The library at my university (which I am in a love-hate relationship with: I love to read [duh], it's a huge library, but doing homework here is terrible) is hosting a banned books week event, also covering music and film.
The reason I have such a love for reading is based on a few things:
1.) It broadens the mind. Reading a book could change someone's entire outlook on something, it can make them more accepting of others, give them new ideas, etc.
2.) It's an escape. When life is getting me down, I like to sit down with a good fantasy book because a.) I realize I'm not being hunted by the most terrifying Dark wizard of all time or trying going on a terribly horrendous journey to destroy something that will give power to someone who wants to ruin the world I live in and b.) I could have it worse and if Harry and Frodo can deal with their problems, well so can I.
3.) It expands your vocabulary. Learning new words is something I love.
So, I was looking over the banned books list we have here in the library and I saw a goof PILE of books I had read. Thank you, Mum, for not being that crazy, close-minded, overly bearing, psycho-mama who demands a book be removed from a library because it has a sexual reference a fourth grader is NOT going to understand or says "damn" twice and for letting me read almost anything I wanted.
Srsly. Only time I wasn't allowed to read something was like, a graphic romance novel when I was twelve, but then I read it when I was about 15.
Anyway, like I mentioned in my first BBW post, I've read a goof portion of banned books.
Obviously all the Harry Potter books. Goosebumps-I was scared by those ONCE, ever, and I was seven aka NOT the target audience. The Color Purple-i KNOW why that was banned. Julie of the Wolves-another WHAT?!! to me. Firstly, I love this book. I've loved it since the second grade. It was published in 1972 and has been challenged in THIS century, where we are branching out and becoming more accepting. I don't get that. The challengers claim the book should be banned because of a supposed "rape" scene. What actually happens is Julie aka Miyax, had an arranged marriage with a boy who was mentally challenged. The boy was being teased for not "mating with his wife". So he catches her alone once (she was usually working with/for his mother) and kisses her. Srsly. The other reason is the issue of divorce. Because Miyax walked out on the boy she is essentially divorced. First of all, THEY ARE THIRTEEN. No challenges made to that. Because it happened in biblical times it's okay, right? *facepalm* It's okay for her to be married at thirteen, just not for her to walk out on a toxic life (her mother-in-law was abusive and husband potentially dangerous)?
Sometimes I don't understand people. Or human nature for that matter.
Anyway, I checked out the book again to see if I could try to understand WHY. I got a few pages in and remembered some of the key points.
Now that I'm done ranting, I'll explain why I didn't post yesterday and why there are two posts for today.
I need to go back a few years. Two, to be almost exact.
I was a Junior is high school, livin' it up, playing volleyball, everything was great.
I stayed at TE's house one night. It was a Thursday night. I remember that.
You'd be surprised how much sticks in your head sometimes, even at the weirdest times.
I get a phone call close to eight in the morning. It's Mum and I can tell from her tone that somethings up. She told me to get home and I might want to bring TE with me, she didn't want to go if we were getting in trouble.
So i run home (which is seriously half a block from TE's place) and Mum meets me on the lawn. She's holding both phones and I can see she's been trying not to cry. Very calmly, she tells me there's been a wreck. First things that run through my mind are SD, Bandito, someone really close. Then she tells me it was Holly and she had her baby cousin in the car. Holly was thrown from the vehicle, but the baby was thankfully strapped in.
Holly was one of the girls on the volleyball team and a year above me in school. I'd known her since we moved there-she was an active person, her parents own the grocery store there, everybody knew her. We weren't particularly close, but we were friends I'd say. R would always flirt with her when we went into the store.
When the Durango flipped, whoever stopped to help went to her and she told them to get the baby first. Holly loved kids and wanted to be a teacher. She always had a baby cousin or her niece or a friend's child hanging around her. When they got back to her she was gone.
I just sat in the grass and cried. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I couldn't imagine things without the vibrance that was Miss Holly. When I finally got inside, I called TE. She couldn't say anything either. Then the texts come in, and phone won't stop ringing and everything is chaos.
You have to understand that Ags is a very small town. It's so close knit and together. Everyone seriously does know everybody. It shook the whole town.
It was kind of traumatizing to some of us. To realize that things could end in an instant, just like that.
The baby was alright, other that two broken legs. She's going on four now and is a bright, wonderful little thing.
Exactly a year later, about a mile down the highway, Calvin's cousin Jon passed the same way. I didn't know him very well, but it was still terrifying.
So, the date is coming up again and I'm getting paranoid.
For one, TE has a habit of driving a little crazy. You can reprimand her all you like, that's how she rebels.
So, basically, I'm terrified.
Yesterday, she calls me during her break at work. She's in the car and has it on speaker. Talk for not thirty seconds when I hear 'OH SHIT!" a weird noise and nothing.
