I was just reading my correspondences book (It's called The Wicca Handbook by Eileen Holland and I recommend it) and I just... I think, happened to glance across her name. Earlier that day I had been at Barnes and Noble. The one we have locally has this whole wall dedicated to journals. Half of them are these beautiful (though expensive) leather-bound notebooks, with intricate design...
I was flipping through these today, just casually, and it occurred to me: These would make beautiful grimoires (for a lazy person such as myself who can't and won't bind her own). So I came home later, before I was going to do my nightly meditation/protection (which I have actually been doing... I've decided to go ahead and give Witch School: First Degree by Lewis-Highcorrell a chance, even though I have no intention of following Correllian tradition. It just seems like a good regimen... something I need, religiously). And I'm reading this correspondence book, I think because I'd thought, Hecate. It just popped in my head, I don't remember why, and I was looking her up, and I found she was the goddess of witches and I just heard her, in my ear, saying, It's time for you to make an honest grimoire.
Weird. But true, as far as I believe. So now I'm saving up for a BoS at B&N, instead of a gorgeous custom wand from Etsy. It's alright. This one will be purely for spells and chants that I write myself or need to remember. No correspondences or anything, just useful spells and spell-chants.
So I'm familiarizing myself with the community.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
No one here, no one home, no one helping: more religious babble
1) I went to a church today for the first time in years, a decade maybe. It was Universalist Unitarian. They sung hymns and shared their life activities and talked. A speaker came to the front and talked about jobs and unions and how we should care for all workers' conditions and lives. A chalice was lit, and then put out.
Everyone was old. Fifties on up, with a few exceptions. I was very misplaced there, only fifteen years old; the next person on up was twenty-three, and another visitor, here with the rest of her (mostly aged) family. But later, when we were discussing things - the labor unions, ethical eating - at a potluck lunch afterwards, I felt like part of a community. For real. My mother didn't know the things I was talking about. I had a genuine, intellectual place in the group. That was nice.
2) I've talked to my mother about paganism again. I told her about a little pagan shop I knew of. I looked on Witchvox again. It's not there anymore.
3) I can't learn any more from books. All there is is Wicca. I now own a Witch School book in the Correllian tradition. I am not sure if I like it.
Everyone was old. Fifties on up, with a few exceptions. I was very misplaced there, only fifteen years old; the next person on up was twenty-three, and another visitor, here with the rest of her (mostly aged) family. But later, when we were discussing things - the labor unions, ethical eating - at a potluck lunch afterwards, I felt like part of a community. For real. My mother didn't know the things I was talking about. I had a genuine, intellectual place in the group. That was nice.
2) I've talked to my mother about paganism again. I told her about a little pagan shop I knew of. I looked on Witchvox again. It's not there anymore.
3) I can't learn any more from books. All there is is Wicca. I now own a Witch School book in the Correllian tradition. I am not sure if I like it.
Friday, July 29, 2011
A Vacation
My family and I are crammed into a car for over eight hours. This isn't so bad. I'm in the back right seat. My little brother is beside me, on the left, and my mother in front of me, in the passenger's seat (my usual seat of choice). My father is in the driver's--driving, obviously.
I occupy my time with my old limited edition DS Lite (my brother the same, with his... what, DSiXL? Something). I'm playing Pokemon. It's a Nuzlocke challenge on Pokemon Black. Everything dies; I have a trainer's touch of death, apparently. I become upset. I write everything down in a notebook so that I can make it into a comic later.
That becomes boring. It's dark outside now. We pass through Atlanta, Georgia. I marvel at the city. It's so alive. Cities fascinate me, having never lived in one. On the road I live on, a car goes by about every two minutes at most. We're in the deep country, our house. But Atlanta breathes. I think about going to college here. There's an art college. Does it have sciences, video game design? I doubt it. I'll look into it.
