BEDA, Day 31: A mishmosh; goodbye for now...

This is my last BEDA post.

I would like to thank you all for joining me on this crazy ride. It's been a month of insanity, as life usually is.

I hope that you end this month feeling like you know me a bit better than you did at the beginning of the month.

What a truly great time this has been. I am going to miss BEDA, I really am.

But wait!
Just because BEDA is over, doesn't mean that I will stop writing blog posts!
Oh heck no! I really love writing these, and there is no reason at all for me to stop.
I won't be posting EVERY DAY, but I'd like to post somewhere around once or twice a week.

Tomorrow, Hogwarts term starts. This has always seemed to me to be the End Of Summer. Since I don't go to school, I judge the time where the schoolkids are going back to school with the time where Harry Potter and company are gettin' back to Hogwarts.

For the day before September, it's quite hot here. All the cats are stretched out along the floor...hot cats are adorable. They get all floppy and melted. Sorta like chocolate. Mmmmm, chocolate cats.

Oh! I changed the way I look quite a bit from the last photo you all saw of me.
Here's an updated version of The Whimsy. Yes, that's a sock puppet. His name is Polonious. Polonious Maxwell Aldabert, if you want the full name.
Yes, yes, yes. I know that it LOOKS like I have blue hair, but it looks green in person sometimes, and sometimes it looks teal. Or aquamarine...

I suppose that's all from me.

I hope your August was splendid, and that your September shines with AWESOME.

Happy today, dear readers!

~Whimsy

BEDA, Day 30: The Return of the Whimsy!

So, BEDA-ians. This is my next-to-last BEDA post!

I had a wonderful time at the unschooling conference, I really did.

I went to talks, made new friends, re-connected with old ones, gave out a million and one hugs, did the Time Warp (again) and danced madly with many awesome people.

I sang, played guitar, frolicked, saw live music, played theater games, tie-dyed and made art.

I talked about books, writing, unschooling, college, LGBT whatnot, facebook, twitter, activist things, philosophy, religon, education and more.

I played Werewolves (like mafia) until 4 in the morning, I made a duct tape rose, swapped out old things for new things, watched a talent show, learned some sign language, and had an amazing time.

Nobody asked me if I had friends, or what grade I was in, or if I was going to college, or why I wasn't in school.

It was great.

I am tired now, since the earliest I got to bed during the whole trip was 2:30am, even though I slept until ONE IN THE AFTERNOON today.

So many people who I get to see not enough. Ah, such is life, and in my life, too many friends in my life live far too far away for me to hop in the car and drive out to see them.

BEDA, Day 29: You aren't supposed to see this post.

If you are seeing this post, that means that:

A: I am too tired to drag my lazy body over to the laptop to create a better post.

B: I haven't gotten home yet.

C: I have been eaten by rabid wolves.

D: I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, years too late, but am off at Diagon Alley.

E: The mothership arrived and I got on it.

F: I could write a post, but it would make zero sense, so I opted out.

G: I'm sleeping.

H: I got whisked up in a tornado and am now in Oz...without wifi.

I: My computer crashed.

J: The internet crashed.

K: The zombie apocolypse happened, and I now want braiiiiiinnnnnssss.

L: I took a swift trip to Mars.

...Or something else.

BEDA, Day 28: Smile more!

Tum tee tum tee too...

Oh, hello there! It's that time again? Really? Already?

I had a thought. I think it was a good thought. I thought that it might be fun to share with you all my favorite joke, so here we go.

(ONE)
Me: Wanna hear the best knock-knock joke in the world?

Other Person: Sure!

Me: Okay, you start.

Other Person: Knock knock.

Me: Who's there?

Other Person: *Confused look*

Me: *Hysterical laughter*

----

Oh, god. That joke is so dang funny. Try it out sometime. The reactions you get are pretty epic, I must say.

It just takes the other person by surprise, and the best part is, it's a joke that the TELLER can enjoy...many. Times. Over. XD

The world needs to laugh more.

When you go to a store, say, a grocery store for example, look around you. So few people are smiling. Nobody takes the time to turn up the corners of their mouths. How much effort does that take, anyway?

If you smile at a person, they smile back. You have brightened up another person's day. You're spreading love and happiness just by the simple act of a smile.

Also, if you're smiling, people think that you're up to no good. (Kidding.)

Putting out positive energy is a good thing, adding to the awesome in the world. Trust me, there's a LOT of awesome in this world.

Putting out negetive energy, that just adds to the amount of worldsuck. (Worldsuck is exactly what it sounds like, the sucky things that are in the world.)

To decrease worldsuck, here is a video that makes me laugh a lot: 50 jokes in five minutes, as done by Hank Green.



Smile more, frown less.

~Whimsy

P.S. I'm still looking for questions to reply to, so if you haven't asked a question/have a new one to ask, put it down in the comments.

BEDA, Day 27: The Master Of Darkness.

Kiwi.

The word isn't frighting, it's simply a fruit. Just a brown fuzzy fruit that is oval and green in the middle. Nothing terrifying.

Or is it?

Dear readers, do I have a tale for you.

My Pepe has a bird. It's a green parrot-thingy with a yellow patch on the back of his neck. This bird is the Devil Incarnate.

Not going to lie, that bird scares me. It's name? KIWI, MASTER OF THE DARKNESS.

Fine. The bird's name is just plain old Kiwi, but it should be KIWI, MASTER OF THE DARKNESS.

When I was little, I was walking past The Master Of Darkness, when he went for my eyes. THE BIRD WENT FOR MY EYES. He squaked, and tried to attack my face. I was really young, keep in mind, and I had this big bird in my face, screaming bloody murder and going for my eyes. Needless to say, Kiwi stays in his cage when I come over now.


The Master Of Darkness is also very, very noisy. You try to have a normal conversation and instead you get this sample conversation:

Me: "...so there I was paddling through the woods, in a canoe, composing my obituary and freaking out.**"

Other Person: "You actually started your obituary? That's so funny!"

Me: "Yeah, the water was sweeping me away downstream and I was taking my paddle and attemp-"

The Master Of Darkness: *Gurgling cry like he's dieing*

Other Person: "What were you saying, now?"

Me: "...and attempting to hook it around the nearest tree becau-"

The Master Of Darkness: *another gurgling cry, with added whine of death*

Me: *grits teeth* "BECAUSE there is a waterfall downriver, and I don't want to d-"

The Master Of Darkness: *Nearly yodeling with evil cries of doom*

Me: *squacks right back at him*

Truly, this conversation has been lost.


Another thing The Master Of Darkness does is this: You sit down next to his locked cage, and he will just STARE at you. And then, slowly but surely, he moves over to the edge of his cage, and sliiiiiides down, looking at you, not blinking a bit, and still with murder in his gaze. Then, he fluffs up his neck feathers (as if he needs to be MORE frighting)and lets out a long low rumble.
To complete the terror, he will then take his hooked beak and attempt to BITE HIS WAY OUT OF THE CAGE.

This, combined with the staring and general creepage is the reason why I call Kiwi "The Master Of Darkness".

Actually, I have never called Kiwi "The Master Of Darkness" before, but now I shall.

Damn, that bird is creepy.

~Whimsy

P.S. If you have questions about anything at all, don't forget to put 'em in the comments so you can be included in the answers post!

**True story, this actually happened. It's funny, looking back on it, but it WAS NOT at the time.

BEDA, Day 26: Conference, and The Whimsy Code.

So, once more I come to you in a pre-packaged form. This time, I am off at an unschooling conference, where I am (presumebly) either frolicking, making merry, meeting awesome people, seeing old friends, and/or generally having a grand old time.

I'm leaving today (Thursday, tho' I'm not writing this on that day), and I won't be back until late Sunday/early Monday, so replies to comments shall be picked back up on that day.

