You and Me, We're Meant to Be

Hey guys.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Let me explain what my life has been like lately: wake up, work, home, sleep, wake up, run, work, home, sleep, wake up, work, sleep, work, sleep, run, work, sleep, work, work, work.

Needless to say, I'm exhausted. Working 34 hours a week, when you're so used to working no more than 20 is tough stuff.

So what else have I been up to?

Well, first and foremost, I signed up for my first half marathon. January 29th at Disneyland. 5:30 AM. I'm totally excited and hopefully I can train up enough in time.

Also, I completely went through and edited my latest book. After I'm done with this, I'm going to put it into the computer and get ready to send it off to some agents. :) Also, it's pretty much the first time that I read through that book in completion: I love it.

I started a new book. So far, the prologue (a staple in my writing) is all I have done but it's all planned out in my head. I'm so excited to delve into it some more.

And lastly, I've been able to read some more books. Most recently, I've inhaled Newes from the Dead, the Hunger Games trilogy, and the Fallen series.

Newes from the Dead was OK. Nothing SPECTACULAR but a cute little stand-alone book. Great historical story.

Hunger Games....OMG. AMAZING. It's probably my 3rd favorite series, ever. Which is saying something considering the amount of books I've consumed over a lifetime. Basically, it's about a bunch of kids who are thrown into an arena to kill each other. Trust me. It's awesome.

Fallen & Torment (Fallen series) One word: meh. Like, okay, it's got a sort of interesting plot line. Fallen angels and reincarnation. Cool right? Yeah! Until you factor in the "romance" that's supposed to drive the plot forward. They're destined to be together. That part makes sense. But...they have no chemistry. None. She's just attracted to him and apparently has been for the last several thousand years.

I don't feel it!!!!!

I always enjoy reading so much because I can learn the different elements in stories that I like, that work. And then I can use those very same elements in my own writing.

Remember our woman power discussion? Well that still reigns true.

But this time I need to talk romance with y'all. I mean, any book or movie or play is only about two things at the core: death or sex. Nothing else.

(Most) humans crave a romance in a story. It drives everything forward, makes everything worth fighting for. And what can make this better if it is destined to be.

Come on, we all love fate.

What reading this series has taught me is that romance HAS to be totally believable. Legit. I think some authors have a problem with this because, in their minds, the destined romance seems totally real because they know everything about it.  But they sort of forget to share it with the rest of us.

Romances can be destined.

Philosophers can debated this for centuries. I believe that there are things I am destined to do with my life. There are places that I will have no choice but to go to, whether by plan or by chance. People in this world who I'm supposed to meet and be friends or enemies with. I believe that there is one person, somewhere in this world, that I am ultimately destined to be with. I'm not alone in this belief.

So this is my next goal.

For this next book, I'm going to destiny, fate. My main character will have everything that she loves ripped from her, in order that she should discover the person she is meant to be. Discover her fate everything on her own.

Sort of how I'm planning on discovering my own.

Funny how all of this comes from reading a simple book, huh?

Operation Status Update

There's a long running joke between my friends and I...

Wait.

Who am I to jump right into the fray of new ideas after that last posting? If you recall, dear reader, my mind seemed to be racing in just about every direction about running away from dreams of relationships blah blah blah.

At that point, I bet you all were about ready to slam the off button on your computer in frustration.

You want a hashtag that perfectly explains my last post? #teenagegirlproblems

I'm getting over it. Also, dear reader, if you will notice that post was time stamped from some time after 10PM. You will quickly come to realize that my mind is not a reliable source after, oh 9PM.

Right now, it's 8:51. So we better hurry up.

Anywhom, my last post did try to prove a point...to myself. It was a "self-discovery" piece, if you will. Coming to the realization that all of these things are happening. Things you've wished for all your life. And yet I run from them.

Here's the thing. I'm fine right now. With all of it. For the first time in years, I'm finally starting to enjoy life again. I mean, I still have my own set of problems but I'm beginning to accept myself for who I am for the first time.

It's a liberating feeling.

So, let's jump back into that fray, shall we?

There's a long running joke between my friends and I that although I try my hardest to keep myself anonymous (no real name, changing my writings just enough to count, using broad references, etc) a vast majority of you know me. I post this blog on my Facebook and Twitter. That's where most of you come from. You know me.

However, I would like to report that in the last week, my blog has reached yet another continent.

