Week Seventeen: Easter eggs!

So, for a pagan-child like myself, Easter holds very little personal significance. My family does Ostara, and that happened AGES ago, back at the spring equinox.

That being said, my grandparents do, in fact, do Easter. We had them over this evening for dinner and egg coloring. I LOVE coloring eggs. Yes, I'm a nineteen year old young woman, and I love coloring eggs.

Here is a photo, and now I must go to sleep.



Sorry this was short, it'll be longer next week. I hope.

Busy times...

~Whimsy

Week Sixteen: Late Blog Is Late.

So, I'm late with my blog this week. (OHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO.)

This is the first time I've been late, so I think I'm doing pretty well. xD Looks like I'll have to wait for next year to get a full prefect attendance-blogging record.

Since I want to write this out before I have to go and work at the Town Hall running the video broadcasting software and I don't really have an IDEA for this bolg, I think I'll write and see what comes out.

PART ONE:
Lately, we've been converting the old Playroom into an art studio. It's more along the lines of what we need at this point in our lives, and all the games and whatnot are being either packed away, sent to friends or re-located to a place where they're more out of the way. It's awesome to see how the room looks with all the arts supplies in it, but what's kinda NOT awesome is the fact that my allergies act up when we're cleaning.
Having 5 cats and a beyond-furry dog means that there's animal hair EVERYWHERE, and that means that Whimsy sneezes. A lot.

PART TWO:
In the theatre class that I teach, we're putting on a little play with the younger kids (6-8). The kids wrote the story themselves, and I got cast as the Evil Queen.
Now, the Evil Queen* has captured a princess from a far-off land and an elf in her doungeon and is holding them hostage for the ransom of a THOUSAND POUNDS OF GOLD. Did I mention that she killed her nice, good, upstanding husband WAY before this story begins? Because that's how evil she is.

Keep in mind, the little ones wrote this. They wrote a story about a homicidal queen who has powers of FIRE. They come up to my hip. I have to TOWER over them and be EVIL AS I CAN BE. The first time, I told the little boy who's playing the part of the Good Wizard that I was going to be scary, but I wasn't going to be really mad at him. Now, he can't stop laughing when I'm being awful. It's really cute. xD

PART THREE:
There are now four days left until the new series of Doctor Who starts. I am so excited, I can barely stand it. I've watched all of New!Who, but I think I love the Eleventh Doctor the best. There's just something about him...I can't quite say what it is. So, yes. Much excitement over that. AND, I'm re-watching (for me)/watching for the first time (for my mums) the whole of Doctor Who from 2005 onwards. We've just moved on to the Tenth Doctor. Watching it with my mum is just FANTASTIC**.

PART FOUR:
I'm still working on editing my NaNoWriMo novel, and I've added 5,000 words since November. I'm so very pleased, and even though it's going slowly, at least it's going. Some days are better than others, but at least it's moving. I've been tossing around titles, but nothing's stuck yet.
Also, since there's only 195 days left until NEXT NaNo, I've been beginning to think about that, too.

PART FIVE:
And, to wrap this nice long rambling blog up, I've re-discovered a letter from one of my old nerdfighter pen-pals. I'm collecting a HUGE letter to go to her, (my hand-written letters average around six or seven pages), and it's nice to get back in touch with her, since we dropped out of touch for freakin' AGES.

I'll see you again before Sunday night, and have a charming week!
~Whimsy


*Hahahha, just mistyped that as "the Evil Queer". I'm going to crawl off in my corner and hyperventilate from hysterics now.
**Sorry, I had to. It was FACT.

Week Fifteen: Family

Family and community are concepts that (for me) lay incredibly close, at times intertwined. I don't have just one family, I have many.

My family is Mum, Nay, and Nessa (my sister, younger than me by three years.) We live in the same house, we talk all the time about everything, and we're all very, very close. Ever since I was born, it's pretty much been child-led anarchy over at my house. I love all of them dearly. (And they actually read this blog. Hello, family!) I tend to call them "my fambly", both in text and when I'm talking about them.

In addition to them, I have my (slightly more extended) family, including, but not limited to, my Grandma, my Pepe, his partner, and two great aunts. My family might be small, but the amount of love is anything but. These are the people with whom I burst at the seams to share good news.

If you've ever done theatre, I'm sure you're acquainted with the term "theatre family". I've had dozens of these over the years, since each show that you're a part of is different, the theatre family changes with each production.

There's my spiritual family, the group I've been meeting with eight times a year for over thirteen years. Even though I only see most of them at the celebrations, that certainly doesn't diminish the connection we all have.

Leave a comment talking about YOUR families) below! I'm quite interested!

Cheers!
~Whimsy

P.S. I'm now nineteen. Happy birthday to me! ^___^

Week Fourteen: Whimsy Has A Birthday!

This will be my last day, and last blog post as an 18 year old. While that's kind of weird, mostly it's really exciting. I always get really excited around my birthday.

I suppose it's because every year since I can ever remember, birthdays have been a big deal at my house.
When I was really little, we had birthday parties.
I have such great memories of those parties. One year, I wanted a puppy party. We ate party mix "kibbles and bits" from dog bowls, had large cardboard boxes to crawl inside, and we played fetch. Seriously, it was a little kid's idea of heaven. The photos from that party are ADORABLE. We've all got our faces painted, wearing pasta-necklace collars and we're wearing fake-fur ears.
Since we're a pretty dramatic theater-type family, birthday parties were always some sort of a production.
My sister's Winnie-The-Pooh party was another party I won't forget. We all got Pooh characters to portray, and I got Tigger. To get in character for this, I bounced EVERYWHERE. And I mean everywhere. Until I twisted my ankle. Bouncing got harder.

That's sort of how I've thrown myself into whatever it is at the time that I'm doing. Wildly excited, overly enthusiastic, a ice cream sundae of hyperactivity. And I love it.

This year, I'm going out to a used bookstore in the morning, and coming back in the evening to watch tons of Doctor Who and have a skype/blogTV party with my friends*.
This year, just as when I was six, I am bouncing with anticipation around the kitchen.
Let's hope I don't twist my ankle this time. ^__^

OhDearieMeTomorrowIsMyBirthday,
Whimsy

*Hey, when your friends live all over the world (and most are in NARNIA, or some such baloney), a skype party is the best kind of party to have.