I decided to clear out my icon space. I just had too many, and I'm not on here nearly as much as I'd like to be.

I think I've finally decided to submit that Dylan deviation. I started it in January 2006 (before... that... happened) and have done little adjustments up to very recently. I'm still not completely happy with it, as I feel I could never do him justice. The shadows seem a bit blotchy, and I can't fix it, as hard as I try. I should probably save this rant for the description, though, no?

In other news, I'm just getting over a sickness that caused me to lose my voice for about a week. Yay, lack of health insurance. I'm still a bit stuffy. The other day when I was lying on the floor being all sick, I looked over and noticed my shoes. I was bored, and the boringness of the shoes only exacerbated this, so I decided to re-lace them. They look kinda cool, now. I think so, anyway. *apologizes for cough medicine-induced rants*

So, strange story. Earlier this week, I got a credit card in the mail, and I had the usual, "Oh, great. I don't want it," reaction. However, upon closer inspection, I noticed it was preloaded. My name was on the card, "AMBER R CHANDLER", and under that it boldly stated, "50 DOLLARS". I was a bit incredulous, to say the least. Why would Visa send me fifty bucks in the mail? I didn't remember doing anything for this. There was no explanation in the papers it came with, nothing saying why I was receiving the card. I looked over their terms and conditions carefully. Once I decided that it seemed fairly catch-free, I went to the website it directed me to. After entering the card number and a few other small details, it showed me a bunch of personal information about myself, including my full name, address, phone number and the last four digits of my Social Security number. Whatever this was for, I figured, they definitely meant it for me. Still a bit wary, I confirmed the information was correct. It told me the card was now active. I peeled the sticker with the website off the card, and saw that it had a large U.S. Cellular logo on it. Weird, that's my cell phone provider. I tried to remember if there was anything I'd done that might have earned this. Maybe for referring Heather? Even though I really didn't? Maybe it was for my constant lack of service. I live in the second-deadest service area I know of -- second to Forsuk's house, which is where my phone is second-most to here. Secondsecondsecond. What a strange word. Anyway. I thought maybe they had a guarantee for that, and perhaps I was out of service so often that they somehow owed me. I'd noticed credits on my bill for this reason before. This was the only thing I could really deduce; I still didn't put two and two together. So, yesterday on my break (oh, by the way, I work at Tiger Direct now), I went to Chipotle and paid in cash -- cash I don't really have, but it's the cheapest place I could find within walking distance -- but on my way back to Tiger, I stopped at Barnes & Noble. I still had about a half an hour, twenty minutes at the least. I browsed their journals, because I've been looking for a good one for quite some time. Most were too expensive; the majority of the ones I really liked were twenty to thirty dollars, killing their beauty fairly instantly. With about ten minutes left in my break, I spotted one with a black leather cover that was only fifteen dollars. It closed with a leather string that wrapped around twice and tucked under itself. The pages, however, were a strange ecru/flax color. They were also split into four sections that just looked like paper that had been folded in half. I didn't really like it, but with time running down, I decided maybe its character would grow on me. But as I was turning to walk to the register, I made the discovery of a journal with pages that started dark gray, faded through light gray into white halfway through the pages, then back to dark gray. It had a soft, black cover that seemed leathery enough, though it was stiffer like a regular hardcover book, which I liked. A thick black rubberband -- kinda hair-tie looking -- held it shut. It was only ten dollars. It was perfect! How had I not seen it before, with fifteen minutes of searching? I put it under my arm (in place of the journal with the old-looking pages) and went to the register with the preloaded card in hand. I warned the guy that I got it in the mail, and I was concerned it might not even work, but I had cash just in case. It went through! I signed, happy that I seemed to have gotten fifty dollars for nothing. As I rushed back to Tiger to make sure I used my last five minutes in the back putting my stuff away, I started realizing I could finally get a couple things I'd been wanting from there. I could get a MicroSD card for my phone, now! After my discount, it'd be less than ten bucks. I should still be able to afford some photo paper, too. So, I went through the rest of the night intending to get these two things, whose total with tax would be about twelve dollars. The end of the night rolled around, and my dad showed up to take me home. I told him to hang on, I needed to get a couple things. He told me he didn't have any money, and I told him I was intending to pay for it myself. He asked where I got the money, and I told him briefly about the strange card I got in the mail. Suddenly, he got super-pissed and freaked out. Apparently this was HIS card; didn't he tell me? It was the rebate for his phone. Oh. Well. I really didn't know that. And how was I supposed to expect HIS rebate to show up at MY address with MY name on the card? He let me get the card and the paper, but I didn't exactly offer up the fact that I'd already bought a journal earlier that day. I'm sad, because I really didn't know it was his. Nothing in the envelope or the website indicated it was for anyone other than me, and I had no idea why it came at all. I thought I just got lucky, for once. So much for that.

I'll be twenty next month. This saddens me. I don't wanna be old. I already feel old... "And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking... racing around to come up behind you again. The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older, shorter of breath, and one day closer to death..." *sigh* Not that I'm afraid of dying. In some ways, I'd welcome it... I'm just not ready to accept the idea that these were supposed to be the best years of my life. God damn the inevitable.

On a more positive note, I got my license last week. w00t. Still no car or insurance. Hopefully, that will come shortly. Not as soon as I expected, however, thanks to Tiger not paying me when they were supposed to (now I have to wait two more weeks). Oh well. C'est la vie, right?

I realize most of the crap on here isn't so great. I'm considering a deviation holocaust. What do you think?

*****************

Friends.irl: