two thousand and thirteen things

I wrote this a while as a recap of last year, but then forgot to post it. So... yeah.

January.

Les Misérables and Homestuck and digital art and the monotony of January. Cold weather and clouds that last long enough to make everything feel hopeless. Your visit your old school and your best friend and her boyfriend at their Homecoming and you feel like she is replacing you and it's the worst feeling in the world. 

February.
D-now at your friend's church, and all your other friends are there, but then when she wins a prize for having brought the most people you wonder if that was really why she invited you. There's a scavenger hunt involving finding roadkill and you all gather around a dead raccoon and sing Amazing Grace. You go see a movie about zombies with two of your best friends and the memory of how fun it was sticks in your mind for a long time, even now. You wish that could happen more. 

March.

You cry when you watch Titanic, and you cry when your friends pour out their hearts to you because there's no way you could ever make them stop feeling sad. A fabulous birthday party is followed a not-so-fabulous reunion in a shopping mall with your best friend, who breaks your heart and you are speechless. Your brother becomes an adult and you wonder at the feeling. Every Sunday night you watch a TV show called Vikings, and you remember the events of each week by the events of the show that week. You become friends with someone from your school who you never thought you'd get to know, but by now you can't really imagine not being friends with them. You just really want the school year to be over. Doctor Who comes on again, and it is perfect.

April.

An art show and a number - 413. You see your dear great aunt, who is in the hospital and will not be returning home. You are alone on an airplane for the first time, and the experience is completely boring. 

May.

You get a haircut. You love it. You love The Great Gatsby and you hate the AP Biology exam and you love going to an anime convention with your best friends in the world. You doubt that you will ever have the same amount of fun ever again. You dress up as Rose Lalonde from Homestuck and you meet lots of other Homestuck cosplayers and everyone is smiling and having the time of their lives. There are ramen noodles and ramune and new friends. It's summer - you've made it.

June.
You go to camp. This is your seventh year and it feels like home, just like it always does. You have missed your camp friends so much, and seeing them again makes you wonder why you never actually try to see them outside of camp. It's your ex-best friend's birthday. You don't hear a peep from her. She doesn't here a peep from you. Your friends are scheming to get you into a relationship with a certain person. And somehow you aren't opposed to the idea of that, no matter what you tell yourself.

July.

You are bitten by the anime bug - Attack on Titan and Free. You never thought it would catch you. Your cousin comes down for a few weeks, and you can't believe how much he's grown. He's taller and his voice is deeper, but he's actually the exact same person inside. You hope he never changes in that way. He plays on his i-pad and takes you geocaching and you watch Phantom of the Opera, and then you go to Canada to visit his house and every day is the depth of summer. Making slushies and biking to a park nearby and watching Community for at least five hours a day and drinking tea and working on Wreck This Journal. You go paintballing. It hurts a lot. You run a 5K - the Color Run. Afterward, you have a water fight in the backyard to get all the color off.

August.
You go to a random town in the middle of nowhere with your dad because some actress was born there. You listen to Welcome to Night Vale. Band camp. Wow, you are really, really bad at spinning a flag. It is so hot outside. Your arms are always sore. Your skin is always burned. You make new friends and you learn a lot but you are always painfully aware of how weak your skills are, even to this day. For someone who is really confident, you sure do lack confidence. Then is the band trip to a nearby amusement park, and it's one of the best days of the year to you. You go on lots of rides and you foster new friendships and you find out how not to have a relationship with someone else. School starts. It is your second-to-last year of school. Your birthday brings you a charm bracelet and a shattered phone and a trip to the movies on a school night. 

September. 
Homework and band competitions. You freaking love Marching Band. More homework.

October.

You have finally realized that your ex best friend is just that. You begin to realize that there is someone new who makes you feel like every nerve in your body is charged with electricity. Why would you spend time with your sucky ex-best friend when people like him exist in the world? You go to the fair and there are bunnies, and that makes the experience entirely worth it - well, that and the fact that you get to spend a whole day with two of your favorite people, and then later in the day you change groups and now you're with two of your other favorite people and their favorite people and it is all so much fun, but you just keep thinking back with wonder on how that person makes you feel. 

