Where Has Olivia Been?

And why hasn't she been posting?

Besides the obvious--right here--and the usual--she's been too lazy busy--Olivia actually has some pretty good reasons for sealing herself from the world.

Exhibit A:

Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus.

That's right, Olivia had MRSA.

That--that purple thing was inside of her!

It's kind of paradoxical, really, that something such a pretty shade of purple could be so wicked, and in the wicked-bad kind of way rather than the wicked-good or wicked-cold kind of way.

"Um, Olivia," you say, "it's not really purple. It's only purple because smart scientist people dyed it that way so you could see it better."

"Oh, yeah, um, right. I knew that." She tugs on her blonde hair. "I just forget things sometimes!"

Still, it's a blasphemous usage of the color purple!

You might be wondering now what having MRSA entails. (And what it means: it is a staph bacterium that has mutated to be resistant to a number of antibiotics, which makes it doubly nasty.)

Well, to abridge this story, Olivia got a small pump on her leg which was very sore, and then it got very, VERY sore, and then she got more very, VERY sore sores on her legs which then burst and gushed blood and pus everywhere (it's a very, VERY good thing that Olivia takes a fascination to these things and is not easily disgusted by blood and pus, because if she were, she would have retched on top of it all). On Monday Olivia had a doctor's appointment already scheduled, and when the doctor took one look at the worst of the sores, she told Olivia's mother to take her to the ER and get admitted to the hospital.

Olivia was rather angry when she heard this. Olivia, you see, HATES hospitals. This is also a little paradoxical, because Olivia is quite fond of science and especially of medical-related things, but she LOATHES medical environments with every fiber of her being. (Her mother wants her to be a pediatrician, but Olivia says she would die to spend any more of her life in a clinical setting than she already does, and instead desires to become a large animal veterinarian, so she can largely work outdoors.) 

She also learned she has a good deal of depression which she keeps at bay by staying insanely busy, but being idle in the hospital, which is an exceedingly dark and gloomy place to begin with, put her over the edge, and she sobbed, inconsolable, for hours, even though she was responding very well to the treatment and knew she would probably get to go home very soon.

Overall, her two nights (and threeish days combined) in the hospital were a very dark and slightly traumatizing time she prefers not to think about, but she survived emotionally by reading Job (and especially 6:10) and praying (for herself and others) and reading some Hamlet (which is NOT what you should read when you need a pick-me-upper, though it is very well written), and she has a large group of truly amazing friends (and family) who prayed for her, and she responded amazingly well to the antibiotics and got to go home Wednesday, and was well enough with the doctor's permission to go to homeschool co-op Thursday, a piano lesson Friday, work on the ongoing project of revamping her room Saturday, and go antiquing and bookshopping* (you can save that footnote till you get to the end of this sentence, because that footnote is long, but you probably already read that footnote anyway, so sorry, and I'm just stretching out this paragraph now) with her mom Sunday, and resume run-on-sentencing on Monday, though the people she came into contact with treated her a bit like a leper, for which she can't really blame them, because MRSA is nasty and nobody wants it.

(And yes, she might have made that sentence super long just for the sake of it and to show you that she is much better now.)

She shall continue her antibiotics course till Thursday, and while her wounds are still a bit sore when she moves in a certain way, they are much, much improved. (She was in so much pain in the hospital, the nurses wanted her to take narcotics, but Olivia does not like feeling loopy, so she only took Tylenol, and dealt with the pain.)

Well, and there you have it: the tale of Olivia's hospital trauma experience, which turned out to be augmented rather than abridged. To (badly) paraphrase Mark Twain, she doesn't have the time to write a short post.

So hopefully now you understand why Olivia has not been up to blogging lately. Hopefully, she will blog a bit more if she finds the time once she makes up for a week unproductivity, though she doesn't really NEED to make up for it, because no one forces a school or any other schedule upon her but herself, and she was so immensely productive last semester she kind of needed a break; she just feels slightly panicky when she is not intensely productive (it probably goes back to keeping that depression at bay).


*She met two pretty cool people at Barnes & Noble. The first showed her to the Shakespeare section, and she had recently played Olivia in a production of Twelfth Night. Then, as Olivia was checking out (well, really her mother was doing the checking out, but anyway) with a rather nerdy stack of books (Twelfth Night, The Tempest, a nonfiction book on Shakespeare, Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, and Tennessee William's The Glass Menagerie) (yes, Olivia is doing a self-conducted study of drama), the woman checking them out asked which class she was in, for two classes at a nearby university were reading the latter two plays. When Olivia's mother told her that Olivia was, in fact, reading them purely for fun, and that she was a tenth grade homeschooler, the lady didn't even bat an eye, for she too had been homeschooled, and therefore understood these things.

