Plaid.

It's a big deal around here.  And stripes.

Merry Christmas, everyone.
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I just wanted to show you

My four favourite A Softer World comics of all time.
In chronological* order.
Here They Are, Love.
I might've just posted this on my blog so that I could close out of the tabs on Chrome and not feel like I was losing something.  Maybe.
Let's forever remember December 22, 2011 as the day Door Sixteen, who I love and adore, tweeted me.  Let's also remember it as the day I looked like an idiot in front of her.  NBD.
Also, big things are happening in the future involving fiction.  And it'll probably be very exciting very soon.  I'm pumped for it, pretty much.
Christmas is the day after tomorrow.  That's odd, isn't it?  I mean, I'm sitting three feet away from my Christmas tree, but it doesn't feel like Christmas yet.  Is it the astonishing lack of snow?  Is it the fact that I haven't sung any carols this year?  Who knows.  Huh.
*I spelled "chronological" right on the first try.  Like a boss.

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Create.

You know, like, make stuff.  I need to do that.  I need to make something for myself, something not school related, something that is satisfying and makes me feel like I matter.  I should really work harder on this novel.  I like it, I like it a lot, but it's hard to motivate myself.
Okay.  Here's the deal(io).  My current wordcount is 3391.  By the time I go to sleep tonight, it will be 8,000 or higher.  And, as an added bonus for my lovely, lovely readers, there will be a drawing, created by me, of something in my bedroom.  Probably my chair.  Or desk.  Posted on the blog.
Making promises is probably a good way to force myself to do stuff.

Today during lunch, I made myself a new twitter profile image.  I like it quite a bit.  I used the tutorial made by the ever-inspiring Door Sixteen.

And here is a random picture that I took quite some time ago.  It's muffins.

Senior Skip Day?

Today was Senior Skip Day.  Also known as the beginning of my five day weekend.  Also known as the day before Chris Colfer's 21st birthday.

 Sigh.  So perfect.

 So adorable.  I love that word, adorable.  Just the way it rolls off the tongue.

 So inspiring.  Sigh.

Senior skip day was so, so awesome.

 Since it was the day of skipping, bunches of friends went out to lunch and I dragged Derek to the DIA.  It was a party.  He judged me for taking myspace shots in the art.

 

And caring excessively about the sinks.  but really, they're perfect.  They're going in my dream house file.  This is not the first time I've noticed them.

 There was a lion.  It was pretty cool, I guess.

 This guy?  Terribly dapper.

 I like this.  I do not know why.

 You know what this reminds me of?  EAMESICLES.  YES.  LOVE IT.

 It may look like macaroni and cheese, but it is not.  Really.

 This is a piece of my own, entitled "Museum-goer" We actually saw other people, seniors, from our school, at the DIA as well.  It was weird.

 Another stealthy mirror shot. 

 A pimptastic couch.

 And then, I went to Lauren's and watched Glee.

 It was really fun.  Really, really fun.

Just remember, Andy is watching you.

You just got poemd

Get it?  It's like pwnd.  Except poetry.
This is another one of those things that I find to be hilarious and no one else thinks is vaguely funny.
I'm pretty sure I like this about myself, because it's good to think that things are funny.
So that's you know, good.

I've written my poem for AP Lit.  It's a really nice poem.  I don't want to post the whole thing here.  I want to post one stanza, but if I post one stanza, people will connect that one stanza to the poem on the wall of the classroom.  I need to write more.  I need to post a Fiction Friday every day of the week and I need to make that comic a reality (because it would be the same kind of funny that I am (not funny at all)(I'm pretty sure that the use of nested parenthesis when words are present is illegal))  Maybe this summer.  I'm going to be lacking internets this summer, so...maybe.
In other news, I've decided on the topic of my NaNoWriMo this year.  Be jealous.  Be comforted by the fact that I've decided remarkably late this time around.  I usually determine this sort of thing in the third week of November, the year before I will write it.  I love the feeling of having a novel running around in my brain, keeping me from concentrating on anything at all.
In other news, I need to find a writing contest or fiction magazine or something to submit this one story to.  Because I love it and think it's good and it's basically my wordbaby.
Also, FRANCE.  I'm excited when my mind wanders on over to the thought, but the rest of the time, I'm totally clueless.  Huh.

