October 2016

Ah, yes. Your immediate thought is: "Where have you been, Jennifer??"
Well, here's a list of reasons:

1.  Once I finished rewriting the absolute beginning of this book (I thought I could summarize it, but then the story swept me off my feet and made me just write it.), I took a short break because my pinky knuckle was hurting. (I broke it back in 2008, and my witch of an aunt had no care in the world when I begged her to take me to the ER. It was hard to even get her to glance at it, and all she said was it was fine. It was swollen! At least she finally gave me ice after I begged her enough times. It healed wrong, but I can still use it when carrying heavy loads. I just can't bend it in a certain, less-commonly needed position, and I can't write longhand or draw for too long or too fast at a time, or it will hurt like somebody is twisting and pulling on it hard.)
2.  My mom witnessed a shooting that happened right in front of her. She's okay now, but she occasionally has flashbacks of it. How it happened: My mom was walking to work early in the morning, when she noticed that a man was following close behind a woman. He started harassing the woman to give him her money and cell phone, she told him to leave her alone, he started rushing closer to her and yelling at her demandingly, then she spun around and yelled, "Get away from me!" She pulled a gun out of her coat pocket and shot him once in the hip, then ran. My mom stood there in shock and heard him fall to the ground. It sounded like someone dropping a big sack of potatoes. She called 911 from her cell phone and waited for police and paramedics to arrive on scene. While she waited, she had to listen to him moan and cry over how much it hurt, which really bothers my mom to think about. When police arrived, my mom filled out a witness report, then was filmed and questioned by our local news station. She ended up on TV. There were other witnesses, but since they were not as close to the scene, they got facts wrong. Then the newspaper got facts a little more wrong from there. She was not wearing a "white hat", she wasn't wearing any hat. Her hair was so light blond, my mom could almost be certain she bleached it. It was also not "shoulderlength". It was longish. And where it says her coat was "red or blue", it was red. The man ended up in the hospital, of course, but he's expected to recover. Police could not find her, but she did leave a purse or backpack behind, I later heard, so I suppose they'll search it for her DNA and find out who she is. Anyway, when my mom finally got to work, she was crying, so her supervisor, having had also heard about the incident (It shut down a nearby high school and had many people around worked up from hearing about it), had to heart to send her home for the day. I was still asleep when she got home, but I was having a fitful sleep from an uncomfortable dream I no longer remember. My mom woke me up a little bit before my alarm went off, and told me all about what happened. She was pale and suffering from nausea, but was strong about it. I was reluctant to leave her alone at home, but she told me that she would just go online and talk to friends and family on social media. I was getting off work early that day because I was going to have my flu shot, but I'd still have free time once that was over, so I was able to get home earlier than normal. During work though, because I suffer from having a vivid imagination, I kept having clear visions of the incident happen again and again in my mind. It didn't affect my work quality much, though. I was determined to not let it take over me. I focused harder than usual, listing out everything and looking around for anything I missed in my list of things to do. I kept briefly forgetting things and not doing them in my usual order, but I finished it all just in time for when I had to leave for my flu shot. When I got home, my mom was feeling a little better, but she still had waves of nausea that would come and go. After a while, she laid down for a nap. She felt better afterwards, but then a family member called, which made her have to talk about it again. The nausea came back, but it was gone by the end of the day. The second day was just a little better for me, but I was more scatterbrained. I guess I was mentally and/or emotionally exhausted. It took me about 3 or 4 days for me to feel okay again, but I extended my break afterwards from writing. I didn't have the mental and emotional energy for thinking about other peoples' (my characters) troubled, exciting lives. My own life needed a little vacation. Peace, quiet, and relaxation. My mom and I have gone through so much, it's unbelievable we've made it this far, but our life stories will make an amazing, inspiring read one day. My mom is slowly working on writing the story of her life when she's on break at work. I haven't started on mine quite yet. As you can see, crazy things are still happening, and I really want to write this book series. So much happens that interrupts my writing, I occasionally wonder if I'll ever get the chance to finish it. 
3.  When I was feeling better and not thinking about the shooting anymore, I considered jumping back in the wagon of writing, but then I realized with anxiety that I was done writing the absolute beginning and had to Cut and Paste that document into the second (middle) chunk of the book, which was a later part of the beginning in a separate document. I knew it would take some extra thinking power and carefulness to make sure I was doing the right thing in putting what where, so I decided to wait until I was up to the task.

 So, as you can see, that day was yesterday. ...Er, well. The other day, that is. It's 1:27 AM of October 9th, now, but it was the afternoon of the 7th that I was finally ready to take up the delicate task. I couldn't get it wrong. I've already been there. In a slightly different way.

 I once was converting G3:DF to a newer file (because I was using a Sony VAIO that was manufactured in 2005, which used an old Google Docs version) and somehow the computer was messing up the copies and pastes, so parts of the book was missing. I had to backtrack countless times throughout the whole book (We're talking over 422,000 words!) to find and fix where the book didn't make sense. That was brutal, frustrating, and time-consuming, so that's why I was being overcareful yesterday.

 Oh! You know what? There's a 4th reason why it took me this long to write again:

 Art. I took to art to get the bad dreams of the shooting out of my mind. It helped. I took up the Inktober challenge on DeviantArt, so I was making pen drawings and submitting them on a daily basis. The past few days, though, my imagination has cut short. I guess I'm back in my writer phase again. Ugh. I wish I could make art and write regularly on the same days, but unfortunately my muses don't get along with each other very well. But I already warned everyone on DeviantArt that I would probably not do art for every day, mostly because I'll be getting ready for my cousin's wedding on Halloween. I'll be taking a train for the first time, as she lives far away, then I'll be staying the weekend over there doing whatever I can to help them get ready. Her husband-to-be will be dressed up as the Doctor from Doctor Who, she will be a surprise, and I (her maid of honor) will be wearing a dress and a horse head mask. It's going to be hilarious.

 *yawns* It's 1:51 AM, I'm getting sleepy (but still eager to write), so without further ado, here's the word count you've been eager to see. (Seriously, I wonder about this. Which are you most eager to read from this blog? My unpredictable life story, or the word count? No offense if it's just the life story that keeps you coming back. It's more exciting reading about something interesting than seeing that I wrote xxxx number of words a day. "Woop-dee-doo. Word count. Give us a published book, already!" In due time, my friends. In due time. It's twisting the nose of my patience, too. Believe me.)

Oct 7 thru 8

19,058 (beginning) + 163,450 (body of story, approximate) = 182,594 words total (writing and editing)

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Oct 8

19,419 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 183,005 words total (writing and editing)

11:59 PM

To get the feel of the story again, after so long of not writing the second part of the beginning (middle document), I'm reading the book from the very beginning and working up to where I left off. Once I have the rest of that written, then I can connect that into the body of the story by copy and pasting it into the main document, then divide the document into more than one because it takes a long time for a document to load when it has a lot of pages. The "body of story" document is 926 pages long, and it takes too long for my patience for it to load.

...Whoops! I'm failing asleep at the computer! Time to publish this blog post and jump into bed.

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Oct 9 - 10
21,103 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 184,689 words total (editing and mostly writing)
1:32 AM

 Whoops! I got the 3 and 5 mixed up and made Oct 8th's word total 185,005. It's fixed now. It happens when I'm tired: I get 3's and 5's mixed up because they look similar and they're my favorite numbers, which switches them around in my brain.
 Other than that, I don't have much else to say. I was originally planning on going to a local pumpkin carving contest and participating in it, but I just felt like having an easy, laid back weekend where I didn't have to go anywhere and just write. I've been suffering from allergies this weekend, too, because we haven't found an opportunity to vacuum our carpet. I'm terribly allergic to both species of dust mites. I'm on an allergy medicine right now, and I'll go up to two pills soon (Zyrtec), but it woud be good to find a way to vacuum without anybody getting in the way of that.
 My sister has been listening to music on her computer, and I'm too nice to make her stop in the middle of her music zone. She's also like a ticking time bomb and is hard to convince sometimes, so I often leave it up to our mom to deal with her. Maybe I'll take my chances tomorrow. She's been less emotional lately. You never know with autism, but I'll see what kind of energy level she's at. It's the only way I can see into her.
 Three weeks from this day until my cousin's wedding! *claps excitedly*
 I was listening to relaxing music while I was writing today. Sometimes my family was distracting me or my legs kept needing to move (Sitting all day does that to you), but I feel like I was able to get quite a bit of writing done. At least, it felt like it was a good amount written. Let's see.... *does math* I wrote 1,684 words. ...Yeah, I guess it was an okay amount. But I had to read and edit before where I left off. That took some time. Also, my talkative family was interrupting my concentration or talking to me a lot, but this time I didn't get upset or emotional. They weren't bugging me constantly, only continuously, which is not their usual way, but I was glad to see a little more respect from them. Maybe it was because I was sitting on the couch instead of my usual place at the table? I'll have to do some experimenting to find patterns in their behavior and my location....

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Oct 10 - 11
21,930 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 185,516 words total (editing and mostly writing)
1:47 AM

I'm too sleepy to write anything right here. Other than this, of course.

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Oct 18 - 19
22,871 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 186,457 words total (editing and mostly writing)
1:26 AM

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Oct 19 - 20
23,883 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 187,469 words total (editing and mostly writing)
12:57 AM

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Oct 21
24,836  (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 188,442 words total (editing and mostly writing)
6:00 PM

 In the past two weeks, I started seeing an odd change in drivers' behavior on the road.
 First, I started having unexplained fears of getting hit by a car (with me as a pedestrian).
 That next week, I witnessed a woman not paying attention to oncoming traffic and started turning at a light, so the oncoming car (which was very close) screeched to a halt just one foot away from hitting her.
 Then, when it rained, people started driving too fast, spinning their wheels from hitting the gas petal too hard when the light turned green and almost spinning out on the wet roads when turning.
 When crossing the street, I had three close calls of getting hit by cars turning.
 For one of those times, I was tired that day and was eager to get home, so when they barely stopped in time and waited for me to proceed to cross, I irritably waved them on with a stiff, swift arm as though sweeping them from my sight, shouting "Go!" and thinking "I'm so sick of this!". When that didn't work, I stomped away to the crosswalk button pole, crossed my arms, and waited, looking away. They rushed onward, and I grumpily waited for the next light. I was tired of seeing stupid drivers.
 But the worst was yet to come.
 About four days later (5 days ago), my mom's coworker was walking to work and was going to cross the road at a crosswalk, when she saw a truck wanting to turn. She saw the man stop, so she proceeded to walk across the street, because the light said that walkers could walk.
 But the man didn't see her, starting to turn.
 He hit her mostly from behind, knocking her down flat on her face. She suffered hairline fractures to her ribs, a broken nose, broken jaw, broken arm, and scratches on her face.
 The man was very apologetic and polite, admitting that he didn't see her (not looking both ways), and bringing flowers to her hospital room.
 Two days later, the daughter of another coworker got into a car accident: She was hit from behind... hit-and-run style. She just suffered a little whiplash.
 Speaking of hit-and-run, a friend of mine who lives in another town, her grandpa got hit on foot by a car... hit-and-run style, which is worst of all. That happened about 6 or 7 miles from here.
 So, what is wrong with drivers, lately? Nothing I can figure out, but I hope people can grow their brains a little more, and quick. Because this is not something I want to be constantly afraid of. Sure, I see stupid drivers all the time, but this? This is an unusual level.
 It might be a change in the weather. I see it in people a lot, and I feel it, too.
 It might be that people are exhausted and not getting enough sleep because the holidays are coming up fast, so they are either less patient to get home or too out-of-it to focus correctly.
 Either way, I wish drivers would be tested more frequently for their knowledge in driving etiquette and be given less pity in court when they do stupid things on the road. When I was a kid, I met a guy who had seven DUIs in a row and still didn't have his driver's license taken away. How in the world...?
 Anyway, enough of me talking on and on about this. I hope the best for the healing of those injured, and I hope drivers will be more careful with their monster machines and remember that pedestrians still exist.
 When I was a kid, I had nightmares of being the passenger in a car and seeing someone's body hitting and breaking the windshield. It was bloody and terrifying, and it sounded loud and realistic. Sometimes I have fear of being that body.
 But fear is not welcome here. Not yet. I've been through enough worse things to say this is nothing.

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Oct 22
25,500  (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 189,086 words total (editing and mostly writing)
3:33 AM

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Oct 23
26,062 (beginning) + 163,586 (body of story) = 189,648 words total (editing and mostly writing)
2:49 AM

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September 2016

Sept 1

347 words (writing and editing longhand)

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Sept 2

422 words (writing and editing longhand)

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Sept 3

394 words (writing and editing longhand)

 Oh, I can't believe it! I typed a bunch for this blog, and I copied it, meaning to paste it here (instead of in the August 2016 post), but then I forgot and copied something else. The whole thing is gone. Oh well. I remember the basics of it:

 You know how I had to stop where I left off because I hadn't exactly written the beginning of this book (I meant to summarize it, but then it slowly won me over and I started actually writing the book), and how I had to go back and actually write the very beginning of the book so that I could know what my characters were doing in the beginning and to pick up where they left off? Well, I'm close to being done with the beginning. The book is currently in three pieces right now because it was too hard at first to initially start the book from the beginning, but I'm getting very close to being able to connect the three together into the original file.  Heheh, the notebook I've been writing in has only 21 blank pages left in it. Three pages were used for notes, 21 blank pages are left, and the rest are written in. Which means I wrote 46 pages longhand. Whew!  Thankfully, I've been avoiding traditional ballpoint pens because they're hard on hands. You'd have to apply a lot of pressure in order to get the ink out, which would give you hand cramps. In the past, I've suffered from hand cramps, and having a bad knuckle that didn't heal right after breaking it makes me even less willing to get hand cramps again. That's why I've been using a Uni-ball Signo medium point pen with black gel ink. 

 ...Haha, I sound like I'm in a commercial! Know this: I didn't mention the brand because I'm being paid to promote it. I just merely bought it at my local grocery store, tried it out, liked it, and am now telling you what I've been using. I'm rather fond of this pen. I have another favorite pen, but I haven't been able to find it for a while. I like it for its ease of use and because it makes a funny high-pitched squeak whenever I click it. Actually, it doesn't click at all. It just squeaks. It's my favorite squeaky pen. I love how it's so easy to squeak it rapidly a bunch of times without my thumb getting sore. All other pens that squeak are annoying. 

 As for the paper notebook, it's just a standard 70-page wide rule paper notebook. I didn't have a college rule notebook at the time, but I'm glad I used wide rule: If I make a mistake or want to squeeze in words when I don't like a sentence and want to edit it with little room to spare, I can use the space above the original words to fit them in.

