Camera Issues to Bring in 2011

Happy New Year's everyone!

Or at least, to anyone that isn't on the Western Hemisphere. I have like 4 and half hours myself.

I was actually going to post something the slightest bit interesting, but I really just don't feel like it after experiencing this level of stress.

Why are you stressed out, Gemmie?

Well, pretend audience, there are many reasons as to why I am stressed, but the main reason is that video I was hoping to make for you kiddos.

O my, G! You made a video?!

Sure 'nuff. Got a camera on Wednesday and made part of a video yesterday. But then my memory ran out after I got to 40 clips with at least 15 takes on each one.
So I uploaded it all and found out that my computer cannot open the video clips.

Why?

If you stopped interrupting, pretend audience, I would tell you.
It's because the videos on Canon cameras automatically save to .MOV file types which only work on MACS.
Stupid Canon. Not everyone has a freaking Apple computer.
So I try converting it all to .AVI which works on Windows computers, but then I find out that THERE IS NO SOUND.
And I am NOT using an online converter after I installed that ZoomBrowser EX thing.

So yeah, I have been looking for a way to fix it but I just do not understand tech-head talk.
Basically, there won't be a video tomorrow... OR EVER. At least not until:
a. I figure out how to get the sound up and edit videos using Windows Movie Maker (which sucks ass)
b. My sister will let me use her Macbook, which doesn't need to have exported files
c. I get a Mac of my own
And all of those are highly unlikely.

Sorry kids for disappointing you but I've tried nearly everything just short of calling a Geek Squad member to help me in the simplest way possible.
I am on THISCLOSE to hitting my head with a hammer.

TWGS ♥ (kind of)

ACTUAL Comics?

Ah yes, I actually made a few comics on my own without using stick figures this time ^_^

What Happens When You Don't Comment

 

No, a BACONHAWK is not a Pokemon, but it would be pretty sweet if it were. It would totally kick some other Pokemon ass. 

Ash: Pikachu, I choose you!

Me: WHAT? A Pikachu? I laugh at your stupidity! Your Pikachu may be special, but it is no match for MY Pokemon! BACONHAWK, I CHOOSE YOU!!

BACONHAWK! BACON WINGS ATTACK!

Pikachu: Pika Pika! *gets smothered with 2 freaking tons of bacon*

Me: HELL YES!

This is to all you people reading, except Talia because she's the only awesome one on here for being that ONE comment.

And yes, I am going to start a YouTube channel. I plan to have a video up by New Year's (if I ever get to it).

Also, I am also going to (attempt to, at least) take a picture every day for the whole year of 2011, so I will post new pictures in every blog post starting January 1st. Look forward to that.

If you're a Harry Potter nerd like I am, you should also participate in the Ultimate Harry Potter Re-Read where you read a chapter a day of all the Potter books plus Beedle the Bard until the premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part TWO! This actually started on Christmas Eve, but you can still catch up! Today (December 27) is Chapter Four, which I believe is called The Keeper of Keys. I have been reading these chapters to my brother, so I have unfortunately not focused as much on the details and rather on making sure that my brother is listening. It's getting better than the first time I read to him. I really hope he ends up liking it when I am done. 

So Merry Belated X-Men Christmas (if you clicked the link from before, you should know what I'm talking about) and Happy Early New Year's. I hope you all get drunk and hungover at your parties like my sisters and their friends do every year. Thankfully, they gave me a perfect example of why I should not drink.

TWGS ♥

That heart is only reserved for Talia, you mother firetruckers! If you want a heart, then comment.

BONUS COMIC: The Mayan Calendar Maker

Christmas!

HAPPY X-MAS!!

And yes, I do realize this is a few minutes late in my time, but it isn't if you live west of the Mid-West!

TWGS ♥

OMG! ... I don't have a title for this >_>

YAY!! I MADE A NEW WALL PAPER!!

It's a dinosaur!
I made that entire dinosaur from scratch on the computer. No pencils or scanner or anything. Just my mouse and some paths on GIMP.

ISN'T IT PRETTY?!?!

Also:

SHAZAM!

You don't have to watch the video, I just want to point out that sexy BACONHAWK up in the right corner. Although, I do highly recommend watching the video.

The Story of the BACONHAWK!

The story is at 3:05 I think... If you don't want the video.
BUT WHO WOULDN'T?
Crazy people, that's who.

So comment, or I'll BACONHAWK you *glares at Stacy*

TWGS ♥

P.S. I'll have a legit post tomorrow :P
P.S.S. Who the hell says legit? Like seriously, I highly doubt people who use it frequently actually knows what legit means.

The 2011 Project of EPIC!ness and Turning Points

Well hey there, stranger.

So no comments, eh?
I SHALL SIC BACON HAWK ON YOU ALL!
And if you don't know what a bacon hawk is, then you should be ASHAMED.
Shame!
It is the most fearful and the most awesome creature in the world.
Crazy kids. Not knowing what a bacon hawk is. Feh!

But no seriously. Comment because I feel like I'm talking to no one.
Maybe I am, but the hit counter proves otherwise!
Of course, most of those would be from me...
But if there are people out there, speak up now or I just won't make the effort anymore.
I have a show to watch, you know!
Sure, it's only on Tuesdays, but I spend the whole week trying to figure it out...
It's not Glee, in case you're wondering.

Even if it's a hater comment, I really don't mind.
Just freaking comment, dammit!


My dad has a little slip of paper with tally marks right next to the computer.... I wonder what it's for.
Maybe he's counting the days left of sanity he has.
No wait... that would be counting down, then....
I don't know, but there's like 16 rows of 15 tally marks.
Maybe it's a dead body count!
No, my dad's not a murderer.... or is he?
He could be. I honestly don't know what he does. I know he's off work, but he's still taking classes for something. Of what, I do not know.

Speaking of things I don't know, I have no clue what this post is about.
I just... got on. And I'm sticking to my vow. At least for this break.
One thing is for sure, I am not telling you about my teen problems. No siree, Bob.
Who the hell is Bob anyway? And why is he always the first name to pop up into people's heads?
If my name was Bob, Robert, Bobby/Robbi or any other variation of that, I'd go into carpentry/woods so I could be BOB the BUILDER.

Hmm... very random today.

OH! ... wait no...
I saw this on a post somewhere on MNI, but I just realized it would be a bad idea.
It was a "Summary of 2010."
But here's my Summary of 2010:
{                                         }
No, ninjas did not take that summary. There is NOTHING memorable about 2010.
Actually, that's a lie. But it's nothing I would like to share with you.

So I'm going to make a vow with you guys okay? And anyone reading this HAS to do this too, as well as comment your vow.
I vow that I am going to make 2011 as memorable as possible. I know this will probably blow over after the first week, but I am going to try to do something within that first week. I'll even attempt getting photographic evidence of something the slightest bit memorable.

This shouldn't be called a New Year's Resolution. If 2012 really does exist, then 2011 will be the last full year on this Earth, right? I'm going to end it in the best possible way ever (maybe.... if I actually commit to something for once)! Even if doomsday doesn't really exist than whatever! This is my Freshman year! I should do something worthwhile, even if it is one thing.

But I need ideas! Which means this is where YOU, my dear readers, come in.
Comment below giving ideas as to what would be something totally awesome to do next year. And seriously, don't flake out on me guys. I consider this pretty damn important.
I shall call this

The 2011 Project of EPIC!ness

Or something like that. If you have a better name, then great! Tell me and I'll make you something special <3

Also, tell me what you want to accomplish next year. 

Do NOT call it a New Year's Resolution, because people never end up doing those. 

Call it a.... a Turning Point. Yeah... when you reach that goal and look back on it, you will realize that it was a major turning point in your life. And even if it isn't major, it will still be something to remember.

So (please, please, please) comment below with your ideas of what I should do for The 2011 Project of EPIC!ness and what your Turning Point is.

