I woke up this morning with a raging, splitting, UNGODLY headache.
I've been inexplicably freezing all day.
I can't, with any methods, make myself warm again. My face, however, is BOILING HOT.
Finally, I went upstairs and got my thermometer. At first I saw "00.9". Then "01.5". That sort of thing. I'm like, "... well, that would explain why I'm so cold, but... wouldn't I be dead?"
Then it hit me.

I didn't see the 1 in front of the numbers.

I have a 101.9 degree fever.
Bed, I think, is a good idea.

I am a theist. I believe very strongly in God. It is a part of who I am. I couldn't honestly tell you how I came to this belief -- I can't decide whether it was a sudden realization or a gradual process, since both could apply. However it occured, all I know is that it has occured and it makes me happy.

But it is not infallible. That's a point I have failed to articulate properly many times, and it has cost me. My religion and my God cannot explain everything. I do not have all the answers. I don't claim to. If you ask me how life began or what happens after we die, I'll tell you honestly that I don't know, and never have.

That does not mean, though, that I will stop believing in God.

I mean it. I'm not afraid of a little uncertainty in life. (Well, okay, I am -- I would LOVE to find out what happens after death. Scares the shit out of me, not knowing.) But I'm not going to abandon my faith because it doesn't offer me all the answers to everything. Atheism offers just as many definite answers as theism does, and theism makes me happier. I am comforted by the belief that someone up there is looking out for me, taking care of me. Somebody up there loves me, and protects me, and that makes me feel happy. Hymns and worship music fill me with light and joy, thanking God for everything makes me feel connected; I love everything about theism, even its ambiguity. If I were an atheist, I would ONLY have that ambiguity, and nothing else. And that's not good enough for me.

Now that I've found God, I can't imagine living without him. My faith is so deeply ingrained in me now, and so much a part of me, that I cannot imagine how people can live without faith themselves. Perhaps that's a failing in me, but I try not to let it adversely affect the way I interact with people. I hate being told I'm wrong about things that no one can prove with any certainty, so I try not to say that sort of thing myself. God may be a huge presence in MY life, but not in someone else's. I try to respect that.

It makes me angry and hurt, then, when atheists (not all, but some) try to prove that I am wrong, and I get sucked into a theological debate. My evidence is always rejected, since I can't prove it really happened, or since I can't make it apply to more than just me. I don't care what anyone else believes! That's their business! I don't even object to Scientology's belief system (this is true -- I object to the fact that it's a dangerous cult, but we'll get to that in another entry). I try never to tell people that their belief system (or lack thereof) is "wrong" in any way. I expect the same courtesy, and it hurts when I don't get it. They don't know any better than I do, and I don't know any better than they do.

I have had my doubts about my God, don't get me wrong. I have had my crises of faith, times when I have wondered if these atheists I'm talking about were right and that I was, in fact, wrong. But the fact that a walk, some prayer, and a six-minute hymn immediately restored my beliefs tells me that I'm not wrong. I don't think so, anyway, and that's what matters. My personal faith is stronger and more meaningful to me than all the naysayers.

They can say whatever they want -- that's their right.

I don't have to listen -- that's mine.

OMG OMG OMG OMG I FEEL SO VALIDATED.

Jeph Jacques (qcjeph) just totally replied to a comment I made on one of his posts: here's the thread to prove it. He noticed me. Not only that, but he thought about my suggestion and made a reply.

I feel so fucking important, you guys. This is seriously the biggest fucking thing that's ever happened to me.

And that is kind of sad.

--

EDIT: And now, of course, I'm disappointed in myself for listening to Lady Gaga. I SHOULD BE LISTENING TO SOMETHING COOLER NOW THAT JEPH FUCKING JACQUES NOTICED ME.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me (presuming I'm someone you like). You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "My life according to (band name)"

Pick your Artist:
The Beatles

Describe yourself:
The Fool On The Hill

How do you feel:
I'm So Tired

Describe where you currently live:
Octopus's Garden

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Across The Universe

Favorite Method of Transportation
Drive My Car

Your best friend:
Nowhere Man

You and your best friends are:
Something

What's the weather like:
Here Comes The Sun

Favorite time of day:
Good Night

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Fixing A Hole

What is life to you:
The Long And Winding Road

Your relationship:
Two Of Us

How I would like to die:
When I'm Sixty-Four

My motto:
Think For Yourself

Thought for the Day:
Why Don't We Do It In The Road?