 ...It's 3:16 AM, Sunday, September 4th. I am tired. I must sleep. I must fight the urge to write. *moans*

 Oh, I forgot to mention: Once everything written is back in one file, I'll then continue to give you the total word count of the book each day I write.
 And here's a funny picture of Sweetie sitting between me and writing this blog post:

 She wanted to let me know that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Initially, she laid down and rested her head on my arm, making it difficult to type with my right hand, but then she sat upright and stared at the mirror with huge eyes as though she saw a bug hide behind it. She has a freak talent for knowing where a bug is. We mostly get small spiders the size of your thumb nail, but sometimes they can get to the size of your palm. Hobo spiders get pretty big when you let them, but with her around, we've been able to capture or kill them before they get that size. I try to catch and release them whenever possible. They're good for getting rid of other unwanted bugs.
 They're also good for scaring my mom. Just kidding. I'm not mean, and I don't like mean pranks. She screams when she sees them loose, but she just gets freaked out when she sees them in the bug jar. Her screaming hurts my sensitive ears, which is why I'm forever grateful that Sweetie notifies me when she sees one. Most spiders that don't make webs in the air hunt on foot at night, which is why Sweetie and I are the perfect spider-eradicating team: We're both nocturnal!
 Uh oh! It's 3:51 AM! Time for bed!

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August 2016

 My apologies for my absence in these few weeks. I got sick with a cold, and just when I thought I was all better, I was hit with a sinus infection, a sore throat, a cough (I still have it), congestion (I still have it), and finally... an ear infection. Just today, I got prescribed antibiotics. My eardrum tried to rupture a few times, leading to some bleeding from my ear. It's okay. I'm fine. Even if it does rupture, it'll heal on its own. Freaky, though. And yes, I can barely hear out of that ear. Annoying.

Neither one of my ears have ever bled before, even when I had a bad earache in both ears, an infection in my right ear, and a double ear infection in my left ear. That was when I was 9 1/2. I have never experienced worse pain in my entire life, but this morning? (Actually, that was technically yesterday. August 3rd. Now it's August 4th.) It came close to that level of pain. I woke up from an ear-piercing pain around 7:30 AM, and I couldn't fall back asleep again. So, I got up, took 2 Advil, and looked up on the computer what it could be. I can't remember much, but all I remember was finding a forum that contained a father telling a story about how his 4 year-old daughter going to school with an ear infection she didn't tell him about, and having to pick her up from school because her eardrum had ruptured and there was blood coming out of her ear. He said that her doctor said that it would heal in 3 months on its own, but that antibiotics would keep it from getting infected in the meantime.

 Anyway, what else is terrible? Oh yeah. That cold I mentioned? I got my mom sick with it. What's so horrible about that, you ask? Well, it just so happens that this week is my mom's first vacation in 7 years! But at least it happened on a non-work week. She doesn't like taking off work, so much that I suspect she dismisses her colds as "just allergies" a lot. She still struggles with allergies, but it seems unrealistic that a mid-aged woman who gets 4 - 6 hours of sleep all the time, hasn't gotten sick with a cold for at least 2 years.

 But enough of this. Let's hear about my writing progress! 

 One word. 

 You: "What?"

 Hahaha! It's just for this month! Don't worry! I wrote a fair bit more than that in the last part of July before I got sick. I just have to go back and count the words, because I was working on the hand-written part that happens in the very beginning of the book. 

Yesterday, I did have an idea for a song a character sings. So far, I'm ten lines in. But I don't count it as part of my writing until I go over it and decide not to change words around anymore. I tend to do that in songs/poetry. 

 I think, "Oh, wait. This looks better over here, and these three words are unnecessary." 

 Editing is fun. It reminds me of a jigsaw puzzle. 

 Speaking of which, I've been having a little fun on a jigsaw-solving website on and off for several months: Jigidi. Isn't that a cute name? I couldn't decide on what to make out of my username, so I called myself "PuzzleToothbrush" and made my profile picture a Photoshopped cross between a fish head and a half-peeled banana (not made by me). Why? It's just amusing. 

 I like to amuse myself and imagine making a person grin, then I laugh by imagining the look on their face. I'm the kind of person who laughs at a joke, suddenly stops and stares at a friend (trying not to laugh), then sputters back into laughter again. I'm also the type who, after everybody, including myself, laughs at a joke, I end up hearing it playing all over again in my head (especially if it's a funny sound) and laugh again and again until I manage to force myself to shut up into a dying last choke/giggle. I have a good audio memory when it comes to humor, but it's hard to make me truly laugh with a long, complex joke, or one that requires too much thinking. (I think and process information slower than the average person, so it takes me longer to get a joke. Sometimes I forget details in long ones, and I end up not getting it in the end. I don't like annoying people or making them feel bad or think that I was insulted by their joke, so I just pretend to be amused. I end up feeling stupid or super awkward because of that.) Or jokes that require asking me questions. (Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it was lame, too-short, and puny!) Puns and nonsensical comedy (Silly things and whatever doesn't exactly make sense. Examples: YouTube Poop, Gmod videos, movie spoofs and parodies) never fail me. I find it hard not to grin in public when I hear a guy trying to imitate the high-pitched voice of a woman/girl. Things that catch me by surprise at the least expected times? Classic.

 But enough about what amuses me.

 I totally lost track of time writing this post, so it's already 1:50 AM. I have to get well, so please pray/wish/hope that I do very soon.

 Thank you for staying with me on my writing journey so far! :-)

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 It's August 10th, and I'm pretty much all better. My hearing is returning (near normal now), and my nasal congestion is almost nonexistent (I have morning and late night allergies at home.).
 Yesterday and today, I was working on playing catch-up here because I was editing and writing in late July and early August, but hadn't documented it in this blog, yet. So, my game of catch-up: Counting how many words I did each day. Manually. Because, as you know, I'm writing the very beginning of this book long-hand until I reach the part where I started it in the electronic (typed) document of G4:O. I've just finished and updated the "July 2016" post, so you can see the days you have not seen before. Not much to look at, to be honest. Since I didn't write much more than a bit of editing one or two words, and how I didn't post them the same day I wrote/edited, there isn't much of my usual rambling towards the bottom.
 One thing I forgot to mention, however, is that I bought a few pet fancy mice on July 23rd. Unfortunately, one of them was chasing and biting the smallest one. From the answers I could find, it was either displaying dominance, or their home was too small. Since we didn't want a mouse that had a history of aggression, regardless of the reasons, because you never know if nothing works, I took it back to the pet store.
 Bad news, though: The smallest one, a black mouse named Luna, died yesterday. She was sneezing the day I got her, but I just thought it was food dust because she was eating at the store. Wrong. She slowly got worse, and I looked it up and determined it was likely a cold. It seemed likely at the time because I had a cold the week prior, and mice can get sick with many of our illnesses. I didn't think about how she was sneezing at the store. Her symptoms even seemed to be a cold, and I learned in a pet mouse forum online that colds in mice would end on their own but that the flu was deadly to them. So, I guess it was the flu, instead? Odd thing was that she seemed to be getting better for her last two days; more lively after several days of sleeping a lot and barely having her eyes open. Then she straight out-of-the-blue died. I'll call the pet store tomorrow, but I doubt anything could be done about it now. I don't know actually. We'll see. What I do know, though, is I'll never buy the runt of a litter, let alone a mouse by itself in a tank, ever again. It didn't seem to make sense at the time why Luna wasn't in with the others, but I get a hunch now that they separated her because she was sick and getting picked on by the other mice. But since I'm guessing and don't know the full truth, I won't be dead-set sure just on that information.
(Ramble, ramble, ramble. I'll finish this blabber tomorrow)
*Next earlimorn, Aug 11th* (Nope. Not tonight. Too tired. Maybe tomorrow.)
*Next earlimorn, Aug 12th*
 I haven't called the pet store yet. Maybe I'll do it this weekend since I'm feeling better.
 Man, illness after illness around here. I got a cold, then a sore throat, cough, post-nasal drainage, and an ear infection so bad, it made my ear bleed a little for a few days. (There was so much pressure, my ear drum tried to rupture, but it didn't.) Then there was me getting my mom and sister sick, and the mouse dying after getting sick. Thankfully, the other mouse, whom I named Tree for her markings (I'll post a picture here later of her. There's a tree on her side, so I named her Tree. I'm not good at naming pets.
 Characters are a fair bit easier to name, but I still haven't decided on one particular character. I created him 9 years ago. I think once it gets close to writing his first appearance into the book I'm working on right now, I'll have a name for him. Many of my characters were named like that. I don't know him a lot, yet, so it's hard to match a name to his personality. I don't really have hugely important scenes with him (as originally planned when I daydreamed the whole book so many years ago). He's rather quiet and solitary, wise but leaves younger folk to take care of most problems. People respect him, so he doesn't have to talk much.
 I like him. Even though I live in a technological world where people's faces are super glued to their phones and other electronic methods of communicating, I have reason for not liking to talk. Speech problems, slow mental processing, people not understanding, people being too chatty, being sensitive to being interrupted all the time (I'm more patient with people other than my mom, but with her? It's countless times a day! She has problems of her own, though.), lack of self-confidence, beating myself up for my failures to be a normal human being, and social anxiety.
 Why in the world did I want to work in a library with social anxiety, you ask? Well, I knew it'd help me in the long run. The only way to tackle a problem is to run into it. I've actually been slowly improving.
 Eye contact is my main issue, now. I'm afraid of looking at a person for too long, afraid people will think I'm staring at them or something. People around here are paranoid. I remember it as a kid especially: When anybody would look at me, I'd wonder why they're looking at me. Remembering it now, since I had nightmares of people staring at me wide-eyed without answering me ("What's wrong? What is it? Please! Tell me!") on many occasions, it's probably because of those, too. I'd always start crying in my dream because I despaired from their torment and wanted them to stop. I'd wake up choking and sobbing myself awake, only to find my eyes soaking in tears. ...Come to think of it, I think it all started because of those nightmares. Good to know.

