Tagged: ramblings

Thought constellations

Jupiter threw me for a bit of a loop.

A little over two weeks ago, I got to go stargazing with some good friends. There were other groups there too that had brought their own equipment, including the standard telescopes as well as some gigantic binoculars on steroids. We could see a few constellations really clearly, and there was even the chance to see Jupiter’s stripes as well as four of its moons.  Continue reading

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It does not feel like Christmas.

As I type this, it does not feel like Christmas.

It may be fifty degrees outside, but the sun is glaring down onto the pavement.

The house may be smelling of pine trees and vanilla, but that’s only thanks to the candles that my sister has been obsessed with lighting lately- not the cookies we used to bake every year.

There may have been presents under the tree waiting to be unwrapped, but I don’t feel like I used to in elementary and middle school when it comes down to opening them. It used to be about getting to what was inside those folds of paper; now it’s more like I don’t want to see because seeing would mean that yet another Christmas has come and will pass.  Continue reading

Thoughts on a mysteriously busted water pipe.

Wacky Wednesday: Late Nights, Social Interaction, and Glorified Omelettes

First of all, am I even spelling “omelette” right?! Because I’ve seen it spelled both “omelet” and “omelette” and my autocorrect thing on the computer doesn’t mark it as wrong so I am very conflicted right now. I’m just going to go with the spelling of “omelette” for this particular post. But we’ll get to that later.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately (wow, what a big surprise here), and I’ve realized that late nights are the reason my sleep schedule is so messed up.

My mom always says, “well, if you get up early for enough times in a row, you’ll eventually get used to that pattern, and you’ll also fall asleep easier because you’ll be tired by the evening.” I’ve tried that. But the trouble is that a lot of the times, I’ll wake up at 6:00, look and see that I have the opportunity to sleep for a little longer (meaning, I COULD wake up, but if I slept for longer I still wouldn’t be late to school), and then I’ll just flop right back on the bed and sleep again. I also sometimes wake up early, go to school as a zombie, come back as a zombie, and pass out on the ridiculously comfortable couch in our living room for an hour or two before eating dinner and doing homework. The trouble with that system is that by the time I have to actually get to bed, I’m not tired due to the nap earlier on.

Whatever happens, I always seem to be stuck in this ridiculous cycle of wanting to sleep all day then not being able to sleep when I actually get the chance to, leading me to being something like this:

1285147464_sleepy-kitten

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Once Upon a Time: When I Discovered Procrastination

There’s just too much to do in life and not enough time to accomplish it.

Screen Shot 2014-03-19 at 4.41.48 PM

At least, that seems to be my excuse.

I was talking to my mom the other day, and she was telling me about how she watched a video (or read an article? I don’t quite remember to be honest) about procrastination, and the reason that people don’t get things done. According to whatever it was that she watched or read, the reason is the reasons.

At first I was a bit puzzled. I didn’t know at all what she meant. After all, procrastination is just finding reasons to do anything but the-

And that’s when I got it.

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My Fascination with Old Things

I have this weird obsession with old stuff.

I realized this when I went with my mom and my sister to this little shop in downtown. Well, actually, to be honest, I’ve kinda known it since I was a wee munchkin- I’ve just started embracing the weirdness now.

I’ve been a bit of a packrat since I was a little kid (just ask my mom). Whether it was an oddly-shaped box or a piece of string, I would stash it away in my room. And now, maybe four or five years later, I’m still finding little items from when I shoved them in the corners of my bookshelf or drawer.

Anywhoozals, my family and I were in this quaint little place that was like an art studio and gallery smushed into one. As soon as you walked in, there were multiple tall table-counter-things that had typewriters on them. There were stacks of paper next to these typewriters, and I just immediately had the urge to type on them.

I’ve found that I have this thing where I just get really excited about old vintage-looking stuff. Somehow typewriters, quills, and old cameras with real actual film in them make my imagination open up in different ways than it does with my computer. Maybe it’s because I start to feel like I’m in stories like Harry Potter where they write on parchment, or that I’m like Lemony Snicket in the way he writes the story of the Baudelaires on a typewriter. I don’t even know for sure, but old stuff gets me inspired.

What are some strange things that inspire you?

It’s a Passion for Trees

Just a quick little story I typed up on a whim. It had no outline or plan, it just started off as a writing prompt I found online and turned into something. It’s completely unedited, so excuse any typos, bad grammar, word choice, any of that fun stuff. I might just come back to it later on. (:

***

“Uh… I just… I just really like trees.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could think of a better excuse to why I was always spending my time up in the large tree’s branches.

Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Really, Conrad?”

I blinked. “Yeah, for sure! Trees are… Um… My passion.”

“Yeah. Totally. And I’m a magical pony.”

I shrugged. “Well, you are kinda-”

“Don’t say it.” A threatening finger was pointed in my face. I just laughed. Jenna is one of the strangest people I had ever met (and probably ever will meet in the future), but she is one of the people I can call my closest friends.

We stood in silence under the oak tree for a minute.

“So what’s up there?” Jenna finally asked again, gesturing upwards with her left thumb.

I glanced up into the branches uneasily. This was my tree. No one but me had ever been up there. I never even let my mom tell the gardener to trim the branches- actually, if those branches got trimmed, the secret would be revealed.

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