OKAY. So I know I just (literally JUST) updated this thing but I am TOO FULL OF RAGE.

Okay. So I'm on Facebook, posting the below joke as a note to show all of my friends, when I see this sidebar ad for an online game where you can command space fleets as an Admiral. The headline is "Star Trek fan?" and it seems generally Trek-ish. All is well and good. UNTIL I SEE THIS PICTURE.



THAT, my friends, looks a hell of a lot like the Death Star. Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't that Star WARS, not Star TREK?!

GET YOUR FACTS STRAIGHT, FACEBOOK. Now I know why they don't call you FACTbook... aside from the fact that that'd be a stupid name.

THE POINT IS. I AM ANGRY ABOUT THIS.

So there was this girl who was on this game show. It was sort of a dating show, mixed with one of those shows where you have a Mystery Prize ("Would you like to take this definite prize, or risk it all for what's behind DOOR NUMBER ONE!?!"). She was getting to the final round, in which you have to choose either a Bachelor to have a date with, or pull a secret lever, which will either drop you down a trapdoor -- meaning you lose -- or open a door to reveal a spectacular prize, like a sports car or a million dollars. The girl had met all three of the Bachelors: Ivan, Jacob, and Nathan. Although she was very tempted by the possible big prize, she was also afraid of falling and cautious by nature.

The host asked her, "So, what'll it be? Will you pick one of the Bachelors, or will you pull the secret lever?"

She thought for a while, and then answered, "I don't think I want to risk pulling the secret lever. Instead, I think I'll go on a date with Nathan. He's the Bachelor I like most."

"That's an interesting choice. What makes you choose that?" asked the host.

"Oh, well, you know," said the girl. "Better Nate than lever."

*ba-dum-TSHH!*

So last night I had another dream in which I was sobbing uncontrollably. I don't even remember what caused it. I only remember crying like my heart was broken. I've had a dream like that before, but I remember what happened to cause it. It was my friend Esther -- I dreamed she'd killed herself. That happened in the very beginning of the dream, and the rest of it was just spent with me doing normal daily activities (driving to school, sitting in my room, all that), only I was sobbing.

What is the deal with this? Why does my subconscious like to make me cry in my dreams?

Life: Shuffled Music Player
(Turn Your Music Player on shuffle and answer w/ songs)

Random
Your Name Is?:
The Bells of Notre Dame (Reprise) -- Hunchback of Notre Dame OST
How Old Are You?:
The Ballad of Jack and Diane -- John Mellencamp
[Teenager? I dunno. Old enough to get preggers.]

I Am Labeled What?:
Mean Mr. Mustard -- The Beatles

Do You Think You're Messed Up?:
Everyday -- Buddy Holly
[seriously, all the time.]

Your Family Thinks You Are?:
Jet Pack -- Eve 6
[no idea what this means.]

Friends think you are?:
Crazy Man Michael -- Natalie Merchant
[crazy with homocidal (hehe, homo) tendencies.]

Teachers (Past or Present) Think You Are?:
A Hard Day's Night -- The Beatles
[... I don't know what to say to that.]

Strangers Say To You:
Tubular Bells, Part 1 -- Mike Oldfield
[something creepy.]

Your Mom:
Happiness Is A Warm Gun -- Across the Universe

What song do you listen to when you're bored?:
Wrap Your Arms Around Me -- Barenaked Ladies

Happy?:
The Golden Wood -- LotR OLC
[nope.]

Sad?:
The Fool On The Hill -- The Beatles

Excited?:
Democracy -- Leonard Cohen

Lazy?:
Rose -- James Horner

Paranoid:
You Won't See Me -- The Beatles
[depends on what I'm paranoid about. if it's about a lady, then yes.]

People are:
Diver Boy -- Natalie Merchant

Everyday is:
She's Leaving Home -- The Beatles
[why the hell am I getting so many Beatles songs?]

Right Now You Are:
Strange Disease -- Prozzak
[hehe.]

I Wish I Was:
Santa Fe -- Rent

Candy Is:
And He Shall Smite The Wicked -- Hunchback of Notre Dame OST
[whoa... overreactious much?]

