Is that dust?

Oh sheesh y'all. I'm sorry blog. I missed you too; c'mon, c'mon, don't turn away from me. Come here. No, blog... come here... c'mon... I have a post for you! Aha! There you go. Of course mummy still loves you, don't be silly. But I just needed some time to write a book. You know, that Nanowrimo thing I told you about? Yes.

No but seriously, I started like, three days behind and I still finished on time. I am a God. Not really, no. I mean, the book ending was a bit thrown together into a huge, tangled mess because I was in such a hurry, but the middle bit isn't too bad. I mean I know ultimately I don't have enough life experience to write a decent Young Adult Novel; even Maureen Johnson says that you need to live through it to write it. I haven't even fallen in love yet, so it's a wonder I can actually write about that, tbh.

Oops, sorry, just abandoned you again to read the new chapter of Hana to Akuma. I keep making, 'Gah' noises and pulling a silly face; I sound vaguely like a duck. Sorry, a habit had developed and seeped through into my writing of adding unnecessary details since Wrimo (like how it's already abbreviated but I abbreviate it more? That's life on the streets that is).

It's currently snowing fucking bucketloads here and I have NO SCHOOL. No, really; it never really snows here, or, up to last year it didn't, but climate change is... changing that (I want to be a writer). The snow is at least like, a palm deep if that makes sense. And I have to go out, eurgh. It looks pretty, but honestly? It's cold, will get me wet and with the amount of layers I'll have to put on, it's barely worth it. I know I have the mentality of a sour, middle aged person.

Right now, with Wrimo gone, I plan on going ever so more on Tumblr and writing AS MANY FANFICS AS POSSIBLE. I missed fanfiction a lot; I read some Scabior/Hermione because their relationship is just really kinky and addictive and intoxicating. I will also probably play more Smash Brothers Brawl, because I love that game. Who do I play with might you ask? Why, Pit of course! And Link so far, but as much as I have a crush on Link, I'm finding myself not defeating enemies too successfully with him. And Pit is cute too. Ooh I still have a Frankenstein essay too; shite. And some Mock Exams coming up. And a German exam on Friday, should the town be functioning properly by tomorrow. I have therapy tomorrow as well, but I doubt neither I or my therapist shall be able to commute to The Dolphin House Clinic in time, because of all the snow. It's like, six or seven centimetres out there, it's reddic.

*

That was written a couple of days ago. It is now the seventh of December and I'm blogging after dinner even though I'm not supposed to be on the PC.

I just finished some J/A fanfiction and I should really be revising for Science and Maths mock exams, but I can't be arsed. I definitely will before bed, I mean, but still. Lazy, I am. Yet I write like, a three thousand word story instead. Go figure; priorities, hey.

Went to the doctor's today regarding the removal of my wisdom teeth next week; I didn't realise how serious it was until then. I mean, amongst other surgeries, it's like a guppie, but still, I have to like, not eat and stuff. I don't know. I was fascinated by how casually the surgeon sauntered into the room like she hadn't just been potentially saving someone's life; I mean, she was definitely changing someone's life in some way, and that's something you're allowed to brag about. I would have. Also, she was kind of small and her hands were perfectly and delicately shaped; yet she had this air of authority, of strength about her. Like she knew what she was doing with her life.

I also just finished this gorgeous book called The Book Thief. Go read it. It's brilliant and perfectly written. It's in my top five favourite books; the style is interesting and the characters are flawed but wonderful. I can't gush about it enough.

I'll leave you with an excerpt of my Serendipity:

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"I'm bored," Joey stated abruptly and she stood up. She took both Taylor's and Matt's hand to drag them towards the sea. The refused so she looked around the group for approval of her idea; Abigail, being the adorable button that she was accepted just because she didn't want conflict, and James also got up to join them. He looked back at Erin encouragingly and she without hesitating ran down towards the water.

Joey pulled Abigail straight into a wave which got them soaked, while James looked reluctantly at Erin who grinned flirtatiously and used both of her hands to pull him into the sea with her. Erin was surprised that the water was the warm as it licked its way up her dress, and before she knew it, she was pretty much drenched up to the tips of hair in her ponytail. It just felt so nice.

James however didn't really join in and Erin felt bad with him just sitting on the sand all by himself, so she walked out of the water and went to join him.

"You alright?" she asked him, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She realised the flaw in her plan of wearing a white an butter yellow striped dress and going to play in the water; hooray for transparency.

"I'm good," he nodded towards the empty space next to her and she slumped down next to him. "How is Oz treating you?"

