I'm [relatively] mentally stable

Public high school affords a lot of opportunities for human interaction.

Yeah, I know. No freaking duh. The above sentence is pretty obvious. I mean, you spend 8 hours surrounded by 1000 people you barely know. There must be some interaction. Well, you'd be surprised how easy it is to speak exactly 10 words all day; most of them being some shortened variation of "the hallway is not a parking lot" and "stop stepping on my face, moron." When you're in high school, you get pretty good at the whole abbreviating thing. And being vague. Being vague is essential to the high school existence...and stuff.

Through all of this...quality interaction, I've noticed something about myself. I have just about 15 different sides. Which one is seen is dependent on who I'm with. It's not exactly a new observation. I've always known this about myself, but I've never seen it manifest itself so clearly until this week. I went from sarcastic hippy to valley girl, loudly chewing her gum to know-it-all Granger and everything in between within the span of 8 hours.

Everyone experiences this, I'm sure, but it doesn't make it any less interesting. I've found that once I've established that a certain "side" goes with a certain person. It's nearly impossible to change. Yesterday, I tried and...it didn't work. In fact, I only became more sarcastic and insulted the intelligence of four people. Fail.

I've been thinking about this quite a bit. After a lot of soul searching,  I came to the conclusion that penguins are reptiles. Everything else is just a lie.

Behold the mighty penguin. It has no soul.

Public High School: The Recluse discovers a Mystical Planet

(No, I'm not apologizing for my lack of posts AGAIN. Nope. Not gonna. You can't make me.)

Ah, the cliched "horrors" of public high school. Horrible cafeteria food, brainless jocks, evil teachers, vapid cheerleaders who rule the school, nerds stuck in lockers for the duration of the school year. It's all a lie. Public school isn't like that at all. It's much, much more complex and--to be frank--strange.  If you've ever attended public high school or even just set foot in one, you know what I mean.

I, however, don't know what I mean. The above paragraph was just an assumption because I've never been to public high school.  That's all about to change tomorrow morning at precisely 8:00 AM. "BUT NICOLE," you may exclaim in complete indignation. "You were living a self-proclaimed recluse's dream! How could you give it all up for structure and...public restrooms?"

Dare I say it? I do dare. I want a social life. GASP. Yep, I said it. I want people and extracurriculars and a locker. I like lockers. Sometimes, they're shiny.  Sometimes, they make cool noises when you open them. Heck, I even want the anxiety of trying to figure out what to pack for lunch. And let me tell you, veganism and public school do NOT mix. It doesn't help that I've sworn off sugar and yeast indefinitely.

The school is amazing and I'm happy with my decision. Although I'm going to miss all my friends from online school, instructors with PhDs and all the crazy study sessions that last until 2 am in the morning, I know that I can't be a recluse forever. I'm not exactly long-term recluse material.

So in that vein, I'm changing the name of this blog. The content will pretty much remain the same. You can expect crazy stories about rabid cell phones, rules for leprechaun hunting, and of course, hobos. This blog is nothing without hobos. Say goodbye to the reclusive butterfly because she's leaving her shell behind forever.

Your Characters Should be Weak

It's been nearly two months since my last post and for that I am sorry. If you'd like to know what happened to me, ask my captors: homework and life. Also, I was attacked by giant flaming hail stones. I don't want to talk about it.

Anywho, I realized something ridiculously important yesterday as I lamented over the blandness of the main character of my novel.

Have you ever read a book about two orphan sisters? The older one sacrifices everything to make sure the younger one is provided for and lives as normal of a life as possible. As a result, the younger one has a semi-decent life with friends that love her and she doesn't realize how lucky she is to have a sister like this bla, bla, bla. Meanwhile the older sister has absolutely no life, no friends, no personality because she really never got a chance to develop as a person. Eventually, the older sister begins to resent her younger sister so much, she loses her mind and takes to dressing up in a platypus costume and murdering people with sporks.



My book is nothing like that.




