November 2016

 Big announcement: I'm doing NaNoWriMo with G4:O!
 Of course, I'm not cheating the targeted word count by counting what I've already written, so I made a separate document containing only what I've written in November.
 In case you don't know what NaNoWriMo, it stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's basically a challenge for anyone who's ever thought of writing a novel. From 12 AM November 1st until 11:59 PM on November 30th, you write as many words as you can. The challenge is 50,000 words, but you don't have to make it. Last year, I didn't. It's just a way to see how far you get.
 For me, the fun part was updating my word count and watching the column chart grow. I don't know why, I just like graphs and charts. They make things look fun, and they're easier and faster to understand by a quick glance, too.
 Last year, I tried writing a side story (not related to the G series) for NaNoWriMo, but I made the mistake of forcing myself to do what I didn't want to do. I kept feeling like writing G4:O. It was pure torture not writing it for an entire month. That's why I missed so many days.
 But this time is different. I figured out how to write G4:O without cheating. I had a writing buddy who told me that she was using a story she already started, and her word count was ginormous.
 Personally, I don't like cheating, lying, being fake, or anything like that. I got lied to when I was a kid by adults too many times, and kids hardly ever played fair games with me, so I've grown sensitive to it and conscious of myself. But it's not a bad thing. Most people have a bad habit of lying a lot, and they either have difficulty breaking it, or they give themselves the notion that it's totally okay to lie.
 But anyway, I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year. It's not too late for you to join. You can even be my writing buddy. My username is SlugDiaper. http://nanowrimo.org/
 Oh yeah, and on October 29th, I took a train for the first time. 65 miles from home to stay the weekend with some cousins. My cousin Sara got married on Halloween, so most people were in costumes of their choice. I wore a dress and a horse head mask, my cousin wore a wedding dress handmade with 100% pure silk by her grandma-in-law, and her husband was the 13th doctor from Doctor Who. It was fun. Later, at the after party, we played a Mario Kart game and a hilarious (though, rather inappropriate) card game of Superfight. Everybody else but me drank mixtures of hard liquor, mostly vodka and juice.
  I'm not a fan of hard liquor. I've never been drunk, and never plan on it, either. I'm more of a red wine or ginger beer kind of simple gal. And I rarely drink, especially now that I'm on allergy medicine twice a day.
 Other than that, nothing much new other than a little bit of health problems. A week before I went I on my train trip, I had a sinus infection. I got better just in time for the trip, but I had a little bit of allergies during and afterwards because both places were a bit dusty. And since I didn't have much sleep (3 1/2 hours of sleep on the first train trip), my body's resistance went down, so now I think I have a cold, passed over to me from my 2-year old cousin. It doesn't feel like a sinus infection, so I'm sure it's a cold. I've been feeling crummy for the past few days, and my nose has felt like it's been stuffed with a wet sock. Fortunately, today I'm starting to feel better, thanks to chicken noodle soup and a few drops of oregano oil in a high vitamin C juice mixture.
 Usually when I have a cold, I feel too fatigued and miserable to write, but thankfully that's not the case this time.
 You can keep track of my word count each day (or hour, especially in the evening and night when I usually write, as I like updating it frequently) via the NaNoWriMo website or on here.

*November 2nd: 166 words total
November 3rd: 1,330 words total
November 4th: 1,484 words total
November 5th: 3,714 words total

26,094 (very beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 189,680 + 3,714 (NaNoWriMo total) = 193,394 (absolute total)

Maybe to give me more time to write, I'll do these calculations in threes. Which means less blogging. I'd hate to do that, but it would make it more fun to see in threes. Unless you like seeing math problems all the time. Lol. If you want to see more updated, daily word count totals, you can see them here: http://nanowrimo.org/participants/slugdiaper/novels/g4-o-title-abbreviated-i-can-t-reveal-it-on-nanowrimo-spoilers-this-is-the-4th-book-in-an-unpublished-series/stats

P.S. Here's a selfie of me wearing the mask at the wedding:

And the Doctor Who themed wedding cake:

And my cat this morning: 

I was starting to make the bed and was about to pull back the brown blanket when I saw this! She was underneath it! I let her sleep. Minutes later, she was still asleep when my mom got home, despite the noise. Only when my mom went in the bedroom to reset my sister's clock for daylight savings time did she finally wake up. Here's a video I took. Oh, and my voice sounds weird and nasally because I have a cold, as you may remember: https://youtu.be/8xDzIOacc4I 

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 *Edit: At first, I couldn't find the place on the NaNoWriMo website where I wrote on November 2nd. I could have sworn I did write on that day, but for some reason the graph wasn't showing it. I later found it.

  I can't remember the original reason why I delayed posting here, but it's mainly because I've been too tired and didn't feel like posting here. It just takes extra time to type here. But really, I don't *have* to say much of anything here. I just feel obligated to. It's a blog after all. Aren't blogs supposed to be fun to read?
  ...Wait. I remember why! I can't believe I forgot to mention it here. I've been running errands lately because my mom had some blood and mucous, along with lower abdominal cramping, went to the ER and found out she has cysts on her right ovaries and "likely polyps" in her colon. They highly suggested her to have a colonoscopy, so she's going to have one on November 29th. Due to her pain, she had to stay home with a heating pad while I ran errands. I don't have a drivers' license due to my own health issues, as you already know, so grocery shopping involved pushing a cart home (one of the times was with our own plastic shopping cart, but one of the double wheels broke off a long time ago. I was sore for a few days after I tried not lift that side up all the way home (to reduce the change of breaking the last wheel in that corner), while pushing it home.
 So, yeah. And then it was worrying about my mom, because it's the fear that she has colon cancer. Her dad, my grandpa, died from colon cancer. Well, he had a heart attack and died, but he also had untreated colon cancer, so it could have been caused by the cancer. He didn't want to tell his family. He didn't want to treat it and leave his family with having to pay huge bills after his death. And my mom likely will want to follow his footsteps. She thinks that low of herself. She's said she'd rather live on the street than live in a retirement center, and she's not saving any money for retirement. It's a huge frustration on my part, because she's lived through some serious stuff, and I don't like seeing bad things happen to people. I'm sensitive to that thanks to watching her get physically abused and seeing other bad things happen. It's things kids should never, ever see.
 Anyway, I don't want to talk anymore about it. It's too dark. It's too stressful. I don't want you to worry about it. This is why I've been loathe to go on here and blog to you guys.
 It's where I open my mind and don't have to worry about my family and friends commenting on it on Facebook. But I'm not asking for anybody's help. Nobody can help me. People's comments of "I'm sorry hon" and words of encouragement are just words. I read it, and it doesn't improve my situation. They're words meant to hamper fear, but since they're not words that give solutions, I feel more fear because it means I'm alone. Since I was a kid, I learned the hard thing about life: Those who say "everything's okay" is not feeling okay. Those who say "I'm sorry" for your bad situation is distancing themselves from you and basically saying "don't ask me for advice, I'm not going to do anything because that's your life and this one's mine".
 Adults couldn't be trusted to tell me the truth when I was a kid. But they didn't realize that I always saw something and heard something there: I saw the clues that something was wrong. And the fear of not knowing was the worst thing. The fear of the unknown is like being afraid of the dark when you hear scary noises, because there could be something there, but you can't see what it is.
 I'm stopping here. I need to write, and I'm just in a depressed mood at the moment. Later I'll be in a better mood, read all this, and regret it. My cat has even sensed my heavy heart, as she's sitting on the table in between me and my laptop right now (black cat on the right):

 She's a sweetheart.

 Anyway, here's what I've been writing. I've made it a goal to write at least one word each day, just as long as I'm writing every day.

Month, Day: Total

November 6th: 5,477
November 7th: 6,461
November 8th: 7,417
November 9th: 7,434
November 10th: 7,474
November 11th: 7,475
November 12th: 7,504
November 13th: 11,695
November 14th: 13,311
November 15th: 13,669
November 16th: 13,741
November 17th: 14,044
November 18th: 14,048

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November 19th: 16,482
November 20th: 17,737