I already have two ideas.

1. Play leap frog in the halls when I get back from break

2. Start a YouTube channel.

I'd love to hear your feedback.

TWGS ♥

Vocab Comics

Why hello there, boys and girls!
And that was my attempt to be Hannibal Lecter.
Apparently all he does is get really close to cameras and whisper.

XD
Oh Destery, how you do make me laugh. ^_^

Anyway, what's up kids?
Don't you just love winter break? I'm on more frequently than ever now (except maybe when I first started this)!

So I was on this super hilarious website filled with comics and I remembered something my friend Alyssa told me last week:
"You should make comics!"
Well I personally don't have the patience, motivation, or talent to draw 100s of pages of funny everyday, but I do make some considerably funny drawings when I get the chance.
Like in seventh grade, we had these words that we used to look up in the beginning of lit class. There was a space where you would draw something to remind you what the word meant. I would always draw this ongoing series between two guys that would act out or say something involving the word. My teacher said it was pretty humourous.
Oh and earlier this year when learning about photosynthesis and respiration, we had to draw a comic showing the connection for both. Mine was pretty kickass. My bio teacher even asked if she could keep it to show future classes. I should have said no...
And currently in English we have vocab words to study and memorize by putting them on index cards. Those were what Alyssa was studying off of when she told me I should make comics.
Since those are the only things of comic form that I still have in my possession, I shall share a few with you today! *yay!*
*Note: I had to go over them in ink, so I'm sorry if you can't read some of what it says.

I actually stole this idea from Brad XD

It's Ducky Momo!

This one's my favourite!

RONALD! (2nd favourite)

I stole this from the website I was talking about XD

Inspired by Riddle School ^_^

Degrassi reference!

Another Degrassi reference!

Marianas Trench "Cross My Heart" music vid ^_^

lol. Haymitch reference XD

MTrench "All To Myself" music vid!

This. Is. SPARTA!

Anyway, I have more of these, they're just not as awesome/cool/funny, as these.

That's all I really feel like sharing right now. Just be glad that I didn't make you read a whole lot like last time. ^_^

That comic site I was talking about:

The Oatmeal

Have fun laughing your flipping arse off!

TWGS ♥

P.S. I do believe that you can click on each image for a large view of them. Bonsoir, everyone (kind of)!

Graphicky Fun

Holy crap, I am on AGAIN!
Craziness.

I told you that I would post whenever I'm on. It just took me awhile to actually post something >_>

Well kiddos, I actually don't have anything for you at the moment...
*gets pelted with rotten tomatoes*
Wow. Thanks.

But I'm actually only on to post my splendiferous new solo CoS. For some reason Kat and I just haven't talked in a tremendous amount of time so I'm just not jointing with her this time
*For you people who don't spend their free time on a Harry Potter fan site, a CoS (or Chamber of Secrets) on MNI is a journal of sorts that you can keep on the site. They recently revamped and reinforced the forum with extra rules and whatnot, so I'm updating that today.

I was originally going to upload pictures from my phone, but I realized a lot of them were pointless so I decided to just post them on Facebook (:
After all, it is the vortex of all things pretty much pointless.
Why do I have one...?

However, I am going to share with you the three new graphics I made for myself on MNI, so I shall share those with you today.

My new icon on MNI. Cute, huh?

My new banner for my CoS! It's pretty, eh? The lyrics are from Fall Out Boy's Homesick at Space Camp.


I also had a new signature, but then I realized it's transparent and the font is in black.
However, I do have the linky for you!
CLICK!
The lyrics are from Fall Out Boy's Pretty in Punk.

Yeah... that's pretty much all I have for you today.
But I'm pretty sure you're all tired of reading from that super long blog post last night, right?
I know I'm not!
I am just so witty in my own head.

TWGS ♥

(comment, or I'll sic the bacon hawk on you!)

Notebook Musings

Hey kids! I'm back again!
I really hope you all forgive me for not posting in a REALLLY long time.
I honestly don't have a very solid excuse for my lack of postage.

You know what? To make it up for you I'm gonna give you some chocolate!
Here you go!
Okay well that's not really chocolate, but it's yummy right?
And for those of you who read but don't ever comment.
A special something for you.
Yeah. That's from the Big Man himself, as well.
So please comment! I see over 150 views on my hit counter, but no one ever comments!
It makes me sad.

Pfft. Who said you needed a video for visual examples?

So I have no idea what this blog post is about. I just felt like posting since I was actually ONLINE for once.
Let's make that habit, shall we? Anytime I am at a physical computer for more than ten minutes, I am going to post something. If you see me online (facebook, a tweet from the web/chromed bird and not my phone, MNI, etc...) and there is no post, you have every right to come and yell at me.
These posts can be something very thought provoking, completely random, or only one word long (Although I highly doubt I'll be able to contain myself). I just want to make sure that you have a dose of Gemmieness in your veins.

What is Gemmieness you ask?
"Gemmieness" can be loosely defined as "the sum of all things perverted, random, angsty, Fall Out Boy FANtics, book-loving, crazy, and just plain weird with a slight hint of intelligent humour."
I shall make that a thing one day.

Speaking of angsty, this week was Finals week and today marks my first day of winter break (which I plan to sleep through). Lucky for you, I just might post more.
However my point in bringing up the fact that it was finals week is that after finishing my last final, I had no idea what to do. Deciding to write, I pull out my awesome writing notebook but found I had no muse to write whatsoever. Instead I look through previous writings which I find rather interesting to read through many months in the future. Today, I shall share them with you!
My notebook is generally short, so I'll share everything I have written in it, excluding my Vladimir Tod fanfic which I for some reason did not finish (it's about their prom night, in case you were wondering) and what I intended to be the first blog I posted after my short hiatus. Plus I have some random drawings in there that you unfortunately will not be able to see, but otherwise my notebook is completely open to you (and all my angst that comes with it).

Info: What I intend to be the beginning of the first book in that trilogy I hope to write one day.
A flash.
To lose everything you know to be true in a single instant is the most scarring loss. It comes quietly, sliding in when you least expect It and taking root inside you until It alters your life completely. "It" can be anything - your parents' divorce, a single cigarette offered to you, learning that you have an incurable disease.
For me, "It" came in a flash.
One second I am normal, and in the next I am a freak.
See, the thing is, I can read minds.
I can also feel what others are feeling by the slightest brush of skin.
It is a miracle, really, that I am even still alive. Most people would die, others come out considerably normal. But I'm not normal. I am stuck floating between the two, possibly not even fully human. All because of that single instant.
The worst part of these incidents? You don't even realize what it does to you until it is too late to reverse it.

Info: An entry I wrote when I was angry at my mommy for threatening to sell my dogs. This did not end well.
Swish and clank.
The bars of the door allow a limited view of the Outside. But there is no denying the truth of these bars. They weren't made for viewing and scenic purposes. They were meant as a locked cage.
For imprisoning.
Cages were made for criminals and the mentally insane. The jailers rule with an iron fist, unwavering and unattached to the constant wails and pleas that would protrude behind those bars almost nonstop for periods at a time. But sometimes the cages should hold the jailers. Their iron firsts will turn to grips of lead, preying on the innocent and helpless. Bloodthirsty and ruthless, their rampage continues to no end until everyone is gone.
It's because of them that cages aren't just meant for imprisoning anymore. Those thrown inside were left to be locked in. But the ones occupying the inside can find a certain safe haven.
Cages can also keep the jailers out.


Info: A poem describing my teen anger. No real title to this. Probably going to name it "Waiting"
*I don't feel like writing it out in the same format as it is on the page, so every / stands for a line break. Every line break in this post stands for a new stanza.
Waiting./ Always the same./ Just sitting./ Only waiting./ For a beginning./ For an end./ For a sign./ Something./ Anything./ Everything.
How can I be alive/ When I'm not living?/ I've been asleep./ I am asleep/ And now I'm waiting./ Waiting to wake up/ Because I just can't do it myself./ Not right now.
If this is my crisis/ Then I'm halfway through life./ Maybe I'm still climbing/ And I haven't reached the peak./ I can't make it/ When I'm just waiting./ The peak's not coming to me./ I have to come to the peak.

