Some Book Covers

Ha! Wow. Getting so old. Practically a geezer.

Yeah, anyway, just thought I'd show off some book covers! As an aspiring graphic artiste`, thought I'd get cracking on my portfolio. So without further ado, I present my works of art:

(photography found on weheartit.com... as I've yet to properly photograph my own book covers)

Visitors and Soup

Levi and Kassy pulled into our bumpy, L-shaped driveway last night around 8:30. They brought along the newest addition to their family, an adorable German Shepherd pup christened 'Chewy'.

 I had just finished hurriedly sweeping the house in prep for our guests while Mum kept her eyes glued to the window. Dad played with the touch screen Dell, a concentrated wrinkle in his brow. As for Jesse and Nanner, the other two occupants of the house, they were splayed out in the living room with nothing better to do than play iPad games.

 I had the privilege of being the first to see my older brother, after I'd finished my chores and pulled on a hoodie to head outside. The sky was navy and my eyes caught the glare of two headlights piercing the darkness. A smile lifted on  to my face, I'm sure.

Two groggy figures emerged from the car doors, and I rushed over the slippery driveway-leaves to claim Chewy from Kassy's arms. Priorities, people.

We spent the night catching up with them. It was kind of nice; laughing and exchanging barbed comments with my older brother over a bowl of my Mum's should-be-world-renowned Italian Wedding Soup. It made me flash back to when family time was all the time. To when I shared a house with five older brothers. Now, with the ever-changing present, it's almost sad to stand back and watch myself grow up.

Nano Failure

I officially hate my lack of inspiration. It has ruined NaNo for me.

You know about NaNoWriMo? All of November is devoted to novel writing, for aspiring writers across the world. You have 30 days and 50,000 words... or another goal of your choice. It's now the 13th and how many words do I have? Little over 2,000.

Yeah. Don't think I'll be fulfilling the quota for this year.

I was supposed to finish my book. I was supposed to power through writer's block like a 300-pound linebacker.. but no. I guess not. I guess this year, my novel will have to sit untouched, unwritten, and unread for another 365 days... or however long it takes for this fog of uninspired blah to get lost.

Seriously. I just want to write again.

Tired

Do you ever just feel tired?

Not so much the sleep-deprivation type, where all you have to do to feel justified is blame the seven cans of Mountain Dew you chugged before passing out at 2 AM. That's the simple kind of tired, the kind that lets you indulge in a nice, long nap, and then miraculously it dissolves into normality once more.

But then there's tired. Tired as in mental exhaustion. And it would take more than a fleet of Sith fighter jets lasering the surface of the planet to drag you out of it. You're not sure from what, but you know it hasn't always been this heavy.

 It occurred to me, as I was laying there with my head on my binder during Biology, daydreaming once again about taking a bubble bath in herb-scented soap: I was really freaking exhausted. At the same time, I couldn't think of anything I wanted less than sleep.

Why does that happen? What makes our bodies become internally heavy? My brain feels like it's chained to the back of my head, squished into a balled-up-rag-shaped mush.

It's not just my attention span that it affects. It's everything from Food to Free time. Instead of swallowing five casadillas without taking the time to chew, I feel to exhausted to eat. I'm too exhausted to organize my locker. Put my papers in their respective binder-slots. Brush my hair. Get up.

Pretty soon I get home from school and all I want to do is sit on my computer chair and scroll slowly through Memestache. Over and over again. And when my eyes start to feel like sandpaper, I lay down.

And I'm way too exhausted to make my bed, so it gets to the point where I stop getting up. I just hear my alarm go off in the morning and I lay there for five minutes; ten. The rest of the world is moving fast-paced as always, but I'm stuck in a state of constant REM. Walking REM.

But when I Googled all this stuff, my symptoms told me that I was, like, depressed or something.

And that just seems... sad.

The Flat-Belly Resolution

I had a moment of panic today when I realized my size-9 shorts fit me ah-lawt better than they used to, about ten pounds ago. Argh. Sadness. After-school snacking and a lack of good exercise weather has really taken its toll on me.

So I'm set on shedding my sophomore ten (if that's even a real thing), and I'm not exactly sure how but THE FLAB MUST COME OFF! PRONTO!

After last summer- no, wait, make that two summers ago- after a successful two-month period where I actually got rid of twenty-or-so pounds, I'm thinking recovery is still possible. I just have to sacrifice my after-school casadilla. And probably my beloved Chai Lattes for a while.

As for exercise, we have a rowing machine with a thin layer of dust forming on it, and I think I shall put my viking skills to the test on that one.

It's funny how I've accepted the grown-up truth that I can't lose ten pounds in a week like I really, really want to. But now I've set a reasonable goal, I think, and it involves honoring my once-owned Coon Hound, Penny (who is now the property of some happy farm family off in Wonderland)

If by summer, I can achieve the taut belly that my old hound dog used to have, I will award myself with a Victorias Secret shopping spree. Along with the flat stomach I'm hoping to attain envy-worthy legs as well. Legs that actually look good in cutoff daisy-dukes.

Heh heh. I'm not so sure the daisy dukes will fly with mi padre, but a girl can dream, right?!