A Healthy Dose of PMS ~#

[DesertRoseFallen]

Well done on winning!! I guess the only thing I've won is a story writing contest to go on the radio and read it out in Year Six. Haha, embarrassing much.

And I loved your clipit of your story biggrin

 

[saint_savin]

This is a journal. RANTING IS OK THAT IS WHAT JOURNALS ARE FOR biggrin .  

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

xd Ranting DOES make everything feel a hell of a lot better. heart

Also, thanks. I'm hopefully going to get my hands on it tomorrow. Holly is having some tech issues at the moment, but I should have it by tomorrow! =D

Monday 6th October, 2008.

Now playing: Never Neverland - Stephanie J. Block

In those tales bad guys seldom did win, so the captain was eaten... Mum, let me go to Never Neverland! So I'd pretend, I'm flying away.

A short entry tonight. I'm happy tonight. xd
I've written 1.5k today, and got to a decent scene. By which I mean a scene where Ellette gets beaten up. >_o I know I'm not very nice, but it does have something to do with the plot, honest! ... Sort of, anyway. I don't think there's actually anything else to say today, other than having an hour for a nap in the evening sure makes for a nice night. <3

I'm going back to bed now. =3

Words written today: 1,521.
Overall wordcount: 78,666 (Only 1.4k to go! =DD)

Lines for today:

"...You know, I hate that man.”

“I had gathered. We did try to blow him up.”

“And Exos how I wish we had succeeded,” Medina replied bitterly.

I'm flying away!

 

[DesertRoseFallen]

Well done for today's work!! Keep it up!

 

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

Thank you!

I've hit my goal now, so I'm free to write for NaNo until the end of November. ;] I'll write a full update later after I've actually written something. xd  

[Chanthar]

Yay for hitting goals!
Whee! -waves arms- Congrats  

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

Thank you! =D

~Tuesday 7th October, 2008.

Now playing: Beat It - Michael Jackson

No one wants to be defeated, showin' how funky strong is your fight. It doesn't matter who's wrong or right.

Today has been awesome. Seriously. I managed to hit my goal for 80k at school and then had the rest of the night to do absolutely nothing. NOTHING. I didn't go any homework. I surfed the internet until gone eight in the evening, and then decided that I fancied having a crack at writing a character development sketch for Rouge, my new villain. I wrote the scene where she first buys her mute Talk Monkey pet. I really enjoyed it, wrote 2k, and for the first time in ages I geniuinely like the whole thing. xd Sure, it would need editing and crap, but I don't care. I like it so much I'm going to post it here. Beware: Crap Ahead. =P

CHIZ


The first time I saw Chiz I knew I’d fallen in love. I remember he was sat by the side of some Gypsy gentleman with a wide-brimmed hat, long coat and moustache that could rival Blue’s teenage ponytail. It was getting dark outside, and the weather was taking a turn for the worst. It was getting colder, and the dark clouds overhead threatened a storm if I didn’t hurry along soon. It was the perfect weather for a carnival.

Blue had told me that morning that I couldn’t have a pet. We’d sat in the Sun Room discussing animals in general, their plus sides and negatives, because Blue loves to talk about things in terms of business deals, and I had mentioned that I wanted to get a pet. I wanted something, an animal preferably, to lighten up the house because it gets awfully lonely in the towers around wintertime. Blue had shaken his head in annoyance, smiled at me and told me that I was always buying things to make the place less lonely. He said we should just downsize.

I disagreed. And so, when Blue argued with me again I did exactly what any other self-respecting independent woman would do: I went out and bought myself a pet. The carnival was in town and had been for a couple of weeks so far, but I’d neglected going that far into the C.C. before the day I went for Chiz. The walk seemed unnecessary effort, and I was far too busy trying to paint the guest room for when Mother came to stay- she didn’t come to stay, after all, but the room does look nicer now that it’s not that hideous orange that Indie painted it the last time- and I hadn’t felt like walking more than two feet from our house, never mind all the way into the centre of the C.C. I would have needed to take the train, and at the time it seemed like more discomfort than I could bear.

