Best title I could come up with.

My third journal. I look back to my first journal and realise how long I've been here. Holy hell. My first entry. What a classic. Back then, up until now, not much has changed. That's not to say AP has been struck with a terrible, incurable monotony, but simply that there is simply way too much material here for a sarcastic person like me to pick at. It's quite lulzy, though I hardly dislike the place, with three papers (I know that's not much shut up) and a donation under my belt. AP you rawk. You just make me worry for my very life and sanity. Most of it is thanks to ^hatesyou, who, in fact, doesn't hate me, but helped me out when I was an ickle nooblet to getting my papers up and ready so I didn't get docked a hundred god damn papers. She's just uber frightening as a person in general. =]

But enough about the site! Good god, I ramble too much, and that's saying a lot since I'm assuming people don't read my journal anyway. But I'll say life's been meh, and almost meh enough for me to consider making another paper, this time very emo themed and whatnot, though I figure I've been lucky so far and haven't gotten any rejections. This is like that cake or death skit. You either get accepted or you fail so hard you wished you wouldn't have failed so hard. Life or death situation here folks. But that aside. I want to make a paper. I just am not sure what to make it on.

Then again, I could always make it on my books. One thing I'm actually proud of myself with. I'm a published author now. Yep. Truth. This is my storefront. (Not sure if I can do such a blatant shameless plug in my own journal, but if not I will accept my lashings.) I'm just proud of myself and happy for once. I finally accomplished my dream of becoming an author, and it happened.

School. Oh school you hell hole of a craptastical crap fest. I hate you with every fiber of my being and I'm only going there because my best friend convinced me to continue my classes until I get my degree. I'm a creative writing major for god's sake, stop telling me I need maths and science classes. The closest thing I'll come to science in my career is science fiction, and considering I already published a book under that genre, I'm ahead of you, you bastards. I don't want to take Shakespearean lit. In our current economic and education crisis, I understand the call and need for general education requirements, but Shakespeare has been DEAD for a LONG FREAKING TIME. I don't want to learn about him and his misguided versions of the English language, I already have to take history classes. I like history, but I don't like taking language arts classes that maul the language. Come on now. You adults worry about the state of us teenagers and our language enough that you complain about how much words have changed over the decades, and you make us take Shakespearean classes? Thanks for redefining our already shaky grasp on the stupidest language in the universe, guise.

...okay, so I'm ranting. I'll shut up now. Enjoy the blog!