Mibba is gone.

Er, mine. That is. And I really didn't think that through fully, because now there's two really good stories that I can't finish reading. Still, no matter. It was eating at my head. And, really, I do that enough myself. I don't need that as well.

A few days ago I added another fragment to my Fictionpress which I am currently to lazy to provide a link for at the moment. (Sorry about that. I'm feeling lathargic, laggard, lazy and sick.) That day, whichever it was, I had finally summited myself to what I believe was my seventh head analysis (er, formally, and not including that bloody CT scan). And to some outcomes that I was not particularly fond.

I was also suffering from the confusion of a former teacher calling me compassionate (which, for me, a jarring and mind halting word) and then accusing me of doing various evils. And so, I had to address that. (By letter, I chose, for I'd had enough confrontation and analysis of my head for the day.) Alas, that was Thursday, I believe. I'm not entirely sure. The letter, I know was. And followed by a long weekend now coming to a close, which means that tomorrow I get to look forward to the response.

Life would be ever so much easier if I was simply a nice person.

My computer seems to have developed an affliction to google.

It does that, all too often. It wouldn't let me reach google -- or anything connected to it, which includes this, for the past week. Of course, eventually it got sick of that and decided not to let me download any stories to Fictionpress as well.

So, I have a story that was never meant to be a story. Something rather short for a one-shot. Smote by Fictionpress until it finally loaded last night and only now can I write this.

I really should just do my homework or read more often. Then maybe I wouldn't get so annoyed.

At any rate, here is All But Alone.

And I am off to finally do my essay before school starts on Thursday.

Back from the treacherous heat of Virginia! (Ooh, don't take that personally if you're from there.)

It really was one of the greatest vacations. We stayed at a plantation of sorts -- The Powhaton Resort -- which, minus the legions of geese and their egestions, was brilliant. And then, just around that my dad got us tickets to Busch Gardens (that one's based on all of the European countries and has some of the greatest rollercoasters I've been on, though I still prefer the Dragster), Water Country USA. Although I'm not really a water person. Well, in a matter of ways. I'm a swimmer, literally, but I can't stand just being in water. Weird. And then Colonial Williamsburg which was, by far, my very favorite.

For those who don't know, Williamsburg was the capital of colonial Virginia. And, funded by Rockefellar Junior, they basically recreated it. They restored the eighteenth century homes and buildings, have reenactments, and everyone who works there is incredibly kind. Not to mention great in their history -- which they do while dressing up like eighteenth century colonists, of course.

I didn't log on just to ramble about my vacation, though. I did also finally finish that story -- or one of them -- that I've been promising you. This one's called Finding Myself and is now located on my Fictionpress. This would be the lesbian story that I so wanted to try out so very long ago. Although, please, don't let that bias you away from it. Aspects of love, as ever with my writing, are subtle.

Alas I'm afraid if you want my opinion, I haven't rewritten it enough and it still churns as rubbish to me, so feedback would be lovely.

Hah, I managed to use the dialogue (in an all dialogue work, no less). Again, typed, not written. Strange month, this: No, Never

Editing, cutting, rewriting, adding. That one-shot I started and promised may just happen yet -- don't hold me to that, though. I'm going away for vacation the last week of this month, out of state. I doubt I'll have internet. And, if I do, I won't use it.

I've been typing these revisions as well -- been an odd month for my writing, it seems -- so no hope of my finishing it out there if I don't finish it before then. Sorry about that. The beginning bits still horrify me, actually. The first two sections -- the original two sections. I can't rewrite them entirely, though. But I'm afraid they may throw away any person who comes to read it. Perhaps if I wrote another snippit to slip in front? But I never write out of order.

It's been in my head, though. So, salvaging...

Oh! Before I forget. I also got another flash of dialogue in my head, no where to place it yet though. (I'm mean, though, saying that, because I won't put it on here. It just doesn't click in my mind to put an unfinished clip somewhere it can be snatched when you can't properly prove it's yours if you use it later.)

It's pathetic the things that get into my mind, really. I've just written a fragment based solely upon the famed Chicken/Egg argument because it fluttered into my head and I couldn't shake it. It's on my Fictionpress, because I couldn't very well just leave it somewhere to rot (and I actually typed it, I didn't write it out in a notebook first like I normally do, which is just odd.) -- It's On You.

And now, thanks to my best friend, I'm itching to buy this book about Russel T. Davies (recreator of Doctor Who and writer of the first four season along with this years specials, for those who don't know of him). Unfortunately, the only place it's in stock is Amazon, and I don't exactly have a credit card -- curse my being under age.

So, considering how I'm an idiot who has too much homework for me to even update what I'm supposed to, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to enter a contest whose formal due date is a week when I'm out of state. Smart, right?

Then again, it's funny the inspiration you get when you do something stupid. And they gave an assigned topic too -- the beach -- which is something that, under normal circumstances I would never, ever, in a million years choose to write about. But it's good for you, you know? Expanding boundaries and all.

And so, I present (written in under two days, so probably a bit sketchy, but I had ideas) Here and Now. However, I'm not providing a link with that. It's posted in two spots: on my Fictionpress as that is where I would normally put such a story and on my Mibba as that is where the runners of the contest prefer it. I have links to both sites on here. I'll leave it to you to choose your favorite, if you wish to read it at all.

And now, I should probably go back to my homework. . .