today was an interesting day. I'm just a little upset.

ms S P 1 c c a wanted us to write an essay about ourselves. This is what I really felt like writing:
Nicole is a common name. (at least in rgs) But I am uncommon! *cue cringe* I am interesting! witty! insightful! nice! [this word is neutral and all-encompassing] I like reading graphic novels which are actually graphic and dark. I like musicals like chicago, spamalot, the producers, wicked, spring awakening, grease, west side story, phantom, and a chorus line. I read SF! I listen to ACDC, nirvana and led zeppelin. Does this mean I'm obscure, and clever? Of course it does! Does it mean I'm obsessive? Hell yeah. Oh and by the way, I have lousy social skills. So don't talk to me, if you haven't noticed already. Did I tell you I read slash? I'm a snarry shipper! I also like exploring the dumbledore/ grindelwald relationship.

Some Things I Wrote in December:
There it was, The Tree. A gnarled, old, oak tree standing starkly against a background of azure sky. The wizened man with skin that had weathered a hundred winters was shuffling-- the result of arthritic joints. He gave a tired sigh. The end was near, and he felt it in his heart. The old man's movements were methodological and achingly slow, his breath coming in short bursts and a light film of sweat forming on his callused palms. There was a staff in his right hand, with elaborate carvings that seemed to move if you looked at it. The bottom of the staff had a carving of a birth in winter, above it, a young boy, and towards the middle of the staff, the image of the old man without a beard and with smoother skin. Right at the top of the staff was a crystal sphere, its insides filled with cloudy mist, which was forming and reforming into words and pictures. The mist was gradually coalescing into an image of the tree, in its wrinkled splendour. The old man's knees were bluckling under his own weight, even though shadows of his ribs protruded from his chest, and loose skin gathered around his knees and elbows. The knees finally gave way, and he fell, to the ground, crawling the last couple of yards to the tree's roots.