I'm yelling into the phone at this point, having a heart attack in the computer lab.
Then I heard the door ajar alarm and calmed down by a tiny fraction.
My heart rate starts to return to normal when she picks up the phone and says, "F*&k dude, I just got in an accident. I'll call you back." I yell at her to see if she's okay but she had hung up.
Knowing she won't answer if I call her back, I go through the rest of the day a tad on edge (more like brink of insanity). Then she called me last night and I stopped having fits.
She was perfectly fine other than shaken up and pissed off.
But it still scared me worse than I had ever been scared before because she is my sister and just the thought of her being gone terrifies me.
I should mention that I love Calvin to pieces. I called him after she went to bed and he listened and comforted me and made me feel better. But sometimes, after all that being pent up, you need a good cry, so I did and I felt a bit better.
TE called in the middle of me writing my post yesterday so I got distracted and didn't finish it.
Anyway, needed that off my chest.
Tata!
P7
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
"You don't need a spleen when you have Hart"
Alright, this might seem redundant, but I felt like writing about this.
So, for the first about 13 or 14 years of my life, I hadn't really met much of my extended family.
I'm sure (if you've read anything previous) that you can tell I have a strong sense of family. I love having people that care about me and that i care for and that I can share anything with.
Anyway, Mum and I had been kinda close with her side of the family-I spent a few spring breaks up at Gramma and Grampa's place and Uncle Jason was really the only uncle I knew. When we lived in California, Granma Debbie (or Gran), Aunt Sarah, and Lil Sarah (who everybody called Micheal) were out there with us for awhile.
But then Bandito starting getting in touch with his brothers and sisters more. He and Sarah had always been close because they are two years apart. So I started sorta talking them too. My intro was something like this: "Hi! I'm Aimee, Rusty's daughter. He told me you were his sibling and I really wanted to meet you!"
Sounds kinda creeper-ish to me.
Side-note: Everybody called Bandito Rusty as a kid 'cause he had red hair and 'cause it went with his middle name.
Anyway, the summer Mr. Motion-Sick aka S first rode a roller coaster, Bandito's crew was all going up to Branson (Rebecca's grandparents keep two trailers up there). So since a.) Bandito hadn't seen Uncle Justin in awhile, b.) the kiddorks had never met that side of the family, and c.) Gran was living in OK at the time, we went through Oklahoma. That's when I first met my Great-Aunt Gerry and Great Uncle, who have this amazingly beautiful ranch. Then we headed up to Uncle Justin's place (who also has a very beautiful piece of land) and I met two of my cousins.
Couple years later, Bandito tells me, "So I was talking to your Aunt Stephanie the other day...."
BACK UP.
So, I knew Bandito was the youngest of Gran's kids but that Papa had a younger son. I'd only ever seen pictures of Jeremy (actually James-there are at least 3 men in my family named James) and it was from he was about 13 and I was maybe seven and it was an old picture. Anyway, I asked about this mysterious Stephanie and Bandito said "What're you on about? I've talked about Stephanie and Michelle before! They're my dad's kids (I've not once heard Bandito call Papa "your grandfather" to me. It's always "my dad".), he adopted 'em."
WHOA!
So after my shock of discovering I have way more family than I thought, Aunt Sarah gets it in her head to have big family things for holidays. Which I am FANTASTICALLY Ok with.
Last Thanksgiving, we had a HUGE shindig because Aunt Sarah, Uncle Matt, Lil Sarah and Cullin were all moving to Holland for a year and then Oregon after that. So, Gran, most of Sarah's crew, including Sarah, Matt, Seth, Cullin, Micheal, and Grady, Bandito's crew, incompassing Bandito, Rebecca, ART, ARC, S, and myself, and Uncle Jeremy and the Twins, Dash and Chance, all spent most of the holiday together. This was also the first time S and I met Papa. Aunt Steffy's birthday was also being held that week and she had invited Bandito's crew, so yeah we went. I met Steffy and my first thought was "Wait, she's adopted? You're sure she's not blood-related to me?" Steffy's a little odd-ball and random as all. I love her to pieces. I also met Uncle Josh and Aunt Michelle finally and they're FANTASTIC. Michelle's daughter is the same age as me (there's three of us that graduated this past year-Caitlin, Taylor, and I) and her son is around a year old.
So, there I was, with all this family and SUPER DOOPER EXCITED about it. It just gives me an awesome feeling when I look in my phone and see Aunt Steffy's number or get on Facebook and see Aunt Sarah post something about familia.
Anyway, I'm off to History! yay!
tata!
P7
It just makes me feel good when
So, for the first about 13 or 14 years of my life, I hadn't really met much of my extended family.
I'm sure (if you've read anything previous) that you can tell I have a strong sense of family. I love having people that care about me and that i care for and that I can share anything with.
