And on our left...

So here I sit with my chocolate-malt ice cream bar; my current favorite album Meredith Andrew's The Invitation playing through my earbuds; an open window with an Indian summer breeze blowing through (*bliss*); and an unplugged laptop whose battery will take a nose-dive soon if I let this get too long. :(

My homework is done; I have a few hours before I leave to go to a friend's house for dinner and a Biblestudy (another installment of The Truth Project - hurrah!); I have a novel to edit; a journal entry to write; and a major discussion to have with my sister about doll costumes and NaNoWriMo plots (heh-heh).

I really wanted to do NaNoWriMo this year, but I'm afraid that'll have to be postponed due to the necessities of life called "college" and "career" (pish-posh; I didn't ask to grow up). I am determined that I shall do it someday. Maybe I'll do the spring one, depending on what God hands me life-wise by then.

Speaking of God, I stumbled across a phrase in my Bible reading this morning that I absolutely loved: sweet fellowship. Fellowship is sweet. And fellowship with God is the sweetest of all when you take the fruit He has given you (i.e. the Bible) and bite deep and find the sweetness beneath the skin. Prayer, too, is sweet fellowship. When you can open your heart to God and tell Him your fears and hurts and thank Him for your joys and the gifts He pours out on you. That is wonderfully sweet. Which makes me wonder why I never take advantage of it like I can. I'm one of the worst prayer-warriors a person could ask for. I constantly forget to pray or rush through my prayers. It's definitely something I really need to work on.

You're probably beginning to wonder if this post has a point that I'm getting too after an obscenely long introduction. I might as well let you in on the secret:

This post has no point.

Sometimes I just feel like typing and spilling things out and wandering through the caverns of my brain (always a dangerous thing to do).

If you want to come along for the ride, climb aboard. It's harmless, I assure you.

Though I can't promise much when it comes to the scenery.

Yesterday my brother and sister and I were having a discussion about how people make cds these days and how there are so many assistive devices that the person doesn't really need to have much talent besides song-writing (and I would say that many songwriters are sorely lacking in that area as well, though I'll demonstrate unusual self-control and not name names) and a voice that can hold up under the basic notes of a given range. It sure pops a delusional bubble when you find out that the song is mostly perfected electronically (they don't even have to sing in tune anymore, they just correct it with a machine).

Oh well.

I suppose the pioneers of yesteryear would say it's cheating to use a microwave.

Ok, I'm puzzling myself.

I am so excited about Christmas.

(See? I warned you about the scenery)

I can't wait for the music, the decorations, the special programs on the radio, the family time, the presents, the church services, our family tradition of watching like nine different Christmas Carol movies (not to mention It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story and The Nativity Story)...

I...can't...wait

I had something I wanted to talk about here, but I've forgotten what it is... Hmm...

I've been told I'm really morbid because I like books where people die and movies where people die and I like to write about people dying (if you've read my short story Holly and Ivy, you'd notice this). To me, death is a bigger emotional punch than a wedding or a baby or falling in love. Like Anne Shirley said (yeah, I know. I refer to her a lot...) "I'd rather make people cry than laugh".

Personally, I like to do both.

But death? There's something about it that fascinates me in writing and movies. Especially in writing. Exploring the emotions of the people around the dying person, thinking up the medical, physical and emotional aspects of the dying person's character, and everything else that goes with such deliciously morbid material - I love it.

It makes people look at me queerly, though, when I rave about a person dying in a scene of a book or film. I've found out that more people like happy endings than sad ones and they think I'm strange for liking the sad ones. There's just something about a sad ending that gives me more satisfaction than when everything works out perfectly. Plus, I love killing off characters and making people mad at me for doing it. :) You don't realize how much you really liked a character until they're dead, I always say.

Actually, I've never said that before, but you wouldn't have known that if I hadn't told you, so...

I'm lost.

This seems to be a trend right now.

I'll sign off now and let you get back to your lives - which are probably infinitely more interesting than this.

Though if this was boring you wouldn't have gotten to this message.

Haha.

All right, my computer has just informed me that it's dying. That's one death I don't like.

Tata!

'Till next time,