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August 2nd
1 word (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)
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August 3rd
49 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)
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August 7th
83 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)
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August 8th
Half-midday, half at night
1,068 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

Woohoo! Look who's back! *strikes imaginary illness flat with a cartoonishly large hammer*
But I'm falling asleep with a cat sleeping on my lap, so I bid you a good night/day.
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August 10th
12:27 PM (15 minutes)
202 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

 I haven't been getting much sleep since I started working again. Grr. I'm glad I'm back to writing again, but must it also come with my usual restlessness at night? Going to bed and getting up in the earlimorn isn't my cup of tea, especially when I wake up, and it's a habit I'm struggling to break from ever since I finished writing G3:DF. Trust me, if you don't have a job and/or get out of school, don't get into an awful habit of going to bed around 4, 5, 6, or 7 AM and getting up at 12, 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 PM. Besides waking up bewildered at seeing a sunset instead of a sunrise and not seeing and enjoying the light of day for long, you'll also be inclined to gain a little weight (depending on your genetics and many other factors, of course), have less energy (odd levels of melatonin, perhaps?), have uncomfortable dreams, sometimes feel like the waking word is a dream, and have difficulty re-regulating your sleep cycle (even after 2 years). Just... don't... do... it. I don't care what Shia LaBeouf says.
 P.S. In case you've forgotten, "earlimorn" is a word I made up to use in my book series. I occasionally like making up words when I find the means "early morning". That's normally 12 - 8 AM. If you think 8 AM isn't early, then you aren't an early bird. I normally wake up on weekends anywhere from 9:30 AM and 12:30 PM, depending on how much sleep I get the night before. My main characters are early birds, but I'm not. Lol.
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August 11th
12:50-ish PM
25 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

I had a long, busy day. Nothing really new. Just busy. On 3 1/2 hours of sleep. I had to do a bunch of things before bed. And trust me, this little sleep is not about to be a habit. *moans*
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August 15th
Approximately 12:30 PM
12 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

