And I wonder as I lay here, in this sleepless field of dreams..

HELLO!

Somehow you've stumbled upon my blog, scraping the ends of the internet for something interesting.

Instead you found this.
I hope I don't put you to sleep.


Stories of fiction and fact lie dormant in this digital journal. Anything labelled with fiction junction is just that: fiction.

STORIES

» fiction junction. [all stories are sorted by this tag]
» refraction.
» love's weight.
» Viktor's Girls. [an ongoing collection]


do you think of me when I think of you

» Rachel Waa.
» xkcd.
» questionable content.
» the awesomer.
» not always right.
» stumble upon.
» Lore Olympus.

as the nighttime slowly sings...?

» chih.
» kaylyn.
» kitty.
» j comeau of A Softer World.


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“if only you could see”
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fresh starts.
May 24, 2009 || 3:56 AM || comment?

So actually whether or not anyone likes this particular layout, I'm going to keep it for two or three reasons:

I like the design.
I am tired of trying to find something less colorful that doesn't just suck.
And now I feel like I am going through an emotional rebirth.

I originally was setting out to find a blog layout like my previous one: easy one the eyes, very simple and clean, and I like how different text types had different font colors. But so does this one. Anyways, I'm settling with this one.

I do hope that some people like it because I don't want my blog to rape your eyes and then you no longer desire to read my blog for something like that- but this is also /my/ blog, but because I am making it public, I feel you deserve this service, and thanks for anyone and everyone who reads this in passing or regularly checks to see what's up in the life of Me.

things aren't going so well right now.

or rather, things are going fine, when I ignore the things that are bothering me.

I had a really great time catching up with my friend. We were talking from around seven or eight up until 2:30~ this morning. We said silly things, serious things, controversial things, sad things, and happy things.

maybe more on that later.
now I am going to occupy myself with fixing this layout.

Labels:


rebirth.
May 23, 2009 || 12:54 PM || comment?

okay this one is kind of nice I think.

i might stick with this one if i can't find a better one.

ignore all the sidebar shit, i'm not going to edit it until i find a skin i like./

testing out this crap.
|| 12:41 PM || comment?

boy oh boy.

Labels:


Ch-ch-ch-changesss
May 22, 2009 || 3:56 PM || comment?

Trying to find a new blog layout.

Doubt I'll be using this one but I don't feel like changing it back, haha.

To Boston.
May 18, 2009 || 10:55 PM || comment?

There are times when I let my imagination take more than a little bit of control. Usually these are times when I am driving for long lengths of time by myself, and sometimes when I'm at work. The other day, I was driving on the interstate, listening to some music, the air was on low. Usually I keep my windows rolled down, and have my hand hanging out the window, holding against the side of the car, and sometimes I hold the top part of my window. But because I'm on the interstate, it would really fuck up my hair (as if it already wasn't fucked up enough). There's still plenty of daytime left, with trees thickly lining both sides of the interstate. I'm probably doing 75 or 80. There is an old Mercedes station wagon type car, I've been following it for a while. I think it's a guy, he's got his hand outside the window, holding the top of the outer part of the window, just like I do sometimes. I wasn't aware of many people who did exactly that, though I do know some who like to hold their hands outside the window in general. I'm a little curious, and I want to take a better look at him. He's wearing a long sleeved shirt, and I think he has blond hair. I feel a little ridiculous for following him, he's in the right lane, while I'm in the left. I don't even know what his face looks like, and I'm clearly wanting to go faster, but I always stay short of passing him up (eventually we do part ways because he continues down I-110, while I need to take I-10).

While we're going around a little bend, a bird flies out from the trees, going across all alone. Why is there only one bird? What happened to the other birds? And suddenly, I kind of wish a T-Rex would come running out of the trees, and make his way across the interstate. I imagine that I would be the only person who knows what to do when encountering a T-Rex because I've watched all three Jurassic Park movies (but you really only need to watch the first one). I imagine this "fantasy" the most. In reality, it would REALLY suck to find out that some scientist decided to genetically engineer some dinosaurs, and would be undoubtedly life threatening to us all. But just imagine? I mean, how AWESOME would it be to see some dinosaurs. I think situations like that excite me for some reason, I guess because of the adrenaline rush they would provide.

When that T-Rex comes out, everyone would freak out, many might try to peel out and drive away really fast, so this might attract him. If he stands in the way, I imagine a lot of us would veer off into the grassy median, or brake real hard and hyperventilate. I'm not sure where or who the T-Rex would follow. I imagine that the guy in the Mercedes and I would both veer off the road, while the T-Rex is distracted on some other poor people, and together we'd get out of the car, make rushed introductions, and formulate a rough plan. I'm not sure why I assumed he'd be friendly or willing to come with me, but he's smart to know that being alone isn't a wise choice. Besides, I've seen Jurassic Park.