Info: A second poem on the same page, but upside-down. I stopped in the middle of it to write, "And I suck at poetry...." because I was just angry at myself for lack of quality or flow. No title for this either.
Love./ Noun./ Definition?/ Unknown./ No one knows./ How it feels?/ I couldn't tell you./ But I know,/ Unlike everyone else./ I know if its power./ It's nothing to be toyed with./ Love is a bomb/ Ready to be set off./ There's a time to let it go./ But anytime before is disastrous.

Info: A third poem on the back of the other two. I wrote this right when one of my er... "acquaintances" I suppose, started dating this guy I really really liked at the time. Although to think of it, I probably didn't have a reason for liking him other than the fact that he's pretty damn hot (which is a really good reason!)
Frustration./ Indecision./ Why/ Is/ This/ Happening?/ Uncharted feelings./ Dormant emotions./ A whole new existence./ One not thought of before./ At least not by me.
Screwed over./ I set myself off to lose./ Set myself up for disappointment./ This is what happens.
Tears./ Hatred./ One friend less/ All because of a face/ One that might as well be nameless./ One without an identity./ And I screwed myself over./
I hate Monday Mornings.
*I edited some of that because it was all just one big blob. And yes, this happened on a Monday morning.

Info: Ranty rants. I had writers block so I just started writing what was in my head.
Just so you know, a lot of these next couple entries will be about the event that inspired the previous poem.
Whatever happened to straight up confrontation? Everyone always relies on Facebook now to do dirty work for them, yet when it comes to real life situations, everything is always awkward and no one is really a friend. They're just a number. Friend number six. Friend number 58. Friend number 232. "I don't really know you, and I kind of hate you, but I'll add you anyway so I look popular. But really, I'd rather see you falling in a chasm and rotting there for the rats to pick up the remains." Nothing is real anymore. No one knows who their real friend are who they can trust. Reality is just a state of mind now. It's filled with pointless drama and petty arguments that don't really mean anything. The biggest insult now is deleting a person from their friend list. Way to get the point across.
Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts...
I've sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness because none of it was ever worth the risk.
I wouldn't sing of love if it does not exist...
I've got a tight grip on reality but I can't let go of what's in front of me here....
What the hell happened to my views? I'm becoming  the posterchild of everything I hate - the frivolity of the so-called teenage love. The drama and the mindless hurt. I mean, it's pointless. Now I'm crying at the bitter truth of The Only Exception. God, I hate that band for its commercial popularity and the fact that everyone sports some type of their merchandise when they only really know one song. Now I'm crying over a song that should mean nothing to me. I don't even know this kid. He's little more than a face that I pass by in the morning. The amount of time we've talked to each other equals half an hour. The chances were slim, but somehow she got to be in that.

Info: A series of notes my friend and I passed to each other during World History. Oh God. She's SO kill me if she saw this on here! BUT TOO BAD!
If only you still liked Gary...
I kinda do...
Whaaatt?? Way to tell me. JK, dude.
Like I don't want to, but I can't really help it.
I hate that feeling. Like seriously, I'm pissed off at myself for liking a guy I don't know for superficial reasons.
The "M" guy?
Nah. i have good reason for crushing on him. I'm talking about That Guy.
Oh, haha. You're in love ♥
NO! That's a lie. "In love' is a term I'm not using til I know what I'm feeling and all confusion is gone. The L-bomb should be used warily.
=) Yeah. I Know what you mean. I think it takes a long time to fall in love. People just fall in lust.
Exactly! But at the point of my views, I'd have to be in a relationship for 5 yrs before marrying.
Mine's at least 3 years.
Godspeed, dude.
I really want to talk to That Guy right now.
At least you can! I'm not going to be stalkerish and add a random dude on Facebook... til this weekend.
This weekend? Nice. Dude, you can so talk to him if you wanted to.
Uh huh. HOW?
When you see him in the hall say hi and start a conversation.
That's funny, Bri. You act as though I have the confidence to do so.
Dude you never know.
... Your optimism is harshing my pessimism. and pessimism is just a term for "firm grip on reality."
You don't. Do you see him at all in the day?
Only in the morning.
....hmmm. You don't see him in the halls?
Like once in awhile. Besides he doesn't know me!
He knows you. Just not that well.
* In case you're wondering, I never did add him.
Oh That Guy, how you used to plague my thoughts and dreams.
If you're also wondering, they're no longer together. Brielle told me to go for it.
Well, he did sit next to me at the Art Club party.... XD

Info: Another rant. This time on how utterly dull my life is.
Sometimes I feel like a phone that's just about to run out of batter. But when my battery is about to die, I can't find the charger. I tell my father that my battery died and he asks jokingly, "Should we hold a funeral for it?"
I have been sucked dry.
I have no muse to draw. I have no muse to write. I don't even have the muse to read. So what have I been doing for the past couple of weeks?
Sleep.
I only have the muse to sleep. Just to sleep and lose myself within myself. Because when I am awake my mind batters itself with swirling thoughts and questions that I can't share with anyone. I come up with pretend scenarios in my head that will never come true. I drone on in school, unsure of what to do while this fantasy world plays in my head, coming up with pathetic little quips I would never be able to say in real life. My God, what have I been doing? These past few weeks have been a blur of teen angst and frustration. But because of what? Some melodramatic extremity that, again, would probably never happen?
But wait. It did happen. Just not to me. Because I have holed myself up in a little safe zone that I never put a toenail out of. I won't be that crazy old lady with 52 cats because I already am one. As well as a gray-toned middle aged man that works in a dull office cubicle everyday, just waiting for that heart attack to come and claim my life.
And I want to change, I really do, but how am I supposed to start? I have absolutely nothing to live for; I've no goal set in mind. I am just doing what all good little 13 year old high schoolers do - go to school, pretend to learn something, get good grades.
Dear Lord. The middle aged man in me is going through his Mid-Life Crisis. How sad it would be to actually be going through that at this age and knowing that you peaked too early long ago. So what do people going through such a stage do? Hang on to their youth. Dye their gray hairs, buy expensive cars, dress in sexy clothes... all that good stuff.
But how am I supposed to hang on to my youth when I didn't know I had one in the first place? It completely skipped over me.
It's time for a change.
*I love how I never really did change...

So I don't know if you're still here after all that, but if you are I love you for loving me enough to read all that (or at least skim through it).
It is now 1:10 AM, December 18. I think I am going to retire upstairs now.

TWGS ♥

I hope that makes your life better.

Gemmie Died....

Why hello there, kiddos.
....
I know what you're all thinking.
"Who the hell is this person who decides to show up after not posting for four months? It's certainly not Gemmie!"
Okay fine you caught me. I'm not her. I'm her best friend and I have some really depressing news to tell you.
Gemmie is.... dead.
During this battle between our school and an evil force, she had to sacrifice herself so the ring leader of the other side wouldn't kill everyone else. So she went to the forest near our school to meet her "mortal" enemy, and he killed her there. However, because he stole her blood, which contains the protection of her mother's sacrifice, and because part of his soul lives in her body, she technically is still alive. I have seen her body, though, and it is not moving. I know that she should be alive, I just expect that the former head of our school is monologuing this giant spiel about his theories between her and her mortal enemy, so it's taking her so damn long to wake up from this limbo like state.

hehehehe. You non Potter nerds probably have no fucking idea what I just said there. Just so you know, I ruined the last movie for you. You're welcome.
But yes, I am alive. I just never go on the computer anymore.
LIKE FREAKING NATHAN. Seriously, it's been like two months since we last heard from that dude.
I'm pretty sure absolutely NO ONE knows who I am talking about.
Unless you're Stacy, then you know EXACTLY who I'm talking about.