That was almost as long as some of the footnotes in some of the editions of Shakespeare Olivia looked at. She is leaving it in a large font, to spare your eyes.

7x7 Award

Olivia knows what you are thinking. Olivia? Received a math award?

You see, she graduated at age eleven from UC Berkeley with a degree in quantum physics. While there, she received the Nobel Prize for solving a perplexing question that has plagued mathematicians for centuries:

What is seven times seven?

UC Berkeley being, of course, the name of her kitchen table, and mathematicians referring to fellow elementary students.*

But she did solve a problem yesterday (note: this post was written several weeks ago) that her mother could not.** The radio person asked, What is five to the zeroth power?

Contrary to popular belief, it is not zero, but one. Because 5^4 is 625, and 5^3 is 125 (which is 625/5), and 5^2 is 25 (which is 125/5), and 5^1 is 5 (which is 25/5)--and so 5^0 is 5/5, which is 1. Isn't she smarticle?***

You have just witnessed a mathematical ramble--one that does not lament the methods used to teach math--one that was... almost... fun to write--and Olivia is now very concerned for her health.

But all that was not the point of this post.

Olivia means to thank Aloha for nominating her for the 7x7 Blog Award.

She hadn't heard of it until until Aloha tagged her, but it appears that one is to address seven things about one's blog, and then nominate seven other bloggers to award. The seven things to be addressed are as follows:

1. Most Beautiful Post: It is hard to answer this without feeling haughty... The most beautiful post that Olivia has written may be The Breath of Fall, but that's not saying a whole lot since she hasn't written many posts like that. The most beautifully written, if she includes all posts, as well as probably the most visually appealing, is the last From the Word post, pairing roughly the first half of Isaiah 40 with images she took in the Blue Ridge in North Carolina (plus an amaryllis, which was in her house) (that's the flower, for the botanically challenged).

2. Most Popular Post: Immanuel. If you want to increase your pageviews, post famous biblical paintings. That post is by far the most popular, and she gets traffic from Google image searches like "mother mary" or "the annunciation" from all over the world, and sometimes in other languages, which confuses her, because she's never written Mother Mary in any of the Eastern European languages.

3. Most Controversial Post: Well, non-Christians would disagree with something in nearly all her posts, but her single most controversial post might be The Woes of Mathematics (ironic that she links to this after touting her mathematical knowledge above?). A number might disagree with her views on education. She hasn't written many posts on education or on deeper subjects, though. If she gets to those, she would have a good deal of controversial posts.

4. Most Helpful Post: NaPiWriMo, because the event marks the turning point in many an aspiring novelist's career. ... No, she really doesn't have any helpful posts.

5. Most Surprisingly Successful Post: Besides the aforementioned Immanuel, which garnered 819 pageviews while the next most popular has 70, the most surprising would have to be Day 3: A Favorite Book. Again, the traffic sources to that page are from Google Images--this time for such keywords as "stack of books" or "hoarder house". Should she be concerned that her blog appeared in a search for hoarder house?

6. Most Underrated Post: While she can't complain about the pageviews for The Wonderful World of Amoebae (it was the third most popular last month, and sixth all time), she's amazed it hasn't received more comments oohing and ahing over the adorable little amoebae!****

7. And finally, Most Pride-Worthy Post: Really? Is Olivia supposed to be proud of this anthology of delirius insomnia-induced drabble? There are a few, however, that don't make her want to take this blog out and shoot it after posting. Writing in third person especially amuses her (she rewrote this post from first person to third person, in fact), and some of the posts that don't shame her terribly are The Post of Shame (...should she be concerned that this does not shame her?) and Olivia Goes to the Doctor, both epic tales chronicling the adventures of Olivia. (By the way, the wound inflicted by the malevolent Empty Box still lingers.)

And now it is time for Olivia to nominate seven lucky bloggers! She will try to pick bloggers who have not, to her knowledge, already been nominated for this award.

And I'm switching to first person, because it feels weird nominating in the third person.

Abby at a girl with wings. She's articulate and writes about a number of relevant topics in a humorous yet thought-provoking style. It's one of my favorite blogs to follow.

Olga at You Are My Hope. She's an awesome person who lives in an awesome state, and I just want her to know that I do read her blog (although I'm behind in all my blog-reading), but meany Blogger eats my comments.

Birdi at chirpings of a bluebird. She's funny and positive, even when life throws bad things her way, and quite possibly one of the nicest bloggers I follow. Her influence can be seen in my blog... like the third person writing... and tweaking (*coughcheatingcough*) the last award I received... And it's fun reading about life in New Zealand. Homeschoolers are pretty much the same everywhere!

