Uh... Mini Muffins?

I had a post that was rather political. And then I decided that if anyone read it I'd get angry messages, and, being the non-confrontational mouse that I am, I decided I did not like this idea. I might try again later once I've done a bit more research. If I do post something political, I want to make sure I have my facts right and have fully heard all sides of the story.

Instead, I'm going to do homework...

Oh, I was going to post something of substance...

Uh...

Here have this nice video I found!

Oops

I promised a post, didn't I...

Sure, I only really promised this to myself and maybe Mattie (if she's reading) but I really had meant to get that post up. Too much homework, though! Busy, busy, busy. Have an offer down on a house with three friends. Renting, that is. Not to buy, not yet. But we have the offer into the landlady who's just the sweetest thing. Going off to do that Tuesday. And talk to professors at the school I'm transferring to.

At the moment, I'm procrastinating. I should be reading Benjamin Franklin's autobiography but I'm not sure if I've ever read anything so dull. Oh right,  I read Grapes of Wrath once. I'm also working on a short response to go with the reading. So, what I'm actually doing is skimming the reading and writing things as I come up with them and will stop upon finishing the response.

Right, so I shall get this short story, or part 1 of the short story, up as soon as possible.

DFTBA!

Oh My...

Today I went to a quiet corner of the library to do some homework. Now, I do this often, but today was a bit more pandemonium filled that usual.

A group of kids in their freshman year of high school showed up in my corner. I'm used to them appearing in the general area of my corner, but they don't typically socialize with me... And when I inform them I'm doing homework, this tends to happen even less. Not today. No, today was speak with the girl on the computer. And so they did.

Now, I've been out of high school for three years now. I've come to understand that I was naive all throughout my time there, never did I realize how naive I was. Two of them had scars all up their arms. I had never actually seen this before. I knew it happened, but, goodness. They were nice kids, those two. Quieter than the others. And less inclined to speak of their sex lives. Oh yes, dear reader, I got some interesting details on that.

Now, I feel it's needed to mention they're all 14 years of age. Except the one girl, she was 13. This girl actually asked me if it was normal to still be a virgin at her age.

To be honest, I was in such shock I couldn't speak. Now, I was never raised that abstinence is the only way, strongly encouraged, but if I wan't to have sex then I was free to do so with the proper "protection." I've also come to realize how far I've distanced myself from social media. I don't follow celebrities, I don't watch MTV. In most senses, I'm no less naive than a kindergartner. They sit there listening to their heavy metal. I sit here listening to Les Miserable. They go on about how their parents are never there, my mother is currently assisting me in getting set to transfer colleges. Their friends are horrible to them, my friends are incredible people whom I'd trust in just about any situation.

Am I luckier than they are? Is that what it comes down to? I can't imagine that's it. But how did I end up like this, and they like that? I'm worried for generations to come, but I think every generation comes to this feeling at some point in their life. Concerned about the ones to come after. Grant it, I'm concerned about my own generation.

I truly don't understand, and I'm not sure I ever can.

Actually something of use?

That's right! Something of use! I'll post later this week, or tonight, with that something. I hope people will like it.

Anyway, it's just a short story. I have quite a few actually. I'll probably post lots of them from now on. Or try to. Probably won't. I am lazy and very unmotivated after all.

And, for the people who actually pay attention and care, I change my blog's title. Hufflepuffs!

Right. Well, that's it for now I guess.

Bye!

Never Inspired

Sometimes I feel inspired to do things like this:

Isn't it just amazing!? You know you wish you were as cool as these three. I do.

But I'm not musically inclined.

Or artistically...

And all my friends live 2 hours or more away.

So I just watch others have awesome fun...

While I sit around playing Harvest Moon.

One day I'll write things of importance and own my own apartment and car and such.

I'll probably still not leave my bedroom other than to feed the cats I'll inevitably own.

I lead an adventurous life.

The Recovery Process

Dementors have taken to living in my shoes. I know they're there. Their constant happiness sucking is staring to get annoying. I look at my book shelf and cry. Reading about the deaths of my favorite characters was bad enough. Why in the world would I decide to actually watch that last movie?

I don't think I've ever cried as hard as I did in that theater. There were some brilliant scenes for comic relief, but it just wasn't enough for me. Even while Neville was being his bad ass self, I still sobbed through my laughter.

Life hasn't been as fun without the anticipation of Harry Potter. Sure, there's Pottermore, and I'm excited. But it's not quite the same. 

What I want to do is go sit in a forest and just drink tea and continuously read Harry Potter uninterrupted, but that darn "life" thing and "need of money" thing get in the way. Bah. Who needs money? I'll become a hermit and live in a cave and collect my own food. What now, society? I'm going against your norm. Fear my different-ness!

Basically all I've been doing is reading the Game of Thrones series and periodically crocheting things. It's really not helping my mood much. I'd drink tea, but the heat's driving me sickness already. I can't imagine tea will help me feel better with the near 100*F weather. 

So instead I wallow in misery from the death of my childhood and the death bearing heat. Hopefully something exciting will happen... Like unicorns coming to visit bearing ice cubes and popsicles.