November.
November has always been your favorite month. This November feel fulls of waiting. Waiting for Christmas, waiting for the promise of snow, waiting to see what happens with this person and you. You march in a parade and the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special is disappointing. You visit Washington D.C. - Mount Vernon and the American Girl Place. You love big cities. 

December. 
Exams happen, and then other things happen. You go see The Hobbit with your friends and the person is there, and it's perfect. After that they all come to your house and you play dumb hide-and-seek and then they open the presents you gave them - stuffed animals. A tyrannosaurus, a polar bear, a koala, and a walrus. You eat a ton of cupcakes. It's a lot of fun. The next night you're talking to your person about how much you want to see Pacific Rim and then he says let's go see it sometime and you say real question: are you asking me out? and he says possibly. however, i would rather not do it over texting because that is horribly reminiscent of things i heard of in middle school. So basically, he is perfect, and you've been asked out for the first time in your life. You don't really stop thinking about him when you go to Canada over Christmas break, and you really hope you won't ever regret everything that you feel about him. 

ehhh what

It's about time I made a post. What am I doing with my life?

Currently, stressing out about school.

I keep listening to this because it's perfect and George Blagden is perfect:

I've been... I dunno. Lots of things have been happening. 

I saw Frozen and it was perfect. 

I don't really know what else to say. I should write some stuff later - add another installment to the Burgess story.

I'll go now. Listen to George Blagden. Be happy. :3

8 - new.

I figure I should make one more post before the year ends. 

Current thoughts:
- I did not write any Christmas-related stories this month. What is wrong with me?
- I keep thinking back to December 19 because that was the day exams ended and I saw The Hobbit with my great friends and they came to my house and we had soo much fun because Christmas and friendship and feelings. And the next day was the day I got asked out for the first time ever and heh honestly I will never be over that, ever.
- I can't wait to get home so I can text my person. And all my persons. I'm tired of being here.
- I did not make any Christmas blogs this year and that was silly of me.
- 2013 has been a crazy year.
- I just really hope that everything between us works out okay. And I hope that things stay okay for as long as they possibly can.

Happy new year, lovelies. <3

7 - vacation, so far, in a nutshell

Christmas is such a memorable time of year. There are so many feelings involved, so many memories. It all just makes me want to cry.

The past few days - the past few weeks - heck, this whole year has been overwhelming. But specifically the past few days have been a little crazy, and I'm just sitting here listening to English Rain on repeat and trying to believe everything that has happened. Trying to make sure that I'm not going crazy. I feel simultaneously really happy and really afraid, like I'm going to ruin everything. 

But I'm leaving for Canada today, so I can't talk now. I'll write as much as I can while I'm there - I'll explain everything. We'll see how much internet access I can get. :3

For now, listen to this song. It's a really nice song. 

Merry Christmas!

6 - a very important day.

He asked me out.