Kayla at Dancing Flames. Another writing, reading, horse-loving, Christian homeschooler! Unfortunately she began her blog as I fell behind in my blog-reading, but I look forward to catching up on hers.

Skyeler at A Maiden's Notes. We're so similar sometimes I wonder if we're related. Her blog, for all it's reallycoolness, doesn't receive enough attention. (Not that I've given it any of late.) This ought to change!

Bubbles at Tsepic Tales. Because he's a cool person and he needs to post more!

ZNZ at jotting down notes. I don't think I've ever read her blog without laughing. She cleverly writes about the woes of writing and raptures of reading, as well as other cool stuff like cuttlefish and Galileo, and with deeply stirring artwork, too. ;)


The Nobel-winning answer, by the way, was luck sevenfold.



*She was, unfortunately, legally constrained to fifth grade at the age of eleven, because of the silly notion that those born in the last several weeks of the year are to be placed in the same grade as those born the following year. But luckily in homeschool, grade is irrelevant.
**After all, Poor is the student who does not surpass his master.
***Of course, she did not discover this reasoning on her own.
****She jests. Mostly. But who doesn't love unicellular organisms whose method of locomotion involves pseudopods?

Gift Givers and Recipients

Apple cider and Reese's really don't go together.

Now that we have gotten that important bit of information out of the way, on with the post. I have a bit of a headache (thanks to Tylenol and tea it is waning) so I don't really feel like looking at a computer screen. Ergo I resort to e-ink! This post is brought to you by my Kindle. We shall see how this goes, since it gives me a warning that Blogger is not compatible with this browser.

I've been meaning to blog more, but various matters need tending to and have absorbed my time. And, okay, I confess I just haven't felt much like writing. But I do have good news, for we have gotten a new wireless router, and it actually works and doesn't kick us offline every time we watch video or upload pictures, so you may get to see more photos.

I am not really fond of how those last two paragraphs turned out and I would rewrite them, but it is just too hard typing on this thing.

Now for the test. I shall see if inserting video works from the Kindle. Drumroll, please.

...

Well, I guess I can't know for sure! The cursor jumps a certain distance when directed by the five way controller thing, and I can't get it to hover over the video insertion button. This poses a problem.

Instead, maybe I'll just tell you  about a guy named Delius. I was reading one night and a nice song playing on the classical channel caught my attention - his Florida Suite.

I looked him up on Ye All-Telling Wikipedia. Delius was  the son of a merchant but had no interest in doing the same, and somehow ended up in Florida manging an orange grove (whether of his own volition or of his father's coercion is unclear). He paid little heed to his managerial duties, however, and instead pursued composing.

I was fascinated by his story, until I read on to his unfaithful marriage and strings of affairs. It makes me wonder, why does God give such gifts to staunch atheists?

I suppose it's up to those who receive the gifts whether they praise the gift Giver or turn around and spit in His face...

I Have Sat Here For Several Minutes Pondering Titles. So Here's One.

A. My. It's Friday and I haven't posted since Tuesday, when I left you with promises of many posts to come?

But knowing me, that's really not surprising.

B. Blogger. Is. Driving. Me. Insane. I try to respond to your comments, and it eats me! So. This is what I tried to write in response to the comments on my last post.

Mercy--It's a masterpiece! That's what!
Specifically, a scrap of fabric folded in half and sewn in straight lines over and over and over.
Thomas--Thing. Only thing.
What is it called, anyway? I guess I'd know if I actually looked at the thing.
There I go again. Thing. Thing, thing, thing, thing.

Of course, I couldn't leave you wondering what I'd say in response, because everything I write is so profound.

Like thing. Bask in awe of the poeticness.

C. I had a lovely afternoon admiring the underbelly of a tree. I picnicked in the woods in my backyard and did a bit of schoolwork. (The many wonderful things about homeschooling!)  Littlest Horsie nibbled on my blanket. Squirrels chattered at me. Fire ants found their way up my pants.

From the outside, luckily.

D. The first time I wrote this paragraph, I made such a horrible error I fear I shall never forgive myself. I don't trust myself grammatically to go on at this hour. But it's Friday, and I have a duty to provide geekiness to my readers... although most won't see it earlier than Saturday.

E. I'm stalling.

F. The longer I keep you waiting, the more time I have to find something for Geeky Friday. 'Cause I forgot to plan ahead this week.

G. Why is it that I forget the many other things I have to do when I am idle, and suddenly they come back to me when I'm in the middle of something?

