Very Short Post

It is 1:21 and now officially December 27th. I am sitting in bed with my laptop and WHY can I NOT SLEEP?!?? This is ridiculous. I… I am very very tired…. but I’m not sleeping… why is this?

Twas the day after Christmas… yawn.

And I am dog-tired. The expression makes no sense, but there you go. The family couldn’t get here yesterday and we couldn’t get to them (snowed in, of course, by over two feet of chilly winter evil), so we’re having a delayed Christmas dinner with the rellies: my Nana and Poppop, my uncle, his Austrailian girlfriend and her sister (both really cool people, my stamp of approval for them), my padres, the Twins, and I. Nannie (great-grandmother, she lives in a little “apartment” downstairs that takes up a bit over half of the first floor) is at my Uncle’s staying the night, so we have exactly ten people, which is exactly the number of chairs at our awesomely cool dinner table.
The table is actually a huge converted DOOR that used to be the door to an ancient Indian montastary. It’s made of acadia wood, and has these gorgeous carvings along the sides. Very antique, all that junk.
Now, I just HAVE to tell you what I got for Christmas (only the main stuff, I won’t list all the stocking-stuffers or anything.) I asked for, and recieved, a Waveboard- if you don’t already know what it is, look it up- a Christmas outfit from H&M, and the complete boxed DVD set of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, which is 16 discs long, and no slouch of a present either. Oh yeah, and my Nainnie gave me a plain red flannel throw blanket. Goodie.
At the moment, I’m avoiding being sociable by sitting in my room on my zebra-striped beanbag trying to reconfigure the settings on my stupid hand-me-dowm laptop. Which I totally love and am grateful for, by the way (trying not to inflict the wrath of the Slow-Down-Your-Piece-Of-Crap-Laptop gods here).
Darkblood is being put on hold for Christmas vacation. I’ve discovered that I do my best writing at school, and subsequentially all three of the books are being written simultaniously as scattered across about a dozen different notebooks. Progress is slower than one would expect, but writing is really hard to do in my circumstances. Most of the time I’m at school or doing school related work, and the rest of the time I tend to be sketching (on the plus side my artwork is hugely improved), reading, playing Gameboy, watching TV, surfing the Net, writing songs or poetry, or hanging out with friends. The time I get to write is pretty tiny with everything else that I have to do.
And now, here’s a piece of a song I’m working on.

Longing And Frustration
What good is a love of music
if it never goes your way
I’ve heard the song of the world inside my head
but it’s a tune that I’ll never play.
What good is a love of rhythm
if I’m a step behind the beat
if the drumsticks always clatter down to the floor
and the dance is too fast for my feet
What good is a love of playing
if your instument can’t be tuned
if the guitar strings just snap to cut the back of my hand
if your flute’s broken and silent, ruined
What good is a love of singing
if nobody knows that you can
if you’re alway put down and never get your big chance
and if you only have one real fan
What good is a love of music
if my arias I sing alone
if the melody falls beyond my grasp
if the tearstains blur the notes
What good are my heart-song’s lyrics
if nobody wants to hear
if nobody cares to know, oh
what good is a love of music like this if
nobody wants
and nobody cares to know.

Poem: Seasons Cycle

I wonder why the world wheels round
and never stops to rest.
I wonder if it makes a sound
in space, as one might guess.
We only see the shifting sky
when days and nights exchange
But colors do not pass us by
in seasons they arrange
The brilliant blue of summer skies
its gold heat shimmering
The verdant lawns and children’s cries
warm nights in starlight glimmering
Red-orange-golden autumn trees
your breath as thick white mist
Back to class in a chilly breeze
faces of friends you’ve missed
Then creeping winter lengthens night
silver etchings with frost
White snow, warm holiday firelight
a cozy sleeper lost
And spring comes green along with rain
gray skies, rainbow flowers
Preparing for the warmth again
through melting, growing hours
The seasons change and seasons go
leaving us in a blink
Leaving us wondering how we know
if time is what we think.

Just a quick comment on the snow

I love winter. It’s cozy and sleepy and wonderful… unless you’re walking to the bus stop at 7:00in ankle-deep snow. Otherwise, yay!
I have been praying to the fickle gods of weather that the passes open so that I can hit the slopes on Saturday. Snowboarding and Christmas are what totally make winter for me, I’ve gotta say. So if Snoqualmie Pass is open, here I come!
Oh, and about those weather gods. To make a sacrifice to them, you just burn something, throw your arms in the air and look up, and yell “To the gods!” (This is a funny inside joke from the end-of-the-year school trip last spring.)
Life is still good. Chilly, yeah, but good. I have to figure out what I want my parents to get me, and what to get my little brothers, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Any suggestions?
Also, for eleven days in January, my family is going to be hosting an Australian exchange student named Kadi! That promises to be lots of fun. It’s especially good since I am almost certainly going to Australia as an exchange student myself, in my junior year. That will be such an incredible experience, and I can’t wait to go.
That about wraps it up for me. I have math homework to do, after a grace period today in which she didn’t check our work from this weekend- which I didn’t do. How lucky am I? However, that means lots of Geometry for me, so until… whenever I post next.

~Laila

Unsettled, but content

I’m back!

What a hideous delay. All of my apoligies. I hope to be more consistent from now on.

Darkblood is proceding well, and I have an amazing fanbase in my Humanities class and Humanities techer, Mr. Allen. Much love to all my new and old friends, and to my two best teachers- Mr. Allen and Mrs. Palmiter.

Not much to say at the moment because I have so much homework- I really hate proofs. If it weren’t for proofs, I’d still be getting an A+ in Geometry. Anyway, here’s a poem:

Forgetful

One day I roamed quite far away, and far away I found

That a bright light shone inside me but it trailed along the ground

And so I wandered, following this light-tail far and wide

Past more sights and sounds and smells than memory can abide

Past hills and rolling mountains clad in verdant, vivid green

Past salty seas that stormed and splashed to cover deeps unseen

Past plains that stretched and shimmered gold in heat that stilled the air

Past jungle thickets, filled with mysteries strange, exotic, rare

Past a town I once knew well, and there my line stopped dead

And there I stayed, for you, my love, held the end of thread.