- I became a Nerdfighter.
- I wrote a novel.
- I co-planned a conference.
- I rode the subway.
- I turned 15.
- I discovered my love of Indian food.
- [I'm waning. Surely there's more!!]
- I became an activist (and waved signs at the side of the road).
- I bought a goat (for a family in Africa).
- I saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince five times in theaters.
- I stalked Jensen Ackles.
- I saw Hank Green IRL!!!!
- I did BEDA and started Raving Persuasions with Rena and Vita.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Since Alex was talking about an IRL meeting, and because I can't think of anything original/more relevant. Except that I have NOT studied for finals and/or started a World Studies project due January 5th, 2010. It sounds so far away, doesn't it? It IS. Faaaaar, far away. I have said it, and therefore it shall be true. :P Have you noticed that when I have no relevant topic I tend to rant/ramble/generally carry on in this manner so that many, many words are used which then TRICKS you into thinking that within these many, many words there is a POINT, when there never is?)
I Googled the approximate midpoint between our (again, approximate) locations. They DO indeed form a diagonal, and the midpoint (EXACT, as it has been determined via Google, o' course) is in Meeker county, Minnesota. Which is odd, because it seems significantly closer to me than to Vita or especially to Alex. I would have estimated somewhere in Wyoming (or, SOUTH DAKOTA!!! That's close to WY, sort of... WINNER! That would be jokes.), to compensate for Alex being so extremely northern and westernish. See for yourselves:
No can copy Google maps. No matter. I think we've established a fair amount of trust within this, have we? Could I *really* have made up a county name like Meeker? Shall I stop with the rhetorical questions? Are you still searching hopelessly for the point in all this? By my usage of words such as "shall" and phrases such as "such as", can you tell I've been watching excessive amounts of Britishly accented movies? And that, presumably because of this, that I am typing this WITH a British accent? I shall stop now.
(Oh, RELEVANCE! AKA, something mildly news-related that I find funny... Watch?)
Same subject matter, original tune. :D
Monday, December 28, 2009
(I know! I live such a crazy life!)
The only pop culture commentator types I keep up with are the people who mock them, like Joel McHale & The Soup, and Michael Buckley from What the Buck. What I like about them is that although they dig through the trashbag of life, they do it with humor and perspective. As in, they realize that what they're doing isn't the most important news* ever and isn't likely to affect anyone's life too much and that they therefore have a little wiggle room, so to speak. They don't publicly idolize celebrities yet they don't tear them all down either. I guess it's because they're primarily comedians and they don't need to be cruel to call someone out for acting stupidly. Sure, Buck calls half the female population of Hollywood "skanks," but in context with his show, it's not a term that would make someone die of shame.
On the other hand, you have the actual celebrity reporters like Perez Hilton, who are completely bitches to everyone. Reading through Perez's various attacks on Miles o' Smiles makes me feel vaguely ashamed of myself. (Also, 50% of his website is repeated stories with a different name plugged in - what's the point?) Then again, without his frequent cruel remarks, Perez probably wouldn't be so infamous and therefore popular. If he was nice to everyone, people reading his website would get bored and leave. It says something about people as a whole, doesn't it?
What does my room say about me?
That I think putting things in neat piles makes my room clean, that I don't like throwing things away, that I read everything from Shakespeare to children's picture books, that I have no idea what to do with myself.
Haha, I don't know.
* For example, reports about wars. You know. Trivial stuff like that.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Question, a Alex: Is Boxing Day a Canada-only type thing, or is it (like the majority of things) "Only non-American countries because we are the awesome nonconformists of the WORLD!!!" Is Boxing Day even as big a deal in Canadaland as we perceive it to be? From my (very limited, offhand) knowledge of it, one present unopened until today? Canadian ninjas recycle all the used boxes? Santa comes back, but JUST to Canada to give even MORE presents? Correct me/ignore my multiple, possibly ignorant questions. If presents are indeed given for Dia de los Boxando, I present to you a picture of Jensen Ackles (Perhaps .this one. Mmmmm.) along with the colored Sharpie of your choice, so that you may never be unprepared for future spontaneous casual sightings/stalking chronicles. May the adventures and plot bunnies continue.
About my life n all that jazz:
Christmas was quite good. I think I've mentioned before that most people who show up are something like my great-uncle's ex-wife, and her current husband. So I don't blame them for not giving extremely "personal" gifts. I believe they know me as "Little Debbie's* girl, the one who likes chocolate." I'm perfectly okay with that, it means I wind up with a lot of chocolate and gift cards.
However, I failed at Scarble. Not epically, but these are the people who TAUGHT me to play Scarble with the level of badassery I project. Like Yoda. Master badass. Oh, and because I said I would provide sample conversation, Death by Snuggie:
T: "You should have gotten [my grandma] a Snuggie. Old people like those sort of things. Hah."
R: "Do not diss the Snuggie. Your mockery of the Snuggie only hides that fact that you want one. It provides everything you need. Love, warmth, and happiness. You NEED the Snuggie!"
D: "I'd like one, if it was a gift. It's warm, and you can hold the remote or a book or a mug with your arms still being in a blanket. But I would NEVER go outside in one."
T: "NOOOO! Show your LOVE for the Snuggie! Convert people to Snuggie! EVERYONE needs a Snuggie!"
D: "People in those motorized wheelchairs shouldn't have Snuggies, though. What it one of the designed-for-the-morbidly-obese dangling sleeves could get caught in the wheels and their head could snap back and they'd DIIEEEE!!!"
