Friday, September 27, 2013

My epic tale of revenge

Have you noticed that a lot of heroes in stories nowadays are on a huge quest for revenge? Someone or something has murdered their someone or taken their something, and now they're out to get their own back.
Well, today I realized that I'm in the middle of my own epic tale of revenge.
When I was a little girl, a horrible Something stole my grandmother away from me. Now this Something has taken my mother prisoner, perhaps never to be returned.
I am currently in the middle of my training montage.
But the training does not consist of punishing physical tasks or sage advice from an aged mentor. No, my training is going on every day, little by little. I'm learning to use the only weapon that can fight this Something: science.
The montage isn't anything exciting -- it mostly consists of me doing math homework online or reading a book about biology and how it relates to memory. And it's slow going, especially since I haven't been giving my STEM muscles much work until within the past year or two, but I am moving, step by step, toward becoming the perfect Something-fighting warrior:
A neuroscientist.
And someday, when my training is complete, I will track down the Something to its forbidding castle with a band of ragtag scientists, and together we will face down the Something and find its sole weakness. And then a great battle will be joined, the like of which has not been seen for many a year...
And we.
My own life will never be the way it was, but I will have freed others in the future from the Something, and with that knowledge I will find peace.
This is my epic tale of revenge.
It's just starting right now, but someday...
Well, who knows what someday will bring?

Monday, September 23, 2013

Shirtroulette and solemates

After many, many years of being schooled at home, I've just now entered a public school for my senior year. It meets at a community college and you can finish up your high school credits while you take college classes, and it's freeeee!
Unfortunately, since I'm no longer in charge of my own schedule to such a degree, I have to be up and ready much earlier than I'm used to. For the past two months I've been getting dressed in the normal way, picking things out every morning, but I've spent more time deliberating over shirt choices than I really want to spend (and they're not even that different from each other -- "Should I wear the geeky t-shirt with The Princess Bride and physics or the geeky t-shirt with a DeLorean and a TARDIS?").
That fact, combined with a sudden lust for reorganization, led to the creation of shirtroulette.
All of my best t-shirts and tank tops have been rolled up so that they're practically indistinguishable to the touch. I've placed them all in a drawer, and every night I close my eyes, open the drawer, and reach in. Whichever shirt I grab is the shirt I wear, though I'm free to choose from a number of different pairs of jeans to go with it, or even some black pants if I'm feeling creative.
Each night I move the shirts around a bit after selecting so that the selection of a new shirt the next night is a bigger surprise.
I've just implemented this system, and so far I'm pleased with the results. It makes it a lot easier to just pick a shirt and it brings an element of adventure to getting dressed!
Then again, I feel there's an element of adventure to sitting on my desk backwards and putting my feet on my chair, so maybe I'm just very easily entertained. After all, I can personify almost anything and make it into a story. This comes in handy if I'm feeling bored and want to talk to inanimate objects, but it's less handy when it makes me feel empathy for lonely socks.
Last night, when I was putting away my laundry, I discovered that one poor little sock was missing its solemate. I tried not to think too much of it, just set the sock aside and kept putting things away. But then, when I was nearing the bottom of the basket, I found another lonely little sock! With much rejoicing, I held it aloft and cried "Laura, look!  The black sock isn't alone anymore! I found its little friend!"
I'm trying to pretend the lonely black sock in the living room and the lonely white sock in the family room don't exist. Otherwise I'll start imagining their feelings and end up wearing blatantly mismatched socks one day so they won't feel so sad.