Hello, my Hunters! How are things going for you? It’s going all right for me. Today I’m excited to collaborate with my friend Emily to bring you a little something called “Playlist Swap.” Em and I gave each other seven songs, and now I’m going to listen to the ones she chose for me for the first time (or at least the ones I haven’t heard before anyway), and tell you my thoughts. It’s basically going to be a live reaction thing, so I’m pretty excited. :3 Be sure to check out Em’s side of the collab as well, as she takes a look at the songs that I chose for her. ^.^ Also, special thanks to Kenechi for introducing me to this super-fun activity! If you guys want to try it out too, go right ahead!
Especially birthdays where nothing’s going on. It’s a perfectly ordinary day, and you’re doing your usual things. But there’s this voice in the back in your mind saying, “This is not an ordinary day. This is not an ordinary day.” And you’re just like, “Well what am I supposed to do about it??”
I’m bored. And stir crazy. Even if I don’t catch the virus, I think I’m coming down with a serious case of cabin fever. So to help combat it, here’s a blog post. It will mostly be life updates plus whatever else these fingers decide to punch into my computer.
One day, when I was a wee lass (like eleven or twelve), I picked up a Magic Tree House book (anyone remember those?) set in historical Japan and read it. It was then when I discovered the art form of short yet unique poetry known as the haiku. By the time I finished reading the book, my creative juices were already starting to churn. I picked up the nearest notebook and composed my very first haiku. . .
It was a quiet Christmas morning for a certain girl and her family in the southern United States. They were unwrapping presents and enjoying each other’s company in general — nothing out of the ordinary, really.
But after no more parcels remained under the stout fir — and ribbons and bits of paper littered the floor — the father, with a mischievous look on his usually placid visage, rose from his chair and approached his daughter. “One last gift,” he said, and he pulled out of his pocket an object of otherworldly material about the width of a Saltine cracker. “I’m sure you know how it works.”