Anyway, Mum and I had been kinda close with her side of the family-I spent a few spring breaks up at Gramma and Grampa's place and Uncle Jason was really the only uncle I knew. When we lived in California, Granma Debbie (or Gran), Aunt Sarah, and Lil Sarah (who everybody called Micheal) were out there with us for awhile.
But then Bandito starting getting in touch with his brothers and sisters more. He and Sarah had always been close because they are two years apart. So I started sorta talking them too. My intro was something like this: "Hi! I'm Aimee, Rusty's daughter. He told me you were his sibling and I really wanted to meet you!"
Sounds kinda creeper-ish to me.
Side-note: Everybody called Bandito Rusty as a kid 'cause he had red hair and 'cause it went with his middle name.
Anyway, the summer Mr. Motion-Sick aka S first rode a roller coaster, Bandito's crew was all going up to Branson (Rebecca's grandparents keep two trailers up there). So since a.) Bandito hadn't seen Uncle Justin in awhile, b.) the kiddorks had never met that side of the family, and c.) Gran was living in OK at the time, we went through Oklahoma. That's when I first met my Great-Aunt Gerry and Great Uncle, who have this amazingly beautiful ranch. Then we headed up to Uncle Justin's place (who also has a very beautiful piece of land) and I met two of my cousins.
Couple years later, Bandito tells me, "So I was talking to your Aunt Stephanie the other day...."
BACK UP.
So, I knew Bandito was the youngest of Gran's kids but that Papa had a younger son. I'd only ever seen pictures of Jeremy (actually James-there are at least 3 men in my family named James) and it was from he was about 13 and I was maybe seven and it was an old picture. Anyway, I asked about this mysterious Stephanie and Bandito said "What're you on about? I've talked about Stephanie and Michelle before! They're my dad's kids (I've not once heard Bandito call Papa "your grandfather" to me. It's always "my dad".), he adopted 'em."
WHOA!
So after my shock of discovering I have way more family than I thought, Aunt Sarah gets it in her head to have big family things for holidays. Which I am FANTASTICALLY Ok with.
Last Thanksgiving, we had a HUGE shindig because Aunt Sarah, Uncle Matt, Lil Sarah and Cullin were all moving to Holland for a year and then Oregon after that. So, Gran, most of Sarah's crew, including Sarah, Matt, Seth, Cullin, Micheal, and Grady, Bandito's crew, incompassing Bandito, Rebecca, ART, ARC, S, and myself, and Uncle Jeremy and the Twins, Dash and Chance, all spent most of the holiday together. This was also the first time S and I met Papa. Aunt Steffy's birthday was also being held that week and she had invited Bandito's crew, so yeah we went. I met Steffy and my first thought was "Wait, she's adopted? You're sure she's not blood-related to me?" Steffy's a little odd-ball and random as all. I love her to pieces. I also met Uncle Josh and Aunt Michelle finally and they're FANTASTIC. Michelle's daughter is the same age as me (there's three of us that graduated this past year-Caitlin, Taylor, and I) and her son is around a year old.
So, there I was, with all this family and SUPER DOOPER EXCITED about it. It just gives me an awesome feeling when I look in my phone and see Aunt Steffy's number or get on Facebook and see Aunt Sarah post something about familia.
Anyway, I'm off to History! yay!
tata!
P7
It just makes me feel good when
Monday, September 27, 2010
It's banned books week!!
HOORAY!!
I like reading banned books, simply because I want to see what made someone petition against this book, WHY they think it's so horrible.
Here's a list I found:
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden
As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
Blubber by Judy Blume This I don't get. It's Judy Blume people!!!
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Canterbury Tales by Chaucer
Carrie by Stephen King This I get. Kind of. It's Stephen King-it's a HORROR. Srsly!!
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
Christine by Stephen King
Confessions by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Cujo by Stephen King
Curses, Hexes, and Spells by Daniel Cohen This I get too. Look at the title! Banned for the contents.
Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
Decameron by Boccaccio
East of Eden by John Steinbeck This I kind of get. It IS Steinbeck, and in his era his writing was extreme.
Fallen Angels by Walter Myers
Fanny Hill (Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure) by John Cleland
Flowers For Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Forever by Judy Blume Again, Judy Blume! I guess she kinda has The Steinbeck Problem.
Grendel by John Champlin Gardner
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling These I TOTALLY get. Late nineties to early Y2K's it was banned because"You simply have no imagination Mr. Harris" it was a fantasy book, which had taken over for being most challenged in the 90s from works considered "explicit and harsh" like Blume's work.
