Taxes Suck When You're Out on Your Own

Seriously.

I filed my taxes online yesterday, hoping to get at least half the returns I got last year (about $1,100 for federal, and about $200 for state). No dice. It seems that moving out of my parents' house is bad for my tax return.

I have to pay the IRS $8 this year, and the Comptroller of Maryland gets $88 of my hard-earned paycheck this coming weekend. Add to that the $7.77 I had to pay CitizenTax to e-File the Federal return, and that comes to $103.77 total tax costs for me this year.

I was so hoping I could split my returns two or three ways and take a substantial chunk out of my various debts (especially my car payment), but alas, 'tis not to be.

This totally sucks.

Written Works Posted!

Since I only got one vote (thanks, Heather!), and that one vote was a positive one, I decided to post all of my written works here on the blog. You can see the different categories listed in the menu on the right. If you click on a category, you will be taken to a single entry, listing all of my writing from that category, with links. Click on the links in the entry, and you'll be taken to the individual entries for that story, poem, or whatever.

All of the previously-written works are back-dated to January 1, 2007, since that was before I started this blog. I did that so that my regular posts would stay at the top of the blog. Any updates and new writings will keep their original posting dates, and I will simply add links to those entries in the appropriate categories.

If you want to review, please leave a comment on the individual story. I'll appreciate any and all constructive criticism as well, even on the stuff I never plan to look at again.

Another Strange Dream (or three)--Plus a Question

I had another strange dream last night (and the night before, but I couldn't remember it well enough to recount it). I don't know what's made me have such strange dreams so frequently lately. I mean, I've been getting more sleep in the last three nights than usual. Could that be it? I actually went to bed at eleven the last three nights! That never happens, since I consider my bed time between midnight and one in the morning.

Anyway, last night's dream:

I think I was a teacher or something (Yikes! I don't have any desire to be a teacher!) because I was chaperoning a bunch of kids on a field trip. And where, pray tell, was this field trip? Oh, only Jurassic Park. *rolls eyes at subconscious* I have no idea why my brain came up with that.

The first part I remember about the dream is that there were these little four-wheeler things that could hold four kids (or three kids plus me). We were being attacked by the T-Rex, but we got away and decided to get out of the little vehicles for a rest and some lunch.

Then, this Pterodactyl-thing (it didn't have feet, only wings and a body--and yes, I spelled that without looking it up!) came up, walking on its bottom wing-tips, and started to peck at everybody. So, we all scrambled back into the vehicles, and I told the kids to get to the main building as fast as they could.

We got there, then the next part of the "field trip" was this maze which was accessed through the main building. I think they were supposed to be hunting some of the dinosaurs or something, but (and this part is a bit disturbing) the kids ended up turning on each other! I managed to get all of my group out, but by the time the parents had come to pick everybody up, there were body parts strewn all through that maze. Why in the heck would my subconscious come up with something like that?!?

At this point, the dream changed. I dreamed that I was caught up in a storm. Or maybe, I was controlling the storm, because once the storm was over, I just walked around, then I walked back to the place that I'd started walking and I knew exactly which roads to take to get home from there--only I asked for a ride the rest of the way. During my travels though, I visited a lot of people, sometimes just in their yards, but sometimes I walked right into their houses unannounced. I even came upon a toddler's birthday party in a kitchen once.

The dream changed again, and this time, I knew exactly why I'd dreamed what I dreamed--because I was reading Lois & Clark fanfic and posting on the L&C Fanfic Message Boards before I went to sleep.

Clark Kent was missing Lois Lane for some reason. I was sitting there watching them as they talked. They were both very sad. Lois was committing herself, and Clark was begging her to stay and talk about the problem with him, because it was the same problem he had--their daughter had died in some sort of accident, and he hadn't been there in time to save her or something.

It was around then that I woke up.

Now, the question . . .

As some of you (or all, depending on how many/few people actually read this blog) know, I write fanfiction. I have it posted in various places, some here, some there, and some just sitting on my hard drive. For years, I've been meaning to make up a website where I can keep all of it and not worry about which fandom it's for. But I can never seem to keep up with the site updates well enough, so I just let those old sites die.

Anyway, my question is, would any of you actually be interested in reading my stories if I posted them here (with tags for the different fandoms/stories, and links on the side bar) so that I could keep them all together? Or would you prefer if I found some place else (not fanfiction.net) like maybe fanficauthors.net or some other high-quality multi-fandom fanfic site to post my stories, and then put a link in the side bar here?

Where did that come from? . . . It was kinda fun!

No, this is not a post about my Christmas. I haven't really figured out what to say about that--there really isn't that much to say anyway.

What this post is about, however, is a dream I had last night.

When it started, I was in this building. I think it was a combination of all the schools I'd ever gone to or something, 'cause it looked a lot like a school, only bigger. Then, when I went outside, I found myself at this really swanky outdoor party. There was a fountain and everything.

But the weird part is, there was also this huge parking lot with lots of expensive cars in it. Now that I think on it, that was weird too--I mean, why would anyone keep such expensive cars outside, instead of in a garage?

Anyway, this kid started bugging me, then ran away, so I was looking for him. Then all of a sudden this guy starts talking to me out of nowhere. I turn around, and the guy looks like Michael Keaton for some reason. And he's got this kid with him (different from the one I'd been looking for), around late teens, early twenties.

I gasp, and say something like, "Um, uh . . . Mr. Wayne!" because, apparently I was at Wayne Manor. The kid was probably one of the Robins, and I don't know why, but he called Bruce "Dad" in my presence, which was even weirder.

So Wayne says something about my car being towed (I had apparently left it sitting in the streets of Gotham), and asks if I want to drive to get it back, handing me this ring full of keys as he gets into one of the cars on the lot, a Porsche, or that's what he said. I don't know one expensive car from the other, so the cars in my dreams probably really weren't Porsches.

Then, he points to a car that goes with the key he'd stuck up for me in the ring . . . only I'd accidentally dropped the key ring and didn't see which car he'd pointed at. I did hear him and Robin saying something about "the 100" though, which didn't make any sense at all, but I guess it had something to do with the car he'd pointed out.

Anyway, "Robin" leads me to this car. It was supposed to be green, but looked more cream-colored to me, and I try the key which is the one I think Bruce handed to me. No dice.

I try another one, and the doors unlock. So me and the Robin guy get in the car, and follow Bruce Wayne in the red "Porsche" he'd gotten into around the parking lot a few times. I remember chuckling to myself and saying to the Robin guy (either in my head or out loud, I don't remember) that it would be funner if one of the cars was the Batmobile. We finally made our way to this really messed-up alley way with bricks laying around and the manhole open in the middle of the street and such.

There's this weird-lookin' bike there, and a couple of cars, but mine isn't there. So I get on the bike thing, and thank Mr. Wayne before . . . I wake up.

I don't know where that dream came from. The last time I had anything to do with anything even remotely Batman-related was a few days ago, when I read a couple of stories from LaraMoon's Lois & Clark fanfic series called, "Clark Kent is Batman . . . NOT!" And a week or two before that, I'd dubbed the original Batman movie from a home-recorded VHS to a DVD. But anything I'd been doing the past few days had been pretty much strictly Lois & Clark.

Strange.