R: "DEATH BY SNUGGIE!!! 'Lalala, I am warm and love my Snuggie. Oh no, it's stuck. AHHHH, wait! Reverse!' *strangling noises and hand gestures*"
T:"That's precisely their plan! Kill the nonbelievers!! The CULT OF SNUGGIE! Death to the elderly! *more ranting mockery of Snuggie-cultists. Trust me, this conversation was a LOT longer, but it got so manic I couldn't record it in my head*
*Everyone has an adjective or title. I have a dead great-uncle "Fat Tony". Yes, it's like *exactly* the mafia. A lot of things about my extended family are very stereotypically Italian. :D
Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Haven't seen you in a while... *waves*
Only excuse: Slept til 12:30 Saturday, generally did nothing but wait for blog topics to magically appear. Winter break FTW. 12 days of doing nothing, 2 days of spazzing over finals and making a children's book about the values of Zen Buddhism. Fun times.
Charity of choice: The Charity for Awesome that Helps Every Single Cause in the Universe Equally!
... I can't pick one, but because the commercials always severely depress me I'm going to say the ASPCA off the top of my head. Come on. Sad puppies? How can you not support a charity that makes the puppies NOT SAD?
Further comment about Vita's blogs: (could be put in the comments section under those particular blogs, but for the sake of length, let's just do this, shall we?) Organ donation has always creeped me out, frankly. The idea of my body being manipulated and cut open and having organs removed and all that makes me cringe, regardless of the fact that I'm going to be dead. Terrific concept, really. Props to people who aren't squeamish even whilst dead. The waiting list to get kidneys and stuff is incredibly long and YAY for people willing to sacrifice their dead body to save someone.
Music is awesome. I'm not very *good* musically, but I can appreciate it and I have an opinion of it. Not to overgeneralize, but generally: (DINGDINGDING! Contradiction! I know, I know...)
All rap/hiphop-- sucks
All metal/screaming-who-the-eff-knows-what-it-is-- 90 percent suck
Miley Cyrus and her clones and/or male counterparts-- vast majority of suck
Soundtracks to movies/Broadway-- Love love love.
I don't bash people who like these genres, I don't want to be bashed for being a Broadway nerd. (Though I probably deserve it... but so do Miley-crazies!)
Everything other than that I would have to judge on a song-by-song basis, using a scale of 1 to 20.
I'm going to assume you don't want to read about that.
(*gloaty gloaty obnoxious time*: Pre-X-mas Scrabble match-- WIN. Best word: equine. 70 points. =D )
Monday, December 21, 2009
I'm actually quite good at singing the latter. Well - of course, of course - I have an absolutely gorgeous singing voice on a normal day; I'm sure I don't need to remind you. I'm always in tune, I can do those little wobbly notes perfectly - gosh, I bring MYSELF to tears every time I start. I'm just THAT GOOD. *
Still, my ability to sing most of the soundtrack to The Sound of Music has greatly been improved as of late to even higher heights. "Higher" in terms of quality, of course, not pitch.
Snow days provide this sort of opportunity to explore my many talents.
Oh, by the way, it snowed MORE THAN TWO FEET on Friday and Saturday. WHAT THE EFFING FREAK. Not that I'm complaining (no school for two extra days, and did I mention the SNOW?) but really, people, this is Maryland, where we normally get school off for three inches. I was in third grade the last time it snowed almost this much. Somehow the snow seemed taller then... probably because I was a wee tot (sort of).
Anyways. I'm often critical of the entire music fanbase because 95%** of people who like any sort of music are REALLY REALLY OBNOXIOUS about it. Either you're slammed for liking "mainstream" music or slammed for liking "indie" music. You're "shallow" for not liking classic rock, yet you're a "poser" if you do. If you don't have any particular attachment, you're not serious enough, but if you obsess over a certain band you need to chill out?
To which I say: NO. NO NO NO.
It all drives me mad. I can't think of anything else that makes people so - to put it plainly - annoying. Calm the eff down, people, not everybody likes the same things you do.
That's not to say that I don't have an opinion on music. I think 95% of the things that Miley Cyrus sings are annoying, I think Nickleback is crap, I honestly can't stand The Rolling Stones no matter how much I like their logo, and I can't listen to more than three minutes of rap at a time.
But I don't attack other people because they like those things, which is the difference! I fully admit that I have occasionally annoyed one of my friends by making fun of Miley Cyrus, and for that I apologize, but it's not like I go around beating people over the head for liking her.
What do I know, anyways? I like everything from Britney Spears to MIKA to The Beatles to Slade to ABBA to wrock to pretty much every musical soundtrack ever written to, yes, even Lady Gagagagagaga. *** I'm not a fanatic about all of them; for some of them, I haven't even heard all of their songs. Music is different for everybody, though, and I fully support the idea of everybody just backing off. YAY!
FOUR DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!
** or 10%, but whatever...
*** who I didn't used to like, but she's grown on me.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Ever had a moment where your life feels less like a real actual life and more like some warped episode of One Tree Hill? Yesterday that kind of happened to me when a friend told me to stay away from her brother. I’ve had a few moments in my life when I didn’t know whether to laugh or run from the room screaming and this was definitely one of those moments. Maybe it was a joke. Either way I've since decided to make light of the matter.
I’m still at a loss for what prompted her to say this. I’ll first fill you in on a few key relationship points of her brother and me: a) I have seen him on two occasions. b) I have never talked to him. c) I have never made eye contact with him. d) I once remarked on the fact that he is good looking/hot/attractive/gorgeous. e) My friend was not present for that remark.
So it came as a bit of a shock for me when she says, completely out of the blue—and I quote—“You guys really need to stay away from my brother.”
Cue the confused faces.
Here is my response to this to the boy in question--Pride and Prejudice style. This was taken directly from Mr. Darcy's proposal(s) in the 2005 movie mashed together with the same scene in the book. I'm enjoying this, in case you couldn't already tell. Names may have been changed. In case you're confused, I'm Mr. Darcy and Glenn is Elizabeth Bennet.
Me: Glenn. I have struggled in vain and can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to this sleepover at your sister's house with the single object of seeing you... I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgement, your family's expectations and the slight difference in age between us. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.
Glenn: I don't understand.
