Musings from outside the circle
So, I could say that I just didn’t have anything to post about and I totally knew this existed, but that would be a lie. The fact is, I have nothing to post about that I can think of at the moment…so please enjoy this, courtesy of the Failblog.
I remember, at some point last year after I met Susan, I came to school wearing my orange pants (as I often do). I was standing outside Ms. Hsu’s classroom with Susan, waiting to be let in, and we were talking about–something, I don’t know. This one eighth-grader who was in my Algebra class, henceforth referred to as K, suddenly said to me, “Why are you wearing orange pants? Who wears orange pants?”
“Um…I do?” I replied. He looked bemused for a few moments, then said, fairly quietly, “Well, of course you would, Constance, because…you’re weird…” And I swear I could hear him thinking, Damn you, you ruined my insult.
K has not been the only person to do this. The other day in Core, the person next to me, henceforth referred to as M, said, “Only nerds like to read.”
“And?” I said.
“And…you like to read.”
“So?”
“So…you’re a nerd.”
“And?”
“You’re…a nerd?”
“Was that supposed to be an insult?”
M, who was beginning to look very uncomfortable, muttered “No, no” very quickly and returned to what he was doing.
I love ruining people’s insults. It’s so satisfying.
As gratified as I am that Beatles Rock Band has finally come out, I am disgusted by the number of people who are suddenly Beatles fans. Hey, guys? [whistles] Over here! I was a Beatles fan before they were cool in this decade!
If I become cool for liking them, the Apocalypse is coming.
I bet you’re wondering why this bothers me so much. I mean, I love the Beatles. Why should I protest if everyone else does too? Two reasons:
1) I don’t want to become mainstream, although this is less important.
2) You know they only like the Beatles because they’ve suddenly become new and exciting again. In two months they’ll be back with–whatever teenagers listen to now. I am a real Beatles fan. All these other people are just joining in because it’s something new. Kind of like in Ankh-Morpork.
What do you think? Tell me your opinions on this not-particularly-phenomenal phenomenon.
…Probably.
I have recently completed many tasks on my warped mental To Do list, which is my terrible excuse for the recent lack of posts. Let’s review, shall we?
Brainwash Susan with the Beatles ?
Finally finish the third chapter of my book ?
Go to the library ?
Survive the first week of school ?
Finally buy A Hard Day’s Night (squee) ?
Aaaand here’s what I still have to do.
Remember to watch Yellow Submarine, dammit
Forget I ever watched Across the Universe
Talk to my dad about a schedule for guitar lessons
Think of a title for my book
Learn to draw a decent picture of a dragon-gryphon hybrid (long story)
I really don’t have anything else interesting to say, so in closing, here’s a funny picture.
Thank you.
One must wonder what news channels are coming to when one sees this kind of thing.
No one seems to read this anymore. Thusly, I can address my mental goings-on without fear of…something.
I’m going to explain part of something very complicated. I have this little version of myself in my head which is sort of me how I’d like to be. And I wander around through various worlds from books and movies and my own demented thinking. Generally I single out a few characters and stalk them, at least in the beginning. This would explain by Beatles issues to some extent.
Anyway, the other me likes to bug people. One person in particular. So much that I climb in his window at five in the morning just because it bothers him. And I make fun of him a lot, because I know he won’t hit me. (This isn’t because I have control over what he does in my head. I like to stay true to character.) And no, it’s not Paul. That’s a whole ‘nother…thing that’s whole.
Ahem. Anyway, just because I enjoy bugging people doesn’t mean I don’t like them. What I want to know is, can an idiot not be stupid? This question has been presented to me in various situations by a certain talking dog. I’ve stopped making assorted comments because of it. So…answers?
Also, my sanity is severely disrupted by the nosreps. “Nosrep” is “person” backwards. They’re exact opposites of existing people, and a plot device that I made up because I was running out of ideas for ways to—never mind. Well, they aren’t exact opposites in all ways, just in most aspects of personality. Most people never meet theirs, which is good, because it could start a huge war. You should have seen—never mind. But they’ve kind of taken on a life of their own. I reconciled with my nosrep, Ecnatsnoc, a while ago, and we met in an alley while she was hunting a nosrep called Tsiom. Um. So you can see my problem.
I forgot what I was talking about. Sorry.
Just because I said I’d stop with the random posts doesn’t mean I can’t do this.
I have been getting a LOT of spam lately. They’re really stupid, too. On that one post about the argument with my dad, I got a spam comment that said this:
Pretty nice post. I just came by your site and wanted to say that I have really enjoyed browsing your posts. In any case I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you post again soon!
Er. I repeat: This was a post about my dad. Being mad at me. And telling me I had to buy my own food. “Pretty nice post”, huh?
Yeah. Therefore I have installed the SPAM-Be-Gone™! This odd-looking computer-art cannon in the sidebar will eliminate all spam from my site.
Well, probably not. But it’ll be cool.
Sam Vimes: awesomer than you.
Don’t worry, this is probably the last of these. Also, the only reason it’s probably always going to be Vimes is that there never seems to be anything about Moist.
Thank you.
Now read the Discworld books, because otherwise this post is utterly pointless.
I am currently writing two books. One of them is set in the world of Vandermeer, where there are nontups.
I am here to say that the Vandermeer book is not based on my reading of Terry Pratchett at all. No, really. My sense of humor was always like that. Well, okay, maybe a little. I did stick Damp in there. But at least I didn’t create the city of Parody. And it’s not like I’m going to write more Vandermeer books–oh, wait, yes I am. Hmm.
Well, at leadt mine aren’t supposed to be adult books. No deluded teenager will ever read many, many Vandermeer books and then, while obsessively Wikipedia-ing one day, come across this nugget of information and shout, “ADULT books?! Really?!” thereby scaring the cat. And also disturbing themselves with their mental issues.
Or maybe that’s just me.
I plan to add this as an author’s note at the end of the book. Because I’m stupid like that.
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