Home Alone: What I Do

When you have a big family – and I do – it’s something of a rarity to have the entire house to yourself. But when it does, I go crazy.

Seriously. Crazy.

I pull out the disco ball and invite over a bunch of fri–

What am I saying? Friends? People? Humans? No.

No, no, no.

Lies. Rubbish. Who is writing this post anyway?

The point was that I love being home alone. It’s inspires a lovely feeling of independence in my introverted soul and I just revel in being able to do whatever I want.

Now, I am not ten. Not a little boy. Don’t have blond hair.

But I thought you might enjoy my own version of Home Alone.

1. Read books

Um, this should be obvious? I am a bookworm, am I not?

So I read books. And as a fast reader, I can plow through chapters in mere minutes when there are – at long last – no distractions.

Image result for alone at last tangled gif

Truly, there is no feeling in the world quite like knowing you have finished three books in one day.

Those non-reading folk? They missing out, mon.

2. Play music loudly

I love music, as you all probably know by now. I love it even more when it’s pulsing through your veins and throbbing along with your heartbeat and shaking your car just a little bit so that random strangers get to enjoy it along with you.

I see you rolling your eyes. Saying, “Oh. She’s one of them.”

Yes. Yes, I am. And proud of it, thankyouverymuch!

Life is too short not to turn up the music, my dear. So turn it up. Belt it out along with ’em.

Yes, I sing, too. Don’t worry. I lip-sync when there are humans nearby. But when I’m alone? Josh Groban and I have done some spectacular duets.

3. Eat stuff

I am a self-diagnosed Bored Eater. This, of course, means that I don’t eat because I’m hungry – I occasionally do that as well – but because I have nothing better to do.

So when the house is empty and I am filled the contentment that comes from having finished several books, I begin rummaging through the fridge for leftovers, which I proceed to eat cold with a tall glass of milk. Not terribly sophisticated, I know. But I ask you – what could be better than a slice of pound cake and some hot wings for a midmorning snack?

Didn’t think so.

4. Prowl

I cannot be still. It’s a sad fact.

Image result for squirrel gif up

Reading books is about the closest I ever get, and even then I wiggle my toes or swing my leg like a pendulum.

I pace when I have a lot on my mind. I prowl when I’m bored.

This essentially means that I meander purposelessly through the house, probably muching on something, and start half a dozen projects that I leave blissfully unfinished because I’ve thought of something else I need to do.

As you can probably tell, I get a lot done. I am efficient. Organized.

What can I say? It’s who I am.
5. Watch chick flicks

Do. Not. Tell. Anyone.

Ever.

If you do, I will hunt you down and kill you.

We wouldn’t want my reputation as a hardcore, intense writer to be destroyed, would we? Don’t answer that.

I am a writer.

I am strong. Hardcore. Intense.

I do not watch sappy, romantic movies. Like Pride And Prejudice. Or Little Women.
6. Eat chocolate chips

Because clearly this deserves to be in its own category. Completely separate from the one that said “Eating Food,” or something like that.

Chocolate always deserves its own category, friends.

Do not question me.
7. Talk to the dog

Fun fact about me, coming right up.

I have a dog. Ta-daa!

She is a she. Her name is Sophie. I came up with it myself. It means “wisdom.” If you could see my dog’s eyes, you would understand the prophetic nature of my naming skills. She is an adorable black Labrador retriever. She is far chubbier than she ought to be, thanks once more to those eyes of hers.

We have the most fascinating discussions.

To be perfectly honest with you, I talk to myself. The dog just conveniently happens to be there.
8. Redecorate the house

Let’s just blame my restless nature once more, shall we? Good. I feel so much better now.

And of course my family is thrilled with the changes when they come home. How dare you doubt me for even one moment? My taste is unparalleled. Humans come to me from the four corners of the earth for my interior decorating advice.

I speak the truth.

9. Rearrange furniture

I get bored of things rather easily.

So I like to switch things up, you know? Move things around. Give the place a new look.

So what if I do decide to change it to something new a few days later? It’s my life. My house. Sort of.

10. Clean my room

My room is usually clean.

Or… you can see the floor, anyway. In some places.

But we’re straying from the topic at hand.

I like to clean. This most likely boggles your mind, but it’s true. I also like clutter. I like watching clutter build up so that I can clean it.

Particularly the unruly stack of books by my bedside. Things do tend to get out of hand there. During the week I’m too busy to put things back nicely. So by the time the weekend rolls around there are three or four piles of books, a veritable landslide of paper, pens, highlighters, and my trusty red mini-stapler. Oh, how I love that stapler…

Your turn! What do you do when you’re left home alone? Do you talk to yourself? Do you have a dog (introduce it!)? Is your room clean right now? Can you see the floor, I mean? What is the weirdest cold, leftover food combo you have ever eaten?

Sunshine Blogger? Me?

My sweet friend Julia nominated me – who’da thunk? – for the Sunshine Blogger Award.

