Lost in a maze of a thousand rainy days

Lost in a maze of a thousand rainy days

I've started to think about what books I want to bring to school with me, and I've also been considering the fact that no matter what I bring, I probably won't have time to read it.  And I've been thinking about how British terms are so much better than American terms ("ice lolly" for "popsicle", "jumper" for "sweater") and about details and how some people (like my mother and certain writers) find it necessary to provide too much and how when you're reading you can skim and skip over it, but when someone's talking to me I have to listen to them.  And that's all completely obvious, isn't it?  I think myself in circles sometimes, and forcing myself to blog everyday is really just forcing myself to write it down and try to make sense of it, even though it'll never make any sense.

Right now I'm thinking about cliches in storytelling and how you can break them, or how you can use them and twist them around so they don't seem cliched anymore.  That probably doesn't make any sense.  How does apparition work in the rain?  What if it's snowing?  Sometimes I forget that magic, at least in that sense, isn't real and I start to pick out all of the things that the books never actually explained.  All the little technicalities.  I keep bumping my hip on the counter in my bathroom, and today I nearly knocked over a lamp.  And now I think I've accurately depicted what the thoughts in my head look like.