100 percentile, no errors, no miss.
May 15, 2009 || 2:29 AM || comment?

If I only was more human, I would count every single second the rest of my life..

What time is it now? Glancing at the clock, it looks like...shit. Only 11:05 AM. Already, I've been here for an hour. And for that same hour, I arranged card stock sheets in piles of five, I lined the sheets against the side of the paper cutter, I push down the "locking" arm that holds in place until I pull it up again. Then, I apply pressure with my palm, and slide the cutting wheel across, but it doesn't make a cut at all, so instead of going from left to right, I have to go from right to left. Two sheets are cut. Back and forth, two more sheets are cut, with an annoying small bit of the last sheet still attached to the upper half. I do this for three groups of five, fifteen pages of card stock. That's group one. Now for the group of fifteen that compliments what the cards in group one say. So far a total of thirty. And I do this for 10 more groups. I sliced through 300 pages today, all before 1:00 pm when I would help my first student review for his exam that's most likely on Monday. It's probably 12:20 pm now, and I'm feeling hungry. I change the time on the "CLOSED" sign to 12:45 and leave to get some lunch. I REALLY want sweet tea, so to Cane's I go. That line is longer than the lines when Oprah promised free fried chicken. Oh well. I don't have time to wait, only enough time to leave amidst the lunch rush traffic, no one lets me get into the turning lane so I have to straight through the traffic light and turn around in a gas station, then make it back to work. So I get Subway instead, and no sweet tea. Oh well. I am reminded how to do long/synthetic division when the first student comes in, we also worked on some FOILing and dividing monomials.

He leaves at around 2:45, and I have sometime until the next student. I finish eating the sandwich I left laying on the desk, with all of my hard work sitting around me. "Mathing" with your child. Counting, adding, grouping, fractions, money, shapes, measuring. I don't remember the others. What am I doing until she gets there? I don't remember that either. Fast forward to 5:30, when the last girl comes in for the day, it has been a long and slow day. Her worksheets are heavy on division, and it takes a little bit of time for her to finish them, so I get up, get some water, take all the cards I cut off the desk and surrounding computer area, and bring them to one of the tables and lay them out. I sit back down next to the girl, she still has about two or three rows of division left. Oh well. There's a black car sitting outside. I usually notice when someone leaves their car, but I don't ever remember seeing them leave their car. Is it the girl's parent just sitting and waiting the whole hour? I glance at the car a few times, trying to see through the tinted windshield, but to no avail. And if there is someone in there, they probably find me extremely rude for staring so much. So I stop looking. What if...they are waiting for me? I am always working by myself for hours at a time. The amount of traffic in the shopping area I work at is relatively high, but not behind the grocery store except for the mothers I see making their way to Pippin McGee to buy children's furniture. She's finally finished, I check her work, we go to the next section because that was just a warm-up page. Turns out she has more division. I start to worry more about the black car sitting outside, watching, waiting. What if someone decides to stalk me or follow me? If a strange person realizes I am a pretty much helpless girl working by herself always, and learns my schedule, and decides to wait for me to leave work one day? Usually by close there aren't any people on my end of the shopping area, because there's only two places behind the grocery store. Thinking about this, I don't think it would be hard for someone at all to try to do something like that. I wondered what would happen if the person in the black car was going to be that exact person, waiting for me to leave so they can rape me. I wonder how this would happen, strangely/scarily enough. I pictured different scenarios, one where I might be raped on the spot, nothing but cement, so I am getting scraped as well, maybe he is forcefully throwing me against the glass door of the empty lot to the left of our building. And maybe he has a knife? I don't imagine I'd have much of a chance to scream for help, he would probably threaten me with the knife, and I imagine how easily it would pierce my side, I feel this pain for a second and it makes my hands feel a little weak. Would I be simply left in my disheveled state or would they...try to dispose of me or kidnap me? I imagined that maybe I am left there, and I wonder if I would be able to give an accurate enough description of the man for justice. I wonder if a hospital would have emergency contraceptive pills. I'd probably need stitches for my side wound. This is assuming I am in one piece, and not run over by the car.

I'm not entirely sure what I thought about those things, in that much detail. Even though I was distracted from my work, the girl took a while anyways and once I came back to reality, she was just finishing her problems. By the way, the black car finally left. I don't know if it was a man or a woman, but it wasn't a parent of any of the kids.