abigailnicole: (death)


OH HI, TIME TO BREATHE, I HAVE SOME

hey ladies and gentlemen, it's 82 degrees in New Orleans (thank goodness, I do not want it to be 60 EVER AGAIN. this will not happen). My wife is coming to visit me this weekend :D! and Dustin, and Welleford.

now that I finished PHYSICS (for this week) TEST and HOMEWORK and I just have a lot of orgo to do (a chapter or so). but I have a new mug! It's ugly but it was 99cents so I bought it because hot water is free and it was less expensive than regular tea. you have no idea how excited I get about being able to drink hot tea in the mornings, because prior to this I had no cups. Mine went.....somewhere. So now I have one again and NO ONE WILL TAKE IT FROM ME EVER AGAIN. It's large so I leave the teabag in there to swim around. Yesterday my teabag disintegrated so I was drinking chai leaves. Perhaps I should get some sort of infuser ball, which would roll around and clunk while I drank it.


I've been SO ANGRY the past three days. Angry at my teacher, angry at my roommates, angry at my lab partners. Today I was feeling better until I found out that Rocky Horror was tonight and not tomorrow night, so now I'm angry again. the hell. It's supposed to start at 12 halloween night, not the night before. that FRIDAY by the way, halloween night starts midnight friday night/saturday morning. I just can't stay happy. this week has just worn me out.
abigailnicole: (Default)


sunday I woke up and it was dumb outside: "dumb outside" is a term commonly used in our room to refer to weather that is gray, blustery, raining, storming at uneven intervals, and the sky is a strange shade of gray that lightens intermittently throughout the day but really is just shades of gray. since it was dumb outside, I went back to sleep. This kept happening until I accepted that the weather wasn't going to get better and instead just laid in bed, reading and drinking tea. this happened all week

also I had a bowl of paella in the fridge, which I was going to eat for lunch, which has mysteriously gone missing. there is not even a "I have eaten the paella / that was in the fridge / I know you were saving it for monday / but it was so spicy / and delicious"

monday was good, though, other than that. I got a package mum sent me, I'm making a sweater...I shouldn't be. Then today was awful because my roommate decided on her major, so now I'm the only one who doesn't know and I have, oh, six months? to figure it out. I got more upset over this than I should have and had a series of unfortunate events. It culminated in the infamous "SAY WHAT ONE MORE TIME" scene. I think there are worse ways to resolve life crises, but unfortunately it was more of a stopgap than a resolution. whatever. my problem.


I have an open draft in Gmail of a letter home I can't seem to finish. I can't find words recently.
abigailnicole: (Default)
this story is not about sororities or fraternities. this might be a wildly inappropriate title. 1132 words.

Greek Week


On the first day, Persephone entered the room. )
abigailnicole: (Default)
Time to update before I go check email, as usual.

Yesterday I went shopping. Actually, back up, first off Friday night there was a lock-in, and I slept on an inflatable which was comfortable but blew cold air on me all night. And we all sang Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls in the church van, which was nice, and Mollee and Nathan were there which was fun. Saturday I went to Richmond to their lame, uncrowded, yet still-endearing mall to buy a bag, which is yellow and polka-dotted. The bright colors cheer me up. And I got lotion from Bath and Body Works, and from Claire's, heavy earrings and a headband which hurts my mastoid process. So Claire's didn't work out too well for the whole beauty-without-pain thing.

and YESTERDAY night I went shopping with mom, and got some tank tops and slightly-red hair color and some more hair products. And before that I went to Captain D's (after my HUNGRY post) and ate two pieces of fish and four shrimp and french fries and cole slaw and hush puppies.

I got my transcript and registered for classes and, as usual, I have all A's. But my little brother thinks he got two C's and a D, which means that this weekend my dad will be yelling at my brother a lot and he'll get in big trouble and I'll get to hide in my room, fun.