Me: You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Ever since I've I saw you carrying those Girl Guide cookies from my door to your car, all I've thought about is you.
Glenn: I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.
Me: Is this your reply?
Me: Are you... are you laughing at me?
Me: Are you rejecting me?
Glenn: I'm sure the feelings, which you have told me have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it.
Me: And this is the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected? But it is of small importance.
Glenn: And I might as well inquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me you liked my against your better judgement.
Me: So this is your opinion of me. Thank you for explaining so fully. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time.
I really do love Mr. Darcy.
*A note to my friend, if she happens to be reading this, which I doubt, but it seems prudent: I'm sorry for making a joke of your... sentiments. I'm really not sure what was the proper reaction to you words was, but I apologize if you're hurt by this blog. Honestly, I didn't know how else to deal with it.
Friday, December 18, 2009
I guess I haven't really found "my" charity yet. I know what I want to do, which is volunteer for the Peace Corps at some point in my life, but it's difficult to pick one thing to dedicate all this time and money to. The world has so many things wrong with it, how can you choose just one? Should you spend more time curing diseases or fixing the environment? Which genocide should you try to stop first?
I suppose the charity that I'm really feeling the love for right now isn't actually a charity but an action, a movement, a something-something. Regardless, it's organ donation! Specifically, the donation of organs after a person dies (you can donate a liver or something while you're alive, but that's a bit different, I think).
Organ donation always seems to sound a little on the illegal side, although I don't think that there's a big underground body-part-selling movement going on in the black market. However, in real life, (legal) organ donation is not unsanitary or twisted or anything crazy like that; in fact, it is extremely generous and EXTREMELY awesome, because it's life saving!
Death is almost always sad. No matter how a person dies, it's hard on their families and friends, or perhaps - if applicable - the person who was responsible for their death, especially if it was an accident. With organ donation, however, the death of one person can lead to the life of another. I'm not trying to minimize the sadness associated with death and I certainly don't want people going around committing suicide so they're eligible for organ donation, but if you decide to be an organ donor, you could give after you're gone, so to speak.
Basically, organ donation is when certain organs or tissues are taken from a dead body and transplanted into the body of another person who has a health problem with that organ. Organ donation can give somebody another ten or twenty years to live. In some cases, it can even restore sight. When you donate organs, your body isn't mutilated or mishandled; the surgeons take special care to make sure that the body is restored so that the person can have an open-casket funeral if they so wish. Currently, the waiting list of people who need an organ in America is huge, and there simply aren't enough organs to go around.
Tonight, I'm signing up to be an organ donor in the event of my death. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, but unfortunately, things happen, and if for some reason that thing happened to me, I'd like to be able to help somebody.
(Also, I don't want an open casket at my funeral, no matter how old I am. Once I'm dead, I'd like to stay dead and not be propped up in front of a crapload of people who are probably all feeling pretty sad/frustrated/distraught and don't need nausea added to the list. Or maybe that's just me. I have an issue with corpses. Just let me biodegrade or something.)
I'm not clear on the process of organ donation in Canada, but it's pretty similar throughout the United States. This website - http://www.donatelifemaryland.org/ - has tons of information on organ donation and the information is almost exactly the same from state to state. If you decide you want to sign up, I'd recommend finding your own area, but that website is an excellent place to start.
Just think - it doesn't cost you anything, but it could potentially save a life. :)
I somehow managed to accumulate about eight hours of homework last night. This seems ridiculous to me as well, but I started at 3:30 pm and finished at 1:15 am (minus two-ish hours, which were lost to dinner/procrastination/the return of my sister/various other distractions/procrastination) so I suppose it's accurate. I had about six hours worth of homework from my seven classess, and then I worked on the rough draft of my MYP Personal Project Report, which was due today, for two hours. As it stands right now, it's roughly seven hand-written pages of almost complete BS. As far as I'm concerned, it's terribly written, but at least it was completed on time! It's a relief to have it started, though, and the final draft plus my actual project are not due until January 15, so I'm not killing myself over it quite yet.
Depending on who you talk to, we're supposed to get anywhere from six to twenty inches of snowy goodness this weekend. I'm excited! We haven't had a white Christmas in quite some time and I think all of us - students and staff - could use an extra three (snow) days of winter break.
Q: What is your charity of choice?
Thursday, December 17, 2009
- You like pressing the buttons on the touchscreen even when the machine fails and blinks red lights, forcing the attendant to come and help you 9 out of 10 times.
- You misguidedly believe it's faster than the regular people aisle.
- You don't feel like talking to anyone or communicating in any way. This could be because you're feeling anti-social, in a bad mood, or just don't like people in general.
- It makes you feel self important.
- You are practicing for your possible future as a cashier.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
CLICK IT NOW!
Didja watch it?
Until the veeeeery end?
Okay, I'll trust you know this but then get all excited about it anyway....
Miniature Yeti! Nerdfighterbaby! Decrease of WorldSuck via procreation! *happy danceness* Weird, I only know these people through the Internet and I'm excited. That's how awesome YouTube and Nerdfighteria and the total connectedness within the Nerdfighter community is.
On a sadder note-- I lost a bet. 5 minutes ago. What was it about, you ponder? What was lost?
Answers: Spam, my dignity.
Background: Whilst discussing the Spam song, my mom and I got into an argument as to whether the song had any more words than just "Spaaaaam" over and over. Apparently, there are exactly THREE words in the entire song-- Spam, (of various pitch and duration) lovely, and wonderful. (both adjectives describing said Spam) My mother considered these two extra words a victory. I tried to (in a very reasonable way) explain that there was no actual verse, and thus it is not a real song. This resulted in further argument, mostly in British accents. ("I DON'T EVEN LIKE SPAM!" "Doesn't bloody matter, love! LOVELY SPAAAAAAM! WONDERFUL SPAAAAAM! I was right and you were wrong, Spammity spammity spam!!")
