She always believed in that fantasy world of hers

Here’s a strange thing… me.

So I’m still ridiculously busy, sue me. I’ve also become quite cynical and crabby in my old age. I’m thinking of killing everyone I know, because that will make them shut up already.

Seriously, I cannot wait for the day when I’m self-supported enough to just pick up and fucking leave. To not tell anyone where I’m going, how to contact me, or how long I’ll be gone. Just be gone. I like being alone so much these days, it’s like my comfort blanket. No matter what, no matter how much someone promises you or how much you trust in them, the only one that really matters is yourself. At least at this age, at my age.

I’m starting to get social with a certain group and they’re bugging me already. I’m finding incredible immaturity in college. Everyone is challenging with half-thought half-assed ideas and weak theories. When you try and rationally explain, they talk over you, as though that wins an argument. Please. Grow up. Oh yeah, I’m getting really, really cynical. Why not? These people have proven themselves unworthy of my presence, and so I’m devoting myself to my novel again. I observe and, for the moment, that’s enough.

I’m buying myself a leather journal tomorrow and a few special pens so that I can get to writing everything down in a linear order. I like the idea of first having a hand-written edition of something that will later be put to computer and later to printed page and later… we’ll see. I’m going to go to that evil conglomerate… B&N because they have some of the best leather journals that I know of, and large enough to suit my needs. Whenever I go to a Borders they seem to have these little itsy bitsy teensy weensy excuses for journals. I’m looking for a LEDGER. You know, one of those great big things that you slam down on a table and all the other papers go flying off along with a cloud of dust.

At least in my mind.

Mmmm… pretty. I love blank pages.

Saturday I have a map test in History. Defining the territories of the Native Americans, the different battle places and the original states, along with bodies of water and whatnot. I’m practicing a bit, but not enough. It’s cram time. It accounts for 25% of the grade and I’m amazingly blasé about the entire thing. I wish I weren’t.

Spanish is going swimmingly, in a way. No, don’t ask me how to say shit, you’ll just irritate me.

My, I’m in a mood today.

I’m thinking of chopping the rest of my hair off. It’s pissing me off to. I’m thinking… why not one inch? I could spike it, and use less shampoo. It would save me money. Anyway, it’ll teach all the boys that are interested a lesson. If they want long hair, they have to grow it to. This cannot be a one-sided affair. Lazy bastards.

Alright, I’m gone. Toodles.

-Lady Teigra-

That blasted Tower.

Oh.

My.

God.

OH MY GOD.

...OH MY GOD!

That's the most I've used the word "god" in a long time.

Holy shit!

I just finished listening to the audio books of Stephen Kings Dark Tower Series. Finally. I've been reading these books since I was twelve.

HOLY SHIT!!!

These books have a supreme significance for me. For one thing, they are some of the only books by Stephen King I will actually read. I don't like him, damn it. He's too popular and it pisses me off... because I'm jealous. Yeah, jealous. I said it. Finally.

Anyway, I just finished reading THE DARK TOWER SERIES by STEPHEN KING (mentioned that, haven't I?). If you have not read this series--well, I don't entirely blame it. It's ridiculously long. AND FRIGGEN GOOD SO PICK IT UP GODS CURSE YOU!

And if your too lazy to read it, get the audio book from the library (if you're poor like me) or buy it off eBay or just go to your local mega-chain bookstore and shell out $40 for each copy. Hats off to you for that, you rich bastards.

Sorry, I'm being insulting again but I cannot really help it. I feel like cursing up a storm, a big sooty-black clouded storm that rains all over everyone's parade.

I've been listening to book VII (Seven, for those of you slow on the uptake) and it's been ridiculously distracting. I've been sleeping in the guest bedroom/office so I can listen to the audio book on my computer while I fall asleep. I've been dreaming of Roland's and Susannah's and Eddie Dean's and Jake Chamber's and Oy's. And fish, for some odd reason...

There's something about this story that is ridiculously compelling to me. The bits that Stephen King throws in about himself, the bits the SK writes in the prefaces and afterwards about how he FEELS when he writes the story, about what it means to him...

I read Stephen Kings "On Writing" and, for the most part, it described my process, though mine is a little different in aspects. Still, writing is something that I feel I do because I was given the task of doing it, not because I woke up one morning when I was nine years old and said, "Hey, I want to write for a living". No, the stories were always there, they've been there for years beyond measure and before I was born, I'm only here because I have the ability to listen and to put pen to paper, keyboard to screen. It sounds hocky, I know, but it's how I FEEL, it is what I KNOW.

When Stephen King writes about himself in the stories, writes of how the voices sing to him, speak to him, how he knows that there are other worlds then these... well, it strikes a true cord in my heart. I feel kinship to this man I have never known and will likely never know, for I suspect his passing will come before or soon after I finally publish a finished work.

