This post is all about me

Me.  Not you.  Me.  Isn't that wonderful?  But taking about it not being about you is making it about you.  Sooooo.....
I spent the whole entire day playing Harvest Moon, I've been spending a lot of time with that video game, even though it's not really that much fun.  It's more stressful than anything, and me?  I'm all about no stress.  Still, I can't seem to stop playing it.  In the game you're this cute little amine girl who moves to a Island called--- and this is no joke---- Waffle Island.
I know, right?
So, at Waffle Island, you basically just run around trying to start your life as a rancher.  Although there are some very unrealistic parts to the game, such as, the mayor giving you a FREE HOUSE, I don't know why, but it's pretty suspicious, isn't it?  Well, the question as to why is never answered, and five minutes in the game you'll be too stressed out with learning the new map and trying frantically to make money (the only realistic part of the game) to be bothered with Mayor Hamilton's strangeness.  It's a bizarre game, which only makes sense since it's placed in rural China.  Which is incredibly odd, because everything about it screams JAPANESE!!
The only other thing I've been doing today is eating.  Yum.
So, my dad and my two brothers went away for, like, four days and I lost five pounds!  What really bugs me sometimes is how good a cook my dad is, it's like, he makes something and you have to--- absolutely have to--- eat it.  There's no getting around it.  Unfortunately, while my Dad's food is delicious it's also loaded with fat and sugar.  While it was just Mom and me, we ate a pure diet of buttered noodles and strawberries.  It was delicious, small, and quite relaxed.  However, since the rest of my family is back and we have five members to feed instead of two, the meals have actually become family sized.  And I've started eating for two people again, because otherwise, my brother's food goes right to the garbage.  (thank god I have a fast metabolism)
My older brother, is TOTALLY anorexic.  Like, he will not eat anything that is not officially called "junk food".  He won't eat anything healthy, which is so weird, because we're exact opposites that way.   I will only eat sweets if they're prepared in a french restaurant or something of equal standards.  My brother won't eat it if it's not manufactured.
Also, I've started on this really strange series (books, for all you simpletons).  You all know Yu-Gi-Oh, right?  It's that Japanese amine thing with the guy with the weird hair.  I CANNOT get over his hair!  It sticks straight up!  No one's hair is like that in real life, so why do people feel the need to put it in their mange series?  (Mange, for all you nitwits, is super violent teenage porn-o (just kidding) with pictures) Everyone in the series either has a mullet or really big boobs!  (mullet for guys, big boobs for girls obviously)  Still, I can't get enough.
It started out as me watching the abridged series of Yu-Gi-Oh on the Internet (abridged, for all the morons, is like a shorter, fan based, parody)  which is SOO hilarious.  It had me laughing so hard I nearly peed myself loads of times.
Yu-Gi-Oh is all about this really nerdy super small teenage boy who's really wimpy and is picked on a lot, and likes to solve puzzles, his name, obviously, is Yugi.  So, Yugi finds and solves this really old, Egyptian puzzle that no one could solve before, and suddenly he's semi possessed by this really sexy egyptian Pharaoh who's name is Yami, and whenever Yugi's in danger, or about to play a children's card game (WTF, right?) Yami comes out, possesses Yugi's body, makes him grow, like, five feet and then teaches the bad guys a lesson.  Cool, right?  And before, I thought Yu-Gi-Oh was just a new take on Pokemon--- which, if you haven't been paying the slightest attention--- it's not.
The characters in Yu-Gi-Oh are really lovable, although, not entirely saintly all the time, which I kind of like, and the plot is good too.
(Plus, some of the boys are really sexy.  ;) )
Okay, I've written all I have to write for today, so I shall speak no more.

Finally. You're gone.

