Chapter 1 of Typhon is up on my writing blog.

She might have been on the right track with the sign idea.

(The sign idea.) Alright, I admit it. I'm giving off single vibes. And I am so sorry, but I have no idea how to stop it!

I just caught myself flirting with Tom. Tom, the coworker. Tom, who lived next door to me freshman year. Tom, who used to knock on the door when drunk and annoy the roomie. I think that's enough proof that there is something wrong with me.

Tom, Bossman Prime, and I were sitting in the office keeping each other entertained when Tom finds a pair of thumb cuffs on another Bossman's desk.
Tom: "Why do we have these?"
Bossman Prime: "Oh, he found them in the dirt by Wyatt."

Tom studies them for a moment, looks at me, and says "Why the hell would anyone on campus have one of these?"

And what do I do? Do I make a bondage joke? In my head, yes, I do. But what I do in reality is worse. I smile. Not a jaunty grin, not a "HAHA DOMINATION" leer, but a slow, open-mouthed smile that just kinda crept across my face against my will. While making eye contact with a 21 year-old guy playing with thumbcuffs.

Tom turns bright red and starts laughing. This makes me grin harder. Then it hits me what just transpired and I start laughing from shock. "Oh God Tom, I did not want to have that moment with you."
Bossman Prime asks Tom "What did you just do? Are you being gross?"
"No," he says. "Wren was giving me an intriguing look..." And he grins again.
I hide in my hoodie and order him to put the thumbcuffs away.
"Yes, mistress."

I want to die.

Whoa.

Chapter one of the new story is coming along nicely. I am currently on page eight, 1.5 spaced and justified. To give you some reference, each chapter of "The Vorpal Libraray" averaged 5 pages double-spaced. I think I'll be through the chapter in another eight or so pages. IT IS GOING TO BE LONG, GUYS. V:

Hopefully, this means I will be able to post the finished chapter on Friday. The one person who has read it so far is still living and as sane as she was before starting it, so I take that as a good sign.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Wren: I wish medicine didn't suck so bad
Mike: medicine helps sometimes
Mike: you wouldn't be all badmouthing medicine if you had polio!
Wren: Dude, I have the Niagra Falls of phlegm cascading down the back of my throat and into my stomach.
Wren: The Old Faithful of phlegm is currently spewing from my chest every time I cough.
Mike: ew
Wren: AND IT IS THE MEDICINE'S FAULT. It turned me into some sort of bizzare tectonic phlegm hotspot.
Mike: i just ate
Wren: So did I, in a way.
Mike: ewwww

At UPS, we have opinions.

So I'm frantically working through my buildings, trying to get caught up after dealing with the kitchen fire that flooded an entire floor of Trimble with a smoke consisting of white wine, garlic, and chili powder. For the record, whoever thought up that little combo should be shot. It makes the eyes and lungs burn, and now my clothes reek of burnt alcohol and rancid spices. (It's just one of those nights.)

I get to Wyatt, and am shutting up a room when I realise that literally every desk in the room is covered in bored Greek Life graffiti. "The West Side is the Best Side," "503 represent," "Sigma Chi sucks," "Wu Tang or Death," and "Toy Story 2 was okay!"

What.

Toy Story Two was okay. Why would you even go through the effort of carving that into a desk? It's not inflammatory. It doesn't evoke a strong reaction in the gut. It's like riding into battle and shouting "I will probably stab one of you!" Everyone's just gonna nod and go "yeah, that seems about right."


Some people need to learn how to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. OPINIONS, PEOPLE. HAVE THEM.

Of Mandolins and Broken Dreams

iTunes: *queues up Mandolin song Wren spent last semester trying to learn*
Wren: EEEE!
Maddo: *bastardizes song by humming it in a grating maner*
Wren: Stop it, Maddo. You can't ruin ALL my memories."
Maddo: "What?! This song didn't mean anything to you!"
Wren: "Yes, it did! I worked my fingers to the bone so that one day I could serenade you from underneath your window! But no, all I could do was sing "You and me, me and you, both of us togetheerrrr!" So instead of sex, I got Monster's Inc!"
Maddo: *hysterical giggling*
iTunes: *starts playing rather intense mandolin song*
Wren: *begins air-playing the mandolin vigorously at Maddo while wiggling her eyebrows wildly*
Maddo: "THIS IS WHY I CAN'T BE WITH YOU!"
Maddo: *flees!*

further proof that I should not be allowed near technology

Chew Toy, my original iPod, developed a mind of its own before its death. I've mentioned in several posts on here its tendency to choose music that perfectly suited the situation at hand while on shuffle. Before it died, it turned on its own while I was saving it from Tim. Clearly it was a semi-sentient being there

Now, my voice recognition software is beginning to express its opinion of the topics I'm using it to discuss. Today, I'm trying to finish up my paper on the ancient Hebrew view of cities, using the story of Lot and Sodom and Gomorrah as my main example, when it oh so cleverly mangled my words. Observe what occurs when I summarize Lot's actions:

Bad plot is allowed to leave for Zo'ar...