 I've been getting myself confused here. I forgot to add a couple of scenes. Minor, but important. But yeah, I foresaw this. Getting confused. I knew I'd get to this point about a month or two ago. It's just because I've reached that point where I have to join two pieces of writing together, which were written over a year apart.
 It's like holding two long tiny chains in each hand as though wanting to join them together. But! knowing you have some individual links that fell off the longest link a long time ago, due to being lazy and doing a sloppy job in the beginning, you look up and sigh as you put down the two links, not ready for a delicate challenge. Unfortunately, since you were impatient and didn't feel ready to do some hard work again, your sigh blew away a couple of links. You look down and suddenly realize with dread that you lost some and didn't know where they went because you weren't paying attention, so you look around until you find them. Once they're all together, you try to be more careful with your work and focus harder so you don't mess up again.
 Remembering what is supposed to happen both is and isn't the problem. It isn't, because I basically already wrote the scenes and events that are to follow. It is, because when I get nervous or panic (or both), I have difficulty thinking and have trouble with my memory. (I was especially that way when I was being abused, but we won't focus on that.) And when I was getting out of writing the simple, incomplete sentence summary part, I was starting to make slightly more complete sentences in addition to skipping over some scenes, as well as vice versa. And the parts where I didn't quite make complete sentences, I now have to make them make more sense.
 I'm not sure if you understood my metaphor about the chains and links, but that's what's happening with me and my writing. From now on, there probably won't be much of a word count.
 To put it in a different way from the chains and links bit, I need to sew rags together to join two halves of blankets together. ...Uh, I don't know why I need rags to do that! Hahahaha! Maybe the blanket halves are crooked and I don't want to cut the excess fabric on them because it'd make the entire blanket smaller than it's supposed to be. There we go! Now it's making more sense! Though, you're probably reading this with a funny face right now. My family doesn't understand me either. That's why I write. Also why I've made a few characters talk this way. Because they're somehow able to explain themselves better to others than me. Or that others don't judge them and think they're weird.
 If you still don't understand my meaning, I'm sorry. In real life, I'm a worse communicator than this. I'm bad at talking because I have difficulty thinking. I have difficulty thinking because my brain is literally slow at processing thoughts. Even simple thoughts. I used to be much slower when I was a kid. I was called a retard by kids all the time. I was so stupid back then (4th - 6th grade), I didn't even know what retard meant! I just thought "retard" meant "stupid, hyper weirdo" or something. And the thing about my thoughts that makes me even slower is when I, most all the time, pressure myself to think as fast as I can. It works when I'm working and making sure I get things done and not forget things, but when I'm talking to coworkers, friends, and family? (Especially those I know.) I'm often overwhelmed by how quickly others think and talk, that I'm left out in the cold waiting for an opportunity to speak.
 There aren't many pauses or gaps in people's conversations, let me tell you. And I'm not one to interrupt people. I don't like seeming rude and brusque. I want to be seen as polite and automatically deserving respect, just as anybody should be treated: Fairly.
 From time to time, I do interrupt people, and it makes me feel bad, but it's usually when I feel that what I want to say is important and should be heard. Sometimes it's just a phase, when I'm tired of being interrupted and talked over and ignored all the time. No gaps in people's conversations when I really want to talk frustrates me. Sometimes, that frustration leads into impatience and turns me into a rhino with a long horn (interrupting tongue). Oh, did my horn push you to the side? Sorry. I can't help I exist. (I have to be heard, too, right? We all deserve a chance to speak. I'm not a robot.) Sometimes I've done that to more important people. I've wondered why I do that, and I think on a psychological standpoint, I guess it's because I'm afraid of being treated like I'm just a slave. Just their robot. Just a peasant who shouldn't be respected just because of their low status. I guess what I'm trying to say is: I'm afraid of being treated like poop. I was abused by adults (the important people, compared to me, a kid at the time), and they treated me like I was a useless animal. And seeing how my mom has been treated by previous bosses, employers, managers, higher-status coworkers, etc., I want to make sure that doesn't happen to me, too. Because I'm afraid of letting others go too far and get comfortable and then think they can get mad at me and try to beat me down when I least expect it.
 My aunt, being a bipolar (P.S. I'm friends with two people with bipolar disorder, so I have nothing against those suffering from it) nurse who worked in an adult psych ward in various hospitals for several years, was strange in that she'd get angry for even the littlest things, especially when I let my guard down. If I wasn't silent or if I was having any sort of fun, she'd find ways to shut me up and make me shut down.
 I don't want to think of any examples. I just want to move on and forget it all happened.
 I have to take a quick shower and get to bed now. I could spend all night talking to you, but it's 3:18 AM, and I have work tomorrow. I did alright getting 8 hours of sleep this weekend, but tonight I'll have approximately 4. *sighs* I originally wanted to make this post short, but maybe you'll appreciate the information I spilled out on you. I was feeling too restless and uncomfortable to get ready yet, anyhow. But then, that's often been my excuse for getting very little sleep, and I need to fix it by forcing myself to get off the computer and do what I need to do.
 Stupid anxiety, taking over my life. I need to pick up my sword and start fighting it for once.

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November 21st: 17,743

It's not midnight yet, but I'm heading to bed early. Last night, after showering, it took me hours to fall asleep. It's happened to me a few times before, but it was still agonizing. I was desperate almost to the point of crying to fall asleep, but my body just wasn't listening to me. My mom's alarm clock went off at 5:00 AM, so it was another hour or so until I finally fell asleep. My cat, Sweetie, wasn't faring well with it either. She's in heat (Yes, once I save enough money, I'll have her spayed), so it was bad for her, too. She waits for me to go to bed to go to bed because I'm her bed. (Say that ten times fast!) She sleeps on my legs, and she won't sleep long knowing I'm still awake. Poor little girl. I can always tell when she is super tired. She doesn't get bags under her eyes, but her eyes get slightly droopy and the outlines of her eyelids get tight, especially her lower eyelids. Just a few minutes ago, she was having difficulty staying awake in my lap, and she looked like this (I took these pictures a few minutes ago):

I look as bad, but not as cute, so I'm not sharing you my ugly selfies. No. Really. I have an acne problem right now. I recently saw a dermatologist, so I've been trying out a cream to help bring down the acne. It's two different kinds of acne, so I need to use two different kinds of cream. For some reason, my local store pharmacy didn't have the other one until today.
 My face will hopefully improve in two months. I'm tired of looking like the surface of Io. ...No, that moon looks worse (and gross). Maybe that should be labelled as zombie skin.
Whatever. I need to stop writing and get to bed before Sweetie releases a death rattle on me.
😖 <-- Oh! I didn't know I could make these on this blog! Cool! 😃