I've been under the most horrible stress for writing in this blog.  I've had people comment (not in the comment section conveniently placed below, oh no.  You never comment there, it would be a waste of your time apparently, because you could just tell me in person at the next family gathering.  So what's the point in putting it on the computer???  My pride.  That's why.  Being told in person that you're great is fine and all... but it's not permanent.  That's why I want you to put it in the comment section.  So I can use it against you next time I see you.)
Of course, that whole rant was just rendered useless, I now remember.  Because you, my dear relatives, no longer visit this blog, do you?
I can patient.  Patient as a snake.  Waiting in hiding.  That's what I've been doing, by the way.  Waiting to strike.
(All of this time I was not, for example, just being forgetful and lazy and not writing here because I considered it a waste of my time.  I was definitely not doing that.  *Cough, cough*)
I've out waited you for a very specific reason, you see.  Have you noticed that when I started blogging that the blogs were light hearted and fun all around?  And that as soon as my Bear mentioned this blog on facebook, and people actually started coming here that the blogs changed.  Perhaps some of you considered that to be just me, growing as a writer.  BUT IT WASN'T!!!
It was you!  You who pressured me and made me measure my words and work to write a good story!  But I have decided that I don't want to succumb to you and your "high expectations".
So, things will return to there usual rants and demands and paranoia.  Because this is the inside of my head that you're walking on and I will not let you change the landscape of my brain!  (It's a lovely blue color, btw, with huge majestic cliffs like the ones in Ireland, hot Italian boys, it has fluffy black kittens (black to represent my inner goth), cool Egyptian symbols, and adorable amine boys and foxes.  Maybe Japanese boy-fox hybrids.)
Anyway...
Now that I've gotten you out of the way I can talk about whatever I want to and say what I please.  Fuck.  Damn it.  Oh, yeah.  Potty-Mouth Super-Special-Awesome-Bryn-Powers ACTIVATE!!!
(Wow, now I really hope my Bear doesn't read this anytime soon...)
I've just gotten started about talking about how liberated I feel right now.  I can do anything because your not WATCHING!!!   *dissolves into hysterical laughter*  HAHAHAHAH!!!!!
I don't need you.
I don't need adoring fans (though I doubted you ever where adoring).
I don't need admiration and compliments.
I don't need your approval to keep writing.
I'll do as I please with out you.


I was lying to myself.  I do need you.
PLEASE COME BACK TO ME ADORING FANS!!!!

Horror Story 2- Light.

A scream filled the air, at first I didn't realize it, but it was my own.  A whimper escaped my lips, and the pain made the seconds feel like hours.  The pain ebbed and died away just as a light flickered on over the right of me.  Adrenaline swirled through my veins, giving me the strength to crawl to my knees.  That hurt. The pain reminded me of the time when I was six and had jumped from the rafters in the barn, it had been broken then.  I was pretty sure it was broken now too.
         But...  the light.  There was a light now.  A beacon.  I could get home, it wasn't too far away.  It could even mean that Mama's migraine was over.  There was help.  With new determination, I pushed onward to the house.  The lashing rain was a dull buzz now.  Smaller than an annoyance compared to the pain in my ankle.  I focused all my attention to getting to the back door, I didn't even notice the car that had returned in the driveway.  It felt like forever but at last the door was there.  A solid, sturdy old thing that had lived through two generations and such, had gathered almost it's own personality.  My trembling hands fumbled with the smooth handle as it opened it made a old man groan.  Like saying, fine.  Come in and get dry, but don't you even think about trekking that rain water thorough my house, I smiled a little bit at the familiarity of it but then my ankle pulsed in a reminder as to why I was so desperate to get inside.
         "Mama!!"  I yelled dragging my foot in behind me.  "Mama, I need help.  My foot hurts and the cows are missing in the storm!"
         There was a dead ominous silence.  It was a silly thing, silence.  Something you don't put much thought into.  But it was a scary thing too, filled with promises of ugly things that your mind can concur up.  But I was in no mood or shape to hear the warning that the dead house was giving off.
       "Mama?"  I called, this time in confusion.  Even at the most painful, migraines never kept Mama from talking.  If she wanted to talk (which she always did) then she would talk. 
       She's still upstairs, some silly hopeful part of me whispered.  "Mama?"  I called again, feeling a little bit like a lost chick.   
       I dragged myself across the kitchen and to the stairway.  I heard the gentle sobs of someone trying to keep them hidden.  "Mama, are you all right?"
       There was something at the bottom of the stairs.  An unrecognizable lump.  A wet one, too.  Liquid, I was guessing, water pooled around it.  As I drew closer I realized what it was. 
       Not a lump.
      A body.
      Mama's.