4 - Improbable Goings On in the Burgess Stop n' Save, part 5

- Sparrow - 

   I take in the room as Cas bustles around in the tiny kitchen. It's very cozy. There's a TV mounted on the wall across from me, and fairy lights are strung up around the room. They give everything a mellow glow. 
   The walls are papered in some soft, dark reddish color that reminds me of Christmas. In front of me is a long, rectangular coffee table, surrounded on all sides by comfy-looking seating arrangements - plush couches, small armchairs, and a single wooden chair. Next to the kitchen door is a cube-shaped TV on a tall square cart. I peer past it just as Cas emerges from beyond the doorframe, carrying two paper cups. He hands me one with a smile.
    "Thanks," I murmur, accepting it with both hands. Heat bursts into my palms, and I peer into the cup to see a rich, dark, steamy, fragrant liquid - hot chocolate. It smells incredible. I wait to take a sip so that I don't scorch my tongue.
    Cas moves around to the other side of the coffee table, preparing to carefully sit down on one of the comfy-looking couches across from me. He settles there, blowing carefully on his hot chocolate. Then he looks up at me and notices my watching him. His face breaks into an unrestrained smile, like a little kid's, and I really want to look away or blush or laugh nervously. But instead I just smile back. 
     I look down at my hot chocolate. The surface swirls with bubbles, and I take a tiny sip. It's cooled down enough to not burn me, and it's delicious. 
    "So . . . how've you been, Sparrow?" asks Cas. He sips his own hot chocolate, his eyes straying around the room. I'm curled up on the couch, but Cas is leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, with his hands and his drink on his knees. 
    "I've been good," I reply, not giving it any real thought. "How you come you're working today? Don't you have school?"
    He shrugs. "Today was a teacher workday or something. We had the day off." 
    I nod, still looking at my hot chocolate. "Do you always work on days off?"
    "Basically," he says. "I enjoy it. More so than the average person." He punctuates his last statement with a small laugh, and I like the sound. I like everything about Cas.
    For a while we sit there in easy conversation until the hot chocolate is gone. When I look at my phone, forty-five minutes have passed. 
    "I should probably call my mom," I tell Cas, wondering why she hasn't made any attempts to contact me. "She'll probably be wondering where I am." 
    I call home and her cell, but don't get anywhere. The snowstorm must be messing with my signal. "She's not answering," I tell Cas. 
    He raises his eyebrows once as he takes a sip of his third hot chocolate. Then he puts the cup down on the coffee table. "Do you think she's okay?"
    I feel a small jolt of fear. "I don't know." 
    Cas watches me for a moment. "Let me go check on the storm," Cas says as he stands up, disappearing out the door. 
    When he gets back, I've been twiddling nervously with my phone. My mom just won't pick up. 
     "It's still really bad outside," he tells me, and this time he sits down next to me on the couch. Some kind of thrill goes through me. I don't think anyone has ever willingly gotten this close to me, aside from my mother. I scooch away the tiniest bit, but still - his presence makes me relax and seems to charge all my nerves at the same time. 
      "My mom didn't answer," I say, turning my knees toward him so that I can see him.
       He shrugs. "Maybe she had to take a quick spin in her TARDIS."
       I laugh and instantly feel better. "Yes. We definitely have a TARDIS. It's in the upstairs linen closet."
      "Well, remember to show me the upstairs linen closet next time I come to your house," he smiles.
      Is Cas coming to my house? Cas is coming to my house. I'm having someone over at my house.
     "Well, if… If you're going to drive me home, maybe you can come in for a little while." My voice seems to shiver. "My mom'll probably want to meet you. She doesn't often… meet my friends." I don't often have people over at my house, if that's not obvious. 
     Cas smiles. He looks down at his fingers. "Yeah, okay."
     "Yeah, okay," I say in finality, smacking my palms against my knees. 
     My eyes drift to the TV. 
     "Hey, are there any movies in the kitchen or something?" I ask, motioning to the television. "Maybe in those cabinets."
      He shrugs. "Possibly. I can go check it out-"
      "No, I will this time," I offer, standing up and moving toward the kitchen. I'm curious.
      Once beyond the doorway, there's basically a tiny corridor of a kitchen. White cabinets on the top and bottom with a counter in the middle, and at the end, a yellow wall having numerous picture frames, with a water dispenser in the corner. I look closely at the picture frames. There are six of them going diagonally down the wall, and the photos are full of people - the employees of the Burgess Stop n' Save. I scan the photos for Cas and I find him in the fifth and sixth pictures, smiling in the second row both times. His smile always seems sincere. Under the label for his name, I can see that he has been the Employee of the Month for a consecutive seven months - apparently a company record. Seriously, with his level of dedication, how is he not manager yet?
      I turn away from the photos and open a few of the top cabinets, looking for some movies of some sort. There are many boxes of coffee cups and coffee stirrers and packets of sugar. Under the counter I find a box of Goldfish packages, and I two. A snack.
      When I emerge, Cas is squinting at the remote. He selects a button, aims it at the TV, and presses down on it hard. Static greets us.
      "No channels," he says.
      "No movies," I reply. I toss him the Goldfish and sit down slowly on the couch, looking at the TV. "Maybe we should check outside."
      Cas pauses to consider the thought. Then a look of sheer realization spreads over his face, and he turns to me all of a sudden, like he's about to share a revelation. His blue eyes are wide.
      "Sparrow", he states in a low voice. "We are alone. In a grocery store. Think of the possibilities."  He opens his arms and spreads them wide. 
      He is right. We are the rulers of this grocery store. How many times was the idea of being alone in a mall or some store, with free reign of the whole place, the subject of my childhood daydreams? And why didn't I realize this an hour ago?
       "You're right," I breathe, looking toward the door. Beyond it lies a world of things… and dead security cameras.
       He glances at it, then back at me. Now his smile has turned devilish. I can hardly believe that the reigning consecutive Employee of the Month would even think of doing something wrong to his grocery store, but Cas is surprising me each minute.
       He grabs my hand and pulls me off the couch, and we both laugh with delight as we head into some sort of adventure.