However, that is a perfect metaphor for what's happening. You see, the little sister is the surrounding elements of my novel. The plot, the supporting characters, the setting etc. The older sister is my main character. My main character is the life line for the rest of the book. She pushes the plot forward and creates the situations. That's not the way to go about a novel if you want fully developed characters. My character has become a shell, bending to my will. All my other characters argue with me when I try to make them do something they wouldn't normally do, but not my main character. She does whatever I say.

 Here lies the issue. All this time I've been breaking my own rule: Authors create, not control. So, I started over with my main character. I let her react and do whatever she wanted to do without trying to keep her moving toward some goal. I put her in this really odd situation and just wrote her reactions. I found something that a million character sketches couldn't ever help me find. I found her voice.

I once said to put yourself in your character's shoes, but I retract that statement. Maybe, we should just be our character's scribes and let them do all the work.

Bloggers With Strong Pinkie Fingers: Paul Vermeesch

 It's a day late. I know, I'm horribly pathetic. You may throw things...just don't throw peanut butter. I hate peanut butter. Also, due to extreme technical difficulties the picture for this article refuses to get it's medium resolution hide into this post. I apologize for this large wall of text with no pretty pictures. Nonetheless, you will enjoy this because I barely talk at all in this post!  Instead, the quirky and completely awesome Paul Vermeesch will be doing the bulk of the talking. Paul builds Lego creations. It's rad.

Paul has been building Lego creations for a little over two years and finds his sanity depends on this fascinating hobby. He's a workaholic and has an especial knack for dissecting pre and post Colonial texts. He's an on-fire-for-God Christian (my favorite kind of Christian) and prides himself in ridiculously long words like pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a type of lung disease).You can check out some of his amazingsauce creations by clicking here!

Take a look at our interview:

Nicole: So, this is quite a hobby you have. How long have you been doing it?

Paul: Lego has this restriction that they plaster on their boxes "NOT FOR CHILDREN UNDER 3" So, had it been an option, I'm afraid I would have been at this hobby for maybe thirteen of my fourteen years, but alas... I was restrained from "the brick" until the age of three, when I was given my set of Duplo. Lego now runs through my veins, and I've picked it back up after a few years of dullness, as a way to stay sane... amidst homework... and school... and life.

Nicole: I've seen some of your creations and a lot of them are pretty complex. With school and life, how do you find the time and how long does it normally take you to complete a Lego creation?

Paul: Generally, I'll finish some homework, slap myself for not working harder, build for a few precious minutes, slap myself again for not working, and get back to work. Eventually, these five minute build times generate masterpieces. It depends on the complexity of the build I have in mind, but their effort is usually measured in hours. At one point in a singularly challenging build, I made the genius decision to set the work-in-progress by my alarm clock. I wake up the next morning to the sound of my alarm, and make the classic smash to the snooze button. The result was another few hours of RE-building time.


Nicole: That is incredibly frustrating. What's one of the worst building mishaps you can recall?


Paul: One word: Disorganization. It plagues me around every turn. Bricks have the tendency to look like a nuclear bomb has struck when you've been in a building groove.


Nicole: (laughter) Have you ever considered architecture as a potential career path?

Paul: With the way I like to destroy things once they are built, no. I don't think that would be a good idea. 

Nicole: (At this point, Nicole laughs like Ed the hyena from the Lion King. Nicole has issues. Do not judge her.) I could see where that could be an issue. You told me earlier that you know the molecular make up of Lego plastic. Care to share? 

Paul: Of course! Acrylonitrile butadiene styrene is a straight chain of hydrocarbons with four gas constants linked to it, and to a smaller hexagon of carbon atoms bonded and double-bonded together. The result is the familiar little piece of plastic with eight little bumps on top that has become a universal symbol of awesomeness. 

Nicole: That's great! Surprisingly, I actually understood most of that. Besides designing  (and destroying) Lego creations, what are your other hobbies? 

Paul: One of the great joys in my life is dueling, and slicing invisible opponents with anything resembling a sword. My parents eventually got worried, and signed me up for fencing, a sport which I now thoroughly enjoy. I also horseback ride and play chess against myself. Other times, I often find myself running blindly through the woods, at which point, I usually revert to Cheerio eating contests... against myself. I have no siblings, and I love it that way. 

