Recently, I scratched my knee in a very elegant attempt at jumping a broken fence. Yes, I realize I sound like a seven-year-old, but sometimes you’ve got to indulge the child within and do something a little foolish. Cindy-Lou insists that I should never jump another fence because I only ever get hurt in the process.

Anyways, I was examining the lovely scab I have now attained and it runs over an old scar. Now, I can’t for the life of me remember where I got this scar from. It’s quite large and must have been a hell of a cut, but where the hell did I get it from? Then I started examining my skin, and noticed a lot more scars that I couldn’t remember the origins of.

This led me to the thought that my skin has a memory all its own. It has a life linked and connected with mine, but I don’t share its memories. I felt like I was looking at a roadmap of my life that I couldn’t read or comprehend.

Each scar is an event, a place on the map where something vital or painful happened and I can’t understand it. Sure, there are some places on my map that I can remember vividly, like my surgery scar. But others, nicks and scraps, escape me.

We have our own roadmaps to our lives and our memories are so limited that we can’t even remember how to read them. But, no matter how many stops we have on our roadmaps we’re still beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the “scars are so sexy” type. No, I mean that no matter how many imperfections, indentations, blemishes, and scars appear on our person it’s just a testament to who we are. Our stories are written on our skin, and I for one think that nature can make such beauty after destruction, even if it’s the destruction of a few skin cells.

I’m proud of every scar on my body. I learnt something from each one and even if I don’t remember it I’m sure I no longer walk on wet logs or run on a wet pool side for a reason.


A little update on my life…

So, I haven’t been blogging that much over the past month. “What the hell could possibly be keeping her from that keyboard?!” Some of you may be wondering, or not. I’ll give you an update none-the-less.

This month has been interesting.

I had planned to move out of my parents house in an attempt to become an adult to some minor degree. I had found a place to sublet, but it fell through. The landlord being the delightful man that he is did what he could to gain from the subletting transaction, all within the law (the sneaky bastard), and so the subletter could not afford to leave. Well, you could imagine the stress this left on me.

Even though I was not, nor am I still, at any point obligated to leave my parent’s house, I was determined to find a place to live by August. Why? Well, I’ve told myself this is something I need to do for myself. I’ve not afraid of money, getting, using, or losing it. There’s so much money in the world and if I try I end up making some no matter what I try to do, so money doesn’t scare me off, in any form.

So, I pressed on. I was determined to find the place where I would spend my final 2 years of university, plugging away at my degree. Craiglist shown a light of hope on me. After contacting many sketchy people I found a light. I found a little basement suite, just enough for one. I called, they answered. Within a half-hour I was at the door of this little place checking it out. The landlords, who live right above were some of the nicest people I’ve encountered in some time. They told me they’re review my application.

And the waiting game began. I hate waiting for things. I have patience, but not a lot. And so I danced with anxiety and hope for three days. Then anxiety dipped me, and hope caught me when the phone rang. I got it!

So now, it has been a scurry of getting all that I’ll need to live on my own. It’s expensive already and I haven’t even paid rent yet!

Another reason I haven’t found time to sit down in my chair to do some clickity-clacking on my little black keys, is school. Hey, I have online classes. I’ve been putting them off because there has been some gorgeous weather and since I never go outside, I decided I might try it. Thus, school was put off. Now I have one week to do 6 weeks of readings, a final paper, and 4 assignments. Procrastination got me again! He always does.

Reason three, work. I work, but I’m looking for more work because I can live off of what I make now, but not as comfortably as I’d like, so I am searching for more work. I hate job hunting with every fibre of my being, but I do it. Later today, I may even harass some employers for work.

Well, there you have it, my excuses for not posting enough! Well friends, I’ll try and keep it up. This hectic life should settle down a touch after I finished moving-in to my new place as of August 2nd, and some how managed to get through my exams finishing on August 13th.

Maybe then I can focus on developing a super-power to bend time at my will!

Impostor! I knew it!

As I continue my venture into the Shadow Children series by Margaret Peterson Haddix, Among the Impostors is my second triumph. As I mentioned before, when I finished Among the Hidden I was weary about starting its sequel. But whatever Haddix seemed to lack in the first, she more than made up for in it’s sequel. 

I finally felt a sense of agency! Yes, things happened! They were stressful! I felt anxious! (I feel that the exclamation points are necessary here). I even felt for Luke, the main character, something that was lacking in Among the Hidden

Even though this book never ventured far from the setting of Hendrix’s School for Boys, it was an enjoyable book. The bland setting countered the extreme anxiety and self-doubt that was clear in Luke, something I clearly remember feeling at a twelve-year-old, although not the extent of Luke’s character. I never had to worry about getting killed for existing.

I was a little disappointed at the end, although Luke found strength in himself he didn’t know he had and matured it seemed that his final decision was a step in the wrong direction. At least he should have attained more information than just saying “No.” I could be wrong, it’s happened on occasion, but I’ll only find out once I read the next book in the series, Among the Betrayed. 

This book is a good quick read, unfortunately you wouldn’t quite understand it without first reading Among the Hidden.

Sisterhood of the World Blogger Award – Me?

My loveliest and dearest friend, writer of Lea At Sea, has nominated me for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award! Well, naturally I’m flattered and the fact that I haven’t had much time to post lately makes it a wonder that she thought of me. But anyhow, thanks so much!

Rules of the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award

  • All recipients need to thank the giver
  • Post 7 things about yourself
  • Pass the award on to 7 other bloggers of their choice and let them know that they have been nominated.
  • Include the logo of the award in a post or on your blog

And my nominees are (drum-roll if you please!):

writer in the water 

Tea Leaves and Dog Ears

Nerd Girl Chic


Gypsy Death And You.