I fall asleep. When I wake up, our family has found a cheap motel off the side of the road. We park our car by the door and go into our room. It's standard. A bathroom next to a refrigerator (the "kitchen" in these places), and two full-sized beds in front of a television. It's gross, a little too bright; the paint on the wall is a yellow-cream, and is directly over a brick pattern that is fairly obvious. I take a restroom break, brush my teeth, and collapse in bed. The place is fine, except for a permeating smell of... must, but something about it make me wary. I sleep on top of the covers, that is, until I wake up in the middle of the night freezing my ass off.
We set out immediately. I've barely even changed from my unattractive-but-comfortable garb yesterday: from a t-shirt and cotton pants, to the same t-shirt and pajama shorts. We eat at a little hub called the Huddle House. I can't help but compare it to Waffle House (which we've seen tons of on the way down to Florida); worse food, less business, and with an understated sort of fifties theme that doesn't seem to come together just right.
We continue on our voyage. We've crossed the Florida-Georgia border now, and we're closer to Orlando, closer, closer. We can't check in until three, my dad reminds us, so we take a detour to Daytona. We drive by the racetrack (my family are fans; I don't particularly like it, but some of it is mildly interesting) and then down to the beach, where we park, run into the ocean, get our feet wet, and laugh until we have to run back. It wasn't worth it. My shorts are wet thanks to waves of varying size and my legs are covered with sand. "Maybe we can come back sometime this week," my dad suggests. My mom has a stomachache. My brother has gotten carsick twice on this trip today.
When we check in, there are a lot of maids going in and out of our rooms. "We're sorry," they say in Mexican and Korean accents. Why don't any white Americans work here? Is it that kind of job, the kind we don't have in our northern, mostly-white state, the kind that only immigrants do? "This room hasn't been rented out for a while. We're cleaning it now." This room is owned by my grandmother's boss, who lent it to us for a week for free. If he hadn't, it would have cost us over six hundred a night. It's a suite. I've stayed in it once before, with my grandmother.
My family is surprised at the size. When we enter, there's a den to the left, with a futon and a TV. To the right, a kitchen, with a counter, a microwave, an electric stove with four places, a refrigerator and freezer with ice/water dispensers, a pantry. In front of us, a dining room with a chandelier; beyond that, a living room, and a door to the balcony. Off to the right side, a master bedroom with a huge bathroom, which has a large bath and a shower, and a separate room for the toilet, as if to show off how much the owner was spending for this place. Off to the left, the room I'm staying in: a hotel room inside a hotel, the two full-sized beds and the television. I make my brother sleep on the futon. A room to myself is wonderful.
We go to the grocery and stock our kitchen, that first day.
The next day, we just lazed around. We went to the hotel pool and laughed and pushed each other. I tried to teach my brother to swim. It rained.
After that we spent a day at Sea World. "We've done Disney," my mom reasons. "Let's do everything else this time." I agree. Disney was boring. But Sea World is more boring, with all the aquariums that I've seen before, last year with my grandmother, for my birthday. The Kraken is a good roller-coaster, but just a roller-coaster, the kind you find everywhere. The Manta is better, with cool aquariums in the waiting line and a novelty: lying on your stomach, feeling like you're going to fly into everything. Journey to Atlantis is good, but I almost pass out in line because of the heat. I am miserable.
We go home. The next day we go to Universal Studios. That's my favorite. I'm so excited. "It's my third favorite place in the world," I declare to my brother, smiling. "What's the first?" he asks, and I say, "My room." "What's the second?" he says, and I reply, "The internet." He protests. I have to explain how the internet is a place (all of that data has to be somewhere).
Islands of Adventure makes me sigh with glee. The Dr. Suess place is whimsical, but not particularly entrancing. My brother wants to ride something... a "High-in-the-Sky Suess Trolley Train Ride," I believe. Boring, but I humor him. We go to the Lost Continent next. Harry Potter is better at night and we can't get in now anyway, so we go around to the Marvel area... my favorite in the park (maybe tied with Harry Potter). I look in the comic store, do the sky-drop (Dr. Doom's... something) with my brother, take a picture with Cyclops. I miss Rogue, when she's out. It makes me upset.