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November 23: 17,941

 Yeah, I broke that daily writing streak. Sorry. I just couldn't write on November 22nd. I was going through a short bit of anxiety that day. No doubt it was mostly because I only had 2 hours of sleep, but I also couldn't get my thoughts together as to what to do next.
 I was stuck with a hard decision: What to do first? Go back and write the missing scenes, or continue and carefully incorporate (partially write, partially keep what was already written, and partially rewrite whatever scenes don't work out [while being careful not to do that too much]) where I just left off?
 Anyway, I'm getting a better and more sure idea of what to do first: I'll keep going until the two frayed ends are woven together, then I'll go back and write those missing scenes. Because I see it now: I became indecisive when I realized I missed those scenes. The guilt of leaving those friends behind (figuratively speaking) made me screech to a halt and spin out in all directions. I've started to reorient myself, so once I get back in the right direction again, I'll be heading on my way.
 Unless November 23rd was going into progress? I can't remember much of yesterday. I had a little less sleep last night because I went to bed at [I think?] 2 AM, and got up for about 15 minutes this morning at 6 AM to watch the Thanksgiving parade (Yep, that's today. Happy Thanksgiving! Even though some of you don't live in the United States, I wish you a happy and safe day/weekend/rest-of-your-life. <-- I didn't want to keep it just to one day, then I didn't want it to be just a weekend. Hahaha!
 I also have some difficulty remembering yesterday because I had a long, complex, realistic dream this morning before I woke up. I was having some kind of family reunion, and I was meeting distant cousins for the first time. Although I can not exactly remember much of the dream now, it had to do with me seeing a threat and giving warning to one of my cousins, saving his life several times. In return, when I was in danger, he rescued me. Even though he was such a distant cousin, there was something that I still didn't want to do, just because he was family: It was hard not to be attracted to him and fall in love with him. I kept thinking of his personality and personal qualities, and how he was... um... hot. I've never felt this way about a family member, so this was very strange to me. And I don't normally think this type of thing (guys, relationships, etc.), let alone use that word, believe me. I've barely been attracted to any guy.
 Since I went through traumatic things when I was a kid (abusive men), I have had trust issues. It started with me being afraid of men for many years. Boys I wasn't afraid of at all. I can't say I acted normally around them, though. I used to freak them out by being hyper and weird all the time (It was fun giggling and snorting on purpose as I chased them around at recess and in between classrooms in Elementary school. Their reactions and faces were funny when they ran away from me, and that's why it took me so long for me to learn the meaning of "retard". I thought the word meant something like "hyper weirdo".). Anyway, after I grew out of my fear of men, I still didn't trust them. With good reason, too: I hear of men cheating on women all the time. Sure, it's often the other way around, but I used to watch a lot of Divorce Court (a TV show that had a divorce judge finding out why one or both in a couple wanted to divorce), and the majority was that men couldn't keep their thing in their pants and their eyes away from other women. Then, in high school and beyond, I've had so many friends who've broken up, and I shake my head at the thought and say, "No, I can't risk going through that. I have a sensitive heart, easy to hurt, and I've already been hurt by adults when I was a kid. I'm a one-time love. A swan mates for life: If its partner dies or goes away, that's it. It's done. The swan never finds another mate ever again. Therefore, I am a swan. But a scared swan. If I ever feel loved, if I ever learn the feeling of the opposite of alone, I would never be myself again. A part of me would be torn out of me. I want to be whole. I want to be preserved. I want to be left alone. I'd rather make myself feel happy and find satisfaction in life in what I do rather than depend on others. Like some needy puppy. I already had to watch my pathetic mom not be able to stand it anymore, seeking for a mate again like an animal in heat. I already had to watch my mom look lost and confused by herself. Like she lost something but can't remember what it was and where to look for it. She never was able to find it. She tried several times. She still has hope of finding it one day, but I have a strong gut feeling that she never will find it again. I'm relieved she isn't actively seeking, being too busy for a relationship, and being more careful than she was before. But yeah, I've never actively sought for a relationship, myself. I'm never planning on it, either. I'm staying in my comfort zone, and it only takes a look and a short sentence to make a man afraid of me and grow silent. I'm glad I'm ugly, too. You can't convince me from saying I'm not a hot chick, as I don't feel very bad about it. Sure, I wish my acne wasn't so bad and that my smile didn't look so much like I'm baring my teeth, but overall I'm happy with my looks. Many women are so uncomfortable with themselves these days, they compare themselves to others and strive for being thin, hiding their face with caked-on heavy makeup, and wearing clothes from the latest fashions. That's because they can't find satisfaction within themselves. Until they do, they will forever be in that vicious circle of changing their looks, constantly seeking to be perfect enough to be noticed by others and loved. No one likes to be invisible. No one does. I wish I could hug all of them and say they are beautiful and that I care about them, even though I've never met them, nor heard of them.
 *wipes away tears* Pardon, I got side-tracked. ...But I suppose some of you need an explanation to my sign of emotion. Needless to say... I once felt invisible to the entire world. Nobody should ever have gone through constant isolation like I did in my bedroom at my aunt's house, but the one thing I had to do to comfort myself out of my depression and extend my sanity was to open my mind to the entire world.
 Doing that was scary and overwhelming, like a sort of spiritual meditation, I suppose. I imagined myself surrounded by billions of people living their lives around me, oblivious to what I was going through. Although that gave me a deeper sense of loneliness and helplessness at first, my personal emotions quickly turned off and it was silent where I was, while the rest of the world, wherever there was a person, there were emotions, thoughts, and voices. And everywhere there were people, there were also situations. Some were okay and safe. Others were afraid and in various terrible situations: Witnessing terrifying things, car accidents, people or animals getting hurt. Them being so scared, they're all screaming, crying, or both. Then there were lonely people, angry people, sad people, even people in similar situations as me. It was then I realized I was not alone. I was never alone. Someone out there is still living in isolation and abuse, and I'm simply having my turn of peace. Whatever peace is. The world is an ever-moving, flowing, unpredictable ocean. Anything can happen anytime, anywhere, anyway, anyhow. There are all kinds of possibilities in everything that happens. And when things don't happen, other things are always happening.
 When I became conscious of the screams and crying and other terrible things happening all around me, all around the world, I realized the world was a terrible place. You hear all the time of bad things happening in the news, and there are far more things that are not reported. If the news was on 24/7 with no commercial and just reported bad things happening, not even all the channels on TV would cover everything. The world has always been bad, but the more people there are, the more bad things happen. It's just due to hardship from the constant competition of daily life. City people in traffic are more compulsive and competitive than people on empty roads in small towns. And when people can't stand it anymore, they break and don't make good decisions. It's just the way it is. When I realized that, only then did I finally calm down. Because at first, I was overwhelmed and was so dismayed at seeing the world so corrupt, I thought it was close to the end of the world. Thing is, we don't know when the end is, and neither should we. Can you imagine how much worse the world would act if everybody knew when the world would end?
 Once I was calm, I finally looked at the entire world as just an ever-moving, flowing, unpredictable ocean.
The world was the world. It was what it was. I was just one person. I can't change the world. The world would be the world the way it wanted, and there was no stopping it. Sure, you can talk to a lot of people, and you can slow them down, but they will still forget or think it's okay to do the wrong thing a little bit. They'll do the wrong things again and again until they give up doing the right thing and just do what they want. Thing is, they're used to memorizing information more than their meanings.
 It starts in school. They memorize information in their minds for tests, but they don't memorize the importance in their hearts.
 ...Okay. That was a coincidence. Just now, my mom told me she was going to have a "tiny bit" of sweet potato. She can't eat it because she's going to have a colonoscopy on Tuesday. I told her what I wrote two paragraphs ago, and she argued that it was "just a tiny bit" and that she didn't think it would affect the procedure. Another reason why I don't believe I can change the world. I can't even change one person. Although my mom is a very stubborn person, other people can be stubborn in some way, too.
 Anyway, after school, people live as adults and work at their jobs. Information changes all the time, some more than others, but there is always new information and new things to learn. Taxes, laws, money, paperwork, rules, etc. And when people are busy enough, running errands and otherwise living life at a fast pace enough to not have time to care for anything outside their own lives and what concerns them and those they know, eventually they lose their inner sight of the meaning of things. There may be moments where they will wonder what is the meaning of life.
 My answer: The meaning of life is meaning, not information. People are so used to information, they expect the answer to the meaning of that kind of question is information, but they will not find it that way. The answer is meaning, and they will find it in themselves. What they feel, what they will understand inside their hearts when they see the world as a whole as I did.
 The meaning of life can not be put into words, it can only be understood.

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November 24th: 18,272

It's 2:04 AM, Friday, November 25th. The book is now joined. O__o

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 Last night (or rather, 2:04 this morning), I was going to finish spreading out the G4:O files (because the majority of the writing was in one file, and it takes a long time for a large file to load), but my laptop was having charging issues. It happens a lot. I'll be using the laptop while it's charging, and then the lights will start blinking on and off. Then a notification pops up saying I have only a certain percentage of power left, as though it wasn't charging, even though the charger is plugged in. Some odd months ago, I had that problem, only worse. It wasn't charging at all. I called customer service, and they said it was either the battery or the charger or both. I followed their steps and did a hard refresh, which killed the battery completely. I bought a new one, but ever since I bought it, I have still had trouble charging it, so it might be the charger. *sighs*
 Anyway, I shut the lid last night and charged it, keeping it asleep because I decided to keep myself logged in more often, rather than log off every night. It doesn't make sense to do that anyway because nobody else uses my laptop, and I rarely take it places outside home.
 So, that's why the 2:04 AM post left you hanging wondering what in the world I was talking about.
 Now for the great news: I finished joining the documents together. The writing part (weaving together the frayed ends) and the dividing of the documents. Each document has approximately 100 pages, depending on where the end of a chapter is.
 They are as follows:

Document 1:
97 pages, 53,275 words
Document 2:
99 pages, 62,715 words
Document 3:
102 pages, 59,561 words
Document 4:
54 pages, 32,586 words

Total page count: 352 pages
Total word count: 208,137 words

 Since Document 4 isn't full at 100 pages, I'll be calculating the first 3 documents + Document 4 = total word count from now on. Oh, and what am I going to do with NaNoWriMo, you wonder? Well, I won't be authenticating my word count, but what I will do is just subtract 208,137 or an individual document word count from the total word count I'll be doing each day up until the very end of November (one minute before midnight).
 However, on November 29th and 30th, I'll be busy taking care of my mom after her colonoscopy. I don't know what the doctors will find in her colon, so I don't know how busy I'll be (a.k.a. I don't know if I'll be writing at all during those days). I'm hoping it isn't anything bad like a large polyp or a tumor, where she'll need surgery or anything more than a colonoscopy. Since her dad had colon cancer, and she seems to have no muscle tone down there (she doesn't have to push to go "number 2". Everything just comes out on its own, often leading her to have an accident.), it's worrisome. So, please keep her in your hopes and prayers. Thank you.

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November 25th: Document 1: 53,796
NaNoWriMo word count: 20,013

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November 26th: Document 1: 53,883
NaNoWriMo word count: 21,335

Onto Document 2! ...Yeah, I got carried away reading and couldn't stop afterwards. I've taken note of all I need to fix and add in (the missing scenes) later on. I might even do that tomorrow. Not sure. Right now, I feel unpredictable. I might any day force myself to stop reading (and editing a little here and there while I read), and fix those spots, but for now it looks like I'm reading onward. Oh well! *shrugs*

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November 27th: Document 2: *Eh?
NaNoWriMo word count: 23,464

*Yeah, I got myself confused with the two word counts. I wrote this down on a piece of paper. I'll figure it out later:

Doc 2:
62,715
63,662
63,700
64,836
64,864
64,957 (last night's earlimorn of this day, which is not over yet, 11/29/16)

Several of these were in one day, so that's why I have to figure it out later.

The NaNoWriMo word count is already recorded, so I'll use those to help me figure out my math problem.

November 28th: Document 2: jkgw9e8r6397er3wo689fije64g (gibberish for now)
NaNoWriMo word count: 23,475

At least I can trust NaNoWriMo with my word count. Hahaha. But it's a pity I can't use it year long. Once the end of the NaNoWriMo challenge comes, then I'm not able to add to my word count and see their wonderful graphs. 😞
I'm a visual kind of person. I like seeing projects from different perspectives when I'm working on them. It makes me feel like I'm actually doing something. And when I see not much has been written, I give myself a push and bump up the wordcount to see how far up it will go. Take a look for yourself!