Hello South America!

If you want a count right now, my blog has gone to: the US, Canada, Malaysia, France, Germany, Switzerland, the UK, Brazil, Belarus, and Iraq. Let me know if you have not been counted!

Thank you all for joining me.

And as for remaining anonymous, I do have some more news.

No, I won't reveal my true name tonight. Tonight.

However, when I last wrote on this subject, I did say that my book was done being edited by A. I got it back on Wednesday and oh gosh did I realize how giant it was.

320 pages, dear reader. That's the size of the first two Harry Potter novels combined (ish).

I am currently working on going through and reading A's edits whilst also adding many more of my own. See, I've never really edited it myself (cuz who wants to print off 300+ pages more than they have to?). It's gonna take a while, but it will be finished as soon as I possibly can.

Do you know what that means next?

Agents, dear reader. There is one agent in particular that I will be harrassing as much as I can because I believe we're the perfect fit. And after agents, comes publishers. Comes you purchasing my book at your local bookstore (or e-reader, but those are lame). Comes me having to tell you my real name and the title of my book so that I can push book sales and pay my way through college.

Well, sort of.

Anyway, that's the current status update on that topic.

Speaking of status updates....

Listen to this:



This song is currently on "repeat" on my iPod. Actually, it has been for about an hour and a half. I've become obsessed with it lately.

Listen to the lyrics:

"I think I'm ready to leap,
I'm ready to leave
I'm ready to go"

Right now, this is almost my perfect description. I know I'm commenting on how much I have to look forward to in the next few months: Quitting my job, my sister coming home, going to my new dream school, publishing my book...living life. I'm ready for all of it right now. However, the next set also explains me right now:

"Get me out of my mind,
get me out of my mind."

I know, how does that make sense at all? Well, I've also said how lately I've been losing friends. In the midst of life and moving forward...they've disappeared. I don't believe that I've felt quite as lonely before as I do now.

With a few exceptions, it seems as if no one will communicate with me.

No one wants to hang out.

Texting is non-existant.

All I do lately (when I'm not at work) is sit at home doing playing Spider Solitare or Mahjong Tiles. And doing a whole hell of a lot of social networking.

My mind, lately, is a series of status updates. Something. Anything. Perhaps if this is interesting enough, they'll talk to me. I'll feel like I belong.

Is it wrong to say I want attention? Cuz at this point, I feel like I'm in a deep pit looking up towards the light where the party is. I miss the days when I was in high school or when I volunteered that I was able to make plans and be with my friends at any given moment of the day. My phone was constantly "blowing up". I felt like I was a part of something.

Status update: Table for one?

Is anyone there?

Whilst I did say that I was beginning to accept myself for who I am and that I can move on from certain challenges and harships that I've faced in recent years...this is something I don't know if I can do it.

You more than likely followed me from some social networking site.

I'm not trying to get you to pity me. Hell, you don't have to talk to me if you really don't want to.

But it would be nice.

--Rose

Dear Canada, Who Are You?

I love blogspot.

For one, it's got a simple setup.

For two, I can follow all my favorite bloggers on one easy page.

And lastly, it shows the statistics of where your readers come from.

Most of you are from the U.S. Big surprise, haha!

But there's also some internationals out there.

Hi France and Switzerland! I know who you are and I love you.

Hi Malaysia (I think)! I believe I also know who you are.

But there's also a reader from Canada.....

This gets me confused. Obviously, most of you come from my Facebook...but I thought I only had two friends who live in Canada...and they usually prefer Twitter or other social sites. Besides, I don't think they'd be that interested in this blog.

So this got me thinking...do I have a reader from an outside source? Or are you, my dear Canadian reader, actually so far north in Washington, Maine, New York, or Minnesota that it looks like you're from Canada? This is all a mystery to me...

Dear Canada, who are you?

Also, readers, feel free to comment. There's an anonymous option if you're really that shy.

In other news, I hope you already found that nifty iPod touch over there ---->

A good friend of mine, who is also a writer and a blogger, added one to hers and, being the Copycat that I am, I had to get one for myself. (If she gives me permission, then I'll link you to her blog cuz she's got a bit more writing stuff on hers than I do. And, also, she's basically amazing.) It's some of my favorite music and I'll probably be adding more to it as time goes on.

Meanwhile, I do have an actual subject for you today.