Nicole: If you were running through the woods and found yourself face to face with a angry, yelling anteater, what would you say to it? 

Paul: Hi! You look mad.


Nicole: Oh! Before I forget, explain SNOT.

Paul: So this guy comments on one of my creations, and he's like "great SNOT work!" I reply back something like, "yeah, thanks jerk."(That did not happen by the way.) Anyhow, I did a bit of sleuthing, and eventually found this great post by some genius who figured out that a lot of the Lego terminology was too confusing and too... offensive if taken the wrong way. SNOT stands for "Studs Not On Top." If you were given a few Lego bricks to put together, you would usually just stack them. More complex building requires more complex techniques like sideways or upside-down building. (SNOT) Basically, whenever you have Legos that face sideways or down instead of up, you have used the SNOT technique. 

Nicole: What is your proudest moment as a 'legoer'? 

Paul: Photographing and perfecting models and then sharing them with the world gives me much joy. It makes me feel happy inside. Like a little cheesy smiley face giggling in my soul... I digress. It makes me happy when I get nice little comments like "awsum MOCs u rock!!!1!!1" on my creations. I don't know. The whole hobby is so fun and rewarding, each little Legoing moment is just a great part of a proud history of an art form that reaches all the way back to 1916. (MOC, by the way, stands for "My Original (or own) Creation") 

__________

So, instead of saying "there you have it, folks" after each interview, I'm just going to yell random colors. 

Razzmatazz!

The Proper Way to Talk to Yourself

 Some writers outline.  Some writers brain storm. Some writers shove earth worms up their nose. And then there is me.  Sunday evening I finished the first draft of my novel. Finishing that horrid thing has made me happy enough to don my toga and throw pies at walls to the tune of "Mahna Mahna" by the Muppets. This is the first novel I've ever finished. I have a morbid obsession with rewrites, so finishing actually finishing this without stopping to rewrite is almost equivalent to a miracle.  Looking over my novel, I realize that the plot is...nonexistent. Sad, but true.  Of course, that only means one thing: it's time for me to neglect my school work and hash out that plot! But I'm coming to realize that my favorite ways to hash out plots are just a bit odd.

Usually, I climb onto my bathroom counter and have a face to face chat with myself. It's not that I enjoy looking at my face, it's simply the fact I have to make eye contact with myself or I lose focus. You think I'm joking. I'm not.  It's never really occurred to me how odd this must seem until my mom happened to walk past the bathroom yesterday and backed up. She stared at me before asking, "Nicole... what are you doing?"

I shrugged and replied, "Thinking." She gave me another odd look, before asking me why I had to think on the bathroom counter.  I had to look deep into my soul for the answer to this question. After much searching, I have found no answer, but I have found the secret chocolate frosting! No, I'm not sharing. I would tell you the story of how the frosting came to reside in my soul, but I save that story for cocktail parties and intimate minion gatherings.

Although, I didn't find the answer to why I feel need to climb onto the counter to talk to myself, I did realize that I have a bucket-load of strange writing habits. Below are three that would be most helpful to you, my readers (the rest are just weird and help no one, not even me):


Novel Correspondence

It's a novel idea! Okay, that was bad. I'm sorry.
Sometimes, I find myself at the point where I can't even look at my novel, let alone progress the plot. So instead, I write letters to my novel. It's a total waste of time, but relieves much frustration. This is the last note I sent my novel:

Dear Novel,
Plot...jkdfjkdsfhjkdshkjdfhkdsldfljkdfsjkdsfalk
Shanks,
Nicole

They say the best way to move forward in a relationship is to lay it all out in the open. Novels are no different. (Okay, maybe a smidge.) What better way to get all that resentment off your chest, than an angry letter typed with your muscular pinkies...or your forehead.


Empty the Contents of Your Head

That was an intentional spill. That's how I like my milk...yo.

Take your head, cut it open, and scoop your brain right out. Not literally, silly. Get your characters out of your head and into the real world! As you're pouring your milk, think about how your characters would do this simple task. What kind of glass would they get? Would they get a glass at all? Would they pour it in their mouth straight from the carton or pour it on a lizard's head? Would they miss their mouth? Would milk end up in someone's left nostril? These are questions you must answer.  You might even have to impersonate your characters to answer these very important questions. Don't worry, your characters aren't real, so you won't go to jail. Probably. White cells aren't jail...they have padding. Jail doesn't have padding, okay?

