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Apparently, our high school's boiler caught fire over the weekend, meaning I don't have to go to weight training until further notice. Yatta for that. Luckily, we still have a school to go to, thanks to the heroic efforts of our wrestling coach, who, in a selfless act of courage...showed up.

It's kind of weird, actually. Last year, we wanted new computers, then we had all of them stolen. This year, we wanted a new boiler, and the stupid thing explodes on us. Coincidence? You be the judge.

Story Progress: I found an awesome pen of mine, so I'm testing it out by re-writing the first chapter. As for the RP, we have plenty of people for now. There are four people, and there are only three people in the actual story. Sorry about those of you that didn't get a chance, but this be a first-come, first-serve thingy.

Story progress: I've started an RP thread, Hell Hath No Fury, to try and brainstorm up possibilities. It will be slightly influenced by myself, for the most part, since part of the story is already written, but we should pass that point soon. Once we do, I'll actually start roleplaying my character off the top of my head. If you're good at roleplaying, check it out, maybe snag a spot. If you're not good, check it out anyway.

Here's something to ask yourself. It's a deep, personal question, and it stemmed from one of the inane notes I sometimes get in Health class. Here it is.

Do you Egg McMuffin?

Search deep within yourself for the answer to that question, because with it is the answer to all things. The act of Egg McMuffin-ing will mean different things to different people, which is what makes it a personal question. What do you want it to mean? What does it actually mean to you?

As an added bonus, ask a foreign exchange student that question sometime. The look on their face is priceless.

Hm. Just so everyone here knows, @ <-----That's not an ampersand. & <-----That's an ampersand. I had to own one of my English teachers in front of the class by pulling out one of the grammar book transparenciess while her back was turned, putting it on the overhead projector, and highlighting those two symbols. I sat down just as she got back to work. >.>

Not only did I not get in trouble, I got extra credit, since apparently she'd been teaching that incorrectly for ten years or something. O.o

Story update: None. Couldn't concentrate on writing after the correction made my day. >.<;; I'll try to work on it tomorrow.

Story update! Woo! I finally got a pencil that worked satisfactorily, so the latest chapter is fully planned and halfway through its first draft. It is to be feared. A lot.

In other, less enthusiastic news, my mother, being the coordinated horse-wrangler she is, broke her finger trying to get said horse into a trailer. That's why there wasn't a journal entry yesterday: I wasn't home, I was driving her to the doctor. Go figure.

Wow. Today, we celebrated Thanksgiving by holding our school's Grandparents' Dinner a week before the actual holiday. This is the one day in the year that the old people going into daipers and the young ones coming out of them gather in the same cafeteria as the high schoolers that want nothing to do with either.

They sit down and try to strike up a conversation. A word to the wise: Teenagers either don't talk or don't stop talking, depending on where they stand in the popularity chain. The ones who don't talk...won't...talk. The ones who do, however, will chatter your ear off about stuff you don't want to hear in the first place.

Then comes the meal: a one-course meal served on real plates with real silverware. To be honest, I wasn't even sure our school HAD real dishes. The message there: Thanks so much for working most of your life and sending your tax money to other schools. Let us thank you by showing you what our kids don't get.

Still no change in the story, due to lack of pencils. And interest. Not at the story, but at finding pencils.

It's very rare that one is allowed to crucify something in school. It's even rarer that said crucifixion gets a good grade. Welcome to my life.

As part of an infomercial for my first-period class, my group taped a Spiderman doll to a makeshift cross. The product had nothing to do with Spiderman or the Bible, instead dealing with pharmaceuticals, but we got an excellent grade, means how it was a participation activity. >.>

Story update: Bah. Ran out of lead in my pencil while planning the chapter, so didn't make any additions. It'll be a couple days before I get any more. Accursed paycheck regularity.

Today's entry is sort of an advertisement of my work-in-progress, "Hell and High Water." It's a Final Fantasy-style story, but all of the characters and most of the concepts are my own. At the moment it's about a white mage acolyte's initiation into the Order and her pilgrimage therein.

This would be the eighth story I've attempted, but the only one that seems like it might go all the way. Maybe because I actually planned this one out. Go figure.