H. When I pause, I have to sing through the alphabet again to remember what letter comes next.

I. I've always found it amusing that the alphabet spells "Hi!".

J. Perhaps I should actually go look for something to post now.

K. Aha!

L. Khan Academy is awesome.

M. I could easily spend all day watching his videos.

N. In fact, I might spend the rest of the night doing that.

O. It's Friday night, after all.

P. The night of nerdiness.

Q. Now I feel obligated to finished the alphabet, even though I really have nothing left to say.

R. Waking to Bach is a lovely thing. I've set my alarm to play his organ music at seven-thirty each morning. (I'd set it earlier if I managed to get to bed at a human hour.) If ever you need a boost in the mornings, I prescribe Bach. 

S. I have no idea what movie my father is watching right now, but it looks... really rather horrible.

T. I'm rather tired tonight, so it will be amusing tomorrow to see what typos I didn't catch before posting.

Translation: Please don't burn me at the stake if you find an error, because I'll do it myself.

U. It's a strange letter.

V. I need to read. Eh. You know something's wrong when I'm not looking forward to reading.

W. This information is all quite useless and nothing you were really interested in knowing, save for K.

X. Xylophones.

Y. Yaks.

Z. Zebras!

Next time won't you sing with me?

A Marvelous Masterpiece

Olivia should be posting one of the two awards she's been tagged in recently or uploading pretty mountain pictures or writing about a serious topic because her blog's been disolving into fluff lately.

Instead, she's going to show you the first thing she ever sewed.

See how perfectly aligned her backstitching is and how beautifully she followed the pencil lines her teacher drew?

*coughnotcough*

But one day, she'll be able to look at that little scrap of fabric and marvel at how she's improved.

Or not.

Olivia could ramble on about several things, like how she pulled that muscle in her side eleven weeks ago and it still hasn't healed even with all her carefulness, but she'll have to save such ranting for another time for she promised her mother she would read tonight.

It's the first book she has ever, ever, in her life been forced to read.

The next will probably be the driver's manual. Thing.

It was nice knowing you.

Our *Dear* Mr. Blogger is Videoist

Mother Dearest sent this to me for this week's Geeky Friday.

Only, you will never know what this is because Blogger doesn't let me insert non-YouTube videos that aren't on my computer. How rude, and exclusive, and discriminating, and inconvenient!

Blogger has been bothering me lately for lots of reasons. Like--ahem--NOT BEING ABLE TO COMMENT ON MY OWN BLOG. First, whenever I tried to comment with my Google Account it told me I was not authorized to access the page (...eh?), so I've had to post for a while now with a name and URL. But this morning it wouldn't even let me do that. And poor, dear Birdi's comments get all eaten up too, and possibly other commenters' that I don't know about because they can't comment!

Blogger's probably mad at me because I mentioned considering switching to Wordpress. But I considered switching to Wordpress because Blogger is possessed. So Blogger started it.

Anyway, back to Geeky Friday.

I am afraid I can only provide a link, thanks to Blogger's... videoism.

Linkage provided.

It's about asteroids, for the curious.

The Woes of Mathematics

As a warning, I am tired and quite incapable of thinking clearly at the moment. This post is going to be a jumbled mess. I am going to regret posting this at such a late hour. I am going to wish I had never posted this when I am in such a state of mind. But it's Geeky Friday, and I must post something.

It may seem quite shocking that I would write a whole post all about the dreaded math.

On the other hand, it's quite shocking that I don't like it. After all, all life is biology*, all biology is physiology, all physiology is chemistry, all chemistry is physics, and all physics is math (or however the saying goes). And I'm all about learning how and why things work.

For while I didn't know why I disliked math, other than that I did. But I think I've finally pinned down my main objections to it.

Force. I was a nerd from the very start, and avidly pursued my studies beyond what was required. But all the other subjects were so interesting and exciting to me, math tended to get neglected. My mother, therefore, had to make me sit down and do my addition and subtraction.

That brought my enthusiasm to a screeching halt.

I have the unfortunate tendency to despise anything that I feel forced to do. This is, in fact, likely the primary reason I don't drive: I was forced behind the wheel a few years ago, and I think I'm about to be forced to get my permit. I have a natural response to resist pressure.

I suppose this makes me sound like a wayward, rebellious child, but I don't think this reaction is at its root necessarily a bad thing. This is the same reflex that causes me to resist societal influences.** It's just, perhaps, taken a bit too far here.

Still, coercion is an ineffective method of imparting knowledge. As Plato said, All learning which is acquired under compulsion has no hold upon the mind.

Method of problem solving. In most cases, I'd rather toil for hours until, by trial and error, I discover the solution on my very own, than read how to solve the problem their way step by step in boring detail. I skip over bits of the process, working it out in my head, and scribble out others. (This means when I am interrupted and look down at the paper again I have no idea what I was doing or how I got there.) I attempt to forge short cuts; many don't work, but some do.

This makes me wonder what people like Einstein or Stephen Hawking thought about their schooling. Not that I am anything like them, but I suspect I am better at math than standard teaching methods allow me to realize.

