I really am too analytical, aren't I?

I've found myself really over-thinking everything lately. Take my second viewing of The Hunger Games with my dad. I'd lean over sporadically throughout the movie and explain what was happening or how it differed from the novel in a whisper. And after the movie, since he most likely would not read the books or see the next three movies, he asked for a summary. I jumped right in, of course. And along with the plot, I described the characters' thoughts and how they affected their actions, and the way they viewed the world, as well as their general personalities. Characters are so important to me. If you have flat, bland characters that never seem to change or grow, then I don't like the book half as much as I would when you feel involved. And along with the "charries," I also explained the setting and the general layout of Panem, where we would live inside of it, and where other landmarks that exist today would be. This dragged into about half an hour, and Dad had already finished his sandwich and sees no point in sitting inside of Chik-Fil-A any longer than necessary. But Roxy and Mom jumped in and saved him from my obsessive, calculating, fangirl-y rant.

And it's not just THG. I do this with absolutely everything now, fiction or reality. I'm starting to see my family, friends, and myself as charries in one humongous story, all interacting with each other, growing up, falling in love. We are all drawn to each other because we complement each other, I've realized. The talkative ones (like many of my friends) like quieter ones who will listen; the more reserved ones (like me) enjoy never having to start the conversation or run out of things to talk about. But we also share common ground in a few areas, and that helps us trust and open up to each other.

It's just a wonderful thing when you can see how the world works at last.

*RANT ALERT* I don't have a 4.0. Sue me.

Dear Parents (and all the rest of you),
Let's talk. Or rather, let me talk to you from the comfort of my computer. I know full well I am not perfect. I would be more than happy to declare myself "imperfect" and go and live in Imperfectland with the rest of humanity. But you're saying I can't go there. I'm not allowed to go and live in the Land of Human Beings Who Are Not Gods because I'm too good for that, and I need to prove that to you. I need to show the rest of the world how well I can comprehend things by making good grades.

First of all, do the ratings on that stupid blue paper measure who I am as a person? Do those numbers and letters spell out the value of my character? You insist no, no, of course not, but they still need to be better. If you love me as unconditionally as you say you do, you would still love me the same way you do now if I dropped out of school and went off to follow an insane dream I had after a really bad drug trip. But I have this strange feeling you wouldn't. Those numbers are too important.

Second, you still comment on my brain at times. If I'm as stupid as those pointless ratings make me out to be, why do you still bother to say anything?

Third, one of you has said to me, quote, "A C for you is like an F for anybody else." What makes me so special? There are probably thousands of kids much smarter than me out in the world that don't have these special exceptions. I don't see that much value in me, and I have no idea where you're getting it from.

In conclusion, I would like to say that when I'm buried, nobody is going to care how well I did in one particular class, or how low you had to stoop because of my inability to turn things in on time. I would love to just enjoy life while it lasts and not get hung up on stupid stuff like this. I mean, I have problems as it is. Not to be too whiney, but I have five friends at school. Total. And even then, some of them are only halfway friends. People walk all over me, too, because I don't like saying no and I don't change for them because it feels like I'm lying. There is so much I need to figure out about my faith, my relationships, and myself, and as soon as I feel like I can stand up and breathe fully, then everything will fall into place. You can take IMPACT away from me, my iPod, my freedom, but maturity comes by God, not by choice.

Your daughter,
Darby Kate

P.S: When I handed my teacher the recommendation you made for Honors Lit, she laughed. Laughed. 

The Blogging Hiatus

I'm not even going to bother apologizing for being offline for so long. Too much time is wasted apologizing for not writing sooner. I will simply cut to the chase and update any readers I have left, or am making up, and update you all on the last few months.

Since September, I have made almost no considerable accomplishments, save pulling my grade up in Language Arts from an F to a C. With my teacher, this is a considerable accomplishment. She is retiring, at least for a month. If she decides to return in February as a half-day Advanced Content teacher, at least ninth grade honors literature will seem easy. Whoopee.

But I've had an enjoyable holiday thus far. I didn't receive the "big" present I'd been hoping for, a camera, but I got a camera pencil sharpener instead. I also obtained a Jane Austen-themed diary which should do me for five years, a button maker, rhubarb-flavored lip gloss, and over 50 paint chips. Eclectic, I know. But the paint chips are the promise of a new tomorrow, of a new bedroom, of a new life. They are the best present I have ever acquired from the old fat man. Literally. THE best. Ever.

I will now depart to watch Harry Potter. Hasta luego, imaginary readers.

Look what I just made!!!

http://prezi.com/u39t1beap0cy/edit/#21

A rather graphic summary

I guess I should give you some background information about my newest story endeavor before I start.

Picture a Panem-esque world. Let's call it...uh...I'm not sure what to call it yet. Any ideas, drop me a line, my few and faithful readers. But that's beside the point! So we're in a very Communistic, poor area of this country in the quiet beginnings of a revolution. Led by kids, naturally. If you see any similarities between yourself and any characters, that's probably intentional. You're a hero, most likely, but if you make me mad, that could change...(cue dramatic eyebrow wiggle.) My oh my, do you ever ramble, Miss Franks! Rosalynn Ingram (me) is 14 years old, not exceptionally well fed, strong, or fit to lead the revolution. Yet, somehow, she gets stuck in this super-important position and is always high-strung and tense. Her sister, Roxana (my sistah, naturally) is 10, a bit of a motormouth, and adorable. Don't even question the latter. There's also Reed Collins (Hi Reid! If you're reading this, don't worry, I'm making your character awesome!), 14, the supergenius who has the "Seam look" to him, dark hair, olive skin, grey eyes; Kitty (Hi Katie!) Moss, 14, who can heal anything you hand her, and Ash, 16. You'll find out about him later...

The villans are the Brutes, an army of red suits with one goal in mind: do anything your commanding officer tells you. There's also the Leader of All Peoples, or the LAP, and his band. He works underground, messing with our attempts to bring him and his rigged government down indirectly. He doesn't like to get his hands dirty, you could say. And now, picture him with the ability to kill people, no weapons, purely with the powers of his MIND. He's pretty evil, but cool in the way only a supervillan can be cool. And 5 kids are trying to take him down.

You're uuber-interested, I can tell. 

You can find my book, page-by-page, on here or on Facebook. Look up Darby Franks, there aren't too many of 'em.

lovelovelove,

Darby

The Katie Tomlin Look-Alike Contest has a WINNER!!!

Got a keratin treatment done today. Nearly 4 hours of combing and pulling and snipping gets me stick-straight hair a lot like my friend Katie's. Here are the results:

It feels nice to have hair swishing over my face, even if it's a really bland brown with absolutely zero tones or highlights in it! They also had to snip off 2 inches of raggedy broken ends. NOT FUN. But whatevah! It'll be nice to have no more dense mats of thick curls right against my scalp for a little while. :D