So why haven't I gone on the computer in so damn long?
Honestly, I am more clueless than you non Potter nerds were.
Lyk, srsly. What the hell have I been doing in my life? These past few months have been a freaking abyss, and I am just an empty shell within it taking up space.
I mean, not to be depressing or anything >_> <_<
But I swear! I have about zero recollection of anything. Especially before last month.

So I'll tell you about what I do remember.
On October 27, Stace and I drove down to Naperville to see the one and only, SCOTT WESTERFELD!
It was pretty fucking amazing.
Actually it was more like meeting an old dude. But his presentation was awesome. Needless to say, I learned some pretty crazy shit from that guy. Possibly more than I have learned in English and Biology put together.
And he is PRETTY hilarious. So if you're a fan of his books and he's on tour to an area near you (and by near, I mean within a 50 mile radius because we drove for like an hour and a half), then GO TO IT. If you have something on the same day, CANCEL IT. If you have never read a Scott Westerfeld book, THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? Pick up a book by him NAO.
I have a picture with him, me, and Stace, but I don't feel like uploading it at the moment.
And then on the Tuesday following that, he had a live chat with his fans. It was basically a Q and A thing.
But guess what, HE ANSWERED MINE!
I wished he had answered a different question, but HE ANSWERED IT!
You guys wouldn't understand it though, because it was related to his newest book, Behemoth.

And my mother got me an HTC phone for my birthday.
I have no idea why she would give me such a fancy and expensive phone, given my history with phones (broken, broken and lost, go phone) and my certain level of ungratefulness (America has rubbed off on me!) but she did. It was a two for one sale though, so I'm sure she was going to get it for herself but just didn't feel like trying to figure it out. In any case, my daddy has the other one and I have mine! (It seriously took me like two hours before deciding to take it though, just because I knew I would end up wasting it)

Oh and because of said phone, I got obsessed with YouTube.
Yup. Over weekends and breaks I stay up until almost dawn (and at one point, I didn't sleep until 8 am) watching YouTube.
Mostly by videos by
- Elmify
- Wheezy Waiter
- Charlieissocoollike
- Shimmycocopuffss
- Shane Dawson
- DesAndNate/CapnDesDes/AhoyNateo

The last guys are my current obsession (particularly Destery since Nathan doesn't post AT ALL like I said, but he is still pretty awesome) and are the reason I swear more often than I should (and make more dirty jokes than ever). Although I do highly recommend watching them because they are pretty fucking hilarious.
I never would have found them had it been for Shane Dawson (damn you, Crazy Dawson).

So that's also part of the reason why I have been putting off posting a blog.
But mainly because I was hoping to come back in style and make a video where you can see my crazy and contagious antics (which I got from other YouTubers). However I just don't feel like embarrassing myself should a family member walk in and hear me swearing into the webcam.
Which also proves to be another problem, as I do not have a proper camera.
However, look for that soon. Possibly.

And last Saturday was Stacy's Quinceanera.
It was fun. Met some new people. Made out with some others.
Just kidding.
But let's not get into that, shall we? Because thus begins the start of my angsty problems, which have been dormant for a considerable amount of time.
And I am just not sure if you all want another whiny teenager complaining to the world about her problems. Decisions, decisions.

So how have your last few months been? Are you as boring as me and watched YouTube the whole time? Or are you as fun and exciting as I hope you are?
Then again, if you were fun and exciting then you wouldn't be reading this blog, now would you? Like seriously, this is pretty irrelevant to your life. Why the hell are you reading this? STOP IT. There's nothing interesting here! Freaking pedophile stalkers >_>

But I love you anyway!
So say I love you to anyone you see, because everyone could use more love.
Unless they're creepers.

♥ TWGS

Possibly the Second Worst Cliffhanger

Okay, so I realize that I haven't posted in almost two months now and I sincerely apologize.
But you know what, my life is completely uneventful. All I can tell you about the past six(?) weeks is that there's this guy in the library that we officially named the hottest guy in school and the accounting class I was dreading on having is actually the best class of the day. Also, I miss sheet music and choir. And I realized that I only see about 2 or 3 hours of real sunlight during the week before I nap the day away.
But I don't see why you guys would want to know about my life anyway. It's not like it's fun and exciting and filled with adventures every day. It's always the same routine. Wake up late, go to school, hang around in the library for less than half an hour in the mornings, go to English or World History, go to Algebra 2 and say nothing at all during that amount of time, work on some stuff in CUP, go to lunch and sit at the same table with the same people while ignoring their conversations every day, go to biology and feel sorry for Ms. M who has to deal with the rowdiest freshman who never listen to her, go to accounting and fall asleep because the vent is freezing and my desk leans against a wall, either go on the bus where I have nowhere to sit because Maryan never saves me a seat anymore or go to Art Club where we make buildings for homecoming decorations then go home and sleep until seven or nine and procrastinate on my homework until around 10 then eating and making my lunch at midnight before going upstairs to my room where I watch What I Like About You until 2 am. I mean, for the world's longest run on sentence, that's pretty much my entire life. In a nutshell, it's just "school, (art club), nap, (procrastinating on) homework, eat, sleep." That just screams exciting.
What's sad is that I realize this and don't do anything about it. But hey, what can I do? I only really have like three friends, one of which makes me feel invisible most of the time, and I have no car or money or any spontaneity in my life. If I were rich and could drive and had more friends I'd totally do some awesome stuff.

Anyway, to cheer you up (actually, probably make you more mad at me), I've decided to show you the end of the second book in my very underdeveloped series I plan to actually finish one day.
I know I realize that I'm completely ruining what could possibly be the second worst cliffhanger in the history of the world (after Catching Fire but before Eleventh Grade Burns) but I will most likely re-edit everything later in life when I look back on it and realize how horrible my writing is now.
And to add on to that, for any of you who know what my former plot line is, I'm kind of mixing it up again. This is like the third time of me doing so, but this time I feel like it'll actually be a little less lame and might add on to the teenage appeal (especially if I decide to do what I'm thinking of doing should I ever officially decide to make my MCs a few years older).
So without further ado, part of the final chapter of the second book in my series (the title of which, is still being decided alongside other plot lines of the story).


(Marc)

                I stare him down, a fire raging behind my eyes and in my chest. But my stomach is as heavy as lead. “What did you do to him?” I demand. It annoys me how this smirking bastard has the upper hand while I am left completely powerless. For once, I got my wish to be normal and now I am paying the price. Worst of all, he knows it. I should have just wished for world peace like every other Miss America contestant.

                Cal leans forward and a devilish grin forms on his lips. It’s taking all of my strength to restrain myself from leaping across the table and ripping his throat out to feel his sweet pain and agony course through my veins, but I stay put. He raises an eyebrow and says, “You know exactly what I did with him, Marci.” He pronounces my name with such thick sweetness as poisonous as rattlesnake blood that my body involuntarily shudders before it dawns on me what he was implying. My heart skips to my throat, making it only possible for me to retort through clenched teeth, “My name is Marc.”

                His eyes glitter. “But Marc is not a nice name for such a beautiful young lady.” This guy had to be a pedophile. He reaches his hand to touch my face, but I flinch away from him. Damn. There goes my cool exterior. He sits back, even more smug. “Oh, Marc. Darling Marc. Join me, and you will be unstoppable. You can control your powers so easily that you won’t need to wear a dirty hat to block out unwanted thoughts or cover your skin anymore so you can have contact with other people again. You don’t need this shell that you are hiding in that separates you from the world. You can turn on and off your powers at will. You don’t need Reese. He limited your powers – he distracted you. Made you lose focus. With me, you can even have powers that the son of a bitch telekinetic had, and more. With Reese out of the picture, there is nothing stopping you from re aching greatness. All you have to do is join me.”