Have to Go by Robert Munsch
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain Twain was often banned because of the language he used.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
Impressions edited by Jack Booth
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
It's Okay if You Don't Love Me by Norma Klein
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl Dahl was banned quite often as well, because his stories were too "fantastic" and the contents considered "evil"
Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence
Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
Little Red Riding Hood by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm WHAT?!?!
Lord of the Flies by William Golding So, Golding I get, especially this one, because it showed truthful human behavior and no one wanted to hear of it. But really!
Love is One of the Choices by Norma Klein
Lysistrata by Aristophanes
More Scary Stories in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz Schwartz is not even remotely terrifying. We read that crap in fourth grade and laughed at it. I mean, c'mon.
My Brother Sam Is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
My House by Nikki Giovanni
My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara
Night Chills by Dean Koontz
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck Again, it's Steinbeck
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
One Day in The Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn
One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
Our Bodies, Ourselves by Boston Women's Health Collective
Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy
Revolting Rhymes by Roald Dahl
Scary Stories 3: More Tales to Chill Your Bones by Alvin Schwartz .........
Scary Stories in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz ................................................
Separate Peace by John Knowles
Silas Marner by George Eliot
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
The Bastard by John Jakes
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier I actually don't know why this is banned. It was an awful book, I thought. Like flour and water bread-tasteless and all it does is fill you up. In this case with mush.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker Ha. I read this when I was about 14 I think. I was like O.O most of the time. But it's banning I understand because of language and sexual content, to name a few.
The Devil's Alternative by Frederick Forsyth
The Figure in the Shadows by John Bellairs
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Snyder
The Learning Tree by Gordon Parks
The Living Bible by William C. Bower
The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare
The New Teenage Body Book by Kathy McCoy and Charles Wibbelsman
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
The Seduction of Peter S. by Lawrence Sanders
The Shining by Stephen King
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The Witches of Worm by Zilpha Snyder
Then Again, Maybe I Won't by Judy Blume
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee Huh? Had to look this up. At the time of it's publication (ish) TKaM was banned for it's harsh language.
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary by the Merriam-Webster Editorial Staff
Witches, Pumpkins, and Grinning Ghosts: The Story of the Halloween Symbols by Edna Barth
I can think of a few more that were banned or at least challenged or I'm sure would have been if they had made an HP sweep of popularity. For one, Alice in Wonderland was banned because for one, animals were talking, for two it was ludicrous. So, The Looking Glass Wars trilogy should have been, too right? Wrong. TLGW has never been banned or even challenged to my knowledge. It's also a fantastic series by Frank Beddor. I like them a LOT. I don't see how Twifaillight hasn't had more bans other than a few school districts. Surprisingly, even though the first novel was published in '91, Diana Gabaldon (you can read her blog here ) has never been banned that I can find.
I would probably have fits of hysteria (like I'm about to after finding DG's blog and reading a post that made me want to cry) if anything I wrote were banned. And then I would throw a party.
I like reading banned books, simply because I want to see what made someone petition against this book, WHY they think it's so horrible.
Here's a list I found:
Books Banned at One Time or Another in the United States
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony BurgessA Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden
As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
Blubber by Judy Blume This I don't get. It's Judy Blume people!!!
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Canterbury Tales by Chaucer
Carrie by Stephen King This I get. Kind of. It's Stephen King-it's a HORROR. Srsly!!
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
Christine by Stephen King
Confessions by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Cujo by Stephen King
Curses, Hexes, and Spells by Daniel Cohen This I get too. Look at the title! Banned for the contents.
Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
Decameron by Boccaccio
East of Eden by John Steinbeck This I kind of get. It IS Steinbeck, and in his era his writing was extreme.
Fallen Angels by Walter Myers
Fanny Hill (Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure) by John Cleland
Flowers For Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Forever by Judy Blume Again, Judy Blume! I guess she kinda has The Steinbeck Problem.
Grendel by John Champlin Gardner
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling These I TOTALLY get. Late nineties to early Y2K's it was banned because
Have to Go by Robert Munsch
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain Twain was often banned because of the language he used.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
Impressions edited by Jack Booth
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
It's Okay if You Don't Love Me by Norma Klein
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl Dahl was banned quite often as well, because his stories were too "fantastic" and the contents considered "evil"
Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence
Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
Little Red Riding Hood by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm WHAT?!?!
Lord of the Flies by William Golding So, Golding I get, especially this one, because it showed truthful human behavior and no one wanted to hear of it. But really!
Love is One of the Choices by Norma Klein
Lysistrata by Aristophanes
More Scary Stories in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz Schwartz is not even remotely terrifying. We read that crap in fourth grade and laughed at it. I mean, c'mon.
My Brother Sam Is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
My House by Nikki Giovanni
My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara
Night Chills by Dean Koontz
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck Again, it's Steinbeck
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
One Day in The Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn
One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
Our Bodies, Ourselves by Boston Women's Health Collective
Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy
Revolting Rhymes by Roald Dahl
Scary Stories 3: More Tales to Chill Your Bones by Alvin Schwartz .........
