IMPORTANT NOTICE!

In case you haven't noticed from the lack of posts in the past three weeks, Talking With The Mists is on a temporary hiatus. For various reasons that I won't name here, I won't be updating my blog anytime in the next while. I'm in the middle of many things, including bringing up all my marks, so this misty place will be on pause for an indefinite amount of time. Move on with your lives! Do something useful with the time you usually spend reading me and the Voice's convos! If you don't want to keep checking this page (I'll be updating it with info every couple of weeks or something like that, then send me an email that.misty.place@gmail.com and I'll send you the updates directly.

Thanks for wanting to explore the mists, and I hope you keep reading once it's back up.

Love and harmony to all of you,

MistWeaver

Book time!

MistWeaver: Okey Dokey, first things first. No more apologizing. I've been uncountably busy, blah blah blah... you know the excuses. Basically, am going to try and update fully at least once a week and bully for you if you want more. Hopefully I'll slowly up the entry count as I get more time and settle back into routine.
Voice In The Mist: That's nice, dear. I've missed you.
MistWeaver: Woah, you being nice. Everybody, a moment of silence. You must have really missed me.
Voice: *snorts* More like I've missed your antics. So whatcha been up to, other than play hide-and-go-seek with a bunch of teenage girls you invited to your house.
Weaver: Technically, Rebecca invited them. And much more has happened since then. It's been what, two weeks now?
Voice: Something like that.
MistWeaver: Yup it was, and you are no longer looking at Aya Gabriel, novelist. You are looking at Aya Gabriel, acclaimed novelist and bookseller. That's right. I am sitting in front of 21 copies of my book, and have already sold close to 10. I have also given two seminars in a writer's conference, and been asked for my autograph.
Voice: Busy gal, you are. So tell me, how did you come to speak in a writer's seminar and get your book published?
Weaver: First off, it's not published. I just got it professionally bound at Kinko's. But it sure looks nice enough. Secondly, the conference thingie was called Write Off The Wall, and it was at my brother's school. But there were many other published authors there, and I was invited to speak. The day before the big event, Kai informed me tha ti could sell my novel there if I wanted, so the night before was spent frantically printing and binding copies of the novel by hand. I was so exhausted I couldn't think, and Mama majorly saved my butt by coming home late with 9 finished and bound copies of my book from Kinkos. It was all I could do not to fall on my knees and kiss teh ground she walked on in thanks. I was able to go to bed in peace.

Crap. I really hate doing this again, but I have to go after our new dog, Whiskey. Indeed, I do have much to report! I swear to Earth I'll finish this tomorrow.

MistWeaver

The Estrogen Attacks

Voice In The Mist: I've noticed that there's been longer and longer gaps between entries.
MistWeaver: You're right. I just haven't really had much time lately. But now I do, and I have much to say. Like for instance, I can say that I am freaking sick to death of estrogen, and females in general right now.
Voice In The Mist: Why's that?
MistWeaver: The same reason people generally get sick of something. Overload.
Voice In The Mist: Whaddaya mean, overload? It's not like you're the most popular cica on the planet. In fact, I seem to remember you as having few friends, most of which were guys.
MistWeaver: I do have few friends and they are guys. Except somehow in the past while I"ve picked up Blair and Amber and Tash and Tori and Alex and they're all in my TV room!
Voice In The Mist: What on Earth are they doing there?
MistWeaver: See, every once in a while the Group has a movie fest. They're usually randomly thrown together and very last minute. This time, Rebecca made us sit down and plan it out a few days beforehand. Since I have the biggest TV, the most movies and the coolest parents, it was decided that this gathering would be held at my house. A 24-hour long brain rot festival. 5 PM to 5 PM. I took advantage and invited Alex, whom I hadn't seen for ages. At Rebecca's urging, I also invited Ryan, who (unsurprisingly) couldn't make it. And now they're all in my TV room.
Voice: Why aren't you with them, then? After all, it's your party.
Weaver: Actually, it's Rebecca's party. It just happens to be at my house. And there is much drama associated with this party, in any case. Let me tell you the story...

Firstly, Rebecca came over after school on Friday for Girl's Night In. She stayed overnight, we had fun, she got picked up on Saturday. When her mother came to pick her up, Becs told me that she'd see me tomorrow and her mother interupted with a "Tomorrow! I'm not sure I want to drive you back out here tomorrow!". Becs had been afraid of this, but she'd asked her mother beforehand and her mother had said that it was fine (stupid crazy bitch). So that level of uncertainty was now thrown into the party. All the same, I went to bed, did more laundry, woke up and prepared for the upcoming people.