 My little cousins came to visit yesterday! (The 14th. Today's really the 19th, but I'm writing here for the 15th.) At first, we thought they were coming over on Saturday, so I was busy rushing around all day to get the place cleaned and organized.
 My mom and sister are slobs. The kind of people who drop stuff on the floor like shoes or books and leave it sticking out in high-traffic areas. I don't know how they don't trip. Er, well, they do stub their toes a lot at least, but they don't learn. I'm always the grumpy one who stops before a thing or two (or three) in my way, shoves it aside with my foot, and gripes about the obstacle course they somehow don't mind being there. If I had my own place, it'd have half the junk, be organized using containers, and own little more than what I do now. (I keep my possession count to a minimum due to lack of room thanks to the two clutter clowns. Lol. But I'm happy doing that anyway. It doesn't take much to make me happy. Having once lived with an abusive clutter clown that had too much money and always bought me mountainous piles of gifts for my birthday and for Christmas, I can whole-heartedly say that money does not make me happy. It's being with a family that loves you and knowing what you love most and sticking to it. My mom and sister aren't perfect, but at least it isn't near as bad as when I lived with the aunt of terror and torment.
 Anyway, about the fun day with the cousins: Who came: My cousin L (names abbreviated for privacy reasons), her three children: K, age 8, girl. D jr., age 6, boy. D, age 2, boy. Also who came over: My cousin L's sister-in-law (can't remember her name) and her little 18-month-old boy. (I can't remember his name, either. It was noisy and chaotic, and it takes me several days of meeting a person and re-learning their name to actually learn it. Same or worse problem with their face. I can't place a face if I've only seen them weeks or months apart, and it has to have a name and memory attached to it that stands out in some way, or it simply becomes just a stranger, a face that's part of the crowd called "the rest of the world." For the longest time, I felt bad about it. I still have an awkward moment now and then, but I've come to accept that it's just the way I am. I'm not a "normal" person. I don't have a "normal" brain. I learn at my own pace. If I tried to force myself to be what I am not, to do what I can not do, I would simply be frustrated at myself to no end and hate my life. Just like I did countless times before for years. I struggled through school imploding all the time. It didn't help how my teachers got frustrated, too, but my inner struggle didn't help me, either. I'd get so frustrated trying and trying to concentrate and understand my schoolwork, I'd implode. Little did I know that anxiety and stress made me partially shut down so that the words coming out of the mouth of my teacher were little more than the "hwa-hwa-hwa-hwa-hwaaa" of the adults Charlie Brown heard in Peanuts. As the seconds passed by, the pressure built up higher and higher until I'd totally shut down. Nothing in the world was able to come in and be processed by my brain. Nothing in the world around me made sense. The world itself made no sense. I would sit there in a void with a moving image, as though in a movie. It was simply there because it wasn't there. It was just a burned-in image, as though you just shut off a TV after it showed the same thing for hours on end. Nothing existed anymore but yourself. Not until I was 17 did I truly feel confident when I was learning things new. After I had the dream that inspired the " G" book series I'm currently writing, I strove to improve myself. I had a goal to "at least learn a little about a lot of things", and I firmly stuck to it. I started to find ways to help myself learn, to find the right perspective on learning. I had the drive to improve myself, to augment myself, as though adding more blocks to a Lego robot to make it look bigger and cooler. Reading books and textbooks helped the most with this. Sometimes I wouldn't do my homework and would just read well beyond the stopping point. Because things were just so interesting. Everything. It was there that I learned that it was knowledge that was interesting. History wasn't interesting. Literature wasn't interesting. It was knowledge.)
...Okay, I think I got carrying away there quite a bit and went way off topic, but that's okay, I guess. I got it out of me.
...Nope. I have a thought to add to it:
...That's why I think teachers shouldn't ask all the time, "What is your favorite subject?" It makes kids choose. It separates different kinds of knowledge into categories which allow them to be stereotyped. "History is boring." "P.E. is fun!" "Literature is boring." No. Knowledge is fun. Learning is fun. That's the message that many teachers are trying to get across. If you are just as enthusiastic as each other about teaching, if you make it known that you are passionate about teaching the subject and that you love it so much, and you are excited about it, they will see it and will get so jealous that you're having fun and they're not, they'll want to get in on what you're so excited about. They'll think, "What is so cool about this? Come on, tell us!" And then they'll be on a search by themselves to discover the fun in the subject. Learning is a journey, not an assembly line.
 I've had teachers who taught like they had to just so that they could get paid. I've had teachers who've put a lot of energy and effort behind their teaching. Even if you really don't have much energy inside, fake it. It will do wonders on your students' behaviors and grades.
 A shout out to my awesome teachers through the years: Mrs. White (I've had two in my life: 1st grade and 6th grade, at different schools, both with husbands in the military. This one's for 1st grade Mrs. White.), Mrs. Mace (also 1st grade, same classroom), Mr. Davis (4th grade, Aniwa Elementary in Wisconsin, now closed down. I was only there for a few months, but it was pleasant knowing him, learning how to make my desk organized [I had poor organization skills.], and learning to sing "Jolly Old Saint Nicolas".), Mrs. Mitchell (5th grade. Boy, did she have a love for teaching! She taught all kinds of stuff. And she had us do a lot of hands-on things, including making and painting plaster masks on our faces similar to how the Ancient Egyptians did long ago to the bodies of their dead that turned into mummies. I still have it. I'll take a picture very soon and share it to you. Oh, and she also took us on a field trip to Camp Casey, directed class plays in the school library, and played the piano while she sung in a sweet, cheery voice that still makes me smile to this day. I can still sing most of the Fifty Nifty song. Her singing it sounded way better than any YouTube video that's ever been uploaded. Trust me, I've tried. They all sound corny. "Fifty! Nifty! United States from thirteen original colonies! Shout 'em! Scout 'em! Tell all about 'em! [etc.] Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut. [etc.]" There's about five or six states I've forgotten over the years, but it's otherwise stuck in my head all these 14 years. I've found quite a use from it. Everything from school assignments in later years to online quizzes. And that is how you teach, teachers.), Mr. Ayers (12th grade, Washington State History. He looks, sounds, and acts like an enthusiastic military guy. Not strict. He had a voice loud and firm that slightly echoed in the room, but he never barked or screamed at us. He was like everybody's dad. He loved teaching. I'm pretty sure he's still teaching the same class, too.), Mr. Weiner (Pronounced "winer" to those of you snickering. 12th grade, same school, World History. Hands down, the best history teacher. Except when he gets mad at you for talking over him. There was one dude that kept pushing Mr. Weiner's buttons all the time. Mr. Weiner would either yell, smack a yard stick against an empty desk next to him, or both. One time, he hit it so hard, the yard stick broke in half. It was loud enough to make everyone jump. He taped it together later, but then it broke again not long after, so then he stopped using it altogether. But about his teaching: He would make bulleted slideshows for us to copy down and take notes from. Even though he could have printed them off, it made us memorize it better by writing it by hand. Plus, the length of each of them would have taken millions of expensive printer paper to accomplish. What was funny was how he'd do the slides: Funny pictures every now and then that were still on topic, and one sound effect whenever a leader would make a big mistake [and history repeats itself, so there were a lot of them]: Homer Simpson shouting, "DOH!" Mr. Weiner would also talk in a casual way, pointing out the flaws in leaders' decisions in a critical point of view. Like when a country would stupidly try to invade Russia on foot in the middle of winter "not once, but twice in a row! You'd think they'd learn the first time, right?" *clicks a button* Homer: "DOH!" *we laughed* Oh, yeah. One more awesome thing about Mr. Weiner: He had an obsession with Star Wars. In fact, he had huge Star Wars posters on every wall of his classroom. It certainly kept the room cool when the morning sun would shine in. He had the upper windows covered in posters, too. When we were quietly working on tests, he'd play instrumental movie music, with a few Star Wars songs mixed in. Then he had his idol, Yoda, sitting atop the projector. It was a vinyl plastic decoration about a foot tall. He was so old, his hair had fallen off in places. Mr. Weiner would sometimes joke that he was watching us, so we'd better be working. Yoda is his favorite Star Wars character.), and finally...
Mrs. Watson-East (Everybody called her Beth. She was like everybody's close pal. Sometimes like a mom, too. If I had a favorite teacher in all my life, it'd have to be her, followed by Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Weiner, and Mr. Ayers. 12th grade, same school, Simplified Algebra A and B. Yep, I still struggle with math to this day. I can't multiply in my head beyond 2s, some 4s, 5s, and 9s. I forgot for the umpeenth time how to do division on paper. And I can't add or subtract high numbers without doing it on a calculator or on paper. Thankfully, I'm not required to do it a certain way anymore. It's not like I didn't like Beth's class and her teaching. Math just doesn't stick for very long. I just don't have a mathematical sort of brain. Maybe my imagination stole a chunk of that space in my head. My imagination section is beefed up and muscular from frequent use and my math section is a skinny wimp. When I was in her class, though, I did do well. Sometimes, I even figured out alternative ways to solve questions using methods that I made up that worked for me. Whatever works, right? I still have plenty of papers I completed. I used to be a C and F student, especially for math, but in her class? She rocked it, therefore I rocked it. It was a smaller classroom, so she was able to come to me sooner when I needed help, which kept inner frustration at a minimum. I wasn't one to internally implode or anything, but I would have felt bad about me being stupid and gotten restless from having to wait too long. That was one word that I was no allowed to say around her: Stupid. When her kids grew up, she never allowed them to say the word, "Stupid". For any reason. It's understandable. Stupid can be directed at a person to be mean, it could be directed at the self to beat oneself up, or it could be used to increase or promote ones hate towards something. "Math is stupid! This is stupid! This stupid zipper is broken!" Nothing is stupid. You can tackle anything. You can fix it. You can improve. I think that's why she didn't like the word. I use it a lot, and frankly it barely has much meaning to me. Sure, sometimes I'll beat myself up with it, and that's not healthy, but I've been using it for humor and all sort of things. It's just a funny sounding word. It was once one of my alternative cussing words (I once cussed, but then I got bored because everybody says the same things all the time. It's also bad and frowned upon in general, so I fixed it by making up my own "curse words". I've been making new ones ever since. But, yeah. Beth genuinely cared about all of us. Individually. She'd stay as long as three hours after school ended for the day just to help a kid with his/her homework so that they could improve their grades and help them learn how to do something. She stick around and listen to someone's story about a bad day they're having, or about chaos at home. She'd give great advice, give out useful numbers to call to help them out, even tell stories of her own hard childhood. I stuck around often because I couldn't concentrate and do homework at home. I'd fall behind in a class, too. I only failed one class because it required me to read a bunch of books I did not have time to read. AP Literature. Reader's block is a real thing, too. Oh, and I'm never reading Huckleberry Finn ever again. Reading that book was like trying to read in another language. Too many words and terms not commonly used nowadays, and the speech took me forever and never to read and understand. Making a bunch of quizzes and a major test that affected the majority of a student's grade was a huge mistake. It make me so upset to hear that several of the students in my class failed to pass the class, too. But I made up some of the credits lost by volunteering in my school library. Which marked the beginning of my public library life. With the things I did in the school library, it was basically equal to a library page position at a public library. Checking in and checking out books via the computer and book scanner, pushing a cart, etc. Of course, I did more than that. I helped out with a bunch of extra things such as helping with setting up a long poster, fetching textbooks from a storage room, running errands, and I can't remember what else. It was quite fun. I like feeling helpful. Always have. Ever since I was little. I often felt left out or unimportant, still do, so I've always like running errands, fetching things to solve problems, finishing things, etc. I guess by keeping busy, I feel more accomplished. I prove to myself that I am important for some things.)
...Uh, I'm getting way off track again. It's 2:36 AM. The mind train has derailed. I don't know where I'm going here, so I bid you a good night/morning.
...No, shut up, Jen. You totally forgot that you were originally talking about your cousins coming over.

To make it short and quick, lest I ramble off topic again:
My cousins came over to visit, I gave them some baby books, clothes, and a giant floor piano mat I found at a yard sale a couple of months ago. I had a bunch of [exhausting] fun running back and forth with the kids on the piano. Even the babies loved it. It went home with them 70+ miles away. I wonder how long the batteries will last? Hahaha!
Oh, and my sister gave them each a giant stuffed animal she was getting rid of. Cousin L said they slept with the stuffed animals that night. ^_^ So adorable.

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Aug 16
Approximately 12:30 PM
-5 in editing, 40 words in writing (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 17
Approximately 12:30 PM
34 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 18
Approximately 12:30 PM
139 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

It's going to be in the lower 90's (Fahrenheit) this weekend. Ugh.
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Aug 21
[Who knows what time? I'm getting a little fed up with keeping note of the times. I'm writing all over the place. I'll write a little midday, stop, then do a bunch more at night. I'm going to start not recording the times I stop writing, because it's just not practical anymore. I write when I will, and I write when I can. It was fun for a while, but I was doing it for myself because I thought I'd find it interesting to see my writing time patterns in the future. It was for a while, especially looking back in G3:DF, but now I'm a busy lady who doesn't stay up as late as 4, 5, 6, or 7 AM. I'll only pick it back up again if enough of you complain in the comments section below. Honestly, I don't think anybody is reading this blog. Blogger, a.k.a. Blogspot, is rather unpopular compared to Tumblr, Wordpress, etc. But I don't mind. I originally made these writing log blogs for my own records, just for fun, and to give me an extra motivational push to keep writing. I went from a cute sticker chart to this, and now I might soon start recording it elsewhere. Actually, since some of you might not like saying goodbye, I'll keep this blog running and do my initial writing here, making you still the first ones to read a new post as it's posted or edited. I like the simple style with all the tools in full view.]
114 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 22
51 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 23
83 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 24
247 words (writing and editing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 25
139 words words (writing and editing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 29

157 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

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Aug 30

420 words (writing beginning of G4:O longhand)

July 2016

3:17 AM
7,711 words total in separate document (so far)
July 1st

 The story is at a fast pace right now, making my keyboard sound like a hailstorm. It's making it hard for me to stop for the night, but I think I've found a semi-suitable place to stop.
 Last night I had 4 hours of sleep, and that was a bit too much for comfort. I woke up feeling okay, though. The day went well. I only started feeling sleepy towards the very end of my workday, which was a good thing. But it's not a habit I want to adopt. I like keeping track of how much sleep I'm going to get each night. Let's see... if I go to bed at 3:30 (It's in a few minutes, but it's approximate), I'll get 5 hours of sleep. I like to get 6 or 7 at least. I do best on 8 or 9 hours of sleep, but that almost never happens during the workweek. My mind is somehow more busy during the workweek, which means my imagination is more awake and my inspiration factory is running fluidly.
 I am yi[ong this with my eues c;sed/ = I am typing this with my eyes closed.
 Sorry if I accidentally cursed in your home language (if applicable). I couldn't keep my eyes open. They felt heavy all of a sudden and it was too hard to open them for a moment, so I decided to experiment to see how how I could type with my eyes closed when I am this tired. As you can see, not very good.
 Let's try it again:
 I am yo[ing this whith my eyes cloed. = I am typing this with my eyes closed.
 Mind you, I'm normally fairly good at doing this when I'm not falling half-asleep. Get more sleep, kids! I'm not your sleeping role model! I have problems. I am not a normal living human being. I am a zombie (sleep-deprived person) with the knowledge on how to cure my zombie disease and turn back into a normally-functioning human, but I am not curing myself because I have a craving for brains (writing).
 It's 3:42 AM now. I must... *dozes off for nearly two full minutes, having a dream I can't remember* squish my pillow with my face. Good night (and day!) to you.

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1:24 AM
8,068 words total in separate document (so far) <--Haha, I originally pasted a jpeg link to a video game character here! Oops. Sorry about that! (That was funny, though.)
July 2nd

 I felt very sleepy, so I decided to close my eyes and relax. Unable to open my eyes again, I started to fall asleep. A long moment later, my head jerked up from dipping low to the side.
 I am wiped out. Pooped. Done. Exhausted and tired. All this week, I've had little sleep and still done alright at work, even on the busiest days. Today was brutal, but I had loads of energy. I always get a strong thrill from being busy like that. Rush, rush, rush! Do all sorts of things! We need you! Without it, I doubt myself and go over my failures, awkwardness around certain kinds of people, and my embarrassing moments.
 Anyway, I finished work today feeling like shelving several cartloads of books (equivalent to feeling like running a marathon!). ...Which is exactly what was there. Why? It's the 4th of July weekend. This Monday is the 4th of July, and people are returning their books, DVDs, and other library materials all at once because they are making room to have several family members coming over to celebrate with them, etc. Last year, it was crazy. The morning of July 5th had in store for Circ (Circulation area of the library. That's where we check in and check out books, as well as get them ready on book carts to be shelved.) a surprise: A huge mountain of books spilled in from the outside book drop! This is why it's best not to turn in your CDs and DVDs through the outside book drop on the day of a holiday, when the library is closed, if you can help it. It's understandable when you absolutely can't, but keep in mind that CD cases might crack.
 This is the sixth or seventh time that I dozed off and jerked my head up, so I think I'll this right now. (It's 2:02 AM, and I get to sleep in tomorrow. Hooray!"

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2:20 AM
8,613 words total in separate document (so far)
July 3rd

 I don't know what to type here. as I am very sleepy right now. I'll try to post a picture of a sunset or something interesting here tomorrow.
For most of the day today, instead of a lot of writing, I had to do a lot of research for a couple of things in the book I'm currently writing. I'm satisfied with the results. In addition to the research, I also daydreamed several of the scenes I'm currently writing until I was satisfied.

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3:25 AM
8,719 words total in separate document (so far)
July 4th

 [Either my computer was being slow for no apparent reason, or Blogger just wasn't working right. I can't remember. It was late at night, so I wrote down July 4th's log.]

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 I'm about to write, now. :-) Check back in a little bit for July 5th's log. I won't write very much tonight because I want to go to bed early. Every holiday is the same: People turn in a ton of books and other materials in the outside drop box, so I'm going to have to really work fast shelving tomorrow. The weekend was already busy because people were returning their books, etc. before they left for the Independence weekend to visit family, etc.
 How was my 4th of July? Relaxed, cold, and sleepy. Living in the Pacific Northwest comes with the perks of cool, wet weather. It was mostly cloudy for most of the day, and it rained several times. Since I've seen the same, boring parade every year without seeing much of anything new in it, I chose not to go see it with my mom and sister. It was early in the morning, too, so I definitely did not want to go. (After all, I was awake until almost 4 AM last night. Lol.) It was cold and breezy outside, so I never took foot outside. I later hooked up my laptop to our new flatscreen TV so that we could watch the Orlando, Florida DisneyWorld fireworks and the New York Macy's fireworks live stream online. It was a treat compared to our city's budget cut funded firework display. Again, my mom and sister went to go see it tonight and were disappointed. It was even shorter than last year's display. Oh well. At least we got to watch the good stuff.
 Besides from that, my head has lately been sparking with ideas. I've been writing side notes. I can't tell you much, only that it has to do with... I'll give you a one-word clue... instincts. You may not think that is a big hint now, but you'll understand later. ;-)
 Alright! I'm off to write!
...