God is going to smite my computer.

brain bad, serotonin good

I learned something new and lovely today. Apparently when the weather changes I feel more pain. It's not too bad, because when it gets cold, I'm already sleepy and about ready to go to bed. It definitely makes the medicine head interesting though.

I got two pages of a paper done using my dictation program. It was actually pretty cool, though I admit to having stage fright when someone else is in the room. I have a feeling that once the novelty wears off they'll pay less attention to me, and this feeling will pass. It will probably make writing more interesting, because it will give me a chance to be in character for all of the dialogue. That would be good, because I really sucked at that as a kid. Looking over some of my other stories, it seems like I have gotten better, but I'm not going to turn my nose up at help.

(Note to self: apologize to Matt for screaming in his ear. Also suggests that in future he not reach for me.)

May I have your attention please.

My writing blog has officially reopened. I will post a new chapter every Friday, if all goes well. Go ahead and head over (see the happy sidebar link?) and let me know what you think I should write- the new story, or finish up the old?

I have every intention of keeping it up this time.

New Hair Photos, Finally

Most of you know by now that I cut my hair off. Before you Neandertals start bitching about me having short hair, consider the following:
1) My hair had been bleached at least eight times and was starting to fray like so many delicate little ropes.
2) I do not have time to take care of long hair this semester.
3) Long hair gets in the way of pretty much everything. Collecting algae in the field? Oh, there it goes in the water. Reading in class? My, what a lovely purple-and-orange curtain! Sleeping? Gak! Choking! And that's not even including a windy day.
4) It's incentive to keep losing the stress weight I picked up over the summer.

I took before and after dying photos, so here is a shot of the old color combo. Didn't it look lovely? (My, what large roots you have!)


And here is what I looked like after one round of bleach. (FLAME ON?)


Finally, here's the new color. A lot of people have expressed shock at how light it is since I normally go for really "saturated" colors, but you have to admit the color suits the style. In the words of John: "That color is perfect for your hair! It's so...fluffy!"


And, of course Maddo got a cut and color, too. Here she is, in all her before and after glory.


When we first rinsed out the dye, we were worried we'd chosen shades that were too similar, but after a wash the true colors showed through.


Are we awesome or what?

Requiem for Warmth

I no longer own any jackets.

When we were moving out of the apartment, Matt and I accidentally didn't check the main hall closet, which is where I stashed my winter coats. I tracked down one of the girls who lives in the apartment now, and she grudgingly admitted she had thrown them away.

No e-mail, no call, no putting two and two together. Just into the trash! It makes no sense to me, but it seems like life's way of telling me it's time to update my wardrobe. New hair, new purse, new earrings, and now new jackets. I don't know that I'll ever be able to find a coat that matches my trenchcoat in sheer awesome, but I shall try.

Goodbye trenchcoat! You were six years old and well-loved.


Goodbye REI coat! You were both waterproof and excellent for stashing rats in.


Goodbye corduroy peacoat! You were perfect for my Russian Hat and Suicide Scarf, and warm.


Goodbye red fleece! You went so well under everything. D=
(so well, in fact, that I have no photos.)

Now I get to talk to my family and go shopping for more new things.

Extra, Extra!

I have cut all my hair off and have real bangs for the first time in six years. You know, I can't figure out why we don't call it "fringe," because it really is far more descriptive, especially in my case. I'll post pictures soon, so stop foaming at the mouth.

I am also preparing to restart the story I wrote in seventh grade that got destroyed in eighth. It hurts to much to actually re-write it, though, so I have decided to take the same premise and tell it from the point of view of the book's antagonist. He was my favorite character, anyway. I haven't yet decided if I am going to restart my story blog and put it over there, but I'll be sure and make another news post when I do.

I go pass out now. Just got off work.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

House is amazing because he is what I will be when I am that age, except for the whole miserable thing (or at least that's the proposed modus operandi in Wrenville).

House is terrible because it makes me realise that no matter how much I want to, I will never get my filthy little paws on Hugh Laurie. That thought makes my life seem bleak. Clearly I need to coerce one of you to grow a salt-and-pepper beard, don violently blue contacts, and talk dirty to me in British English. Use words like "dodgy" and "sodding" a lot. Drink tea from red mugs, and be scathingly witty to anything I suggest to pass the time.

...So, any takers?

