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.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
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?
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.
"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.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
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
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
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
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. :)
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. :)
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