Scary Stories in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz ................................................
Separate Peace by John Knowles
Silas Marner by George Eliot
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
The Bastard by John Jakes
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier I actually don't know why this is banned. It was an awful book, I thought. Like flour and water bread-tasteless and all it does is fill you up. In this case with mush.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker Ha. I read this when I was about 14 I think. I was like O.O most of the time. But it's banning I understand because of language and sexual content, to name a few.
The Devil's Alternative by Frederick Forsyth
The Figure in the Shadows by John Bellairs
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Snyder
The Learning Tree by Gordon Parks
The Living Bible by William C. Bower
The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare
The New Teenage Body Book by Kathy McCoy and Charles Wibbelsman
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
The Seduction of Peter S. by Lawrence Sanders
The Shining by Stephen King
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The Witches of Worm by Zilpha Snyder
Then Again, Maybe I Won't by Judy Blume
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee Huh? Had to look this up. At the time of it's publication (ish) TKaM was banned for it's harsh language.
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary by the Merriam-Webster Editorial Staff
Witches, Pumpkins, and Grinning Ghosts: The Story of the Halloween Symbols by Edna Barth
I can think of a few more that were banned or at least challenged or I'm sure would have been if they had made an HP sweep of popularity. For one, Alice in Wonderland was banned because for one, animals were talking, for two it was ludicrous. So, The Looking Glass Wars trilogy should have been, too right? Wrong. TLGW has never been banned or even challenged to my knowledge. It's also a fantastic series by Frank Beddor. I like them a LOT. I don't see how Twi
I would probably have fits of hysteria (like I'm about to after finding DG's blog and reading a post that made me want to cry) if anything I wrote were banned. And then I would throw a party.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
<--- That?
First off, let me say, I'm thinking of changing the name of my blog. The current one was spur of the moment and I've been thinking and I just don't feel like it works. I'm totally open to suggestions! Second, if you have suggestions about anything you'd like to see me rant and rave about talk about, just lemme know. Again, open for anything! Third, SORRY for not posting yesterday Mimi who has had a blog for two weeks and posted twice EVAR .
Also, as a pre-warning, I'm doing something I usually don't. So, next line is like WHOA to some.
So, today I went to church.
I haven't gone in awhile. TBH I haven't been to a service since camp.
Yeah, I know, shame, shame.
Thing is, I wasn't raised going to church. Only time I ever went as a kid was with babysitters. It just wasn't something we did.
Let me rewind.
Over the past few years, with my whole being a better person and helping others thing, I've decided I could do that better with God in my life. So, I've really been trying to get on the train. I'd been doing...well, not really good TBH.
I guess He knows what I need to do that. My TOTALLY AWESOME RA, Kait, invited me to Bible Talk one day. So, of course I went.
And I loved it.
I loved the atmosphere, the people. I loved the great discussions we got into about whatever passage we were talking about.
I wanna say it really opened my eyes.
But like I said, He knows what I need to help Him, so He put these people in my life and I'm thankful for it.
I went with the BT group to church today. It was fantastic and amazing. I just...IDK. I felt amazing. Like, THAT was where I needed to be, THAT was going to help be who I wanted to become, who I feel I need to be.
SO! I'm feeling more fantastic than I have in awhile. I suppose I feel more...complete is the word that comes to mind.
So, yeah. There's my abnormal post for the week!
Also, as a pre-warning, I'm doing something I usually don't. So, next line is like WHOA to some.
So, today I went to church.
I haven't gone in awhile. TBH I haven't been to a service since camp.
Yeah, I know, shame, shame.
Thing is, I wasn't raised going to church. Only time I ever went as a kid was with babysitters. It just wasn't something we did.
Let me rewind.
Over the past few years, with my whole being a better person and helping others thing, I've decided I could do that better with God in my life. So, I've really been trying to get on the train. I'd been doing...well, not really good TBH.
I guess He knows what I need to do that. My TOTALLY AWESOME RA, Kait, invited me to Bible Talk one day. So, of course I went.
And I loved it.
I loved the atmosphere, the people. I loved the great discussions we got into about whatever passage we were talking about.
I wanna say it really opened my eyes.
But like I said, He knows what I need to help Him, so He put these people in my life and I'm thankful for it.
I went with the BT group to church today. It was fantastic and amazing. I just...IDK. I felt amazing. Like, THAT was where I needed to be, THAT was going to help be who I wanted to become, who I feel I need to be.
SO! I'm feeling more fantastic than I have in awhile. I suppose I feel more...complete is the word that comes to mind.
So, yeah. There's my abnormal post for the week!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Reasons!