And I'm back to deliver tonight's word count, etc.:

2:01 AM
9,134 words total in separate document (so far)
July 5th

I hope you had a happy and safe 4th of July (for those who apply)!

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 Teaser: I can't say I didn't write today, but it wasn't where you think I did! ;-D
 ...Okay, it was the very beginning of G4:O. Yeah, so I'm writing all over the place, now. But I'm not keeping track of how much I'm writing for the very beginning, because I'm writing it longhand while I'm on my break at work. So I guess you can say that I am writing all over the place literally and figuratively. Heheh.
 So, I put a halt on writing the main body of G4:O (where I stopped) so that I will know what has occurred in the very beginning and where things left off before certain characters left the place they were at in the beginning.
 ...That might have been a tiny spoiler. Oh well. You won't have any idea of what's going on when you start reading G4:O, even if you do know it.
 "But you just revealed that these characters will be leaving this place for a while!"
 But you don't know anything else, do you? How long they are actually gone, for instance? Because even though I've technically been working on this book for a while now, I'm still far from being done. Actually, I don't know where G5:? (I'm not telling you the abbreviated title yet) even begins. I think it might just turn into the same issue that Christopher Paolini had when he was writing Brisingr and Inheritance: Brisingr got too long, so he had to make another book.
 Only difference: I already know G5:? will exist. I just don't know how long it will be and where to cut off G4:O. Yes, I don't know when G4:O will ends and G5:? will begin. There are some things I no longer remember when I was planning G5:?. After all, I daydreamed the book series (from G3:DF onward) several times without being able to type anything down (when I was age 15 - 17).
 All I had was pencil/pen and paper. It's much slower-going when you're writing longhand, especially when you've got a pinky finger knuckle that suddenly starts to cramp and hurt as though someone were twisting it hard. And no, I still haven't got it x-rayed, yet. I know it healed wrong. My aunt was such a heartless creature, she simply took a lightning quick glance at it and waved it off, saying "You're fine! You don't need to go to the hospital!"
 Anyway, there are many things I don't remember, and some things I remember and choose not to keep. I'm sometimes thinking about it, though. It has to do with one important character. He drives me nuts, really. Think of it like this: You don't want your readers to know much about a character, so you make yourself not know much about him, either. It doesn't make sense, does it? But that way, he/she remains a mystery. Which is just who this person is. And why he drives me nuts. And if I feel this way, you definitely will feel this way. It's like a torment, but it's also like a self-challenge of patience. ...Okay, I need not say anymore. I'm probably driving you nuts just talking all cryptic here. Sorry about that.
 It does make you eager to read it so you can understand what I'm talking about, though, right? But that's not why I said these things just now. I just wanted to torment you. Muahahahaha! ...Just kidding. No, I said all this because I felt the need to give you another clue as to what I'm writing and what kinds of problems I'm having currently. Because every once in a while, it's good to keep people interested in whatever projects you're working on. It also gives a future reader insight into what they're waiting for so that it's worth reading my writing log blog posts. I don't like making it too boring for people. Patience is worth rewarding. :-)
-July 7th

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2:24 AM
9,138 words total in separate document (so far)
July 8th

 Yes, I just wrote only 4 words tonight. It might not have been worth it to log here, but I did it anyway. I can't stay awake and am bound to doing anything stupid like this. Avoid getting only 5 hours of sleep, folks! I can sleep in tomorrow, though.

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2:17 AM
10,609 words total in separate document (so far)
July 9th

Yay! I reached the 10,000+ word mark!
 How I'll reward myself: Sleep tonight, cookies tomorrow. Yeah, I'm a sort of Cookie Monster. Lemon cookies, sugar wafers, snickerdoodle, oatmeal raisin (A lot of people I know don't like it, but it's good for you.), anything I can get my hands on.
 Just no coconut. I don't like coconut anything besides green coconut water.
Why: The favor and texture just don't fit well together for me. That strong, perfume-like, soap-like flavor when you bite into something that crunches similar to shredded carrots, but combined with the noisy, watery pops of a million tiny bubbles (like eating styrofoam).... No thanks.
 But I've heard about how oftentimes a person will have a strong dislike of a particular food and end up allergic to it anyway. That was me in case of becoming allergic to lemongrass. I first tried it in Thai food. It has a similar taste and texture to coconut, only stronger and more lemony and minty. Remembering that, I recently looked it up and re-learned that coconut was in the palm family (Duh!). Then it clicked on in my head: "Oh, yeah. I'm allergic to [some other food I can't remember right now]."
  ...Oh! I remember why I looked it up! It's because I recently tried dried dates (for the second time in my life, after many years) and had the same loathing for them. Dates and coconuts are both in the palm family.
...I've been dozing off several times, and my cat is right next to my computer purring like a nut (pun intended). I must obey her commands.
 P.S. Sweetie just said "go to bed" the clearest I've ever heard her say it! "Oh-oo-beh?" I'm so happy! Now I must really go to bed! ^_^

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2:07 AM
10,811 words total in separate document (so far)
July 10th

Happy Birthday, Cousin Sara! :-D (P.S. To those who don't know: I have 9 cousins! She's one of my closest ones, despite living 70 miles away.)
 I would have written more (I always feel like writing more), but my mom went to bed late and I got distracted by a TV show she had fallen asleep to (Stupid science! Why do you have to be so interesting??).
 Sweetie is on my leg, and although she looks very comfortable, her 7 pound body is making it start to cramp and hurt. I often sit criss-cross-applesauce (Hey, that's what I call it, okay? It's much better than calling it "Indian style", which is how my mom learned it in school.) ...Okay, she's off. She drank some water and is now grooming her face in a chair nearby.

 ...Nope! I had a newfound burst of wakefulness (likely because the part where I'm writing right now is getting a little more exciting.). That rarely happens, I have to tell you.
Here's the real writing log info:

3:18 AM
11,241 words total in separate document (so far)
July 10th

Good night/morning!

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3:04 AM
11,770 words total in separate document (so far)
July 11th

I was waiting for a private video to upload from my camera, so I wrote while I waited (But I wanted to write anyway). Unfortunately, I got carried away and ended up writing a whole hour after it was finished uploading. Oops. Off to bed!

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2:43 AM
12,104 words total in separate document (so far)
July 12th

 I sneezed 7 or 8 times today (2 because something floated into my nose. Yuck!), and right now I'm blowing my nose a lot. I hope it's not the beginning of a cold. I most always feel too miserable to write. (Sometimes it helps to make a "tissue walrus", but it eventually gets to my head, where I can't think and focus. I'm the kind of writer that needs very little distractions. Night time is perfect for this, but colds? A writer's worst enemy.)  But it might be irritation. Last night, I was stupid enough to clean the bathtub with non-watered-down vinegar and without the bathroom fan on, so my nose and eyes stung for several minutes until my mom came in and was like, "Whew, Jen. You need to have the fan on. It's very strong." ...Where. Was. My. Head? So, of course, I ended up being nasally and respiratorily miserable for several hours afterwards. This might be a result from it, too. We shall see what tomorrow brings....
 P.S. If I do end up sick, I will try my best to write as much as I can.
 P.S.S. If you happen to be sick right now, my Auntie Martha recommends putting a few splashes of Tabasco in chicken broth soup (I'm often too hungry for just broth, so I add a little broth to chunky chicken noodle soup and splash Tabasco in it). It works like a charm. Lots of fruit, too. And pineapple, horehound, natural licorice, and natural ginger (I like ginger chews/candy) help with a sore throat. I don't have a sore throat right now, but I know how miserable it feels, so I'm adding that in here for those of you who have it. :-)
 P.S.S.S. And yes, I do suffer from allergies. Food, chemical, and environmental! My current allergy medicine is slowly not working as well as it should, so that might have something to do with it. Ugh!