                A cold sweat breaks across my skin, coating my palms and moistening my upper lip. Reese is gone, and there is no reversing it. I feel like every system in my body is breaking down, crumbling to bits more and more until fissures split my skin and I shatter completely. But I keep my composure and stare him down. “You’re right,” I begin. “There is nothing to stop me anymore.”

                He curls his lip more but says nothing. Suddenly, I can’t look at him anymore. His sneering face and malicious aura is too much for me. The blank white walls close in on me, pressing me to continue, as if it were daring me. I look past his head, focusing on the view of the grey Lake Michigan before looking back at him. “There is no stopping me,” I repeat. I raise my eyebrow a bit and flash him my own devilish grin. “From leaving.”

                In an instant, I leap out of my char, knocking it over in the process. I step onto the table between us, using Cal’s head as a support as I leap frog over him. He yells out, calling for guards, but I’m already running towards the window headfirst. By the time the sound of the guards’ angry shouts reach my ears, the glass is already shattered on the floor, and I am plunging to the water watching the black expanse rushing towards me.

(Reese) 

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

                It was all a dream? A freaking dream? What kind of insane and twisted psychopath would hijack some guy’s brain? This Cal dude, whoever the hell his is, has some serious issues. I was just a pawn in his sick little game, and so was Marc. But not anymore.

                I speed down the highway, feeling my adrenaline rush restore most of my strength. Marc is okay, I keep telling myself. They didn’t get to her. She’s waiting for me at her house. Repeat.

                I grip the steering wheel, almost afraid it would break in my hands. Focusing on keeping the needle on the seventy so I won’t get pulled over by any highway cops, I swerve between cars with record speed and precision. In less than twenty minutes, I’m already on the exit that leads to Marc’s sleepy town.

                I check the time. 11:29. I can feel my nerves knotting and jumbling up in my stomach, getting more and more tangled with every passing intersection. How long was I there for, anyway? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? A chill runs down my spine as I think of Marc being at the mercy of some deranged lunatic for months without my help. Marc is strong, but she’s dealing with a total whackjob.

                A few streets away from Marc’s house, I park along the curb and make a quick check for any thoughts of lingering night crawlers nearby before ditching the car. I pound the sidewalk, trying to look like a usual teenager cutting curfew. As simple as my role is, I have trouble keeping myself from running all the way down the street and waking up sleeping neighbors. My heart beats loud in my ears, as low as a bass that surface above the wails of guitars and the clash of drums. Adrenaline floods through my veins, making my nerves knot even more at the pit of my stomach. My breathing comes in quick, short breaths.

                Marc is okay. They didn’t get to her.

                Suddenly, the world slows down. Every step is like walking through tar, and the road doubles in size with ever foot I walk. Forgetting my cover, I start running.

                I am so focused on running that I almost miss her house once I get there. It hides behind two large trees that squat in the front yard. I have only ever seen a glimpse of it once when I first met Marc a week before I was captured. Then, it was sunny outside and the house looked warm and inviting, even if it was small and isolated. Now, it just looks lonely and empty. There is only one window full of light. All the rest are dark. But as I look closer, my breath catches. The window has a faint purple glow to it. Marc’s room.

                I dash in, not even bothering to knock or ring the doorbell. I just let myself in, using my mind to unlock the door. I hurry to her room, all the while calling out for her. “Marc! Marc!” Relief starts to ebb my anxiousness. Until I reach her doorway.

                “Marc, I’m so glad – ”

                I stop dead in my tracks. There, sitting on Marc’s bed, is her mother holding a picture frame and weeping. She looks up when I enter, her eyes puffy and her nose running. Not good. “Reese,” she says breathlessly.

                “Mrs. R.? What’s going on?”

                She puts down the frame hastily to hide the picture from my eyes. But I see the smiling face captured and treasured forever within the tiny frame. Marc. “Nothing’s going on. I was just reminiscing on memories and got overwhelmed by emotions. That’s all.” She offers a strained smile.

                I eye her warily. “I see where Marc gets her impeccable lying habit,” I start slowly. Mrs. Renegade’s shoulders slump. “Don’t lie to me, Mrs. R. She taught me how to read minds.” My voice wavers. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to say her name anymore.

                “Oh Reese,” she says again. She stalls, and with every passing second panic rises in my throat. I bite my lip, not ready to hear what she has to say but expecting it all the same. I just don’t want to hear it being said out loud. In my head, it call still be a farfetched nightmare.

                Marc’s mother looks up at me now with her eyes filled with tears. Looking down on her, she looks smaller than I remember, as if she were being weighed down by this truth she is trying so hard to let out. I wait for her with bated breath.

                “Reese. Marc is dead.”

This looks a LOT shorter on the post editor. XD

Don't you all just hate me now? Most of you probably don't even know the history behind the characters, so if I actually wrote out the entire series and you followed it all, you'd be like, "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR? WHY ARE YOU SO HEARTLESS AND CRUEL AND EVIL?!"

Just chill, okay? It gets better in the next book (which I hope will be the last, since I want this to be a trilogy and all).

But maybe you guys have a different idea of what "better" is than I do...

Anyway, everything before this point is nearly nonexistent. I realized how horribly flimsy my former plot was and I was like, "Oh screw it. I'll just write it differently."

Book Two will be the biggest book for major plot twists though. Just saying ;)

So let's hope that once I finish the series maybe 10 or 15 years from now, you will all forget everything about this post. ^_^

If you don't, I'll just use reverse psychology with you like I did Stacy when I tried to convince her that she didn't remember me saying anything about the end of Fang.

And let me tell you, it WORKED.

TWGS ♥

Random lists....

Yo.

So I haven't been blogging in way more than a month.
Why?
Because my life is completely, utterly dull. Nothing interesting worth repeating has happened, and if anything has happened then I'm sure I've made a way to make the event very dull in my mind.
Like on the 31st my sister was throwing a party for my nephew's birthday and my niece's baptism, and I slept through half of the entier thing.
And then on the next day we went to Navy Pier and yet I spent the entire length of it helping my dad babysit the kiddos.
Yup, it's quite pitying. Especially since my school year starts a week from tomorrow and I feel like I've done NOTHING at all this summer.
Seriously, did summer of 2010 really exist? It feels like it's only been a week long. And I seriously did like, NOTHING. AT ALL. But I blame myself for being a lazy ass procrastinator.

Anyway, if you're looking for a certain reason for me to be posting, you're not going to get one. I just pretty sure you all missed me. ^_^
But I really don't have anything to write about anyway, so I'm gonna give you all a list to enjoy!

Things You Should All Know Before You Talk To Me.

1.) I. Am. DEAF. Seriously, don't even try to get my attention unless you're like three feet away from me. Don't even try to get my attention at all when I have my headphones in because it's always on ear-splitting levels. If you want to get my attention, you'd do best at throwing a shoe at me. And even if you are talking like, right in my face, I probably still can't hear you unless you talk clearly and loud enough. Plus, if I try to talk to you from across the room, too, I'm probably talking REALLY loud. It comes with the whole being deaf thing, so just don't talk to me unless you want to repeat yourself a bunch of times or be overheard.

2.) I am also blind. If you want to bring my attention to something in the distance, I most likely won't be able to see it unless it's bold and obvious. Of course, I can see things that matter to me (like people wearing band tees or cute guys in the distance) but it will take some time for me to find it. So please, for the love of God, don't try to make me see something unless it's either hilarious or something that I probably care about.

3.) If I'm reading a book, don't even TRY to talk to me unless you want to get snapped at. Especially if it's an incredible book that I've been keeping my nose in at every possible chance. So if you see the words "Maximum Ride," "Hunger Games," "Harry Potter," or anything else I might be holding that looks like a sci-fi book or something I haven't taken my eyes off of in awhile, just walk away.

