To post, or not to post.

I mean, that's not really the question. Here I am, after all.

But I am debating whether or not to post the intro to the fondly-named "Big Story," A.K.A. "Emmett's Story".

I've been in a bit of a slump lately. I don't know if it' because of the end of the school semester and the arrival of grades and reality (probably,) or just the place in the story I'm at, but I've had a hard time writing.

I'm at 36,000 words and just over a hundred pages, and just introduced my female lead, who, by the way, is kick-***.

Sigh. I'm going to have to re-think my next plot move.

On a separate note, I've had the strangest weekend. All day Friday was spent doing random family things for my brother's graduation. 'Kay, so here's a note about me: I don't like crowds. I don't like crowded places. I don't like large, extremely crowded places.
So after taking pictures for the family, I spent most of the graduation ceremony sitting outside (it was awesome weather for it,) reading The Hunger Games for the third time. While I was outside, these two groups of guys were on either side of me. Here's my crappy paint rendition.

I kinda felt like I was sitting in the passage of time from youth to age.

Then, later that night, BFFA came over.
Here's the thing about me and bffA. We're both extremely curious people, to the point of ridiculousness. BffA is also a very scientific person.
So when we're chilling in my room and spy the unopened pepper spray I got for my nighttime runs, well....
We opened it, and I sprayed the teensiest bit onto the tip of my finger. Nothing happened. So, I, eager beaver that I am, grabbed a bunch of paper on the floor next to me. "Spray this!!" I said, and she did.
At first, nothing happened.

 

A split second later, pain beyond belief ensued. Turns out that sitting in a small, enclosed space and spraying pepper spray is a really, really bad idea. We know that now. For those of you who haven't experienced the effects of pepper spray first hand, I'm not going to describe it for you, mostly because I don't have any words to explain the horror. Lemme just say that it's like bathing in jalapenos. Like every orifice of your body has been stuffed with the things. BffA and I both agree that we would never wish a face full of that on anyone. 

The next morning BffA and I left with my family for the beach. I really don't do well with early hours, but I do even worse with being in a crowded car listening to loud country music at 6 a.m., after two hours of sleep.

 Plus, I'm a bit of a control freak with driving. I don't like it when I'm in a car and not driving it. Dunno, I'm twitchy sometimes. So six hours later, (I spent three of them sleeping while BffA jammed out on her Zune beside me,) we get to teensy, beloved beach town on the Gulf. Teensy Beach Town is strangely lopsided as far as development goes. Half of it is hugely overbuilt and overdeveloped, while the other half of it is crumbling with age and poverty. It's sad. Anyways, every time I go to the beach I'm reminded of how much I love being there. Beach bums are my kin. 

 [Picture from the beach we go to. I have a painting of this exact spot hanging in my bathroom.]

So, short story even shorter, spent the night in a hotel room with BffA and Brother's Girlfriend, who turned out to be pretty chill. They've been dating for forever, but we've never really made an effort to spend time together until we were forced to. It was interesting spending more time with her and being social.

I lost my train of thought.

I'm tired and crave chocolate soymilk. I'm gonna go ahead and post the intro up either tonight or in the next few days.

<3