Carefully and Painfully

December 27th, 2017
1:59 AM

It's so hard to be a witness sometimes. It's difficult to tell people about Christ and encourage them to believe. Not because I don't want to. I mean, there are times when God tells me to go talk to someone about Him and I'm just like, “Really, God? Right now?” But of course I want to testify and be an example of who a Christian is actually supposed to be, but it's such a delicate process at times.

Believers don't have the greatest reputation. We're made out to obsessive freaks, lunatics who jump up and down and cry and speak gibberish to someone who doesn't even exist (to them). And part of our reputation comes from people who claim to be Christians and do everything a Christian shouldn't. You know, the “Christians”. And then there are the ones who preach and they lecture and they condemn, and they don't show the love they're supposed to. They aren't representing God's love.

We have a terrible reputation, and for the ones who do show love and are gentle and patient, well, we're still grouped up with the others. We're crazy, delusional pricks without an ounce of independence. That's why it's so hard to share faith, because we have to be careful. If we don't, we either offend someone or we scare them away.

So there's a process to it. Some people take an approach like Jehovah Witnesses. Maybe it's a bit scary at first, but it's simple and easy. You go from door to door and you talk to people. They may slam the door in your face or laugh or maybe even argue with you, but the few people who do listen and they start their journey of Christianity are the ones they keep in their lives. They continue to talk to them and teach them things, help and encourage them, and they likely form a friendship. That sounds so easy, and maybe I'm saying that because my method of witnessing can be very painful.

To me this is the most effective way and it's forming a relationship. I don't become friends with people for the sake of converting them. I don't go “Oh! That person's an Atheist, let's be friends with them and show them how to live their life the right way!” No, I become friends with people and form bonds because I love making new friends and sharing life with them. It's because they're cool people and I care about them. Does leading people to Christ encourage me to meet others? Absolutely.

Anyway, I form a relationship with them. I get to know them and they get to know me, we hang out and joke and talk, becoming better friends with them as time goes by. Everyone I know is aware of my beliefs and they normally don't say a lot about it nor do I say a lot about their belief – because you have to be careful – and the closer I am with them, the more I care about them and the more I want them to know Christ. Christianity is not a label or an extra curricular activity, it's a lifestyle. It's hope. It's the certainty of life after death, which is pretty freaking cool.

And because I love people, I want them to know all of this. I want them to know how amazing it is to have a relationship with Jesus, because I know and I wouldn't give Him up for anything. He's given me so much, he gave me a father when I was just a baby. He gave me this wonderful ability and passion to write. He made me look like my dad when we aren't even biologically related. When I'm lonely and I'm crying and I need somebody, he tells me he's there and he loves me. Then he puts people in my life and I constantly think, “God, what did I do to deserve these people? What did I do to deserve your blessings?”

Good grief, I've been through some crap, but he was with me every step of the way. And I want that for my friends. I want them to know that even when everybody disappoints and hurts them, they always have God and he will never fail them. I want them to know that inexplicable feeling of completeness. I want them to have hope and peace. And it hurts because I can't tell them this. I have to be careful or I'll seem pushy and judgmental and rude, but it kills me to watch my friends not know Him. It kills me that they're going on in life without an idea of what they're missing, of who they're missing. I've had friends tell me how terrible they feel. How they feel lost and hopeless and unwanted, and though I tell them I love them and they are wanted, I want to grab their shoulders and say, “Go to Him! Go to God. If you understood. If you knew you would never feel lost again. You would have hope. If you just understood!”

But I have to be careful. I have to ease them into it. I can't be rash or force them into believing. I have to be gentle and patient, and it hurts to see these wonderful people unaware and apathetic. And it hurts even more when I see one of my closest friends try to take his life because he has no joy left. When I see those cuts and the blood and the stitches, I want to go to him and wrap him in a hug. I want to clean his carpet so he can rest without worrying about the stain. I want to tell him that it's okay, that he doesn't have to be lonely. That he has someone who will fill his heart and restore his joy.

I want to tell him all this, but he's sleeping and I don't want to unintentionally push him away. And I just think, what if he succeeded? What if he successfully took his life? He doesn't know Christ. He would only have a certainty of eternal suffering. Eternal sorrow. Eternal hopelessness. I don't want want that for him. He's too precious, too sweet, too great. Much too loved by Christ. He could have it all, but he's sitting in a hospital bed with a limp arm feeling too lonely for words. It's right in front of him, but he doesn't see it. I want to tell him, “Look! It's right here. Your freedom is here, your joy is here, if you would just take it. It's yours and it's free.”

But I have to be careful. I can't push. I can't force.

I can only pray and show him just what it means to be a follower of Christ. I can only slowly introduce it to him as my heart breaks for him.

Change

December 7th, 2017
1:28 AM

You know, things change. A lot and so easily. I look back at myself a year ago, a girl learning how to start again and become a better daughter of Christ. A little thing getting all excited because she finally did something good in her life.

Then I look back at my relationships. A year ago I was only just starting to live without someone I spent so much time with. I was learning to not get excited when I saw my best friend, because she wasn't my best friend anymore. Though it stung, I was just beginning to walk away from things I knew I didn't need in my life. And there was that one relationship, the one that I held so very close to my heart and said, "We'll never drift a part." That one relationship that made my heart skip a beat and a smile immediately bloom on my face. I look back and I realize how different things are.

Things change. A lot and so easily. Best friends you thought you couldn't live without, well, look at you. You're living without them and you feel better, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and it's okay to move on. People you said you'd never stop being close to are suddenly. . . not so close. But it's not a bad thing either. Maybe they weren't what you needed. Maybe you were so blinded by the newness and the excitement that you failed to realize it would never work.

There are new people in your life. People you never expected to be so important. People you're so glad you gave them a chance and opened your heart to them.

You look back and you're hit with the fact that everything is different. You think about it and it hurts, it hurts and yet it makes you smile. You smile and life is perhaps just a bit better. Then you look at where you are now and you wonder how much things will continue to change. People come and go, some may stay with you. You change. You change in ways you never thought possible.

Things change. A lot and so easily. And to be perfectly honest? It's not such a bad thing.

December 7th, 2017
1:19 AM

What the crap in this freaking universe compelled me to watch Ratter?

Almost Empty

November 24th, 2017
12:48 AM

Sometimes I just feel wrong. Like I'm emotionally, mentally sick. I can be fine for days or weeks, but then I'll just suddenly feel all weird and uncomfortable, like I'm supposed to be doing something, but I don't know what it is and I'm running out of time. It feels like my body is getting all wound up in knots and I'll just lay in bed thinking, "How do I fix this?"

Sometimes I'll watch YouTube videos or attempt to read something, but that only makes it worse. I'm always too uninterested and a bit tired. I'll try to eat, too, but it just makes my stomach hurt worse. I started wondering if maybe it was my (mild) gastritis making my stomach hurt, but the feeling, though on my abdomen, is nowhere near my stomach and I know it has something to do with my emotions.