On a similar note, talk to your characters if you have to. How do they feel about you? Do they resent you for making them dress up as a Teletubbies in chapter 3? Make sure your characters know you care about them because if you don't care about your characters, no one else will. However, don't coddle your characters. Don't be afraid to torture them. They'll thank you later...or try to maim you with your own foot. Potato, potato.  You know, when you spell that it doesn't make as much sense...Or maybe...it makes MORE sense! Now, I'm confused.

Stand in a Corner

Nothing like rocking to and fro to stimulate those brain cells. You can even whip your hair in the corner. Everything makes sense in corners. What? It's true.

Do you have any weird/useless writing habits like me? Leave a comment! I like comments. Or if you're "normal," feel free to make wisecracks about my increasing lack of sanity.  

Bloggers With Strong Pinkie Fingers: Dan Bergstien

In late 2007, the inner depths of my mind were violated by a series entitled,  Romantic Fantasies of a Certain Lady that Make Certain People Want to Cut out Their Eyes with a Plastic Spoon, commonly referred to as the Twilight Saga. In a retaliation of some sort, I became obsessed with most things that criticized or mocked the series. In fact, my first ever post on this blog was about Twilight. Approximately two years later, the book still haunted me, but I'd moved on...sorta. I was on SparkNotes, one fateful evening and a particular article caught my attention. A little something called Blogging Twilight.  It's now my favorite part of Thursday.

Meet Dan Bergstein, the mastermind behind Blogging Twilight on Sparknotes and the winner of the first ever "Bloggers with Strong Pinkie Fingers" award here on this blog. Congrats, Dan. As amazing as Blogging Twilight is, Mr. Bergstein is winning this award for his very own piece of the web: Laser Farm. Laser Farm is about...something. There is creative writing and disturbing Lego Advent Calenders. I'm not completely sure, but there are amazing pictures and it never fails to make me snortle (snort and chortle). If I were to sum up Laser Farm, I would say it's the makings of an epic blog beyond words or genres.

Dan was so kind to spare a little time for an interview. It was a little bit strange and a whole lot of awesome, but don't take my word for it (I'm not very trustworthy), see for yourself:

Q: I know I'm not supposed to ask, but my curiosity is killing me. Where did the name "laser farm" originate?
A: It was the only name left in the entire world. All other names have been taken. Well, I could have used Duck Rocket, but that sounds like something lewd.

Q: Quick! In one word, describe Twilight.
A: You didn't say please. Stop being so bossy!

Q: What was the first blog post you ever blogged? What was it about?
A: For SparkNotes? Hmmm…I think it was about the show LOST. It got 5 comments and I felt like a king.

Q: What's your favorite organ?
A: The heart…of a pterodactyl.

Q: Your novella was pretty amazing. Are there any plans for an epic novel in the works?
A: I have a few things kicking around...[Evil Grin]

Q: Wombats or Capybaras? Why?
A: Wombats, because they taste less spicy.

Q: What's your writing process? Do you do anything special before you write your blog posts?
A: I don't have any sort of process, though I never wear shoes when I write. Never. That's a bit strange, I suppose. Oh, and I also shove earthworms up my nose to retrieve good ideas from my brain. But everyone does that. Right?

Q: This is a little bit unrelated, but when you finally get your jet-pack, can I borrow it?
A: Yes. But don't get any chocolate on it.

Q: You blog on SparkNotes.com and on BN.com, what inspired you to start Laser Farm? Do you have any exciting segments planned?
A: I love working for SparkNotes and BN.com, but I was the only professional writer without his own Website. I needed a place where people can find and contact me. Plus, I like having the ability to write up whatever I want and post it whenever I want. In the coming weeks, I hope to get a pod cast up and running with a writer friend of mine. And there are some other fun things planned. 

Q: When you're not blogging, at your thinking lake, throwing Twilight books at walls or pretending to be at the airport, how do you spend your free time?
A: I'm an Olympic pole vault judge and part-time liar.