Here is a bite of the conference:



You can't see me in that video, because I went home before the photos and such were taken. No Whimsy-sightings there. (The Whimsy is an elusive creature, prone to making goofy faces when it is being photographed. That is why there are few genuinely "nice" photos of The Whimsy.)

That being said, we continue with our regular blog posts.

I have a plan, dear readers. Here it is. I am putting out a call for questions that you would like answered, and I will compile an answers post after I return from my excursion. Sound like fun? Just leave a comment with your question, and I shall reply to it. ^_^

I'd love deep questions, questions about my life, myself, goofy questions, anything. You ask it, I'll answer it. (Providing that it doesn't break The Whimsy Code*, that is.)

August has been a lot of fun, but also a LOT of crazy. I guess I never realized quite how nutty my life was until I attempted to write daily blogs about it. Gadzooks.

Since I have nothing more to add to this post, I shall say farewell for now.

~Whimsy

* The Whimsy Code is thus:
I do not respond to spam, hate or anything like that.
If I would be giving away something about my life that I don't want broadcast across the internet, again, that's a no.
Rude/nosey questions will be appraised on a question-by-question basis.
Genuine curious questions will always be appreciated.
And hey, it never hurt to ask, now did it?

BEDA, Day 25: Three Part Blog

Greetings, blog-friends, this blog comes to you in THREE PARTS!

Part One: Packing

Part Two: Sad news

Part Three: Images

-------

Part One: Packing

Today, I am packing up.
"Where are you going, Miss Whimsy?" you ask.

I am going to an unschooler's conference.

Now, packing for an unschooler's conference is very different than packing for a normal vacation.

For a normal vacation, you need clothing, personal hygiene products and money to spend on tourist trinket stuff.

For an unschooler's conference, my list includes (in addition to the above items), my guitar, rolls of duct tape, as many hats as can fit in the car, Artist Trading Cards, a pack of sharpies, old cd's, and things to tie-dye.

There is a concrete reason for all of those items.

My guitar: Used so that I can play along with my friend, and perhaps at the talent show one of the nights. This will be the first year I'm bringing an instrument.

Rolls of Duct Tape: There's a funshop (like workshop, only not) all about duct tape. I'm bringing my own stash so I can make epic things happen.

As many hats as I can: I have QUITE a collection of hats, and I wear them all proudly. These will be simply accessories to my ensembles.

Artist Trading Cards: are little works of art that one makes, then trades for other little works of art. I have a three ring binder full of them, and hope to get some more before returning home.

A pack of Sharpies: The first year I went to the conference, I saw that sharpies were a theme. One used them to draw Hug Buttons on your skin,(when someone pushes the Hug Button, you give them a hug), to color your hair (yes, this works), and to write on clothing. Every year since, I have brought my own pack.

Old CD's: For the Media Exchange. You bring in YOUR old stuff, and other people bring in their old stuff, and you swap. Then, everyone ends up with new stuff, and you've recycled.

Things To Tie-Dye: You may have guessed that there will be tie-dying at the conference. You're right. ^_^

I really can't wait. There will be much awesome.

Part Two: Sad News
Esther Earl turned 16 less than two months ago. In her life, she made the world suck so much less. She was instrumental in helping the Harry Potter Alliance win $250,000. I met her once, through a skype call. She was so kind and happy, despite the battle she was fighing against cancer. At 3:30 this morning, Esther Earl passed on. Today, Nerdfightaria lost a completely made-of-awesome member. We will ALL remember Esther.

If you want to leave her family a message, you can do so here.

Part Three: Images

Here is a photo of The Elusive Whimsy!

Yes, I really look like that.
*Shakes head no*

Okay, I lied. I look like this:

Yeah. More of what you thought?
Thought so.


Anyway, see you later, bloggians.
I have to go pack up!

~Whimsy

P.S. Look for exciting news in tomorrow's post!

BEDA, Day 24: Facebook

Sometimes, I think that people's facebooks are inaccurate representations of who they are as people.

Let us take a look at my facebook...

Groups:
The Human Rights Campaign
NaNoWriMo
French the Llama
Tyler Oakley
QueerAttitude.com
Red Vines
Laughing Like Umbridge
REAL Theater
ALL CAPS
StarKidPotter
RENT
Duct Tape
Unschooling

A sampling of status updates:

"So, according to this text analyzing website, I write like Douglas Adams. You know, Hitchhiker's Guide's author Douglas Adams? This made me very happy. Then, I submitted some more text, and I was told I write like two OTHER authors who are TOTALLY different. Whatever, I still want to think I write like Adams."

"Apparently, today is "friendship day". What is it about us that makes us need a day for everyone? If you've done it right, your friends know that they are loved every day. If you haven't, then they wouldn't still be your friends. Happy friendship day anyway."

"Today is a good day. No more Prop 8. :D"

"I'm not a bad speller, I just have creative spelling tendencies."


