THIS IS THE ONE HUNDREDTH POST

Yay! The only way I have to celebrate is by posting the "Room Sweet Room" Chapter of my autobiography and rant a little about hungry stomach's. Isn't that obnoxious? When you are sitting in the middle of class, in this case creative writing where a creepy girl already stares at me and your stomach will just NOT SHUT UP! Oh my GOD! I ate something for breakfast, a nice little oatmeal cookie. I don't know why I am so hungry and I also don't know why I'm telling you what I ate for breakfast and also don't know why I am even typing this post and I also don't know what I'm even doing in this classroom and I don't know why I'm in this school or in this state or in this country or on this planet. I don't know why.

Ok, done with the rant, now for the chapter which I don't know why I wrote. (tee hee)





Room Sweet Room
Now, I must warn you, my room is a disaster area. If anyone but me enters it, they will either trip and break their neck and file a lawsuit against me. Or, they will be pulled into the abyss of my clothing, never to be seen or heard from ever again.
My room has pink walls, from a time when that was my favorite color. I cover my walls with posters, photographs, and drawings I’ve done. I also have a tradition, every time I begin typing a book with the intent to publish; the cover always goes on my wall.
There are four instruments in my room, a keyboard, a clarinet, a violin and a baritone. I guess you could say I am very musical.
An enormous bed takes up half of my room. It’s built about three feet up from the floor. I have managed to smack my hip and leg off it multiple times. My bed is painted green, my real favorite color. That bed is covered with stuffed animals because I am not ready to let go of that little girl on the inside of me.
All around my room, scattered on the floor, in bins or on my bookshelf are books, books, and more books. I love to read, whenever I have money, it’s spent on books. I have Michael Crichton, as well as Nicholas Sparks. I have every Stephenie Meyer book she ever wrote, as well as J.K. Rowling. I have barely known authors and highly renowned authors. I’ve got a little bit of everything, horror, romance, adventure, sci-fi, you name it, I’ve got it. Only my favorite books get on the shelves though.
Near my door, which isn’t a real door, it’s a folding door like the ones you see on closets; I have a tall tower-like set of shelves. On top of that tower sits my television, whose DVD player I broke by accidentally throwing the remote at it.
That’s my room in all its glorious glory.