Nerding Out

It's 76 degrees Fahrenheit so I'm sitting in my bedroom wearing a sweatshirt. But not just any sweatshirt, no, this sweatshirt is from OutOfPrint.com and is the most beautiful sweatshirt ever. It's all purple and stress-worn with a flashdance style top. Oh, and did I mention that it has an old cover of Pride and Prejudice printed on the front of it? Hell yeah! It could be 100 degrees outside and I wouldn't take this thing off.

But it's not just my epic sweatshirt that has me giggling like a rabid fangirl. Well, not just that, anyway. Today J.K. Rowling announced Pottermore, the online interactive book. I've been fangirling about this since I woke up. Not to mention the amount of explaining I've been doing.

Just to clarify...

Pottermore is not a game like World of Warcraft, nor is it a real world treasure hunt. It is just an interactive reading experience. This does give it a touch of a gaming feel. Think of the Green Eggs and Ham computer game just nearly every kid had. It reads the story to you and then there are things to click. I'm sure Pottermore will be more advanced than that, but I'm excited. Not to mention J.K. is finally giving us the books in e-reader form. Now, I love my books and nothing will ever replace them, but when you like to travel it's just not convenient to carry around 7 books whether they're Harry Potter or not. I like my e-reader and do not for see it destroying it's paper counterpart any time soon.

And, as if an interactive book wasn't exciting enough, J.K. is also giving us information she's been hoarding for herself for years. Like the back story for McGonagall. Apparently she had a crush on a muggle once and had her heart broken by him. We will also learn more information about the houses and the things used in making wands. GAH! SO EXCITED!

But yeah. I've been having a Harry Potter fan day which included listening to the first 6 chapters of the Deathly Hallows audio book and playing Harry Potter lego. And then I began working on my costume for the movie premier and ordered one BAMF of  a shirt for it. Now to just finish making the skirt and order my Hufflepuff socks and maybe a tie as well.

Speaking of Hufflepuffs. I really want to make my layout for my blog Hufflepuff themed, but I have no skills in that area. One day I'll succeed. One day. I also need some art skills to draw myself a cute little Hufflepuff girl casting a spell. But I shall accomplish this layout. It'll just take some time. Even if I need to bribe Lady Hanaka with pie and a Gryffindor scarf to get my drawing.

In other news. I've nearly finished knitting myself a sweater. I hope to post pictures of my talent soon. I also have an odd desire to get my nose pierced. That I would not post pictures of, but I'd tell people about it.

>.> My mother bought double stuffed oreos. I must go eat them.

Have yourself a magical Harry Potter filled day. =)

Alone

My parents will leaving me alone for ten whole days. They'll even be taking the sibling child that lives in the basement with them. Most kids my age would cheer and plan a party. What am I doing? Panicking slightly. What the hell am I supposed to do if my mom isn't here for me to talk to? All my friends are too far away, most being states away. And then there's just me. Left alone in the house where I'll probably be eaten by the ghost that lives in the dinning room. He likes to play strange music box like music that has no melody to it. A very strange ghost, but I'm sure he'll eat me. If not, then I'm sure that a serial killer will find me and kill me. Or, someone will rob me and take all my Harry Potter movies which will then proceed to kill all happiness and therefore I won't be able to go on. So many horrible things could happen!

I don't even have a cute little animal to keep me company... Well, there's Fishums. Fishums doesn't really do much and certainly can't protect my Harry Potter DVDs. Fish are the most useful of pets. I shall be completely alone in the house. My parents will come home to find all my stuffed animals set up around the house. And I'll be having in depth conversations with them on the meaning of life. They will regret leaving me alone for so long. Or I'll be so bored, that I'll just be sitting upside down on the couch watching the travel channel. That's what I did for most of my summer after graduation. Except for the day that West Side Story played on TV. Then I sat upside down on the couch watching that.

But I do have some plans. My grandmother wants me to come visit her and she'll cook me dinner one night. She doesn't live that far away, though I'm still certain to get lost going there. My dad takes a different route every damn time we visit her. And then there's that mythical book I keep saying I'm working on. Maybe I'll actually work on it. I do have quite a few lovely stories, I just wish I could draw my characters just to have reference points and I can label colors of hair and eyes. And I have to make rose creams because I love them and can't find a place to buy them. I have to make fondant, though. Fondant is annoying. After that, I'm at a loss. Just Harry Potter then, I guess.

But, yes... All alone... And it kind of makes me super depressed.

I guess I'll be eating lots of ice cream sandwiches for those are the foods of happiness.

Frolicking in the Rain

Saturday evening my friend's step-sister held her graduation party. It was very small, just close friends and family mainly, but it was very lovely. I got to see some people I hadn't seen in forever which included my neighbor. You'd think being my neighbor I'd see him more often, but no. He hides in his man cave playing video games or is off with his girlfriend. But this small gathering became smaller and smaller until there was just a few of us left.

