything about them? I can’t peer into my life 3 years from now and see if what I’m doing and what I have will be enough or not. I can’t be sure about anything.
Well… that is all for now, I suppose. I guess that last one was a glimpse into what I said earlier, about having the midlife crisis early on. Getting it out of my system. Hopefully.
Peace,
Pen