Love Is:
Hurt -- Johnny Cash
[D:]

You Like:
Bang -- Eve 6
[*SNORT*]

Are You In A Relationship?:
The Beach Song -- Sean Cullen
[...]

If You've Ever Been In Love, How Was It:
Falling For You -- Weezer
[<3 Yup.]

Girls Or Guys?:
Wheay -- Sean Cullen
[I just gotta say wheay.]

Just a quick note to point out the new layout -- Merry Wintermas! -- and the new userpic. I have two new ones, but this is my new default because I like it. :D Yay Wash!

Also I have a very sore jaw due to going to the dentist today and getting a filling. It's not the tooth itself that hurts so much as the place they put the needle for the freezing. It's all pain. D:

Anyhoodle. Just wanted to pop in and say those things. Ta!

I'm not taking my previous post down. The person it was directed at apparently found it. Good for him. It's stuff he needs to hear. I don't care if he doesn't talk to me again; lately all he does is make me angry and hurt, so cool! I have Sarah (and yes, I am going to mention my girlfriend's name in my livejournal, so SUCK IT) and I have Ashley. So I'll be sitting alone for a few weeks. That's fine: I'll start bringing books to school. PROBLEM SOLVED. And yes, I'll miss editing his novel, but he'll miss me being there too. Eventually things will work out. And if they don't... who cares? I'm so tired of giving a shit about this stupid highschool hurt-feelings stuff. Get over it.

My lemon has an eyepatch. This is srs bizness.

EDIT: That, and the post in question was written before all of this happened. Before we made up, before you started being angry at me, and before I was with Sarah. It was, in fact, incited by something that you probably don't even remember. LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP ALREADY, DUDE.

I have to say something, about someone who today was very, very mean to me. However, I don't like airing my dirty laundry in public. I am comforted by the fact that absolutely no one reads this blog, so here we are. I'll put it here.

Okay, here goes.

You are a jerk. And that upsets me, because you're my best friend. So either you're just impressively stupid and unobsevant, and honestly do not realize how much you hurt me sometimes, or I just have really shitty taste in friends. You act as if every single thing I say is directly meant to hurt you. You make me feel so guilty for daring to give an opinion that contradicts yours, and make me apologize until I'm blue in the face, and still you act like a wounded puppy. And yet, oh, and yet, when you say something horrendously sexist, homophobic (which amazes me, since last I checked you were gay too), or just plain insulting, you insist that *I* am in the wrong for daring to be hurt. You claim that it's best just to ignore me while I'm offended, because there's "nothing you can do" to calm me down.

What's that? APOLOGIZE? Perish the thought.

You made me feel so guilty for the past few weeks, because I missed a few lunch periods with you. I have other commitments besides you! You act like I take everything wildly out of proportion, when I don't! I object to you being hideously sexist; I object to you insisting I just "turn straight"; I object to you calling me mean when you ask for my honest opinion and I give it. And I definitely, DEFINITELY object to you calling me a "bitch" simply because I don't want to watch some stupid YouTube video! I'm busy. My entire life does not revolve around you. I am not sitting here anxiously waiting for you to fill the void that is my computer time. I am doing something else.

I have one other friend. She needs me sometimes. I cannot simply abandon her because you're jealous! She's my friend too. And she's never called me a bitch, bee tee dubs. I don't care that you "don't like her"; you don't even know her name! You've BARELY SPOKEN TO HER. Feel free to not like her. The fact is, *I* like her. And that is what matters. I am not obligated to be your friend and only your friend. Moreover, I am perfectly allowed to make new friends! I said another boy was my "favourite", and you became the most uppity jerk I've ever seen in my life. He was nice to me that day! I was happy! GET OVER IT, YOU FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN.

Moreover, I am allowed to have personal space. I allow you to kiss me goodbye and hang on me, but don't act as though I've stabbed your dog in the face whenever I move away. I don't like boys, and I don't feel any satisfaction in your constant clinginess and your forced affection. I'll hug you, sure, but don't act as though I'm deliberately trying to hurt you when I edge away. It makes me uncomfortable sometimes. Deal with it.