Political Views:
"People should be kind to other people as a general rule."

~~~

That seems to sum me up nicely, eh?

Too many people portray themselves as SO different than they are in real life.

Why do we do that? The internet is a breeding ground for non-genuine relationships, friendships and conversations. But it could be used as a place where like minded people find each other, and lifelong friendships are made. That is what I use my internet for.

Too often, we use the internet as a place to become fake people who are, in turn used to hurt other people's feelings.

It's sad that we as humans have such a hard time with being nice to other humans sometimes.

~Whimsy

P.S. A friend of mine is very, very ill right now. Her name is Esther. If you want, could you send love, light and health her way? Thank you.

BEDA, Day 23: I'm BACK!

Hello people!

Whilst I was away at the Faire, I noticed that I have hit ten followers. Hooray!

Hello, new people! If you haven't already, I suggest you read the "conversation with you, my blog reader" page, as it tells much about myself.

So, having spent the past two days away from the computer, I now have SO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON. Wow, lots happen over the weekend.

Anyway, I spent the weekend with some of the most wonderous people I know. We went to the RenFaire on Saturday, and then camped over into Sunday, it was funnly awesome...then, at 1am on Sunday...IT RAINED. *cue DOOM music*

SO MUCH WET. I woke up and realized that my only pair of shoes was left outside in the torrential downpour. >.<
So, we packed up the tent and all the rest of the stuff, and decided to go the Faire again that day. It had stopped completely downpouring, so we ventured out into the dampness. It was splendid, it really was. We walked about in the wetness, and then the skies opened once more. We took shelter at first, but eventually just gave it up and frolicked in the torrential rain.

We danced in the rain, caught marshmallows in our mouths from the marshmallow-catapult vendor, told jokes to Robin Hood's Merry Men, ate middle eastern food, and listened to lovely Rennish music.

Sometimes, getting soaked to the skin (Not kidding, NOTHING WAS DRY) and having a three hour ride back home in wet clothes while cold, and cavorting like a mad woman is so worth it.

Think of the memories.

OH! GUESS WHAT I BOUGHT?

Yes, that's a PURPLE ROBIN HOOD HAT. I have such plans for this article of clothing. ^_^

That's all for today.

~Whimsy

P.S. Yes, I'm wearing a plaid shirt. I'm in my PJ's. I'm comfortable.

BEDA, Day 22: Renissance Faire!

So, right now I'm at a Renfaire. A Renfaire is a Renissance Faire. (Think King Arthur, etc.)

This will be my first time at said faire. I have gone to faires before, oh, yes I have.

When I was younger, I spent my autumns at the faire in the state I live in. I mean, this was from around age 6 to around age 13, maybe. These actors (who will ALWAYS be their characters to me) knew me since I was tiny.

Spending my September and October weekends in the company of knights, mud beggers, singing executioners, swashbuckling pirates, gypsies, swordsmen, royalty, the fey and townsfolk was a pretty dang good time, I have to say.


I made sure that I caught the pub show (rated PG-13...so I sat in the back) every day. I know more Rennie* drinking songs than any teenage girl has the right to.

When I go to that faire now, I keep hearing how much I've grown.

The singing executioners (who have a stage show that I could recite from memory back when I did the faire) always are happy to see us. I think I've seen them ONCE without the back masks that they always wear.

I wanted to be a knight, instead of a lady, so when I got enough stamps on my card from the kiddie play yard, I asked the king to knight me "not Dame Irisa, but SIR Irisa." Repeatedly. I was THE MOST knighted person I knew. It was awesome.

As you can tell, I had a character. I spoke in an accent, had a character name, warmed up my voice in the mornings (if only by following the Big Kid actors and mimicing them). I was Irisa (eye-ree-sah), a Romanian Gypsy child. (roll the r's, it's better that way.)

Although I have made myself many, many, many swords, I have always wanted to do archery. It's so freakin' cool! And less dangerous. Less physical fighting.

I learned how to curtsy properly, what to say when someone says "Long live the King!" (God save the King!), how to faint (as told by a mud begger), how to harass people into doing the Maypole, every word of "the Itchy Britches song", the difference between an Irish, Welsh and English accent, that one NEEDS to watch out for the knight's swords, and that having a person explain what exactly a cell phone is is highly entertaining.

So, if you have gone to a Faire, go again, if you haven't...GO. You will not regret it!

Huzzah,

~Whimsy


*Rennie = cute version of renissance. Also can refer to a person who loves/acts in the faires.

P.S. With that as a part of my childhood, is it any wonder I'm on the Pirate side of things?

Question:
What side are YOU on, pirates or ninjas?

BEDA, Day 21: Talkin' bout the internet.

I have a problem, readers.

It's not a BIG problem.

My problem is with the "Blogosphere" and the "Twitterverse" and the "YouTubes" and all those other weird words that describe various internet-y things.

Nobody calls MySpace "MySpaceLandia", and Facebook isn't "Facetown" and Dailybooth isn't "BoothDayz".

Why does this happen? It's not needed, and it makes something that's already got a strange name into something with a cutsey-poo nickname.

What's even worse is that all of these things can be found on "Teh Interwebz". Spelling "the" t-e-h is beyond annoying, and why do you have to add a Z on the end of the word? It's not edgier/better/cooler to have "skillz" than to have "skills".

If a sentence is typed "i have mad skillz wit postin tweetz nd blogz. wut up internetz?" then I am going to assume that I will not appreciate the "mad skillz" that you supposedly have "with postin tweetz nd blogz" and will most likely not go and check you out on the "internetz".

Also, what is UP with saying "FAIL"? Somebody gets a fact wrong, and all of a sudden, the Fail Ninjas attack. It's all "lolz, u fail" "FAIL" "that was a fail", until you want to just scream.

"lol" "LOL" "XD LOL" "LOL JK" "LOL WTF"
O_O Oh my dear lord. CAN WE NOT, PLEASE? When I'm typing to you, and all you say back is "lol" what do I say? I NEVER use "lol", and some people I know use it in REAL LIFE! Instead of actually LAUGHING at what they find funny, they spit out an internet platitude. Nobody's actually laughing out loud when they write LOL. It's simply become a placeholder, something to say in place of real conversation.

It's enough to make me go "OMG".

One more thing. Is saying "ur gay" really the best you can do to insult someone? I'd be way more offended if someone typed "you're a close minded bigot" than simply going along with the "ur gay" "u look gay" "ur such a f*g" "GAY" insult.
Rule number one: I'm not going to get offended by anyone who won't take the time to type out "you're", and instead puts two letters.

It just irritates me.

*sigh*


So, blogosphereians, I'm off to check my e-mailz, facetown and the youtubes, but first, I have to see what's going on in the twitterverse.

LOL.

BEDA, Day 20: Names, backstories and plotlines, oh my!

So, my friends. I have bits about my novel to share with you.

I've been thinking about my NaNovel, and I have come up with (what I think are) some good ideas.

I have two stories that I'm working off of this year, a plotline and a (stupidly extensive) backstory. The backstory follows the lives of the FIRST five people on my list, and the main plotline follows the daughters of the first five.

The idea behind the story is that the BACKSTORY is your everyday fantasy plot with good triumphing over evil, etc, etc. However, the perceptions of "good" and "evil" have been skewed by the people who are telling the history/public perception/combined with the fact that scared people will believe just about anything, even though both parties are equally in the wrong.

Anywho...

I'm VERY picky about names, so picking what I'm going to call my characters is a BIG deal.

I'm including a bit of a bio about each of them, and be warned...NEARLY EVERYONE DIES. But it needed to happen. I am sad about killing them, honest. :(


So far, I have these:

Cairene Llewellyn - Princess who was born by the King and another woman, shunned since birth, only member of royal line left; becomes Queen by end of the Backstory.

Liam Newlin - Commoner boy, family dies in combo flood/famine, teams up with Cairene, eventually marries her, becomes King by end of Backstory

Tavis Bronwy - Loner-type young adult, marries Ziske for appearance's sake, has child with her by end of Backstory.

Ziska (Ziske) Arwydd - Young woman from the mountains, powerful mage, married to Tavis, but her heartmate is Shivaun/Carys/Malia. Dead by end of Backstory by Liam and Cairene; has infant.

Shivaun/Carys/Malia Riedwyn - Young woman, mage from small village in upper country, loves and is together with Ziske. Tavis and she get along fine, no battle for Ziske's heart. Dead by end of Backstory.

---

Talaith Bronwy (Arwydd) - Daughter of Tavis, Ziske and Shivaun.

Aneira/Ariene/Elain Llewellyn - Daughter of Cairene and Liam.

--------

So, waddya think?

Also, I will be away until Monday. Expect regular posts, but comments shall be replied to when I get back.

Have a wonderous weekend, all!

~Whimsy

P.S. I shall miss keeping up on my other BEDA friends's blogs. :( However, I am off to do AWESOME THINGS, so it's all great. ^_^

BEDA, Day 19: All the answers in the world...not really.

The Answers!


One: If I could pick three stores to shop at, they would be Staples (office supplies), Barnes and Nobel (books), and Claire's (accessories).

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
Office supplies are wonderful. I LOVE going and looking though all the goodies. Barnes and Nobel, for obvious reasons (BOOKSBOOKSBOOKS), and Claire's might surprise you. However, I do get a surprising amount of my accessories from there (so many rainbows). It would be more accurate to switch Claire's out for a thrift store, since that REALLY is where I get %98 of my clothing, but heck, whatever.


Two: I hate reality TV, like Project Runway and Last Comic Standing.

THIS FACT IS FALSE!
Oh Project Runway, how I love thee. Yeah, my one weakness is reality TV. I watch it. It's true. For those of you who got it, what gave me away? XD



Three: My first online community was Neopets.com.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
I met a friend on there, and we're still friends, almost 5 years later, but we have never met in person. CURSE THE FACT WE LIVE IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES! I even remember all my pets names, and everything.


Four: I've gone rock climbing.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
I've gone rock climbing, this is true. It was terrifying and awesome at the same time. It was an indoor place, so no ACTUAL rocks, but the "cliffs" that I was climbing were about...20-25 feet high? When you look down, that is one scary view. I want to do it again sometime.



Five: I have a scar on my knee from nothing but my own idiocy.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
Well, sorta. Idiocy cannot cause scarring. However, getting hurt because you were BEING an idiot...that can happen.
Sensetive souls, skip to next paragraph.
I was riding a scooter down my (very steep, very dirt) driveway, keep in mind that this scooter had no brakes and deflated tires. I had a very bright idea that if I set up a really big rock in the path and ran my scooter at is, yanked up my scooter and popped a wheelie I could fly.
I realize this is a bad idea. I was young.
I tried to get my sister to attempt this plan, but she was not having any of this. (Three years younger, and so much wiser...) So, in lieu of her, I decided to do it.
I went down like the proverbial rock, and didn't even know I was hurt until I looked down and saw a hole in my knee. A trip to the ER was needed, and they dug the gravel out of my knee. I now have a round nasty evil scar, and there's no great "war story" about how I got it. I usually try to say "oh, it's my own stupidity" when asked, and then I tell the story. Yeah.



Six: I have met Niel Cicierega. (The Potter Puppet Pals creator)

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
I even got him to sign a t-shirt of mine. This was at a wizard rock show where Potter Puppet Pals preformed live. So awesome, so amazing, so fun. Those puppets are bigger than you think they are...


Seven: I am allergic to guinea pigs, hamsters, hedgehogs, horses, cows, certain dogs and cats, dust, hay, and seasonal allergens. However, I am NOT allergic to gerbils.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
I used to ride horses, and I grew terribly allergic to them over time, to the point that I wore dust masks when I rode. I gave it up eventually, but I really do miss it. Trust me, if I could be on a horse without being a total mess, I would be on one today.



Eight: People have asked me if I wasn't in school because I was stupid, if I was adopted and if I was Amish.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
Some people are hilarious in their ignorance.
I can't blame the people who thought I was adopted, though. They had never met my dad, so they thought that I JUST had two moms. We were both confused, and then I realized what they had meant and started to laugh. All was well in the end, but the misunderstanding was amusing.


Nine: I will pick pretzels over cookies. Every time.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
Oh, god, those pretzels you get at the mall...SO GOOD. I could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner...only not really, because only eating carbs = bad. *sigh*
Any cookie pales in comparison.



Ten: I have only been told once that I look like my dad.

THIS FACT IS TRUE!
While I have been told time and time again that I look like my mom (Biological mom, that is), I have only been told once that I look like my dad. For this, I am very greatful. XD