How's that for a cliff hanger???  Sorry It's been a while since, I've written anything.  I'm just not in the mood for it so much anymore.  Don't get me wrong.  Writing, I love.  Blogs can get tiresome.  Really, this blog is supposed to be about me, right?  Well, let me tell you one thing.  I get enough of me when I'm not writing.  Plus, the little monkey found a new computer game and has been hogging it every second he can.
      I'll post again soon hopefully.
      Later.

Sunday

Grrr.... Sundays.  I love weekends, really I do.  But Sundays aways are in the middle for me.  Because really there just isn't enough time in the day to do what needs doing.  First, you wake up (or at least you do if you're a teenager) REALLY late because you stayed up all Saturday night then it takes about an hour for you to gather up you senses enough to change into new clothes and shove food into your mouth.  And I always have to go to bed really early, lay in bed for an hour trying to sleep, get up and stall it, wait some more, THEN go to bed.  And in the end, I go to bed round about the same time I do Saturday nights, only it isn't a content murmuring, blissful sleep.  Nope.  Not Sunday nights.  Sunday nights I stress and worry about going back to school until I finally collapse in exhaustion.
ANYWAY, the next half of the story later.  I've been thinking about the cow story a little bit this week and I think the simple stormy Wisconsin story is going to turn into something great.  So, as it turns out there might be a third, even forth, part to the story.  Kay, I'll finish the story later.  But just not today.  I'm too sleepy today.  Or at least that's my excuse.
One more thing, Does anyone care to leave a comment? A compliment or something?  A correction even?  A sassy one-liner, anyone?  Sigh.
My eyes are dropping.  Bye bye.

Horror Stories

The wind whispered warnings in my ear but I didn't pay it any attention.  I had a job to do I couldn't just let the cows go to the mercy of the storm.  Dark ominous clouds thrashed and shuddered as lightning snapped down, eliminating the countryside. 
I toke a deep breath and kept struggling to find the lost herd.  I listened carefully for the deep penetrating moo and watched for the flash of brown and splattered black but my eyes and ears couldn't make out anything besides the roaring thunder and the lashing rain.  I felt desperation swirl deep in my chest, but I shuffled on determinedly.  I stepped tentatively because I didn't want to fall and break my ankle because  knew no one would hear my cries.  No one would come looking either, because Papa was gone with my siblings and Mama having a migraine and couldn't be disturbed.  I doubted Papa knew how bad the storm would be when he left for my cousin's wedding, but he gave me a smile and told me he was confident that I, being the oldest and most responsible, would be fine.  And that the farm had seen worse storms.  He had been wrong.  No one predicted the strength of the storm but now it hit in it's fullest fury.
I stumbled along, wondering if I should turn back and give it up.  Just as I was ready to turn around a sound drifted around the storms howls.  Possibly the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.  Mooing.
  I turned and stumbled towards the sound.  I turned around in circles, expecting to see big brown eyes and a sweet, plump face.   No where.  I was being to think I imagined the sound, until again it came. 
I twisted, following the sound.  
  The ground slipped away under my feet so suddenly that all that came out of my mouth was a strangled yelp.  For a moment I hung suspended in the air then the reality and ground hit me with a bone shattering crunch.  This time a actual scream escaped my throat.  It was drown out by the thunder that shook the ground.   I wondered how long it would be until help came.  If I was going to have to wait the night.  I closed my eyes as the pain flushed.