But when it came down to it, I would have done anything to prove to Blue that I was right, and that he was just being childish. So, I walked the half-mile to the nearest inner-city rail station, slid on at the back and hoped that nobody I knew would see me. I hate being seen on public transport, it’s so humiliating. I’ve told Blue time and time again that we should buy a car, but he insists again and again that we don’t need one. He says that we hardly ever go anywhere, and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s true. The only time I ever leave the house is to pop into the Palace Corp. to meet with The Directors, and I do that so seldom it’s not even worth it. Most of the time we work over the weblink.

The city was cool and damp, but the carnival was set apart from this biting weather in the dome they’d set up for it. Walking through there was like stepping into some giant bell jar, some bubble with almost-invisible walls. They forgot the roof though, so while the sidewalks were dry, the rest of the damn thing- all the roofs of the stalls and the little counters where they keep the rubber ducks- was soaked through.

The menagerie was located at the far end of the carnival, in a tent the size of our back yard. It stretched perhaps thirty feet in width, and was longer than I could be bothered to investigate. I didn’t head in there with the intention of buying anything in particular; I just knew that I really wanted something to live in the house with me. It would be even better if it could annoy Blue, though, and ideally I wanted something that would give Indigo the heebies. I was about to settle on searching for a snake- spiders seemed to commonplace, and besides which we already had enough of them in the attic- when I caught sight of a young girl.

She was probably no older than eight or nine, only ten or so years younger than myself at the time, and she was waving this great big banner above her head that read something like ‘Anim-azing animals on display. Beside the bar’. I didn’t even know it was legal for them to have a portable bar in a place like that, but being in the situation I was in- public transport really does mess with my nerves something rotten- I decided that it wouldn’t hurt me to have one drink. And the Anim-mazing animals didn’t sound too much of a bore either.

And that’s when I saw Chiz for the first time. The Gypsy man was sat on a barrel nursing a drink that smelt faintly like whiskey, or coffee, or possibly a combination of the two. Chiz was the most magnificent monkey I’d ever seen. He was also the first monkey I’d ever seen, and the moment I laid eyes on him I knew I had to have him.

“Is he for sale?” I asked the man, eyeing up the little ball of brown fuzz cautiously. He looked a little young- I assumed it was a ‘he’ anyway- and his face looked like a smashed watermelon, but I found him adorably cute. He sat stock-still, gazing at me with eyes that could have melted iron.

“Sure is love,” the man told me. “Hickle-back monkey, two years old. He’s an Animi, least we thinks he is. I fink he’s one of them talking ones, but as far yet we ain’t managed to get a peep out of him.” I continued to gaze at him, weighing his posture and his stare with my own. He certainly looked healthy, but if I didn’t know what a Hickle-back monkey was before that day, what did it matter if I thought he looked healthy?

“You want to get him off your hands then?” I asked coyly, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. I learnt quite quickly in life that if you want anything for cheap, the best way to get it is to act cheap. It never fails.

“We sure do sweet ‘eart. He’s lovely an’ all, but we can’t take ‘em all back with us. You want him?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I played for time, twirling my hair some more and shifting from foot to foot. “I don’t have much money.” I counted what I did have, and that came to just over eighty Exos dollar bills. I wanted to get a drink before I left, and then maybe stop on Fourth Street to see if the new order of boots had come in.

“We was lookin’ for around sixty white,” the man told me. Sixty dollars was probably not bad for a monkey. I’d heard they were expensive; especially for a talking monkey. The little creature watched me intently, eyes following my every action as though he knew exactly the kind of scam I was trying to pull, and he admired every inch of it.