A few days ago, I went to a cast party for a show I stage managed at my old high school last semester. It took me a while to get into the party mode, and then we headed to the pool. I know, it always seems like the greatest ideas happen in the pool.

Originally, I hadn't been planning on going swimming. I didn't bring a bathing suit cuz I'd just gotten off a 9 hour shift. But someone lended me and extra and in I went. For a while we just paddled around, blah blah blah.

There was, of course, some testosterone filled teenage boy who felt the need to push everyone into the water. And that's just what he decided to do to me. Eight feet of water is a long way down for someone who isn't a very strong swimmer. It took a while for me to surface and as soon as I did, there was that same kid in a wrestling match with another boy and they fell plop on top of me. Eight feet again.

The rest is kind of a blur, but I think that someone grabbed me and pulled me up. I just remember surfacing again and going on like nothing had happened.

But the next day, I was sitting on the couch and that's when inspiration hit.

I told you that I've been sort of mulling over my next book. This one is supposed to be dark and edgy. Well, in any book, or at least in mine, there is always the question of how the two main characters (love interests in this case) going to meet?

Somehow that experience in the pool had more impact than I had initially thought (get it? Impact... heh heh). It seemed like the perfect time for something like this to happen...at least in the context of this book.

The point I'm trying to make is that if you're writing, you have to actually listen to your fourth grade English teacher: "Write from what you know." It's so true because books are written for humans, all of whom experience similar emotions and can relate to something on a basic level. That's why we love them so much. And next time you're reading, also remember that if you feel like you understand how a character feels absolutely and completely, then the author probably went through what you're going through.

That's my way of making the world a little smaller today. :)

--Bianca

Shut Your Trap

So right now I'm in a contemplative mood.

Listening to John Mayer always seems to do that to me. Here...listen along, dear reader.

Anywhom, as we listen to this song together, I'll tell you what I've been thinking about....

I need to learn to shut up.

No, really.

Somehow, over the past few days, so excited by the finishing of my book I've managed to tell half the world about it. Oh yeah, did I tell you I got my broken flash drive back (fixed) and it's officially finished? Right now, my darling friend and official editor has it in her grimy little hands. Very, very excited to start getting some feedback and to look for representation.

Anywhom, yes, I need to shut my trap about it.

I know what you're thinking: "It's your baby. You worked on that thing for 1263ish days. You should be proud about it. Tell the world!!!!!"

But...when I do...they tend to ask what it's about. As you know, dear reader, I've told you absolutely nothing about my "baby". You have no synopsis, little clue to what it's about, the names of the characters, or the world that it takes place in. You don't even know the title! And, as I explained, I do that for a reason here...the interwebz have a habit of leaking things. Well, in the so called real world, I don't want to tell too many people about it either.

"Buy a hard copy," I say. Really, I'm just waiting to get this sucker copyrighted.

When you have a child, you wait as long as possible to protect it from the slime in the outside world. Manuscripts can be described in the same way, I suppose.

Anyway, this is what it looked like just before it went off to my dear friend.

 The black spots are the title and my name. So ha ha ha. But it wound up being an official page count of 318 (1.5 spaced, 12 pt font), 38 pages, and 2 parts. A monster of a book. In case you can't tell what cover I decided on, here's a refresher...

You know, before I started I had another thing that I wanted to talk about. Hmmmm....

I had another literary contraction today. It used to be that I got them at least once a day, maybe more. But for so long, I've been devoid of them almost completely. So having 2 within a month's period is pretty dang awesome.

This one, rather than being dark and edgy, is more of a historical fiction thing. Actually, it takes place in 2 different time periods: Now and in the Ancient World. Sort of a parallel of worlds. I dunno. It might not be that great, but it's good to sort through the crap in order to find the diamond.

That wasn't even what my other idea was...but I suppose it will do it for now.

Oh yeah! I had an interview for a new job yesterday and to quote, they are "very interested" in hiring me. And the best part is...it's at a bookstore. Could you imagine a better job for me?! I think not.

Well, other than the writing thing...

I hope you enjoyed the music.

--Jeanie

Crying and a Killer's Debate

Sometimes I think I'm too emotional.