It feels like I'm almost empty. Like something inside of me that I need is slowly draining and I'm helpless to stop it.

It's at times like these when I really miss my counselor. I freaking sucked at talking to the lady, but she was comforting. I really liked her voice and the way she'd talk to me. I wonder if she still prays for me.

I just want this to stop and go back to normal. I hate this feeling. It's been a while since I got it. Maybe some sleep will help.

Communication

September 14th, 2017
7:34 PM

I've talked a little bit about my relationship with my dad and how it's gotten a bit bumpy here and there. With many failed attempts at learning how to do this properly, I've finally learned a way to communicate with him where I can express myself properly without being interrupted. It's actually really simple. I write a letter to him. I wrote him something a while ago and finally built up the courage to show it to him. After he read it, we had a good talk and figured some things out. Though I'd normally be too embarrassed to show this to anybody, I thought that since little to no one reads this personal blog of mine, it'd be fine to share it, and maybe this will be encouraging to someone else who is having difficulties talking to a parent.

-

The date is July 20^th, 2017.

Two days before I go to Elizabeth's house. The day after Brooke and Jean broke the news that they're having a baby.

The day you told us, me and Michelle, that you are fed up.

I'm sure you remember very clearly. You came home to a dirty house and lazy children, as always. You very likely held your anger back and asked us to do it before bed, and you hoped we would. You probably doubted it though, because from the way you talked tonight, those were words were ones you thought about saying for a while.

You get to say what you need, what you've been wanting to say, so now it's my turn. Allow me to explain why I'm crying and feeling angry and hurt at 11:33 pm.

I am lazy. I am lazy and I rarely do anything productive.

You're always saying, “I bet you don't even remember what you did today.”

I do, actually.

Today I went to sleep at 6:05 am because I was up all night reading What Light by Jay Asher. I will admit that I lost track of time and when I thought to check, it was around 4:30 am. It was late. I knew I needed sleep, but the book just kept getting better, so I continued reading until I was too exhausted to. So because I went to sleep at such an unreasonable time, I woke up at 1:56 pm this afternoon. Then I spent the next two hours finishing the book. I also ate chips and dip and popcorn as I read.

It's awful, I know.

Then I browsed Instagram for a little while until I came across an ad for a game. It's called Don't Touch the Black Tiles 2 (or rather, Piano Tiles). I had the first one a long time ago and I was really good at it. It's fun, I like games with music, so I downloaded it and as it turns out, I'm still really good at it. I spent several hours just playing that.

Again, it's awful.

I later went into the living room to show Michelle the game and then said, “Wait, we should do our chores before Daddy gets home.”

She replied, “Daddy's coming home around eight.”

So, I didn't do it. I thought I had time to finish it and before I knew it, I heard your truck in the driveway.

My initial reaction was “Oh, crap. Go and look like you were doing something productive.”

My next thought was, “I can't believe I did it again.”

I do this nearly every single day. I browse, I scroll, I read, I lay in bed and eat, I play games, and I read some more. I think about doing my chores, but I always end up doing something else. I spend so much time doing such useless things, and then I get upset when you fuss.

So I am lazy, I have little self-discipline, I am ridiculous, I'm filthy, I don't care about anything important, and I hate it.

I hate how I live my life. I hate how I get ticked off and snap at Momma anytime she mentions school. I hate how when you were fussing tonight, I wasn't intimidated or ashamed. I was angry. Oh, I was so angry. I was saying so many awful things in my head about you and everything you were saying. When you called me into the living room, I thought, “Oh, dear. It's this again.”

I thought about how ridiculous you were being and how you don't understand anything. I had my arms behind my back for two reasons. It makes me seem submissive and I knew that's what you were looking for. You didn't want to see any defiance because you were fed up and upset, and quite frankly, I didn't want to show it because I knew it would rile you up further. The second reason was to keep my hands out of sight. They give everything away. I mess with my finger and twiddle and pop them when I'm nervous. I clasp them when I'm upset. I pinch myself when I'm angry. I hide my hands because I'm trying to hide how I feel.

I was pinching myself to keep my expression neutral.

I've heard it all before. You work all day and we do nothing. You're tired of our behavior and you're done. No more of this, and you set these rules and restrictions and consequences. I knew it was all coming. I expected it. Nearly everything you said has been said several times before. I've heard it all, so it didn't have much of an effect on me.

At that point I'm just thinking, “Do you have to repeat everything over and over again? Yes, I heard you. Get to the point. M.C Beth double updated today and I was in the middle of chapter 19. Hurry and let me get back to it.”

Now, of course I was planning on getting everything straightened up as you asked, but nothing major changed while you were giving your speech. That talk, the scolding, its mark in our minds is temporary. It always is. Something would've changed long ago otherwise.

Anyway, it wasn't until you said something new that things changed. You said, or at least something along these lines, “I'm done with encouraging. It's not working.”

When I heard that, I pinched myself harder. My anger flared, but it soon morphed into hurt. You're done? You aren't doing it anymore? But Daddy, when did you start?

I remember for about a week, you would tell me, “I would like to encourage you to get your chores done.”

Every time you said that I would laugh a little. That's not what I meant at all, but it warmed my heart that you were trying. I thought that you would get better at it. You would learn what buttons to push to get me going, but I've come to realize that I don't know where those buttons are. I don't even know If I have them anymore.

I am unmotivated. I don't care about doing anything and even when I want to care, I can't bring myself to. I don't feel like doing anything ever and absolutely nothing motivates me.

I know I'm smart, but I have no motivation to do school and show my intelligence. I know I am capable and I can be hard working, but I don't ever care. It's gotten to the point where I don't know how to do things anymore. How do I get up and do that math I'm falling behind in? How should I go about it? How do I get to the point where I can just go and do what I'm supposed to?

Then I have the audacity to be embarrassed when school and grades are brought up around my friends. Michaela got above average on her ACT. Zack is really good at math, a while ago he gave me a tip about something and I didn't even know the terms he was using.

I'm embarrassed and yet I do nothing to change it. I often ask myself why I'm like this. Why can't I find it in me to just do it?

It has also bled into the things I enjoy. I started writing An Expectant Whirlwind months ago and I'm just now beginning chapter five. I wait until the very last minute to write my part of the Ladyblog. I haven't studied for my psychology test, you know, the thing I specifically asked Momma to get for me. It's been a couple months since I've written for my personal blog. It's not just procrastination, it goes a step further. I've already said it a couple of times, but I think this calls for bold letters.

I am unmotivated.

And I don't know what to do about it. It kills me everyday. Sometimes I think I'm broken.

So after coming to this conclusion, I asked myself, “What am I trying to get Daddy to do then?”

You're right, it's not working. It's not working because nothing works on me. I think what it was is I was hoping that you changing how you disciplined me would change me. I wanted it to work, but I continued to lay around and do nothing. I just read all day with no regard, and then I worried and stressed about the things I was supposed to do while not doing them.

