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Today begins my journey of writing 100 words per day on this site. I will write a little bit per day, via this site and others, until my mind is teeming with ideas that I just can't put my pen down. I want to create poetry and short stories, but my ultimate goal is to write a novel, a goal that I've had for ten years. It may take me another ten or twenty or even fifty years, but eventually I will print out each page of my novel while my heart bursts with happiness at a dream come true.
I had a rough day. Marie, my human familiar, told me she was going on vacation to Italy without me. Can you believe it? Without me! She took me to her friends' place. I do love exploring, but I smelled another cat there. I love meeting new felines, but Bean didn't like me. She hissed and growled and guarded the doors so I couldn't explore. The humans yelled and sprayed me with water when I went on the counters to escape Bean. I was so upset that I peed on my favorite blanket. How embarrassing. I want to go home.
Today wasn't much better. Bean still hates me. The humans sprayed me with water again, and they shut the door so I couldn't sharpen my nails on the couch or investigate the smells on the counters. But I showed them! I opened the door anyway. I jumped, turned the knob, and pushed the door open. Then I just sauntered in the room, but as soon as Bean saw me she chased me back to the bathroom. I've been sitting on the dryer since. At least the humans bought me a new litter box. No way am I sharing with Bean!
I almost got my revenge today. Bean thought she'd drive me out of the bathroom, my only sanctuary so far, but I had enough of her bullying. She hissed at me, so I hissed right back. I swiped my paw at her to keep her away. I cornered her behind the washing machine, jumped up, and tried to attack from above, but the human girl stormed into the bathroom with the spray bottle and chased me away before I could show Bean what happens when you mess with me. At least they learned not to shut the doors on me.
I had a good day. I think Bean's starting to like me. She only hissed at me a few times today. I explored the house at my leisure (no closed doors for me!) and even slept on the bed today. Bean lay on the floor. I think she's realized that I'm the boss now. I saw Bean eat my food, but I don't mind because I ate some of hers. Tasty! The humans love me now. I sat on their laps and lazed in the windows and let them pet me. Things are looking up. I still miss Marie though.
I chased Bean around the house today. It's nice to play with other cats. At home, I only have a dog to keep me company, besides Marie of course. Maybe Bean could visit me at home! It's fun to chase and wrestle with her. We can even laze in the sun within five human feet of each other. I started using her litter box today to let her know we can be friends. I don't think she minds. Well, I'm going to go play with her catnip pillow. Maybe afterward I can convince the humans to give me my treats.
Never again! Bean and I were getting along great, so I tried to show her some affection, but she attacked me! I'm missing tufts of fur from her claws and teeth. I fought back until the human woman sprayed us both with water and chased me into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. I opened the door once to escape, but she put me back in the room and locked it! She let me out later, but I'm still so mad! Luckily, Marie arrived and took me away from Bean, that vile creature. I'm so happy to be home.
We watched Binx, the cat whose diary took up the last six days, for about a week in August. It made me rethink owning two cats at once. My husband, Michael, asked if we could get a miniature pig instead. I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen, especially since we live in an apartment.
I'm so hungry right now that there'd be no scraps left to give to a pig. We've needed to go grocery shopping for several days now, but with my husband's horrible work schedule and my lack of driver's license, my stomach has grumbled all week.
I dreamed that I was a student in high school and that my teacher Irene was being targeted by some unknown, yet dangerous person with a lot of men at his/her disposal to use to assassinate Irene. One of the men fiddled with the lockers, including mine, that we assumed they had bombs in them. Irene, a male teacher I assume is her boyfriend or husband, and I escaped in his car and went to one of my relative's places. A man arrived with a package for Irene that's empty, but he attacked with a deadly spray. I ran.
I'm not very creative today. Actually, I'm feeling sick. I hope my stomachache goes away. I finally slept for a full 8 hours (I woke up a few times but went back to bed), but now I have to deal with stomach issues. I blame it on the beef jerky my husband made, but he thinks it's all in my head. He had the meat sitting in the fridge for almost a week before he finally dehydrated it for five hours to make it into jerky. Maybe I am paranoid, but I'm not imagining the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
My sister-in-law gave me a writing prompt to help me out with my writer's block. She gave me the prompt back in March. I've only now begun to really think about it, about how I would write the story of Liz, a day-time book reviewer but night-time stalker. Well, the prompt doesn't say she stalks at night, but I like the sound of it. Her goal is to find true love, but the barista at Starbucks has become her obstacle. I think I want to make the story silly and romantic instead of heavy and tragic.