We leave to actual Universal and do all sorts of things there. We watch shows, ride rides, whatever. Lunch/dinner is at the Nascar restaurant in Citywalk. It's surprisingly good. I have pot roast that's better than what we make at home. I can't fit all of it into my stomach. My dad eats the rest. I laugh a lot. My mom gets another stomachache. She's been picking fights the whole trip; I don't think she's used to all of us being together all of the time.
We go back to Harry Potter. I ride Dragon Challenge with my dad. We wait for the front line, but get pulled to the very front of that line because we're a party of two. Afterwards my dad laughs and high fives me and says, "That's my favorite ride this whole trip."
Our feet hurt so much that I'm hopping from heel to heel and they're starting to go numb, but we still but two Butterbeers and I drink mine. It's sweet, like liquid ice cream, so good, maybe too sugary--my brother can't even finish his, because he gets a stomachache. We go into a Hogsmeade shop. It's great. But I soon find that everything is... expensive. My mother humors me and purchases a Gryffindor scarf for me. I debate between Gryffindor and Slytherin for a long time, holding each one up. "I'm really a Slytherin, according to, you know, the internet," I sigh. But I've been proclaiming myself a Gryffindor my whole life before those online tests, and, well, red and gold look better on me than green and silver, and I decide one test can't change who I've been for my whole fandom career. This is a big decision to me. I get the Gryffindor.
On the way out, our feet hurt so much, so god-fucking-damn much, but I get a poster from the comic shop anyway. It's Spider-Woman. I'm a nerd. It's over twenty dollars less than the scarf.
We go to Daytona Beach and I get a sunburn. I put on so much sunscreen that I look eight shades paler than I really am, but I burn anyway. But I'm naturally dark, so it goes away by the time we go home. We spend one day at the beach before I decide I'm done.
That night, we go crab hunting on the shore. We find one. It makes me smile, and freak out, squealing like the girl I am, when it scuttles toward me. We laugh and go back to the hotel. I eat a Milky Way. That night my mom and dad stay out on the balcony. In the morning, when I drop my wrapper into the trash can, I see nothing but Diet Coke cans and beer bottles. I realize that I never want to drink as much as they do.
We spend one day just relaxing before we go home. I spend all day watching a Let's Play of Silent Hill and looking up the plot on the wiki. I stay up until four in the morning doing this.
The next day, I'm tired. We're in the car. I play Pokemon Black, continue my challenge. Everyone sleeps for two hours then wakes up, not at the same time. I get tired of Pokemon. I try to sleep. I wake up. We go to Starbucks. Wendy's. Over the course of the day, we eat at two gas stations. I drink a melon-berry smoothie and half of my brother's frappe when we go to Starbucks again for my dad, the driver, who needs a pick-me-up. I'm not supposed to drink much caffeine, but I drink half of his. It's a mocha-coconut. Too much coffee for him. He was expecting more chocolate.
On the way back we stop at an outlet mall. "We should do some back to school shopping, maybe," my mom suggests. I end up with more than all of my other family members combined. Since it's an outlet mall, everything's cheaper than a regular store. My mom asks if I like Charlotte Russe. I wouldn't know, I say; I've never been. I get a dress and a belt and a pair of skinny jeans. My mom takes me to the next store and the next. And I see an outlet Fossil store. I freak out so very much that she actually takes me in. I find a purse that I saw in our mall for two hundred bucks... for forty-five. I'm so excited that my mother actually buys it for me. I spend the rest of the trip putting things in it. There's an outlet Rue 21, too; I get a minidress and some leggings and some shoes that I've wanted forever. It's sad, but this was one of my favorite parts of the trip, this side stop at an outdoor outlet mall.
We go home. We sleep on the way. My mom and my brother are asleep, my dad is driving; it's too dark to read my school book by, so I turn on my DS to the main screen, the white one, and hold it to my chest. I need to sleep but I can't put down the book. It's "A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier" by Ishmael Beah. I usually don't like nonfiction, but this is pretty okay. When I finally finish it, I stretch out and sleep on my brother's pillow, which I steal from under his head. My dad's decided to push through the night and go all the way home in one day. I only sleep for an hour before I wake up in the driveway.