Ahhh, lovely wonderful spammy British people. The origins of the e-mail spam are also supposedly derived from this sketch, referring to the repetitive/annoying nature of the word Spam. (Wikipedia knows everything)
The whole Spammity thing to which I was referring Deliciously absurd.
(Yes, Vita, I stole your video idea. But it takes up space and hopefully distracts you both from the lack of content in this blog. ;) )
Monday, December 14, 2009
Mmmm, yeah. AU REVOIR! :)
Saturday, December 12, 2009
*** CHRISTMAS ***
There's really a lot to say about it. Religion, presents, food, traditions, other stuff that makes it basically one big chaotic, dysfunctional, twistedly funny ball of crazy. At least in my family. A general description:
Religion-- Meh. We're not even "Chreesters" (people who go to church only on Christmas and Easter. Word copyright some dead relative of mine.) so why mention it?
Presents-- Ahhh, the whole giving v. receiving thing. I like giving gifts, but mostly I see stuff in like July that I think ____ would love, but I never end up buying it. I get my name stuck on whatever gift my mom buys. As for getting, I can never think of anything I want in advance. I'm content with the element of surprise if it means not making decisions.
FOOD-- The very definition of Christmas! ;) There's a lot of it, and it's fantastic. Even people who can't cook that well (i.e me and my mom) bring stuff. Usually desserts, there's always a TON of cookies and such.
Tradition-- Basis of everything Christmassy. For my bro's sake I still show Santa enthusiasm and get up at 5 am and everything. My dad comes over and it's pretty much like when I was younger, except for our pathetic little tree. So I don't go into my full rant all you need to know is that it's a wooden pole with poorly placed short fake branches. Another (awesomer) tradition is SCRABBLE. Arguments over the spelling of "sautee" ("But there's an ACCENT! It doesn't COUNT."-- 20 minutes later, this resulted in an accent painted on with White-Out...) and whether or not French words/swears/proper nouns are acceptable. After a few glasses of wine, it's quite funny. Being the only sober one improves my chance of winning, too. Expect some quotes in a later post to prove my point. Any conversation gets pretty crazy random... topics ranging from "Hey, are you still a virgin?" *wink wink* *debate* *urging of me to get on Oprah* to tongs for ice cubes.
There ya have it. I'll probably recap this after Christmas...
Weird magazines: I haven't seen/bought any reeeaaallly weird ones, but for vous, Vita, I shall google it.
There's a magazine simply entitled "Sheep!-- The Voice of the Independent Flockmaster" From their (weirdly very large... is there that much to say about sheep?) website: "Sheep magazine explores a wide range of sheep-related topics of interest to sheep growers [wth?] and sheep product marketers at all levels of experience."
Friday, December 11, 2009
Whatever, I'm still excited for The Season in which it is Good to be Jolly.
*Obnoxious Time, commence* In bragging news, I got in the 99th percentile for both components of the English section of the PSAT (in comparison to other sophomores). In the three sections combined (which is math, Writing/Vocab/somethin-something and Reading Comprehension/Vocab/somethin-somethin) I got in the 98th percentile in comparison to juniors. YEAH STANDARDIZED TESTING YOU DO YOUR THING. And then I was in the 87th percentile for math? I only got 3 out of 11 "hard questions" right for that one... WHOOPS. But it's okay because, you know, I never said I was great at math, eh?
(Okay I'm sorry but I have a sad life and these sorts of things excite me. I apologize.)
*end Obnoxious Time*
What do you want for Christmas?
People celebrate Christmas without giving presents? INSANITY. The whole point of Christmas is to give presents (seriously... even baby Jesus got some).
Was that offensive? Sorry.
ANYWAYS, what to say, what to say.
Well, a few things, including a ukelele. I WANT ONE SO BADLY. Do you understand how amazing they are? I WANTZ.
Smaller things, like a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, HP6 DVD (which I somehow didn't know was coming out until Alex told me on teh Twitterz!!!!!!!!!), the Warnings at Waverly Academy PC game... which is ON SALE FOR $9.99.
Oh my god I'm such a nerd I can't even handle it. (Not even; sometimes I feel ashamed for not being more enthusiastic about technological type things. Um, yeah. Lack of understanding = lack of interest [SOMETIMES].)
I'm sure there are more "mature" and "refined" things that I want... but seriously Christmas is a time to be a child and not think of such things. Dictionary, say what?
Fragrant. Loquacious. Is there something funnier? Probably... fragrant is such a weird word to me, though. What are you even doing, fragrant?
Infinity, because it's not even a number because it's THAT BADASS!
Question: Favorite/most interesting/most whatever magazine you've encountered? (My friend accidentally-ish bought a quasi-gay porn magazine once by accident. She said some of the stories were strangely touching.)
What the fakslhf am I even saying? OKAY BYE. :)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
How often are you in a bad mood?
When I have good reason... or it's Monday.
Does school make you absolutely miserable? If so, why?
Not particularly, but I could do without Math or PE. Or people. Thanksies.
Who is the sexiest man/woman you've ever seen?
Difficultness! Maybe not *the* absolute sexiest, but I have a "thing" for (elderly) actors... GREGORY PECK. GENE WILDER. *squee* I could go on.... I've pretty much taken up a permanent stay at the "People you fancy but really shouldn't" board at the Nerdfighter Ning. British, elderly gay men. I lurves them so...
What do you think about nudist communities?
Power to them. How much courage do you think it takes 60 year old women to walk around entirely naked?
Are you convinced that your religion is the RIGHT one of thousands?
Absolutely not. Confused agnosticish/Buddhist/vaguely Christian/Jedi mix is NOT the "right" one, nor is any religion.
How many channels are you subscribed to on Youtube?
What was your favorite Harry Potter book?
Seventh or third. Or fourth. Any and ALL, you should know by now any variation on this question makes me conundrumify my headz. Even if YOU are the Internet. This is just common knowledge.
