A Review.

" You know, I was so disappointed to see that this manga only had a few fanfics. This is the first that I read and I'm not disappointed. Thanks! "

-- was a review posted to one of April's fanfiction stories. 

After a long day, when these sort of words await to be read by you, and further, when they are directed unto you, it truly would make you feel extremely happy, inspired and more ambitious.

April is happy, and thankful to this reader/reviewer for giving her a fresh bout of encouraging happiness. :)

When the key was forgotten.

April Twelving is a forgetful prat, and today was no different.

Thanks to her mother's call when she was nearing home, she realized that she forgot the apartment key inside the apartment.April's parents who had the other key were scheduled to arrive home much later from their workplace, and they'd suggested her to spend an hour or so till their arrival at a trusted neighbor's place. Though April did deliberate that, she chose against it as she wanted to be at peace for a while, and not go through the hustle and bustle of the neighbor's household what with their kids around.

April had always been fascinated and intrigued by the idea of actually writing, composing beautiful fiction at a cafe just like many authors and writers are deemed to do. Being a self-made author, it was one thing that she had always longed to do. To sit at a cafe for a good deal of time, to sip one cup of coffee and type away as if that one order would suffice for the whole of her stay, while writing good stuff along the way, of course.

Today, she wanted to try it out and ultimately achieved one of her little dreams. She alighted at the Up Cycle Cafe near home--it was the one cafe that she'd been to before and liked, and the plus charm was the cafe is about 15 minutes away from her apartment.

April had been meaning to sit at the swing (which is a substitute for a chair) for a while now, and settled for the same. She started out with her laptop right away after putting away her things. Once the computer got to life, she actively started hacking at the keyboard to type out whatever flowed into her head for her upcoming chapter for Dreams in Letters. Sure she took care to form the story properly!

April was hungry and desperate for food when she initially chose to visit the cafe and not go to the neighbor's place. Meaning she was quite puzzled and annoyed when the waiter didn't approach her with the menu after fifteen minutes. Food over pride or whatever, she marched over to the counter and flashed a bright grin at the waiter who smiled sheepishly realizing that she had not been handed the menu yet. April quickly chose what could be the most filling dish on the menu, The Fresh Basil Pasta in Tomato Sauce - Penne / Spaghetti as seemed to the first thing she saw on the 'will-fill-my-tummy-for-good' section, and also because it was one of out the others in the Pasta section where she could understand what was printed. The 'French Food' lingo and April together, nuh-uh.

The waited was specifically told to bring the pasta first and THEN the "Filter Coffee (South Indian Filter Coffee)" as the menu said, later when April would tell him to. But nope, he just had to bring it in the middle of the pasta and somehow kill the mood >.<

The pasta was great and didn't make her teeth scream (well, pain,..) in pain (she had two teeth filled yesterday). April was too hungry to care about the hotness of the dish and the pain the hotness would bring to her teeth and simply dug into the tomato sauce with her over-sized spoon. That was blissful, April was reminded of the sort of tomato 'gojju' her mother makes at home. A little while later, after blowing each Penne (yes, April got the Penne and not the Spaghetti even without being asked -.-), she gobbled each little-long lump of happiness (IT IS FOOD. AND FOOD IS HAPPINESS.). The Penne was not boiled well at the corners for the most part though...

But the overall review of the pasta would be gut. Here's a picture, though April was too hungry to take a good picture:

Yikes, apologies! This is a rather blurry picture that portrays the beautiful pasta as something grotesque, that simply is heaped on the plate >.<

The coffee, of course was sipped during the latter part of the pasta and also after. Just like what the menu said, the coffee what April's mother whips up ("South Indian Filter Coffee," remember?) would taste the same as what she had. 30INR is a real rip-off for that. The pasta on the other hand might be worth for the 150INR spent on it. Then again, the last few mouthfuls of the Penne went ignored as they left an ugly, distasteful trail...is that usually the case with pasta? Does one have that tinge at the near end when they're stuffed with so much pasta already? Anyhoo, moving on.

Here's the coffee, too:

There! Now that's a much better, acceptable picture, yeah?


It was about 19:15 when her mother called, and she had to leave the cafe after paying up at the front register voluntarily. Nah, no 'I'm ready for the check, please' happened. She got a bus, walked over home, stopped by to pick up some 'prasadam' for her mother and was home by 19:35.

April simply HAD to write this down as an entry. In between all this, there were six new paragraphs typed out for her upcoming chapter, with editing everything else. Not bad eh, not bad at all. :D

A loaf's level of difficulty?

you get used to difficulties when that's what's winning you your bread

---

Yup, April just...wrote that. In a chat window.

Appointments, dates, time-time.

Keeping up your word with appointments is sometimes so tough. Growing up into an adult means you meet more people along the way, which simply means that you've got to keep yourself open to meeting more obligations and respect time much more than ever.

We try to do our best, which is good. Sometimes when things look bleak and you aren't able to keep up a commitment, an appointment or such, all its going to take is for you to open up to that person, and talk it out. Talking solves things. Once you're open minded, that is.

End of rant. 

Confession: April Twelving is hare-brained.

The next exam is two days away and before even having started with her studies for the same, April suddenly struck upon a thought as to where her hall ticket was. She recalled having kept it in the same bag that she took to the first exam. Having NOT noticed it in the bag with a brief glance, she went into full panic mode. 