~~~~

Well, my friends, this is where I leave you for today!

See you tomorrow,

~Whimsy

P.S.
What's the strangest question that you've been asked?

P.P.S. If you folks EVER have any questions (strange or not), ask away. I may even do a full post in reply to the question, but I will certainly answer in some form (commenting back, etc).

BEDA, Day 18: Whimsy plays a game!

So.

Nick from "Looking For Glasses" has tagged me with the Versatile Blogger award/meme/whatever-it-is-thingy.

The idea is, you have to post ten facts and a lie about yourself, and your readers have to guess what one is false. I'll give the answers and tell the tales behind the facts tomorrow.

One: If I could pick three stores to shop at, they would be Staples (office supplies), Barnes and Nobel (books), and Claire's (accessories).

Two: I hate reality TV, like Project Runway and Last Comic Standing.

Three: My first online community was Neopets.com.

Four: I've gone rock climbing.

Five: I have a scar on my knee from nothing but my own idiocy.

Six: I have met Niel Cicierega. (The Potter Puppet Pals creator)

Seven: I am allergic to guinea pigs, hamsters, hedgehogs, horses, cows, certain dogs and cats, dust, hay, and seasonal allergens. However, I am NOT allergic to gerbils.

Eight: People have asked me if I wasn't in school because I was stupid, if I was adopted and if I was Amish.

Nine: I will pick pretzels over cookies. Every time.

Ten: I have only been told once that I look like my dad.



Make your guesses, fair friends!

Tata,
~Whimsy

I need to tag somebody, don't I?

Charlie from Boyintree

Rachel from The Armoire

Paige from BEDA (Blog Every Day August)



There. Three will do, won't it?

Feel no obligation to do this at all, and if I DIDN'T tag you and you want to do it anyway, just go the heck ahead. Let me know if you do this in the comments so I can see your posts, okay? Thank you muchsome!

BEDA, Day 17: A pledge, and tales from life.

After reading back through my blog entries, I have realized something.

I have never once stretched, modified, or in any other way changed the truth. Because of this, I have decided that I shall continue in this vein.

This blog will continue to be an honest-to-goodness recollection of my life (and whatever else I decide to put in here).

So you, dear reader (Oh. My. LORD, I need a new name for you all.) can know that everything that you read honestly did happen.

I think that's important to know. It's too easy to lie on the internet, or even to mislead a person. So, now you know that I am, have and will be completely honest with you.

In other news from Whimsyville, I have finished my plot outline! Huzzah, cheers and all that jazz.
Currently, my plot outline checks in at nine pages long, with the backstory outline at seven pages. I am officially un-stuck!

I went to the library today to work on my novelness (it's a real word right now, so there), and instead, ended up talking to a ten year old boy about Harry Potter, King Arthur, Merlin, wizards in general, Nicholas Flamel, the philosopher's stone, name origins, NaNoWriMo, where my (very tiny) town is located, hair dye, and yoga.

Here are a few sample conversations:


Library Chappie: (LC) "Is your hair really black?"
(My hair was dyed pink, but the color is fading, and I'm a sorta-bleached blonde with dark roots.)

Me (laughing a bit): "Nope, I've got brown hair. It was pink, but the color grew out. I'll be going green in about a week or so."

LC: "Let me ask you...why green?"
(He give me this look that can only be described as a look that is related to the "O RLY?" owl look.)

Me: "Well, green is my favorite color. It's kind of a blue-green, more green than blue though."

LC: (Looks at me for a moment, then says) "I like light blue."

The best part about this conversation is the fact that it wasn't weird to ask me if my hair REALLY looks like that. Younger kids are so much easier to deal with. Teenagers can be so blasted complicated.

-----

(Talking about NaNoWriMo, my BLFONT spread out in front of me, taking up the entire table, as per usual)

LC: "Can I see your draft?"

Me: "Oh, man, sorry, you can't. My handwriting is awful (true), and it's NOWHERE near done (also true)."

LC: "I thought girls had pretty handwriting?"

Me: (stifles grin) "Maybe some girls, but not this one."

LC: "Oh."

-----

(Finished chatting about Greek vs Roman mythology, the fact that Nicholas Flamel's body was never found in his grave, what the philosopher's stone was supposed to have done, the fact that Voldemort translates to "flight from death" in french, Fluffy the three headed dog is actually Cerberus, the dog that protects the underworld, what yoga actually is, etc)

LC: "How do you know so much?"

Me: (Feeling bashful and flattered) "I read a lot."

------

This kid has probably never met anyone like me before. I'm 8 years older than he is, but I don't treat him as a kid. Being treaded as a "kid" drove me NUTS when I was younger. It still does now, but it happens less often.

So, that's my day.
How was/is yours?

Signing off for now,
~Whimsy

BEDA, Day 16: My crazy family, party nonsense, and Margaritaville.

Oh-my-good-lordy-hot-diggity-dawg, am I ever TIRED TODAY. WOW.

Here is a brief re-telling of Pepe's party.

So, we (the moms and my sister) leave for Pepe's house at a bit before 2pm, after scouring the house for EVERYthing that we might need for the party, cooking loads of food (my family is Italian*/French; we love to eat), packing up Pepe's truck with chairs, tables, coolers and more, and getting ourselves all gussied up for a party. All morning, this getting-everything-ready took us.

So we get there, at 2 in the afternoon. Keep in mind, the party starts at 6:30, so we're there pretty damn early.

We UNPACK the truck, set up all the tables, move all the patio furniture down to the lawn, move the tables up to the patio, decorate the yard with decor (smile-faces, peace signs, flowers) left over from a Spring Fling (Homeschool prom) two years ago, and start assembling food and getting everything all set.

Then, people start arriving. It's not 6:30 yet. Not even close. These people are my Pepe's partner, (who I shall call J.U.)'s (yes, he's gay) family. I don't really know any of them. So they congregate over at a table and we continue to run around like chickens missing heads.

Finally, we are all set up.