As is tradition when we have parties as this particular house, a bonfire of giant proportions was needed. We all reminisced about how we missed our usual group of pyros who got the thing started by walking into the fire and throwing entire trees in it. As much as I wish I had exaggerated that sentence, I have not. So without them, we just had a bit of lighter fluid and a small wimpy little fire that wouldn't quite start up. We tried for a bit as the clouds began to quite rudely spit at us. We shouted that it wasn't raining that it was just moist, though we quickly changed it to damp as two of the girls squirmed and shouted that "moist" was a very gross word. So we continued to try to get the fire more like a fire.

The problem began when we realized we had some electronics sitting outside. Those types of things to like rain, so we ran to save them. And just as us teens/slightly-older-than-teens got inside, the down pour began on the parents and the boys who had just finished their first year of high school. They all come in drenched. Completely and utterly drenched. We all laughed. "Oh, look at us! We're all dry." And then the graduate had an idea. She wanted to go out and play in the rain. So we all joined. Kind of grumbly, but kind of wanting to.

Rain is very wet. It makes grass slipper and people very cold, but we ran around for a good half hour laughing hysterically as we did so. We skipped and did cartwheels and spun around in circles shouting loudly. It was all grand fun. And then I thought of something...

The last time I had fun in a rain storm was my sophomore year of high school. I'm now going on to my junior year of college. Not only that, but I used to do such things all the time as a kid. I'd run around outside with my friends next door and we'd play in the rain pretending we had magical superpowers or we were mermaids. I want do run around outside more often. Why bother with computers when there's an entire world outside to have fun in? But no one ever wants to go outside to run around for no reason. There's no way in hell I'd find a group large enough to play Quidditch with me no matter how much I begged and bribed people. And imaginary games are obviously out of the question seeing as my friend and I are all around twenty years of age at this point. Why is growing up so boring?

Mattie, next time I see you, you'll go slay the dragons outside with me, won't you? I'm sure Lady Hanaka and Storm will also join us. I'll buy you all ice cream if you do. We'll play Quidditch as well and have a perfectly love time while people around us stare in wonder.

Life is being boring again... I hope people will prove magic is real soon. I feel as though life could never be dull if we had magic.

The End of an Era

My childhood ends at 12:01 am July 15.

Thirteen years of my life all belong to the glorious existence of Harry Potter.

Why do I want to Major in English? Harry Potter. What was the first full novel I read as a kid? Harry Potter. Why did I meet all four of my current best friends? Harry Potter.

Thirteen years! I was six when the first book came out in America. Just a cute little six year old second grader who was quite content to not read any books. And then, one fateful sunny afternoon, my mother handed me a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and said "Here, I think you'll like this." Ha. Me, read a book. That's a good one. I, being six, went outside and played with my friends. My mother decided she'd start reading it to me in bed that night. She read chapter one, and then left. And the next night she read me chapter two. And then chapter three following that. But it was that third night that things changed. My mother was reading it too slow. How dare she get me hooked on a book and then read only one chapter a night. So I took matters into my own hands and read half the book that night. Yes. Vengeance was mine! Now she'd have to wait until I was done to find out what happened next.

I finished the book a few days later, but now I was hooked. Harry Potter was the best thing ever and none of my little play-friends understood. They had kick ball and bikes, what good would a book do them? But my mother understood. She bought me the second and then the third. I read them as fast as my little mind could process them. Oh, those glorious books. Those wonderful things filled with joy and happiness.

The fourth book was the first time I had to actually wait for forever to get it. The fourth wasn't out yet. I was not a happy child. I wanted that book. Why couldn't that book be mine? And, to make everything thousands of times worse, I only learned about midnight parties after it came out. I was devastated that I didn't get to go. But I'd go to the next. Yes. Yes I would.

And then the movie came out just a bit before I turned 11. My little 11 year old mind couldn't handle it. I'd get to watch them? How could life get any better? Of course, then my 11 birthday came around and I was devastated by the lack of an owl bearing my letter. I wanted to go to Hogwarts, damn it. But I got over it. Sort of.

The fifth book was the most painful to wait for. I was up in the back woods of Maine when it came out. No midnight parties out there. And, as if the world hated me, my mother told me I wasn't allowed to read it until I got back from a fishing trip with my dad, brother, grandfather, and this guy Bob. I did not like this plan. I complained, but my mother promised I'd get the book as soon as I got back. This agreement was not good enough. I needed that book the second the bookstore opened. And I needed to read it NOW! But I went on that fishing trip and caught two fish. I don't even know why people bothered bringing me fishing. I didn't like fishing. I didn't like touching worms or fish and therefore made everyone else do so for me. I was the only one to catch fish that day forcing my dad to put a worm on my hook and then take the fish off my hook. I just wanted that book so I formed a plan...

"Dad, I have to go to the bathroom..."

"Can you wait half an hour?"

No. "Sure... Fine. Half and hour." I grumbled a while and really didn't want to fish any more or even go through the motions of fishing.

"Dad, can we go now?"

"Fine."

Success was mine! Home we went... After stopping for lunch. I ate my sandwich in misery. But we got home shortly after that. My dad told my mom how I got all the fish and how I probably just wanted to go home to have the satisfaction of having been the only one to catch fish. I just nodded and smiled. That book needed to be mine so I was not going to argue. My mother gave me the beautiful blue book. It was just so pretty! I loved it. This was the first time that I read non-stop. Two days. A personal record at the time, but I would beat it with the next book.