Q: What would be your advice to a new blogger who is just getting started?
A: Real Answer: You have to write every day. You can't expect to reach an audience if you just post once a month. Joke Answer: Shove worms up your nose to retrieve good ideas from your brain.

Q: Tell me about your set of "emotion pants." When do you wear them?
A: The jealousy pants are green. The angry pants are dark purple. The cranky pants are too tight. The happy slacks are denim. The sexy pants are really just a pair of shorts. And the drama pants smell like popcorn butter. I wear them at night.

Q: What would you do if you were confronted by an evil clown at Costco and it wanted to make platonic spaghetti with you?
A: That's a stupid question. My aunt doesn't even go to Costco and she's not evil, just misunderstood.
 ___
There you have it, folks. If that wasn't awesome, I honestly don't know what is.  I would like to thank Dan Bergstien once again for agreeing to answer my eccentric questions. I would also like to thank the voices for providing me with the aforementioned questions.

Want to see your name in the "spotlight"? Send me your blog, you could be next! Click here for more information.

Feminine Lamps Must Die

This is, without any doubt, the nerdiest thing (that's saying something) I have ever done in my life and I'm rather proud of the endeavor. Once a week, (hopefully...) I will transcribe my adventures in creating an entirely new language. From the grammar, all the way to the alphabet. I'll try not to get too technical, but be sure to comment to tell me if you want more details!  Also, tell me if I'm boring you and now, you hate me.

Ah, stage one. Grammar. It's my least favorite part of this whole process and to be honest, I've been tempted to procrastinate more than once; to start with the lexicon or the general sounds of the language, but I'm forcing myself to start with this because if I don't, it won't get done.

First things first, I've decided my language is going to be isolating. Meaning, like Chinese there are no tenses, but instead added words to indicate when an action was completed or perhaps not at all. The reason? Because I'm learning Chinese, so it's only logical to put my limited knowledge of the language to good use. Also, I'm lazy and I shudder at the thought of an inflecting language that uses verb tenses like...Latin. Let's just say Latin and I have never been the best of friends. Feminine lamps? No thanks.
I'm very tempted to do something awesome and weird to add my own personal touch to the grammar, but I've decided the more simple the grammar is, the better. I barely have patience for English grammar.

Do not look directly at the evil. Your eyes will fall out. 4real.

Second things fourth, or wait...how does it go? Nevermind. Secondly, I'm getting rid of adjectives because adjectives scare me, along with cows. Cows are scary.

Cases, cases, oh cases how I despise you. For you seem simple, until it is time to create a language. For this, I had to look up what Ergative means....twice. I still don't get it.  There's a whole bunch of big grammar words involved and I'm not sure I have the patience to look all of them up because by the time I've looked them all up, I will have forgotten what they all mean. So, I'm just sticking to good 'ole English here and using a genitive case form. ("yours" etc.) I know this will cause me problems later because, like cows, English is evil.

Do my nouns have genders? Take a look at the title of this post, bucko. Heck no. I'll probably rethink this later, but at this moment, I'm still rather scarred by the female lamps. Of course, genders don't have to indicate feminine, masculine, and neutral, but we'll see...

 I'm a bit apprehensive about verb inflections, but if I'm not using genders for my nouns it might be helpful. I'm leaning toward a clitic (like in French: Je l'aime.) verb inflection because it's romantic! However, whenever I'm romantic things turn...strange. There are situations with grapes...and pancakes...syrup in people's hair, but that's for a different blog post on a different blog.

Personal pronouns require just a little bit of information about who the language is for. To put it simply, it's for elves! Because of the nature of the world of these elves, the personal pronouns are going to be based on formality and "she/he vs. it." They will be directly related. Calling someone an "it"= highly impolite.

As for numbers, I'm no good at math, and neither are my elves. The number system will be fairly simple, based on the classic "10, 10 and 1, 10 and 2" system.

Slang? Definitely. I'm working on developing some super cool slang. It's not exactly going to be scientific though.  It should be scientific, but I don't know how committed I am to the slang. Especially, if it means I have to spend more time on grammar. Also note: I am awesome, but I'm not cool at all. English slang is a challenge for me, so I tend to make up my own slang and force people to subject themselves to my will...I mean...and hope that they catch on?