Of course, this is coming from someone who feels like a mathematical genius when she correctly adds two single-digit numbers on the first try. So then again, maybe not.

Lack of science. Math is fascinating as it applies to the world. But when all I'm doing is empty equations on the paper, and solving the problems brings about no scientific revelation, it feels like my time should be better spent. Math that does nothing is boring. It is intangible and pointless and dull and if ever I could find a program that taught it as it applies practically, to science, to something, oh, I would be so happy!

Lack of milkshakes. As I was pondering all this, I suddenly remembered a long-forgotten part of my life, a time in which math was a happy event. My father used to write two very large numbers (at least, they seemed impossibly long sums at the time) and ask me to add them. When I did several of these, he made me a milkshake. I had so much fun doing that. I don't remember why that stopped.


Can't someone out there write a curriculum that teaches math in a sensible way and that puts knowledge gained to use?

Anyway, what got me thinking about all of this was The Official SAT Question of the Day, which I suppose was the ultimate purpose of this post. So there you go. Have fun. Be nerdy. I really should go to bed.

*The very best subject ever.
**Besides, of course, the conscious realization that society has issues.

A Great, Terrible Tragedy

"Oh no!" you say. "Olivia missed Musical Monday! Something must be terribly wrong! Was she kidnapped and held hostage? Did her house burn down? Did she contract the reallyscarysoundingosis?"

No, my dear readers. I am afraid a calamity far greater befell me last night. The most tragic, most dreaded scenario of all did I face:

I was internetless.

GASP!

Okay, so maybe I'm being just a tiny bit dramatic. Just a tiny bit. Yesterday morning, I read a book, so I did not post in the morning. In the afternoon was my piano lesson, and then we went and got me some new glasses (squee! I can see again! Well, not quite yet--they won't be ready for seven to ten days) and some groceries ('cause, you know, I guess eating is kind of important. Who'd have guessed?).

In fact, I did not even open my laptop until 6:03 yesterday evening.

I told my mother, "It is 6:03 and I have not been on the computer today. Are you proud of me, or concerned?"
"I'm concerned," she said.
And she went and got my computer.

But at 6:03, I was wiped out from the activities of the day (piano lessons are tiring!! And add Walmart on top of that... phew...), and I could not breathe very well (my respiratory system goes on strike sometimes), and I could not think of a unique-ish video to post (because I've done a lot of piano lately, and I wanted something orchestral, or at least different). (Are you tired of the parentheses yet?)

So I surfed the web for a little while (*coughafewhourscoughcough*) until I was recovered. And then I had a late-night date with Bach. I was playing one of his Inventions on my digital piano/full-length keyboard thing, setting it to all sorts of instruments (including the ancient percussion instrument, Rain, and the wind instrument, Wind, and other such things). Bach sounds lovely on everything from trumpets to mandolins to castanets! The only things that, erm, don't sound so good are evil laughter and clapping.

By then, it was ten-thirty, and then I remembered the horses still hadn't gotten their dinner. I went and did that. When I came in, I finished the last few voices on my piano/keyboard thing, and then logged onto Blogger.

And then... my internet died.

This happens all the time (several times a day, at least!), and is not-too-difficultly fixed by resetting the modem and unplugging the router. However, it was late, and the modem and router are in the bedroom in which my father was asleep. So I just went to bed.

Now that you have read the explanation of yesterday's events which turned out much longer than anticipated, here is this week's (slightly belated) installment.

This is the first movement (at least, I'm fairly certain it would still be considered a movement... but my limited classical knowledge fails in the subject of... konzertstücks... so maybe it's not a movement?) of Schumann's Konzertstück for Four Horns and Orchestra. I got to see this piece performed live by the symphony orchestra a while ago. Much fun!

Very, Very Tired; or, You're Having a What?

I did not post yesterday. You were probably frenzied in a panic. You might have called the National Guard. For Olivia said she would post every day, and she did not. Therefore something must be terribly, terribly wrong.

I was not kidnapped, or away from home, or devoid of internet, or forgetful, or even without a topic about which to post (which is a first). I was just terribly tired. Tired tired. Exhausted, one might say. To the point that it took five minutes to comprehend one sentence in the book I was reading (it did not help that the characters were also very weary and in the dark), and scratching my nose was a chore.

I even went to bed at nine, which is the earliest I've gone to bed in years. I got up at eight thirty. Even after all that sleep, which is the most I can ever remember getting, I am equally tired today. My mother suggests I take a nap, but I do not like naps. Sleeping in the daytime is depressing, and scary.