I also think that some part of me knew it wouldn't work and I just wanted someone to pin the blame on. And boy did I blame you. I was bitter and I'd grumble about it in my fantasies. I had somehow convinced myself that it wasn't my fault.

Though I wasn't lying when I said that the way you reinforce things hurt me. Cause it does. It hurts a lot.

So while I was still angry after you left, I do what I always do while blaming you, I Google things for you. I type in questions in the search bar as if I were you looking for answers. This time around my first one was “What does encourage mean” The suggestions added “in the bible” so I clicked on that.

After all, what better way to convince you to do something than to have the bible back it up?

Yes, I'm horrible.

After looking through some articles, I found one that really spoke to me. I was originally looking for an expanded definition of encourage to prove a point to you or something, but this one made me think that maybe I don't know what it means.

This is what it said (yes, the whole thing):

Did you know that the Greek word for “encourage,” parakaleo, appears 105 times in the New Testament? That’s a lot! Encouragement is one of my spiritual gifts, and I’m very passionate about it. Over the years, however, I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding about what it really is.
Somehow, encouragement has become confused with complimenting or praising others. While praise can be part of encouragement, it doesn’t cover the full meaning of the word. We often think of encouragement as saying nice things to others to make them feel good about themselves, but this is closer to the definition of a compliment. Encouraging someone can mean you’re giving them support or confidence, but is also means that you’re helping to develop something in them.
When the Bible talks about encouragement, it usually means that one is calling someone to their side in order to teach, comfort, strengthen or push them to act in a certain way. There are a few other words in the Bible that have similar meaning, such as exhort, warn or admonish, but they are mostly used in Paul’s letters. People who encourage others say with love what a person needs to hear, when they need to hear it–even if it isn’t what the person wants to hear.
Consider the book of Ephesians. When Paul founded the Ephesian church, the city of Ephesus was a major occult city. The worship of the Greek goddess Artemis was the city’s main attraction, but many other types of occult practices thrived there as well. It was a very dark place for followers of the Lord. It was extremely important that the Ephesian believers maintained unity among themselves so they wouldn’t struggle alone in their new faith. Paul encouraged them to remain unified in his letters to them.

Therefore, I the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:1-3, NASB).

The New American Standard Bible translates the word “parakaleo” as “implore.” When Paul says he “implores them to walk in a manner worthy,” he’s actually saying that he encourages them to walk that way. The Ephesian believers were allowing disunity to creep into their fellowship of believers, and Paul is telling them what they need to hear in order to change their behavior.
I’ve seen lots of comments and questions from PI girls about friends who used to follow God but are now following Him less or making ungodly choices. When you confront a friend about this to urge them to get back in line with God’s will, you are encouraging them. Encouraging means telling people what they need to hear in order to bring about a change in action, feeling or belief, but when we encourage others, we should always do it with love, grace and wisdom. Sometimes encouragement is best to do in private, especially if the issue is a sensitive one. Remember: Your encouragement makes a difference!
Have you ever had to encourage someone to change a harmful behavior?

Therefore encourage one another and build up one another, just as you also are doing (1 Thessalonians 5:11)

- Project Inspired

I knew this, but I was so caught on the idea of encouragement, thinking that it must be the solution to my problem, that I distorted it into being the things I wanted to hear. And I think, though I may be wrong, you also knew this and distorted with your desire to make me start obeying you.

My favorite part of this is “When the Bible talks about encouragement, it usually means that one is calling someone to their side in order to teach, comfort, strengthen or push them to act in a certain way.”

So I was right. Encouragement is what I need, but we both need to fully understand it. It's not telling someone what they want to hear, but showing them what they need. I feel like so many people forget about the teaching part.

I started reading this article in a very bitter state of mind, but it mellowed out as I read.

So I've gotten passed my anger and mostly passed my hurt. And I'm sorry. I haven't been honest with you. Our relationship is not doing okay at all because of how angry I've been. I was angry at you and angry at myself. I was angry that you stopped trying to encourage me and it really hurt me tonight when you confirmed it, but please, don't give up. Let's not give up on this. There is a solution, but we haven't come to it yet.

I am an awful daughter, but please don't give up on me. I think we're misunderstanding things. I think we don't know each other nearly as well as we should.

So let's communicate and help each other.

The date is November 3^rd, 2017.

The day before my first competition. The day you talked to your co-worker about them giving me a ride.

The day you yelled at Michelle about the dishes and then apologized with chocolate.

I read this again and cried because every word still applies.

-

After my dad read it, we talked about how we failed at talking to each other and how we could get better, we talked about what it meant to encourage not just me but both of us, we talked about love languages, we talked about how to better express ourselves, and many things I talked about in the letter. One thing he mentioned was how much it hurt him when I talked bad about myself. He told that I'm not filthy, that I'm wonderful and beautiful and he loves me. 

I  think I worried over nothing about showing him the letter, because the truth is, this helped things between us. There was nothing to be afraid of. He loves me and he wants to know when something is bothering me.

Set Fire

Written September 4th, 2017

Word count: 581

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

By: Unlucky Little Lady (Little Autumn) on Blogger/Lady Idazle on Miraculous Amino 

After living a life in ice, a life of cold glares and hollow walls, Adrien set his world on fire. He watched the ice turn to water and evaporate around him and he smiled. It was over and he was glad to boil everything down to the truth. And it hurt. It burned his skin and melted his bones, but he was glad to finally know what was real and what wasn't.

Nino wasn't real. His words meant nothing in end. Adrien let the chaos take over his mind and his friend, his supposed best friend, ran away when things got too heated. He didn't want to be caught in the midst of the fire, so he left. Alya was fiery and fierce, but it was too much for her. She wanted warmth, but Adrien scorched her. She couldn't take it either, so she made her exit with Nino.

That was really the end of it. With those two gone, everyone deemed him too much to bear. So one at a time, then all at once, they left him. It hurt, but nothing was going to turn him cold again. He wouldn't allow that, so with every loss and every tear, he let the fire grow until no one wanted to be anywhere near.

That was fine, he told himself. If they so wished, they could distance themselves all they wanted, but they would still feel the warmth of what he had become. He would burn a brilliant light and no one would be able to ignore him. They could hate him and shield their eyes, but he was done with being pushed around.

His father was the first to feel the fire. The strings he used to control him were snapping and when he went to tie them back, Adrien released his rage and turned Gabriel to ash. He was done. He wasn't a push over, he wasn't to be taken for granted, he wasn't that timid and shy child anymore.

Plagg tried to talk sense into him, but Adrien wasn't hearing it. No one was going to tell him what to do anymore. So he burned him, too. If it's what it took to find the ones willing to stay, to find what was permanent in his life, he would burn everything to the ground.

Everything. Sizzling and crackling and breaking down to nothing. That was the truth of the matter. No one wanted him. Nothing would stay forever, and he was fine with that. He would be alone and have nothing to quell his flames. So be it. It was fine. Everything was fine. . .

“It's fine.”

“Don't lie to me.” she replied, holding him tight.