So the Dark Tower books, to me, are something of a religious thing. Almost. Not quite--scratch that. They're spiritual. That's all. And I know that one day I will spin a yarn that will be as the Dark Tower was to Stephen King. A master story, if you will. It's already in progress, and has been since a strange dream on the eve of my eleventh birthday. Dreams are my way into writing and always have been. Do not ask me to explain, because the way I just wrote it is the best I've put it so far. I know that my story is not the Dark Tower and a small sliver of me feels envy in that, but not really. The Dark Tower was King's story to tell, and he told it well. "Say true, say thankya." I only hope I can spin the tale I need to spin with the same dexterity as he.

I am glad that I have finished it, for I feel that this is my year. I don't know why, and a rational part of my mind is whispering caution against making statements such as these. That I do not know anything for certain and never have, but I have an INCLING. That's enough for me at most times.

What does that mean? My year? Everything and nothing. Everything and nothing.

Ah...

School is good but the homework has piled again. I'm going to be studying most of the night away tonight when I'm not doing laundry and cleaning up the condo a bit. The office stays remarkably clean, I think because it is my workspace and I must keep the place I work clean. The rest of the place is a mess. I must do laundry before I drown in dirty clothes.

And shower.

My first Spanish test is on Monday and I have two chapters in History to read and two in Anthropology as well. History is on Saturday, early morning, so I'm going to jump that hurdle first if I can, and then move to Spanish to study well and good and then onto Anthropology, which comes rather naturally since it is my favorite subject. Still, History is proving to be quite fascinating. Who knew?

Alright, alright, I feel I've talked enough. Hello, hello, to all of those I have not said hello to for a while. Please allow me this time to be in my own space, for there is much I have to do and I get overwhelmed easily these days. Sometimes the stress of handling almost everything on my own gets to me in a strange way. Feels like a great, crushing vice on my head. Other times I'm fine. Most of the time anyway.

I'm writing again. It feels lovely.

Goodbye, all, and until next time,

-Lady Teigra-

Every time it rains, I feel her holding me.

Wow. Holy shit. Here I am.

Yeah...

I still do not have internet access on my new computer. And since it is so shiny and new, I don't want to leave it. Having one of those windscreen flatscreens has really messed up my vision on my CRT monitor here--I keep thinking "Has it shrunk?".

I'm listening to music on my new pretty speakers on my new pretty computer. One day I will update to surround sound speakers for my computer, but God knows my neighbors will hate me then. I suspect they already do, and all I have is a subwoofer.

I started school Monday, and have class again tonight. Already piling on the homework, so I'm quite unlikely to carve out time to do much blogging. If I do, I shouldn't, so every time you see me I'll be chiding myself later, "Bad Teigra--more studying!"


I hemorrhaged about $375 for my course books. Ugh! Like a knife in the gut, that's what it felt like. That was groceries for more then a month! Two months!

Well, I was given a grand total of $675 last week for a paycheck sine I'm building my employer a website. After paying for the books, the website domain, and buying a new desk for my new computer, and groceries... I have $1.14 left in my bank.

Isn't that fun??

Well, today is a "Spare the Air" day, which means the VTA is all free and stuff. Great. Frees me up another five bucks in cash. I love Spare the Air days.

I got a haircut, too. I'm shorter now, by the insistence of my hairdresser. She said, "How long has it been since you were in a hairdressers?"

"... two years?"

"Yeah, it looks it."

So she chopped off about four inches, saying she was "cutting off the damage". Then did this trim thing to my bangs because last year I had a horrible accident with a cigarette lighter that left my front hair much shorter then my back. She fixed me up right and proper. Thank god. I was tired of slicking that little tuft in place with some hair gel. I hate hair gel.

But now I can wear pig tails without looking like a porn star, which is good. I like pig tails.

Oi. My fingers are hurting me, and I have to shower before school (It's bloody HOT!). I'll, um...

Well, you know me. I leave for unidentifiable amounts of time. I'm really bloody busy.

I'm working...

Going to school...

Oh, and, writing a novel...

Yeah, I'm hellaciously busy. And I still have something of a social life! How do I do it? Four to five hours of sleep, that's how.

Ta ta,

-Lady Teigra-

P.S.--

Sunday is my nineteenth birthday, just as a heads up. I don't think anyone around here remembers it... I forget too. So, yeah... what's nineteen supposed to be, anyway? Silly number.

I don't want to live inside this daydream anymore

Well, I've been on an unoficial hiatus.

My shiney new computer arrived and the Dell guys made two errors. One, they forgot my floppy drive. Another, they forgot a regular 56K modem so I can use my dialup. They included a wireless card! Like, what am I going to do with that? There's an ethernet jack as well, so I'll be updating to DSL soon... ish.

As is, I'm transfering files between one computer and the next to use the internet. Right now I'm sprawled on the floor of my office typing, and I keep making the basic key stroke mistakes. Garh.

Tonight I should have my old 56K modem installed in my new computer, which should have me on the internet on my new computer (A.K.A.-Glorificus) by later. That's a lot of shoulds, but you know how it goes.