Everyone pulls their luggage from the trunk and carries it in. I don't remember much, and when I woke up this morning all of my stuff was still in the car's trunk. But I went to my room that night and collapsed in my bed, my clothes still on, and had the best sleep I'd had in a week.
I occupy my time with my old limited edition DS Lite (my brother the same, with his... what, DSiXL? Something). I'm playing Pokemon. It's a Nuzlocke challenge on Pokemon Black. Everything dies; I have a trainer's touch of death, apparently. I become upset. I write everything down in a notebook so that I can make it into a comic later.
That becomes boring. It's dark outside now. We pass through Atlanta, Georgia. I marvel at the city. It's so alive. Cities fascinate me, having never lived in one. On the road I live on, a car goes by about every two minutes at most. We're in the deep country, our house. But Atlanta breathes. I think about going to college here. There's an art college. Does it have sciences, video game design? I doubt it. I'll look into it.
I fall asleep. When I wake up, our family has found a cheap motel off the side of the road. We park our car by the door and go into our room. It's standard. A bathroom next to a refrigerator (the "kitchen" in these places), and two full-sized beds in front of a television. It's gross, a little too bright; the paint on the wall is a yellow-cream, and is directly over a brick pattern that is fairly obvious. I take a restroom break, brush my teeth, and collapse in bed. The place is fine, except for a permeating smell of... must, but something about it make me wary. I sleep on top of the covers, that is, until I wake up in the middle of the night freezing my ass off.
We set out immediately. I've barely even changed from my unattractive-but-comfortable garb yesterday: from a t-shirt and cotton pants, to the same t-shirt and pajama shorts. We eat at a little hub called the Huddle House. I can't help but compare it to Waffle House (which we've seen tons of on the way down to Florida); worse food, less business, and with an understated sort of fifties theme that doesn't seem to come together just right.
We continue on our voyage. We've crossed the Florida-Georgia border now, and we're closer to Orlando, closer, closer. We can't check in until three, my dad reminds us, so we take a detour to Daytona. We drive by the racetrack (my family are fans; I don't particularly like it, but some of it is mildly interesting) and then down to the beach, where we park, run into the ocean, get our feet wet, and laugh until we have to run back. It wasn't worth it. My shorts are wet thanks to waves of varying size and my legs are covered with sand. "Maybe we can come back sometime this week," my dad suggests. My mom has a stomachache. My brother has gotten carsick twice on this trip today.
When we check in, there are a lot of maids going in and out of our rooms. "We're sorry," they say in Mexican and Korean accents. Why don't any white Americans work here? Is it that kind of job, the kind we don't have in our northern, mostly-white state, the kind that only immigrants do? "This room hasn't been rented out for a while. We're cleaning it now." This room is owned by my grandmother's boss, who lent it to us for a week for free. If he hadn't, it would have cost us over six hundred a night. It's a suite. I've stayed in it once before, with my grandmother.
My family is surprised at the size. When we enter, there's a den to the left, with a futon and a TV. To the right, a kitchen, with a counter, a microwave, an electric stove with four places, a refrigerator and freezer with ice/water dispensers, a pantry. In front of us, a dining room with a chandelier; beyond that, a living room, and a door to the balcony. Off to the right side, a master bedroom with a huge bathroom, which has a large bath and a shower, and a separate room for the toilet, as if to show off how much the owner was spending for this place. Off to the left, the room I'm staying in: a hotel room inside a hotel, the two full-sized beds and the television. I make my brother sleep on the futon. A room to myself is wonderful.
We go to the grocery and stock our kitchen, that first day.
The next day, we just lazed around. We went to the hotel pool and laughed and pushed each other. I tried to teach my brother to swim. It rained.
After that we spent a day at Sea World. "We've done Disney," my mom reasons. "Let's do everything else this time." I agree. Disney was boring. But Sea World is more boring, with all the aquariums that I've seen before, last year with my grandmother, for my birthday. The Kraken is a good roller-coaster, but just a roller-coaster, the kind you find everywhere. The Manta is better, with cool aquariums in the waiting line and a novelty: lying on your stomach, feeling like you're going to fly into everything. Journey to Atlantis is good, but I almost pass out in line because of the heat. I am miserable.