3 - rowena

 This was some English exercise about growing up and I got slightly carried away.

   
   She was born under a starless December sky. Her eyes were a blue as cold as the ice that lined the streets, and as bright as the lights from the cars that skated over them in the darkness. They wrapped her in blankets and tucked her tiny feet into fuzzy little socks to protect them from the cold. Her name was Rowena. 

    She lived in a small house made of smooth wood and soft carpets and candles and windows. The world outside was nearly always pale with snow, or clouds, or both. With her toddler feet clad in clunky rubber boots and her torso encapsulated in a puffy coat, she'd step into the great outdoors, resembling a marshmallow or a child whose parents were cautious and loving. She loved the snow since the very beginning. She loved the family dog – fluffy, huge, and with a bark as resonant as a bass drum.

    She got older and her tawny-colored hair got longer. Soon she was in school – sitting at a desk painted to look like wood, surrounded by manufactured warm air and blackboards. She liked books, though. The pages were always soft under her fingers. She disliked the whiny voice of the teacher, and she disliked math. The sight of the bright yellow worksheets always made her squirm.

    Years passed. Rowena was twelve and she carried a backpack that weighed her down as if the snowy ground was trying to suck her into the underworld. Sometimes boys with feathery messy hair and crooked mean grins and voices that cracked every few words would ask her why she always spent her time reading instead of speaking, and when she looked at them indifferently they'd laugh and walk off. They'd dismiss her as a nerd. They made her realize that her indifference was turning to insecurity.   When they bothered her, she'd sit outside on the porch chair and crush snowballs in her mittened hands as if they were her worries, and as if getting rid of them was that easy.

     Rowena was fifteen and everyone was vibrating with the weird energy of adolescence. Everyone was acting like they were too old for themselves and once she caught her best friend kissing someone else she cared about under the bluish light of the staircase leading to the library, and she whirled around and ran out of school like the Alaska winds were causing her to fly. The tears froze to her reddened cheeks. She tripped in the driveway and her jeans tore and her skinned knee leaked cherry red onto the ice and she cried and felt unbelievably hurt and stupid. Rubbing the wound with snow numbed the pain somewhat.

    Rowena was nineteen and she happily left behind the old brick school where she had grown up in favor of one where she could read all the time and people wouldn't scoff. She missed her parents, and she missed careless snow days at home.

    Upon graduating, she moved to a city where the sun was blazing hot and snow was nothing more than a zamboni driver's wildest dream. She got used to trading fur-lined boots in for strappy sandals, and to giving up hot chocolate for lemonade. She married a man who had eyes like starlight and a laugh like birdsong. Their house became full of books and children.

    It was a long time before she remembered the snow again.