Now, I can see the wheels in your mind turning. Why didn't Becs just stay over the extra night and save two or three twenty-minute trips into the city?

The answer lies in her cat. Apparently, Zues can't go two full nights without her. Personally (and I know that when she reads this, she's going to go all defensive and list off the reasons why she's right) I think that she's, to put it bluntly, full of crap. Maybe she can't go two nights without her cat, but he seems to survive just fine without her, no matter what she says. Maybe she's just afraid of what her family will do to him. In any case, although I love Becs dearly, she tends to dramaticize.

Anyways, back to today.

Around 2, the calls started coming. First was Blair, wanting directions. I had been expecting this, so I gave her the directions and went back to the book I was reading. Then came Nat and Amber, wanting the same. I provided them the instructions and was just finishing up when guess who beeps in on the other line but Rebecca?

I had been expecting her to call for almost a day. It turned out that she was calling on behalf of Nat and Amber, who had been bugging her because they didn't want to have to call. I told her that I'd just hung up with the people in question, so she m

Uh oh. They're found me. I'll hopefully sneak away again later and continue.

Broken Hearts, The Cursed Name, And Why All Men Are Total And Complete Scum.

I'm sorry, but at the request of a friend this post has been deleted.

Suffice to say that Valentine's day fucking sucks more than you could imagine, it's now been ruined for one of it's biggest supporters (not me, duh), and that all guys are total and complete scum.

Especially narrow-minded ones.

MistWeaver

Broke Hearts and Such

MistWeaver: You know what fricking sucks?
Voice In The Mist: Valentine's day?
MistWeaver: No, Val--. Oh. Yeah. But do you know why it sucks?
VitM: Because it's a corporate holiday made up by companies that don't think that they get enough money between Christmas and Easter and use people's emotions to turn them against each other and bring in lots of dollars?
MW: No. It sucks because I'm a stupid sap.
VITM: Don't tell me you actually like all the stupid cards and chocolate-giving and valentines and stuff?
MW: *is silent*
VITM: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU STUPID SAP!
MW: Aw, shaddup. I'm a sucker at heart. I think that Valentines are adorable (especially those kiddie ones and the handmade ones), chocolates are yummy, and I happen to think that one frigging day of the year where being mushy and sappy is acceptable isn't necessarily a bad thing.
VITM: Then what's the problem?
MW: Watching everyone else get those kiddie valentines, handmade valentines, chocolates, and mushy and sappy stuff.
VITM: Awww... Feeling lonely, are we?
MW: Yes, if you must know. It's depressing to hear about stuff like how Becs' brother is going all-out to ask out this cica (I mean all out-- Chocolate roses and dinner and a pottery class "all out"), how she herself is finally working up the courage to ask out whoyamacallit, how Bri and Leni are both most likely getting those Crush things, etc. And how everyone who isn't involved in any way with Valentine's Day claims that it's just a stupid corporate scam. Which is true. But that doesn't mean that there aren't good things about it.
VITM: You're right, that is interesting, isn't it? It's all the people who don't have Valentines who are always dissing it. And the people who want Valentines but hold no hope for them.
MW: Bah. Whatever. I suppose my irritability also has something to with being here. I haven't really been super happy since I got back. Things just keep getting more and more crappy here. Everyday I feel like there's less and less holding me to this place. One day, I'm just going to leave and not look back.
VITM: But what about Becs? And Ryan? And your family?
MW: Well Becs wants to get out of here nearly as much as I do (although she doesn't feel the same driving need, the calling that I do... as if somewhere else is calling me...), and Ryan...
VITM: Ryan...?
MW: He can visit... or I can visit... But I just can't stay here. Meh, this is getting depressing. I'm tired. Bedtime. Or reading time. Or Zelda time. Or whatever.