Up, level, up, level, up, level, up, level. The graph looks like stairs. I guess that's how I write. It's cool to see it, and that's why I love NaNoWriMo. I've tried doing my word count on Plotly, but I can only have one graph. If I want to make more, I have to pay money. Nobody likes paying a bunch of bills, so I'm not paying to make more. What I could do is make one graph, download or make a screenshot of it, delete it and make a new one. But I won't pay for anything I don't professionally need for a job. A writer's life is like a hobby until you get published. I like thinking a writer is someone who just writes and isn't published, and an author is someone who writes and is published. It just doesn't feel right calling myself an author. I'm just a writer. I'm not ready to publish. I just write, so I'm a writer.
Anyway, if any of you happen to know of a good website you can make graphs on that doesn't cost anything, feel free to comment below. I'd love to try it out.
Oh, and about my mom's colonoscopy? She had an allergic reaction to the laxative, so she has to reschedule the operation. She drank two glasses of the laxative last night, but then an itchy rash appeared underneath her ear and an itchy bump underneath her armpit, an itchy bump on her head, and a small feeling of tightness in her throat. Since the pharmacy label said to call the doctor if those signs of allergic reaction appear, she stopped drinking it and called the doctor. She cancelled the appointment, and she plans on doing a home colonoscopy test the clinic can send her in the mail instead. And if the test says she has something in her colon, she wants to have a colonoscopy in the summer. I don't like the prospect of her waiting that long, but I'll try to convince her to do it earlier than that.
 I can understand why she wants to wait, though. Our weather gets nasty in the winter. Always rainy, cold (It's mild here compared to other places, but it feels cold to us when it hits the lower 50s.), and constantly cloudy.
 She's feeling better now, but she didn't have much sleep all last night. She finally stopped having accidents at 6 AM. I slept through all of it, having been used her getting ready to work at 5 AM.
 I lost my train of thought at the moment. My mom and sister are talking (they have loud voices), and I often get distracted. Time to put on headphones and listen to music! (My writing music playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqOSidSfqbI&list=PLF07Q8clXG4QwU-dVaKRxG_ZeIP1PKryn)

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Okay, I figured it out, now. Seems I got the numbers wrong when I was calculating the two word counts, just as I thought.

Corrections:

November 27th: Document 2: 63,700
NaNoWriMo word count: 24,449

November 28th: Document 2: 64,864
NaNoWriMo word count: 25,613

November 29th: Document 2: 65,415
NaNoWriMo word count: 26,164

Although November 29th is not over yet, I'm putting it here anyway because I just got done with Document 2. Onto Document 3! 😃

1.

2.

 I'm better at figuring out math problems on paper and calculator. And those weird zig-zag marks are my way of adding or subtracting numbers together without taking up space on paper and "showing my work". I just wanted to make lists right where I want them and yet make something that will remind me how I came up with those numbers, so I made this method in high school. It wasn't what my teachers wanted me to do, but it worked for me. I'm not good at math, yet I come up with my own system. Whatever works, right?
 So, what you see here in 2. is me subracting 62,715 with everything below it, because that's the word count that Document 2 was originally. The bigger numbers below it were the times/days I was writing and editing/writing more to it. After subracting, each resulting number was then added to 23,464, which was the word count before I started working on Document 1. Now that I've finished Document 2, the same method can be done while I'm writing Document 3. ...At least, until the end of tomorrow. NaNoWriMo officially ends at 11:59 PM on November 30th, so after that's over, I don't have to worry about calculating two word counts. NaNoWriMo is just a challenge to see how much I can write in a month. So far, I've only missed two days of writing (If I don't write a single word tomorrow, that will make 3 days, but I'll try to keep that from happening by writing a little past midnight tonight.).

 Oh, and I must not forget the corrected NaNoWriMo graph:

NOW, onto Document 3!

...Here's the total word count of Document 3 on November 29th:
November 29th: Document 3: 59,610
NaNoWriMo word count: 26,213

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November 30th: Document 3: 60,309
NaNoWriMo word count (final): 26,912

 Woohoo! I did it! ...I mean, I didn't make it to 50,000 words, but I made it past halfway, which was my personal goal. I didn't want to share it with you in case I humiliated myself by writing well-below 25,000 words. After I hit 25,000, I forgot to mention it to you because time was running out, I forgot, and I wanted to see how far I'd get in the end. But I wasn't seriously planning on sharing it with you, knowing I'd still be happy anyway.

June 2016

 Phew. I'm so glad that's all over. Well, except for when I visit with an aunt and several cousins this weekend.
What am I talking about, you ask? Birthdays. It might have not been a great idea to carry out old, dusty, moldy furniture out of my bedroom and organize everything into plastic containers, but I really wanted to do it before the birthday parties just in case anybody poked their heads in the bedroom and saw the pile of clothes and junk everywhere.
 I don't like being judged for my messes, as you can tell. I like having a clean, organized home when I have people over, even when they're not my own guests. If I live under a roof, I'm fully capable of helping my family clean things up. Unfortunately, my family doesn't have as much of the same preference that I do. They throw their junk and shoes anywhere they like when they feel tired or lazy, which is basically all the time. What drives me crazy the most is when they make high traffic areas an obstacle course, most commonly with their shoes.
 Personally, I don't enjoy watching other people get hurt. I watched enough of that when I was little. And I don't like feeling that rush of adrenaline, sudden anxiety, and fear of being unable to get my footing and that I'm about to fall down. I'm not accident-prone, nor do I have a knack for falling down, but I do remember what it's like to live with both problems (I was a clumsy kid and later learned to avoid bumps, bruises, and scrapes by being too slow. Once puberty hit, I got clumsy again and often bruised my then-wider hips, so I had to re-learn my old method.).
 So, I've grown into a hyper-self-aware, alert, and perhaps over-careful, individual. Since I don't like disasters (and watching disaster movies, a.k.a. horrible-things-happening-and-everything-going-wrong-throughout-the-movie "comedies"), I sometimes can't stand it anymore and get frustrated when I accidentally kick or trip on something. But I do nothing more than "Agh!" and "Argh!" like a human-wookie crossbreed, shove things over to the side, and growl a sentence or two of my extremely-wanted request to "Can we please just...!" and "That way, nobody has to trip and smash their face on anything!"
 I don't like being angry. It's not a good feeling, and it definitely doesn't feel good. Many people like the feeling because it gives them a [false] sense of power, simply because they see others cower down, give them fearful looks, and obey them. But it always feels empty in the end, like it was stupid to throw a fit in the first place. Some people are blind to that realization, however. They simply think and act by the motion of emotion. It's basically like stimming when you have autism, which is what my brother has.
 For example, when he doesn't want to do something, like following the rules: His simpleminded thoughts are, when asked to turn down his headphones in a public place: "I WANT to listen to my music on my headphones!" His feelings: Stubbornness; "I want what I want"; "I don't WANT to give it up!"; "But I'm having too much fun, and I refuse to give it up!"; "I just started, so I'm not going to listen to you." (regardless of the actual time duration, even long periods of time feel like a few minutes. It's kind of like sleep, where they lose touch with reality and when they block things out due to stress.); and "I feel too comfortable to leave my comfort zone."
 I have a character that basically represents anger. Mind you, it's very different from that new Disney/Pixar movie, um.... What's it called again? (I haven't watched it, yet, but I know as a matter of fact that he's not like my character.) *looks it up* Inside Out. Anyway, the character is nothing near like him. And yes, I'll be watching it soon. I bought the DVD for my sister's birthday. She'll want me to watch it with her just as much as how one of my best friends wants me to watch it.
 Does this mean that I have other characters that represent emotions? ...More or less. Yes and no. Maybe and sort of. It's a long story to explain how my story world works. It would probably take me about 30 minutes up to an hour to go over just enough to explain that one single thing, just to answer that question.