4.) I also happen to be perverted. Not in the "look up your pants" kind of way but in the always hilarious "That's What She Said" way. I can most likely find a TWSS joke in anything you say, even in the most subtle sayings, so if you hate when people get all immature  about all that, then choose your words VERY VERY carefully around me and proceed with caution.

5.) There is the offchance that I just don't want to talk to you at all. Or anyone as a matter of fact. I am what people usually call "a loner." I enjoy my own quiet solitude and absolutely hate, hate, hate being in huge groups of more than three people. And with certain people, I just don't like being around anyone at all. Now, I hate facing things alone, but that's quite different from wanting to have some alone time for 15 hours a day (or possibly even more). That's why I'm an insomniac - because the world is quiet and I like how no one bothers me at that time.

6.) I have ADD. I can't pay attention to one thing more than the length of one or two songs. If you have a long story to tell me, skip to the chase, because I probably won't hear the end or will ask you to repeat yourself many times. This also comes with referencing something you've said to some other thing I've heard or seen before (particularly That 70's Show or Maximum Ride). And some of those things will probably harbor a quote (from a book, song, movie, whatever). So if you want to tell me a story but hate being interrupted, don't expect me to stay quiet for long.

7.) I am not the happiest person in the world. I am depressing and moody and I like to be sarcastic about everything. I hardly care about whatever you tell me unless it's important or something slightly interesting. If you want to tell me something happy or lighthearted like, "OMG HE ASKED ME OUT!!" depending on my mood and interest level, I will most likely wrench out some dark and twisted truth out of whatever statement comes out of your mouth. If not, it will most likely be the beginning of an argument. So if you want me to be serious about something, then come to me with thought-provoking conversations I would care about or books I have read. Find someone else for your mindless gossip.

Basically, I'm not a good person to talk to.


Frequently Used Words:
Yo
Dude
Seriously
Totally
EPIC!
Alrighty
Man
Whoosh! (yeah, I come with my own sound effects)
Wassup?
Like
I'M HUNGWEE!!!
(and various swears...)

Alright, I'm bored with all of you now. Get the hell out of my face >_>
*HUGS!*

TWGS ♥

Love for Insomnia

July 1, 2010


My mind works mysteriously. It thinks in different ways – whether it be snarky and sarcastic, deep and poetic, inquisitive and wondering, or just plain perverted and wrong (which is pretty often, I must admit). Or it can think in different forms: in pictures, words, past, present, narrating my own story. Whatever way it works, there are always times when I wish that there was some sort of way to record everything that is going on in my mind. It sure would make remembering thing a heck of a lot easier and make life seem so much simpler. But when I’m lying in bed, reading to pass the time until the sun came up, I have this feeling that washes over me like the rinse cycle on the washing machine (speaking of which, my mom’s laundry is done). I get this feeling that is so alive. I feel like I can do anything, set goals and accomplish them. The pathway that I’m currently walking on as I go on in life lets in a shaft of life through the constant gloom and fogginess before me. But it’s just so inconvenient. I only get this feeling at night, when it’s just me awake in my room – the only one still lit up during the early hours of the morning. I’d wait for the sky to transform from a deep black to a light shade of blue. I would open my door and let orange light spill in until golden blocks on my door tell me that the sun rose above the horizon. I’d walk out of my room, and look at the natural beauty beyond my window shine before me with the silence of my house embracing my shoulders. Right about then my mind would make me feel older; a new me around the age of 25 would come out and narrate my thoughts and feeling in a silky and soothing way as if it were reading a poem straight from a storybook. Words of a smarter, more brilliant me would flow through my insides and envelop me in a warming cocoon. If I went downstairs to drink a cup of chocolate milk as I watched the sun continue its ascent, I wouldn’t fall asleep until the first stirrings of someone in my home, when my peace was disturbed. But during those graceful times that I live for, I am not just a typical teenager but someone with confidence and promising. Great lines and phrases run through my mind at these times, but they go on without being recorded. Unspoken. Unwritten. My mind is trapped within me. Or maybe it is I who is trapped within my mind. No one can ever know what is going on in through my head during my most peaceful moments because I could never tell them to anyone who would understand. No one could ever see the world as I see because I simply will not share it with them. I want to show someone what I think and feel without feeling like I’m just a self centered narcissist preaching insane ramblings to a faceless crowd, but I don’t think I can trust anyone to really relate. I think I lost that a long time ago.

I know I talk about my insomnia a lot (perhaps a little too much), but I love it too much. These are the moments I live for. On road trips I’d sleep every time we travel between sites when everyone’s gawking at the places that we drive by, but I’d stay awake for the times we would drive to the actual destination city from our house and stare at the stars outside my window while everyone sleeps beside me. Those are the most exhilarating parts of road trips, believe it or not. I love those moments. The feeling that bubbles up inside me… Oh, if you could feel it. I don’t understand why everyone hates it so much. They act like it’s some vicious plague turning you into vampiric monsters. I mean, during school and work I guess it is understandable, but I would never want to get rid of my insomnia for anything in the entire world. It’s the only time I feel like myself in my whole entirety, not just some cropped up version of me put up for different people to see. I can never be the bubbly and comically witty person and/or hot guy that attract readers to blogs. I can only be that far too dramatic pessimist unsure about life because of her tight grip on reality that I’ve always been (well, since this past year).

So question of the day? Got anything that makes you feel awesome and light hearted all the time? Perhaps it’s a particular moment in time that gives you a lot of energy (like me with my pre-dawn feelings). Or maybe it’s a special someone that I don’t really want to hear about (but if he/she is REALLY the only answer to this question, then fire away without making me gag too much). It could be anything that just makes you feel better (besides chocolate, because everyone usually feels better after eating that).

TWGS ♥

P.S. Sorry for no actual basis to this post or a little graphic I promised every post would have. I wrote this just for the simple pleasure of finally writing things down. I just wrote.
But if you really care about details of my life, I am currently reading four books (Peeps, Wicked, Compound, and Along for the Ride), I woke up at midnight last night and didn't sleep until noon, and I joked about having a first date to my sister when we went to the park yesterday and I talked to Bobby who immediately brought up questions from my sister and her boyfriend after she left. She totally believed the first date thing *shakes head* I also took forever figuring out which books to bring home when I went to the library two days ago (I promised myself to only stick to four) and freaked out when I found out the completely insane plot twist at the end of City of Bones (I don't think I could ever get over that...).
It's sad when the only news in your life is about books.