D=

Dear Lovely Cafe Employees:

I know that I live in the cafe and know you all by name. I also appreciate that you remember me and can at least guess halfway what I will be ordering that day.

I also know that you are being nice by giving me free things, but it would probably be in the best interest of the world to stop offering me extra shots of espresso. I CAN'T SAY NO, and then everyone has to deal with an awake and uncontrollably shaking Wren WHO LOVES EVERYONE OMGGGG.

For some reason, beloved cafe people, that terrifies my friends.

Love,
The girl who wants to climb back in her sullen shell like a confused cicada.

Oh, Freshmen!

Asked today in Geology class: "Wait, are snowflakes solid?"

They're not getting any better.

It has been another one of those weird days

I have been doing a lot of homework today. A few minutes ago I finally snapped and had to rant to someone. Poor Tim.

Wren: Please give me one good reason why I am being forced to translate Pidgin into Latin. AND WHY DO I SMELL LIKE HONEY AGAIN
Tim: Pidgin into Latin? what?
Wren: I AM REQUIRED TO TURN PIDGIN INTO LATIN
Tim: I don't even know what that means
Tim: you are saying words
Tim: and they make no sense.
Wren: a good man = gudfela man = vir bonus
Wren: VIR BONUS, CUZ.
Tim: okay A: what is pidgin.
Wren: Pidgin is a bastardized English spoken by Samoans, among others.
Wren: AND DO PEOPLE ACTUALLY SPEAK ESPERANTO?
Wren: no!
Tim: no, they don't
Tim: you need better classes or something.
Wren: it's a linguistics class. Given examples, I can easily decipher the structure of a language.
Wren: He's making a point.
Tim: oh.
Wren: bah. disfela man i-gudfela.
Tim: I'm lost again.
Wren: bahaha
Tim: eanie.
Tim: meanie.
Wren: miney?
Tim: D:
Wren: MO!
Wren: :D
Tim: THROWING THINGS AT YOU
Tim: they will arrive eventually.

For the record, nothing has yet arrived.

LOLRATS OMG

And the semester comes together

I'm keeping all my classes, and since I just got both my work shifts, I have a pretty good idea of how my schedule is going to look. So, without further ado, here is my Intimidating Semester Schedule (tm).

Monday:
9:30 AM- Wake up.
9:50 -10:20 - Exercise with Maddo
10:30-10:45- Get ready for class
11:00 - History of the English Language
12:00 - Geology 101
1:00 -Ancient Cities
2:00 - OMG FOOD NOW!
3:00- 6:00 -Where did my brain go? (Alternately, homework)
6:00 -6:45 - Dinner with House
7:00 - 8:00 - Prepare for Heroes (woo comic house events!)
8:30 - 10:45 - HEROES
11:00- 12:00 - X.X;;

Tuesday:
9:30 - Wake up.
10:00 11:50- Geology lab
12:00 - 12:30 - lunch
12:30 - 4:30 - Marine Interactions
5:00 - Theme House Coordinator Meeting
6:00 - Dinner with house
7:00- 10:00 - Homework
10:00 -12:00 - X.X;;;

Wednesday:
9:30 AM- Wake up.
9:50 -10:20 - Exercise with Maddo
10:30-10:45- Get ready for class
11:00 - History of the English Language
12:00 - Geology 101
1:00 -Ancient Cities
2:00 - OMG FOOD NOW!
2:30- 4:00 -HOMEWORK OMG
4:00 -12:00 - Work.
12:00 - ZZZzzZzz...

Thursday:
9:30 - Wake up.
10:00-10:30 - Exercise with Maddo
12:00 - 12:30 - lunch
12:30 - 4:30 - Marine Interactions
5:00 - ELEMENTS meeting
6:00 - Dinner with house
7:00- 10:00 - Homework
10:00 -12:00 - X.X;;;

Friday:
9:30 AM- Wake up.
9:50 -10:20 - Exercise with Maddo
10:30-10:45- Get ready for class
11:00 - History of the English Language
12:00 - Geology 101
1:00 -Ancient Cities
2:00 - OMG FOOD NOW!
3:00- 6:00 -Where did my brain go? (Alternately, homework)
6:00 -6:45 - Dinner with House
7:00 - 10:00 - Homework!
11:00- 12:00 - X.X;;

Saturday:
Sleep in!
Field trips, camping, and general layaboutness.

Sunday:
8:00-4:00 - Work.
4:00 -6:00 - Veg.
6:00 - 10:00 - Homework!

Ad nauseum.

ZOMG FALL 07

I never thought a class about algae would be SO FUCKING INTERESTING. XD

I knew I was tempting fate with yesterday's post.

My bicycle has been stolen.