I need new specs.
As is spectacles.
As in glasses.
As in I can't afford contacts and am weirdly blind.
Truth is, I've had this pair for two years now and they've held up SO WELL comparatively. I mean, the left lens IS super-glued in BUT it's okay because I can't really see from that side anyway.
Hold up, rewind.
So, mid-nineties, Mum and Bandito notice I have eye problems. I had a hard time seeing spaces in words when trying to read and I couldn't distinguish smaller shapes unless I touched them. For instance, I couldn't see individual leaves on trees. Yeah. But we couldn't afford to get my eyes checked or get me glasses until Bandito joined the Navy and WOOHOO dependent coverage!!
First, I should say, my eyes looked like this most of the time:
We go to my first eye appointment and the doctor pretty much says, "OMFGWTFBBQsauce! her eyes are TERRIBLE! She has a lazy-eye and it could be degenerative. We can do this this and this to help."
Soooo first pair of glass which I managed to keep until about third grade. MASSIVELY corrective.
They were aboooout ____________________ < this thick.
The first day I wore them, I tried to balance on a curb because I could actually SEE that it was above actual ground. THAT didn't work so well. I also was totally fascinated because I asked Bandito what was wrong with the trees-they looked funny, like they had some kind of abnormal growth that made what I usually saw (green lumps with some brown sticks connecting them to trees) look REALLY weird and he told me there was nothing wrong, I could just actually see the leaves now.
For instance:
Fantastic!!
So, here comes kindergarten at a new school and I am Coke-Bottle Girl!!
It gets better.
To strengthen my lazy-eye and make it work, they decide to put me in an eye patch.
Yeah. I've mentioned I was clumsy right? Well, I was jumpy, too. Since I could never see something coming up on my left, I got in the habit of keeping my held turned slightly to the left when I was older (I still kind of do). Well, with being a pirate and all my patch, I couldn't see CRAP.
And the kids always wanted to play Pirates. Guess who got to be the bad guy all the time?
I HATED being the bad guy. I just wanted to play Power Rangers. "But you can't have a BLIND power ranger!!"
I pushed a kid down the slide for that one.
So anyway, here I am, lazy-eyed, patch-covered, Coke Bottle Girl.
Gooooooood times. NOT.
So yeah, I went through a LOT of glass from about 8 until I was fifteen. In kinder, I made my 5s like Js because I couldn't differentiate between a cross bar, part of a line, and a big belly and a cross bar a straight line and a fish hook.
I didn't wear an eye-patch again until fourth grade. I was also legally blind. Let me tell you that SUCKED.
Anyway, I spend years in corrective lenses. I go in for my check up at about 16 and they're like "OMFGWTFBBQsauce! (I like that saying) You're 20/20 in your right eye and 20/45 in your left!"
WOW.
That was also part of why I don't have my driver's license yet. The running joke at the fire department is just to attach an extra rearview mirror to my glasses.
So yeah. If we look at my injury history, most of my injuries are on my left side, because I couldn't a.) see something coming towards me b.) tell the distance between me and something I was about to hit c.) ask someone to cover my left side d.) be distracted from what was going on on my right side or e.) sacrifice my much better right side.
Now, my left eye doesn't drift as much. If I'm really concentrating or tired or spacing out, it will. Or if I'm not paying attention and I happen to notice I'm seeing more of the stuff on my left than in left-front of me.
Alright, I don't actually NEED new specs, but it wouldn't hurt.
And I'm off!
Tata!
P7
As is spectacles.
As in glasses.
Truth is, I've had this pair for two years now and they've held up SO WELL comparatively. I mean, the left lens IS super-glued in BUT it's okay because I can't really see from that side anyway.
Hold up, rewind.
So, mid-nineties, Mum and Bandito notice I have eye problems. I had a hard time seeing spaces in words when trying to read and I couldn't distinguish smaller shapes unless I touched them. For instance, I couldn't see individual leaves on trees. Yeah. But we couldn't afford to get my eyes checked or get me glasses until Bandito joined the Navy and WOOHOO dependent coverage!!
First, I should say, my eyes looked like this most of the time:
 |
| My left eye was SO TWONKY! |
We go to my first eye appointment and the doctor pretty much says, "OMFGWTFBBQsauce! her eyes are TERRIBLE! She has a lazy-eye and it could be degenerative. We can do this this and this to help."
Soooo first pair of glass which I managed to keep until about third grade. MASSIVELY corrective.
They were aboooout ____________________ < this thick.
The first day I wore them, I tried to balance on a curb because I could actually SEE that it was above actual ground. THAT didn't work so well. I also was totally fascinated because I asked Bandito what was wrong with the trees-they looked funny, like they had some kind of abnormal growth that made what I usually saw (green lumps with some brown sticks connecting them to trees) look REALLY weird and he told me there was nothing wrong, I could just actually see the leaves now.