We go home. The next day we go to Universal Studios. That's my favorite. I'm so excited. "It's my third favorite place in the world," I declare to my brother, smiling. "What's the first?" he asks, and I say, "My room." "What's the second?" he says, and I reply, "The internet." He protests. I have to explain how the internet is a place (all of that data has to be somewhere).
Islands of Adventure makes me sigh with glee. The Dr. Suess place is whimsical, but not particularly entrancing. My brother wants to ride something... a "High-in-the-Sky Suess Trolley Train Ride," I believe. Boring, but I humor him. We go to the Lost Continent next. Harry Potter is better at night and we can't get in now anyway, so we go around to the Marvel area... my favorite in the park (maybe tied with Harry Potter). I look in the comic store, do the sky-drop (Dr. Doom's... something) with my brother, take a picture with Cyclops. I miss Rogue, when she's out. It makes me upset.
We leave to actual Universal and do all sorts of things there. We watch shows, ride rides, whatever. Lunch/dinner is at the Nascar restaurant in Citywalk. It's surprisingly good. I have pot roast that's better than what we make at home. I can't fit all of it into my stomach. My dad eats the rest. I laugh a lot. My mom gets another stomachache. She's been picking fights the whole trip; I don't think she's used to all of us being together all of the time.
We go back to Harry Potter. I ride Dragon Challenge with my dad. We wait for the front line, but get pulled to the very front of that line because we're a party of two. Afterwards my dad laughs and high fives me and says, "That's my favorite ride this whole trip."
Our feet hurt so much that I'm hopping from heel to heel and they're starting to go numb, but we still but two Butterbeers and I drink mine. It's sweet, like liquid ice cream, so good, maybe too sugary--my brother can't even finish his, because he gets a stomachache. We go into a Hogsmeade shop. It's great. But I soon find that everything is... expensive. My mother humors me and purchases a Gryffindor scarf for me. I debate between Gryffindor and Slytherin for a long time, holding each one up. "I'm really a Slytherin, according to, you know, the internet," I sigh. But I've been proclaiming myself a Gryffindor my whole life before those online tests, and, well, red and gold look better on me than green and silver, and I decide one test can't change who I've been for my whole fandom career. This is a big decision to me. I get the Gryffindor.
On the way out, our feet hurt so much, so god-fucking-damn much, but I get a poster from the comic shop anyway. It's Spider-Woman. I'm a nerd. It's over twenty dollars less than the scarf.
We go to Daytona Beach and I get a sunburn. I put on so much sunscreen that I look eight shades paler than I really am, but I burn anyway. But I'm naturally dark, so it goes away by the time we go home. We spend one day at the beach before I decide I'm done.
That night, we go crab hunting on the shore. We find one. It makes me smile, and freak out, squealing like the girl I am, when it scuttles toward me. We laugh and go back to the hotel. I eat a Milky Way. That night my mom and dad stay out on the balcony. In the morning, when I drop my wrapper into the trash can, I see nothing but Diet Coke cans and beer bottles. I realize that I never want to drink as much as they do.
We spend one day just relaxing before we go home. I spend all day watching a Let's Play of Silent Hill and looking up the plot on the wiki. I stay up until four in the morning doing this.
The next day, I'm tired. We're in the car. I play Pokemon Black, continue my challenge. Everyone sleeps for two hours then wakes up, not at the same time. I get tired of Pokemon. I try to sleep. I wake up. We go to Starbucks. Wendy's. Over the course of the day, we eat at two gas stations. I drink a melon-berry smoothie and half of my brother's frappe when we go to Starbucks again for my dad, the driver, who needs a pick-me-up. I'm not supposed to drink much caffeine, but I drink half of his. It's a mocha-coconut. Too much coffee for him. He was expecting more chocolate.
