it is a truth universally acknowledged

Lately I've been looking for sewing patterns online, and have come across quite a few fashion blogs. Thus I have not only realized how unfashionable my own blog is, but have also decided to post more pictures! Don't worry, no one will have to suffer through seeing me decked out in fuzzy pyjamas online. I'll save those for you mum.

Moving on, I only have... *counting on fingers* five and a half days before Spring Break commences! I'm going to Prince George, a crappy city about 7 hours away. It might not be that great, but it does have some decent clothing stores. And a Chapters--maybe? I'm kind of anti-Chapters, for basically the same reasons that I'm anti Starbucks. Big corporations, so-so products. But the BOOKS. Last time I was in a Chapters, I swear the whole 'Teen Lit' wall was covered in vampire books. This time I'm hoping for at least one Kraken romance.

Speaking of romance (no, don't get your hopes up, my life is still extremely one-dimensional) I'm reading Pride and Prejudice again. I love it. Mr. Darcy is the win. Aside from that, very little has been going on in my life. Magazine stuff that I've been neglecting. A fish who is rather hungry. It's all good.

Love,
Erika

things I'll never say

Oooh. Ahhh. Ouch.

I have been injured.

These past few days/weeks/minutes have been pretty hectic. I guess it all finally caught up to me when I decided to fling myself towards the pavement... Or something like that. Okay, so, in actuality I was long-boarding (basically skateboarding but for the purpose of transport, not so much tricks, and on a, uh, long board) with my brother downtown when I found the concrete growing rapidly closer.

I fell, nearly hit my head (good thing I didn't, too, because I wasn't wearing a helmet. I'm a firm believer in the whole a floppy hat can protect me just as well, plus it's really the thought that counts sect. No, actually, that's pretty horrible! I don't have a helmet that fits, though), scraped both of my hands and both of my knees. Lucky me tonight was yoga night. Considering the majority of poses we were doing involve being either on your hands, knees, or both, that would result in mucho pain.

Euughhh, I have a sick mind.

This reminds me of childhood injuries and all that fun stuff. I guess I'm seriously getting old considering my body hurts a LOT when in the past I could just shake off epic falls like this. Or should that be epic fails? Hmm. So I plan on doing little more tonight than catching up on vlogs, re-reading Pride and Prejudice and drinking copious amounts of tea. Practice trumpet/cello or write? Bahhhh.

Have a great day!
Erika

I should've known better with a girl like you

Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavement, even if it leads nowhere? I like Adele. At first I wasn't sure, but I think I like her. Right now I'm sitting outside on the concrete in front of my house, enjoying the last of the day's warm February sun and listening to music.

Today was a good day, thanks for asking. Even though several people asked me randomly, "Are you okay?" Guess I was just giving off that kind of vibe. In French our teacher showed us Rebus puzzles--or 'Rapist Puzzles' as half of the class remembered them. They're words positioned in a certain way to make an idiom. Ex:

Cut

Cut Cut Cut Cut Cut

It's meant to symbolize "a cut above the rest". It was a good class, despite the fact that we learned no French what so ever, which seems to be a recurring theme in my class. After the bell rang, K and I went up to our teacher and told her a bunch of bad jokes (courtesy of Fifty jokes in four minutes by the Vlogbrothers). What's brown and sticky? A stick.

So much linkage! I feel connected. I don't know if I've mentioned my friend K much--also known as Akina-Hana, but one letter is about all the effort I have left in my freezing fingers at this point--or Laura. We get on. I was kind of grumpy this morning, so sorry about that, K. And as for Laura, apparently most of her classmates didn't know she was a girl until grade 3. Oooooh, internet burn. Sorry, from now on I'll try to keep this more professional.

I never realized what a kiss could be, this could only happen to me, can't you see, can't you seeeeee... That when I tell you that I love you, you're gonna say you love me too. And when I ask you to be miiii-iiiine, you're gonna say you love me too.