I am allowed to date whomever I choose. If that offends you or makes you jealous or whatever idiotic excuse you have this time, I don't care. It is my life. It is my heart. It will go to someone of my choosing. You have no say in the matter. That does NOT give you the right to put yourself in danger to spite me. You know how sick it makes me when you threaten to meet up with these probable pedophiles. You only threaten me with this, I am sure, because you know I'll agree to anything if you scare me enough. That's cruel and manipulative.

I don't know why I number you among my best friends, and yet I do. But don't look for me tomorrow. I will be sitting in the cafeteria, alone at a table of my own, reading and listening to music and repeating all of this over to myself so I don't come crawling back to you. Maybe it'll change on Friday, but that's another day.

So long.

I stole this from rosalarian, a webcomic artist I like. That's all the prior information you need.

NAME
Angel Summers.

AGE
Eighteen.

LOCATION
Ontario, Canada. And that's all the details I care to give out on the interwebs. Though if people ask me what state I live in, I say "denial".

OCCUPATION
I don't have a job, but I'm in school full-time.

PARTNER
Single, not enjoying it.
EDIT: No longer single. Sarah! <3

KIDS
I'd like some, but I don't need them.

BROTHERS/SISTERS
Allison, 24. Big into pottery. Lives with her boyfriend and three cats.
Polly, 20. Living at home taking a few university courses online. Not my favourite.

PETS
Bearcat, so named because we used to have a teeny black kitten (unfortunately deceased), and when the two were next to each other Bearcat looked like a bear compared to Kitten.


LIST THE 3/5 BIGGEST THINGS GOING ON IN YOUR LIFE.
1: Playing the Ghost in Hamlet. Not liking it. Wish it to be over.
2: Editing two novels, both by the same dude. One is Lost Child and is almost done, the other is Glass and is just beginning.
3: Playing Egeus in my school's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Enjoying it much more than Hamlet.
4: Very behind in school, panicking about university.
5: SELF-DISCOVERYYYY.


PARENTS
My mom, Justine. Auditor for the government. Extracts taxes from people. The sad thing is, if we were in Robin Hood, she'd be the Sheriff of Nottingham.
My dad, Andy. Turned 52 yesterday. One of my best friends and confidants. A computer engineer.

WHO ARE SOME OF YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS?
Justin, my novelist.
Ashley, my feminist.
My dad.

So, there's this beautiful blonde girl on my bus going downtown from school. I've written a few poems based on her. She's pale and she's got blue eyes and full lips, and she's very, very pretty. But the thing that strikes me the most about her is the fact that she always looks really sad. And I just want to go up to her one day and say, "Hi, you don't know me, but I've seen you on this bus a lot. We get off at the same stop. I was just wondering -- are you okay? You look so sad every time I see you. Can I help at all?"

It probably wouldn't go well -- I'd come across as some sort of creeper who freaks people out, but... still. She just looks miserable, all the time. I want to ask her what's wrong. I want to make her smile.

Am I crazy? Is this a bad idea?

I had two very strange dreams last night, and now I'm going to tell you about them.

The first one wasn't that strange. I dreamed I was in the movie Mulan, and it was at the point right after "A Girl Worth Fighting For", when they come across the battlefield in which Shang's father had been killed. We'd just found Shang's father's helmet, and he was broken up about it. I, as Mulan, for some reason had a knife shaped like a coathanger. This will be important later. Anyway, Shang was mourning his father, and a few other soldiers were not showing respect. I turned on them, threatened them with my coathangerknife, and told them in essence to shut the fuck up. They kept laughing -- "ooooh, I'm REALLY scared now" -- but I kept eye contact, leaned in closer, and threatened them again with my coathangerknife. It worked, and they shut up. For some reason, then, we ended up in real!Angel's bedroom, going to bed. These kids still did whatever I said because my powers of intimidation were JUST THAT GOOD. We all snuggled into bed together (I got most of the covers because a. it's my dream, and b. I'm awesome) and we fell asleep. It is then that I had the second dream.

This was the strangest. I was driving to what looked like a convenience store, with my dad. I grabbed four dollars from my wallet (all loonies) and said that I'd be right back. At this point, real!Angel is assuming I'm going to buy chocolate and Diet Coke or something. Not so. I go into the store and all it sells is books. This doesn't faze dream!Angel at all, and we go on with our shopping. I go through the aisles, looking for a book to read. I stumble on those books you get when you're a kid, teaching you about controversial topics like homosexuality and racism. I see one about homosexuality and my inner monologue makes a statement to this effect: "I never really understood those books when I was a kid. Why did I need a book about people like me? Why couldn't I just be me?"

