December 14th, 2000

k00kaburra.

Character Demands

I've got a dozen characters in a half dozen stories presently trampling around my skull, each one arguing over who gets to be recorded into the word processor first.
"Me!" one insists, "You've had me for nearly two years now and I've been in but two stories!"

"I haven't been in any at all!" cries another.

"Well, she canceled me, DAMMIT!" screams the eldest.

"You were boring! Cliche! Now, I am _original_!" squeaks the first.

It gives me a headache. I have too many stories that I can't concentrate on just one. Don't you hate how that works? Or does this only happen with me?

How the heck did the Brothers Grimm, Hans Anderson...what the heck, how does R.L. Stine manage?

Which story is best, and should be recorded first? The demented angel? The Final Drop of Blood? A Tear for You? Found in the Dark? Yroul? Takazura? Manastan?

And somehow, despite my rampant thoughts, I still sleep.
k00kaburra.

Last Meeting of the Year

Today was the last JSA meeting of the year. It did not go well.
I was sitting at the advisor's desk, looking for tape. It was my plan to tape the mouth shut of anyone who was loud or obnoxious. Sarah came up to me and said, "Sam, why did you put the annoucement in without me?"

"Because you didn't ever come to the library to help us plan it, so how could I?"

"You could've waited!"

"Sarah, please. You're making a scene and embarrassing yourself. And believe me, you can't afford to."

"What's that supposed to mean??"

"Sarah, dearest, no one has any respect for you. Let's get that out in the open now. Second, if you truly cared about JSA, all you have to do is grace us with your presence in the library on Monday or Tuesday. Wednesday's too late - the annoucement has to be in." I study my nails. Thumb nail is long, index is not. My pinky nail just broke. "President or not, you only won by a technicality. I can guarentee you that you will never be President again."

"Is that a threat?"

"I don't threaten people. Often. It's a fact. In these past four months you've proven yourself to be a most incompetant leader. You don't know what you talk about, and in the few times that you do, you blow it. You only want to look pretty, girl." I cackle wildly. "I promise you, next time we elect President, it's going to be ME!"

"I'm waiting for an answer, Sam! Why didn't you wait?"

I blink my way back to reality and out of fantasy land. I would never actually tell someone off like that in real life, you know. And if I did, it wouldn't be where someone else could hear. "We have a deadline to get that annoucement posted, Sarah. If you can't be done by then, then leave it to Laura and I. Because we can."

She is annoyed, naturally. She gets that way if it doesn't match what she wants to hear. She blunders through the meeting, as always, proving that she doesn't know anything. She's oblivious to everything from the chip on her shoulder to the stick up her butt.

Oh well. We can't all be me.