So, I'm crashed out on Pepe's couch in the living room, when one of J.U.'s family/friends come in the room. He turns to me and says "Hola". (Did I mention that J.U. is from Puerto Rico? No? Well, he is.)
So I say "Hi" back, and turn back to look out the window, like I was before, not really attempting conversation.
Then, he says "Como estas**?". My thoughts went a little like this: "Oh god, what does that mean, now he's looking at me like he wants a reply, and I don't know any spanish, oh wait I guess I do, a bit, but what does como estas mean, is it how are you? yeah, I think that's right, oh well, I'll say that I'm good."

I say "Good." He nods and walks away.

So I go outside, (now the party's started) and I settle down in a chair in the "eldery woman" area. I don't know why, but they flock together, like seagulls or something. There I am, with my very cynical Grandma on one side, next to her is my Great Aunt P. or as I call her, Aunt P. Aunt P is kinda-sorta crazy. I love that woman to death, but she's nuts. She glued a christmas tree upside down on her cealing one year, because she lacked floor space. Did I mention that she's 90?

I can't make this stuff up.

So, on my OTHER side, there's M.M, who is Pepe's next-door nieghbor, and the lady who did the chicken dance with me.
And then there's Aunt J, who is really Great Aunt J, but what the hell. Aunt J is the one who looked at my sister and said "skinny ankles" last year. Yep.

Oh family, how you amuse me.

So, to kick-start the conversation, I say "Grandma, guess what I'm doing this August?" She obviously has no clue, so I tell her: "I'm doing Blog Every Day August" then I stop and realize something "Do you know what a blog is?" To which she replies "It's something on the computer, isn't it?"

I love her. No matter what I'm doing, or if she even knows what the hell it is that I'm doing, she's right behind it, %110.


So, this story isn't mine, I wasn't there. It's my sister's. Credit must be given, where credit is due. Taken DIRECTLY from V's account.



"So, Aunt P was talking about how she couldn't live without Wal-Mart, J said she was boycotting it, and P said something about "then you certainly must go to target".
I told her we were boycotting that to, and she asked why, so I told her about Tom Emmer***, and she said "the church has a problem with gay people, I never have, when they make donations they should think 'are there more Christian people or are there more of the gays?'" And then she was like, "probably more gays".

And then there was a thoughtful silence.

And then she said, "and there are even some Christian gays. R's**** sister, for one."
So, she starts listing gay people, like as if to say, "Oh, I know gay people, let me make a LIST!"

She (Aunt P) mentioned some random people I don't know, and then she said "your mother, my son, and even T." (T is my Pepe)

Aunt J said "So, T is gay."

So, Aunt P said "I assume so, he seems to get along with J.U. very well. I often wondered...I mean to say, there's only one bedroom."

J said "doesn't bother me"

Aunt P said "doesn't bother me either. I don't know if he calls himself 'gay' but he certainly is, I guess."

They both nodded conspiratorially.

Sat in silence, then changed the subject."


Huzzah for V, eh? Lovely tale, that.


So, I ended up doing karaoke. I was not surprised about that. I sung "All Star" three Madonna songs (Happy Birthday, Madonna, by the way!), "Love Shack", "Summer Nights", and Margaritaville. TWICE. There aren't many songs I dislike more than Margaritaville. SO ANNOYING, but I knew the words, and I could keep up with the words and everyone else was singing...There were a few others, but I have forgotten the titles. Suffice it to say that I was an integral part of the karaoke.


That's the highlights from the party. Hope you enjoyed. I know it was a tad long, forgive me.

Goodnight/goodmorning/good-whenever-you-read-this,

~Whimsy


*Sicilian, actually, but hey.

** Can't spell Spanish, forgive me.

*** See this article.

**** R is one of my mums.

BEDA, Day 15: Lemons, makeup, robot love, dorks and a ghost in the form of a mongoose.

Instead of me writing some jargon/idiocy about whatver is in my head, I shall share with you a multi-media (read: video) extravaganza.

Firstly, Tyleroakley. This video makes me laugh EVERY TIME I watch it. Bar none.







Then, Hayleyghoover. This is what I look like, trying to put on makeup.


Okay, not really, but hell, that's funny.





Next, a robot love song, by ALL CAPS. You WILL be singing this all day long.






And now, a lovely parody of Katy Perry's California Gurls. This is what my dream California would be like.





Lastly, you may know him from Potter Puppet Pals, NeilCicierega.
This song is awesome, and I listen to it frequently.






That's all for today. I'm so tired right now, it's mad. I'm going to go watch reality TV, read Artemis Fowl and crash on the futon.
Love&stuff,
~Whimsy

P.S. Recap of party will be coming tomorrow, I hope. Too freakin' beat to make sense today. It was amusing, so y'all will have something to laugh about.

P.P.S. Kinda lame blog, but I hope you enjoyed the videos.

BEDA, Day 14: "Sweet Jesus I love me some honky-tonk."

Every August, my Pepe* has a party.

It's a birthday party that "he" (read "my family") puts on. He put it on the first year for his 69th birthday, I do believe. The next year, he decided not to, because turning 70 was just weird for him. From then to now, we've held the party for him.

That's where I am today.

He hires a band to play, and everyone brings food, and we have a party on the lawn.
I always have fun.

May I just say that the average median age for the partygoers at this party is about my mom's age, probably even older. There are practically NO younger people at the party.

Almost every year, I end up doing the chicken dance with Pepe's elderly neighbors and my moms. I laugh. A LOT.

My Pepe likes country music. I do not. I tolerate it, because I know it makes him happy. I just can't stand the "Mah wife left me/ She took mah dawg/ Now I ain't got no money/ So why not go to a hoedown / Sweet Jesus I love me some honky-tonk."
That is my personal hell. Not kidding. Okay, maybe my personal hell would be all my family and friends dead, and myself being experimented on by a group of mad scientests, but there would certainly be country music in the background.

So we have this party, where my family and I are working the entire time, the live band is playing the chicken dance and country music, and almost all the guests are twice my age or older.

Somehow, this is splendidly fun.

Last year, there was karaoke. Let me tell you, reader-folk, I don't sing. Correction. I love to sing, I do it often, but I do not sing WELL. I can sing in an alto range (or lower; I prefer to sing the guy's part in most duets), but going up to a soprano or anything above that is just...bad.

Somehow, I ended up singing We Are Family, Holiday and Matirial Girl. All those songs are in the higher range. It was a blast.

Also, EVERY YEAR, Pepe invites all these people who I have no clue who they are. Because he thinks that my sister and I walk on water, we are introduced to them. Every year. Even if we met them last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.

Also, I have a great-aunt who is hyper-critical of everyone. Last year, (no lie) she looked at my sister and said "...Skinny legs." I know that I will either be too skinny, or not skinny enough. Oh yes.

One year, another aunt asked me if I had "become a woman yet". Right there, during the party. Took all I had not to crack up laughing.

So, my lovelies, that is why I am writing this blog a day early. So I can fully enjoy the hilarity that is my Pepe's party.

I'm probably off dancing, or eating, or singing karaoke.

~Whimsy

* Pepe means Grandpa. ^_^

BEDA, Day 13: Plotting.

As you (I have no doubt) know, I am currently at work plotting for my NaNoWriMo novel this November.

I have been plotting my buns off (not that that can ACTUALLY happen), and I came up with something that I like.

So, I was thinking that I would write a story, in a fantasy setting, about gray morals. You know when you're reading a fantasy story and there are two distinct sides? The Good Side and The Bad Side?
Well, I'm trying to create a story where there IS no good and bad sides, and both of the sides have made mistakes, and each of them think that they are The Good Side.

So that's the premise.

The Actual Story takes place AFTER the "good" guys, vanquish the "bad" guys, the place where most fantasy stories end

One daughter from each side of the old conflict meet and start working together.

My plan was for them to take down the corrupt government and free the people, blah blah blah.

The problem is, well...

I have hit a brick wall of the evil WRITER'S BLOCK. Dun dun dunnnnnnn.