On the way back we stop at an outlet mall. "We should do some back to school shopping, maybe," my mom suggests. I end up with more than all of my other family members combined. Since it's an outlet mall, everything's cheaper than a regular store. My mom asks if I like Charlotte Russe. I wouldn't know, I say; I've never been. I get a dress and a belt and a pair of skinny jeans. My mom takes me to the next store and the next. And I see an outlet Fossil store. I freak out so very much that she actually takes me in. I find a purse that I saw in our mall for two hundred bucks... for forty-five. I'm so excited that my mother actually buys it for me. I spend the rest of the trip putting things in it. There's an outlet Rue 21, too; I get a minidress and some leggings and some shoes that I've wanted forever. It's sad, but this was one of my favorite parts of the trip, this side stop at an outdoor outlet mall.
We go home. We sleep on the way. My mom and my brother are asleep, my dad is driving; it's too dark to read my school book by, so I turn on my DS to the main screen, the white one, and hold it to my chest. I need to sleep but I can't put down the book. It's "A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier" by Ishmael Beah. I usually don't like nonfiction, but this is pretty okay. When I finally finish it, I stretch out and sleep on my brother's pillow, which I steal from under his head. My dad's decided to push through the night and go all the way home in one day. I only sleep for an hour before I wake up in the driveway.
Everyone pulls their luggage from the trunk and carries it in. I don't remember much, and when I woke up this morning all of my stuff was still in the car's trunk. But I went to my room that night and collapsed in my bed, my clothes still on, and had the best sleep I'd had in a week.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
All the useful things I did this summer
- I had a birthday, making me officially older, which is good I guess.
- I snagged myself a car, a '99 Mustang, red.
- I had a friend who moved out of country over.
- And we watched both Harry Potter musicals.
- I got a tan, though I'm not sure how.
- I figured out how to genuinely love one of my best friends, with whom things have been falling apart for some time now.
- I rediscovered Tumblr. Tumblred forever.
- I started a Nuzlocke comic and quit within the first panel.
- Rediscovered Twitter. Twittered forever.
- Found a bunch of new music I like.
- Kept up on a personal blog for once (this one, to be exact).
- Began and kept up on a gaming blog (Mnemosynister, remember her?).
- Slowly recharged my creative batteries (they're still nowhere near full, but it's better).
- Procrastinated to extremes on the three books I have for classes this coming school year.
- Worked at the zoo.
- Made a friend who had previously hated my guts, on being partnered together one day.
- Made a friend who is male and really cute, and also a nerd like me, but absolutely nothing will happen between us because that is life.
- Attempted to get a job.
- Did not get a job.
- Became addicted to hip-hop and mixed music (dj music).
- Finally became "physical" about practicing for roller derby.
- Scored 20 free admission tickets to the local rink.
- Got really fat, probably.
- Went to the doctor several times, and began to take more pills than the average 70-year-old, including anti-depression medication and three different kinds of vitamins.
- Had to give away my Fiona-turned-Finn (my black mixed-breed rabbit) because of the complications of having a boy rabbit that I thought was a girl.
- My Zinnia did not, in fact, end up having babies, which is both good and so sad (BABY BUNNIES!).
- Played through a lot of games I had wanted to before but didn't have time for (Dragon Age 2, Mass Effect, Pokemon Black Nuzlocke challenge, and lots of flash games, among others).
- Documented them using the free version of FRAPS.
- Learned to effectively use acrylic paints.
- Wasted my time on the computer from when I got up to when I fell asleep, not counting food breaks, on a near daily basis.
- Got some scars on my hands, thighs, legs, and arms from my rabbits. They will be there forever; there's no healing these. Little bloody rascals. Little carnivores.
- Put in gauges, to my parents' chagrin.
- I am currently at size 14 and my mother believes that it is large enough, and that I should not go bigger.
- Acquired a pair of Pokemon boxers, a hand-knit scarf, a purple quilted purse, and a pair of sunglasses.
- Had a child with my best friend, a red rubber bouncy ball that we drew a face on, which we named Carrie Cherry-Cakes (due to her deep blush, which encompasses her whole face).