My schedule for next year:

Semester 1:
1. AP English IV - Nantz
2. Creative Writing - Nantz
3. AP Chemistry - Herrell
4. AP Chemistry - Herrell
5. AP Calculus - Napier
6. AP Calculus - Napier
7. AP Spanish - Osborne

Semester 2:
1. AP English IV - Nantz
2. Creative Writing - Nantz
3. AP Chemistry - Herrell
4. Forensics - Herrell
5. AP Calculus - Napier
6. AP Spanish - Osborne
7. AP Spanish - Osborne

and I really am excited about Creative Writing. I don't know what I want to do with my life, end of story. Yummy.

My journal has turned into the horrifying: "Here's-what-I-did-today" kind of entries. But, no, really, I'm so hungry and I do wish I could really speak spanish.

paint me with butter and eat me with corn, I wrote a poem. I'll post it later. actually I'll probably make up piano music to go with it, just so I won't have to be embarrassed about writing a poem.

oh, and I LOVE Casino Royale and Atlas Shrugged. I'm giving up on Dante to read that, at least for the time being, though I'll be reading them both for a while.

and I made a new layout sunday morning for [livejournal.com profile] abigail_nicole. (that's me.)
abigailnicole: (Default)
rough draft of the story I wrote for beta, creative writing contest.
I didn't win.

the prompt was: "____ opened the package eagerly, wondering why anyone would will them a small, leather suitcase."

lucy in the sky with diamonds )

I would really like a camera again.

and Fall Out Boy's performance on AMA was terrible.
abigailnicole: (OMG)
Okay, so I want to say this before school starts and it gets killed out of me.

There's a lot more to writing short stories than gets taught in any writing class. They usually only teach you the technical aspects. Not even grammar, but some will. Elements of Style and all that jazz. Passive/active verbs gets close. But there are lots of things to consider. One of the things that you see a lot but never really get explained is a writer's style. Style is an all-encompassing word, dealing with a writer's voice--are they sarcastic, funny, boring, dry, amused, silly, etc.? Even the way you describe simple details will give you a sense of narrative voice "Marissa's hair was the color of her soles--dirty, with a few rocks in it here and there" or "Marissa's hair was brown" or "Marissa's hair was the color of the clay on the old country road leading down to her house, that deep Georgia red that brought her close to the earth" which is the GSA way to write it. No, seriously. Haha. okay.

long essay-tutorial thing on writing. )

It's only 10am, but I'm going to try to refrain from posting for the rest of the day. So...
LJ Friend of the Day: [livejournal.com profile] tipholic666, otherwise known as Max! (or Caitlin). This girl wrote me an entire notebook (the only person to do so) and I can only hope mine to her will be as good as hers to me. She's amazing, and will accept any gifts of Pocky you give her. If you want your daily dose of song-and-dance, head over to the orange-shoelace totin' [livejournal.com profile] tipholic666!
abigailnicole: (Default)
9.27pm sunday may 28th

ovarypainovarypainovarypainovarypainovarypain.

...
think that's pretty much it.
abigailnicole: (Default)
having a violently pink livejournal completely discourages me from ever posting anything. I went to type this and started shuddering.
So, what I started out to say!

Dairy Queen is a vile, disgusting place that puts slugs in their milkshakes and everytime I've eaten there recently I've gotten violently ill, so everybody go boycott Dairy Queen. I wish I could make myself throw up at this point.

Sonic is so much better.
abigailnicole: (Default)
So, yeah, I got a 32 on my ACT.
english - 35
math - 28
reading - 34
science - 29

+writing - 11 (out of 12)



...hurrah!
abigailnicole: (Default)
I feel like musing.
Things are getting hilariously complex.
I don't remember how to say everything I want to say. The days that pass so slowly seem a mere second when they have gone.
I'm leaving not soon enough. Jaime+me, kids.