If this is love you gotta give me more.
Give me more, hey hey hey.
Give me more.

Erika

this way comes

Today is a proud day. I've just received my first email in offer of, shall we say, genital enhancement? I have hotmail and it usually filters all of that out, especially compared to my old email account where half of the mail was spam. It's been a little lonely. Sure, the emails were in my junk mail folder, but the general feeling was the same. Thanks for looking out for me and my non-existent penis :)

School has been rough, life has been rough. I've become crazy busy of late--I'm doing yoga, band, jazz band, cello, Youth Advisory Committee, school magazine, and babysitting. And if I can fit in a little writing here and there (generally at school, huddled over my paper hoping no one else can read it) then that's just a bonus. Apparently blogging has been cut out, though. And showering. No, I'll stop being gross--but it might be the next to go. That, or sleep.

I don't know if I've said this already, and I don't think I have so I will now just because I like to brag and I'm a horrible person. I GOT IN TO PEN-WRITERS!!! I live in northern BC, and another BC town--Penticton--has a group of writers and publishers that hold contests and events and stuff, including a youth writers camp in the summer. And my short story won me a spot at it!

At this point I'm not 100% sure if possibly they just accepted everyone who entered, and it wasn't so much a contest, but no matter what I am S-T-O-K-E-D. Not only will the writing opportunities be amazing, and I'm sure I'll learn a ton, but my friend also got accepted through her poetry! Check out the website here--my name's on there :D

Beep, beep, beep! I'm making a cake for my friend's birthday tomorrow, and the timer keeps screaming at me. If you ignore it for over a minute, though, it kind of dies away.

Do you smell something burning?

Erika

that could be you

Who forgot about their blog? -sheepish smile- Not I, of course.

It's been a busy week-and-a-bit. Actually, I have no idea how many days it's been. But I've been busy!

Anyways, today I realized for the first time that "iPad" is a real thing. I always just sort of thought it was people spelling iPod wrong. Every time I saw it mentioned in conversation or writing, I would inwardly smirk. Yes, I was secretly judging all of the "iPad" users out there, and I'm not afraid to admit it. Well, maybe a little.

Rough draft of a scene from whatever-it-is I started writing last night:

I’ll never get used to this; Izzie grimaced and tightened her grip on the pole. Riding a broom was one thing, but taking the subway was completely different.

A man sitting down beside her smiled sympathetically. “I’ve been riding this train every morning for the past sixteen years,” he smiled, “and I still get a little nauseous.”

At least you get to sit down, Izzie thought irritably as the train gave a sudden violent jerk. Of course she had to sleep in and catch a train right in the middle of the morning rush hour.

All she did, however, was smile. The man was wearing a worn tweed coat with patches sewn over the elbows; not the sort of thing you saw much these days. He seemed pretty nice—for a human. And he was certainly ready to talk about his life. Izzie felt bad that she wasn’t quite for forthcoming herself. There was something about being crammed into a constricting compartment, squeezed in like sardines, with hardly enough room to breathe, let alone think or move—

Izzie stopped herself before she continued on her rant. If she had it her way, she wouldn’t have taken the subway at all, but some people insisted that she try her best to fit in with the mortal world. Izzie scowled at the very thought of it—why should she? You see, there was something about Izzie that not many people knew—certainly not the man on the subway. If he knew, he wouldn’t be chatting away to her about his grandchildren. Instead, he’d probably start brandishing crosses and sprinkling ‘holy’ water on her from the reusable water bottle at his side. Well, at least he was environmentally friendly, and that was more than she could say for some of the people who tried to prosecute her kind.

Izzie nodded politely and shot the man a strained smile as he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet—he was going to show her pictures of his grandchildren. She almost couldn’t bear the irony of it.

Thing is, Izzie was a witch.

That's all I've got! I should be working on a Socials project for the Woj (my Social Studies 9 teacher) but I feel creatively desolate. I am an empty shell.

Love,
Erika