Almost Pass Out

Ah, summer. The best time to get back in shape and get out and be active, right?
Yeah well, not for out shape fatsos like me.
Just kidding. I'm not that fat or that out of shape and I'm not that insecure. If anything I'm just heavy, that's all.
Anyway, two days ago my sister woke me up in the morning and yelled at me to get jogging. Well I didn't have a shirt. Or shorts. Or shoes. So I had to borrow her clothes. Once I was dressed and whatnot, we headed out (without food).
Unfortunately for me my sister gave me a shirt to wear that was REALLY tight around the chest area. It was seriously hard to breathe in that thing, even if I was standing still. I'm not sure whether or not I should be proud that I'm bigger than my older sister of 8 years in that way or disappointed that I'll never be able to fit in any of her hand me down shirts, but I think it's a pretty big accomplishment to pass your older sister. At that moment, it wasn't that big of a positive. Plus, she also just so happened to choose a pretty hot day to go running, so heat stroke was a definite possibility. But maybe I'm being dramatic.
Anyway, after jogging uphill for only a minute, I was already breathing heavy. It was damn hard to breathe. I might be out of shape, but dude, uphill is difficult for anyone with a tight shirt, not just shapeless blobs like me. Then when we were walking downhill, I was having trouble seeing and walking straight. I had to stop for awhile.
When I got up my sister ran ahead of me and I walked (somewhat) but I had to stop every couple feet. My back was killing me and my eyes were irritated by the amount of light they were taking in (yeah, I'm a retired vampire). I didn't have a phone either so I couldn't call my sister back. I seriously thought I was going to die on the side of the pathway there, but I think I was just over-dramatizing again. Luckily she came back and called my other sister to pick me up near the entrance of the subdivision. She had a glass of water for me to drink and a lecture about getting in shape for me to listen to while we were driving home (good thing I didn't live far).
So, am I really (let's just say) physically challenged? Well, I might be really bad at long distance but back in gym I used to be able to keep up with the faster runners while doing laps. I'd come in the top 25 or something in both classes. I used to be LAST at these things (not counting the fat guy). But I got better and keeping up - especially in short distance (I just don't have enough endurance for long distance).
If I really am as good as I claim, then why the hell was it hard for me to even jog probably less than half a mile? Well I pinpoint three problems.
1. Well, you already know about that tight shirt I was complaining about. I know shirts like that are supposed to support your boobs so they won't go bouncing around, but couldn't they have made custom shirts that fit your cup size? Or maybe it's just my sister's fault for giving me a shirt too small for me and my problem for not being as small as her. I could have just used one of my tops, but she already so nicely gave me one. And you know, starting off uphill will shorten your breath as well, tight shirt or no tight shirt. The top just increased that level of lung effort.
2. Heat. Stroke. When you don't have food or water before you go running in insanely hot weather, you'd definitely overheat. I don't think I need more of an explanation for this.
3. I had. My. PERIOD. Y'know, the little red gift every girl that has gone through puberty gets in their underwear every month? The thing that we dread because it's like our vajayjays are shitting up blood every month with some slight side effects? Yeah, well I didn't know about it at the time and I was cramping up big time. That would explain why my back hurt so much at the time. For you guys out there that might be reading this for no apparent reason and is now looking at the screen uncomfortably, running while having your period is like having your stomach spontaneously combust into a series of little explosions. It is NOT pleasant.

Well there you have it kids. My whole painful story of nearly passing out. Don't know why I wanted to share that with you, but maybe I just wanted to argue my reasons to my sisters without actually arguing with them (if I did, they'd probably just say, "Shut up and just start working out more").
Y'know, I was going to do a review on Toy Story 3, but I didn't want to ruin anything for you kiddos that are still looking forward to seeing it. Plus reviews aren't really my forte - just rants XD. I do have an icon I made for it. ^_^

The Claw!!!

I wish I had better a better font for it, though, but I was making this on my sister's user and all the new fonts are saved on mine. =/ Oh well.

TWGS♥

PS. The picture at the top is a little comic I drew last night on post it notes. If you SQUINT really hard, I'm sure you can make out the words I've written.

Poetry (Again)

Another angsty metaphoric narrative poem, this time inspired by....
Actually I don't remember what I saw that inspired it.
All I know is that I was watching the Pixar shorts at the time.
OH WAIT. Inspired by WALL-E, the scene where Wall-E and Eve were dancing together in space and the captain was reading the definition of dance.
See if you can figure out the metaphor, though it doesn't take a genius to figure it out.


The Show (Dance)

Round and round.
Step after step.
We dance and we dance.
We twirl.
We jump.
We plie.
We dance as
we go.
Making up new moves.
Repeating some old ones.
But we dance
Until our performance comes to an end.

As the world as our stage
We can create more.
Our dances tell our stories.
We can dance alone,
With partners,
Or with a group.
But we are never alone.
Our dances intertwine with others
To create one big show.

My dance is unrehearsed;
I dance as I go.
But lately,
I've been out of step.
My right foot disappeared
And is replaced with a left one.

As I trip out of tune
Out of step
Out of place
I don't notice the other one
Cutting into new dancers
And stopping their performance
Before it barely started.
Four dancers fall
One is left
Limping
And alone.

But did they matter?
They weren't even real performers.
But they were a part of my performance.
I'm left four dancers short
When two different ones were already dancing away from me.

Another dancer cuts in
Trying to put the interferer back in place
When the crew comes in
They take the dancer away
But the interferer is left
Dancing more merrily
Now that one of the big leads is separated from us
He thinks that the crew will save him
But who was to save the four dancers
From the interferer?
I was supposed to
But I tripped too much to see them.

Our performance is stopped momentarily
Waiting for technical difficulties to be fixed
Waiting for recasting calls
But in our dance
No one can be replaced
There are no understudies
Only the main performers
And one was dragged away
When he was already trying to get back in step
One is placed under care
When he didn't need it
He was just creating more drama
That wasn't part of the performance
The rest of us are left standing on the stage
Waiting for our curtains to rise again.

But that's dance.


Comments and constructive criticism much appreciated ^_^

TWGS ♥

EDIT :: At the top, you see that I've added a graphic I made of ballerina dancers. I've decided to put some interest in my plain black blog and add a new graphic that incorporates with the main idea of the post. Unfortunately this one was cropped a little too small ^^; heh, oh well.

Poetry

A poem I wrote a few nights ago. See if you can figure it out.

The Ball

I am still the little kid
Playing ball in the yard.
And when it falls to the street
I chase after it.
I shouldn't have
And I knew that.

The closer I got
The closer a truck came
The closer it got to hitting me.
The more I wanted my ball
The harder I was hit.
I fell at my own expense
When the ball betrayed me
And fell to the street.
The difference is
Someone picked it up
And took it away from me.
Maybe it was never mine to have

Did I ever stop playing with it?
Almost three years ago
I found it
And made my mark on it.
It fell to the street many times.
But I've always left unscathed.
Others didn't fare as easily.

It found its way back to me.
This time
I realized how much I missed it.
It was mine
And I never wanted it to leave.
When it fell to the streets this time
I was left hospitalized.
My heart was found on the road
Shattered.


Surprisingly, this poem was inspired when on the last day of school, I saw Lizzie playing with a volleyball and when she dropped it she almost got hit by a basketball. I get ideas by the craziest of things.


And another poem I wrote months ago, but is my favorite of all the ones I wrote during my poetry craze.

Time Limits

Time
60 seconds
60 minutes
24 hours
7 days
1 year

Never ending
No beginning
No end
Just there.
So why does it feel like
It's running out?

Days go by
Months
Years
Time slipping away.
Unnoticed
Until needed.

Time constricting us
Measuring how long
How long can we relax?
How long can we rest?
How long can I do the things I love?
How long
do we
Have?

The seconds tick away
Counting off the time
Minute hands our guards
Hour hands the cell
Trapped in time.
That's how we are.
Trapped
Limited

I don't want time
Limiting my life.


Comments are greatly appreciated (seeing as how I don't get them anymore...)

TWGS ♥

Media Rant!

Since I don't really have anything to post about today, I'm posting the blog post my sister asked me to write that started this whole shebang. ^_^

Just a note: My sister's name is pronounced like Jenny. She's a college sophomore with a bunch of friends that aren't all that smart, hence me insulting their intelligence :P


Here’s the deal.

My sister wanted me to post something on her blog for her because she couldn’t think of anything and said I was a good writer. So it’s not Genie writing this right now. It’s her 13 year old sister, Gemmie.
So I’m wasting the precious minutes I have before midnight to work on the project for geometry I’ve procrastinated on all weekend. If only I didn’t love writing. Oh well, I’m not going to geometry tomorrow anyway.

Genie pretty much limited my possible topics of this to something not “nerdy” since I’m pretty much the biggest nerd in the whole family. So there go my ideas to write something about Harry Potter, Fall Out Boy, or how evil it is for James Patterson to allow the “wonderful” director of the Twilight movies, Catherine Hardwicke, to even THINK about having KStew and RPattz play the roles of Max and Fang in the movie version of Maximum Ride when they so OBVIOUSLY cannot act!
Just kidding. You college kids wouldn’t want to read anything about that anyway unless you were as “cool” as I was. It’s a darn shame.
So instead of ranting about Twilight and their evil doings to ruin good books/movies (since I’m pretty sure 90% of you would maul me for that), let’s talk about something you wouldn’t expect a 13 year old to talk about.