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Update (next day, July 12th): Yep. I have a cold. It's a good thing I stayed home today. My nose is a leaking faucet! :-~(

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July 13th
552 words (handwritten, very beginning of G4:O)
1:51 AM

 Yes, I decided to finally log my longhand writing, as well. It just takes up time to count each word. Sometimes, when I start daydreaming or get distracted, I forget which word was which number, so I end up getting frustrated and have to count all over again. I make note every 100 words, but it's still irritating when that happens. I should be counting by 50's instead of 100's, but either way, I end up feeling just as frustrated. It didn't happen this time, so that's good.
 Since I didn't put in how many handwritten words I did before (It's 3 pages long, which is just slightly fewer words than I did here, so it's probably about 500 words I haven't recorded here, yet.), and when I wrote them (They were 10 - 15 minute intervals during my break, so I didn't think the amount I'd write each day was significant), I'll have to put the word count in here as one total number instead of bits. I have no idea how many days I wrote. Something like two weeks. No more than four. Heck, I'll just call it three, since it lands in between the two.
 I don't feel like going back and counting the words right now, but I'll do it soon. And don't worry, I'll separate it from the honest word count of whichever day I share it here. Example:

"Month #st/nd/th

# words 

?:?? AM/PM

And here is the word count of the unknown days I hand-wrote the beginning of G4:O: 

# words"

 Now, for an update on my cold: Yesterday, I was miserable. Today, I've probably improved by 20% - 30%. It's a slow cold. Normally, I have the majority of a cold for three days, and it significantly improves on the fourth day and is nearly gone or gone by the fifth day. I can tell right now that it's probably slower by at least a day. Ugh-ly.
 I hate being sick. I hate not working. It's make me feel unproductive, like I'm not accomplishing anything important in life. I actually love my job. To those of you who hate your jobs, I apologize for saying that. I have friends who have had absolutely terrible jobs, too. I can imagine the horror stories you have about yours.
 One of my friends finally just found a job to replace her old one (though, being a babysitter having to watch a bunch of kids all at once, during the busiest time of the year, might not be the best choice....). Her old one was at a Michaels craft store, and her manager and the customers alike treated her like filth.
 Customers were mean, rude, demanding, judgmental, and they blamed her for the store's problems. People, just because a worker represents a store by working for it doesn't mean that they actually make the company decisions. Talk to a manager or write a letter or an email to the company and professionally work out your problems with them. Squabbling and yelling at a cashier won't get you anywhere. They just go home crying and talking to their family about their bad day. There are human beings everywhere around the world, and the less human beings are the ones who don't do a lot of thinking.
 Her manager, on the other hand, was mean enough to make several people quit. Her manager made her work on Thanksgiving and Black Friday for long hours just because he/she couldn't hire more workers fast enough. She couldn't sit down and enjoy Thanksgiving with her family, she had to sleep. And it was very little sleep. I can't remember, something like 3 - 5 hours of sleep. Brutal. Basically like slavery. And this happened in the United States.
 Anyway, bottom line, I boycott Michaels crafts stores. Something that's allowed to slip by like this is a good indicator that something seriously needs to be fixed within the company.
 So, I understand if you hate your job. I'd hate it, too.
 If there's a problem, go to HR (Human Resources). If there is none, do some research and find out who can put the bully in his/her place. Talk to your local government and ask them who to call about it, if nothing else. Remember: No matter how important they are to the company, you are important as a respectable human being who deserves being treated like everyone else. Your caring about and concern over others ("If it's possible to bully me, others could be next. And I don't want that to happen to anyone else.") is your best defense.
 P.S. At every single job my mom has worked at in her life, including her current one, she has been a victim of workplace bullying, discrimination (just because she's a woman), and unfairness by bosses/managers/owners/supervisors and coworkers alike. She hardly ever listens to my advice because she keeps being too afraid and wanting to wait until problems are actually bad (which "bad" seems to have no limit....), so maybe you can. You're strong. I believe in you. Be your own hero. Don't stop until it's done.

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July 14th
11:55 PM
49 words (editing very beginning of G4:O)

 I only wrote as much as I edited tonight. I like to go back and read a little before where I leave off before I continue writing. I saw some sentences that needed to be rephrased and more specific, so I fixed them. Then midnight happened, which means the next day (July 15th).
 I don't know how much I wrote afterwards for these early morning hours of July 15th. I'll count them tomorrow (one of the most annoying things about handwriting your written works is counting how many words you wrote.). I'm too tired, because I write until I can barely stay awake anymore.
 My cold is almost gone. I sneezed five times today. The nose-blowing happened mainly during the first half of the day. I've been able to breathe out of one nostril through most of today (besides the sneezing and nose-blowing sessions, of course). For most of today, I have felt a bit dizzy, especially when I look around, get up, and walk around. It's probably just from fluid in my ears or sinuses. I was quite dehydrated the other day. My lips were so chapped, they shrunk and split in two places. Painful. I was drinking plenty of water throughout the day, though. Only slightly chapped today, and the splits are healing surprising fast.
 ...I don't know why I'm sharing all this to you. It just makes me feel like somebody out there cares about my health, I guess. I don't have that much of a social life.
 *starts to fall asleep in chair*
*gets startled awake by Sweetie getting up from her chair (small scratching sound) and looking at me intently*
I know she did that on purpose. She wakes me up nearly every single time it happens. Sweet little girl.

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July 15th
Approximately 12:30 PM
220 words (editing and writing very beginning of G4:O)

And here is the word count of the unknown days (about 3 weeks at 5 - 15 minute intervals midday) I hand-wrote the very beginning of G4:O (three handwritten pages): 

711 words 

P.S. I'm not writing about basic things (from here till the end of July on this blog post), such as how my day went, because it's actually August 9th right now. I was sick with a cold, and just when I felt all better, I was hit with a burning throat and cough, then nasal congestion and some sneezing, then an ear infection that temporarily wiped out most of my ability to hear out of my left ear. I was so exhausted, I could not possibly bring myself to write. Whenever I get sick, my head is usually not clear enough to write. Plus, it's not convenient to have to cough or blow your nose a gazillion times in a matter of minutes. But don't worry. I'm about 90% all better, now.

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July 16th

Approx. 12:30 PM

4 words (editing very beginning of G4:O)

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July 17th

Approx. 12:30 PM

59 words (editing very beginning of G4:O)

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July 20th

To be continued... (I was in the middle of counting words and lost track at 63 and 52 because I kept falling asleep.) *next day passes by (It's the earlimorn of August 10th, now.)* (I spent the day counting the rest of the words I wrote up until now.)

82 words (writing very beginning of G4:O)

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July 21st
412 words (writing very beginning of G4:O)

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July 22nd
1 word (editing very beginning of G4:O)


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July 25th
2 words (editing very beginning of G4:O)

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^Referring to the last two days above
It's weird how even before you experience symptoms of illness, your brain begins to struggle concentrating or thinking clearly. I was having trouble with inspiration at that time. Then I think Tuesday (July 26th) was when I started having a burning throat and trouble talking, followed by a dry cough.

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

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 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

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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