“If I don't lie.” he said, “I'll go down, too.”

“But if you keep lying, it'll only be worse in the end.”

“Then promise me something.” he pulled back and held her cheeks. So sweet and rosy.

“Anything.”

“When that time comes,” his thumb gently caressed her cheek, “Run as far away from me as possible.”

Her eyes broke, “I can't do that, Chat. Adrien. You know I can't.”

“My Lady.” he begged and kissed her nose, “Princess, please.

“No,” she buried her face in his chest, “I will never leave you.”

He set fire to the world around him, but he'd never let a flame touch her. Everything could burn to a crisp and die at his hands. Everything but her.

Commissions

November 13th, 2017
4:13 PM

Recently, I've been in need of some money. Between paying my parents back for the laptop they bought me last year, trying to get enough to buy a new phone, and earning spending money for a cruise my grandma invited me on, the amount needed is well over $100 dollars. I'm fifteen years old without even a permit, so I have no job nor many opportunities to gain money. Through the help of a close friend and some jobs my parents gave me, I've managed to gain a lot of what I need.

A bit more is needed and another close friend suggested that I set up a PayPal account take commissions and earn the rest of what I need that way, which both me and my family agree is a wonderful idea. On Miraculous Amino I've definitely gotten popular enough for that, but I figured if I really want to earn money that way, it'd be best to expand my writing to more than one site.

I'm gonna start posting my work other places and get my name out there in other parts of the Miraculous Ladybug fandom for a higher chance of commissions. And that includes here. I'll also be posting some one-shots and drabbles here for starters, maybe even some pieces with my own characters.

The Filth

I'm not the most motivated person. I've been this way most my life and because of it I've been called lazy, which isn't exactly wrong. So I'm kinda lazy. You can imagine this mostly applies to cleaning, school, anything I don't particularly enjoy.

Like when I'm drinking water in my room. Instead of getting up and throwing the water bottle away in the kitchen (I don't have a trash can in my room) I simply throw it on the floor and I've accepted this way of living. I've acceptable that pile of water bottles and crumpled pieces of paper five feet away from my bed. Everything builds up. The dirty clothes, the trash, the shoes that I always lose because I just throw them to the side when I get home. I'm a little filthy and I usually have no motivation to fix that. Usually.

There eventually comes a time when the water bottles become too much. The dirty clothes becoming a carpet on the floor is a little suffocating and I have nothing to wear. The random junk I have no need for and old notes I took from church are an eyesore, because now I can actually pinpoint what each pile of garbage is, but then there are the pads and tampons literally everywhere. How they wind up in every corner and crevice of the room, I have no idea.

I look at it and think, “This is fine.” but deep down, I know it's driving me a little mad. Then comes the point where I just have to clean, but it's not like I huff and get to work. It happens progressively, as if my mind is trying with all it's might to get me to do something about the mess and it can finally nudge me forward. It comes with the slow realization that the reason I migrated towards my bed to write is less about comfort and more to do with the fact that my desk is too messy to function. It's less my place to write and more my cat's place to puke when she eats too much. It happens when I begin to realize that the moment I get out of bed, my feet are coated in dirt and I have to constantly wipe them on random pieces of clothing on the floor throughout the day. I get that small nudge when I start to trip over clothes and the mess that is my room starts to come into the clean path from my bed to the door. I get a little bit of motivation when the filth is too much for even me.

Here's where my brain likes to trick me into to cleaning my room. I start with one thing. I think about how great it was when I still used to my desk to write and I think, “I should probably clean it up, it won't take too long.” Then I clean around my chair and under the desk, I pick up the clothes, but I have no place to put them. They're dirty, I can't put them in the basket with my clean clothes.

Side note, I have three baskets for this purpose, but the two other ones are already filled.

I need to clean them so I can put them somewhere, but my parents have gone to bed and the washing machine is right by their door. I decided to on putting them in garbage bags and washing them in the morning. I clean around the desk, but before I know it, I picked up . . . all? . . . the clothes?? Somehow I made it all the way over to the other side of the room and now my dirty clothes are together and ready to be washed??? How did this happen????

Then I suddenly have another bag I'm putting my trash into and the water bottles have been thrown away. My room is looking like a room and I can't stop there. The trash has been thrown away, the clothes off the floor, the feminine products are in unused makeup bags, and my sister is claiming things I don't want and I'm sweeping the remaining things into a pile in the middle of the room and I'm sorting things. I managed to clean off the bookshelf of my older sister's old things and my books have a place to go.

That's how it works. I start with one thing and that puts me in a cleaning mood. I got the motivation not because my parents told me to, but because I chose to do it and I had my own purpose.

I'm now in a clean room that doesn't even look like mine, but I'm reminded of one of the reasons cleaning my room after it becomes that mess bothers me so much. I swept up the floor, moved things around, and the dust and dirt and cat hair becomes unsettled. It's all flying the in air and as I'm finishing up, I'm also sneezing and dying.

By the way, if you're curious, here's a picture of everything I'm allergic to:

(I thought I had avoided food allergies, but it caught me with citric acid.)

I attempt to take allergy medicine, but it's in that moment when my allergies are the worst that I can't find it and my sneezes and sniffles are only getting worse. It's not the “Oh, a little bit of saliva is on my hand, better wipe it off.” sneeze, it's the nasty one. Anyone with allergies knows what I'm talking about.

I'm sitting here in my sparkly clean room and I'm dying. I've learned something today about messy rooms and letting it all build up.

Cleaning it up causes death. Just don't worry about it. Be filthy. It's fine.

That Little Ache We All Know and Love

September 2nd, 2017
12:57 AM

You know that little ache? The one you get when you hear something that makes any semblance of a smile on your face drop. The one that makes your heart speed up just a bit before thumping a slow, painful beat. But it doesn't make you cry, as much as you want it to. It's just enough for you to notice and pretend it doesn't exist.

Yeah, that little ache. Don't I know it. More than ever in this moment.  

A while ago, I posted about my best friend I was beginning to like. Then I posted about how much I liked him and how much it killed me. Well, I'm past that stage. I'm full on crushing. It's the whole shebang, the relentless butterflies that I've accepted, my cheeks hurting from smiling too much (and I don't even have to be talking to him), the thinking about him all through the day and night. The fantasizing of cuddling and showering each other in kisses and simply being with him. I hate that part the most. 

It can be sweet and exciting, one of the best experiences of being a teenager, but liking somebody sucks. I would tell you, "Oh! but don't be afraid to like someone," but that would be hypocritical of me.

I talked to some friends about how I was feeling, about that ache and how he, none the wiser, was causing it. Being on the end of relationship advice, I realize that telling someone the person they like doesn't deserve them has absolutely no meaning.

What does that even mean? He's flawed, this I know, but what it mean to be undeserving somebody? I don't deserve the love of Christ. I don't deserve His forgiveness and protection. So does deserving something or someone really matter? But I'm not God. I'm flawed, too, so maybe I don't deserve him. Perhaps we're just a bunch of flawed people and the concept of deserving and entitlement is an illusion to make ourselves feel better.