4,011 words total (separate document)
1:30 AM
June 15th

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Well, my sister caught a 24-hour flu bug this morning. Just a bad headache, nausea, and little upchucking this morning. I wasn't sure whether it was the chicken teriyaki I got her yesterday, but I didn't want to risk going to work today because:
 1. She can't really take care of herself or know what to do because of her autism. For instance, I had to give her water because she was dry heaving.
2. Since I ate a ton of sushi and chicken yakisoba from the same restaurant, I didn't want to risk hurling all over books, toys, and people. (Yes, there are toys in libraries. You didn't know that? Pick yourself up and go to your nearest public library, unless you live many miles away from it. Also, many people still think that librarians are cranky old ladies whose only form of communication is shushing. Another thing that many people still think is that libraries are boring and full of books. Good grief. It's the 21st century! Libraries also have DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, free internet access on computers, WiFi, laptops, iPads, and fun events going on each month. The toys are in the play areas and a bunch of other ones are played with during Storytime. If I've mentioned this before and I don't remember, it's probably because I tend to write in this blog when it's late at night. My apologies. I have no clue how many people are actually reading my blog. Whenever I look at the Google Analytics (a feature that shows me how many people in each country and at each approximate time that people look at my blog and blog posts), I just figure that most people take at glance at this blog and move on. I mainly write in here as a sort of diary and writing log, only thinking that at least one person I know in real life is reading it. I don't feel bad if nobody is actually reading it. Personally, it reminds me of looking through a calendar at the end of the year, or looking through an old calendar from several years ago: You see what exciting things you did on certain days. I guess not all people do this [and, in fact, I admit to not doing this as much as I used to], but I once wrote the details of what happened each day at the end of each day noteworthy. For example, if I went to Wild Waves and Enchanted Village [a theme park I used to go to often with my aunt], I'd mention things like: "I got a big ice cream cone!" or [At Fright Fest near Halloween, same theme park] "I wore my Scream mask and people liked it!" Some days were bad days and I'd write, "I fell down and sprained my ankle. :'( " Eventually, I didn't write anything on bad days, especially when my aunt would verbally and mentally abuse me. Instead, I'd cross out the day not with a straight X, but with a wavy X, as though it were a drawing of tears running down a person's face. Anyway, at the end of the first year of treating my calendar as a sort of diary, I realized how fun and interesting keeping track of my life really was. This blog is a form of that, with me writing down significant events each day [Well, almost. But I recently decided to change that, as you know.], like a diary. Anyway, back to this list. Lol. I get so sidetracked when writing letters and blogging. Don't worry. I don't write my books like this. I'm more strict on myself with my books. I just ramble, don't judge myself, and feel free and comfortable when I write letters and blog posts.)
3. I forgot the third reason. (If you forgot what the heck I was talking about in this list, scroll up a little to check. I just now had to do that, too. Me = Ramblehead!) Ah, yes. Now I remember. I had 3 hours of sleep last night because I was having too much anxiety and restlessness to get off the computer (I tend to go back and forth between Facebook [I only Friend family and friends I've met and known for a while in real life, save for a rare few people who are the only exceptions.] and Twitter [I'm @Jennifer_Fulk] a gazillion times.). I finally got off the computer late at night, took a shower, and went to bed at past 3 AM. I would have gone to work anyway if it wasn't for my sister getting sick, though, which taking care of her is my top priority and reason when she gets sick. I've gone to work before on 4 hours of sleep. Although I wouldn't recommend it for anyone, half the time this happens, I tend to be wide awake and functional throughout the day until I get home. Maybe I run on adrenaline on those days.... Then again, I run on adrenaline all the time anyway because I prefer to not have to lean on a cane at this age (a.k.a. I refuse to have to depend on caffeine. It's healthier, I'm not getting addicted to anything, and I'm not wrecking my body from the inside). Yeah, it's not healthy to get 4 - 6 hours of sleep each night, but I'm working on a plan to fix that by sheer will. Perfect, structured routines are my worst enemy, thanks to my aunt (Mind you, I have 4 aunts, but that one is remembered by all of the family to be the meanest. Yeah, she was horrible as a kid, too. The type that makes even the parents afraid [and lenient! Worst parenting idea - ever!], which is kind of what created her in the first place.). But I don't use that as an excuse for my self-destructive behavior. It was only last week that I finally figured out what is wrong with me: The procrastination and "fear" of doing anything is the result of the constant rush and anxiety I went through daily. Knowing the need to hurry, but having flashbacks of having to rush to bed and the intense anxiety and fear associated with it, I end up putting it off by doing things that take my mind off of it. But where's the stopping point? There is none. It's a vicious cycle. The only way that I can feel comfortable going to bed is letting myself burn out: When I'm very tired and I'm starting to fall asleep. Unfortunately, that isn't the greatest choice when you have to take a shower as well, especially when you have work in the morning. Instead of saying, "I'm screwed for life", I'm going to try to help myself the best I can. I can go through rounds of therapy with some therapist, but therapists don't make much money, and just about anybody can be hired to be one, regardless if you have training or special degrees or not. In the end, it's all depending on me anyway, so I might as well treat myself. It isn't a serious mental condition, I've just got to look inside myself and break a bad habit by fixing my "running-out-of-time-just-before-the-end-of-the-world" panic and anxiety.
 Oh, yeah. And my sister is feeling better now. There's a weird, short-lived flu bug going around. A lot of people at my mom's work have been getting it, a friend who lives nearby got on the same day as my sister, and my little cousin caught a similar one about 70 miles away at the same time, too. I think it's the weather. We've been getting a pattern of cool and warm, cool and warm weather lately. A few days ago, it was cold. Like, in the lower 50s kind of cold. Then it got warm in the upper 60s again. I think that day was to blame for all the people getting it today.
 Something unrelated: If you have access to YouTube, I recommend subscribing to the channel, "50 ducks in a hot tub". Matt, his ducks, and his dog, Dug, are like one big, funny family. You'll know what I mean when you watch several videos. Recently, Matt got a tear in an unfortunate place, so he's going through a lot of pain right now, but he recently got a huge hatch of the cutest, funniest ducklings you'll ever see. Whenever he goes in their barn, their God-sent therapy immediately takes the pain away. It makes me almost cry (and now the tears finally come. *reaches for tissue, because it always annoyingly drains through my nose*), seeing them rushing over to him, crowding around him, and nibbling on his shoes and legs (They're actually grooming him and treating him like he's their mommy or daddy.). He's never had a hatch that behaved like this. He recently decided to lay down among them to see what would happen, and the result was adorable beyond reason.
 Oh, and I forgot to mention: I stayed awake and was on the computer for a bit this morning before I ate a bowl of cereal. My sister was doing better the whole time I was doing those things (an hour or two?), so I decided to go back to bed. I was too tired to go immediately to the store to get her 7Up. I decided to set my cell phone alarms so that I'd get a few more hours of sleep. After all, her loud dry heaves woke me up an hour before I was supposed to wake up. So I had 3 hours of sleep instead of 4. I figured that added 3 more hours would give me 6 hours of sleep total to get by. However, when my alarms went off, I shut them all off while I was half-asleep, deciding that I would sleep for 5 more minutes and wake up on my own (Of course, that never works for most people. It only works for me every once in a while, but not when I'm extremely tired.). Well, let me tell you, I've been feeling utterly exhausted since last Friday. I had to move a load of clothes and belongings into containers, as well as a couple of large bits of furniture in and out of my room that day. The next day, I had to finish up with that project, as well as vacuum, decorate, and otherwise preparing for my sister's birthday party. By the next day, on my birthday, I was utterly spent. But I still had tons of stuff to do. Monday, that next day, I have little memory of. I wasn't too busy, but I guess I was tired enough not to remember how tired I was. Tuesday was terrible. My eyes were heavy and kept going out of focus, and I felt like I was going to fall asleep any minute, all day. Thankfully, I wasn't rushing around. I sat most of the time at work cleaning stuff. On Wednesday, I was unusually wide awake and clear-thinking, but I remember I had 5 hours of sleep, one hour less than the night before. I guess I was running on adrenaline that day. Then... Thursday, today. ...Er, well. Yesterday, that is. It's 2:50 AM, so it's technically Friday right now. Whatever.
 My poor cat is yelling at me with raspy-voiced barks: "Eh!!" "Ow!!" "En!!" She wants me to go to bed, but I want to write. She doesn't realize I don't have to get up early in the morning.
 Agh! I keep wanting to tell you, but I keep on rambling and getting sidetracked! Here, I'll just say it: I slept for 10 hours! That was 3 hours last night, and, when I went back to bed, I accidentally slept for 7 hours (until 4:30-ish PM. My mom coming home and talking with my sister in the living room woke me up). When I woke up, I was a little afraid that it may be because I was going to be sick soon, too, but then I remembered that it was simply because I had been exhausted. I felt more refreshed, more than I have felt in a while, so it all worked out in the end.
 Anyway, it's 3:00 AM. Time to write for a little bit, then I need to go to bed. (But I'm pretty tired, now. I'll decide what to do once I start reading a little bit before where I left off. If I know what to write and my imagination is functioning well, I'll know.) ...No. You know what? I think I'll go to bed. I need to have a time limit, even on weekends. 3 AM, no later. Closing my eyes right now, I know I am too tired. Good night. (I need to start listening to my cat more.... Lol.)

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3:48 AM (Oops. But it's the weekend. Then again, I overworked my body today. I'll be feeling it tomorrow. And sleep in. At least I feel like I wrote enough, though. I haven't gone far very much these past past several months.)
4,289 words total separate document
June 18th

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3:07 AM
4,564 words total in separate document
June 19th

Not much to say. My sister wanted me to watch Zootopia with her and Mom at dinnertime (Dinner was late), then we watched 50 Ducks in a Hot Tub videos late into the night. Oh, and yes. I was sore all day today. I didn't have that much of an appetite, though. My metabolism goes way low on weekends, when I'm not doing anything. I end up eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast, snacks throughout the day, and any-sized dinner. That's about it. Anyways, I am falling asleep as I am typing this, so I bid you a good night.