Do you like teen fiction?
Agreed with Alex. Most of it, but some is just terrible.
What's the difference between a genius and a prodigy?
A prodigy learns things quickly, but then levels out to average after childhood. A genius is always incredibly smart and finds out other insanely genius stuffs. I.e, one Eureka!! moment and then... well you're thinking up anagrams whilst on a kickass road trip. I'd aim for prodigy.
Have you ever made straight A's?
Naw. Maybe in like 4th grade, but ART screwed that one. *bitter*
Have you ever failed anything?
You mean like "EPIC FAIL!!!11", or like, legit F on a project? Both. I'm not telling you anytink... *shifty eyes*
Is there anything really wrong with being a stripper?
If they're cool with it then why not?
Does marriage mean anything these days?
It means something, for sure. What it means exactly I'm not certain.
What's the weather like where you are in the winter?
Are you afraid of dying? Why or why not?
I'm wary of the WAY I'm going to die; death itself I am fine with.
Why is Freddie Mercury so awesome?
Bohemian. Rhapsody. Crazy awesome name change. Yeah, just awesome.
What kind of things do you like to watch on Youtube?
The 45 channels I'm subscribed to.
Would you have fallen in love with Disney's version of Quasimodo?
All I know is that a boy used to hit me on the head with a Quasi doll in preschool. I vaguely remember the movie, so no.
What class are you, graduation-wise?
2013. Assuming we make it til then. AHHHH THE WORLD IZ GONNA END NOOOOOEZZZ!!!
What about social-wise?
Middle-nish class, I suppose. It shouldn't matter either way. History has taught us that. (Ooooh! Oooh! I taught something! Actually I just referenced a vague concept that could be taken from history, but I DO NOT CARE. I caused LER-ning!)
Would you ever want to be a celebrity? Why or why not?
Sure, that could be fun for a while. Then I could become a crazy cool recluse/philanthropist. Always cool. Plus going through the whole "peak of fame" thing wouldn't be so bad.
Would you mind being stalked by the paparazzi and having no privacy at all?
I'm not going to lie-- I would enjoy that for exactly a week. No longer.
Do you ever feel you think way too much?
Definitely. Not all the time though. When I have nothing else to think about I think about ONE thing until I spazz. It's fun being insane and I've generally accepted it. :D
Have you ever tried to grasp your mind around how huge the universe is?
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox, they tumble blindly as they make their way, across the universe... Jai guru deva, ohmmmmmmmm...
Huh? There was a question? I suppose so, but judging how many SMALL things boggle my mind, I try not to that often.
Did you lie on any questions?
I might have modified my first set of answers... but never the complete opposite of my real opinion, no.
Math = PURE SUCK. Like that little equation??? I'm taking "Consumer Ed" next year, which teaches practical junk like buying insurance and planning a budget so you don't starve and can pay bills... as boring as that sounds and it probably WILL be, it sounds absolutely necessary. Transitioning into blabbering about school: I found out today that finals are scheduled on my birthday. Also suck, but that's in May. Noooot going to worry about it from nooooooowwwww.... lalalalalala deedledeedledeeee... MARSHMALLOWS!
Winter break: Hahaha! I get the week of Christmas (starts early cuz it's a Friday, right?) and then the week of New Years. So 10 school days total, yup.
Book club: I'd start it, but this is already crazy long and I would have to Google for formal questioningness... and only once we have chosen one to do first. Eventually discussing both of them (plus Leviathan after Going Bovine/ The Book Thief) of course.
Question: (because I guess we're still doing them... if we are not I am going to cleverly ignore it, as Vita has. :) We probably just don't need random questions to keep this discussion going any more, but the answers are pretty interesting.)
What is the funniest sounding number? (BONUS! Same question, but with the most inherently funny word you can think of. It differs from person to person, as I have learned through Wikipedia.)
Monday, December 7, 2009
Any time math involves straying from a worksheet and getting out extra paper, something is wrong.
I.e., most math is wrong.
Not incorrect, but impractical. When am I going to need this in life?
This is true of many things. I understand that they want us to be somewhat sentient creatures and that they want to Open our Eyes to the Field O' Dreams that is our Future/more career choices, but I can say with absolute certainty that I am NEVER EVER going to do anything involving chemistry (the science, not the romantic attraction) or math that involves things more complex than the Pythagorean Theorum or long division.
And I'm not talking about long division with polynomials, either.
I don't want to limit myself or others, but wouldn't it be better for us to learn how to do taxes or balance a checkbook? Some people like math, and that's great - go Algebrafy yourself to your heart's content, O Smart Ones. I, however, do not. It's not like I want to start a revolution over this and overthrow the school system, but I won't deny that there are times when I am abso-freaking-lutely no idea what the point of it all is.
Are we still doing questions? No? Okay: *
Question: What are your EXCITING WINTER BREAK plans? Also, how long do you get off for the Break of the Gods? (I get approximately a week and a half off. Or 10 days. Or something like that. LAME.)
PS, I am ALL FOR a new book. I <3 The Book Thief to bits (and I'm rereading it now!) and Going Bovine is extremely well suited for discussion. Leviathan is also a possibility, if you want to do that; I haven't read it but I should be able to get it if needed. :)
*do you like how I ignore this completely? I DO! :P
Sunday, December 6, 2009
What day is it? Okay, yes, I can be a little impatient with certain people at certain times. But I try not to be. That counts in some way.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
The first Google entry on this exact subject recommends the following for ideas:
1. Blog about anything-- total stream of consciousness thoughts. I'm not good at this when I'm THINKING about just thinking, y'know? The pressure ruins it.
2. Complain-- I have done plenty of this, and today was a good day. I'm trying to teach myself not to dwell on past complaints/things I have no control over (not going at all well, I need more self-discipline...) so complaining would NOT help that process...