The Mental Conversation

MistWeaver: Okay, bad pun. But I couldn't resist.
Voice In The Mist: I take it that you mean mental as in mind, not mental as in insane?
MW: Precisely. More specifically, I mean my running mental commentary on all that happened after rehearsal today... Ryan's house, and Youth Group.
VITM: Ah, yes. Wednesday. Always an interesting day. Do tell.
MW: You should know first off that Ryan's sick. And when I say sick, I mean really sick. And not sick in the head, either. I mean the kind of sick that keeps you in bed with pain and doesn't let you eat and makes people want to cuddle you and make you better.
VITM: It's times like these that I wish I could raise an eyebrow at the last comment.
MW: I fall victim to strange motherly urges. They are often activated by sickness. I feel these really really strong urges to take care of them and make them feel better.
VitM: So have you turned these urges on Ryan as of yet?
MW: I've been tempted... boy, have I been tempted... But let me start at the beginning.

After rehearsal today, I was going to be picked up as usual and driven to either Youth or Ryan's, depending on whether or not he was well enough to go. I called him up and he said that he was still sick and not going anywhere, so I wanted to go over to his house and bring him some get well stuff. He claimed that he already had Gatorade though, and since I had fallen asleep while finishing up my Broken Wings Yoko Edition the night before, and wasn't done it, that pretty much eliminated all the other things I could think of. Specially since he won't drink tea on his own and his parents were there, so I couldn't work my magic on him.

Let's skip ahead to getting out of the car. This is basically where my internal running commentary kicks in.

I get out of the car, thinking "Uh oh, I hope he's well enough to answer the door." Then thinking, "On second thought, no! Don't answer the door! It will cause you pain to get up and make effort!"

He answered the door, to my combined relief and regret.

Boy, did that boy look a lot better than I do when sick. His eyes and nose weren't a different colour, and his hair was unbrushed and unruly, but not the horrible fright that mine would have been, all flat on the sides and standing straight up on top. He was wearing PJs, but they only looked wrinkly, not like they'd been rolling in bad things. Tired, moving kinda stiffly, voice all nasal... There was no doubt that he was sick. Just not unattractively sick. The bastard.

So I follow him in, suddenly at a loss for what to do. He sits on one couch, I sit on the other and drop my stuff... ask him the usual questions... You know, "Feeling any better?" "Have you figured out what's wrong?" "Have any strange body parts turned funny colours and fallen off?"... and then am at a complete loss of what to do.

Normally, I have my own special love and care for sicklings. It involves giving them the proper care they deserve. You see, I have this thing about taking care of people. As in, you SHOULD. How the hell are you supposed to get better if you have to tuck yourself in, make yourself tea and soup, hold your own dick when you pee...

VITM: Okay, I think you're going just a teeny bit too far.
MW: Perhaps you're right. But still, you get the picture.

In any case, I have a habit of trying making the sick as stress-less and effort-less as possible. But I can't do things like that if I don't have the power to do so. Within my own home, I do. Hell, even at other people's houses, if we're alone, I have that power. Unfortunately, I didn't there, because his parents were home. Oh, well.

Anyways, so we're sitting and talking. Inwardly, I'm thinking about how uncomfortable this is, how he should really be resting, not expending energy to be nice to me... But at teh same time, I don't want to leave. I mean, just hanging out with Ryan is always a blast, and I only see him once a week, usually.

So we end up talking about Zelda. Hey, fine with me. Zelda's teh best game in the flipping world. And then he suddenly jumps up (or as close to jumping as he was gonna get) and runs downstairs, warning me not to follow him and that he had somethign to show me.

I obeyed him and sat there on the couch. He probably shouldn't have been running up and down stairs, but if he was well enough to manage it, it could only be a good thing. Besides, it wasn't like there was much I could do about it.

He came back clutching one of those Canada notebooks everyone has used at some point in their lives. It turned out to be an old picture-journal from when he was little. All about... guess what!... ZELDA!'

Awww... It was so adorable... He couldn't spell

I'm ba-a-a-ck!

Voice In The Mist: Where have you been, young lady? I've been very worried about you!
MistWeaver: I've been worried about me, too. So much has happened that it's no longer even funny. First and foremost, I apologize. The internet was down a long time. I barely survived it. I would just sit there, twitching... wondering when it would be back up... The only reason I'm still here is the trip to Vancouver.
Voice in the Mist: Vancouver? When did this happen?
MistWeaver: Well... I got back last night. I went there Friday morning. To visit Kurt. I'm not sure if I mentioned it before the net messed up.
VitM: Nor am I. It's been too long. A week and a half or so since last entry, and longer since a truly meaningful entry.
MistWeaver: Yeah. A week and a half is forever for us teenagers. And I've been so dratted busy. Which is why I'm sorry to say that this entry isn't gonna be the biggie catcher-upper, either. I'm in the middle of a rather important conversation and am exhausted to boot. Soon though. I promise.