I wrote a nicely angst-ridden backstory for the parents of said children, but alas the daughters are giving me issues.

Now, I am wondering if I should just scrap the tales of the daughters and go with the parents instead.

I really like the backstory, but I don't know if I can handle immersing myself in that story for a month.

The reason why is this: To get to the point that I needed for the daughters, I had to create a lot of angst. They needed to really hate the other side with a passion, so most of the characters needed to die.

Also, I would have a very hard time not sympathizing with the "bad" side, because I find them far more interesting and I think I really kinda love them. So sad that I had to kill them.

I haven't been able to move beyond the place where I'm stuck for days. Ahhhhrgh.

So that's my story.

My QE is thus:

What are you writing?

and

How do you un-block your writer's block?

BEDA, Day 12: Shy-On-The-Inside

So, readers, I want to have a talk with you.

I want to talk about being shy.

I'm shy.

It's not that I don't like people, I do, a lot. It's just that being in social situations makes me nerved up. Before I go to a place, even a friend's house, I get nervous and anxious. Even if I'm comfortable around the people that I'm hanging around with. Even if I've known them for my entire life. It can kinda be a problem sometimes.

It's not that I don't want to be the center of attention. I'm a naturally dramatic theatre geek. I thrive onstage, preferably in parts where I can be as insane as humanly possible. Or where I can yell in Shakespere's language.

It's not even that I lack self-confidence. I'm pretty damn self-confident, actually. I feel no fear in voicing unpopular opinions, wearing strange clothing, and generally being my quirky self.

It's not even that you can tell that I'm feeling awkward. I've done such a good job covering my nerves, that people who know me peripherally don't even give the fact that I might be shy a thought.

Hell, I'm even shy ONLINE. I (over)think before I sent private messages to friends, or join a new forum, or write a "hey, it's me" post. (You are lucky that I'm my least-shy on here.)

No, dear readers. (Good god, I need a better name for you all. This is getting absurd, now.)

I am, quite simply, shy-on-the-inside. It takes a lot of effort for me to insert myself into a conversation. I can take quite a bit for me to make new friends, although I try hard.

In addition to this, I have ADD, and keeping focus on ANYTHING for more than three seconds at a time can be very hard.

I really like people, and I like spending time with them. It can just be hard for me not to feel awkward.

So, my QE for you today is this:

Are you introverted of extroverted?

Also, are you shy-on-the-outside, shy-on-the-inside, or not-shy-at-all?

I am interested to know.

Shyly,
Whimsy

BEDA, Day 11: Androgynous

I love this song. It makes me happy on so many levels.

Watch it now, and then continue with reading this blog, okay?

I'll give you time.


There? Are you finished? Well, if you are (which you should be), then you will have seen Joan Jett preform a cover of The Replacements's Androgynous.

I have been (no lie) listening to this on repeat for the past three days.

There is just something so free and sweet about these two people who love each other, loving each other for who they are on the inside, not how they look, or express their gender, or anything else.

I wish the entire world was a bit more like that classroom of kids, who just recognize love, and don't judge.

Too much in life, people spend time judging other people.

We all do it. We all look at someone we haven't known before, and try to fit them into the boxes we already have in our heads. Now, some of you may be saying "That's not me. I don't do that." Well, you know what? It's freakin' HUMAN NATURE to judge people. I hate it just as much as you do, maybe MORE than you do.

If we realize that we can take the time to put aside these judgments that we made beforehand, and we all actually DO take the time, this world would be so much more accepting.

Then we wouldn't be shunning Dick (or anyone else) for wearing a skirt, and Jane wouldn't have to run away from home to be who she is.

There would be no more hate, because we would all be seen as people. Each one as worthy of respect and life as the next.

Just something to think about.

~Whimsy

P.S. I have been known to wear a tie, fedora and tailcoat at times. I have been known to wear a short skirt I made myself with a lacy tanktop at times. And guess what? I'm no different when I wear one than when I wear another.

BEDA, Day 10: The beginning of Q.E.

I am a girl. Dunno if you knew that, but it's true.

Girls in general like to talk about clothes. I don't, really. I don't do accessories. I don't do purses, handbags or all that other stuff.

However, (you knew something was coming, didn't you? You're too smart for your own good, you are) I do wear four pieces of jewlery, and I have a messenger bag (SO feminine, I know) that I carry around with me. The bag is filled with whatever books I'm reading at present, my iPod, whatever crap that has collected in the bottom of my bag, and my wallet filled with my library card, a holographic chocolate frog card with Voldemort on it, my photo ID, the Armored Bearcub drop-card I picked up at Infinitus, but haven't redeemed yet, and my room key from Infinitus. Did I mention that this wallet is made out of duct tape, and has a Hungarian Horntail sticker on the front? Oh, yeah...I'm a nerd. (Nerd pride!)

The four pieces are, in order of my receiving them...

One: A ring that belonged to my Aunt. I received this on her birthday this past year, because she died when I was three. Our family has always kept her memory alive, and one way we do this is to always celebrate her birthday. The ring is gold, with two diamonds flanking an amethyst. I don't wear this ring because it's pretty (which it is, don't get me wrong), but because I remember my aunt, and because, well, it's part of my family history.
If I were wearing it simply for the pretty factor, I would have ditched it LONG ago. The first day with it on, I managed to give myself a pretty epic scratch on my arm. From the ring. I drew blood. How that happened, I do not know.


Two: A Livestrong-type rubber bracelet in rainbow colors, with "ourtruecolors.org" stamped on it. I got this one at True Colors, which long-time readers may recall from my posts about it. (You can read them here, here and here.
This bracelet is special to me because of a few reasons. I haven't taken it off since March 15 of this year, except for when I had to take it off to play a socialite (and VERY STRAIGHT) girl in a play. Even then, I took it off for the show, and put it back on as soon as the show was done. Also, it's the most permanently visible sign I have on my person that I am not straight.


Three: A macrame bracelet in rainbow colors. I made this just before I went to Queer Prom with a couple of friends. I also made one for my one of my friends, but I misjudged how big her wrist was by FAR, and it ended up being a anklet. Oh well. That bracelet resides on the same wrist that the other rainbow bracelet is on. The pair of bracelets have stayed on my wrist even for (homeschool/unschool) prom.


Four: A pendant with "Remus" and a pair of wings on it. Very simple, sometimes even kept inside my shirt so that it can't be seen. I got this at Infinitus 2010. This, too has not come off since I put it on. This is a reminder of my Potter-obsessed-ness. Remus just may be my favorite character from the books.


I don't wear a timepiece, because life is too short, and I don't need a reminder of that ticking away on my wrist, thankyouverymuch.

I'm a pretty much function-over-pretty-things kind of gal, although I have gotten more...creative with my "style" over the past year or so.

So, that's it from me tonight.

I think I shall start a new feature in my blog. I shall call it Q.E.

Q.E. Shall stand for Question Exchange, and it shall go like so:

I will ask a question, and if you want, you can answer it, and ask me a question in return.

Here is the first Q.E.

What is the strangest thing in your wallet/purse/bag?

~Whimsy

P.S. Occasionally, I type my name as "Whimy" and it always makes me laugh.

BEDA Blog nine: BLFONT and writerly badass-ness.

I love libraries. There's just something almost magical about all those books, shelves upon shelves of them.

I can walk between the shelves for hours, just looking at the titles, cover pages...*swoon*

I know, I'm strange.* We knew that already.

Anyhow, so I was at a library today, and I had brought my Big Leather Folder Of NaNoWriMo Things (BLFONT) with me.

The BLFONT** is roughly the size of a very large laptop computer when shut, and twice that size when open. That's not even touching on the stack of (absolutely not) carefully arranged papers INSIDE the BLFONT.