3. Blog about the news-- Okeydokey then: Big crazy creepy looking Asian fish are eatin' all da little Lake Michigan fishies. They're killing all of dem. :(
4. Create a list-- Is plagiarism a list? This is it.
5. Teach people what you are an expert at-- What do you want to KNOW, students? *gazes into Magic 8 Ball of all-knowing knowledgeability*
6. Guide-- Whaaa? Okay, when you come to a fork in the road... go left.
7. Share History-- Mebblebleh? Okay: The ______ War was baaaad, kiddies. Peoplez die. :(
8. Tell a Story-- I cannot seem to think one up at the moment, let's press on.
9. (Auto-)Biography-- I am crazy. Care to know more?
10. Play the What-If Game-- Oh, this is always fun! What if, (assuming) you're in hell and you're mad at them, where do you tell them to go? Heaven? Purgatory? Alaska?
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Anyway, it is now December! Woop woop! This means many things:
1. NANO IS NO MORE. I know I should be a little sad, mourn it a little; but mostly I'm just relieved. It's nice to have some sanity back. Are you guys going to finish yours? (Ahem, Alex, since you're DONE: do you plan on revising? Like, immediately?)
2. *refer to 1* I am sane.(ish-y-er) *dance party time* *putting of things on head* Yessss, this is how I celebrate my sanity!!!
3. It's officially Christmas? I don't know, it probably started in September when no one was watching. It sneaks up earlier and earlier every year... I love the holidays, really, but only when "the holidays" are something special. When they're something to look foward to, that had it's own (month-long-ish) season. Now it's too much, you know?
4. World AIDS month. I don't know anyone personally affected, but it's so unfortunate I felt like I should mention it. I feel more sympathy for people with AIDS than say, who died of a drug overdose. Two different categories, but the latter had SOME control of their own death. There's the same point for AIDS/abstinence buried in there but it's not as DIRECT.
Whoops I have to stop this short but that's the thing for you that once it happens, IT's X-mas officially?
Monday, November 30, 2009
(Twilight was AMAZING. If it had been marketed as a comedy it would have been... SO. GOOD. I believe Twilight is self-parodying and the movie exemplifies that to great, great heights.)
And, seeing as I have made fun of the whole Twilight thing many, many times, I feel it is only fair to give it a (relatively) unbiased review.
Okay, not unbiased, but... less "WHATEVER" than would perhaps be normal.
1) The plot sucked. If they didn't have to follow the book so stringently it probably wouldn't have been so bad, but if they'd left anything else out they'd have run the risk of being murdered by The Masses.
Ignoring the fact that I don't feel the love towards many of the characters to begin with: I was not heartbroken in the least when Edward left. I was more "O HAI EDWERD, O JK BI." SO RUSHED. Same with the end. (Oh my f@#k, the end = HILARIOUS. Rena, I don't know if you've seen it/are planning to, but it is SO MUCH BETTER than the book. And by "better" I mean "ridiculous," and by "ridiculous" I mean "not in the slang sense but in the sense that it was actually absurd.")
2) Unsuspecting moviegoer: Victoria? Who the hell is that? Also, who the hell is that red haired chica and why is she hurting the wolfies?
Maybe this type of movie is made specifically for the fans - and lawd knows it worked on some level because it made a crapload of money - but if you didn't read the books, I feel like you'd be REALLY CONFUSED. Not because the plot is complicated but because nothing is explained. Maybe they didn't want to bog it down with tons of exposition, but they should have put it in there somehow, because it was... empty.
3) Acting: not that bad. Weirdly, I have never hated Kristen Stewart. I don't know what she does outside of movie making (I hear she smokes somethin'-somethin', and of that I disapprove [if it is indeed true], but other than that I don't really care about her personal life. Unless she, you knows, kills wolves or something) and from the things I've seen her in, she doesn't deserve to be hated. Not that I'd nominate her for The Best Actress EVER Award, but she's not half bad, I don't think. The stuttering/blinking is a bit overdone, but when you think about it? In line with the character. Seriously, being Bella doesn't give her much to work with. Bella has approximately 3 emotional settings/lack thereof: 1) Indifferent, 2) Panicked, 3) In Love. In New Moon Book Edition she spends the vast majority of her time in Indifferent mode. Kristen S does that pretty damn well. Occasionally she is In Love: all she has to do is breath heavily and faint, WHICH SHE DOES. Panicked: well, she did run a few times...
4) R-Pattz, I'm sorry; I get teary when you die in HP4, and I understand that Edward is not the most fulfilling roll... but you were a little... mm, creepy. More than you were before. AHHH *nightmares*
Blah, sorry for this not making any sense/destroying your brain cells. SO TIRED. <3
(PS, I feel somewhat obliged to post part of my substantially-less-than-50k-novel, and I'll get around to it eventually, but not tonight because a) the file won't open on this computer at the moment, which leads to 2a) which is that I am lazy, and b) because it is sort of crap and I'm somewhat ashamed to show it to the world. But that's okay. Friday, mebbe?)
* i.e. a "just kidding" movie, i.e. a movie that is so _____ (circle one: strange, bad, funny) that it can't possibly be considered a serious/legitimate/FOR REALS film.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
*drumroll, por favor*
MY NOVEL! A part of it; that part being a kind of prologue in the form of a letter to the readers from my FMC. This is written like an afterthought, after she's forever embittered by the experiences to be rambled about in the real novel, which means she basically (unintentionally) adopted a pretty bizznitchy tone. It is fun to write like a bizznitch. And it bumps the word count up by a bit.