In all honesty, what do any of us deserve? Certainly not another person, and it goes both ways. He doesn't deserve me and I don't deserve him, but that's not even what matters, because even if he did deserve me or I deserved him, we're not in a relationship and that's not going to change anytime soon. Probably not at all. 

They also told me that if he can't tell something is wrong, he's too self-involved to notice or care. They said that I should distance myself from him and have him figure out what's wrong. They asked if he ever even wonders about me. If he asks how I am and asks about MY love life. They were asking if he even cared about me, but here's the thing, he does. He cares about me a lot, there's no doubt about that, but there's no way to explain this to them. There's no reason either, they were only trying to help me. 

I know he cares because he doesn't let me forget. He always notices when something is wrong, he can tell when I'm upset when we're having a simple conversation. He knows when I'm tired, sad, mad, or excited in a single text. He knows me.

This isn't something I can simply explain to someone if they don't know our relationship, if they don't know just how close we are. You probably don't even understand unless you're in the same boat (my condolences if you are). If I did tell them, they'd ask me why he hasn't noticed how I'm feeling now. How I've been feeling.

The answer is simple, it isn't poetic in the slightest. It's actually kind of sad. Plain pitiful and appeases nobody.

If he's happy, I'm happy. That's the thing about the ache. Nobody sees it. It's small enough that it doesn't seep into my text messages, at least not yet. He wouldn't be able to notice because I only show him that I'm happy for him. He only sees my concern for him, he only sees that I want the best for him. There's no seeing past that because it isn't fake, I truly am. It always hurts a little, but I'm not going to complicate things with my feelings. He's always dealing with something with some girl, the ex he can't get over that crushes his heart every chance she gets, his need to be with someone. I don't want to stress him out further.

He's imperfect. So am I. There's nobody to blame and I'm not even going to attempt to do so. It would feel good to be bitter towards myself for developing these burdensome emotions. It would feel good to be mad at him for not knowing how I feel or not feeling the same way, but that's what I like to call selfish. There's nothing wrong with liking or not liking someone, there's nothing with not knowing if somebody likes you if they've never told you. There's nothing with that little ache. There's nothing wrong with feeling. It just depends on how you handle it.

I think I'm handling it okay. I'm not just thinking about myself and what I want, and I know he's not either. He's not self-involved, he just knows that I don't like it when he holds back and that I want to be here for him in every part of his life. That's all I care about. I've said it before, I'll say it again.

Feelings aside, he's my best friend. The little ache will weigh on my chest at times, but I'll be okay.

 
I don't mean to be that person, that blogger. The one that only ever writes about their crush or significant other, but I can't be the best blogger and it seems I only ever write on here when I'm feeling particularly emotional. And what can I say? I love boy talk, but you don't know that.

Those Moments

It's in moments like these when having a crush isn't so bad. When there are those instances you have where you both know you care about each other. Just those times when you can freely talk to each other without the worry of crossing lines or coming on too strong for a friendship.

It's the moments where you openly tell each other those three words that are usually so overused. It's not overused in the moment though, because they aren't false. You aren't rushing anything, you're quietly muttering them to each other because you need each other to know. It's rarely said, it's quiet, but heavily felt.

You've been there for each other for so long, breakthroughs have been made, milestones passed, and you're appreciating the day when they came into your life. That moment when you had that connection and you took that step on the path to them becoming one of the most important people to you. And you just sit there on your bed, smiling at the text message, because thank you God. Thank you for putting this person in my life.

The developing of feelings sometimes take a toll on you and you struggle with holding yourself back, but that's not what matters. What matters is that the two of you care about each other and the friendship you have is priceless. No fears are able to creep in, because it's solid.

Yeah, you like them. You sometimes imagine cuddling with them and holding their hand, but it's those moments that get you. Those precious moments, the ones you pick from your memories and hold so close that it sinks into your chest and takes a place in your heart.

It's those moments when you think to yourself, “I love this person.”

Maybe not romantically, not just yet. But those that unconditional love you hold for them, you can't put it into words. You try and try to explain it to them, but the only things you can say are “I'm so glad you're in my life.” and “You mean so much to me.”

It's not enough, but you can't say anymore than that. There's no way to truly express it, but it's okay because you both understand. You both know how the other feels, the struggle to get each other to understand is mutual.

Then he says that he loves you. It makes you smile, and you're just shaking your head with that smile, thinking, “I know that, dork.”

To some it might be a painful reminder of that unrequited crush, but you know those moments. Those moments where nothing matters and you just know that you care about each other in some crazy form neither of you can comprehend.

Yeah. I love those moments.

Catching Feelings

March 30th, 2017

Wanna know what sucks? Wanna know what absolutely sucks? Not being able to express yourself to someone in the way you want to. Not being able to say "I miss you" or "I love you" to someone for a number of reasons that make it impossible to. All tiny, insignificant reasons, but reasons nonetheless. Sure, I can say them occasionally when the moment is right, but I hate not being able to say them out of the blue without seeming like I have a huge crush on this person (which I do, but he doesn't need to know that).

I hate not being able to text him anytime I want without being afraid that I'm bothering him or he's busy or I'm going a bit overboard with texting someone who is just a friend. He's my best friend, but that's besides the point. The point is that I really want to somehow express that I care about him and miss him, but he's at school and I feel like a moron and I don't want him thinking that I'm this boy crazy girl who goes crushing on people left and right. I doubt he thinks that, but I am excellent at worrying over the silliest of things.

I know just yesterday I was talking about how I am perfectly content with being single and I'm not focusing on guys right now, and it's true. None of that was a lie. I'm not going to distract myself with wanting a boyfriend because I know that I am not ready for that. I don't need a guy in my life when I have so many more important things to worry about. Yes, I like this person, but that changes nothing in the long run.

What I'm getting at is I like this guy, but I can't do anything to express myself. I wouldn't care if he knew that I like him, but I don't want him thinking that I was to pursue a relationship. I don't want him to think that everything I say to him as a friend is in someway romantic. I love him, but not because I have a crush on him. I've only just recently admit to myself that there are some feelings there. I love him platonically and I don't want him to mix those three words up with me being all mushy and romantic. Before all else, he is my best friend and nothing will change that.

It still sucks to not be able to express how I'm feeling though. It's bottling up and it's annoying. I hate having a crush because I feel like such an idiot. I don't like the way my heart speeds up when I hear his text tone, I don't like the way my skin heats up whenever he says something sweet, and I don't like feeling so restricted. I hate feeling so cautious about what I say. I just want to be completely open with him about everything, but again, there's that fear.

I spoke about my fear briefly, but let me go into a bit more detail.

I do not want to be in a relationship. I am not stable enough emotionally nor am I mature enough spiritually. I tried this whole dating thing a couple years ago and it's distracting. It's take up so much time, and though that doesn't bother me, I wouldn't mind spending the majority of my time with him, I know it isn't wise. I need to spend my time getting my education and thinking about my future, I need to work on my future career and preparing for college in just a couple of years. Above all else, I need to spend my time with God, worshipping him and praying about how I can serve Him better.