Inspiration

First off, I just realized that the Picasso exhibit I've been wanting to see was ending today. And I haven't seen it. RAGE.
Youth group was fun tonight. I showed everyone this t-shirt logo, and they liked it. I'm not sure if they actually liked it or if they were just trying to make me feel good. It's always weird when I make something, and it's something that I'm not very fond of, and people like it. It's uncomfortable. I just want to tell them "No, that's not very good. No, really, I swear I can do better. It's just that I have trouble with the computer, and I was drawing with a mouse, and I can't figure out how to make the path tool work correctly, so when I had it all plotted out, it just went and erased itself. My idea was so, so much better than the execution, it really was!" but they're just like "Ahhh, I like it. What colours is it going to be?"
Like that, but with text on the right. Is it blasphemous to change the cross and flame logo? The double flame is something that's a little...irritating.

So, I'm thinking about inspiration.* See, I've recently added a number of images to my bedroom walls where I keep pretty things. And I've asked myself "Is this too much? Is this overpowering?" and then I say "Why not? If you have walls, why not plaster them with the things that make you happy and inspire you and remind you of the DIA and The Importance of Being Earnest and last years auto show and Alice in Wonderland and buildings with walls that aren't perpendicular to the ground? Why not? And then I thought of dreams and passions and all those other things that give us a reason to get out of bed in the morning and all the other things that the universe has given us to contemplate so that we don't have to be just slouching towards death and the fact that there is so much out there, waiting for someone to make it. So I want to go draw the self portrait and draw the hipster chairs and draw the weird melted bottles that are like Chihuly** but not as cool and also a lot cheaper. And I want to write books and make a radio play (with all of the NPR personalities who we will kidnap and force to do the voices) and just create things, because OUR TIME IS NOW. So go. Go and do what you want to do, be the person who you want to be and seize the day.

That is all. Goodnight.

*Also, THE KING'S SPEECH kicked some ass at the Oscars. And Anne Hathaway wore about five thousand different dresses. Also, COLIN FIRTH. He may take over Alan's place in my heart. Alan, watch out. Do something awesome, right now, unless you want to lose some prime real estate.
**I am forever amazed at my ability to spell his name. I cannot usually spell "knowledge" but I can spell "Chihuly" right every single time. LIFE SKILL.

It seems like, lately, I've turned into some sort of inspirational blogger. Do not be worried. The change is not permanent. I'll be back to normal soon.

Yup.

I wrote a really deep blog post during finance but it got deleted. It was about social networking and blogging. You should have read it, really. I assure you, it was fantastic.
Anyway, in lieu of a real post, I'd just like to let you know that those chairs behind Kurt in the preview of the next episode? Totally Bertoia. Just sayin'.
Those are some damn nice stools.
What would you do without me pointing out furniture to you?

Reality is out there.

But it should probably stay out there.
They say "Porcelin birds". All I hear is "KURT HUMMEL WARBLERS". Um...Yeah. And Tina finally has a solo...but it was tragic. And when Blaine says that the guy he likes is an assistant manager at Gap? All I could think was "Great, 'cause it's for Cho Chang!" D. Criss, you will forever be Harry freekin' Potter. Twenty years from now, you'll be getting an Oscar, and I'll be sitting on the couch in my pyjamas and crying/screaming about this. And...PINK GLASSES.
That is all.
I'm starting to feel like no one wants me to talk about Glee all the time. But if I don't talk about Glee, then I'll just talk about Harry Potter, and no one wants to hear my insane theories and fanfiction plans for that either.
Maybe I should go back to the real world...

On living

It's a little bit about living. And other stuff.
First off, I would like to tell you all that I am turning into my mother. Case in point: I've been working out lately, and I was thinking of making a list of every time I've gone to the gym and how far I run, how long I swim, my weight, etc. And then I asked myself "Why not just make an excel spreadsheet?"
My mom makes spreadsheets for everything. There's a grocery shopping spreadsheet. There's a college spreadsheet. There's a chore spreadsheet. My mother lives off of spreadsheets. And so, probably because I feel inadaquate because of my inability to find the proper way to print something earlier, I will be spreadsheeting it up.
That sounds so awkward.
Also, Ferris State gave me an email address. No, I will not be telling you what it is. No, I do not actually know how to check it. Yes, I will be hopping in my DeLorean and joining Facebook in 2004. I am awesome.
I finally submitted my camp application today. Fingers crossed on that one. Ahh, I want this job so much ahhh ahhh ahhh.
I've written five (or six?) novels, and this is how I express emotion. Yay for writing skills.
There was a short story that I wrote a while back that I plan on submitting to a contest that I've found on the internet. Go ahead, judge all you want.
Anyway, onto the important stuff: GLEE.
This was me.