OH MY FUCKING GOD A CENTIPEDE JUST DROPPED OUT OF THE SKYLIGHT ONTO MY ARM AND IT'S CRAWLING ON MY CARPET
I'm afraid to get out of this chair. Bugs are creepy. They should die.

Damn, I just lost my train of thought.

...

Am I slightly ADD?
My novel is insanely complicated.
I want to write notebooks and give them to people. Anyone want one?
Goochland. Me+Jaime are writing notebooks to her boyfriend. For no discernable reason. Hers are going to be emotional and mine are going to be random. Just because, you know, I love writing random notebooks containing my thoughts.

That centipede is still creeping me out. I'm afraid to sit here now. I am never going to get over it. What would YOU do if a GROSS WORM WITH A HUNDRED LITTLE CRAWLEY LEGS FELL OUT OF THE SKY AND LANDED ON YOUR ARM?!
ewwewwewwewwewwewwewwewwewwewwewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Hey Jupiter is the greatest song.
I want to go meet new random people that are deep and amusing and special and have fun with them. Run off and be kidnapped by my friends to meet new and interesting strangers.

I am not going to be able to concentrate on anything for the rest of the day. That bug is still here somewhere. It's killing me. Just by its existance and its random falling out of the sky and landing on my arm. This is going to creep me out all day! Fucking bug!

I showered today and shaved my legs. I'm so sick of being stuck in this house and not being able to get out. I WANT OUT. HELP ME. I'm to the point where if I have any more time to lay around and THINK ABOUT IT I'm going to start slitting my wrists because I can't therapy scream. And various other emo bullshit. La-la, la-la-la-la. crackbreak.

+screaming+ AND I GET TIRED GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS, I FIGURED YOU WERE ACTING OUT YOUR PART
which was last year's mission trip song: All Downhill From Here, Favor House Atlantic, and all of Blink-182 (Blink-182).

Faulkner is on Oprah's book list.

I want to stay up all night writing piano songs. I do. I want. I need. Memememememe. Piano songs. It all comes down to me eventually. Illuminated green letters spell eleven seventeen and it casts no enchantment over me. My violet-flowr lamp in the dark, Dashboard Confessional on repeat all night last night. Purple sheet and sweet tea, piano music in an empty room. A plastic bracelet fallen off after six months. Smiling, crying, manic, depressive. I am all these things.

I had to step on the chairs to get to my room. I'm afraid to open the door to my room because I might let that hideous crawley thing IN. And the door to my room is right next to this computer. Little hideous bug of death, you are not entering my purple haven.

Except nothing is my haven anymore, everything is my prison except my bed. I woke up at 3:32 and 4:49 am last night, lying restless. Tossing and turning. I can't sleep anymore. Ever. Except from six to eleven am. I want to get up in the middle of the night and go drive, drive around London going nowhere. Wendys. The park. Climbing fences and breaking into elementary school playgrounds to swing on the swings. I'm trapped here and I can't swing, I can't swing and I'm dying. I want to get up and go driving in the middle of the night. I want to go notebook shopping.

I need to get out of this chair, run down the stairs, and get sweet tea and come back. Except, um, there's a GIANT HUGE CRAWLEY CENTIPEDE somewhere in the vicinity of this desk and I'm going to have to jump out of this chair to the carpet beyond and run downstairs and run back up.

...and if it takes shit to make bliss then I feel pretty blissful...

Who wrote Personal Jesus? It wasn't Manson, was it? Because everyone in the world and their mom has redone it.

YAY I have tea. But I'm afraid to set it down. What if ANOTHER centipede falls out of the skylight INTO MY CUP?! It would ruin tea forever for me. I would die. Because I'm addicted to sweet tea. And, oddly enough, it's the paper with [livejournal.com profile] timexofurxlife's contact info on it. xgxextxixt? Haha. That's hilarious. Fxing hilarious, kids.

Jaime's posse is hilarious.