I am a crappy daughter of God. I suck at being obedient and steadfast in my relationship with Him. Seriously, I still wonder why He loves me so much when all I do is screw up and make excuses. He still does though. He values and loves me, He never overlooks me like I feel so many people do. He takes care of me and comforts me when I'm an emotional wreck. Whenever I feel alone, I call out to Him and He's there. He's always there, never leaving me to deal with life on my own.

After all I've done, all the horrible decisions I've made and the amount of times I have lied to him about putting Him first, He still loves me and never fails to remind me. It is so overwhelmingly amazing how wonderful and gentle He is Which is why I am not going to allow myself to get caught up in a relationship with any guy, no matter how much I like him.

God needs to come first in my life. If I can't maintain a relationship with Jesus, the who loves me more than I can comprehend and will never fail me, how am I suppose to keep a relationship with someone who can and most likely will fail me at some point or another?

The time will come when I am ready and I have faith that God will bring a wonderful man into my life as He has promised, but I'm still human. I'm still going to crush on my best friend and feel dumb while doing so. It's okay to like him, I'm not saying it's wrong. I'm just not going to act on these feelings and let history repeat itself, but I fear that if he knew how much I like him, he would think otherwise. And though I am determined to stay true to my word, I'm still afraid that I'll let my emotions get the best of me. I don't want that. It would more than likely damage my relationship with my best friend and I don't want to destroy any more good things in my life than I have already.

This is not where I intended to take this blog, but I'm emotional and frustrated, dang it. I needed a reminder that I can deal with this annoyingly persistent crush and focus on God.

It sucks that I can't be as honest with my best friend about this and it makes me a little lonely, but I'll be fine. I'm not the kind of person to get all bent out of shape about a guy, at least not anymore. He's my best friend and no feelings are going to get in the way of that.

Let me say it again for that little part of brain that isn't listening.

He's my best friend and no feelings are going to get in the way of that.

Get out of my way feelings, shoo!

I am convinced that this is a disease. A sickness. I've caught feelings. *shudders*

Please, for anyone person actually reading this, pray for me. Pray that I don't do anything stupid, cause I'm good at that. I am amazing at doing stupid things. I'll be praying my most consistent prayer:

Jesus, help me not be a moron about this.

Little Autumn's Little Crushes

March 28th, 2017

I have had many crushes over the years. My first crush was pretty bad. Not that I had it bad (I did, but that's not the point), I mean my nine year old self had horrible taste in guys. He had the long bangs that I found so attractive for some reason beyond me. He was older than me by a couple of year, but no one's attracted to a nine year old. He spoke low and deep, and now that I think about it, he probably sounded dumb in the way he was trying to seem masculine in front of the other girls.

I was crazy about him and I have no idea why. I wrote his name on my skin all the time with a sharpie, I would try to wear cute clothes whenever I went to church in hopes he would be there (he never was), and I said the stupidest things in front of him the few days that I knew him.

Let me tell you an embarrassing story. So we were in the other building of the church, sitting at a table together; the only reason we were at the same table was because I hung around my sister who hung around our cousin who my crush also hung around. Yeah . . . Anyway, they were just talking and I was admiring his face that I now know was not really all that pretty. My sister and cousin were talking about how this one other girl had a crush on him and he had noticed it. Me, being the moron that I was said exactly this:

"A lot of girls have a crush on you. And one of them likes your hair." Then I proceeded to sink down in my chair with what I assume was a love struck smile.

Why, younger Autumn? Why on Earth would you say that? Did you think that was subtle or something? Did you think you were wooing him with your flirting skills?

Ugh, I cringe every time I think about. It gets worse though, believe me. Another time when he was actually at church, we were in the Nursery with some other people and I showed him a necklace I had recently gotten that had an N on it. I told him the N stood for his name. I told him that! I'm beginning to wonder if I just didn't care about being subtle at all. Later that day I accidentally threw a heavy, plastic, egg shaped toy at his crotch.

Yup, I was wooing him alright.

I still wonder why I ever had a crush on him.

My second crush was this really bratty boy who cried a lot. We were considered cousins, but it was distant so I didn't consider us actually related. How that one ended was when he stopped hanging out with me after he read my diary about my crush on him. It was awful. And I was so dramatic about it, too. I had this whole speech planned out to apologize for having feelings I couldn't control blah blah blah.

After that I just had bad crushes on boys I met at summer camp. My taste in guys got better as I went on, but then I made the mistake of secret dating one when I was twelve, thinking he was the one and we just had to persevere. I had this whole fantasy of growing up and getting married and having a big family with him.

Problem #1: WE WERE 12

Now, I'm not saying you can't date someone at a young age and end up having a future with them. One of my dance teachers got married to a boy she's liked and been with since she was 13. It just didn't work for me because I was a moron who thought I had everything figured out and I knew what love was.

Problem #2: He didn't want a big family. He wanted two, maybe three kids. I want five. I want lots of kids.

Problem #3: It felt wrong to be with someone without my parents knowledge and approval.

I'm a daddy's girl. Always have and always will be. I want a man who can get to know him and get my dad's blessing. When my future husband wants to propose to me, I want him to ask my dad. I want his approval, and it felt wrong to be going against what my dad has always told me. I didn't like disobeying him and my little secret boyfriend would always throw a fit whenever I suggested we wait (I ended up breaking the boy's heart, so he says, so it doesn't matter now. I realize that he was and still is really annoying and has little respect for girls.)

Problem #3: He didn't and still doesn't like to read.

THAT is a deal breaker for me. I'm a writer. I'm going to be a published author. That's going to be my career and life. He complained every time I sent him something to read. I'm not going to put up with that when it's something I'm passionate about. My sister, who is engaged to her boyfriend she's been with for three years, said that when you love someone, you love what they love. He didn't love what I loved and I didn't love what he loved. We were fooling ourselves with the idea of love.

Problem #4: We just didn't match very well

He got emotional and I got fed up. He complained and I complained about his complaining. I liked being alone when he wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be alone when I wanted to be with him. It just didn't work. It probably would've if we would have just waited until we were more mature and ready to maintain a healthy relationship. We were idiots and that not only ruined our chances of being together in the future, but it hinders any friendship we could've had.

My taste in guys has gotten better since I've matured and gotten to know and discover myself. I know what I want now and what kind of person I want to spend my life with. I don't really worry about boys much anymore because God told me through someone else not to; He's preparing someone for me and I have to be patient.

So that was the end of all my left and right, back and forth crushing. It doesn't work and I'm not going to convince myself that I know better than God (I most definitely do not. It is only because of Him that I'm okay now).

So there's someone out there for me. I don't need to search him out, I'm not desperate to find him, because God will bring us together when the time is right. I trust Him, so I'm waiting. Patiently and happily. I'm content with my single status.