I wrote the ending to my book today. I didn't finish it, but I wrote the ending. If that doesn't make sense, then perhaps I should explain that I have a habit of writing books like the Star Wars films: I start somewhere in the center, sometimes having a beginning to base things on all. Then I'll go to the end, and fill in the holes earlier in the story. I find I write better backwards because then I have a definitive idea of where I'm heading.

Anyway...yeah, I wrote the ending. And I felt like crying. Call me crazy, but everytime I get to the end of a book, whether I'm reading it or writing it, I tend to cry (if the story is good, at least). And if I don't cry, I feel sort of depressed inside. Like there's some sort of weight in my heart that I don't know how to release.

It's not a really sad ending at all. Actually, in my mind at least, it's pretty inspirational.

But its still an ending.

However, I'm sort of stuck in two areas of writing this book.

First, is the actual ending. It's a debate I'm having on whether to kill off the romantic interest or not. Part of me thinks it would be sort of macabre to do so, but the other part thinks that it would be a sort of twist on the story, something to make it a bit more gripping. As of now, he is alive. I might wait a while before I choose which ending I want.

And now I feel so sick because I'm debating the death of someone who is, in my mind, very real. To me, he exists, has a name, has habits, interests, emotions, thoughts... I would say I've fallen in love with him, but that would be an understatement (and just sound even weirder).

The second area is the beginning. This part has been giving me trouble since day 1. I started writing this almost 3 years ago. Back then, I was writing it for the me of that age. But now, I'm writing it for the me of this age and beyond. And so the beginning, at first, was sort of generalized...like the starting to most books. Introductions, yadda yadda.  And now I'm trying to redo it, and it's taking place in form of a story. The only problem is...I don't know if making the beginning a story would be pushing it. I mean, there's SOOOO much that needs to be explained that it can't happen slowly...this book is already 250 pages and growing everyday. I mean, there's a bunch of people, different creatures, different places...and they all need to have a proper introduction.

I mean, is telling it like a story too much? Or just write? (Haha, that was a pun!)

GAH!!!!!!

There. You just got a taste of my aggravation that I'm experiencing on this.

Maybe it will come to me in a dream?

--Genevieve

Painful Memories Create Beautiful Writing

He grabbed my hand and pulled me from my seat and into the middle of their ruckus. In their game, the Pawnan tribe and my family has joined forces against the pirates (a certain few from the other group, who had pulled the short straw). They were planning to invade the ship, so it was up to I to make the final attack. There was no seriousness to this game in the least, and we wound up spinning in circles. It was so much fun, being here with my boys. Enjoying these precious moments that I’m sure were quite fleeting now. Moments that I had not had with them for seven years.

As I whirled around, taking a few of the Pawnan children and the boys with me, I spotted Damon and Ana back where I had left them. They were sitting cross-legged facing each other. Smiles were on both of their faces, as were expressions that I believed could only mean one thing.

My heart stopped and beat at three times its normal rate, all at the same time. Blood rushed to my ears. As I spun, time seemed to move in slow motion. Damon said something, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. It made Ana burst into a fit of giggles. I felt like I was going to vomit.

So many great things had happened in the last day, and yet now, it seemed as if none of that mattered.

Ana glanced at me, being pulled around in what had just been a joyous game. She smiled at me slyly, before returning to her conversation.

All of this time…I thought that Damon had feelings for me. Before I even left this home, I had felt something for him. It continued during my first two years in London. And even when I refused to remember, I had still loved him. And all the while, Ana had known about it. That day on the cliffs, she had told me that I needed to tell him. All of the hints at the two of us being together…she’d known.

I felt so utterly betrayed that I could almost cry.

For seven years, while I had been away, the two of them had grown closer. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if the boys had even mistakenly called her “Mother” at least once. Had Damon really tried to find me during all of that time? Or had he really been glad that I, simple, naïve, Elizabeth had been out of the way?

Sadness turned quickly to anger, as I realized all that Ana was capable of. She was a better craftsman, swordsman, huntress, and fighter than I was. Why had Damon even brought me back if I was nothing compared to the powerful Ana? To mock me of a life that I had missed out on because of a stupid mistake I made as a child?

I sat out on the rest of the games, but stayed close to the boys. I didn’t dare go anywhere closer to the two lovebirds.

Soon, the sun was beginning its final descent and it was time for us to go, before the Shadows haunted once more.

As we were about to leave, Ana pulled me aside. “Your next lesson begins tomorrow,” she started. “This time, your family will not be a part of it. You will be alone. Are you ready for that?”