I love being tagged. Tags equal a blog post with almost no effort required. I don’t have to think of an idea. I don’t have to write up the entire thing. All I gotta do is answer them questions!

Which is fun. If not for you, then for me. Because I am self-obsessed. I could talk about my fascinating self for hours, to be honest with you.

Hope you plan to hang around for a while…

Just kidding. Please come back.

Let’s get to it, shall we?

1. What is your favorite band/ What kind of music do you listen to?

This is one of those sneaky two-in-one questions that compel me to answer both.

That first one is all but impossible…

I like Switchfoot, Coldplay, Bastille, and Mumford And Sons. Those are just bands. I also love Owl City, Josh Groban, and Michael Buble.

The second one is easier. I listen primarily to rock and alternative, possibly some folk.

2. What is your favorite book?

Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis.

3. Are you a part of any fandoms, if so, what?

Offiicially? No.

Unofficially, The Hunger Games and The Lord of the Rings.

4. Favorite YouTuber?

Um. I watch all of Studio C’s videos?

5. What is your biggest Pet Peeve?

Humans who don’t like to read books.

6. What is your favorite color AND why?

Blue or green. Because both are so prevalent in nature and absolutely gorgeous. Trees, grass, the sky, the ocean… See what I mean?

7. Favorite song at the moment/ last song you listened to?

Another two-for-one deal!

Some of my favorite songs include Human by Christina Perri, Renegades by XAmbassadors, Bright by Echosmith, and Hello Seattle by Owl City.

Recently I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack and my beloved “Christmas Jam,” but, oddly, I have Closer by The Chainsmokers and This Town by Niall Horan stuck in my head.

8. If you could only get one thing for Christmas what would you ask for?

One of Cait‘s mugs. I am obsessed.

9. How many kids do you want to have when you are older?

As marriage is not apart of the plan, I’d say none.

However, if some guy manages to persuade me in spite of myself, I think I can manage two. It would be cute to have one girl and one boy, obviously.

Let’s hope we get one of each, then, because I am absolutely not going through the most intense pain known to man more than two times.

If I had my way, I’d forget having kids altogether and foster teenagers. International adoption gets a lot of attention, but what about all the kids without families right here in America? So many teenagers will never know what it’s like to be a part of a family. That’s not right.

10. Do you do any sports?

I played basketball for exactly one season when I was around seven years old. I played four or five seasons of soccer. But more recently, I play volleyball. I’ve played about five seasons, for a time competitively, now casually with friends.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have friends.

I play casually with other humans that I know.

11. What time is it right this second, as you are answering this?

Six-o-five.

I now nominate Miss March because her blog is sunshiniest of them all, Anna because we all need to get to get to know her lovely self better, Kenzie because she shares a name with my beloved niece, Kit because she leaves fantastic comments, Sarah and Grace because we are the Hamilton Squad, and monkeyeverything because her username is original and I’m only assuming that she is, indeed, female.

I am too exhausted to count how many people that is. I don’t think it’s eleven. I don’t care.

Your questions are as follows:

1. If you had to choose one song to be your “anthem” what would it be?

2. What is one book you will never read again and why?

3. What is one book you reread over and over again and why?

4. If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

5. Do you have a favorite quote and what is it?

6. If you could meet any historical figure – living or dead – who would you choose to meet? And, for the sake of getting more diverse answers, let’s leave Jesus out of this, shall we?

7. What is the first book you read on your own?

8. What is your fondest memory?

9. Who are your heroes?

10. What character from literature are you most like?

11. What would you do if the Zombie Apocalypse happened tomorrow?

Thank you once again, Julia, for nominating me!

What say you? Were you surprised by any of my answers? What is your favorite color and why? What have you been listening to recently? What do you want for Christmas? How many mugs do you own? Do you need more (you know you do!)?

My Best Friends

I love books.

I consider them my friends.

Ever since I was tiny, I can’t remember a single thing I liked more than for my dad to read me stories. Consequently, all of them made me cry – sensitive little soul that I was. But I loved it, nonetheless.

I love the smell of paper, of faded ink, of leather,  the sound of whisper-thin pages fluttering, brushing the thick spines with my fingertips, the cracked, worn bindings, the thick moist sound of opening a thick tome, the satisfying thump of closing one, the awing silence of a vast library, the feeling of limitless information at your fingertips…

But there is a darker side, even to something so seemingly innocent.

Let’s face it. Books, stories, are a form of escape.

I could lose myself in the magic and wonder and mystery of a good book… and escape the hurt, the pain, of the world around me. I could run away into a world where everything was happy, and ended happily, the bad guys couldn’t touch me. I could escape into a dreamland that was magical, and safe, and controlled.

But I wonder, can that be right? 

I believe in facing your problems. And I always hated the idea that life was so hopeless that it needed escaping. I never thought it was right, or even acceptable, to try and drown yourself in…escapes, trying to numb the pain. But isn’t that what I am doing?

