Fully Mobile
Oh yeah. Legally able to drive now, how cool am I?
That was rhetorical as I know exactly how cool I am, being a 23 year old who only just achieved this.
Having been abandoned for wildflowers, I have spent my day watching Miss Marple.
Because despite being 23 and American I am, at heart, an old British woman.
I was not actually abandoned of course. I chose to stay home and be old.
I even cleaned things and did laundry.
Good times.
Then I got to talk to Ariane. I much preferred when we both had landlines.
I find cellphones unsatisfactory.
But Ariane is wonderful.
Matthew is home now, hooray.
In other news, my nose bled for ten minutes last night.
Just kept going. Forever.
Or for ten minutes.
It seemed longer since it was three in the morning.
I would like to blame my morning laziness on this, but who knows.
I finished my story finally.
Ending and epilogue.
Plenty of reviews.
About fifteen from the same person with below average typing/spelling skills who didn't seem to understand anything.
One from someone telling me she would only read my story if I changed the ending to a "happy" one.
It was a happy ending in fact, just not the one she wanted.
I told her so.
I doubt she would respond.
Many people were clamouring for me to write a "sequel".
I was like 'how can I write a sequel, he's dead?"
I didn't say that because it wouldn't have helped, but really.
Other people asked for another story (a more reasonable request).
I am considering it.
I mean, I have a possible one, but I'm torn between writing the whole thing and then posting it and writing one chapter at a time.
I liked that because I could get the sense that people were enjoying it.
Their requests had no effect on my writing, but it was nice to know people cared.
I've come to realize that this is in fact the only reason that I finished it at all.
If I were just writing it with myself as an audience it would have ended up the same way as everything else I begin to write.
No where.
At the moment I'm feeling accomplished.
I feel that I should probably find a career before I continue writing things that don't matter.
Good luck on that one.
I'm much better at writing things that don't matter.
Or doing things for other people.
Not much good at doing things for myself.
Er.
That doesn't sound good, but I cannot think of an honest way to dispute it.
Oh well.
Good luck to me.