All of this tiredness is the result of getting poison injected into one's body. Now, don't worry--this poison is for purposes medical*, and it is something that occurs regularly, and if you are curious you might get an explanation, but that is not the purpose of this post, and is irrelevant, so I will skip explanations for now, and this is turning into quite the run-on sentence.

So! Where was I? Oh, yes, tired. I was tired. Very much so. And you can probably tell I still am because of the way this post is written. Quite rambling, and not really making sense, and it's actually much easier to write when I'm like this because I'm too tired to care, ha!

Anyway. Because of all this poisony stuff, I was very, very tired. Yesterday I wanted to write a seriousish post, for yesterday was one year after my mother discovered that she was pregnant with her second child (I was the first... obviously), but at nine, my usual post-writing time of late, I went to bed.

So I'm trying to write it today. In Tiredese. Prepare yourself.

Actually, I'm too tired to write all of it. So I'll just start with the evening of August 12, 2010. I was in the living room on the computer, and my parents were in their room. Little did I know that my mother was taking a pregnancy test. The thought had never crossed my mind that my mother might have another child.

That is, until she entered the room right then. I knew, somehow, that she was about to tell me she was having a baby. As she asked me to sit on the couch beside her, I almost asked outright if that's what it was, but I didn't in case it turned out to be something really trivial.

So she told me. I don't think I said anything for several minutes. All I could do was laugh. My mother! Was having a baby!

The next several weeks were spent sitting around in shock. She went to the OB/GYN--and discovered she was twenty-five weeks along. Also, she was having a boy. My parents were adamant when I was in the womb that they wanted my gender to be a surprise, but this time, they said, they couldn't handle any more surprises.

It's hard to believe all that was a year ago. This is what we have now:

Well, not now now, because that picture was taken in June, but close enough.

*I'm not really sure why I switched those two words around. It just sounded cool. Actually, I tried to make that Latin, but I am not yet knowledgeable enough in the language, and I'm tired.

Thirty-Two

1. The heat index yesterday was 106. That is simply unacceptable.
2. Brother is a technological genius.
3. Chocolate milk is delicious.
4. Lists are fun to write.
5. Olivia was going to stop at 3, but then she kept going.
6. She isn't quite sure why she's writing in third person.
7. Perhaps it's due to the fact that she was just reading Birdi's blog.
8. She did a video call on Skype for the first time today. It was slightly terrifying, but also really fun to be able to see her friend face-to-face. And her friend's adorable brother.
9. She learned she isn't the only one who forgets to eat because she gets distracted doing other things.
10. She is probably the only one who forgets to eat because she is so riveted by her school work.
11. She is having tipaing--er, typing--difficulties tonight.
12. This list now has twelve things.
13. The number thirteen reminds her of a story.
14. The story begins at a conference she attended years ago. After the day was through, and everyone was heading back to their hotel rooms, she got in the elevator with several other people. These included an older man, another girl a couple years older than Olivia, and the girl's parents. The girl pressed the floor level buttons for everyone, and when she inquired of the older man's floor, he said, "Thirteen." The girl searched and searched, but she could not find the button for the thirteenth floor. The builders of that building were superstitious, and did not build a thirteenth floor. Well, they did, but they called it the fourteenth floor, rather sillily Olivia thinks. Then the man chuckled and gave his real floor number. The End.
15. Brother just fell over.
16. The readers are probably boring of reading this list, Olivia suspects.
17. Olivia will do something interesting to spice this list up.
18. Blueberries!
19. Olivia thinks blueberries are very pretty, and also surprisingly delicious, as she learned today. With enough sugar, that is.
20. Olivia broke a vow today. When they were little, you see, she and her friend were disgusted by blueberries, and promised to never, ever, ever like them. So Olivia was slightly disappointed in herself, she confesses.
21. But she also doesn't mind too much, because blueberries make her think of Maine. Olivia misses going to Maine.
22. To console herself, she is writing a story set in Maine. Which she needs to get back to...
23. Maine is very pretty.
24. Maine is very cold.
25. Google images is handy.
26. Olivia might pull a Benedict Arnold.
27. She thinks Benedict is a nice name. It's too bad it has a negative connotation thanks to Mr. Very Important Arnold.
28. Olivia thinks she should have put a different title before his name, but she can't recall his exact military ranking at this moment, so Mr. Very Important Arnold it is.
29. What is this Benedict Arnoldesque deed Olivia might commit, you ask? She shall leave you in suspense until she has made her decision of whether or not to commit this Benedict Arnoldesque deed. Mwaha.
30. This list has reached thirty things and is now probably getting very boring.
31. So Olivia will pull the most exciting trick of all for her readers.
32. Olivia will end this list.
33. But not without first saying she's going to run another contest.

The Wonderful World of Amoebae

I have a slight fascination with the amoeba.