Then the scene changed. I was this omnipresent being looking around at a scene from one of these books. I think it was about people in China and homosexuality, but they didn't look much like Chinese people. But from what I can recall, the narration was saying "In China, there are lots of gay people" or something. (Amusingly, I am now realizing, the lesbians I was dreaming about were fairies.) I wasn't really listening to the narration, though. In any case, I was looking down on these cartoonish, blonde fairies planting seeds in a garden. They looked at each other and kissed, and then smiled and started flying through their garden, holding hands. (Another fairy mysteriously joined them at this point; threesome?) The fairy dust they spread behind them looked like dandelion fluff, which turned into blue glowy seeds, which then turned into more fairies. Must've been some sort of mating ritual. Neat!

Then my view switched to, I swear to god, a cartoon version of Henry VIII strangling Anne Boleyn. I am not making this up. He got in the way of the fairy seeds. They went up his nose as dandelion fluff, he sneezed them out as the blue glowy things, and they flew a short while before creating more fairies. They were really angry at him for strangling Anne, and so they surrounded him. The narration was saying that these fairies were the reason Henry VIII --

And then I woke up and had no idea what had been going on. Lesbian fairies apparently killed Henry VIII. Rock on.

So, I don't know what on earth was going on in Dream #2, apart from my recent annoyance that there's no real mainstream literature featuring a lesbian couple, and the fact that we've been studying Anne Boleyn in my History and Film class. The interesting thing is that the cartoon fairies were drawn in a way that reminded me very strongly of Megan Gedris's style (the girl who draws YU+ME: dream and I Was Kidnapped By Lesbian Pirates From Outer Space!, and who's really very good and you should check her out), so take that as you will. But, as I say, Dream #1 makes a lot more sense. In Hamlet (the play I'm in right now), I'm playing the Ghost, and I'm really struggling with the part. I'm supposed to be really intimidating and dominating, and the way I was acting in Dream #1 was exactly what I'm supposed to do IRL. Also, I watched Mulan a week or so ago, so that explains that.

And yeah. Weird stuff.

EDIT: I just remembered another dream I had! About Stephen Fry! Apparently, it was a celebrity edition of Jeopardy and I was on it with him, and I was so happy. And after the show he gave me an autograph. The weird thing was that he was TOTALLY SILENT as he did it. Barely even smiled. Just signed it, gave it to me, and moved on. I was half-hurt and half-OVERWHELMED WITH JOY AT HAVING MET STEPHEN FRY. So, there that is.

All The Diamonds -- Bruce Cockburn

All the diamonds in this world
That mean anything to me
Are conjured up by wind and sunlight
Sparkling on the sea

I ran aground in a harbour town
Lost the taste for being free
Thank God he sent some gull-chased ship
To carry me to sea

Two thousand years
And half a world away
Dying trees still
Grow greener when you pray

Silver scales flash bright and fade
In reeds along the shore
Like a pearl in a sea of liquid jade
His ship comes shining

Like a crystal swan in a sky of suns
His ship comes shining

I was reading T.S. Eliot on the bus yesterday. Read Prufrock and Preludes out loud, and read through a bit of The Waste Lands out loud, but finished it in my head because I couldn't keep a straight face. I just felt so ridiculous. You cannot say the word "jug" six times in a row in a Dramatic Poetry-Reading Voice without feeling like an idiot. But Prufrock and Preludes were very nice, as always. You can really hear the intricacies of the language he uses when you read it out loud, better than if you read it in your head.

I've been doing a lot of reading-of-poetry-aloud lately. Got my hands on The Norton Anthology of Poetry and I've just been diving into it with joy. Christina Rossetti's "Song" is a particular favourite, as is William Carlos Williams's "This Is Just To Say" and D.H. Lawrence's "The English Are So Nice!".However, I came upon e.e. cummings and the editor in me started screaming. "l(a" is painful, as is "r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r". Just... ohgod. Once you figure them out, it's fine, but until you do it just makes you want to cry.  Of course I love "anyone lived in a pretty how town", but that's just because the story is mostly linear and it makes you want to bathe in the words.