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Unknown time. Likely around 7:30 PM.
5,267 words total in separate document
June 25th

 Whew! I'm getting closer to where this part of the story will join the main part. What do I mean and how did this happen? Well, I've heard of some writers doing this, and I'm no exception (In fact, I've always been like this! It's rather annoying.): When I start writing a story, I don't know how exactly to begin. I don't know what the first sentence will be, and I don't know what the first few chapters will be like. I have the feel (The mood of the story? It's hard to describe "the feel", putting it in words, but I hope you can understand. It's what writers seek when they sit down in front of the story they're writing. It's kind of like trying to remember how an orchestrated song goes in a movie in a battle scene. It ain't easy to grasp the movement, the flurry, and the excitement, and forcing your own emotions to feel fear as though you're running around fighting an invisible enemy when you're sitting in a chair. I guess another way to describe it is when you have to stop a Star Wars movie in the middle of it, and, the next day, trying to remember what just happened and how you felt during the seconds before where you left off.), ...You know what? I just rambled after four words in a sentence. Redo! (I hate it when I do that.) I have the feel and I know the most important things that will happen, but the imagination runs dry, so I "make a summary" of these most important events so that I can think over them and daydream a little. Fortunately and unfortunately, I get inspired after several sentences or paragraphs. Once I've started, I'm unstoppable. It's a powerful thrill, as though I were reading a good, fast-paced book. The only difference?  I'm not flipping pages like crazy, I'm typing like crazy. I want to know what happens next just as much as a reader.
Soooo, anyway. (I'm getting off-topic and disorganized because I'm falling asleep at the computer again [Yeah. it's 3:29 AM, June 26th.].) That's why and what I'm doing. 39 words turned into 5,267 words so far. *I'll continue this tomorrow. I honestly can't stay awake any longer.

...I'm back. 2:07 PM, June 26th! That purple section above is what I added in just now. I'm in a writing mood, so I rambled. Oops. But I felt the need to explain what I meant by "the feel". Oftentimes people don't understand what I'm saying, other times they're too afraid of asking and looking stupid, so they dismiss it that I'm stupid and ignore me, pretending that I'm invisible. Maybe it's just that I often feel invisible because people don't talk to me much in real life. But I don't blame them. I'm horrible at talking. I stumble over words a lot, I stutter a little, I process thoughts slower than the average person, and when I don't talk fast and stumble over my words, I talk slowly. Autism sucks. And people make assumptions, they think I'm done talking because I also pause in between 1 - 5? words, I get interrupted, etc., etc. I get frustrated with myself when I pause and have something to add to what I say, and then other people talk and change the subject just when I open my mouth again. Do I have to keep my mouth open, or something? Then again, they look away anyway. It's probably not me. Chatty people constantly talk because it feels good on their jaws or something. Maybe they just like competition, and they're not used to being around slow-thinkers. Chatty people do hang with chatty people. That makes sense. They're adapted to thinking fast so they can can jump in and say whatever they want when they want. But I don't like interrupting people because I know how it feels to be interrupted. It's even more awful for me because when I'm interrupted, I instantly forget what I was just saying and what I was about to say. This is why I give up talking altogether. I'm not very talkative, but when I am, it's when people want to talk to me. I like people who are happy to invite others to their conversations. And asking questions. I'm great with answering them. Advice, too. Figuring out how to do something or getting around obstacles? I love doing that. Using odd objects for tools rather than traditional ones? That's often the right way to do them. It's hard for many people to think outside the box, because they're used to a systematic way of doing things (e.g. "following the crowd"). I used to be stupid and couldn't figure out anything, so don't think I'm some genius or something. We all can learn new ways of doing things if we just look around us and think more independently. And being more careful. Slow and easy wins the race.
...But enough about that. I've probably mentioned the same things several times already. I'm too lazy to go back and look, but at least you can learn a little more about me when I put things in different words. And hey, you could be autistic, too. Maybe you didn't understand something I said before, and are understanding it better since I put it a different way this time? The variety in the things that happen in life are endless. Anything can happen, anytime, anywhere, at just the right time, for many reasons we often can not see.
 ^And, no. I don't feel like fixing that ridiculously long "paragraph" right now. I'd rather write [in my story] so I can get closer to the day that I can publish it and bring it to you! The long wait is so worth it! (P.S. I'm horrible at writing letters. This blog comes somewhere between writing a letter and story writing. Half-good, half-bad. When I'm writing my stories, it just comes out so naturally. Grammar, spelling, organization, etc. I think it's because I am passionate and love my stories. Everything else? I let myself be lazy. Kind of like the way I talk, only faster-thinking due to lack of anxiety, and a lot more relaxed. I honestly don't know how many of you read my blog, but I'm okay with it. I feel like I'm talking to a person who happens to be a *very* good listener. Thank you for not interrupting me! Hahaha!
 Okay, time to write! :-D (P.S. I'll post a random picture here very soon. Something funny or me with my cat. Or a sunset, because we've been getting some beautiful ones lately. ...How about all three! You deserve it.)

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68,165 words. Not in G4:O. I had to go back and read the two last chapters of G3:DF, so I couldn't help but fix some grammatical errors and edit some sentences so that they'd make better sense. That book is so long, I had to divide it into 6 separate documents so that I didn't have to wait forever for one file to load to write. So, the last, sixth file, is the one that has 68,165 words in it. I'm just putting it here to remind myself to add it to the G3:DF writing log.
 Why did I have to go back and read the last two chapters of G3:DF, you ask? Well, three reasons: When I initially began G4:O, I didn't know how to begin it, so I summarized it. I knew the most important events, but I just couldn't grasp the feel of the book. Maybe it's because I was excited because I knew when the most exciting events would happen. Yes, that must be it. When I was a kid, I was an impatient reader. I wanted to know what would happen next. I couldn't wait. But it was worse with the ending: I'd flip to the end and read the last one or two paragraphs. Of course, nothing would make sense, but at least I felt calm somehow enough to continue reading the book from where I left off. Perhaps the worst thing was me being so anxious, I'd flip ahead and see if a character is still mentioned. And by that I mean if they were still alive in the chapters or near the end. Terrible, worst thing to do to yourself. If you're an impatient reader, don't do it. Just don't. They don't call them spoilers for nothing. I think I wrecked two books for me like that. Finding out that a character dies prematurely is perhaps more devastating than actually reading their brutal, sad scenes. You end up not wanting to read the book anymore.
Anyway, the second reason is because I had to know where my characters left off in the very beginning. I don't want to say more regarding it, as it would instantly give you too big of hints. I just needed more information so that I could continue off where I just had to stop from.
 The third reason is merely because it's been driving me nuts. Every time I open up my G4:O document to write, I see hints in the beginning of it that condense several chapters into a mere 1 - 3 sentences. And each of these hints are color coded, which organizes them as each an important event, a sub-climax of the story, if you will. Think of a story as having a graph with peaks-- ...Okay, I remembered something in school about this, but I couldn't remember how it was explained. I had to look it up so I could stop feeling like a dummy. This should say it all. And they're called rising actions, not sub-climaxes.

 Anyway, I had the 1 - 3 sentences color-coded so I could organize them as rising actions. Staring at the colors have been annoying me every time I wait for the G4:O file to load, and yes, it's getting close to time that I create a second file to reduce the wait. Almost. I've just got to tackle getting the very beginning written. It shouldn't take long. As long as I get more sleep and don't get so irritable and easily-distracted when my mom and sister get talkative and noisy, I might be able to do it within the week. Chances are, though, I'll have trouble concentrating on and off and will take about 2 weeks to write it. But you never know. Last week, I had a lot of trouble concentrating because I had 4 - 5 hours of sleep each night. This week I'll try to do better and be more strict with myself.

 Today has gone by quite fast. It's already 1:21 AM, so I've got to take a quick shower and smash my face into my pillow. Haha, don't worry. I'm gentle to my pillow. It's made of glass. 

 Just kidding. It's not make of glass, but I once wondered when I was young what it'd be like to have insulation as a pillow. That wouldn't be so great, having tiny splinters of glass embedded in your head. Sorry, don't think of that. It'd be worse if a kid tried to eat it like cotton candy. I more often thought it looked like cotton candy. My mom always used a scared voice to warn me not to touch it. *gasps* "Don't touch it!!" Traumatizing woman. Enough to give anybody anxiety problems. But I don't have them just because of her. You can't possibly imagine what I've been through. Things so bad, you embrace nightmares as good dreams.  Well, no. Actually, my nightmares as a kid were terrible. Many of them would be long-recurring for many years. I don't want to describe the several I still remember, but I'll say this much: They were horrible. 

Nowadays, I remember very few dreams. I didn't say I don't have any, because we all dream several times during our sleep cycle. The other day or yesterday, I had one that was slightly unpleasant, but it didn't last long because I woke up to greet the morning. About 4 or 5 days ago, I had a nightmare of being chased into my grandma's house by realistic, life-sized velociraptors. I had to hide a 7, 8, or 9 year old half brain-dead girl in her white nightgown in the bottom of a weird freezer. I tried to fit myself in, but I was an adult man, so I had to stand around and wait to meet my fate. There was no point in running anymore, so I was ready to face him/her. I knew there was a raptor creeping in from the side of the tiny half living room, but my eye was on the one down the hallway. She walked slowly into view, her large reptilian face looking sideways at me. I was ready to be killed that this one, staring intently into her eye.