This fascination, in fact, borders excessive fondness.

I may be the only person in the world who thinks amoebae are cute. Pretty, even.


Don't you just want to huggle it?

What's not to like about a unicellular organism that comfortingly wraps its arms around its prey as it is engulfed and torn apart by enzymes?

"There, there. This won't hurt a bit."

So infatuated am I with amoebae, I wrote a poem dedicated to them.  I'm also collaborating with a friend on a musical starring an amoeba. It's sure to be a Broadway hit.
 

Isn't it pretty? It's like a blob filled with... blobs.

I want a pet amoeba, but instead I have to make due with their cousin, Entamoeba gingivalis. Meet George and Ginger.

They live in my mouth.

But back to the amoeba.

Another part of the reason I like them is that they serve as nice excuses. When my Os come out not quite round, I just say, "Oh, that is a drawing of an amoeba. It's just a coincidence that it's followed by the last five letters of my name." And then I'm only five sixths embarrassed by the awfulness of my penmanship. 

Drawing amoebae gives insecure artists confidence in their ability.

Don't you want an amoeba too?

Credits and stuff: photo one  and three source, photo two source, photo four and five source, image six source.

I Think This is the Title

So, I’m trying out this feature where you can post a blog post through email. I’m assuming the subject of the email becomes the title of the post, but I’m not really sure.

I don’t really have much to write, except that I have nothing to write. Last night working on Script Frenzy, I was so out of things to write my characters engaged in a philosophical discussion concerning the metronome. It was actually sort of interesting, and rather fun to write. And also painfully reminiscent of my own trials involving the metronome…

My metronome scene is pretty much wrapped up, and I’m not sure what to write next. I’m running out of characters to kill off. I guess that’s what I get for making them die in the backstory. I could write backstory, I guess…

Also, I’ve been looking through my NaNo manuscript. (And Outlook spellcheck told me “NaNo” isn’t a word. That is so not true. NaNo is totally a word. I shall add it to the dictionary.) In November, the scenes I believed profaned literature are upon reread actually not as horrific as I remembered, and some of them are quite witty. Almost good, even, ringing with the little truths in life that are often overlooked. One short scene which I had ended abruptly with the words, “Oh, this is so horrific I cannot go on,” was actually rather poetic. Another scene I had been so horrified with I rewrote it twice and made a note to cut the first take, I actually found to be best in its original form.

Unfortunately, the scenes which I had thought at the time were not so bad, were really, really bad. After reading them I thoroughly rinsed my eyes and consulted Poison Control. After explaining to them that no, by NaNo I did not mean NaNO₃, they let me go with instructions to rinse again just in case and call my physician if I experienced anything out of the ordinary in regards to my vision.

The good news, though, is that in general throughout the month of November the quality of my writing increased, reaching its zenith around the time of the creation of my amoeba poem. This I found to be most pleasing. The blood, sweat, and tears I shed producing what I thought at the time to be utter drivel was not completely a waste. Only 70% of it was utter drivel.

(Okay, so I exaggerate. There was actually only a small portion of it that was entirely unsalvageable. The majority just needed major revision.)

What I fear, however, is how nonhorrific I think my Screnzy (which I also had to add to the spellcheck dictionary) is turning out to be. The vast majority of it I feel is actually tolerable quality for a Screnzy script. Which, if the same proves true as it did for NaNo, means what I’m producing is really quite atrocious.

This is getting long and rambling, and I’m pretty far behind in Screnzy and should be writing, so I should wrap it up. Those of you doing Screnzy, how are you doing? And those who did NaNo, did you find your novel better or worse than you remembered when you unearthed the manuscript from the bottom of the drawer?

Week Two Woes

Another stunning masterpiece by yours truly.

I'm behind in Script Frenzy, so naturally, I'm here blogging about it. What is it about the second week of these things (Script Frenzy, NaNoWriMo, you name it) that is so agonizing?

The first week you dive in to a brand new script (or novel or what have you) aflame with passion for your story, keen to let the words flow into your ink (or pixels). You're zipping along, racing furiously after that fluffy plot bunny*, consistently passing your daily quota, when suddenly Week Two hits. That cute, fluffy, wubbable wittle plot bunny was really leading you into a trap--and you fall into the gaping plot hole it placed in your path. 

The darkness inside the hole is disorienting, and you can't even string together a halfway-coherent sentence. Unable to see, you panic, running to and fro and hitting the hard wall of the hole every time. Your characters ditch you, leaving you to rot and die. You crawl into a hole (wait, you're already in a hole...) and go to sleep.

When you wake, it's Week Three. The morning shines brightly, birds sing, and you're like, "Now wait a minute. I can climb out of this hole. I can climb out of this hole! Why didn't I think of that before?!" And you get up and climb out of the hole.