Superbowl episode! Yay! I was going to watch it at someone else's house, but then my friend needed to get home earlier and I drove him, so we had to leave. I got home in 26 minutes. The drive is supposed to take 38ish minutes. Clearly, there was a break in the time-space continuium. Anyway, I got home and raced to the tv, turning it on at/slightly before the point when Finn asks Karofsky why he never has a girlfriend and is such a homophobe. Greatness. Today I've downloaded the episode and found that this point is three minutes in. No loss there. I will be giving you my summary of the episode now. Be amazed.
Eh, football. Boring boring boring. Not playing as a team. It's Feburary and Ohio and sunny? Cool. They never sang a Ke$ha song. Karofsky, you are a jerk. Always a jerk. And Sue Sylvester? You are responsible for 3/4 of the funniness of this show. Nice tattoo. I too, take my inspirations from old cartoons. It would be better if that was a joke. I love how Beckey has become Sue's little minion. Poor Artie! That wasn't even a plot point. What's wrong with you guys? Tragic. Bieste is a great character. Football players in the choir room, this is a reciepe for crazy. And I love how they discuss Karofsky's bullying right in front of him. I smell someone getting a bigger storyline. Random Rachel/Puck song? Sure. Because we're all soooo obsessed with Lea. And I love how you sing with Puck to your ex-boyfriend to get him back when you cheated with Puck. The one football player has fantastic hair. Just sayin'. Is it just me, or was there a bald spot in the mohawk? Writers: we get it. The game matters to the football players. Woohoo. La de frickin' da. Puck still likes Rachel. Sueclear weapon? YES. Scared Brittany is...strange. I don't want to die until after Glee gets canceled. It's understandable that you have a devotion to One Tree Hill. Figgins? You are always fantastic. Will? Just go away. No one likes you. Sue, why are you not singing something angry while tearing the school apart? This could be so much better. Aww snap. Drama. Thriller! Woohoo! Musical numbers will reduce fighting. Stop the violence. Is Mike wearing the traveling hoodie? Sure looks like it. Will/Karofsky conversation? This looks like an intervention. I am so glad that the choir room suddenly has makeup stuff and they are actually getting ready for something. This is unprecedented. Karofsky, is your warmup "Born This Way"? ZOMBIE DOUBLE RAINBOW. Brittany has better writing than usual. Sue! Quinn, why do you care? This fight reminds me of the Santana/Quinn fight...so much. Why does no one comment on the plastic surgery? Or the baby? Musical number is kind of eh. I kind of like the idea of Karofsky in ND. And there's a hockey team. rotflol....Gay comment? Number two. Someone wants us to know that he's gay. Stages of loserdom? Nice. Random cut to Dalton and Bills, Bills, Bills? I love how Blaine is the focus of everything there. And remember how Will said that they couldn't move? Hmm...I wonder what Warblers he's talking about. Clearly not these ones, who randomly do flips while singing in a circle. Not sure how that translates onto a stage, but whatever. I want more Kurt screentime. Please? Showchoir is vicious. I love that Kurt does the warm milk ladychat thing. It's hilarious. Someone is desperate to be with Finn again, RACHEL. "Blaine and I love football. Well, Blaine loves football. I love scarves." In my recollection, he said "We love football" and my Klaine shipper heart soared. Rachel can be the tiniest football player ever. Being tackled hurts. But Lauren? SO AMAZING. SHE WILL BRING THE PAIN. Sue? So manipulative. Baby twin cannons....because the writers must make Brittany into a total idiot. Really? WHY? That shot of the audience? Released months ago. Rachel looks insane walking out onto the field. Gold stars on the helmet! TINA TINA TINA TINA. When Tina does something, it's awesome. This is why she needs to do stuff more often. Finn, you are insane. And always the center of attention. Puck is my inspirational speaker. I heart him. Halftime? Totally better than halftime at the superbowl. And Rachel is channeling Idina Menzel so much. Why didn't they do this at Halloween? Yay team togetherness! I would wear any of those dresses. Fantastic. SLOOOOOWWW MOOOOOTIONNNNNNNNN. Annnd, cut to Katie Couric. Or Barbra Walters. Or Diane Sawyer. Sue, you're not a loser. You're a hilarious loser. I just want you to know how I feel. I want to feel something too. Cheerio's budget to Glee Club? That would explain how they can afford new costumes every five seconds. Karofsky, JOIN GLEE JOIN GLEE GO TO DALTON JOIN GLEE GO TO DALTON JOIN GLEE! Why do you fluctuate between being a total jerk and being a semi-decent person? Why be like that? Annnnnnd, Finn and Quinn are back together. We all knew they were endgame. I can't help but feel like she has alterior motives. Sam? Well...the fandom seems to say that he's gay. And that he used to go to Dalton. And that he and Blaine were together. And that the guy who works at Gap is thoroughly freaked out by the Warblers.

