Rick-rack and patriotism...

My current NaNoWriMo soundtrack: Record 1 of "The Swing Years" and "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" soundtrack.

We have a ton of tiny little clover around our house, and I love the way the rain looks on it. Like something from a fairy tale. Speaking of fairy tales, I didn't exactly start NaNoWriMo with no plot or characters. I remembered a Rapunzel retelling that I started years ago, so I've started with that idea again.

I'm rather ashamed to say that fall has slipped away from me. Here it is, nearly gone, and I didn't get any good pictures or anything. Things are so busy with school and stuff. We haven't even been on our yearly trip to the mountains yet. We're going Saturday, but I'm afraid that all of the leaves are gone. The leaves looked so lovely and alive on the trees, but now they're so pitiful and dead, rotting on the ground. It's sad. But good grief, I don't mean to sound so melancholy.

We had a good Halloween. Our bonfire, marshmallows, and hay ride got rained out, but the tacos and Wii made up for it. Someone left a Mario Party game in it, which is so much more fun than Wii Sports. Excuse the grumpy frown on my face, but I was probably in last place at this point and it was no laughing matter (I managed to get in first, just before the Wii mysteriously cut off. Halloween mischief?). Yes, I obey the rules and wear the wrist strap.

Here's my outfit! I made the poodle skirt and the neck scarf (with the evil chiffon, it took nearly as long as the skirt did). I love rick-rack. It's seriously like my new favorite thing. I should probably start using it on everything. The poodle has rhinestone eyes and a rhinestone collar, so don't be jealous. Ignore the fact that I look very wide, with no definable waist, in this picture. The sweater I had to wear was very short and wide, thus making my torso look so. Also ignore the weirdness of my feet. You can't see my cute black vintage clutch that my mom found for me very well.

So...NaNoWriMo. It's very stressful! Notice I'm using an overabundance of contractions in this post, because I have forbidden myself from using them in my story. Of course, it makes everything sound awkward, but that's okay. It adds to the word count in a wonderful way. My writing is terrible. The dialogue is forced and cheesy. Oh, well. I'm writing a novel. And Charlotte (my Rapunzel) is going to be sort of like me...minus the long, blonde hair. Prince Henry is amazing, everything you could ever want in a guy (and trust me, I need that after the many disappointing goofs I'm exposed to at school every day). I am drawn only to writing fairy tale stories, for some reason. I am so completely out of touch with today's culture that I could never write a modern story. Unless it was very autobiographical, about a girl who loved old music and movies. It would be fun to be able to make Frank Sinatra and classic movie references in a book. You can't exactly do that in a fairy tale, especially when the girl's been confined to a tower for her whole life.

Here's a little hint. Never, ever buy new books during the month of November. You will start reading them, no matter how strong your will power. Because they look so tempting sitting there on your desk and they smell so nice when you open them. Don't visit the library or even enter a store that sells books. Not even Target, but especially not Barnes and Noble. I have bought three new books over the past week or two. Not to mention the Jane Austen biography I put aside to start "Just Between You and Me," by Jenny B. Jones. I can't stop reading it just for Connor. I've always loved the name "Connor" anyway (it's sort of ironic that when I started my story three or four years ago, Prince Henry's name was Connor), and this Connor makes my heart pitter-patter. The ballroom dancing lesson reminded me of the dancing scene in Pride and Prejudice (2005), a couple trying to resist each other and pretending to dislike one another, throwing witty banter back and forth. How will it end? I can hardly put it down, no matter how much I keep reminding myself, "You've got your own story to write! You've got to answer those two questions for CHD 120! You've got to write a thesis research paper and research why television can be harmful for children! You've got to read your Bible, write in your journal, and take a bath! You've got to watch 'Dancing with the Stars' at 9:00! " In my college success skills class, we learned about "thieves of time." A good book is a serious thief of time in my hands. But I mean that in the best sort of way, Jenny B. Jones.

In other news, guess what?

This was the first year that I could vote. I missed it last year by 6 months, unfortunately. I was feeling slightly nervous about this new experience, when my dad goes into this James Stewart/"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" thing. I said, "I'm sort of nervous." My dad says, "Think about this. People have died to give you the chance to do what you're about to do. Voting is..." and he continued on. I said, "Okay, Mr. Patriot." Don't get me wrong, I have the highest respect and gratitude for those who have given me the chance to vote. Me and Dad were just joking around. When we left the convienence store where we voted, my mom said, "I should have brought the camera! This is your first vote!"

Until next time,
Kristin (missvintagegirl)