(At least, that's what most NaNoWriMo and Script Frenzy participants seem to claim they find in the third week. I usually find Week Three the worst. But anyway.)

And then, Week Four is usually a blur as you zoom to the finish line. Or, for some, it's blurry from the tears you shed because you didn't win.

So anyway, it's Week Two. I'm not sure I'm all the way down in a hole, but I've hit a rut, definitely. (And I can't form a coherent sentence, which is evident in the quality of this post.) My state of stuckness, though, is mainly caused by my own nerdiness. Chemistry is just too much fun! Who wants to write when one can be learning about matter and its phases?!

The only reason I haven't done any chemistry today, in fact, is because I've been saving it as a reward for catching up to my page-count quota. Which means I really need to close Blogger and open Celtx**, because I am itching to get the scoop on why exactly water expands when it freezes...

But before I go, here's your daily dose of nerdiness.

* If you don't know what a plot bunny is, see ZNZ's explanation.
** Celtx is a wonderful script-writing software and my BFF during April.

Welcome, 2011



Photo courtesy the Associated Press... I think.

So, it's 2011.

First off, the glasses just aren't the same. If the year doesn't have two zeroes, it's just not right.

Second, Happy New Year, everyone!

Third, I have nothing intelligent to say. Every lovely blogger I follow has posted a poignant, eloquent essay reflecting the highs and lows the of past year, or listing ambitions for the year to come, or leaving the past behind to experience 2011 free of nostalgia and regret for what cannot be undone.

This post is neither poignant, nor eloquent, nor to any degree coherent. Kind of like all my posts. So if you'd rather spend your time reading a coherent post, check out any of the blogs listed on the right.

Meanwhile, I'll ramble on about whatever comes to mind as my readers trot off to more interesting, purposeful, [insert suiting adjective denoting worthwhileness] pursuits.

The highlight of the past year was certainly the birth of my baby brother. (And pie. But mostly my brother. Okay, the true highlight was my brother. Though the pie was good too.)

The worst thing of the year was not anything that actually took place, but all those things that didn't happen, everything I could have said and done and did not. Many of those things were reasonably within my grasp, yet I did not exert myself to attain them out of ignorance, out of uncertainty, and often, out of mismanaged time.

I cannot bear to let that happen again.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, per se (if you think of a way to better yourself, why not start right then and there? why wait till January 1?), but the birth of the new calendar year does cause one to reflect on one's priorities, to sort out what truly must be done and what can wait till another time or needn't be done at all. (I don't know about you, but the beginning of the school year has the same effect on me.)

I feel so sage as I sit here listening to the patter of rain on the roof, sipping tea. Sometime in the future I'll unbury this post and laugh at my youth and naivety. But I suppose it will always be like that, won't it? When I'm a hundred years old I'll find something I wrote when I was ninety and marvel at how much I've grown since. I will never achieve an infinite amount of wisdom. I will never finish learning, growing in love and knowledge.

And I have some goals for the not-so-distant future to help me as I grow and learn.

My main goal is to read the Bible.

In ninety days.

Yes, the whole Bible! Meditations of His Love has set up a wonderful program called the Bible Blast, with two different reading plans, one chronological and one in the traditional biblical order, and some great tips for keeping up with the challenge.

It officially starts today and ends March 31, but if you stumble on the link a bit late, don't worry! It's set up so it can be started any time.

I'm keeping a notebook to record inspiring passages, things I'm learning, questions for which to seek answers when I have the time. By the time I'd gotten three chapters into Genesis I'd filled a page of thoughts and things to ponder.

I will also continue my nonbiblical studies. I will explore science, read as much classic literature as I can, study history, (attempt to) learn Latin and whatever other languages I take a fancy to, practice piano, take up another instrument if I can possibly find the time, and even (most likely futilely) attempt to wrap my mind around the dreaded... math. I've always adored learning (other than the dreaded math) and considered my schooling a top priority, but with college fast approaching it's more important than ever.

Another activity to which more time must be devoted is writing. With everything else in life devouring my time and energy I've written very little the past few years. This needs to change. So many stories are begging to be told I fear I will go mad if I don't start carving an hour or two out of each day to write, or revise, or plot, or revise some more.

And friends. I've wonderful friends I've scarcely spoken or written to lately with everything else going on. I miss them. I need to catch up with them.

I've realized I need to be more helpful to others, as well. I am trying to be more attentive to others' needs, to recognize the appropriate times to assist them in whatever I can.

But my absolute number one priority above all this?

God.

With that, I bring this rambling post to a close. I've Genesis chapter eleven to read!

I pray the new year brings blessings and joy to all of you.

(And a slice of pie to whoever can make any sense of this post.)