Also, the Chevy commercial was fantastic. I need more song and dance on commercials. Forever. It felt very classic. And I like Sam's hair. No more Bieber for you. Also, I saw the third Chevy Volt of my life on Sunday morning. It made my day a little more complete. I am a freak. Other great commercial?

I live in metro Detroit. Maybe I'm biased.
During Sociology, we had a bit of spare time. I ranked my ships. People were amused. Number one is Kurt/Happiness. I love happy Kurt more than anything on that show. Number two is Klaine, obviously. Number three is Lauren/Puck. I have no idea what this ship name is, but it's fantastic. The seven minutes in heaven/she rocked my world comment from sectionals? That rocked my world. Number four is Finn/Quinn. They are number four*. Number five is Tina/Mike, aka The Asian Situation. I like them, they just need more storyline. Number six is Rachel/Forever Alone. Yep. True. I think she doesn't belong with anyone else. I'm looking for the same driven, pain in the butt that we remember from season one. Number seven is Bartie. Yep, they're cute. I'm not hating Brittany as much as I used to. Number eight is Santana/Alone. It's for her own good. Not forever, just so that she can kind of exist as her own person for once. Number nine is Mercedes/Artie/Mike/Tina/MORE STORY. Seriously, Mercedes, Artie, and Tina were in the origional group. It's not all about Rachel and Finn and Quinn and Sam and (I hate to say this) Kurt. There are other people here, and they need attention. Hello, writers! Number ten is Brittana. I'm not that into it, but I think it would be interesting to see happen.
I guess this didn't have very much to do with living. It was all about Glee. Look at your life, look at your choices.
*That was a terrible joke. I'm sorry.

It's final. I'm a dork

But...Middlesex. Page 497. "The chairs are by Mies too. You see knockoffs everywhere but these are original, warn-out by now, the black leather browning at the edges."
I should go to bed. Really now.

Again!?!?

Middlesex. Page 407. "An Eames chair stood behind the desk.By the window was a Le Corbusier chaise, made of chrome and cowhide."
I would like you to know that this is an awesome book, even without the furniture references.

omiroti!!!

I just turned into a thirteen-year-old quizbowler right there. You're either proud or astonished.
I'm blogging twice in one day (quite the mortal sin, in my book) to tell you about something that made me gasp and look for someone to tell it to. You see, I'm reading Middlesex, and on page 37, after they're talking about...well...sex, the narrator writes "As I sit here in my Aeron chair, think E.O. Wilson thoughts. Was it love or reproduction? Chance or destiny? Crime or nature at work?"
Did you catch the important bit? AERON CHAIR, yo! I just make sure to tell people when I spot a piece of furniture I recongize. You should be thanking me for this public service. You're welcome.
What, was that post kind of silly? You can have another picture. You deserve it.I can hear you now "What is that? Is that just some random picture you found on your computer?" Fine. Maybe it is. Here, have another one.I feel like that adequately sums up my life.