Some turn to alcohol, some to work, or drugs, sex, entertainment, pleasure, sleep, food, shopping… and the list goes on. I find this depressing because no matter how hard you try to escape, the pain will still be there when you get back.

Sometimes I find myself more concerned about what’s going on in a book than what’s happening all around me.

So, in the end, the people that populate my world… aren’t real people at all.

This worries me. It scares me. I don’t want to become an addict. Even if the form it takes looks harmless.

So do I give up my favorite pastime? And, if I’m honest, could I even if I decided that I should?

When does enjoying a good book cross the line of becoming wrong, a way to run away from my life, when does it start causing me to miss out on things, important things, things I will later regret missing? When does it become destructive, an addiction, something that could ruin my life? Will I awaken from my dreaming, and, like Rip Van Winkle, realize that the rest of the world has carried on without me, and left me behind?

These are questions that I cannot answer. And I don’t know if I will ever be able to.

Top Ten Reasons I Hate Summer

Summer is rapidly approaching. Summer just happens to be my least-favorite season.

Why is that?

I have written a list for you.


1. Stuff Melting

Butter turns into this unattractive, squat, bright yellow glob.

Ice cubes are virtually useless as they disappear before they can make your drink cold – normally, I don’t even use ice cubes to make my beverages cold but during the summer they could actually be helpful if fit weren’t for the fact that they, you know, melt?

Ice cream is just exhausting. You have to constantly be licking all the escaping trickles or your hands will get all sticky like that five-year-old girl’s at the carnival, not to mention that you know your face will end up looking like hers no matter what you do.

Plus, I kind of feel like Im melting.

2. I Almost Never Leave The House

My schedule comes grinding to a halt during the summer. Everything just stops.

As an introvert, I can’t say that I wouldn’t prefer to stay confined to the house all year long. It makes me feel safe. Venturing out of the house is scary. So I don’t exactly miss any of the activities.

At first, it’s refreshing. But after a while? Even my reclusive self has to admit that it gets kind of boring.

3. The Day Drags On Forever

I think we can all agree that summer days are at least 90% longer than regular days.

Daylight Savings and all that?

4. You’re Finally Free And It Looks So Nice Outside So You Feel Like You Should Do Something…

…But it’s so hot that you don’t feel like moving so you hide in the basement all summer instead.

And turn pasty white from lack of sunlight. Ew.

5. My Brain Hurts From Reading Too Many Books

I never get sick of reading. Never.

I love reading! Nothing, and nobody, gets in between Me and My Books. Got that?

Except summer.

Summer is the only time when I actually – sometimes – stop reading books. Only for a week or something, but still. This is a big deal.


6. You Long For Rain But When It Comes It Is Warm Rain And Doesn’t Cool Things Off

Summers are rather hot here. You can’t move without sweating. So everyone holds as still as possible, waiting for night in the hopes that it will get infinitesimally cooler.

So it’s exciting when it rains, you know? Because everyone’s like, “Yes! This will definitely bring cooler temperatures!”

But it doesn’t.

7. Sleep Is The Only Relief But Going To Bed Is Depressing Because You Didn’t Do Anything All Day

Literally.

I sit around all day and do nothing. Except try to stay as cool as possible. Which basically means the same thing.

This leaves me feeling completely unproductive.

That said, I adore sleep, and by the time morning comes, I have somehow achieved a state of pleasant coolness… so getting out of bed is equally depressing.

8. Showers Are Pointless

First off, I do shower. Glad we cleared that up.

However, showering during the summer frustrates me. It is an exercise in futility. No matter how many times you shower, you know that you are going to sweat, feel disgusting and probably smell awful in mere seconds.

9. Bad Hair

I already have bad hair.

That said, it is ten times worse in the summer.

I have a mane of rather crazy hair. I struggle with it constantly. I’ve found that styling gel and sturdy rubber bands are my good friends in this. And usually they’re enough to wrestle my hair into some kind of order.

But humidity equals frizz. And let me tell you, it is not pretty.


10. My Birthday

Oh man.

As a child I could never choose a favorite season. Fall meant jumping in leaves, spring meant playing outdoors, winter boasted snow and, of course, Christmas, and summer meant no school and playing outside – and my birthday!

In the years following my birthday has increasingly come to mean embarrassment, awkwardness, and agony in general.

It means being in the spotlight for an entire day – even when you beg on hands and knees to be ignored. Don’t get me wrong – I love being in the spotlight. But I like to be the one who decides when I want to be there.

It is a depressing reminder of my childhood slipping away. An indication of another year I did nothing with.

I climbed no mountains, traveled to no foreign lands, didn’t even get a book published at the ripe age of sixteen and become and overnight sensation, for crying out loud.

What is there to celebrate, I ask you?

Do you, like me, hate summer? Why? Do you share any of my sentiments, or do you have reasons of your own? Or do you like summer (though I admittedly have a hard time accepting that this is even possible)?