Wow, I haven't been here for a while...
I've mostly been on tumblr. I kind of want to get back into blogging here. ("Back into" might be the wrong term, since I wasn't very active in the first place, but...)
Anyway. Hmm, things that have been going on.
I'm visiting home for Christmas, as usual. Somehow, my sister (all of seven years old now) has managed to get even weirder. Most of her humor is based on the concept that the words "dead" and "evil" are inherently funny. for example, she was trying to tell riddles last night:
Her: What's a piano?
Mom: *deadpan* I don't know.
Her: Dead! Ha ha ha ha ha!
She also oscillates between hating me and thinking I'm the best sister in the world, often without much reason to switch between the two. This morning at breakfast, she started hissing at me because I got my own silverware, instead of letting her get it for me.
I shudder to think what she'll be like as a teenager. Mom thinks that she's just getting all her teen angst out of the way now. I think Mom is an incurable optimist.
Other than the screaming seven year old, it's nice to home for a bit. Dad's helping me learn some calculus concepts now, so I'll be prepared for the class this
I've been working on a writing project ever since summer. It's a dystopic, heist-fic sort of thing. (Sort of like "Leverage," but with more sci-fi and less straight white male-ness.) But it's long, and I'm not sure how to focus on a long term project like this and keep it organized. It's really hard not to jump to another idea, at this point, but if I do that, I'll never get a long-term project done. Why is writing so hard?
Anyway. Hmm, things that have been going on.
I'm visiting home for Christmas, as usual. Somehow, my sister (all of seven years old now) has managed to get even weirder. Most of her humor is based on the concept that the words "dead" and "evil" are inherently funny. for example, she was trying to tell riddles last night:
Her: What's a piano?
Mom: *deadpan* I don't know.
Her: Dead! Ha ha ha ha ha!
She also oscillates between hating me and thinking I'm the best sister in the world, often without much reason to switch between the two. This morning at breakfast, she started hissing at me because I got my own silverware, instead of letting her get it for me.
I shudder to think what she'll be like as a teenager. Mom thinks that she's just getting all her teen angst out of the way now. I think Mom is an incurable optimist.
Other than the screaming seven year old, it's nice to home for a bit. Dad's helping me learn some calculus concepts now, so I'll be prepared for the class this
I've been working on a writing project ever since summer. It's a dystopic, heist-fic sort of thing. (Sort of like "Leverage," but with more sci-fi and less straight white male-ness.) But it's long, and I'm not sure how to focus on a long term project like this and keep it organized. It's really hard not to jump to another idea, at this point, but if I do that, I'll never get a long-term project done. Why is writing so hard?