Those papers cover notes about writing projects that are both current and no-quite-so-current. All the papers are thrown together higglety-pigglety***. The plots wind up near fragments of dialogue for tales I have no plans to write, all jumbled in with sketches, rantings, and a good dollop of song lyrics for good measure.

I get to the library and make a beeline for my table. Granted, this table is not mine. I have no claim to it whatsoever. However, given the choice, I will go for this table compleatly out of force of habit. That, and the chair I like is positioned so that I can see the rest of the library without having to turn too much.

I go over to the table, carrying my BLFONT and my messenger bag and claim the table.

My messenger bag (today at least) is filled with five books on writing, and my iPod.

As I unload all my books, my iPod, my BLFONT, I realize two things:

One: I am taking up a table for FOUR on my own.

Two: I look like a writer.

The first realization made me feel guilty, until I realized that nobody else wanted the table.

The second one made me feel like a badass. An epic writerly badass.

So here's my question for you:

Part one: Do you have a writer-ly case, like my BLFONT, and is it organized?

Part two: What do you do that makes you feel like a badass?

~Whimsy

* See any other blog post previous to this one.
** I pronounce this "Bella-font". Sorta like elephant, only not really at all.
*** A phrase to be used WAY more often than it actually is.

BEDA blog 8: Nothing lasts forever; sparklers.

Nothing lasts forever.

I'll start out by saying that, so you know that this will be an introspective post, not a completely off-the-wall one.

So, three years ago, my maternal grandmother, who I am very close to, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.

Stage four cancer, of any type is the worst stage. There are four stages, and one is the best stage (if there is a "good" cancer).

The doctors took out half her lung, and unfortunetly, the margins were not clean. In normal-person-who-does-not-know-cancer speak, this means they didn't get it all.

Obviously, this sucks.

So, the Dr said to us (her family) that we will be lucky to have her around for christmas. (This was in July of 2007.)


Today, I celebrated my grandmother's 69th birthday. She is still here.

I was standing outside, lighting off sparklers with my grandmother and the rest of my (very small) family, and it struck me.

I had better enjoy every moment I have with her, because nothing lasts forever.

It was bittersweet, happily sad, and altogether melodramatic.

(I just ruined the moment for all you readers-of-this-post, didn't I?)

I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

I appreciate every moment I have with my grandmother, even when she's driving me nuts, because I know that one day, she won't be here to drive me crazy.

So, that's the end of my overly sappy post.

~Whimsy

BEDA blog 7: Dear Reader...

Oh. My. God.

I missed a day of BEDA. Let the flogging commence.

...

KIDDING.

Anywhozer...

I have honestly no clue about what to blog about. I feel like it's kinda lame of me to just make a list of god-only-knows-what, so I shall attempt a coherent blog.

Let's talk, y'all. (I am not southern, yet I use y'all when I type. Go figure.)

I have come to the conclusion that I need a name for my audiance. Something short and sweet, so I can call you something other than "dear reader(s)".

First, I thought that since I am a blog-ger than you as the reader might be blog-ees, then I changed the spelling about a bit and came up with bloggies.

I then realized that "bloggies" seems like a four-year-old's name for plural blogs. ("Mama, mama, lookit mah bloggies!" Why a four year old would have a blog, let alone two or more is beyond me)
So, scratch that.

Bloggetts sounds to feminine and bloggles sounds just plain...dumb. (You'd stop reading if I called you bloggles, wouldn't you? Yeah, thought so.)

What to do, what to do...

And then I realize, with a blinding flash of realization, this:

if this is the most I have to worry about/make decisions about/freak out about, my life is pretty dang good.

And it is.

So, after all that, I guess I'm back to "dear reader(s)" and I guess that's okay with me.

So what if it makes me sound a bit odd, or old fashioned, or what have you, my other linguistics point in that direction as well.

There was no point to this post. I have ended where I began, calling you all my dear readers.

I don't mind if you don't. ^_^

Off to enjoy today, and hopefully write another blog before bed tonight so that I can be caught up with BEDA,

~Whimsy

BEDA day six: Twitter Camp.

I am tired, it is the end of my day, and lookie here! I'm blogging.
I have a sabbat at my house tomorrow, so I will try to write a blog, but doubt that THAT'LL happen.

What I did today:

- Sung the Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella songs. Way. Off. Key.

- Rubbed ice up and down my sister's arm, and pretended that Moaning Myrtle was licking her.

- Cleaned two bathrooms. Riveting.

- Edited video.

- Ate chocolate.

- Joined InvisibleEleven on Camp Twitter.

- Realized that at 18, summer camp is something that I will not be attending. Ever.

- Was both happy and a bit nostalgic for something that I never did.

- Remembered that yes, I did go to summer camp. A pottery camp set in ancient Sumer, and Greece.

- Remeniced about said camp.

- Recalled that I disliked the other campers.

- Was thankful that I never had to go to summer camp.

...so, that's MY day. I am completely tired, off to bed.

~Whimsy

BEDA, Day 5: Join me in NaNoWriMo this year?

Since this is a blog that is about writing (and other things as well) it seems only fair to talk about last year's NaNoWriMo.

Last year late in October, somewhere about the 20th of the month, my sister decided that it would be a good idea for the pair of us to write our own novels in November.

I think that you should join me this year for NaNoWriMo. It'll be a crazy ride, but someone has to take it!

Having written a detailed-to-the-max 50 page outline for a story a year or two (or three) ago, and rembering what madness that was, and the fact that I had about 10 days to prepare, I said no, as a sane person would.

Since my sister is SO not sane, she kept poking at me until I caved and made my NaNo account. I spent about three days working out a plot on lined paper, and came up with something that was drastically different than my usual attempted fare of fantasy-epic-adventures; a novel about teens putting on a production of Romeo and Juliet.

I love the idea, since in April of that year I had played Mercutio in my theater's show of the same, and therefore was bound and determined to give my main character, Alan, the same role.

I am so sick of not having lgbt characters show up in YA fiction, that I made Alan, Stephan, Melanie, Emily, Tanya and Oliver (all characters from that year's NaNo) either gay, lesbian or bi.

There were plenty of straight characters as well, but I found the need to include the lgbt ones irrisistable.

Mt book went off in a direction that I had no plan for it to go, and I am so glad for that. The creative flow of NaNoWriMo is unstoppable.

I noveled whilst getting ready for opening night for a show, and at the cast party, where I should have been socializing with my castmates.
I gave myself permission to make a glorious muddle of things, to add the man who says "dorf", the traveling shovel of death, and Katherine Bloodsaw.
I wrote late at night in a film noir setting, clacking away at my typewriter as the hours grew longer and I included dreams involving God, a gay man, and a missing pair of glittery jeans.
I word warred with random strangers, flipped out every time I wrote another thousand words, and I had a mentor who kept me on track to the 50k finish.


The long and short of it is this: Everyone should do NaNoWriMo.

Everyone should have a chance to douse their inner critic and do what makes them feel good.

Hell, douse the outer critics as well! They aren't you, and you need to nurture your own creative spirit. Nobody else can, will, or even should do that for you.

I guess that this stands as my open invitation to you all, then.

Come, join me, make mistakes, make art. Throw yourself into the joy of creating something that wasn't there before you started to make it. Live your life to the fullest everyday, and don't let the nay-sayers ruin your dreams. Dream big, dream on, and never, ever, ever stop.

Who's with me?

~Whimsy

BEDA Four: Gushers for Breakfast

I think that BEDA is (for me) Blog-Once-Every-Day-Before-You-Go-To-Bed-That-Night, because I am so not getting one up in every 24 hour day.

I am a night owl. This can cause problems with everyday life, because everyone else runs on, you know, daytime-time. I would be MORE than happy to wake up a 1pm, 2pm and go to sleep at...4am? That's more my kind of timetable.