The sixth book. Now I could go to the midnight parties. And that was my plan. I refused to take no for an answer. I was now about to become Freshman in high school where I would meet one of my bests friends because she had Sirius Black on her shirt.  But before all that happened, I needed to convince my mother she wanted to go to the midnight party. But, no, she liked going to bed at 9:30. What good was that going to do me? I tried so hard to get her to go with me since I'd have no ride without her. And that's how it ended up. Once again, I had to wait like a muggle to get the book. And, while I had been a bit weepy with the fifth book. This was the first time I sobbed. Hysterically. I could not believe J.K.R could have written such a dark book. It wasn't until later I realized... Only one book left. Whatever would I do with myself? My life. Ending...

But the sixth book brought me something else. Theories. I knew Snape was good before the seventh book came out. I had mentally prepared myself for Harry and Hagrid's deaths, seeing as Harry obviously had to be a horcrux, and this time, I'd go to that midnight party. Since it was the last book my mother decided it would be fine to go with me. I was dressed up and completely ready. I was also number 484 in line. A very long line, but worth it to get that book. At last, just a few minutes past midnight, the book was mine. The last book.  The final installment. All truth was about to be revealed. I devoured the book in 12 hours and 45 minutes. My final record. I cried so hard that it was another hour before I decided to leave my room and say hello to my grandparents who had gotten in from Maine earlier that day. I wore all black and mourned the loss of two of my absolute favorite characters. Remus Lupin and Fred Weasley.

And now the final movie is about to be released. More than half of my life has gone to this series and has inspired me to be a writer, even if I do believe my writing sucks, but so many childhoods like mine will end that night. We will actually watch as our favorite characters die. Laugh, through our tears, as Mrs. Weasley calls Bellatrix a bitch, and then cheer as Neville saves the day with his BAMF moment with the sword of Godric Gryffindor. And then it will end. Nothing left to look forward to.

What other book could possibly inspire such greatness like the Harry Potter Alliance that raised hundreds of thousands to send to Haiti all in the name of Harry Potter. Even Nerdfighters, fighting to decrease world suck, tend to be some of the biggest Harry Potter fans.

Sure, there are books that have become quite popular, but they just don't give the same excitement. Hunger Games was really good, but just wasn't the same. I even read Twilight, and while, I unfortunately must admit, the first was alright, the rest were complete shit and don't even get my started on the grammar and it's encouraging small tween girls to bite each other. Nothing could ever compare and in just a few short week, it'll be over. My childhood will end.

Thank you, J.K. Rowling, for making my childhood magical.
Yes, I teared up while writing that




Mischief Managed.

The Evils of 3

It's nearly three in the morning. I hate three in the morning. Nothing good comes from being awake at this point. Just misery and sleepiness. If I were writing a paper this would be about the time I realize how close day light actually is; luckily, I'm not writing a paper. In fact, I'm not doing much of anything other than devouring cough drops hoping the itchy throat goes away and wishing that allergy medicine time would hurry up and approach.

I have tried nearly ever single allergy medicine one can buy without a prescription and it does seem that nothing helps. My eyes itch, my nose drips, and my throat does this weird itchy scratchy thing. My face feels all puffy and all allergy medicines either put me to sleep instantly or don't work leaving me to be miserable at 3am.

But, I have things to amuse me.

Thing number one: London.
I leave in one day. Today is Monday and I leave tomorrow. I would be jumping up and down, but I'm sleepy... And it's 3am. It seems people sleep at 3am when they aren't dying because nature has filled the air with it's tiny little demon spores.

Thing number two: Mozart l'Opera Rock
The single most glorious French musical I've ever heard. I can't stop listening to Mikele and Florence singing. Not to mention those two are absolutely beyond gorgeous. Listening... Staring... It could keep me occupied quite a while if it weren't for the whole bit with my feeling exhausted. Allergies have disrupted my sleeping habits for a few days now. It needs to end.

Acting?

A relatively well known book is apparently being made into a movie just down the road by my house, and by down the road, I mean less than half a mile. The Perks of Being a Wallflower isn't something I've ever read since it isn't my normal genre, but it was writing one town over from me and is now being made into a movie at my high school. Typically, I could care less. But there is one actress I desperately want to meet just because she was my childhood hero.

Emma Watson is playing a character named Sam in the movie. Yes, Hermione Granger is going to be just down the road from me for about two months. YES! Just to be within her presence is exciting.

I signed up to be an extra on set. My mother thinks I'd make a good actress, what she doesn't realize is that my memorization skills are near non-existent. My memory pretty much sucks, and while I may have that ever wished for hour-glass figure, I don't think I have the looks for such things.

Any moment now I know my mother's telepathy powers will kick in and she'll come storming over here and yell at me for thinking such things. Mothers are so annoying like that.