Oh, and, ah... I finished HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS.

...

Ta,

-Lady Teigra-

He had a lot of nothing to say, we'll miss him.

Well.

I'm reading a pirated copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Realizing that I needed to buy text books and cat food and human food before I could budget in the new HP book, I decided to go the cheap route--FOR NOW. I always buy what I pirate--this will be no exception.

Anyway, the copy I have has wordsrunningtogetherlikethis, which is really annoying when you have to pause, stop, and re-read what you just read because you're not sure if you got the words right. Not all the sentences are like that, but a great many are. Still, I'm about seventy pages in and I was reading for about an hour last night. I would have read longer but I'm sitting in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair for my office chair. Still, I kind of like having the book more at eye level then it usually is.

But I will be abstaining from reading most blogs for fear of spoilers. I've heard nothing about the book so far--but I've also been readily avoiding television, radio, and internet programs that might let things slip. I never did like spoilers.

Just as a little mini rant--my sister has not bothered to read the Harry Potter books. OK, she's read to book four, but only part way through. My sister is getting sucked into the wonders of the internet (Neopets, GaiaOnline, MySpace, YouTube) and thusly is neglecting her literary interests. She says, "They're boooring." To which I gape at her and say, "Are you really my sister?"

Three, four years ago she was showing every inclination of being a book worm. Now she's becoming like every other twelve year old girl with a high speed internet connection--and yes, I blame the high speed internet connection.

When my sister comes over to stay at my place, I ban her from using the internet--simply because she'll only use the aforementioned sites, and that they will crash my poor slow dial-up connection. She's not allowed to read the manga's, because that is all she reads at home. I tell her, "Read BOOKS. Actual books. Then get back to me."

When I was her age I was starting to get into Anne Rice (I know, I know, but I was TWELVE) and Garth Nix and some Neil Gaiman. I started to read some of the classic literary pieces, starting with War & Peace (because it was the biggest book in our library and I loved carrying it around), then moving onto some of the darker horror classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, The Portrait of Dorian Gray, etc. I still read books geared at young adults, but most of them had to do with the same dark, macabre stories like I just mentioned. They were also the older young adult books.

I enjoyed this time in my life. From about eleven to seventeen I was reading as much as I could lay my hands on. I knew, intuitively, that I would not have as much time for reading when I got out into the real world and, guess what? I don't. It really sucks.

I hate to see my sister squander this time she has that she could be reading piles upon piles of novels, short stories, plays and poems. Not only squander it--but squander it chatting for God's sake. Playing games for fake gold. That's something I got into when I was sixteen and I realized what an absolute waste of time it was before my seventeenth birthday. I still play some of the games on Neopets--but only because they're fun to play. Ultimate Bullseye rocks!

Anyway...

I'm worried about my sister. She shows no inclination towards, well, anything. Not art, reading, science, math, nursing, anything. She has a variety of health issues she will have to deal with on her own, with her own finances, when she is older. She needs to find her passion so she can actually work doing something that she loves to do. The only thing that she has said she enjoys is animals, but she has shown that she only likes the loving side of animals, so she would not be cut out to be a vet--at least not yet.

My sister has been whining lately that no one is paying attention to her and, you know, I'm quite tired of it. I'm her sister, I've let her know, and not her mother or her father. I'm the bully big sister that's going to make sure she eats her proper amount of calories and that she exercises and reads and has in depth conversation on various topics. I'm appalled with how much her mother and that family spoil her; and I know she's young, but damn it. So was I. I had gone through just as much in emotional pain as my sister has in physical pain. I was not spoiled, I was pushed. I want to push her to do something.

Interesting how this topic changed from books to my sister. I cannot help it, though, she's one of my passions. I'm severely interested in this little blondlings ambition and life determination.

I've noticed that the Middle Class families around here--California, Silicon Valley--seem to have produced a singular type of person. A teenager/young adult that does not have any ambition, seeks only for the momentary fulfillment, and will never try, unless pressed beyond belief, to put in anything other then half-assed work. My friend James is almost twenty-two and still living with his parents. Not just that, but he's had a free ride--why did he not go to college? Does he expect to live off his parents in their house his entire life?

I suppose situations like mine, and similar if less extreme, produce that type of people that will actually go out and get things done. But those who have lived a pampered life seem to strive to nothing but the same thing--an easy coast through life.

What fun is that?

Struggle and pain and loss is what makes all the shiny things extra shiny.

Maggio il vostro amore di luce non penetrare l'oscurità della notte,

-Lady Teigra-

She was living in a single room

I have the cutest cat in all the world.

Here he is cuddling up to me under my computer desk, something he's only recently done. How sweet is that?

Much love to my Constant Companion. His sixth birthday was last month.

Wish I knew what you were looking for....

I found this picture in my digital camera (again, an ancient piece of equipment). It's dated from last night, though I do not remember taking it. I do remember putting on makeup, something I never really do, but not the photo...

Odd...