However, The Rest Of The World does NOT follow by the 2pm-4am waking hours, so I have to get up early...ish, and go to bed early...ish-not-really. We're talking, say 9am to 1am? I know, REALLY early, huh? Not at all. I hate getting up early, I really do.

This summer, I went to Infinitus, a Harry Potter conference, and on the first day, I STUPIDLY gave in and told my friend to wake me up at 6:30 am so I could meet her at 7am.
I was so tired, I nearly fell asleep in my breakfast. (Breakfast was ginger ale, potato chips, cotton candy and gushers, for the interested. I have never eaten more crap in a meal in my ENTIRE life, but hey, what's vacation for?) Needless to say, I was WIRED all day long, until the night (read 2:30 am), where I crashed upon my bed and went out like a light.

Where was I going with all this? I do not know. Whatever.

Anywhozer, I took a writing test today, and learned that I write like Douglas Adams. This made me VERY happy, until I re-took the test twice more, and got two other authors. The lesson with that is: don't trust internet tests and analyzing whatnot, more often than not, it is crap.

If you are interested in who you write like (and who wouldn't, after my GLOWING review), please CLICK HERE and find out. If you do, tell me in the comments. A friend of mine got J.K. Rowling, and I admit, I was a bit envious.

Signing off before this gets far too long,
~Whimsy

BEDA, Day Three: Quirky

I completely realize that yesterday's blog was LONG.

I know, I know. You have to understand that when I am passionate about a subject, I tend to be long winded. Forgive me, readers who looked at that monstrosity and said "no friggin' way".

Let us talk about something else today.

Let's talk about quirks. We all have 'em. Some of us love 'em. Some are stranger than others.

Here's a list of my quirks:

I talk to myself. Correction. I talk to books. I know this is odd. I'll be at a library and see a book that I like. I'll say "Now, don't you look interesting" as I pick the book up and thumb through it. This has the pro of amusing myself, but the con of freaking out the other patrons of the library. Oops.


I cannot STAND ricotta cheese. The stuff sends shivers down my spine. I won't touch anything with that vile abomination in it or even near it. Not. Kidding.


I am a naturally messy person. Dear reader, if you could see my desk, you's wonder how the hell I'm composing this blog post on it. MESS. However, my library in the other room is organized by Author's last name, and within that, what books go chronologically in the series, and from that, what copies I got first. Since I have no fewer than 4 copies of Prisoner Of Azkaban, this is a needed precaution.
If someone messes with my library...woe betide them.
Did I mention that each book has a tag in it where I have the name of the person who checked out the book and the date it was checked out, so I know who has what book of mine at all times? Because I have that.


What other quirks do I have? So far, I have covered cheese and books. Not much variety there.

Let us think.

I change my voice around all the time just for the hell of it. Scottish, English, Medieval, high pitched voice, deep voice, robot, singing everything...you name it, I think I've done it.
This is why I amuse myself so well.


I can stand in front of a mirror, entertaining myself by twisting my face into un-godly shapes. When I was little, I scared myself by doing this in a dark room with a only a flashlight to see by. I think I'm scarred for life. Still.


Those are but few of my quirks.

What are yours?
Leave them in the comments! I read(and subsequently eat)every comment.

~Whimsy

BEDA day two: Unschooling vs Homeschooling

So, after posting my "I have returned from the land of dead bloggers" post, I got a comment asking me more about homeschooling. I promised that I would have a post up, detailing my thoughts on said subject, and here it is.

A common misconception is that homeschooling and unschooling are the same thing. I have had conversations like this:

"What school do you go to?"
"I'm unschooled, so I don't go to school."
"Oh! So, you're homeschooled!"

At which point, I have to decide if setting the record straight is worth the feeling of ripping my hair out by it's roots.

Here's the difference:

Homeschooling:

- Curriculum is used
- Is simply a way of learning
- Depends, but projects are usually graded
- Mom or Dad acts as "teacher"
- Children learn what they are told to learn
- Essentially, this is "school at home"

Unschooling:

- No curriculum
- Is a way of learning and a lifestyle philosophy
- No grades, tests, "homework"
- Mom and Dad act as guidance so that the kids can teach themselves
- Children learn what they want to learn, when they want to learn it
- Essentially, this is life-long-learning

Does that makes sense? Do I need to elaborate further? All right then.

In some, (most, I think) but not all U.S. states unschooling is perfectly legal. There are no compulsory schooling laws, and for that, we should all be thankful. There's no compulsory working law that says "everyone, once they reach X age must go into work in a factory" so why should there be one that makes going to factory schooling compulsory?

I digress.


Unschooling is a lifestyle where children of all ages are counted as just as important as adults, where at the end of the day the goal is to have lived free, not be fed a mash of information that you will never use again in your life, unless you go into a specific field.


The previously mentioned commenter asked how I would get my high school diploma.

Well, I'm not going to. I don't feel I need one. However, if I did, I would have to get my GED. I would do that by studying up and taking the test, like everyone else.
I can get my GED at any time I want, so it's not like if I don't get it TODAY, I'll never get it.

Usually, after getting asked about my GED, I get asked about college.
Colleges LOVE unschoolers. We are self-motivators, we are free thinkers, and those things are what colleges like.
How would I get in?
I would take the entrance exam. Just like everyone else.
If they needed a GED, I would get a GED. Just like everyone else.
Or, I could take courses at a community college and then transfer over to a larger school when I had enough credits. Just like anyone else can do.

The last question I was asked in the comment I keep referencing back to was "What happens if you have a falling out with whoever is teaching you at home?"

I have never been asked that before.
I have been asked if I am Amish, however. Go figure.

Anyway, in answer to that question, I don't really know.

My dad, who moved out of my house when I was nine has always been a supporter of unschooling, in spite of his being a high school teacher.
Both my moms (one biological, one not) have been amazing, helping me along my path, supporting me in every way, and overall being the two most fantastic womyn I could hope to call "Mom".

Last week, my dad told me that he didn't support my lifestyle, that he thought I wasn't independent, that he thought the business I'm starting will fail, that he essentially thinks that I am shooting myself in the foot for later in life.

I explained to him, just as I have explained to you, all about unschooling.
I thought he understood. I thought he had supported me for years. I guess not.

I know plenty of grown unschoolers who live rich, varied lives that don't look like the mainstream way. They are all amazing people, their life paths just don't follow the typical direction. They travel, own their own businesses, give speeches, make music, and all live perfectly full lives without school.

He seems to think that there is one life path, get GED/ high school diploma, get fast-food/checkout-clerk job, college, graduate, get job in area of degree, move up corporate ladder, (Get married, one assumes is in her at some point, dunno when), set aside money, keep moving up corporate ladder, retire, die.

I wish he could see that I am doing with my life what is right for me, instead of trying to make myself fit into the conventional world.

Not everyone is the same, why should our lives look like the same?

~Whimsy

P.S. Any more questions? I'd be more than happy to do a part two. I just don't know what is interesting to the general public. xD It's my life, see, I find it all interesting.

BEDA Blog 1

So. Hello, dear reader! I am doing BEDA (Blog Every Day August) this year. I have no present clue if this will pan out, but I'm willing to give it a shot.

So, without further ado, here is BEDA Blog Number One.


I have a secret Twitter account. It's not that I do stuff on Twitter that I don't want my moms to see, no, they both know about it.

No more is it secret because my cheeks are flushed about who I follow (mostly Harry Potter folks, authors, a few youtubers, and other assorted geekery) or that I tweet too much, too little or use #hashtags.

No, it is simply because I have a twitter. I have laughed openly at the "twitterverse" for years, and I now have given in to my friends (who do not live ANYWHERE near me) saying "get a twitter" over and over and over and over and gone and gotten an account.

I feel like a hypocrite.

You know why?

Because I still laugh at the Twitterverse...dispite being a part of it; I roll my eyes at hash tags...whist using them, and therefore, I am a hypocrite.

~Whimsy