Which means, forwarding the same text that goes something along the lines of 'I lost my hall ticket. Is it okay if I take the spare hall ticket that I printed out from the next exam onwards?' to about three people on her phone contacts--two being classmates and a senior. 

The senior gave an assuring reply that it was okay. A classmate on the other hand said he wasn't sure and asked her to re-check that, and also tell him what the teacher replies with. Oh yeah! Despite the senior assuring her it was okay, April just HAD to continue her panic-march and shoot out emails to her class teacher and the support center of her university.

Only to find that her hall ticket lay very safe at the bottom of her bag, right alongside the previous exam's question paper--something April always does; she keeps the hall ticket together with the previous exam's question paper. 

-.- Soo not cool.

She quickly forwarded (she goes panicky and texts many people. Its only fair to forward the same text. The panicky unsmart are sometimes 'smart' like that. Yup, I'm wayy too awesome. I know) the text like this:  'I'm hare-brained. I'm sorry. I found it, it was safe. ><'

Yay. Not!

 

Skip a beat, for the Skip Beat lover.

Her heart quickens and skips a few beats altogether when she sees a new e-mail pop up, when his name is marked in thick, bold black letters, indicating that the new, unread message is from him.

The messages he has been sending of late have been hateful, dripped in antagonistic splashes of angry words, reflecting sorrow though he pretends it is not.

It hurts her too much.

But oh no, it is alright!

For any message from him, whether hateful or not, excites a new spark in her, makes her do a little mental jig of happiness for you see, each message from him means that he is well in health, that his heart beats just fine, that he is living.

Her love lives, and that alone is enough for her.

---

There will be no more of such heart beats quickening at his texts, for he will not text her anymore.

She, too, promised that she would not pen down anything to reach across to him.

She will have to learn to be contented with her heart beating fast when she merely recollects thoughts of him, of them.

She will have to learn it the hard way, and face life face on.

I, April Twelving, wish her good luck for she will need both luck, and her own severe perseverance from now on.

Japanese customs rubbing in is beautiful.

Ever since April started to learn Japanese, it was obvious that she was exposed to the culture, the customs and traditions of the Japanese (haha, funny how 'customs and traditions' are always wrapped together ever so unconsciously =^0^=) as its mandatory to fully or at least partially understand the taste and flavor of the country of origin of the language one is learning. Okay, that was too many ofs.

The Japanese in particular have almost everything 'synced' to their language--the seasons, feelings, the social strata ranking, everyday actions, and just about everything. Of course, its the same as any other language in the world, but with Japanese, its just a lot more than what meets the eye. Trust April there.

Its almost poetic, even. Okay, April is not sure but the line before this? She is very sure that she recalled that off of a novel. Mostly the Twilight series, she thinks. She's unsure, but she's sure enough that she recalled it off of a novel she has read before.

Many things that we do in everyday life might actually be frowned upon in the Japanese culture; paying someone cash/money just as it is--straight neat bills in the open air, walking with shoes on inside the house, not greeting each other at the appropriate times and places, eating styles, and even body hair. Yeah, that's right. April has heard that its eerily common for Japanese women to shave the hair on their hands. She says eerie because that's almost the exact word she had heard on a YouTube video. Okay, now April is deviating from what she wanted to say.

Anyhoo, April Twelving has gotten used to many of the things that are done the Japanese way. After having been exposed to it for quite a while now, she's always wanted to implement some, if not all, of those customs. Little did she know that her first try at one custom would actually make her feel dignified, distinguished, poised and all those 'graceful' words one would aim to hit upon a 'lady'. Right, that wasn't the intention. But what April meant to say was that it made her feel really good.

---

April has been frequenting a particular beauty salon since recently and the proprietor just happens to be her neighbor. The last week (probably, April has poor memory), April ran short of a small albeit good sum of money while paying at the salon. She'd requested the proprietor to let her pay it later, and completely forgot to pay her back as soon as she had promised.

Not that she meant to; she had told her father so many times as he gets to see and talk to that person almost every other day. But when it became clear enough that she could not rely on him anymore, given that he didn't step up to her request (not exactly one..), she decided to act.

While heading home after paying the internet bill, she bought a couple of brown normal sized (no, April doesn't exactly know what a normal sized envelope would be sized like. That was weird.) envelopes. She broke into a brisk walk to come home, got a pen the first thing while at the door, and even without shoes taken off, she ran to the nearest wall to pen the proprietor's name and hers in the front and back, added a 'Thank You,' and a 'Sorry I'm paying so late,' message in the front. Ran up, rang the doorbell, handed it to the proprietor's parents who were home after saying that she owed some money as payment.

After doing that, April marched with a proud heart, and a better, dignified sense of what is right. That honestly felt good that just handing over or shoving a bunch of crumpled bills under someone's nose.

日本のことかんぱいって感じが出ました。Yes, that had to be typed in Japanese.

---

On a side note, April just realized this evening that for the past few months, she has been the one paying the house's internet bill. She's been paying it out of her pocket, with the money earned from Listly. April feels proud of herself, and wants to accomplish more good things and viewpoints in life.

Off to studying Oracle now, for tomorrow's practical exam!