“That’s a shame,” I said, pawing at my mini skirt. I was glad I hadn’t dressed for the weather, for once. The Gypsy man was groping me with his eyes now, but I resisted the urge to shiver with disgust. All in the name of getting back at Blue. “All I’ve got is fifty dollars, and I’ve got to pay for the train fare back home...” One flick of my hair and he was almost drooling.

“Fifty you say?” he asked me. “S’all you gots?”

“Yessir,” I answered in my most earnest voice. “I really want him, too.” The monkey was bobbing his head excitedly now, rubbing his hands together.

“An’ you really want the flea ball?”

“Yessir.” I shifted feet again and brought my hands down to my lap, trying to appear younger than I was. It wasn’t hard; he was all over me.

He appeared to be thinking about my proposition, or rather my appearance and what he could say to his wife when she found out that the monkey had gone for ten dollars less than she’d wanted. He watched me, and I watched the monkey, and finally he spoke.

“So, you gots to catch the train?”

“Yessir.”

“How much white does that cost?” I quickly calculated how much it would cost a girl half my age without a privilege pass, and then clicked my fingers.

“About six dollars for that maybe.” It seemed like the long way around a negotiation, but I wasn’t going to rush him. He could ask me as many questions as he liked as long as I could get my hands on that monkey. I had the perfect little outfit in mind for him sitting in my closet from the time Indigo decided to raid the animal right’s works for contraband.

“So, you want the monkey?” I wasn’t going to get annoyed at him. I wasn’t.

“Yessir, and I have forty six dollars to give you. Can I please have him?” It took all my effort to keep the edge from my voice, and the smile I gave him hurt my face. The monkey appeared to be laughing at me.

“Forty six? You fink that’ll buy the monkey?”

“It’s all I have.”

He thought about it some more, and I imagined I could see his wife at home threatening him with a belt and sleeping on the grass outside their trailer, but apparently even her threats couldn’t hold off my charm. Finally he shook his head and laughed.

“I must be insane, girl, but you convinced me. I take it you know how to look after ‘im then?” I didn’t, but I nodded my head anyway. This kind of thing was what the weblink was for. “Alrigh’, take the poor sod. I’m sure he’ll love you.”

With a smile on my face I handed him the money from inside my bra and allowed the monkey to swing up into my arms. He still seemed to be laughing at me, but now it was in a respectful kind of way.

“By the way,” I said just as the Gypsy began to back away with his whiskey-coffee into the darkness of his stall. “Does he have a name?”

“The Misses named him Solomon,” he said. “I think it fits him.”

“Thanks.” I looked at the monkey with a degree of amusement, and the look in his face told me that he hated his name just as much as I did. “Alright,” I said once we were out of earshot- the bar was much less appealing now- “How about Chiz, and then a cup of tea in the HeartBreak?”

He nodded, and it was settled. Chiz was mine, and tea was on the menu.



Words written today: 3,267.

Lines for today: most of them. heart

Just Beat It, Beat It

 

[saint_savin]

Conga-dancing-rats! That's so awesome.

And soon, you can do it again! YAY NANO.  

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

xd

Yay NaNo! =D  

[DesertRoseFallen]

Wow keep up the good work!

 

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

Whooo! Well, today I haven't written anything, but I think I deserve the time off.  

[DesertRoseFallen]

Haha, well at least you wrote something, more than me. And no Shakespeare?! Wow, lucky!

 

[Psychotic Maniacal Sanity]

~Saturday 11th October, 2008.

Now playing: It Matters To Me - Karmine Alers

If you go down burning what do you have to lose? You're so scared you can't see the truth, but I see the rainbows that you can't see. If it don't matter to you, it matters to me. Remember the times, we laughed till we cried...