Media.
It’s the most horrible monstrosity known to man.
I’m pretty sure most of you would maul me for this too since I know a lot of you listen to Lady Gaga and all those mainstream artists and are pretty much the biggest influence in the public, but it is an issue that must be addressed. Anyone who agrees can give yourself major EPIC!ness points.
First of all, let’s talk mainstream people. I seriously can’t find any talent WHATSOEVER in the media. My knowledge of people who are mainstream right now are only limited to Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, and Lady Gaga. Why? I pretty much gave up on the radio after my transition out of loving Disney people (mainly the Jonas Brothers). My sisters would say, “Oh the things you listen to are so EMO!” but they’re really not. They have real talent and because of that, media doesn’t want to publicize them.
But back to the main idea here. Every time I’m in the car with my sisters and they turn on the radio, all I hear are these (c)rap songs about sex and drugs and hanging out with some gang or crew or whatever you call it. Only Fall Out Boy can make songs about sex and drugs sound awesome so don’t even try (yeah…I pretty much crossed that one condition…but I’m done mentioning them now). See, they actually TRY to make their lyrics sound poetic and meaningful (I swear I’m done after that bit), but every mainstream artist straight up talks about getting laid and drinking at the club. Two words for you: WHO CARES? That’s not music! Music is supposed to be a creative outlet in which you can talk about whatever is on your mind at the moment. If the only thing I hear on the radio is about knocking someone up or getting hung over at the club every night, then America’s got some SERIOUS problems.
And if you’re going to come running to me telling me a song that is played on the radio that isn’t about sex or drugs, it still sounds like crap. There’s a reason why the word “rap” is in “crap,” people!

There’s another thing about music: It has to come from the soul. The bust musicians ever had to go through the pain and agony of writing something deep and beautiful by banging away on piano or wailing away on guitar. That can’t come from some canned tunes and mixes ready for you to play around with in the studio! Real music is something played, not something mixed. It’s synthetic and pathetic. I’d go and post my free form poem about this that uses those lines, but I’m wasting time here.
Basically, the music you hear on the radio isn’t music. It’s something the PUBLIC wants, and the public is more fickle and shallow than a one inch deep stream or some high school queen bee that bitches at her supposed “friends.” The public will easily drop someone either with or without talent once someone new and fresh comes along.

You all are probably going to think I’m a total ass for saying all this when I listen to Fall Out Boy and Cobra Starship, but at least they have more talent than someone like Justin Bieber who’s just a skinny white boy gangster wannabe who says “Shawty” too much and sounds like he’s a 12 year old girl singing about other girls.

I am now waiting for the village mob, but that’s what comes from blogging.

So this is going to be my last point (even though I really only have one point) because I’ve already spent more than half an hour on this when Genie’s probably going to delete this anyway. I could go on about the no talent hags media promotes (*cough*RobertPattinsonandKristenStewart*cough*), how the paparazzi seriously needs to get a clue about privacy, how movie directors are just looking for fame and not a piece of art, but I don’t have time for that and I’m already almost done with two pages on Word. Just remember if you ever want to have a stimulating conversation about this, always come to me (which would be odd, since all of you are over 18 and more than five years older than me…). Trust me, I also have more ranting issues than just this one (war, how corrupt America is, etc.).

So that brings me to my second and final point.

The media BADLY influences children.
How many times have I seen little kids becoming brattier, more perverted, and all out sluttier?
A LOT my friends, A LOT.
Let’s see, I’d like to start with Miley Cyrus. She’s beautiful, she’s funny, she has her own TV show… and an all out slut. I mean, YEARS of being signed with Disney has built up a pretty large fan base comprised of little girls and next thing we know she’s dancing on top of cars wearing the shortest shorts known to man and a stripper top in her music video, “Party in the USA.” Little girls IDOLIZE her and she’s out there shaking her ass at them! What do you think those little girls are going to do? Yes my friends, they’re going to copy her.
Have any of you seen The Mean Girls? Remember the popular chick (whose name escapes me at the moment…) who has the huge house and the little sister? Yeah well in one scene you can see her little sister watching something on TV where the people were FLASHING the cameraman. You know what she did? SHE COPIED THEM.
I just feel sorry for the parents. One day you think you have the perfect little child cradled in your hands and the next you find out that they’ve been drinking booze at parties and banging anyone they can find. It might not be directly because of media, but it all leads to that somehow.
You’re probably thinking, “Yeah? Well, your kids are going to wind up cutting themselves and attempting suicide!” Wrong! My kids will be raised to be literate and love REAL music, thank you very much.

Other than media corrupting the younger generations, who will someday lead the country, I must remind you, it pressures them into these absurd thoughts!
For example, WEIGHT.
A healthy woman is supposed to be around 120-140 pounds. The models and actresses you see on TV are around 100. Girls see these women and think, “Gosh, why can’t I be as skinny and pretty as them?” when the truth is that they are REALLY unhealthy. Sure, I’m unhealthy too but that’s of my own laziness. At least I don’t go around obsessing over my weight (which I am wonderfully in the middle of healthy) and resort to not eating or throwing up my food just to fit into size 0 jeans.
If you girls (whether you are in middle school, high school, college, or already in your 30s) think that you have to be skinny to be beautiful, think again. Most people can’t even achieve that type of “beauty.” Being skinny won’t make you rich and famous. It’ll actually make you look almost dead and will probably lead to depression. I promise you that.
If you still have a problem with seeing what I mean, I suggest watching the movie, Lying to be Perfect. It’s inspiring, eye opening, and really empowers you into thinking that you are beautiful.
That goes for guys too. You don’t have to be buff and muscle-y to get a girl to like you. In the end none of that matters in true love. The girl for you will be like a girl version of you, since you’ll have all the same interests and all the same likes/dislikes.

So that pretty much concludes my rant. Trust me, I can go ON AND ON AND ON, but I’ve already spent more than an hour on this and used three pages in Word already. Oh the things I do for blogging.

If you completely agree with this, then congratulations because you gave me more hope in the world.
If you think I’m a complete hypocrite and shouldn’t be thinking these things, then I encourage that. Good blogging comes with haters and people who disagree with you.
If you have nothing to say about this, then you just lessened my hope in people. Stop being ignorant and face the facts. This is what’s happening.

And if you were wondering, yes Genie’s little 13 year old sister DOES think like this and I HAVE talked about this on many occasions. I’m not the only one.

Blog Attempt #???

Ah yes, I am back to blogging. Countless times I have tried this and yet the longest I have kept one was probably 6 or 7 months.
So why am I trying this again?
The basic story has to do with my sister getting a tumblr and that reminded me of the fun I used to have when I blogged.
A moderate story has to do with me screwing up the posts in my Chamber of Secrets on the all too addicting Harry Potter forum, MNI (yes I'm one of THOSE people). Although, I wouldn't really call it screwing it up since that's what the CoS is for, but who would want to screw the delicate balance of the ultimate chat thread? People just come for the fun chats, not to read some humongo rant/overview of the day.
Which basically brings me to the more complicated story. See, two nights ago when I was supposed to be working on this geometry project that I had four days to work on, my sister asked me to write a blog post for her blog since she couldn't think of anything to write.
Well that blog turned out to become a full out rant on media.
Three pages on Word, 1,685 words, more than one hour workd on, and only three points covered.
So here I am with an amazing rant that I could have gone on with and I am left alone with it because my sister doesn't want to post it. LAME!
Well after posting that in my CoS I kept posting this huge ranty rants in pretty much every other post. Two days later I decide that I should just get a blog instead.

So now here I am.

When I find the energy to go back to copy and paste my rant, edit a few things around, I'll post it here since it was the big reason why I am now blogging again.
Then maybe if I keep this for a while and play around with it, I'll add some cool shtufflings to keep you entertained.