Remember

I got my I-Search paper back on Wednesday. I got a 93% on it, and my teacher wrote a really nice note on it, so I'm feeling pretty good about that. When I went to the reunion for my elementary school last night, I said "Hi" to my third and fourth grade teacher. It took her a second to figure out who I was, but then she reminded me of just how disorganized I was (and, er, still am) and said "But you were always such a good writer. Are you on yearbook or something now?" and I told her about NaNoWriMo. When people who don't have to say that I'm awesome say that they like my writing, it makes it much easier to write a novel in a week. I also told my elementary school art teacher about Art School plans.
Yesterday was pretty great. I got out of school (a little late, because I had only written two of the three paragraphs I needed to write on my French final when school was over) and went to a quizbowler's house for what was billed to be an end of the year party. We had pizza and watched some soccer, but it was pretty awkward and boring. Also, his house has the exact same floorplan as my aunt's house. Weird. To avoid playing monopoly, some of us decided to leave. I think the origional plan was to go to Target. We went to the mall because someone needed to look for shoes, and then we spent some time in the Apple store. Then we went someplace else where people actually did buy shoes, and where I contemplated interpersonal relationships. Then we went to see toy story. It was awesome. The monkey scared the shit out of me and the strawberry bear started out as friendly black optimistic advice and turned into like, crazy mafia/Voldemort dude. Rex is my favourite character, btw. And then we went to Target. I love Target. It feels like happiness and perfection is something you can buy, which basically transports us to 1950's consumer perfection. Sometimes, I feel like I should live in the 1950's. And have boomerang formica countertops with steel cabinents. Is that weird?

Spiral

I just saw Sweeny Todd for the first time. It was awesome. Ahhh, handwaving awesomeness. It's the kind of awesome that requires me to invent words.
Among other things, I've been doing an awful lot of thinking about the steampunk novel thing lately. This involves a bit of writing and a lot of imagining what the world should look like. For instance, I realized the following in a burst of awesomeness: The mayor is Edvard Vossa, he was elected on something of a populist platform, against the world that Ixente and her family is a part of. There's about 400,000 people in the city, there's bunches of crumbling gothic architecture, the mayor and the council of seven are elected by popular vote. Legally, all adult males can vote, but measures are taken to prevent "gypsies" from voting. They constitute about 1/4 of the city and are very segregated.
Gee, does this explain my current lack of understanding in Algebra II?
In other news, I quite like this house and this bit of happiness and these videos and this ideal of the Black family* and this drawing and these illustrations and frankly, pretty things make me happy, and I just want to make pretty things. Is that too much to ask? I just want to make people happy with pretty things.

*No blog post is truly finished without a Harry Potter mention.

The internet is mildly amazing.

Hello internet. I love your ability to make me laugh when I'm not particularly happy. I love your ability to make people question what is real, and what is unreal, but so perfect. Also, I love that you gave me Door Sixteen.

If I was seventeen

Okay, those are the lyrics to some song, but I can't remember the title or any of the other lyrics.
Sixteen looked like thisAnd thisAnd this (we have titled it "Samantha is a pretty little princess") Are you feeling the paleness? I'm feeling the paleness up in here.And finally, thisHow are we feeling about that hair? Both of my parents said it looked good, but I think it looks absolutely ridiculous. And, of course.I have also discovered that today is International No Diet Day. Did you have fun not dieting? I did. Also, Tony Blair's birthday and Give Samantha Balloons Day and The Day After Hank Green's Birthday Day. Were those good? Did you celebrate? I was celebrating all of them at the same time. Are you amazed yet?
This next picture is a big deal. It's me, at seventeen. Can you see the oldness on my face?*

Seventeen doesn't look that old, but it feels old. It feels really old. I'm an adult now. A legit adult, one who can buy tickets to R-rated movies and drive after midnight and do all sorts of crazy things. It's kind of amazing. I feel compelled to be something when I'm seventeen. What should I be? There's the whole...book situation, and then there's the art situation. When Harry was seventeen, he was saving the world. There's no pressure, no pressure.
*Please note that I was wearing the Communist Party shirt for most of my seventeenth birthday. This will be significant for posterity and such.