Those Moments of Awe and Joy

March 23, 2017

Does someone ever do something for you and it just blows you away? Like something for your birthday or a random little occasion in which a friend does something special. Someone gets you a present or gesture and you tear up and don't know what yo say. You're speechless and so touched, you just don't know what to do except smile and thank them over and over. Do you know what kind of moments I'm talking about?

Usually those kinds of moments for me are about small and oftentimes silly things. I always get super happy whenever my Sunday school teacher gives me the left over donuts or when my family gives me the last cookie (for some reason it always it always revolves around food. . .).
Then there are moments that are more serious and significant, not that donuts are any less significant. Those kinds of moments revolve more around words for me. I am not one to swoon over pretty words coming from anybody. It's hard for to open up and get close to people, but whenever I do show my whole self to someone and they reciprocate, well, it means a lot to me.

The first time I said "I love you" to my best friend, I was kinda nervous she would just smile and nod, humoring me and my stupidity. I don't take those three words lightly, because they are more than just feelings to me. They are more than just the thing to say when you know someone for long enough. So whenever I say it to anybody, I'm serious and most likely terrified the first time I do. Yes, she said the back and I had a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

It's those little things that get to me, it's the tiniest things that give me those moments of awe and joy. I more often than not get flustered and struggle to say something, because I take everything so seriously and deeply.

Well, I had one of those moments today. A person very dear to me wrote a me the loveliest, sweetest poem for my 200th day on Miraculous Amino (it's like a birthday every 100 days. I find it adorable because people will message you and comment on your profile congratulating you and wishing you a happy whatever hundred day it is for you).

I could go on and on about this, but how about I just show you the poem?


Autumn

The wind rustles a few stray leaves
Leaves with colours, warm, and a promise, cold
They flutter about in the gentle breeze
Spiraling free, so daring and bold

The one raking them up sighs
As they are scattered once more
Before getting right back to work
Gathering leaves off the floor

On, the breeze whistles
Among the long scarves and coats
Of people battling the chill
As they match the whistling wind's notes

It's that time of year
When animals store up supplies
Preparing for winter
Before it arrives

Although the days shorten
And bright sunny days are few
It is by no means a season
In which to start feeling blue

The streets are laced with vibrant colours
Yellows, oranges, and res
Of the tree's last, bright goodbyes
Before they settle into their beds

Fall is my person favourite
Of all four seasons
It's astonishingly beautiful
To name just one of the reasons

The sheer beauty that comes with it
And the promise of change and things new
Inspires great wonders within me
As I observe it's ever-changing hues

Like the free, spiraling leaves
You taught me I can go in any direction I choose
That's always okay to be different
And to have unique, even unusual views

Like the poor soul sweeping up leaves
You taught me how frustrating life can be at times
But with perseverance and a good-natured spirit
The rewards will be sublime!

Like the happy, mischievous breeze
Ruffling children's hair as it gently blows by
You've taught me how to find humor
Smile and laugh, and not always sigh

Like the critters storing away for the winter
You've shown me how important it is to plan
How procrastination, although seemingly friendly
Can cause the downfall of even the strongest man

Like the stunning beauty of fall
You've inspired me more than you'll ever know
Not only as a writer, but as a person
You've helped and guided me to grow

- Retrofox


For my 200th day, I have been set to smile all day. That's all I can really say in my still giddy state of happiness. These words are overwhelming. Thank you, Retro.

Maybe Someday . . .

March 13th, 2017

I have this really bad habit of piling a bunch of things on top of myself and wondering why I'm so stressed. Some things I don't even have to do, like certain projects I have for fanfiction and potential books I plan to write in the future. Those things I don't necessarily have to do, but because they are important to me and I treat them like they're going to save someone's life, I take it upon myself and add it to that long list.

Now, the most stressful things are the one I do have to do. Those little things called responsibilities and the other crap I agree to do. My homeschool group put together a team of people to create a yearbook. It was optional, my mom didn't make me do it, but because I wanted to go to this fancy school of arts at the time, I figured it would give me a better chance of getting in and it could be fun. Well, I changed my mind about going to that school because it decided that it wouldn't benefit me as the other things in my life would (like dance and other things that would come up in the future that I would not be able to do if I went to a school that let their students out at 5pm). And, unsurprisingly, working on the yearbook is not fun. I repeat: It. Is. Not. Fun.

I'm only working on two pages, the page about co-op and about the yearbook committee. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if the lady who put the team together would help us and explain what exactly she wants in it. I'm a clueless little homeschooler! I don't do things like that, I don't have experience. What is she trying to get out of us when she should know that the majority of the people on the team don't have clue on how to properly do it. I could figure it out, yes, but I do very poorly when I'm left to my own devices on something I have never done before.

So I have to do that mixed with the things I feel would grow me as a writer, and recently the youth group worship team leader reached out to me and asked if I was interested in becoming a student leader. Now this I am ecstatic about! To do something for God that would not only benefit myself, but the church and people God brings into the church. I love that I have been given the opportunity, but just like with the year book committee, I don't know what to do.

Nicole, the worship team leader, has given me many options and has pretty much given me free reign on what I want to do or learn. I want to write, of course, so I told her that. She asked if I could write songs. I said I haven't in a long time, but I could try. If God wants me to be her lyricist, then I can do it. But that's just about all there is to say. She invited me to sit in on a worship rehearsal, I went, and I didn't get much out of it aside from the confirmation that I am not needed to learn an instrument (and the one instrument I want to learn –piano– is the one the two other girls Nicole asked to step up are very familiar with). I haven't gotten any word from Nicole, so more than it being another thing that I piled on top of myself, I'm nervous.

I really want to do something and lead someone in some way, but as of right now, I don't know how. That's something for me to pray on though. I shouldn't worry about it, but hey, I'm human. Humans are really good at worrying about everything despite the fact that worrying does absolutely nothing to help.

I should probably text Nicole and ask if she wants to meet up and talk about what I could do, or I could ask if I could come on practice Tuesday so we can talk, but oh! That's right! For the next month I'm going to busy doing this other thing I agreed to.

This one doesn't upset me, but it's a lot like dance. My older sister asked me if I wanted to join this temporary group with her and one other person to learn karate for this teen talent competition. We're going to learning chunks of martial arts and sloooowly do them to a version of Amazing Grace. It's fun, I'm learning how to properly punch people, and it's a great way to put myself out there and really do something for once. I really like it and I'm so excited I'm getting to do this. I also get to call our teacher "Sensei" (to which he is unamused, but I finally get to use it without being called a weeb, dang it!).

It's a lot like dance, meaning I have to practice relentlessly along with relentless practice of actual dance. And dance has gotten a lot harder since I graduated into the Freshmen class.

So I go over to spend three days with my grandparents every week in order to make practice while worrying about all this other stuff I have to do or I feel I have to do. Like co-leading a Miraculous Ladybug blog on Miraculous Amino and reading books for school and catching up in math and just sitting and wondering, "Why am I doing all of this?"