That's about it, for now. I hope I didn't bore you to death. Next week, if it interests anyone perhaps I will have an elf highlight the most common grammar mistakes of...the language that I have yet to name officially. For now, we shall call it, "Hisito."

Also, a book was recommended to me...I haven't read it yet, but I hope to...soonish. It's called "Historical Linguistics" by Theodora Bynon. Link: Historical Linguistics.

I Write Stories About Spilled Milk

 I found the winner for this week, but the contest is far from over! There's about seven months left, so  keep those blog submissions coming! I've gotten some amazing links.The interview will be up this Friday. Who won? That is for my minions to know and for me to find out. Don't know what I'm talking about? Click here.

Yesterday, I realized that I have serious issues. This may not be news to you, but I discovered yet another thing about myself as a person and a writer that scares me...

To me, everything is a potential short story or novel. Not joking. Sunday at church, someone sat on my purse. Normal people would think, "Hey, get off my purse." or "Don't crush my granola bar, you fool." Not me. My first thought was about writing a short story about a slightly overweight older man, with bad arthritis in his knees who happens to sit on a woman's (who is also old) purse... The story follows their epic journey of freeing the old woman's purse from...his backside's...oppression and then they fall in love.


A couple of weeks ago I was at Costco and a woman was arrested for stealing...something. I don't know what it was, but I really, really, hope it was a giant package of rubber chickens. I don't really want to go into the storyline that came to mind with that particular experience...I don't want to corrupt your innocent and relatively sane minds. It involved robotic aliens and the bending of wills...I'll leave it at that.

I worry about what this means for my already-unraveling sanity. Even when something bad happens, that thought is not too far from the front of my mind. Is life just a gigantic novel waiting to be written? YES...I mean...no...um...

Does this mean I have no real perception of reality?

Possibly, but enough self-psychoanalysis. Here are 7 things about me, as promised:

1.  I am a Christian who is crazy in love with her Savior. 
2.  I LOVE SOCKS. SO MUCH. Knee highs, fuzzy socks, Santa socks etc. It's not so much that I like to the wear them. I've never really liked wearing  socks or shoes, but I like the idea of wearing them. Because I like the idea so much, I end up wearing them all the time...Wait. I don't think that made any sense. 
3. I am the ruler of all cheese. I rule it, but I don't eat it. 
4.  I rewrote my first novel approximately six times. I am in the process of finishing my current novel (which I hate), so I can start my new, COOL novel. Which is about...something.
5.  I'm going to change the world. Not joking. 
6. I am in the process of creating my own language. Not just gibberish. It's going to have grammar and modifiers and so on. I will blog about this soon! 
7.  I will now use this 7th item to explain the name of my blog. Yay! When I was little, my dad used to call me a "social butterfly." I was friends with everyone and I loved to talk and to meet new people. As I got older though, this kind of started to change. Instead of breaking out of my shell, I turned into a self-proclaimed hermit; a recluse, by choice, if you will. It's not that I don't like people. I love people as much as I did when I was a (smaller) kid. I'm just not as social as I used to. Also, something deep and profound about not wanting to grow up.

I pretty much win at life, and now you can too!

I WON MY FIRST EVER AWARD FOR THIS BLOG!!

Maybe it's not that big of a deal, but I get excited over the small things in life, like mail...and grapes, but that's a whole different blog post; for a different era. My views on grapes are rather controversial.

I received this award from my fantastical friend, GryphonFledgling(click the link, click it!) and it totally made my day. It also gave me an idea, but I'll get to that later.

The rules of the Versatile Blogger award are:

1. Share 7 things about yourself.
2. Pass the award to 15 bloggers recently discovered.
3. Notify the blogger recipients.
4. Link to the blogger who gave the award.

Here's the deal: I will share 7 things about myself (in a different post).  I will be giving an award to 15 bloggers, but when I give awards I like to go all out. Therefore, I'm changing the rules up. I confess, I don't have 15 newly discovered bloggers to pass an award to. So, I'm starting a segment that will be called..."Blogger of the Week!"