But the point still stands that I may be an extra in a movie. It's been a small goal of my mother's to get me in a movie. Probably one of those "My daughter is so epic she should just be famous" kinds of things. I don't care one way or the other, truth be told. We'll, I'd prefer not to be famous, but this involves Emma Watson, and I'd do anything to get one step closer to Oliver and James Phelps. For you see, the only cure for the common cold is a ginger twin sandwich. And I don't care if they aren't really gingers, they still played the Weasley twins and hugging them could probably cure any disease out there.

Okay, so this all really boils down to one thing... I'm a Harry Potter spazz and will do anything to be close in proximity to the actors from the movies. Not in the creepy way. Just to be able to see them and say "Yeah, I saw them," and then exaggerate to my grandchildren and say "Yeah, we were best friends." (Oh look, exaggeration! Just like in that poem I mentioned yesterday!)

I'd be really excited to be in the movie, though. I'm not so un-American that I don't want to be "Hollywood famous" Just not very famous... Okay, so just the prospect of being in a movie sounds cool. I just hope I never have some large part or I'm not randomly "discovered." And, if it's, for some unknown reason, decided that I"m epic and should be in lots of movies... I'm not entirely sure what I'd do with myself. Would my desperate need for a large house with and an ungodly number of bookshelves win over my not wanting to be famous? Yeah... It probably would. My books don't currently fit in my house never mind my room, and it's very depressing.

This is all very concerning. That's why I want to write books. I can use a pen name and no one ever has to know who I am. But I'll keep you posted on any developments in my new movie career. I'm hoping that they don't extend past my introducing myself to Miss Watson and my getting to give her a handshake. But who knows... If a director were to tell me "Hey, were making a movie of this super awesome book you love. Wanna' be in it?" I'd probably go "Hell yeah!" and prance off to be a pretty movie star.

For now I will stick to being a lowly college student who procrastinates on papers due by writing blogs few people read. (Hello new follower!)

Have a lovely day.

If I had lots of money... I'd buy a 1st edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. And maybe a car, but that book is more important.

The Road Not Taken

Be warned, I am now about to destroy your beliefs about one of the most encouraging poems out there.

"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost is one of the few poems that I love, but not for the reasons everyone does. Oh, it's such and encouraging poem! Be different it says. Take the path less traveled.

Every time I hear people go one about this I laugh on the inside. I typically don't contradict them, as that would be rude, but I've always wanted to burst a few things out.

Now, how about we analyze that poem?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.	20

Where should we start? How about this line "Though as for that passing there/Had worn them really about the same" Don't you find it interesting that the paths are "worn about the same"? Not really different from each other at all.

The paths were the same and lines 4-10 describe the sameness of the paths. They were barley different at all so it can be hardly said that it was "less traveled."  It just so happened that one less person had taken that path. It's not so much of an encouragement to be different and to make your own way in life, but how people look back on life.

The last stanza is him looking back. Or looking forward at how he will look back. People had a tendency to exaggerate when telling stories, and that's basically what this poem points out. You want to be seem a better person, or be able to blame something for the way things turned out.  Depending on how you understand the "sigh" to sound in line 16, he could even be looking back on his life blaming the path he took for disasters in his life or other misfortunes.

Yes. Not the uplifting poem it has come to be. Basically, I just felt like pointing this out. Take it as you please, of course. I'm just not in a particularly good mood and must rain on the parades of every human out there.

If only my decaf coffee hadn't tasted of burnt popcorn this morning... I'd probably be a cheerier person.

What the hell is a hipster?

I was spoken to by a "hipster" today. If you haven't guessed by now I don't leave the house much... Or my own little world- and while I had a vague notion of what a hipster might be, I am now actually aware of what they are. Hipsters are what happen when you take a small emo child, age him a few years to college age, give him a mountain man beard, and then the ego to rival that of the biggest music snob you've ever known. Throw in a bit of beatnik from the late fifties/early sixties and there you have it. A hipster.

Now, I don't have an issue with most people, but this lack of an issue with most people comes down to one simple concept... When I'm reading a book people typically don't bother me. This human felt the need to bother me. Silly human seemed to have thought this was a good idea. He soon learned otherwise.

The first thing he asked was about what I was reading. An innocent enough question; one I'll give without getting angry. I told him I was reading the first book in The Wheel of Time series and that it was a bit too adventurous for my taste, but it was still a good book. Apparently this wasn't a good enough book to be reading. He then went on to explain what good literature actually consist of. This good literature of his including Sylvia Plath, and various writers I knew nothing of and could of cared less about. I stared blankly and zoned out for a good portion of it leaving him to ramble on.

This was Hipster's mistake. He insulted my book. Grant it, it's not my favorite of things, but I like it. I considered it to be a relatively decent book, nothing compared to Harry Potter, but good, none the less. If Hipster had just said, "Oh, that sounds like a nice book," and left me the hell alone, he would not of had to deal with me insulting Sylvia Plath and his silly mountain man beard.

Hipster, being horribly offended now, then suggested I had never read Sylvia Plath in my life.

HOW DARE HE!

I never insult literature before I've read at least a page of it. (The only book ever to earn an insult from me after the first page being Ulyssyss by James Joyce... What the hell kind of writing style is that? I need more concentration for that than I need for knitting lace!) Right... Complaining about the human who spoke to me arrogantly, wasn't I?

