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I push the keyboard away and slam my head down on the desk.
"Why is all my writing total crap?!" I ask to no one in particular.
I thought I had read something somewhere that said one of the best cures for writers block was to look at the first random object you see and describe it. Maybe I'll give that a go...
It's shiny and smooth, with a small dip in one side to let the juice flow out. The whole thing is a work of art, but it is underused and-
Guess that didn't work. Oh, well. I move my mouse away from the input box on Blogger, (I use Blogger to write all my stuff, then cut and paste it to wherever. I like the format- really simple, with lots of curvy lines. Good for the eyes,) and open a new tab in Google. I try a search for 'Cure for Writers Block', which wields 'about 708,000' results, according to the number displayed below, and as far as I can tell, none of them are useful. I get to wondering about that number they display, saying that's how many results they got. They could probably write any number they wanted in there- not like anyone's going to count. And then they list the time it took Google to find all of it, which seems kinda like bragging to me, don't you think? Like, 'look at me, I'm the best search engine ever! I got hundreds of thousands of results, and I did it in less than half a second! I even used decimals! Oh yeah.'
Now that I think of it, I'll bet you anything that they always round the number of results up and the amount of time down. Like, if they got 111,111 results, they would tell us they got 'about 200,000' results. If I had any less of a life, I would probably stop to count them, just to prove Google wrong.
I wonder if anyone would sue Google if they counted them all, and it turned out to be a lot less. I bet someone would. For some people, 'sue them' is the answer to everything. Last year, in seventh grade, my class set up a mock trial and I had to be a witness. We went to a real court house to debate and everything! The court house wasn't as impressive as I thought it would be- no big wooden platform for the judge, like you see on TV. It was just a big room, with grey carpet and tile walls. There were these weird windows that only showed the outline of things. There was this one squirrel that kept running up and down this tree outside, and this kid named Cameron and I were cracking up. Is it disrespectful to laugh at a squirrel during a trial? I bet it is. Oops.
I never know when to laugh. Like, sometimes, the teacher cracks a joke- a reference to a book, or a song, or something, and no one else gets it. So there I am, in the second-to-last row, laughing to a joke no one else understands, and then the teacher starts laughing too, and the rest of the class is just looking at the both of us like, 'what the heck is going on here?' And then I feel like an idiot, even though I'm kinda doing a smart thing.
And then there are other times, at lunch, when someone says something about a certain reproductive organ doing a certain thing, and I'm sitting there trying to figure out how that's anatomically possible while they're all laughing like that's the funniest thing any human being has ever said.
I guess my sense of humor is a little advanced.
A few days ago, I was wasting time in class, and I was looking up funny science jokes, everything from jokes about atoms to jokes about DNA. This kid next to me, Conner, is looking at my screen and laughing, and I swear, he was totally fake laughing, trying to look smart. I look at him and I'm thinking, no way does he get these references. My parents don't get these references. So I say to him, "Stop fake laughing," and he's like, "I'm not fake laughing," and then I point to a joke on the screen, one about Schrodinger's cat, and I ask him, "What's this joke about, then?" He just kinda looks at it for a while, then he looks back at his screen and goes, "Hey, did you know Urchins are a food? You eat the sex organs," and I'm like, hu? And he starts reading off this totally random website he found.
Conner is weird.
No, not weird. Weird is a compliment, coming from me. He's just dumb.
I sit back and look at my screen. I hadn't realized I'd written this much. I flick open a website I use sometimes called 'wordcounttool.com'. You just cut and paste your work into it's little box, press enter, and it counts the words for you.
Okay, it's at 847 right now. Not great, but not that bad either. As I'm looking back at it, it seems pretty fun to read, if I do say so myself. I wonder what I should call it. How about 'My Ramblings'? Yeah, that works. 'Cuz that's all it is, really. Just me rambling on and on...
So, I just got my mom to read over it for me. She sits down at the computer and starts speed-reading in that way she does. Seriously, this woman is a reading bullet. She's done with the page before I've even finished the first sentence!
Anyway. She's laughing every now and then, which is a good sign. I ask her if I can have a cookie. She grunts, which I take to mean, 'Sure, honey, eat as many as you like.'
We have some pretty good cookies right now. They're pumpkin, with chocolate and butterscotch chips. I helped make them, and it was pretty fun. I've been getting into baking lately.
Huh. I just realized that I have no idea how to end this thing. I just finished reading this book, 'The Misfits', and I thought it was pretty good, until the ending. It was a total happily-ever-after thing, and it totally contradicted stuff it had said before. I hope my ending doesn't do that. I bet it won't, 'cuz you kinda need a plot in order to contradict anything, and a plot is not something this post has.
So, I think I'll probably put this up on Teenink. Maybe I'll get comments or something. I haven't been on that site in a long time, and this will be my first post in months. I hope it's not too bad!