Off on vacation,
So from tonight to the 29th you'll be hearing very little from me. My family and I are going on vacation in Florida. Sooooo yeah. Sea World, and also apparently other places. I don't even know.
Also I've got to convince my mom that we need to drive to the Disney marketplace so that my little brother can see that huge Lego store, because that place is the shiz.
Oh, and Universal Studios. I've been once before... last year, actually, I think, thanks to my grandmother and some other assorted stuff. The comics place. And the Harry Potter place. Seriously, that stuff was awesome. It was like living in HP-land. And when they offered us Butterbeer... and when the choir came out... and when I saw wands for sale! FANGASM. NERDGASM.
Anyway. Off we go.
Also I've got to convince my mom that we need to drive to the Disney marketplace so that my little brother can see that huge Lego store, because that place is the shiz.
Oh, and Universal Studios. I've been once before... last year, actually, I think, thanks to my grandmother and some other assorted stuff. The comics place. And the Harry Potter place. Seriously, that stuff was awesome. It was like living in HP-land. And when they offered us Butterbeer... and when the choir came out... and when I saw wands for sale! FANGASM. NERDGASM.
Anyway. Off we go.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
dreeeeeams
I had the most weird-ass dream last night. A bunch of my friends and I went on a bike-riding spelunking expedition - we biked through a cave. We'd get through one and then have to do another; every once in a while, someone would die, and we'd have to start over, at the very first one. In the bottom of this first one was this... glowy artifact. And then we'd start all over, with everyone back again. Like a video game.
So we get through the caves, and we're tired and suddenly we're going down my street, and I see my house, except it's on the wrong side, and I live right next door to Luna Lovegood. It's the middle of the night and Luna sees us from her porch, which is all lit up. And by Luna I mean that actress. The one with the incredibly blonde hair and pretty voice.
So my mom isn't out here for some reason, but someone's hurt. Luna and her dad (who looks like absolutely nothing at all, like I can't even remember what he said or what he wore) patch them up. Then we spend the next fifteen minutes arguing over who is going to marry who. I say that it's mandatory to marry someone and if my best friend won't marry, I'd totally marry Luna, so I propose to her (I'm a girl, and also straight, or at least as far as I know), and anyway I persuade her to accept and we go biking down the road again, back into a cave.
AND THEN SUDDENLY, I'm in Toys 'R' Us and nobody's there, no friends, no fictional characters from Harry Potter. Except one of my friends from freshman year pops up and is all like, "Why are you in a wedding dress?" And I'm like, "Well, it's my wedding, duh!" And then we go into an aisle and make out. (This one was a guy. Jussayin.)
I AM TWELVE AND WHAT IS THIS. (Not really. I'm actually quite older than that, but still, WHAT IS THIS.)
So we get through the caves, and we're tired and suddenly we're going down my street, and I see my house, except it's on the wrong side, and I live right next door to Luna Lovegood. It's the middle of the night and Luna sees us from her porch, which is all lit up. And by Luna I mean that actress. The one with the incredibly blonde hair and pretty voice.
So my mom isn't out here for some reason, but someone's hurt. Luna and her dad (who looks like absolutely nothing at all, like I can't even remember what he said or what he wore) patch them up. Then we spend the next fifteen minutes arguing over who is going to marry who. I say that it's mandatory to marry someone and if my best friend won't marry, I'd totally marry Luna, so I propose to her (I'm a girl, and also straight, or at least as far as I know), and anyway I persuade her to accept and we go biking down the road again, back into a cave.
AND THEN SUDDENLY, I'm in Toys 'R' Us and nobody's there, no friends, no fictional characters from Harry Potter. Except one of my friends from freshman year pops up and is all like, "Why are you in a wedding dress?" And I'm like, "Well, it's my wedding, duh!" And then we go into an aisle and make out. (This one was a guy. Jussayin.)
I AM TWELVE AND WHAT IS THIS. (Not really. I'm actually quite older than that, but still, WHAT IS THIS.)
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