For instance:
 | |
| Most people can see this and that it has individual leaves. |
 |
| And this is closer to what I could see |
Fantastic!!
So, here comes kindergarten at a new school and I am Coke-Bottle Girl!!
It gets better.
To strengthen my lazy-eye and make it work, they decide to put me in an eye patch.
And the kids always wanted to play Pirates. Guess who got to be the bad guy all the time?
I HATED being the bad guy. I just wanted to play Power Rangers. "But you can't have a BLIND power ranger!!"
I pushed a kid down the slide for that one.
So anyway, here I am, lazy-eyed, patch-covered, Coke Bottle Girl.
Gooooooood times. NOT.
So yeah, I went through a LOT of glass from about 8 until I was fifteen. In kinder, I made my 5s like Js because I couldn't differentiate between a cross bar, part of a line, and a big belly and a cross bar a straight line and a fish hook.
I didn't wear an eye-patch again until fourth grade. I was also legally blind. Let me tell you that SUCKED.
Anyway, I spend years in corrective lenses. I go in for my check up at about 16 and they're like "OMFGWTFBBQsauce! (I like that saying) You're 20/20 in your right eye and 20/45 in your left!"
WOW.
That was also part of why I don't have my driver's license yet. The running joke at the fire department is just to attach an extra rearview mirror to my glasses.
So yeah. If we look at my injury history, most of my injuries are on my left side, because I couldn't a.) see something coming towards me b.) tell the distance between me and something I was about to hit c.) ask someone to cover my left side d.) be distracted from what was going on on my right side or e.) sacrifice my much better right side.
Now, my left eye doesn't drift as much. If I'm really concentrating or tired or spacing out, it will. Or if I'm not paying attention and I happen to notice I'm seeing more of the stuff on my left than in left-front of me.
Alright, I don't actually NEED new specs, but it wouldn't hurt.
And I'm off!
Tata!
P7
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Let's take a walk...
...In my imagination!
I know, scary thought, right?
I believe I said something about it once. Something about Willy Wonka and Tim Burton having a love-child and that child having a child with Anne Rice and J.K. Rowling's love-child, who was doing acid when it had a love-child, who made a movie, which is my imagination.
Just ignore the above paragraph.
Anyway....
So, the people that live in my imagination.
Ahhhhh.....
I should start with Kamalina Tamora MacSnickrowlini. Shut up, I KNOW it's a dumb name. It sounded cool when I was 13. I just call her Kammi. She is basically my alter ego. I like to think, whenever I write something that embarrasses me, it was her doing it.
She's Mickey's daughter, who was my very first character.
Their story, which I lovingly calldumb crap I wrote as a kid B.Y.T.Y.F.I.N. or By Ty Fin. Anyway, basically, it's hodge-podge of Star Wars/Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings/Whatever. The family's dysfunctional, they have magic powers, and they're on a weird quest. For the most part anyway.
Then there's Violet. She sprang to life as I was reading Twifaillight and Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, which I LOVE. Anyway, Vi travels back in time to meet these "vampirates". Yeah, MOST unimaginative thing I ever wrote. Also most blush worthy. Mimi is supposed to be reading it and I'm a little scared of what she's going to say about it. Also, when I finally am drunk enough or have enough balls get around to letting my mother read it, I can just see her reading one part and laughing her ass off and saying "I KNEW IT!".
Pandora. Ahh, Pandora. There's a reason my screen name is Pandora's 7. I started it as a NaNoWriMo project, or National Novel Writing Month, which is in November. I didn't finish, but I'm going to try this year. Anyway, Pandora has to go save Dream-World after opening up a box that released the "seven sins" into that world.Pretty much, I'm Pandora's Jimmeny Cricket, taking notes on her adventures.
Also, PatBo7, is random as HELL. No kidding.
Edit: I can't believe I forgot dear, sweet, Jo. Joella is maid. Not just any maid-she's a princess maid. No, she isn't a princess. She is trained to help raise and to serve princesses. Once that princess marries, Jo moves on to another. She was born in Snow White's father's house. She grew up alongside the girl. Anyway, more to point, Joella works for a lot of Fairy Tale princesses or is somehow involved with them.
Alyciana, or Aly, is my fan-fic character of Alice in Wonderland. THAT story is weird. Haven't gotten very fair on that one. I need to do some more in-depth AiW research.
Antalli and co. are..is...IDK. I don't want to give it away. Anyway, girl is born, girl is raised as boy so she isn't killed, girl finds out she's the object of a prophecy, girl helps restore kingdom. Not saying anymore than that because "Of Fire" is TWISTED.