I was going to end this post right there, but I came to a conclusion.

I have spent my whole life subconsciously thinking that I am only worth something if I do something. If I do something that someone else can confirm is actually significant to more than just me, then I've done something to give me worth. I hate doing so many things and stressing myself out, but if I don't, I feel like I am a waste of space. Like I'm just stealing the air from other people when I could be something more than a lump of tissue and blood and organs covered in skin. Like simply existing and being who I am isn't enough to be important to somebody ― anybody.

That's pretty harsh thinking, but I think It's true that I feel that way in some corner of my brain where everything is dark and dreary. I feel like some lazy glutton if I don't do anything. I feel like I'm doing something wrong when I'm spending time for my own relaxation a lot of times, so it makes sense that in order to feel important I take the responsibility of doing a bunch of crap even they don't have some long term impact or I don't really care about them. A lot of times I still do nothing, I still procrastinate, but maybe it's just the thought of I have a bunch of things to do that I will eventually do that comforts me.

None of this is for certain, I'm psychoanalyzing myself. But it's plausible. It makes a lot of sense, but if all that is true that I am taking the responsibility of doing all of these different things, how can I do them without their sole purpose of being to make me feel like I have worth? How can I not agree to do a bunch of things that stress me out and still like I have some significance?

I might have an answer someday, but I'll work on that when I finish all that I have to do right now.

Forgotten, Remembered, and Ready

March 13th, 2017

I remember when I first made this blog. It was around 2 am on my older sister's birthday, January 5th, and my dad had accidentally left the wifi plugged in. So of course I was up late that night to get my share of nice, quiet internet time. I can't remember how late I was up or how much sleep I got, but I know that I was happy and giddy the whole time. Why? I made a blog, of course! I love the idea of journaling my life and keeping a record of all the little things that happen. I've always loved journaling and blogging (I kept a couple dozen diaries full of gobbledygook throughout the years when I was little). It's always been a part of my life in some form or fashion, so of course I was happy when I finally made myself a real blog for me to not give up on.

I talked about in my first post how I had made many accounts on several different social media to fulfill my desire to blog, but it never really worked. I still can't tell whether it was because they were very unofficial blogs or I just didn't have the motivation to continue them. Anyway, I was dead set on keeping this one alive. I was determined to make it work for once and keep writing for as long as I could. I had goal of at least posting once everyday, but as you can tell, it didn't really turn out that way if the two months between this post and my last one is anything to go by.

Yes, I admit it. I just about gave up on blogging. Come at me, imaginary readers! Sue me, lovers of my blog whom I pretend exist! Tie me to a post and set me on fire, for I had forgotten about Unlucky Little Lady (for the most part).

So yeah, I was determined to keep it going, but as time drew on, it dwindled.

Wow, now that I read back on this, it looks like one of those dramatic posts you see on social media all the time. You know, the ones where people are crying about how they can't do it anymore and they're leaving that site forever. They just lost the motivation and there's so much going on in their life. [Insert long list of people they're thankful for here].

I'm not that kind of person. If I were to stop, well, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd just cease activity until I have a mental breakdown and start ranting about my problems then never post again. Is that shallow?

I am going to continue writing here. Hopefully I'll write on better topics than I did two months ago. I'm not going to read back on all my past blog posts in fear of deleting them because of how stupid I sound.

I do have a couple of topics I want to write on, but I'm going to save that for their own post. Like, I finally talked to my dad about how his words were affecting me and how my family life is right now, also some cool opportunities I've had in the last two months. I'm not going to go into detail now. This post is mainly to tell all of my imaginary readers that I'm still alive and ready to start blogging again.

I forgot how relaxing it is to blog. Dang, I could've really saved myself from all the stress I was going through a few weeks ago.

Thanks for reading any weird person who actually took the time to. It means a lot and I'd love to hear of some topics you'd like me write about or things in my life that you're curious about (I'm probably going to write down a bunch of random questions for myself and say they were asked by one of my imaginary readers).

- Autumn

Spicy Pancakes & Oatmeal Cookies

January 14th, 2017

I suck at cooking. I cannot cook for the life of me. I once tried to make fried rice. Yeah. . . . I ended up putting in Worcestershire sauce instead of soy sauce, and I cooked it too long so it was gummy. I can follow a recipe kinda okay, but never leave me to my own devices. I can, however, bake and cook breakfast foods. That I can do.

So yesterday I was getting hungry a little after lunch time (I never really eat lunch). I decided that I was going to make pancakes. I actually don't mind making pancakes. They're yummy and filling and has just the right amount of sweetness on their own. Usually I make homemade pancakes, but my mom bought pancakes where all you really had to do was put the right amount of the flour (that was mixed with all the other ingredients) in the bowl and add water. Easy! I wasn't too fond of that, but I thought it would be quicker than if I made it homemade.

I was about to open the box when my mom came in and said that there was already one open. She searched through the cabinets and found a ziplock bag with the same flour. There wasn't quite enough of that, so I ended up opening the other box anyway. I noticed that the flour from the bag and the four from the box were slightly different shades, but I just figured that the one that was opened first wasn't whole wheat while the new one was. But then after I mixed it all up, it looked and smelled odd. There were specks that looked like seasonings or something else and it smelled like something that I couldn't quite place. I thought that something may have gotten into it, but there were no holes in the bag or the box.

At my mom's urging, I made them anyway (I honestly just wanted to chunk it and make my homemade pancakes). I made one and tasted it. It was weird. It was a pancake for sure, but there was something about it that kind of made me want to spit it out. The aftertaste tasted like the batter looked: seasoned.

I did not want it. It tasted gross. My mom said that she would eat them, so I stuffed 14-16 pancakes into three and gave them to my mom (she ate half of one before she threw it away). So while I was searching for the self-rising flour to make my good pancakes, I found this package of darker flour that looked strangely like the one I had opened from the new box. I took it out of the cabinet and held it up to my mom and said, "Isn't this that pancake mix?" She had this look on her face that very clearly said "Oh."

I was freaking out over what I had actually put in the pancakes when my older sister realized. Turns out, her and my younger sister had made chicken nuggets some time ago and that was the heavily seasoned flour they used to bread it. That's what we put in the pancakes. Freaking seasoned, spicy flour. It was making a lot more sense (my mom was throwing away the pancakes while we were laughing about it. Not because she knew what was in it, but because it tasted bad).

I made my homemade pancakes and they were good. They were originally all for me, but I gave my younger sister two. Not that I really wanted to. I was perfectly content with eating a plate of six thick, buttery pancakes lightly glazed with honey.

I can't cook, but I like me some breakfast food.

 Later that day I made oatmeal cookies for just me and my older sister while the rest of my family was out. I can't remember how many I ate, but it was good. My older sister made chicken and paremesan spaghetti. I felt bloated and stuffed by the end of the day, but do I regret it? Nope! I finally got some writing done while I snuggled under my penguin blanket, so yesterday was pretty good.