 That's when I woke up. I wanted the dream to properly end! Like a story! I *wanted* to be killed by the dinosaur! It's so silly. I was disappointed when I woke up. I was feleing like, "Have at me! I'm not afraid of you! Even if you kill me, I will not be afraid of you!" But I guess I unconsciously made myself wake up because I didn't want to jump out of my sleep. I've had too many dreams like that enough to know when I'm going to jump. Most of them I jump. It's very startling and it takes a lot of energy out of me. I almost feel like screaming away the fear.

And yes, I've sometimes had dreams of being a boy or a man. I think that's why it's been so easy to get into the minds of my male characters. It's quite useful. And fun. One of my favorites as a kid was of one recurring [only twice, though!] being a "jungle boy" in a very green tropical rainforest, and having the ability to leap and glide in the air over lush valleys and from tree to tree. What a breathtaking adventure! The flying sensation was such a thrill. I'll never be able to go zip gliding due to my panic attacks, but that dream was enough for me to feel satisfied. Breathtaking beauty everywhere. Oh, and the dream looked very much like this, just without the guy zip gliding (but imagine gliding through that!):

Okay, now I really need to stop right here. It's 2:06 AM. Good night! (And good day!)
Oh! And I almost forgot! I wrote in G4:O, too!

5,309 words in separate document
10:30 PM? I lost track of what time I stopped because I was trying to multitask.
June 26th

____

 I was just going to go sit and write, but then my brother called. 5 minutes till midnight. Ugh. I hate ending my day like this. Drama, things going wrong, angry and upset people. I bet if his head were cut off above his vocal chords, he'd be expelling more hot air than he'd be gushing blood. ...Sorry, bad mental image. I blame all those weird anti-smoking commercials of the cold turkey talking through its neck. *shudders* It's been several years since I've watched much cable television, so I don't know if those commercials are still around, but I hope not. It really scared me the first time I watched them, and the thought of them still disturbs me and makes me wonder how a turkey would sound without a head. Um... anyway! O_o
 My mom tends to talk loudly and scold him every time he calls. There's always something he's mad about. "I'm gonna' go throw that guy's stuff outside and break it!" Retaliation will get you nowhere, diaperhead. He has a roommate in his adult disability home who has worse mental problems than he does, so the two yell at each other like small children. Not your typical family drama, but it would be funny if it weren't my brother and instead a cartoon. But without all the profanity. Actually, replace bad words with funny, random words and sounds. "You honkety-honkety-honk!" "Your mother is a toilet brush!" Classic, nonsensical, unpredictable comedy. I love that stuff.
 Anyway, I had to wait 15 minutes for that silly phone call to end, then I finally sat down to write (Actually, I was already sitting down, playing Pokemon FireRed on my Nintendo DS. With my headphones on to drown my mom out.). I just got done at 2:25 AM. This chapter I just couldn't stop in the middle of. It required some outer space research, some hard thinking, then writing of some fast-paced stuff happening. Whew. Now for some sleep.

6,015 words in separate document
2:25 AM
June 28th

____

I was starting to have difficulty keeping my eyes open and my head upright, when my cat, Sweetie, must have sensed this or noticed it and jumped down from the chair she was lying on. She rushed over to me with her small, raspy voice snapping at me, "En! En! En!" (By the way, she's getting better at saying my sister's name, Sarah: "Air-eh! Air-eh!" Of course, cats can't make a perfect "S" sound, so she doesn't even try.) She jumped into my lap, pawing at my mouth and chin, purring like crazy, walking all over me, and trying to bite my nose (I tossed my head back and forth, expecting as much. She succeeded once during this struggle.) When I leaned back, because she was crawling all over my chest and getting her furry side in my face, she kept saying, "Oh-ooh-eh? Oh-ooh-eh?" Every once in a while she'll say "Oh-ooh-beh," but not this time. She wants me to go to bed now, without questions. I told her "Wait. Wait.", so now she's coming and going. Reminding me. ...Okay. Now she threw up a few times. She tends to do this late at night when I ignore her. Oh, hello. Now she's in my lap. ...Just to walk across the table to sit in her chair again. Anyway, these are the only times she throws up: When it's late at night and she wants to go to bed, when she has a hairball, and when she is sick. I never knew cats could throw up for reason #1, but I remember many times when I was little when I'd be so tired, I'd feel sick to the stomach. I still get that way when I'm severely sleep-deprived.
 It most recently happened on Monday morning, actually. My mom didn't have her day organized on Sunday, so she ended up doing everything last-minute until she finally took a shower a little past midnight. Since our hot water has to gain back, I had to wait to take mine. Needless to say, I couldn't work on Monday. 3 1/2 hours of sleep is not good for anyone. My eyes were so puffy, I struggled to keep my eyes open. And I had that queasiness that I just described. (She has a plan to take hers on Sunday mornings, now. But since she has the memory superpower that rivals that of a fish's, it won't take her long to forget again. If it does, I'll have to resort to doing it on another day/time. I had such a convenient, well-timed schedule pattern for myself, too. I don't like having to disrupt that just because a dunce keeps jumping off her stool and disrupting my class. ...Metaphorically speaking, of course.
 Okay, time to give this little one her reward for being so patient. *looks over at Sweetie, who looks over at me with sleepy eyes* I feel so horrible when I make her wait. I feel miserable in my own skin, anyway. ...Sorry. I'm sensitive to others' misery, inconvenience, and scolding. I'm just an over-feeling individual who grew up feeling sorry for inanimate objects when she was a kid. (When things broke, I'd wince and feel their "pain". Please tell me I'm not the only one who was this weird as a kid. Actually, I'm still a little like that. Only, it's mainly evolved into me being sensitive to people unnecessarily slamming doors loudly. Loud sounds hurt my ears + I'm afraid of things breaking and people getting hurt. Bad daydreams.)

6,381 words in separate document
2:32? AM (I forgot. Oops! Close enough.)
June 29th

May 2016

3:40 AM
May 1st
161,333 words total

I've been busy with running family errands (Family birthdays are coming up!) and reading a book called New Hope Chronicles: Dragon Flame by Pat Harris. It's a great book so far. It's long, but exciting. If you like Eragon and Star Trek, this might just be your new favorite read: http://amazon.com/New-Hope-Chronicles-Book-One/dp/1481827421/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1462099508&sr=8-1&keywords=new+hope+chronicles
I might have already mentioned it in a previous blog post, but oh well. Things happen, especially when your brain is tired and trying to tell you it's 3:50 AM. Time to sleep!
P.S. I'm trying to read more books because sometimes you get to that moment where you feel your writing is getting a bit dull and boring. Reading seems to help a lot with this. (Of course.)

__

12:57 AM
May 3rd
161,561 words total

It was a hot day today. 86 F. The weather can't make up its mind, though. It's going back and forth between 80-something, 70-something, and 60-something.
I'm terribly sleepy right now, and my cat is sleeping on my lap with my left wrist pinned underneath her, so I think it's time to kiss the waking world goodnight.

__

2:27 AM
May 7th
161,745 words total

I have places to go and things to do tomorrow (I'm taking my sister out to go find something for Mother's Day), but I've been wanting to write all day, so I sacrificed some sleep in order to write a little. I've a cat on my lap that grew impatient and fell asleep. Now I must go sleep. Stay safe this weekend, everyone!

__

1:12 AM
May 11th
161,890 words total

Yep, things don't always go to plan. A lot of things. But when my cat, Sweetie, wakes up my sister tonight letting her know that there's a big house spider behind her on the wall? That makes up for everything wrong that happens. I feel like I'm typing gibberish right now. That's how sleepy I am. But the cat story is true. Sweetie loves finding bugs and letting us know. Or if I find it first, I'll tell her, "Bug! Bug! Sweetie! Bug! Look!" and she'll get excited and sound off her bug alarm: "Eh! Eh! Eh!". Cute little girl.

___

2:31 AM
May 13th
163,383 words total

hard to write this. my cat wants me to go to bed. right now. she's hanging herself on my right arm and purring loudly. every ten seconds she yells at me. she is mad. she bit my nose. she means business. i must stop writing before she turns into a dragon and kills me. good night.

