Here Is To NaNoWriMo And Math Meet

Math meet today! The second math meet of the—do we call it a season?—started with me missing the last fifteen minutes of Middle East (which is such a boring class, although now I know what a caliph is, finally). I went downstairs and saw Tea and Gretchen coming the other way, and we all got on the bus (and eventually everyone else got on the bus as well).

Obviously, per math meet tradition, we talked about random things. I don't remember much of the conversation, because I was attempting to read the last 15+ pages of Metamorphosis on the bus, and then proceeded to get really nauseated. Not good. (Tybalt remarked that our bus ride was extremely bumpy—more so than usual—which I believe may have contributed to the cause.)

Off the bus (and into Spearheadville), we went into the cafeteria and were going to our usual table in the banished corner when some random girl said, "Is this the nerd conference?"

That comment aside, the pre-math-rounds-math-meet-time went really well. There was lots of food, lots of fun, and lots of hysteria in general, except I believe that either Gretchen or Tea may have better things to say about this because I was rather, uh... anyway.

I will comment on the rounds though. Round 3 was really straightforward, except I did 36 - 8 in my head and got 24. No idea how that happened. Round 5 was also okay except the last question, and we did not have to know sin 75, although I do know it rather well (for the time being) thanks to Bryant's wonderfully descriptive circle (read: circle with four dots). Round 6 was also okay, although I probably flunked out on the math because I got the second question wrong.

But I'm on B-team, so who cares?

Also, while going into round 3, I waited outside for a while with a bunch of Treeburg people who were extremely tall. In matching hoodies. Argon suggested that we really should get hoodies for math team. Uh-huh. Keep on dreaming, Argon.

This is the end of my math meet recount. Someone else pick up from here?

. . .

P.s.: The 2010 midterm election results are out! But they were close to expected, so not too much surprise there.

. . .

And, of course, I mentioned NaNoWriMo, and I have been seeing it around plenty of times, so I suppose I could take part in it too. Except mine will probably be NaReallyShortAndDisjointedNoWriHalfMo, if that makes any sense. I'm sure it did.

I was supposed to have an outline and notes jotted down before November began to give me a head start or something, but since I have my characters already (yay for recycling) and I only really write about one plot, that is not extremely necessary.

So this is the first edition of my ReallyShortAndDisjointedNovel. AlsoKnownAsALongShortStory. NotEdited.

Allie's All About Apathy (note the alliteration?)

In the morning, I came upon the cliff my brother used to call "Judgment's Edge."

Or, if he was feeling creative, he would call it, "The place where all the moping people come to mope and all the idiots come to make stupid poetry about things they'll never understand."

He was never a creative one. It was either plain and straightforward, or he did not bother with it. And I never  knew how he put up with the stories we learned as little kids, but something must have stuck, because he remembered Judgment's Edge from a book our mother had read to us back when she still read. The book was about a boy and his two sisters, that was all I remembered. A boy and his two sisters, just like my brother Ciel, and my sister Celeste, and me.

I am not named after the sky. I am not a skychild. But in the book, the older brother and sister loved their youngest sister. They adored her. And that is all I remember from the book, aside from the ledge they called Judgment's Edge, where the brother and sisters went to pray for their mother's health.

Back then, we did not have to pray for our mother's health. These days, I did not have to either. I wondered if I had ever prayed for her.

I knew Ciel never prayed. Skychildren did not pray. They performed miracles because they were children of the sky. The ones who could survive anything. But Ciel did not pray, not because he believed himself invincible, but because he thought it was pointless. Or maybe the idea of it was too complex, too reliant on a faith he did not possess.

Faith brought me to here, I knew. A faith Ciel never took part in. The same faith—or lack thereof—that created this world.

Anna Marie.

I was in Anna Marie now. Kaniol. A hundred thousand worlds away from Nephria.

I was on Judgment's Edge, looking down on the glistening rooftops of the buildings of Anna Marie. The tall, pointy tower of the Sovereign's Castle. The sprawling gardens Seria Deshen took so much pride in maintaining. The grand magnolias of the DiGrant's front lawn. The town square. The bell tower of the library. The winding Crescentia that flowed through the east end of the city and sparkled under the morning sun.

It was beautiful. I wished I knew why Ciel wanted to leave here so badly.

To be continued next time I have something interesting to say.