I don't like poetry as a general rule. But I've read Sylvia Plath, I can even quote a few lines from a few poems. I can quote a few different poets if I were to so desire, but my dislike of poetry keeps me from doing so too often. But this effort was worth it. Oh, was he shocked to hear me quote her. Ha. Silly human. Never insult a bookworm while she's reading. Even worse if you insult her reading selection. She will devour you alive with words and then laugh maniacally as you stare in shock.

This sounds more of a rant on Hipsters, but I guess this is the only one I've so far met. He angered me though. I liked my book well enough. He didn't need to go bashing everything else that brings me joy... Sometimes I wish beating people with my Jane Austin anthology was legal. Sadly, it is not and no one seems to have plans to rectify this horrible injustice. One day people will understand.

And now for something completely different...

I drew a picture today. I've convinced myself that drawing is an important skill to have for there is no other way for me to obtain pictures of Remus Lupin holding/snuggling cats.

You are now about to see my first pathetic attempt at a human face.

So very pathetic... She's even balding slightly and seems to have a black eye. Poor, dear. I've named her Eudora. She's balding at an early age due to the stress of having been drawn by me. Her nose looks a bit funny too...

Well, I'm off to sleep now. Yawn.

Side note... My poor drawing attempt has reminded me of one of my favorite books called The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Such an amazing, incredible, darling book. All of humanity should read it. It teaches very good seasons to both children and grown-ups.

Weddings & Crafting

I'm scared for the safety of humanity. Here I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I realize how many men with mullets surrounded me. Oh, backwoods of Pennsylvania, how you never cease to terrify me with how stuck in the 80's you are. And it's not even good 80's. If people were prancing about pretending they were Molly Ringwald, things would be good. Mullets were something should have been left to rot.

Mind, this was a very... Okay, so the wedding was a bit odd. I've never been to a wedding where people could wear jeans. I felt over dressed in a skirt! A simple knee length skirt! Grant it, this was only the second wedding I've been do, but it concerned me slightly. But these two things weren't what bothered me. It was the anti-feminism that got me squirming.

I'm not into the whole feminist thing. I could care less, really. Not that I don't get offended by comments about "kitchens" and "sandwiches" but I don't get easily offended by such things. This sermon actually got me squirming, though, and that takes some skill. The word "own" was used to describe a man's relationship with his "woman." No one but us college kids seemed to notice or mind. Maybe I don't get out of the house much, (okay, so I really don't, but I mean it in the metaphorical sense), but it was a bit ridiculous. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But this lead to some very important decisions about my own future wedding if I ever have one.

1. Everyone will be dressed up. I don't care if you come dressed as Yoda, but so help me if you come dressed in jeans.
2. During the exchanging of rings, parts of Lord of the Rings will be read aloud.
3. Obviously, me wedding won't be in a church. I'll be surprised if any Catholic priest (for I am Catholic) would ever say the sermon for my wedding.
4. My mother will not be reading me poetry she wrote herself. Now, if she wants to read the Lorax to me. I'm totally for it.
5. There will be epic dancing. I will learn to waltz, tango, what have you, for my dance with Husband.

Ah... I feel better now. That whole bit with the wedding was bothering me. But the bride looked amazing and I know she and her new husband will be very happy together. They truly are made for each other and I can't see their marriage ending badly. I wish them all the luck and happiness I possibly can.

The second part of this post comes in the form of my, once again, wanting to start crafting. I have a sewing machine now. I've named it Marmalade, and we shall be bestest of friends. I hope to open an etsy shop and I keep saying I will filled with the things I make. I hope they'll be good things so they don't end up on regretsy. I'd be sad then.

Well, I'm off to set up Marmalade in my bed room and start making things.

DFTBA

Boring Day With Some Dragons

I hate staying inside all day, but it was cold and rainy out, I had some homework, there was a pie that needed baking, and I still have to clean my room. These are the worst kinds of days. Wanting to go out with no where to go and no one to go with. I know I should have grabbed Pride and Prejudice and a cup of tea (herbal of course, damn allergy not letting me have earl gray), but stuff to do! And I still need to go out and buy the makings for dinner on Friday night and a wedding card for my friends. But all will soon be calm. Just thinking of that glorious trip  to London and I'm filled with joy.

I kind of want to get my hair done. I don't know how though. I want to dye it, but something normal. If it's not normal then I only get to keep it for two weeks while in London. My hair color must be appropriate for work. I work with the elderly, so I shall continue to obey this rule. But something cute and short and such. Maybe highlights or some such.

I wish I was in a better writing mood today. But once again I can only dabble out some thoughts from my brain. I may have to take up that Pride and Prejudice and tea idea from earlier. I'm really in the mood for some tea, chamomile I guess. Nice and calming before reading my American Lit assignment. At least tomorrow ends the week for me and the other 3/4 of the F4 is coming to visit me before the four of use head off to the wedding on Saturday. It shall be lovely and I hope it's warm and sunny for them though the internet says cold and rainy. Sad, but I'm sure it'll be lovely none the less.