My pinkies are fiercely strong. Fear them.

I'm just kidding. I'm probably going to name it, "Bloggers with Strong Pinkie Fingers."



I will be determining who wins. If you do win, you will receive a pretty badge that I will make myself and an interview here at Reclusive Butterfly. I might even throw in some cheese. Just kidding! You have to earn the cheese.  Be warned, when I give interviews, things tend to get a bit odd.

If you have a blog, post a link in the comments or send me an email (reclusivebutterfly@gmail.com). This is the only time I'm allowing shameless self-advertising, so you better capitalize on it before I change my mind.

The rules are simple:

1. You must update your blog. I'm not asking for consistency. That would be hypocritical, but if you haven't updated your blog relatively recently, you probably won't win.
2. Keep it clean. No R-rated blogs, please and thank you.
3. You're allowed one submission every two weeks.

What I'm looking for:

1. I don't care what you write about. Cheese, motorcycles, and horticulture are a few of limitless possibilities.
2. Intelligent writing is required. You're not perfect and I'm certainly not perfect. I don't expect perfection, but if your blog is splattered with chat-speak, I promise you all my cookies that I will lose my mind.
3. Funny helps. Just a note.
4. Boring doesn't help. You want to know what gets old really quickly? Blogs that are about your boring day. I'm as boring as the next person. My days consist of homework with the occasional jog around the kitchen sink. The most interesting part of my days is when I climb into my sink and yell, "CHEESE IS GOOD" in Danish. So, if nothing happens to you that's worth blogging about, I get it. Really. Please just...don't blog about how when you got out of the car, there was gum on the street and how you...looked at it and then...walked away. You will make me sad.
5. Effort!
6. I love pictures.

I will choose someone to win the award every two to three weeks until I've bestowed 15 bloggers with an award. This segment will replace "Fusion Fridays" because--don't tell anyone, but--Fusion Fridays were my way of being...lazy.  Gasp.

Well, it's time for me to climb into the sink and yell, "OST ER GODT."  While I'm doing that, send me a link to your blog.

Relax, screaming isn't going to make the boat sink any slower.

I don't really know what this picture has to do with anything, but it looks cool

Ah, school starts tomorrow. Back to the grind. The overtime. The hours of toil over Boo Radley's  glowing screen. The stress of deadlines I can barely make. Compulsively checking my grades every chance I get. A sudden rise in my blood pressure and the possibility of gray hair. Joy! No, that wasn't sarcasm. I'm excited. Hence, the exclamation point.

I love school. I do. It's amazing. I love it. Have I mentioned that I love it? Sometimes, it just leaves me a tad frazzled. Like now, for example, I should be getting a jumpstart on my school work by doing my reading for my literature course, but I'd rather finish Mockingjay. Of course, with all the work that must be done I find my self walking in circles and checking Facebook every five minutes instead of even reading for pleasure. I can't relax and I can't work. I'm in limbo. Like when a movie isn't in theaters anymore, but it isn't on DVD either. Or like puberty. -shudder-

Because I can't relax myself, I'm going to help you relax.

*cue Hawaiian hula dancing music*

Below are the cures to some of the most common habits induced by stress.

FUZZY SLIPPERS O.O 

PACING

If you find yourself pacing, sit down.

BITING NAILS

Chop off your fingers. Sounds gruesome, I know, but you can always grow new ones.

What?

You can't? Only lizards and robots can do that?

Well...you can always get cyborg fingers. Who doesn't want some of those?

BITING LIP

Tear out your teeth. Avoid solid food after. This will also solve the nail-biting problem.

BANGING HEAD AGAINST WALL

Distance yourself from walls.

NERVOUS EATING

Lock yourself in a closet. I'm not sure how this helps...it just does.

PULLING HAIR OUT

Shave head.

SETTING FIRE TO RANDOM OBJECTS

STOP.

Not all-inclusive, but certainly helpful, if  I do say so myself. Just remember, relax. Hyperventilating won't make the bullet wound hurt any less.

Have any other stress-induced habits you need help with? Tell me and I'll address it in a blog post.