Yay

I haven't blogged in a week. I've been tired and stressed and portfolio day didn't go nearly as well as I had hoped, but that's okay. It's fine. I'm alive, I'm mostly functioning, my hair is blonde (but not the parts that I can actually see without a mirror. Funny, that.) I was Narcissa for Halloween.
I have these ideas of stories that are told with words and pictures, but they're not illustrated, per say. They're just stories with images that sort of vaguely relate. Not like when people (not naming any names here) are writing a blog post and are like "OMR, no one will read this without a PICTURE" and proceed to find a random picture of a field or sunset on flickr and post it. These would be illustrations, and they would preferably feel like this and this and this. Like the kind of book that you just want to put on your shelf and read and love and sniff occasionally.
The pile started to fall over today after I turned the light off and hit it at the wrong angle. This is slightly worrying. Do I need a new bookshelf? What am I going to do with these books when I get to college?
NaNo Excerpt time? I think so. You should feel so privileged in that you are allowed to read this, which just so happens to be my baby. I may have gotten into a physical fight with someone who was larger than me in order to maintain possession of this book. It's that important.

She insulted me, yeah, but the way she insulted me, you could tell she was thinking about how I felt and what I thought and what my place in the social order was. That's an exciting feeling that someone who was once a far off social stretch has noticed you and given you some thought.

So that's the end. It's a short excerpt. Also, why on earth am I incapable of writing a character who doesn't sound exactly like me? WHY? Am I just too cemented in my voice? WHY?
Also, I'm so freeking behind on my wordcount. Like, 3,600 words behind. Kill me now, kthnxbai.