I nodded, not daring to look her in the eye.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked. I shrugged and she shook her head, obviously brushing it off to something external. “Tomorrow,” she reminded.

I left her, making my way up the path to the woods. I soon overtook the boys, and became the leader. My pace was almost frantic. I suppose I was eager to be alone to wallow.

Halfway through the journey, another pair of footsteps matched the tempo of my own. I sighed to myself, looking down. I did not want to meet those golden eyes that I could feel boring into me, searching for a clue as to why I was acting the way I was. They would not see through me now. Not like this.

Betrayal. Dissapointment.

Those are perhaps the most raw human feelings...they open up our very souls and make us break up, break down and slowly fall apart piece by piece.

What you just read was an excerpt from my book (names and locations were changed for legal reasons, but you got the most of it). For the few years that I've been writing this book, this love triangle has been something I've been anticipating on writing. I knew that my main character, "Elizabeth" had to be in love with "Damon". She always had been. When she was taken away at the age of 10, she never knew if she was going to see "Damon" again. "Ana" was her 2nd best friend at that time. When E returns home, she falls for D again. However, she begins to believe that D & A are really the ones destined to love each other.

For all this time, I've been trying to determine just how to bring on this discovery. The hurt, the anger, betrayal, sadness, disappointment, confusion...all of it had to form one emotion that doesn't really have a name. But we all experience it at some point or other in our lives.

When I started this book and began to plot this scene, I was not experienced enough in the area of love. To tell the truth, I don't quite know what it's all about now either. However, there were experiences these past few years that lead me to understand how Elizabeth would feel.

The first one happened with this boy who became one of my best guy friends over the course of the school year. We were close. We flirted. I fell head over heels and I thought he had done the same. All was right in the world. On the night I thought he was going to officially ask me out, he made another love confession. One for one of my best girl friends. He wanted me to set them up.

I felt like killing myself to be perfectly honest. That year was tough enough, but this just threw me over the edge. All the love that I had pent up inside, ready to share, wound up deflating and turning into that emotion with no words.

The next story happened about a year and a half ago. There was this boy... He was something special. We related on many different levels. It seemed perfect. Except...he lived 700 miles away. I was foolish enough back then to believe that what we called love would surpass that distance. However, we broke up soon. He went out with another girl and I set my sight on one closer to home. We stayed friends.

But the long distance love happened again not 2 months later. This time it lasted quite a while. We grew closer, living for the times when we could talk with one another. Waiting until we could finally be together in the same place (I was supposed to go to a college 10 minutes from him). But when I went to visit that college, and him, he backed out of seeing me. As it turned out, he didn't know if he could truly deal with the relationship at such a close level. That hurt more than the first "love". We broke up, if you could even call it that through the distance, and remained friends for a time before I finally ended all communication with him.

So you see, dear reader, before the first love--when I first started this book--I had absolutely no experience with the pain that this scene would have needed. I knew the feelings of love, even if just kept to myself (that is, afterall, how "Elizabeth" keeps hers). But pain is a far more intricate emotion. It involves multiple facets.

You might make this as an everything happens for a reason post. But what I really take it as is a way to say that writers must take from what they know. What they have experienced. As much as I would love to, I couldn't write about the death of a loved one accurately, because the only relatives I've known who have died, did so when I was too young to have a true relationship with them.

I write what I know in hopes that it becomes more real. Because who really wants to read something made up rather than what we already know and feel?

Literary Contractions

It's quite funny how when you're in the writing mode, inspiration can come from the strangest of places.

Three years ago, when thinking up ideas for a project I wanted to create for my best friend, all it took was a piano player, who was so dedicated to his work that it was positively moving.

Before that, when recreating the idea of Cinderella, it took a documentary of women of the Medieval court.

And even earlier, for my very first full length pet project, a simple line came from the top of my head while I was daydreaming. That one line became the basis for an entire story.

So my current project...the one that has caused me so much joy and grief over the past few years...where did the inspiration come from that?

Cracker Barrel.

Here me out, now. It wasn't the comfort food restaurant itself that provided the inspiration. Rather, it was while I was staring out the window by the table I was sitting at with my parents. A shooting star fell across the sky and it seemed as if something in my mind clicked. I gave a meaning, a name, to that star. And soon an entire story came.