___

2:18 AM
May 14th
163,424

 I can't stay awake. I keep falling asleep. I had to take my sister to the doctor today in 81+ F heat. She's okay. It was just for allergies and an ear cleaning (She has narrow ear canals, which makes it hard for her ears to properly dispose of ear wax.). She ended up taking a nap afterwards, but I didn't because I can hardly ever take a nap during the day.
 Let's just say I'm forever traumatized by a horrible, vivid nightmare I had one time when I took a nap during the day. And yes, it really was traumatizing. Imagine if you're trying to save an old lady from falling down an endless sink hole in a parking lot, and she's hard to reach and hanging by the tips of her fingers. Then you're too afraid of falling in, yourself, so you don't try hard enough and your reaching for her and she falls in. Imagine her screaming. Imagine the overwhelming sense of failure and sheer terror, the feeling that you're at fault for someone's death because you were too afraid to be a real hero. I really felt like it was my fault. I woke up crying for ten minutes that day. It was realistic. I saw her face. Her own terror. It didn't feel like a dream. I felt like it really happened.
 Other things happened in the nightmare, but they were also disturbing. For instance, a leaking propane tank, department store workers that were too calm and ignored me when I told them about the leaking propane tank, and a woman and child buried up to their necks in hardened concrete in a parking space repeatedly crying to me for help.
 I had this nightmare about three years ago, and I still can't nap in the daytime, afraid my dreaming brain will use my overactive imagination and not be able to control its power.
 Anyway, it's 2:43 AM, so I'd better head off to bed, now. Sweetie is sleeping nearby, waiting-- *I sneeze* Nope, not anymore. She was sleeping with her head upside-down, so now she's looking at me upside-down, which is cute.
 Pollen count was very high today and is expected to be the same tomorrow. My allergy medicine works pretty well for me, which is good. It's a pity that most of my family suffers from asthma and allergies. I don't think I have asthma. Maybe I'll try getting tested each year, though. The last time I had bronchitis, I had to use an inhaler (The same kind that my asthmatic mom uses!) because my coughing made it very hard to breathe. I felt like I was breathing through two straws, which, according to my mom, is what it feels like when you're having an asthma attack (Difference: She said a straw.). Since I never want to have asthma that bad or ever have an asthma attack, I'll aim to catch it early.
 Whoops! Look at me! I'm not listening to myself. I'm rambling on instead of going to bed. Now it's 2:59 AM. Oh well. At least it's the weekend and I can sleep in tomorrow.
___

5:03 AM
May 15th
[834 words written - Not total, mind you]

 Yes, for some reason, I'm up past 5 AM. I was watching Youtube video until about 12 or 1 AM, so I was late to writing. But then I was looking at dragon art for a long time until I finally started writing at about 4 AM. I really wanted to write, so I didn't care what time it was. Whoops. Sweetie was so mad that I wasn't going to bed when I had to take a bathroom break and walked right past the bedroom. She jumped into my lap and snapped at me ("Eh!") while she petted my arm to get me to pet her.
 Oh yeah, so what was I writing? Let's just say that whenever I start writing a story, it's more like a summary in as few words as possible (Because I always end up writing the story instead of taking notes on basic, important events.).
 Okay, I'll just tell you: I got tired of seeing a mere sentence in the beginning [of my book's document] that described what happened in two chapters or more, so I figured out how I would write it and started writing it.
 Anyway, I need to head to bed. It's 5:17 AM! (P.S. Remember G3:DF? 4 AM, 5 AM, and 6 AM were common hours that I would stop writing for the night. Those were the good old days. But sort of bad because I'd wake up in the "morning" when there was only a few or so hours left in the day. That was the weirdest feeling: Waking to the sunset or near sunset, when my bedroom would glow orange. It's definitely not something I'd ever do again. It was too weird and bewildering.)

___

1:48 AM
May 16th
[957 words total in side document]
163,643 words total (main document)

Wait, what is this side document, you ask? Well, remember how in the very beginning, when I was first writing this book? How I was summarizing it at first, then slowly began to morph it into the book itself (Thus, the reason why I can never summarize anything?) So, seeing it whenever I open up my book's document, I decided to do something about it once and for all. I'll merge it when I'm done writing it. (It takes a while for the main document to the .)
...Okay, I can't type here anymore! I'm falling asleep and just sleep-typed twice, making me delete a weird sentence ("I decided to write it now because it was a beautiful time." and "I was reading a certain book by t"). Good night, all!

___

1:50 AM
May 17th
1,723 words (side document)

Hello, I'm tired.

___

1:42 AM
May 18th
1,770 words (side document)

Hello again. Tired again.

___


3:39 AM
May 21st
2,474 (side document)

I got a fair amount of writing done, but it could be better.
Sweetie is going to have to stop grooming herself because I want to go t bed now

___

2:16 AM
May 22
2,481 (side document)

[I was so tired, I didn't write anything here, just wrote it down and headed straight to bed.]

---

1:51 AM
May 27th
2,487 (side document)

I've been busy getting ready for three family birthdays that are coming up fast, so it's been hard to find the time, energy, and mental clarity to write lately. Lol. I just wrote six words. Six puny words! Better than nothing? I've been dozing off at the chair several times, so enough is enough. Time to crash.

___

4:08 AM
May 29th
3,444 (side document)

[This area left blank because I was obviously falling asleep and couldn't write another word past 4:08 AM.]

***

 ...Wow. What an uneventful month. I'm sorry this month sucked for you, reading-wise. It didn't occur to me until now that I need to try a different system. As much as I like to say something for only each time I log in my time, date, and word count, it isn't much fun for you. Reading stuff like "I was too tired to write something here" isn't something you had in mind when you came here.
 So, what I'm going to do is write something here as much as I can, regardless of the time. Just telling you how my day went, things new happening, my plans, things I have to do, what I do when I'm not writing, etc.
 I don't have much to say for my current life, so I won't be doing it every single day.
 What's happening right now? I'm sitting in my usual place at the dining table with my feet on the chair (My legs get restless and uncomfortable when I'm sitting normally for a long time), my right leg bent sideways. My coffee-black Siamese-mix cat, Sweetie, is sleeping on it. My black Labrador retriever, Sandy, just got up to drink water behind me. She just finished and is now lying down nearby. I'm contemplating going to bed, but I really want to write. It's 1:37 AM and I really don't want to be tired tomorrow. I have to go to the store to get hand soap, shaver blades, and food.
 On food: Mind you, I eat all the time. No, I'm not fat. I've stayed at the same general weight for many years: 130 - 135 lbs. Muscle weighs more than fat, so that's why using a scale to judge your health isn't the right tool to use. And right now I have a lot of muscle, so I'm okay. I have a few friends that eat like pigs when they eat and yet are super skinny. High metabolism. One of my friends gets it all the time: "Are you anorexic?" "You need to eat more food!" "You need to go to McDonalds!" No matter how much she eats, where she eats, and what she eats, she will always be skinny. The body is weird.
 Most of my family are either overweight or obese. It's sad, but I have a suspicion that it has to do with their thyroids not working correctly. Sure, some eat fast food and junk food too much, but as for those who don't and try so hard to lose weight, I'm pretty sure it's their thyroids. My mom and grandma recently found out that they have underactive thyroids (hypothyroidism). They have to take medicine for it daily. Hypothyroidism tends to make you overweight.
 ...Okay, I've decided. I won't write tonight. It's getting late, my brain is getting sluggish, and I need sleep. I'm looking at 6 1/2 hours of sleep if I go to bed in a few minutes.
 One last thing: Wear sunscreen! I was in a hurry to leave the other day, so I brought a tube of sunscreen with me. I was looking for my mom and sister in a big crowd (We were at a local event with music, food trucks, etc.), and when I finally found them, I was in too much of a fluster to bother putting on sunscreen. I thought they had already put some on prior because their skin looked oily as though from sunscreen.
 Dummy! It was a combination of sweat and their skin shrinking from dryness! Like grapes turning into sun-dried raisins. Like fresh, spongy, healthy skin turning into shiny leather. ...Okay, sorry. I'll stop. Yes, I'm horrible.
 Later, when we got back, the two had ugly sunburns on their faces, scalps, chests, and arms. I have a little bit on my nose, forehead, scalp, and arms, but it's not near as bad as theirs. Probably my lips were sunburnt, too (I don't feel it anymore, so it's probably healed). They felt a fair bit raw. There's a sunscreen lip balm out there, so I'll look around for that. *looks it up for you* ...It looks like there are a lot of options for them on Amazon.com, so if you're interested, go ahead and buy some. Especially if you're going somewhere where there's water. Light bounces off water like a mirror and gives you sunburns like you wouldn't believe. It just doesn't seem like it because the waves are constantly in motion. The reflections off waves are like little rapid-pulse laser guns: Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew!
"Aaagh! Stop it!"
 "No! You must die slowly!"
"Nooo! I'd rather be tortured by my mom's singing than suffer this agony!"
"What's worse: A little sunburn for a few days, or your mom's singing for--"
"On second thought, just go ahead."

...Okay, I really need to sleep, now. I think I got my "writer's restlessness" wriggled out of me, now. I have no idea where I was going with that joke, but at least you know how corny my jokes are. I tend to like corny ones, puns, short ones, and short-lined dialogue jokes. I guess it comes from my grandpa (Well, the stories told to me of him, that it, since he died 4 years before I was born.), because he enjoyed telling jokes like: "'I see,' said the blind man to his deaf and dumb daughter." and saying funny things when people said certain things: G-pa: "What do you want to drink?" My mom: "Just water." G-pa: "Water's for washing your feet in!" And another: Guest: "Can I use your phone?" G-pa: "Yes, just put your dime down right there next to it." (As though it were an old payphone.)
Agh! I need to stop talking! (er, typing?) ...Now, where is that Sweetie? Probably sleeping with my mom or my sister.
Good night, all! Have a happy and safe June!