MistWeaver

The Earth is our Mother, she gives and she takes...

MistWeaver: Just a quick update before I go in to do my test.
Voice In The Mist: Hopefully followed by a longer one afterwards?
MW: Hopefully.

Okay, so here's the deal. I have my Social Studies final exam in an hour. Because it's exam week, I don't have school unless it's exams, so I'm leaving to be driven into my exam in about 10 minutes.

My greatest fear: That I fail this test. Or just barely pass. Why? Because a lot of my mark rests on this test. And Mr Morris, my teacher, is well-known for giving super hard and/or deceptively easy tests. That you do badly on, no exception. Unless you're Monica or Cullen. Then we hate you.

I try really hard, but I can't seem to do that great on my tests no matter what. It's even worse for essays. I listened to the comments on the last one and tried really hard to improve. And I thought that I had, until I got back my essay and realized that I did worse than before.

And all last night and this morning I was plagued with worries and random bad thoguhts, centering on the idea that I would miss or be late for my final, at 1230. I also had straneg dreams last night, but they didn't have anything to do with the test. They did contribute to my lack of sleep, however.

*sigh*

Anyways, so I'm a lot more calm now than I was earlier. This is in part to copious amounts of tea, Ryan, studying, Ryan again, and Within Temptation. Becs helped too, but it was more by making me feel bad for being so unconfident.

Thanks to Ryan and the song NeverEnding Story by Within Temptation, I realized/remembered that one test isn't the center of my life. It doesn't matter how important it is. My Mother is still the Earth.

Since I'm running short on time, I'll just copy what Ryan said and complete the rest later.

Ahhh don't have time. Just got bombarded with good news. Ttyl.

MistWeaver

The Wounded Soldier

Voice In The Mist: I think I'll cut to the chase and just ask the question we all want to know. Why on earth do you have toilet paper wrapped around your head? And where's your hair?
MistWeaver: It's kinda glued to my head by the bleach.
VITM: Well, that explains the odd colour. But why the toilet paper?
MW: You'll have to ask Mama about that one. She's the one who wrapped it around the base of my scalp. I suppose the coconut-oil thingie isn't enough to keep the bleach from burning my skin. Hence the picture in which I look like a wounded soldier in the army.
VITM: So what colour is your hair gonna be?
MW: Oh, it'll be white after the bleach, I imagine. But I'm gonna tye-dye it blue. Interesting idea, really. But I shall say no more on the topic of blue, so as not to jynx it.
VITM: Suit yourself. Isn't it kinda late to be bleaching your hair? I mean, it's nearly 1 30 AM.
MW: Nah, Mama and I are night owls. I bleached Inga's hair at 2 am over teh summer, and it turned out fine...
VITM: You two are insane. But let's move on. How was your day?
MW: Excellent! I scored two movies and food, not to mention a new book that I thought wasn't coming out for another couple of months.
VITM: Do tell. What movies didja see?
MW: Well first off we saw "Racing Stripes" with Papa. That's the one with the zebra who wants to be a racehorse. It's got a lot of cool voices, like Whoopi Goldberg, Frankie Muniz, David Spade...
VITM: Was it any good?
MW: It was okay. It was an interesting story, and quite entertaining/funny, but it could have been much better done. The animation, that is. The style it was done in was all real live people and animals, but the animals could speak and there were two computer-animated flies.

Whoops, time to wash out ze hair. Latah!

MistWeaver

Have Mercy On The Tired One!

Voice In The Mist: Where have you been?
MistWeaver: Busy.
Voice In The Mist: But isn't school over for the semester? Shouldn't you have no work, for once? Wait... You're not telling me that the grand Weaver of mists was actually studying?
MistWeaver: Don't be ridiculous. I've been busy with non-scholarly concerns. Wednesday, I didn't get home until really late. I think today's Thursday, and I wasn't home all day, either. Mama woke me up early and we had to go see the therapist.
VITM: Therapist? uh oh, what have you done?
MW: Nothing! Nothing at all!

*glances nervously from side to side*

VITM: I somehow don't believe you... But no matter. I shall confront you about it when you don't look so... listless. And when the bags underneath your eyes are a little smaller than baseballs...

Adieu!

MistWeaver