We wait in the airport. I try not to cry by keeping myself busy, talking nonsense with a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. I try not to think about tonight or tomorrow or the next day, but inevitably my heart aches at the thought of missing his voice, his touch, his presence. I miss him even though he still sits next to me playing on his DS. Turning to him, I bury my head in his chest as I stifle the urge to bawl. He kisses my cheek, wipes away my tears, then tightly wraps his arms around me.
A gentle breeze glides through the open window. The curtains look as though they breathe as they billow out with the wind and get sucked back into the window a moment later. The breeze softly lifts my hair and caresses my neck, sending chills down my spine. I shiver. Goosebumps form on my arms. I rub my hands against my arms for some warmth; then I walk to the window and close it. The wind wafts through the room a final time, then relieves my skin of its cold touch. The curtains billow once more before settling, breathing no more.
I have a pack of Wrigley's Extra Sweet Watermelon gum on my desk next to my keyboard. Under the paper flap of the packet, it mentions hot dog gum in jest. That is just gross. I know that bacon has become a popular flavor to make into everything, like hot sauce and gum, but imagine if they made it all hot dog flavor. I don't mind eating hot dogs, and bacon is just delicious, but I wouldn't want their flavors made into gum. These are just my musings today as I sit at my computer after only four hours sleep.
Four hours here. Four hours there. Never eight hours straight, at least not for the last month. My husband works the midnight shift, so we don't go to sleep until the morning when he comes home. On my birthday, in mid August, we went on a Rhine River cruise during the day. We slept for four hours at home, then went on the cruise, and then came home and slept for four more hours. Michael readjusted quickly to his work schedule again, but I still sleep the same way I did as on my birthday: four hours at a time.
Today marks a momentous occasion for me! I'm pregnant! I took a home pregnancy test that said "pregnant." I was so excited that I couldn't wait to tell Michael. He was at work, and he had just sent me an email with an image about coffee, so I replied saying I had a picture for him as well. I sent him the picture of my positive pregnancy test. He sent an email back saying I was supposed to wait and that he loves me. We confirmed the pregnancy with a urine test at the doctor's office. I'm due in May!
I went to Bad Dürkheim today for the wine festival. I took a few small sips of a very sweet wine. It was delicious! I didn't want to drink more than that though. Michael and our friend Marie went on a few of the rides while I took pictures. I ate some Annette pizza with onions, garlic, peppers, salami, cheese, and pepperoni on it. It was delicious. I drank a slushi that I had thought to be watermelon, but actually tasted like coconut mixed with the watermelon. By nightfall, we could barely walk through the large crowd of people.
My cat meows at me from the floor. I think she wants attention. Either that or she wants food. I know I already fed her, so she must want me to pet her. She'll tap me with her little white paws until I let her on my lap. Or she'll rub against my legs while meowing. She jumps on my lap and lies down, waiting for me to pet her. Whatever cats want, cats get. She purrs. Receiving enough attention, she jumps down to the floor, meows at me, walks away, and lies on the floor next to the door.
We're told to drink eight 8 oz glasses of water each day. Most people probably don't, but I've definitely tried. I went on a diet to lose 40 pounds about two years ago. I decided to drink a lot of water to help me not feel hungry all the time, since I had cut my calorie intake and started exercising. I didn't reach that goal every day. When I managed to drink 64 ounces in a day, the bathroom became my best friend since I couldn't stop peeing. Luckily, other foods and drinks have water content to fill the gap.
I keep thinking about my sister's Christmas story she wrote when we were kids. The details are a bit fuzzy, but I remember the door knocker being the shape of Santa's head. And people kept dying. Every time someone died, the Santa head dripped blood, so somehow the two were connected. She also wrote a story about how everyone loved this pizza shop's sauce, but the secret ingredient was human blood. The more popular the pizza sauce became, the more that people died. I'm thinking about these stories because I'll be writing a Halloween story soon, and I need ideas.