I could go on for hours about all the poems I adore, but -- ooh, "somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond" -- BUT I WON'T because that would not be interesting. I recommend, though, that you pick up The Norton Anthology of Poetry, because it is pretty and wonderful and pretty wonderful.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Aargh. I was going to write something here, but I just can't bring myself to do it.

Sorry.

RULES:
1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.
4. Have Fun!


IF SOMEONE SAYS 'ARE YOU OKAY' YOU SAY?
Sing Sing Sing -- Benny Goodman

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Sunset Strip Bitch -- Eve 6

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Poor Thing -- Sweeney Todd

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Peel Out -- Meat Loaf

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
From A Buick 6 -- Bob Dylan

WHAT'S YOUR MOTTO?
Looking At The Sun -- Matthew Sweet

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Gollum/Smeagol -- LotR OLC [GOD I hope so]

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
A Little Fall of Rain -- Les Miserables

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Girl -- The Beatles [ah, girl...]

WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Blue Cash -- Deerhoof

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
The Old Gumbie Cat -- Cats

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Just Like Tom Thumb -- Bob Dylan

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Tsunami -- Prozzak

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Chimp And The Woman -- Sean Cullen ["if we could just hold hands, maybe we could understand", and the people, the people, they beat him to death with a rock. Yep, that's about it.]

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Erase -- Mika [good god I hope not!]

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Ring Ring -- Mika [again, I hope not!]

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST??
When You're Evil -- Voltaire [BWAHAHAHAHAHA YES]

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR??
Papagenu (He's My Sassafrass) -- Tenacious D [Bigfoot, clearly.]

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Everything Louder Than Everything Else -- Meat Loaf [the three men I admire most are Curly, Larry, Moe]

WHAT DO YOU WANT RIGHT NOW?
Basin Street Blues -- Ella Fitzgerald

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
45 Seconds of Ecstasy -- Meat Loaf
[except it's not Meat Loaf, and it's awful, and I want it to die. So, no, not at all.]

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
They All Laughed -- Ella Fitzgerald

Are you noticing a trend here? Heh.

So, I recently learned an interesting new defense for "text talk" -- you know, using "ur" for "your" or "2" for "to/too". This defense basically outlined how Byron and Jane Austen and other great poets and writers used a variant of text talk in their letters to each other, and if THEY could do it, surely any random teenager hundreds of years later can. (Never mind the fact that these writers were MAGNIFICENT and could do pretty much whatever the hell they wanted. Let's see you write poetry like Byron, then we'll talk.)

I present to you now, my response to this defense. It may well be true that Byron and other great writers used text talk in their letters -- using "yr" for "your", etc -- but it is ALSO true that in those days it was terrifically expensive to send a letter, and the price went up with each page that the letter used. A lot of these writers weren't very rich, so they had to shorten their letters to save money. Thus, they shortened words. Reasonable, given the circumstance. And they had proven that they *did* value the English language very much, by using it so splendidly in their writing.

So, that's all well and good, but to use this as a defense for modern chatspeak is beyond ludicrous. A text message, IM, email or forum post in the modern age is NOT like that at all. For one thing, almost all of those are completely free, so you can afford to use full words in them. The only thing that costs anything is a text message, in which you STILL can use full words, just make the message shorter. It's not that hard to re-word your message to be shorter. You could say "I am going to come to your house at seven PM, as we agreed" or "Be there at seven" and still get the same idea across. If re-wording isn't your thing, you can just suck it up and CALL the person, or admit to yourself that there are some things you can't text. OR, you could get a cellphone plan with unlimited text, if you really find it that necessary.

A text message is not a letter. It is important that people understand that. A text message is for "I'm on my way" or "I'm waiting outside now" or "Plans changed, be here at eight instead". Occasionally, it is for a joke or quick story -- "What is a pirate's favourite comic? ARRRchie!" or "Dude, this guy is ACTUALLY WEARING polka dot shorts."

I just want people to understand that just because Byron and Austen etc. did it for the sake of frugality, it's not a viable excuse for people to do it now for the sake of laziness.

... why does that lemon have an eyepatch?