It's kind of an odd thought, going to a wedding. I've only ever been to one and it's been a good while, but this is the first wedding of a friend. I feel like childhood is ending with this one event. I REFUSE! Where are my Harry Potter books. I will never grow up. Now excuse me while I go prance around a fairy circle in a sun dress. Maybe I'll fight the imaginary dragons while I'm at it. Growing up is for losers.

In Case You Wanted to Know

I never got my cupcake... I bought a caramel apple instead.

Yum. <3

I Just Really Want a Cupcake

Is it too much to ask for a cupcake? I don't even know why I want a cupcake. I don't particularly like them after all. Cake is just so cake-y. I probably just want the frosting.

Today is a very off day for writing and thinking. Probably the adverse effects to not having caffeine for days. Two weeks ago I started feeling really, really sick. My body shook uncontrollably and I felt like I'd pass out at any moment. After some lovely bunches of blood testing it was discovered I'm allergic to the object I use as my life force, caffeine. I miss my caffeine. Teas and coffees... Such glorious things. The amount of longing I have for a chai tea latte keeps me up at night... Or would if I could have some caffeine.

Eh... Brain dead... Yup, it's nap time now.

Off to Notting Hill

So... Remember how I was reading the Iliad? I'm now reading the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan. I think I'll be reading that for a while. At least I'm more than half way through the first one. Depending on how often I read this summer I may finish the series some time next year.

And I call myself a book worm.

But in news other than my feeling of failure, I get to go on my long awaited adventure to England next month. But I will not just be in England, I'll be staying on the well known street of Notting Hill with my aunt and uncle. I cannot begin to explain how much excitement is pouring from me. This trip will be my first out of country adventure and I'm determined to make it beyond exciting.

Because of this trip, I've been neglecting homework for clothing shopping. My goal for this year, other than to own a car of course, is to switch the clothing out of my closet for a style that is entirely my own. Right now there's a lot of tee-shirts in it and, while those are well and good, I want something slightly more elegant. I like jeans and all, but I love skirts. I need more...

This trip also makes me want to complete my other two short term life goals: getting a tattoo and bleaching my hair white.

Why I want to bleach my Crayola sepia colored hair, I'll never know, but I do. Maybe I'll do that the day before my trip and then dye it back to a normal color before I work the day after I get back... That can't be healthy for my hair.

For the tattoo, I want a Harry Potter themed tattoo. No, I'm sorry. I need a Harry Potter themed tattoo. Maybe one that says "Mischief  Managed" or possibly the Deathly Hallows symbol with "Felix Felicis" under it or around it. Yes. Something like that. My mother disproves.

I have another goal... To figure out how to write things in a witty manor. I can do such in small bursts, but I guess it comes with practice and that's what this blog is for. It's here to encourage me to write and it's been doing just that. I probably should have participated in "blog every day in April." But I didn't.

Too bad too. I would of had lots to go on about like England, Quidditch, my lovely garden I began to work on, my newly found allergy to caffeine, the angers of scheduling classes, and my experiences watching the movie Mrs. Miniver. April has been a very busy month! I guess I'll go on about it all tomorrow. Maybe even blog every day for the rest of the month! EGAD! That would be something. But writing is good for me. Even if it's just pointless ramblings to myself. Everyone must start somewhere even if that somewhere happens to be the middle of nowhere. Lets see how long my resolve to post lots will hold out. I'm sure I'll do fine on this one. Until tomorrow. :)

Summer Reading List

I've always considered myself a reader seeing as I read a lot and often have a book on me. But I haven't read anything of importance. Sure, I've read Austen, Bronte, and a good portion of Shakespeare's works, but that's a very small bit of all the classics out there. There are so many books out there I always mean to read, but never good. Charles Dickens, for example. I've never read any of his works and this kind of distresses me. So I've come up with a summer reading list. It's a short list, but I feel that I'll take me a good while to read it all. After reading and rereading just the first page of James Joyce's Ulysses I'm fairly certain that even beginning the summer reading now won't effect much.

1. Iliad - Homer
2. Odyssey – Homer
3. Ulysses – James Joyce
4. Lolita – Vladimir Nobokov
5. Atlas Shrugged – Ayn Rynd
6. The Fountainhead – Ayn Rand
7. Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell
8. Works of Emerson – Ralph Waldo Emerson
9. Works of Keats – John Keats
10. Lord of the Rings – J.R.R. Tolkin (finish)
11. Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
12. Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
13. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Robert Louis Stevenson
14. The Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger
15. The War of the Worlds – HG Wells
16. David Copperfield – Charles Dickins
17. Moby Dick – Herman Melville
18. Middle March – George Eliot
19. Great Expectations – Charles Dickins
20. The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
21. Gone with the Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22. Brave New World – Aldous Huxley

I don't plan to read these in this order, but I hope to read a good number of them. I'm beginning with Homer's two epics since I have a copy of both on my Nook and then I'll decide from there. I feel that finishing up the last book and a half of J.R.R. Tolkin's Lord of the Rings will be the easiest bit. I've never been one for deep thinking during the summer and profound books, I'm sure, shall cause great damage to my mind.