I'd really love to skip writing today, but a promise is a promise, even to myself. Some days I have no problem writing, but other days, like today, my brain draws a blank, so I stare at the screen for a while until I gnash my teeth in frustration and watch anime or read a book for distraction. Today's one of those days that I just don't feel like doing anything. It seems that I've fallen into a routine of laziness. I need to set goals and stick to them, and I need to get out of the house more.
Coffee doesn't have its appeal anymore. I crave it, but when I drink it, I take two sips and want to stop. The taste isn't as wonderful as I remember. Perhaps I will have Michael make it next time. He often makes food and drinks taste delicious. Either that, or everything just tastes better when I'm not the one making it.
On the other hand, I've been drinking a lot more milk. Usually when I drink milk, I add chocolate syrup or powder because chocolate milk tastes yummy. Now I drink milk three or four times a day.
My ears hurt! I've just been on the phone for probably four hours, maybe even more, announcing to my husband's and my family that I'm pregnant. Holding the phone to my ear that long has caused my earlobes to hurt. And I still have one more phone call to make. It'd be so much easier if we lived closer because then I could have everyone over for dinner and announce it all at once. We're happy, though, to be having our first child, so the painful earlobes are worth it, and they will be the least of my physical symptoms.
Stream of consciousness, easily used when one can't think of something specific to write about. However, stream of consciousness tends to be erratic and doesn't often make sense in the long run. But one cannot be picky when one is having a hard time thinking of anything to write about. It seems that the void in my head has not closed, but I will fix that hole brick by brick, word by word, until the void is gone. In its place will be a fire spewing out sentences and paragraphs until stories and poetry will be etched in the flames.
I dreamed that I lived in a dorm, and I wanted to get a shower. I grabbed my shampoo, soap, clothes, and other toiletry and walked to the community shower. I put my stuff in the bathroom; then, realizing I had forgotten something, I went back to my dorm room. When I returned to the shower, the door was locked and I couldn't get my stuff. Though a community bathroom, it only had one shower. For the next hour, I kept going back and forth from my bedroom to the bathroom in frustration and anger because the door remained locked.
As you hold this postcard in your palm,
Here I am in Germany
Wishing you were here with me.
The weather has gotten cold.
The leaves have turned red, orange, and gold.
Right now Oktoberfest is the place to go,
But alas, this year we must say no.
Instead we'll enjoy the Frankenstein Castle
Where ghosts and vampires will be a hassle.
Every room will be a fright.
I'm sure I'll scream with all my might.
I still can't wait to go to Italy,
So many places I want to see.
I hope you visit soon.
The young boy threw a rock into the lake. It plopped into the water, forming ripples from the impact.
"Here, l'll show you. Like this," his older brother said. He threw a rock, and it skipped across the lake four times.
"Wow," the younger brother said. "Let me try again!" He picked up a small rock from the ground and threw it into the lake, but it landed only a short distance away from where they stood. His face fell in disappointment. "I can't do it!" he complained.
"Yes you can," his older brother replied. "You just need to practice."
Gurgling, growling, pinching, pulling, queasy, incessant pain. Nausea. My stomach has become a stranger to me. I don't know how to satisfy it. What's too much food? What's too little food? How long do I wait to feed it? When am I even hungry anymore? My mind has been reduced to just feeling the pain. All other thoughts flew away when my stomach took over. I had hoped to avoid this stage, but my stomach had other plans for me. And to spite me for hoping against nausea, my stomach decided to give nausea to me all day long. Pregnancy.
Two boys stand outside a dilapidated home. They talk in whispers about the old man who lives there, rumored to lure children into the house on Halloween with candy only to capture them and eat them. One of the boys does not believe the rumors, so the other dares him to knock on the house for candy on Halloween. He takes the dare, but only on the condition that they both go in the house. So they knock on the door. The old man answers and beckons them in for candy. They both go in, but only one comes out.
Ginger ale has become my new best friend. So have ginger snap cookies. Finally, I found something that helps even a little bit with my nausea. Peppermint made it so much worse. Dry foods like crackers and pretzels don't really do much for me. Since I started drinking ginger ale, I can actually tell when I'm hungry. The angry pit of my stomach isn't hiding my hunger pains anymore. So that's good. I hope it gets even better so I can concentrate on my writings and on housework. I have better things to do than curl into a tight ball.
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