The Librarian that doesn’t say Shhh

Lea At Sea (Even though I know she already has it, but she’s just that awesome)

Here are seven things about me you may not know!

1 – I have a very creepy picture that says “Barrel of Laughs” on it, which depicts an actual barrel with masks of the original Joker’s smile. I love it.

2 – I have trouble living without a furry animal in my home… and I’m about to move into a place where I can’t have one for 6 months, if at all.

3 – When I write stories, I write them because I need to get them out of my head before they consume me.

4 – I imagine myself having conversations with my characters.

5 – I always wonder if I was put into the difficult situations of characters I read about if I would survive. I usually tell myself I’d find a way, but deep down I think I wouldn’t.

6 – I doubt myself, even when logically I know I have no reason to. I’m trying to get over that.

7 – I rarely, if ever, identify with people my own age, mainly males. Sorry guys, I try but it just doesn’t work.

They were Hidden alright.

So, a few days back I finished Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix. So, after many years of wanting to read this book again, since I had in seventh grade I finally did. It’s a very quick read.

ImageMy initial reaction was disappointment, I remembered there being more action, more thrills. But, that could have just been my over-active 13 year-old imagination that I remembered. I also found that the emotion didn’t quite show through. Haddix wrote it down but I couldn’t seem to feel it as the characters, like I usually do. It’s as if that final push in the writing that je ne sais quois that brings a reader into the story, sympathizing and relating. It was teetering on the edge, I could almost feel what Luke, the illegal third child and main character, was feeling but it felt, for lack of a better word, flat. As I delve into the sequel, Among the Impostors I’m already feeling that Haddix is closer to getting Luke’s emotions across.

As it stands on its own Among the Hidden is very anti-climactic. It’s basically all the information you need to understand, Among the Impostors. If I had not known there was a sequel, I would have thought it was a terrible book. I think it would have been better as a Part One combined with Among the Impostors. Both books are under 200 pages, so my thinking is that originally it was one book, but the publishers, in all their wisdom, decided to break it up because this novel’s target audience is about 12, an audience that would not have the longest attention span. Also, by breaking it up there are more books to buy, hence more money. Oh publishers, I know what you’re scheming.

Anyways, if you decide to delve into Among the Hidden, be prepared to delve into the whole Shadow Children series, because if you don’t you will be highly underwhelmed.

And may the odds be ever at your disadvantage.

So, I did it. I finished The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. It’s one of the few times I’ve finished a best selling series relatively on time.

I decided to read The Hunger Games in anticipation for the movie, knowing I wouldn’t be able to read the book if I’d seen the movie first so I willed myself to get through it quickly.

It was a unique idea, not the post-apocolyptic dystopia of course, but the idea that the death of youth was simultaneously a punishment and entertainment, not necessarily original, but unique none the less. The time it took for the book to actually get to the arena was a little bit drawn out. A lot of it just felt like filler to make the book longer. But it ended leaving the reader anticipating more. President Snow became a villain you love to hate.

As I moved on to Catching Fire I had my doubts, because sequels are usually the explanation book, less action more detail. I found myself thinking constantly that I was reading a mesh of A Brave New World with the Capitol as the civilized world and the districts as the god-fearing savage lands, only the “god” they feared was really just the Capitol, and 1984. Only, these too combined were slightly dumbed down and presented in shiny packaging for youth with a relatable character to rally around. I also found Katniss’s character remarkable inconsistent. I realize that she was supposed to be unstable, but she kept jumping back and forth from stable to unstable, to dysfunctional, to highly functional, which I found to be very unrealistic and forced. Either she’s traumatized or she’s handling it like a pro, pick on would you Collins?

And finally, after finishing Mockingjay literally moments ago, I found that the inconsistency of Katniss began to reflect in Gale as well. Gale values life, but then he doesn’t. Over and over. Katniss, although more stable during battle at the end seems to clear up just in to time make a world-altering decision and then retreats back into her traumatized state… convenient. You could argue that Collins kept us up to date on what was going on inside Katniss, but I didn’t feel like her thoughts were enough to motivate the actions that followed. But that could just be me… apparently a lot of people loved the trilogy.

If you disregard these discrepancies then The Hunger Games Trilogy will be a lovely escape into a world far worse than your own.

Apparently this summer I’m delving into the dystopia genre pretty hard. I’m going to attempt The Shadow Children series by Margaret Peterson Haddix. I read the first as a seventh grader for school, but I remember the story always seemed just a little more than I could understand so here I am venturing back into this broken society as an adult, or whatever version of an adult I may represent at this point.


I’m not light, in any sense of the word.
For the longest time I tried to be light, but I kept reverting to what I am, and it is not light.

Light, airy, fluffy… none of these equate.

Light, bright, luminous… nor do these.

Light, illuminate, comprehend… not likely.

I am not light. I do not brighten, I am not airy, I do not help comprehension.

I am dark, I am heavy, I am confusing. I am not light.

No matter how hard I attempted to be light, to allow it to come through me and shine, I just came back to me, to intertwined and unhinged.

I did everything I could to be light, to be what they looked for, to be what they wanted.

I couldn’t be light. I am not light.

But, if I’m not light, what am I?

I am many things, but do they have a definition that encompasses all of it?

It’s not light.

I know that I’m not light.

I know what I am not, but that doesn’t make me know what I am.

Will I ever know?

All I know is that I am not Light.

I guess I’ll start from here.