Whilst I cannot reveal the plot of my story (because anything can be public domain on the interwebz) what I can say is that it involves that star.

What brings me to talking about inspiration tonight? The idea actually came across my mind while toiling away at work today. In my hayday of writing, inspiration used to come every few hours, if not closer together. I like to refer to them as literary contractions. They're there for a fleeting moment, and the more you have them, the closer you get to having a baby--in this case, a story of your own making.

Alas, the inspirations were not always that great. In fact, they hardly ever were. My mind would sometimes be concentrating so hard on these, that I forgot to create the world that surrounded it. My old harddrive can attest to all the few paragraph writings that I did, with just a brief explanation or quote of what I had thought about.

A "good" idea came only once in a blue moon. But when it did, it was quite difficult for me to create anything else outside of this world. The literary contractions stopped, and the words began to push.

I started the story I'm currently working on in late 2007 (or maybe sometime in 2008...it's all begun to run together). It was written concurently with the story for my very best friend, being pushed to the wayside while I concentrated on that. Obviously, a great deal of time has passed, and only a couple hundred pages (whilst a great feat) have been written so far.

And I realized today that I haven't had an inspiration since this story began its inception. To me, that makes this story of such a higher importance than I had initially thought.

So my message to all of you? Well, like it's said "anyone can write a blog"... I'm not going to try and retool that to "anyone can write a story" because, to be perfectly honest, that's not true.

What I will say, however, is that, whatever your passion is, whatever makes your heart beat a little bit faster just thinking about...look for the inspiration. If it comes frequently, play with it. And once you have something that sticks, you'll know it.

Pleasant dreams, dearest reader.

--Cici

What's in an Introduction?

They say that anyone can write a blog....

Considering that's how most blogs begin, I assume that it must be true. All around the world, people are using this type of forum in order to express themselves, their ideas, and connect with others around the world. And, now that it's 2011, and I'm probably a minimum of 10 years behind the crowd, I decided that it would be a good idea to start one myself.

Some of you may know me, some of you might not...

If you know me, then you know my name, my personality, and probably what makes me tick. And if you don't then...well, you don't. So I suppose I should explain a little bit about that. My name isn't important. Call me Cici, C, Homeskillz, Shawty, Banks, Tdizzle, Elanor, Bianca, Stephanie...come up with your own if you wish! Not one of these, I assure you, is my real name. Someday I may reveal it, but for now, let's leave it a mystery. If you know me, all I ask is you don't use my name if you comment.

What else...what else...?

I consider myself a funny personality. I make myself laugh at least, which could mean either 1) I really am hilarious, or 2) I'm just a tad bit insane. Or both. Don't expect much, if any, political jargon, etc on this blog. Or any "i'm so lonely, why won't the world leave me alone?" type postings. A little cynicism, perhaps, but I'm just here to be myself.

Currently, I'm in college. Where? My home town of course. But I'll hopefully be moving soon, so don't worry. I'm majoring in Creative Writing & Theatre Arts (because I like to add a little extra stress to my everyday life).

Every month or two, I find myself with a new obsession. This month, it's Bollywood. Yup, Indian (like, from India) movies are basically what makes my heart beat a little bit faster. In the past, it's been things like Victorian-era London, astronomy, the Holocaust, Titanic, airplanes, half-hour sitcoms... Pretty much anything I come across. A few obsessions that I have always had are Disney, musical theatre, and writing.

I hope to work for Disney someday...if that tells you anything about me. As for musical theatre, well, I used to want to be on Broadway (although, I suppose that Bollywood is a good alternative if I learn Hindi). I left that dream behind a few years ago, but the obsession still runs true. And then writing...

You might have noticed that the name of this thing is "Speaking Fiction, Writing Reality". Although it is for an outlet for my currently over-crowded brain, it serves another purpose. Currently, I'm writing what could quite possibly be one of the best books...well, one of the best books I've ever written (see, I've written 3 already, all unpublished). This one is special however. Right now, it's somewhere around 205 pages, 1.5 spacing and growing every time I sit down. I've been working on it for near around 3 years now, though. I'm hoping that I can use this blog to test out ideas for not just that project, but projects to come.

Why not experiment, right?

Well, I've probably used up my word count (oh, wait, blogspot doesn't have one....) or flooded your mind with too much information.

Stick around folks, more will come soon.

-Tdizzle