"Ah, it seems impossible but it's exactly the same as I remember it," she said warmly. "It's like I never left."

"And Abbie said you're staying for a year? How come?"

"If I'm being honest," she sighed; it was kind of exhausting, explaining what her purpose here was, since there wasn't one sole reason. "It just got a bit, hectic at home, with my parents nearly divorcing and all," she stopped to sneak a look at him; he was looking at her pretty intensely and it made her lose her train of thought for a short moment. "And that kind of led to me breaking up with my lovely boyfriend and I was just a bit lost; I love this place, and I though it'd be a good place to *find* myself, so to speak. Plus the wedding anniversary party and shtuff. Lots of reasons, as you can tell."

"Yeah my parents are divorced too," he sympathised. "And it does kind of mess things up thoroughly. Luckily mine were pretty civil about it but I don't think my mum's really forgiven my dad for the whole affair."

"That's kind of the situation too," Erin nodded. "But if I'm being honest I doubt my dad really cheated. My parents have been disgustingly in love since they were like, fifteen. It took them like eight years to properly get together and my dad's not the kind of person who'd throw that all away. I reckon my mum just needed a little bit of Australia too."

James grinned, "That's understandable."

"Guys!" Joey screamed. "What's the time?"

"Chico Time!" James bellowed back. And Joey asked him to answer "seriously", but Erin just raised an eyebrow at him sceptically; she hadn't known that 'Chico Time' had managed to break through into Australia. He proudly held his chin high and said, "Yeah, I know about Chico Time."

Erin giggled and shook her head; she took James's hand and took a look at his watch.

"Eleven o'clock!" she shouted, which made Joey scream 'Shoot!' and fall over, bringing Abigail down with her, the two of them screeching in harmony. Joey hauled herself up and staggered out of the water.

"I've gotta go, but it was nice to see you again," she told Erin and gave her a quick hug. "We should hang out again soon."

"Sure, I'd like that," she said warmly as they pulled away.

"I should probably go too," Erin lamented. As she stood up, James extended a hand which she took and pulled to help him up. She laughed nervously as this made they bodies be too close for two people who just met.

When she got to the campfire Ethan was dusting off the sand of his shorts. She felt kind of guilty for leaving him since he was the one that invited her, but his smile took it anyway.

"Shall we go?" Erin beamed at Ethan. He looked vaguely taken aback by her sudden change in how warmly she was addressing him, but shook his head.

“I’ve got the day off tomorrow so I’m going to catch some waves, because I can,” he nodded towards the abandoned surfboard that somehow she had not noticed. Maybe she was too busy trying to hit on James without being too obvious (and failed, dear reader, might I add).

"Oh," she replied, "I'll keep you company, then. I don't actually know how to get home."

"I can walk you home now if you like," he offered, and his eyes betrayed the sincerity of his words. She could quite clearly tell that it was something he had looked to forward to; he had, after all, worked all day in that shop, putting up with Auntie Molly talking about her and assisting to the customers who were mostly middle-aged to elderly woman who bought random flowers but were really there just to chat with Molly, with the occasional man who seemed to be buying a bouquet for his significant other. God knows how long he must have worked there for since she got there around nine and he had just arrived.

"No, no, I really don't mind," she told him. "I'll wait. There's not much for me to do anyway."

He shrugged in a 'suit yourself' fashion before removing his shirt and heading towards the water. Erin made a note of how amiable his chest was after she had managed to untangle the mess that had become her thoughts. She wanted to become friends with this New Ethan, who was well-mannered and considerate, but his good looks were going to be awfully distracting; she hoped she could just find a suitable summer fling so she could get this craving for romance out of her system. She felt like this desperate, horny fourteen year old all over again; trouble was, honry, desperate fourteen year old Erin had Jacob to make out with and talk about how much life sucked with. Now? She had no-one, except for potentially James, whom hadn't really displayed a profound interest in her. Fantastic: she was worse off than her younger, more lamentable self. Life. Was. Fair.

Ethan, she noticed as she carefully made her way down closer to the sea, was a pretty decent surfer, not that she was one to judge. The tide was out but the waves were big enough for Erin to be impressed by his supposed skills. He swiftly turned and slid in the waves as if they were barely there and he rode out of them like it required no effort at all. Then, still standing on his board, he threw himself off it, into the water; he would then climb back on the board and sit on it until another wave came along than could be surfed. It was fairly routine, but each time he would add his own little unnecessary quick twist or would stay too long in the wave's tunnel; each time Erin would sit up a little straighter to see if he was alive. And he always was.

Love, Mel.