And THAT is the first part of my Cow Horror Story.  Was it suspenseful?  The beginning was, I think.  The end of that half of the story sort of died down a little bit.  Oh, well.  Can't be perfect ALL the time right?  You know, it's funny, one time we had a guest author come in to talk to us.  It was amazingly cool, it was the author of the books Red Glass, and Starlight.  Mostly it was just cool that we got to meet a author, face to face.  I talked to her and when I told her I wanted to be an author, and she smiled and said, "Cool, what type?"  And I said "I want to write some horror stories and stuff."  And she was like, "What??!! You seemed so bubbly and stuff.  I'm so surprised!"  That's seriously what she said.  It was pretty random.  Do I seem bubbly to you??? I hope not.  That's not really the mode I was trying to portray, y'know?
  Okay, anyway, I'll give you the second half of it later.  Gotta go now.  Later!

Hotwings.

BEST WORD IN THE WORLD?  Fascinating.  So many options to use it in.
BEST FOOD IN THE WORLD?  Hot wings.  They're like the funny mexican guy of the food world.
BEST KNOCK KNOCK JOKE?  HA!!!  Fool!  There IS none!! Knock knock jokes SUCK!!!
Wow, I'm glad I got that off my chest.  I've been feeling so angry tonight, you know??   The little monkey started flinging poo when he came back to the bathroom and the computer game he was on was completely gone and I was playing Tetris.  Apparently he was about to beat thousand something record or something.
Oopsy-daisy.
So he kicked me in the head, the little jerk-face.  I mean, naturally I punched his leg (hard) and we started screeching in fury and wrestling it out.  It was at that moment that the Bear decided to wake up from her slumber.
SAFETY TIP:  Don't poke the sleeping bear.
My little rumble with the monkey man ended pretty quick but I'm still feeling pretty hyped up on adrenaline.  When people use the saying "High on life" do you think they mean it literally???
Is there something that those people know that we don't?  Is there a way to literally get high on life? Hmmm...
Government secrets maybe?
 Or is it just one of those "secrets of life" thingys?
I hope not.  I'd rather have a government scandal.
Catch ya later alligator!!! (Or whatever you are)

Monkeys. Bears. Cranes. Leopards.

Aren't monkeys so cute?  They're like a mix of fluffy little puppy/kitties and babies.  Fluffythingys/babies.  No wonder people love them.  SOO CUTE!!  Sometimes my brother Drew remind me of a monkey.  Sweet innocent little fluffy baby one moment, then throwing poop and screeching the next.

My Mom's the bear.  You ever seen one of those nature shows with the bears and such??  Where it shows great fluffily bears bumbling along, they sort of look like they're grinning sometimes, don't they?  My mom's like that.  The mother bear of the family, which isn't exactly a compliment.  She's ultra strong, impossible to win an arm wrestling match against.  Must come from hauling all those flowers around.

Cal, my other brother, is like a crane.  Really skinny and he has the worst singing voice.  You know how cranes kind of croak when they sing?  My brother's like that, not exactly a bad singing voice but... not good either.  Interesting maybe.  And cranes look like hippies, especially the ones with the the red stripe around it's throat.  Also a bit of a jerk.  Not that that has anything to do with cranes.

Dad's like a leopard.  Quiet, and polite.  Some snide jokes but mostly a quiet and controlled guy.  Except for those rare moments were his temper slips and he yells.  One word.  SCARY!!!  But he's REALLY nice the other 99% percent of time.  I don't know why leopard comes to mind, it just fits.

Me?  Well I don't think I should really be the one to judge that, but it would be a bit unfair to talk about everyone except for me so I'll tell a little about myself.  I have ten fingers and ten toes.  I have a bunch of blankets on me right now 'cause it's so dang cold out!  I'm watching a show about ducklings, DO NOT ASK!!  Urm, what else... I have anger management issues, although you wouldn't guess it first looking at me.  I'm not the most patient person in the world, I get that from the Bear.

I'll catch you later, my faithful readers!
-blog of awesomeness, this is Bryn.  Signing off.
(I got that from a dj)