On a side note, I haven't written much more of my potential novel. I did, however, write two papers for class and study for three tests. Midterms are next week. I do hope that means a week of procrastination with Sims 3.

One day I ought to learn to go through and look over what I wrote to check for errors, but I can never seem to bring myself to care quite that much. Possibly because I currently write this for myself and only pretend I have an audience filled with interest. Maybe one day I will, but for now, it's just a vent with a bit of writing practice. (If I cared enough to check over what I wrote.)

DFTBA

Music and Insanity

One of my friends imposed an interesting question about music. Just gathering our thoughts on and and such, but part of it really made me think. Why is it that these singers like Justin Beiber get so much attention from these girls. I find it odd how intensely they defend these people and I'm fairly sure it's borderline obsession if not full on obsession. I don't have much knowledge in psychology, but this certainly makes me wish I did. Was my generation just as obsessed with the Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, and Britney Spears? I don't remember it being that way, but since I was apart of that culture maybe I just didn't notice.

If it wasn't like that with my generation, then why is it like that now? People did the same thing back when the Beatles were around. Is there a similarity between then and now that make people go insane over these artist? I don't think I'd put people like Justin Beiber (or Edward Cullen, for that matter) up there with people like the Beatles or Elvis, but that seems to be how things are going. The phase will probably die out, but what made it appear in the first place?

My second topic is on that of my own insanity.
I finally came up with something to write and, very different from my norm, it's a very morbid depressing something. It's the kind of macabre story one writes while listening to sweet music. The main girl's going on a murdering spree and in my mind "Somewhere Out There" plays in the background. It's frightening, but it oddly fits the scene for numerous reason.

I currently have a thousands words written, though I need to go back and rewrite it. I've decided it needs to be in first person for it to work since I've realized... Well, I've realized very awesome things and I'm excited to write. Unfortunately, I have a good bit of school work to be doing this week, so the story will have to be put on hold for a while. I have an American lit paper to write, a speech to give on libraries, and a music chapter to read. Busy, busy, busy... And just as I had an idea too! How very mean.

On another note, I've joined the HP alliance chapter in my area. I'm incredibly excited to be apart of something that's helped the world so much already. I hope that we'll decrease world suck levels in our city, even just a little. Every bit counts, after all. One day our would will be filled with happiness and rainbows. Just watch, it'll happen.

Zombie tip of the day: Swords are the way to go. Ammo is a limited resource and it will run out.

Little Blue Books of Stress

Tests in college are always stressful. It sort of an unwritten rule that if you aren't having a panic attack over the test then you must be dead. I've learned that mosts test are done with scantrons. As if the SAT's weren't bad enough, they now must force them upon us every time we finish a unit or it's time for midterms. But the blue book tests are worse by far.

I'd only heard of them until yesterday. The strange blue paper encased note paper in which you take your test. There aren't any questions, for those are on a different sheet, and the entire test is short answer. While I prefer short answer for those have multiple right answers and even if you BS your way through it, your bound to have remembered a few things for a few points. Scantrons either give you a right or wrong answer. BS is more likely to fail you than help with a Scantron.

Here I am, in American lit knowing that it's an open book, open source, use-anything-your-little-heart-desires-just-not-each-other test, and the booklet of lined paper is put in front me. Never in all my life have I used the entire class (one hour and twenty minutes) and then some to complete a test. I used up an entire little booklet for this test and came out still feeling a rush to do everything in a quicker motion than it needed to be done. Those booklets are the cause of college students dying young from heart failure. This is my theory.

And now I don't know what my grade is... I hope I'll know Tuesday... I bet I failed... I probably did. I don't want to know my grade...

On a plus note I wrote two pages for a story. Not sure what story, or if there's a plot. But I wrote... In red ink... In a notebook. I'll need to type it up I suppose.

DFTBA

Attention Span: Non-Existant

I keep saying I'm going to do stuff. Some of that stuff being keep a blog and get out of the house more. None of which has been properly done. I also keep telling myself I'll write something. A full something filled with awesome, adventure, and just a dash of romance. Yeah, failed at that, too. I did manage to write 50,000 words of nonsense for NaNoWriMo. I do feel accomplished about that, but not as much as I could have been had I written a story. A complete, plot following story. I did not such things.

Instead of doing things I tell myself I'm going to do, I read Harry Potter and drink some chai tea lattes. An ungodly amount of chai tea lattes, at that. It mus be unhealthy the amount of time I spend at Starbucks. What I need to do is find some sort of motivation as I apparently have none. Right now the only motivation I have is to finish my music essay and find a snack.

I ought to dedicate myself to something this year. Like finish an actual story. Well, come up with a plot. And maybe find something in school to get involved in. Its always been hard to get involved since I share a car with my mom and campus is about 45 minutes away, but I'll find away to make it work. I hope. I'll go out for theater or something. And as for writing. I'll start small. I'll think of a plot. I'm horrible with plots, so I'll come up with one of those first and then go from there.

Yes, this sounds like a good plan. Lets see if I stick too it.

I should go buy myself a cat...