Haven't really posted much here lately. I've been too busy enjoying the freedom of not having to write much at all. Today I tried out Holly Lisle's How To Beat Writer's Block, which was actually pretty effective. It got me working through the issues in the trilogy, and then proceeded to make me want to write another character sketch. The one I've written today is shorter than the first one, and from AC's point of view. It's a more general thing, not an actual scene from AC's life, but I sort of like it anyway. <3

As for school, it's busy as all hell as usual, but it's okay. Today I worked my way through the biggest piece of history homework ever, and I felt so good for it all of today, then. So I was then free to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day. I read a chunk of The Hound of the Baskervilles for my enrichment book club, had a nap, and surfed the internet for the rest of the day.

Now, despite it being only midnight, and me not getting up until 11:30 today, I feel so tired I could literally drop to sleep right here at my keyboard without much effort at all. In fact, it would be less effort to sleep here than to do anything else. And yet, I can't sleep because I'm talking to people. I like talking to people. >_o

Anyway. I'll put the sketch here, because it's only short. Enjoy. (Or not, whatever).

RAINBOW DISASTER

The rainbow of brightly colour candies lined the walls of the sweet shop on 57th street. They could be seen even from across the street, lit by neon strip lighting across the front of the shop that read “Madam Butter Rum’s Sweet Emporium”. Every morning from the day I got the job working at that place I would feel an unexplainable desire to get inside as quickly as possible, since without the lighting, even early in the day, the street looked empty and barren. The cold greet streets were washed out and dull, and the only thing I knew would bring brightness and beauty back to the street was to get inside and turn those fantastic neon lights on.

Even when I had been working there for weeks, months, I still found myself drawn to the lights on top of the building. After much pestering I managed to get Madam Butter Rum herself to agree to add a new light to the outside of the shop. It was a classic candy wrapper image, bathed in wonderful rainbow glory. In the winter it shone like a bright light in the darkness, like the story of the Goddess Aeve coming down to Exos to bestow upon the good believing people good fortune, luck and happiness. In the summer, during those hot, sultry summer nights in the city, the lights were like a guiding beacon, showing the children that there was an end in sight to the mad heat. They would come here in there hundreds- not all at once, but they would roll into the shop in a steady stream of bodies, each with money that they couldn’t wait to spend.

Inside the shop there was always air conditioning. I had asked for that to be installed as well, since beforehand it had been too warm, and all of the staff could barely cope without passing out, never mind smile and act happy as we were ordered to. After the air conditioning unit it was easier to be happy though, and the bright lights inside the emporium made the candy glow. Sometimes I used to think on it as a disco ball, throwing out those lights of all different colours. Sometimes I wondered whether it was right for us to be exposed to the colour for so long, wondered if it would desensitise us to the beauty. But after six years of working there, I still wake up every day with the desire to run into the shop and turn the lights on. I love to bring the children into the shop, I love to hand them their candy, watch as they climb onto stools and reach up into the glass boxes for their bags of Pick ‘N’ Mix. I love to be the one who can tell them “You’ve got two more grams if you’re going to give me that much money. Why don’t you go and get some more candy to fill your bag?”

I guess I was just born to work in a sweet shop. I was born to work alongside the rainbows and neon lights that feel like religion. And that was why I felt like my whole life had been turned upside down, when I woke up one morning to find our precious sweet shop, our home in the city, was no longer there. I can tell you now, if Danger hadn’t been there with me that morning, I do believe I might have died from the shock. It was devastation. And you know what the worst part of it was? The worst part of it was that for the first time since starting work in that place, I couldn’t turn on those neon lights and watch the city come to life. This is what death must feel like, I thought. There’s no way a person could live if they were to feel as dark, and cold, and empty as this. The prophecy, then, and the resolution that was made to bring Madam Butter Rum, and her sweet emporium, back to Central City, seemed like the most logical conclusion in the world.

Words written today: Five hundred and something, plus writer's block stuff which doesn't really count.

Lines for today: I like most of them, actually.

Borrow my faith, borrow my heart..

 

[DesertRoseFallen]

Your writing is so good biggrin Keep up the great work. How are you doing on your goals?

 

[saint_savin]

I never would have thought to discuss a sweet shop as a religious experience. That's really cool biggrin .