The rest of it is more lighthearted, as the characters themselves are more naive, but I felt like an explanation was needed, almost like an apology on my behalf, but I couldn't stick "Hey, this novel sucks and I know it. Signed: Brain-Explodedy Author" in the beginning without sounding pathetic. Here's what I came up with in place of that:
BEWARE OF DOGS IN PURSES
(or, if you are reading this: A very simple introduction)
Dear Readers, (hah, readers...),
Before I go off on a completely nonsensical rant, (involving, among other things: love, loss, rebellion, Thought Trains, hypothetical babies, quite a bit of food, the purchasing of an island, a heated debate about pizza toppings and the meaning of life, and the formation of us.) here are some very basic things you should know:
1. My full name, given to me by the people who once were my biological parents-- the super famous Hollywood director Samuel N. James and super famous for no good reason model/ talk show host loved by all of the United States and beyond, Lily Adrienne Franklin-James-- is February Ceks (yes, SEX. Giggle like 11 year olds in public school required, gym teacher taught Health at that one.) Frames. (because the hyphenated last name would have just been over the top...)
Let that sink in, and then you can laugh your ass off. Go ahead. I would too if it weren’t me.
2. There are many more like me. The children of the super famous, fantastic, tabloid foddering, paparazzi loving, publicity craving, who’s only method of obtaining it in their verging on C-list stages of fame is procreating with someone of an equal fame level and naming their unfortunate offspring whatever “unique” thing they can come up with. And then, when the kids have been sculpted into the perfect Hollywood stardom cash cows, making them investments. Pet projects. To live vicariously through the fame they have cruelly forced upon us. Not taking into account that we are HUMAN BEINGS. With feelings and thoughts and dreams. And an abundance of green gummi bears. And POWER. Let’s not forget that.
All of this may sound extremely far fetched, cliche, terrible, melodramatic, et cetera... to you. This is REAL. Real lives were royally fucked up in this process and therefore I forbid you to laugh. Reality is real. Reality is not funny. As a wise man once said, “Life sucks then you die.” So true.
You now are wondering why we even cared, why we couldn’t just change our names and disown our parents and continue our lives, like that would make everything normal and forget what we went through. Yes, I know what you are wondering. That is precisely how you are writing off our entire existence with your filthy cynicism. You should be ashamed of yourself. It is all much, much deeper than that. We cannot be brainwashed by money and a simple change of what we are called. Sure, we all thought that in the beginning, when we were young and naive. Through the island we learned about ourselves, and we learned we were wrong. Such is life.
3. Together, we can do anything. No matter who “we” is, everyone is part of a “we”. This is probably an empowering statement, but let’s not get philosophical. My particular “we” is the Band of Rudolphs-- (you will figure that out later, trust me.) the group of rebellious “Celebritots” I helped assemble over the Internet, multiple tacos, and a trip to the circus.
This is our story.
The misfit/hedgehog tamer’s assistant/queen/taco chef extraordinaire/heartbroken regular teenage girl formerly known as February Ceks Frames.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I've never really had one of those table hoppin' family parties because my family mostly consists of the wise, i.e. elderly. I love them very much, and they are fabulous, but they are also in their eighties and have perhaps left their break dancing days behind.
For some reason, the generation above me was not into procreating, so I have two cousins - yes, two - both of whom are in their twenties. My sister and I are the youngest in our not-ridiculously-extended family. I have a HUGE extended family, but most of them are on the middle aged side and up as well, and I've met them maybe once. There were many divorces and remarryings and such on my dad's side, so I'm not even clear on who I'm related to and who I'm not. Also, they mostly live in Indiana and Michigan, and I live in Maryland, so it's not like we can just hop next door and talk to them. It's a similar situation on my mom's side except they all live in England so I have even less of an opportunity to see them! Whoo!
Basically, I HAVE NO IDEA WHO MY FAMILY IS. I just stick with the grandparents/second cousins/aunts/uncles.
THEN I received some bad news before venturing to my g-parents' house so that was somewhat of a gloomy cloud over the Table of Dreams. Oh holidays, how fun you are.
But it was alright. My sister is home until Sunday and we have a four (now three) day weekend; PARTY. When we got home, we played the Wizard of Oz Board Game which is very fun. (I had a weird Oz fetish when I was younger. I mean, I still like it, but I was OBSESSED.)
Mehrp merhp. I feel like my posts would be so much better if I could record sound chips to EMPHASIZE certain points (actually, I'd probably just hum annoyingly, but it's pretty much the same thing).
Alex, your novel is fabulous and intelligent-sounding. I bet it'll be AWESOME by the time it's finished. Wonder what it's like to be smart! ;) Rena, I'd love it if you posted some of yours, too. Party time!
*Canada, you know I love you, but please change your name to Canadia. SO MUCH COOLER. (I also think the US should change their name to Amsco, because it's a textbook making company that reminds me of scrambly eggs. Clearly, I give out good advice.)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Today wasn’t my normal classes. Today was the Saturday dance class for beginners. The difference between my classmates in this class and all my other classes was almost comical. It was all the stay at home moms out for a dance class to escape their hectic lives of shuffling their offspring from school to home, from after school activity to activity. That would never be me.
After our class we always headed over to the bakery next to the studio for a coffee. It was just me and The Moms, chatting about their mundane lives and my schoolwork and lack of a boyfriend. It made for good times.
I was standing there at the counter debating between a Danish, a triple chocolate cookie and a lemon square when a red headed, sort of cute in a weird way, boy came up to me.
“If you’re thinking about the lemon square, I can assure you that it’s 100% delicious. Magically delicious, even. It has the perfect combination of tangy tartness and sugar.”
“Is this an objective stand-point or do you have some personal interest in the subject?” I asked him with a smile.
This earned a chuckle from him, “Well, I did make them with my bare hands,” he held up ten fingers and wiggled them, “but that doesn’t mean what I say isn’t true. Would I lie to you?”
“I’ll have a lemon square, please.” I smiled and headed over to the cash register as he reached into the glass compartment to get my square. He then put it on a plate and sprinkled some icing sugar over it.
“That’ll be $2.95, plus your soul,” he said.
“Now I want the cookie, does the cookie cost me my soul?” I said.