Think

I'm thinking about people, and I've been thinking about people a lot lately, and I keep coming to one conclusion.
Do you want to hear it?
First off, I need to get out of this horrible habit of using words associated with hearing when I'm writing things.
My big, earth-shattering conclusion is this: People are complex.
I can hear you now*. "Samantha, that was the most obvious thing I've ever heard! Of course people are complex!" And I'm saying**, in response to this "Yes. Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake."
It seems like most people, they have all these different faces, and they show them to different people at different times. I'm not sure if they're trying or not, but it seems as though they do. I'm different on the blog than I am in real life, and I'm different on facebook than I am in real life, and I'm different at home than I am at school, and I'm different with one other person than I am with a big group. And goodness knows, I'm different when I'm all alone. This, of course, makes me wonder: What am I? How do I define myself? Who do I want to be? Who was I a month, a year, four years, eight years ago? Was I more truly me at that point in time? Am I truly me right now? And if I'm not me, who am I? Who is out there and worth being?
Really, what I'm trying to get across is this: People are lies, and they are complex lies, and the lies that they let you see tell you all the truth you're ever going to get out of them. I'm a liar. I'm a terrible liar, but each of those lies tells you what I wanted you to see at that moment. It may not be good, it may not be pretty, but it made some sense to me, and I wanted you to know. Those lies, they are the only thing that borders on true. Maybe they aren't some abstract thing that I put outside, but maybe they are me.

I don't feel wrong for lying, because the lies are all I've ever had.

On an unrelated (who are we kidding? Of course this is related.) note, I've been wondering for a while now if my brain functions slightly differently than a lot of other people's brains do. I was playing a game on Saturday, and someone told me to think like they do. I didn't understand. I don't know how to think like they do, and I don't think I'm supposed to know how to do that.

I may be too introspective for my own good.

*See? It's a unhealthy addiction!
**I'm starting to get worried about this issue.

People

French teacher, I'm sorry that I wasn't paying attention in class today. I was busy reading Push. I'm 100 pages in, and I really love it. The spelling is a little irritating, but other than that, it's good. I can't wait until class tomorrow so I can read the rest of it.
It makes me think about people. Well, that and Omegle. They both make me think about people in a weird way. Omegle makes me think of how people relate to each other. When you chat on Omegle, a lot of people ask a/s/l. I never tell them. Knowing that I'm a sixteen year old girl from Michigan really doesn't tell you anything about me. If I told you that I've know more about Harry Potter than I should and I like Quiz Bowl and I like French but I can never remember new tenses and I spend too much time looking at interior design blogs and I want to live in a big city and I was kind of angry at springs and the whole entire world during physics today, I feel like you would have a little snapshot into my mind. I like the snapshots. I feel like they give you so much more, and it tells you something, the things that people choose to include and choose to leave out.
Push? Push makes me think of the huge differences between my life and other people's lives and how our background influences every single part of how we interact with others.

Real titles are for losers.

Today in Art, Mr. B and I were talking about colleges. This is most of what I do in Art now, I haven't worked on my project in a couple days. Anyways, he was telling me about this college that he found that says they're the only one in the country who offers a BFA in Curating. So that sounds pretty cool. He talked about the other college I was interested in, SCAD as well. He thinks that I'm not interested in SCAD because I'm talking about it from a purely academic perspective (the price, my chances of getting in, the programs they offer). Both of us realize that if I was really in love with the place, I would not be talking like this. I would be sort of gushing, like if I saw this building.This is the City Hall in Paris. Isn't it amazing?!?! Yeah, I know it is. And it looks so pretty lit up at night, and the whole inside of it was burned during the Paris Commune (Euro connection!) so the amazing restoration people made the inside all pretty again. Now, if I was one of these people, I would be giddy about this. And look at the ceilings!
Clearly, I just need to run around the world and look at pretty buildings. Does anyone volunteer to pay for this adventure?

Anyways, that led me to thinking about things that I would be getting really excited about, in terms of career plans.

1.Any kind of fiction writing job.
2.A job where they let me touch important old stuff.
3.Making a living off of this blog.

Now that we know this, I just have to figure out what I'm going to do about it.

Quote of the Month

"If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don't have the nerve to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts." - Kurt Vonnegut

But Kurt, what if we don't have the nerve to go into the arts?