I sat around drawing eyefish last night. I don't even know why. I want to draw something and that's the only thing I can draw, I suppose. If I could drive, I would go get lots of sidewalk chalk and go decorate the sidewalks in the park. Damn I want a driver's liscense and a car. The best part about chalk drawings, on smooth surfaces anyway, is that you get to use your fingers to rub the chalk in, and you get chalk dust all over you. I have a hoodie somebody gave me that's a large, far too big for me, and it's gray and boring so it's my official painting-hoodie, I want to get paint splatters and chalk all over it and become a bohemian. I'm becoming a Goodwill bohemian with Jaime Thursday, if I can.

Mum wants to take me to a movie tomorrow. I don't know why.

I don't really like The Beekeeper. I'm too hardcore piano-girl fan to like Scarlet's Walk and The Beekeeper. Carbon, live, with her solo on the piano, is beautiful, and Toast is lovely. But I still like all her earlier stuff better.

I like Belle & Sebestian but not the lead singer. The music is great but his voice is annoying. Get it?

Too bad this is the longest most ADD post ever. I win at life. Everyone else forfeits and dies. I get three million points go me.

Except the first rule of the game Pointless is that you can't give yourself points. It's the only rule, really. And all point-related things must be trivial. But it's called Pointless, so that's sort of obvious. Ow. Leg cramp.


William H. Smith II Because I love you, and you love me...and nothing can make that lame. says:
it can't be THAT big so it should be easy enough to get around
William H. Smith II Because I love you, and you love me...and nothing can make that lame. says:
i don't think it would be aggressive enough to chase you down and try to kill you
abi says:
hey, I bet centipedes have centipede assassains. That way the rich centipedes can kill off other rich centipedes they don't like....
abi says:
maybe that was why it was crawling on the ceiling.
abi says:
It was a centipede assassain, and it was trying to kill another rich centipede in the war going on in my house.
William H. Smith II Because I love you, and you love me...and nothing can make that lame. says:
centipede assassins
William H. Smith II Because I love you, and you love me...and nothing can make that lame. says:
thats great
abi says:
I have a huge centipede population and I don't even know it! I'm going to be afraid to go to sleep tonight
William H. Smith II Because I love you, and you love me...and nothing can make that lame. says:
you need to hire a centipede assassin to kill the assassins in your house
abi says:
yeah, but what if the centipedes I hire it to assassinate pay it more money for it to kill me?
abi says:
then I'd be dead and the centipedes would have won...
abi says:
I should just get an exterminator
William H. Smith II Our one sweet night together. says:
that would work
William H. Smith II Our one sweet night together. says:
i don't think they could handle though
William H. Smith II Our one sweet night together. says:
*handle that
abi says:
True....these centipedes are clever.
abi says:
What eats centipedes?
William H. Smith II Our one sweet night together. says:
no idea
abi says:
I could hire a mad scientist to create a mad centipede-eating little fluffy bunny. I can't be scared of a fluffy bunny. And it will eat all the centipedes that are trying to kill me

I want to go get more sweet tea but I really don't want to get up. My laziness is eating my soul. What now?!

I keep thinking I can feel things crawling on me. I love this song. The Reflecting God. I'm just coming to like Manson a lot. It's very happy music.

I need chapstick. However, that means I have to go into my room, which means opening my door and letting that nasty little crawley centipede have the opportunity to creep into my purple haven. Imagine the horror of waking up to a bloodcurdling scream by Abi, who has woken and found a centipede crawling into her ear to devour her brain. She grabs a pencil and starts viciously inserting it into her ear, trying to get the bug out, jumping up and down and screaming at the top of her lungs: "EWEWEWEWEWWWWWW!!!!!! EWWWWW! IT'S TRYING TO EAT MY BRAIN! EWWWWW! EWWWWW!!!!!" Not a pretty sight, as I'm sure you can determine.

Manicpost. =) Yaymanicpost.

Abi's making like a fetus OUT---------------------------

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Nicole

March 2013

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