“Why would you want the cookie? I sprinkled the sugar on this one just for you. I don’t do that for Mr. and Mrs. Templeton,” he gestured toward a couple of seniors sitting by the windows holding hands over the table like they were still in love even after sixty years of dirty socks and soggy breakfast cereal.
“Fine, I’ll eat your magically delicious lemon square. However, if it’s not as good as you say, I demand a refund,” I said, fishing around in my wallet for exact change.
“Granted. You can get it all back if you want it. Your lack of faith astounds me.” I passed over nine quarters, and a handful of pennies.
“As I grabbed the plate he had slid over to me he grabbed it too. “Are you sure you’re ready for the taste sensation that’s about to overcome your senses?” he asked, as I tried to wrestle the plate away from him.
“I’m ready. Give me my square.” He let go and I walked away, my long, black, unnaturally straight hair swinging behind me.
I headed back to our table where Linnie was telling us all about the troubles she was having in the effort to potty train her son, Kian.
You have to wonder what is going through a parent’s mind as they write Kian on a birth certificate. First of all, it sounds a little like a girl’s name, and second, do you really want your beloved child to be spelling out his name to dumb-founded peers, teachers and people in general for the rest of his life? That’s just mean spirited.
I’m glad that I have a somewhat normal name. I’ve only had to spell out my name once, and that women didn’t even speak English as her first language. Caroline is sufficiently ordinary without being commonplace like Megan or Jessica.
I listened to the parenting difficulties and ate my lemon square, which was just as tasty as it had been acclaimed to be. When it came time to talk about the teenager of the party, I was gracefully evasive and non-committal. They all smiled knowingly, pretending they actually understood me, and reminisced about their own teenage lives.
I know it sounds cynical and rude and more than a little cliché, but it’s true that these women don’t know a thing about me. I’m not blaming them, it’s just the truth. They each have their own personal image of me that reflects some part of themselves, and I’d say that that most of them aren’t at all interested in seeing if they’re right. I’m just another teenage girl, and that’s enough for them.
Eventually they all filed out, each giving an excuse such as laundry or picking Chardonae up from soccer practise. I had to stay. My workaholic mother, was—you guessed it—busy working, no surprise there, and thus could not pick me up for another fifteen minutes. In my mother’s world this translated to me sitting in the bakery for the next half hour at least.
Luckily, I was prepared. I pulled out my notebook and started doing homework. Not the most exciting stuff, but it had to be done at some point. Unfortunately—or fortunately depending on which way you look at it—I wasn’t alone for long.
“I see that you ate your entire square. Satisfying?” he plopped himself down in the chair opposite me.
“Yes, it was. My compliments go to the baker,” I said. He was still wearing his apron and his hair was slightly messed. I guess when you have short curly hair it always looks slightly messed. My brother was a testament to that as well.
---Now I skip over a part that I'm not overly fond of but will improve in the editing process. Ro is now home on the same day after a unenjoyable car ride with her mother.---
I was running up the steps to my room, not to get away from my mom but simply because I’m always running up stairs, when my twin brother Glenn called my name. Apparently he’d been waiting for me to get home. Unfortunately for me he followed me to my bedroom and took a seat on my computer chair. He sighed, dramatically. My twin was needy and clingy. If he didn’t have his own sports friends, he’d probably follow me around at school and eat lunch with my friends. I could happily ignore the fact that I had a twin and behave like a regular teenage girl does to her brother, but Glenn insisted we needed to have a connection so that we didn’t become some awful television show version of brother and sister who hated each other and were always caught up in one piece of drama or another. Glenn was... hard to explain.
“What is it Glenn? I’m exhausted from dance and dealing with our mother and I’d really just like to close the blinds, put on some music and jump up and down like a twelve year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. Don’t you have shirts to iron?”
“I’m sorry you have such a difficult life, but I need your help,” he smiled sarcastically at me. Glenn and I shared the same smile as well as a handful of other features. We had the same raven black hair—his was curly, as was mine when I didn’t spend nearly an hour after every shower straightening it—the same dark brown eyes and the same nose. We were also the same height, give or take an inch and my parents sometimes joked that our ears were remarkably similar.
“Okay, but when you’re done, instead of the Jo Bros, I’m going to blast some whiny rock music and sing along to that. And naturally, the sound is going to leak into your bedroom next door and maybe even the neighbours’ house. But you can still leave if you want,” I was hoping against hope that he’d leave me alone, but deep down I knew that when Glenn wanted to talk to you, Glenn was going to talk to you. There was nothing else I could do other than wrestle him to the floor and try to force him out. With, him being a muscular soccer player, the odds were not in my favour if it came to physical combat.
After considering that last option for about a second Glenn said, “Will you please stop being so selfish for five minutes? How was dance class?”
“I quit dance. All those desperate mothers and that little Kristina girl were seriously getting to me and I just snapped. Now I’ll be able to spend more time at home with you,” I said.
“Really?” he said. He was cautiously hopeful, while still being sympathetic to me. No one I know could pull this off but Glenn.
“No, Glenn, of course I didn’t. If I stopped going to dance I might spontaneously combust. No one wants that. Except maybe mom.”
He was accustomed to my dramatic tendencies and ignored it expertly.
“Be serious,” he complained, “I’m just trying to talk to you.” He paused for a moment, collecting himself, or maybe working up the courage to tell me he really was gay, “I need a girlfriend.”
“Oh thank God. I thought you were about to come out of the closet.” She thought about it. “This is the problem you need help with? You follow me like a puppy dog to my room and tell me not to be so dramatic and self centered and you want me to solve the impossible conundrum of your love life? Leave.”
“Fine, Ro. Be that way. I’m leaving.”
“’Be that way’? Who says ‘be that way’? Get a new catchphrase, Glenn. We left the 90’s behind a while ago.”
He ignored me. I sighed. At last I was alone. I grabbed my iPod, lay down on my bed, and wallowed in the patheticness that was my life.