Ali (so WHUT if I have two totally different characters with the same names?), Sabrina, Lily, Luna and Emma are all minor beings. They all have a story, but it's short story type thing. Just things I thought up and jotted down.
Ah yeah, Lorlissa. Well. I don't wanna talk about her because I don't want to give anything away!! But I started to, so I gotta! Anyway, she's this elf in a kingdom ruled by what's called the Prism Court-eight rulers in all. The Court killed her family and she has to find out why and exact her revenge. It's..REALLY good. It's really my favorite, in terms of story line.
Also, if you've glanced at "Of Fire" and Lorlissa's story, you know Iam a pyromaniac and REALLY like fire have a general theme.
If you want to read anything just ask. I MIGHT e-mail itunless I already did so because some people FAIL at number 3.
Tata!
P7
P.S. TE is writing a blog! This is truest of trufax.
I know, scary thought, right?
I believe I said something about it once. Something about Willy Wonka and Tim Burton having a love-child and that child having a child with Anne Rice and J.K. Rowling's love-child, who was doing acid when it had a love-child, who made a movie, which is my imagination.
Just ignore the above paragraph.
Anyway....
So, the people that live in my imagination.
Ahhhhh.....
I should start with Kamalina Tamora MacSnickrowlini. Shut up, I KNOW it's a dumb name. It sounded cool when I was 13. I just call her Kammi. She is basically my alter ego. I like to think, whenever I write something that embarrasses me, it was her doing it.
She's Mickey's daughter, who was my very first character.
Their story, which I lovingly call
Then there's Violet. She sprang to life as I was reading Twi
Pandora. Ahh, Pandora. There's a reason my screen name is Pandora's 7. I started it as a NaNoWriMo project, or National Novel Writing Month, which is in November. I didn't finish, but I'm going to try this year. Anyway, Pandora has to go save Dream-World after opening up a box that released the "seven sins" into that world.Pretty much, I'm Pandora's Jimmeny Cricket, taking notes on her adventures.
Also, PatBo7, is random as HELL. No kidding.
Edit: I can't believe I forgot dear, sweet, Jo. Joella is maid. Not just any maid-she's a princess maid. No, she isn't a princess. She is trained to help raise and to serve princesses. Once that princess marries, Jo moves on to another. She was born in Snow White's father's house. She grew up alongside the girl. Anyway, more to point, Joella works for a lot of Fairy Tale princesses or is somehow involved with them.
Alyciana, or Aly, is my fan-fic character of Alice in Wonderland. THAT story is weird. Haven't gotten very fair on that one. I need to do some more in-depth AiW research.
Antalli and co. are..is...IDK. I don't want to give it away. Anyway, girl is born, girl is raised as boy so she isn't killed, girl finds out she's the object of a prophecy, girl helps restore kingdom. Not saying anymore than that because "Of Fire" is TWISTED.
Ali (so WHUT if I have two totally different characters with the same names?), Sabrina, Lily, Luna and Emma are all minor beings. They all have a story, but it's short story type thing. Just things I thought up and jotted down.
Ah yeah, Lorlissa. Well. I don't wanna talk about her because I don't want to give anything away!! But I started to, so I gotta! Anyway, she's this elf in a kingdom ruled by what's called the Prism Court-eight rulers in all. The Court killed her family and she has to find out why and exact her revenge. It's..REALLY good. It's really my favorite, in terms of story line.
Also, if you've glanced at "Of Fire" and Lorlissa's story, you know I
If you want to read anything just ask. I MIGHT e-mail it
Tata!
P7
P.S. TE is writing a blog! This is truest of trufax.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
High School. Blech.
As I'm sure some of you know, I was terribly awkward in high school.
Hell, I still am.
But anyway, I was always the oddball of the bunch.
I should mention that in high school my class was pretty much the same nine people we'd had since third grade. My Junior year there was only five of us and we graduated ten.
I can already here the "LOLWHUT"s of some people. I hear it all the time. People don't believe me half the time, but it's true.
I was the valedictorian, Aaron was the salutatorian, TE, Blanca, Felicia, Corrina, Jeff, Jesus, and Becca. All of us had been together since sixth grade at the least. Half-way through our Senior year Kelsey joined us and it was kind of awkward at first because we had all been together so long, but I liked her because she made me seem like less of an oddball and she was fantastic.
Anyway, one of them mentioned something I did in high school and I just turned around and told them to shut up. One of those things I didn't want to remember yanno?
I was more than just socially awkward, too. I've mentioned I'm a clumsy little shit right? OK. Yeah. It made life way more awkward than it was.
Anyway, about Junior year I finally stopped being as awkward. I still was, but I was more outgoing. I remember offering to walk by a group of guys who had been hitting on one of my friends and tell them to leave my girlfriend alone at a basketball game.
I did a few other crazy things, too, and I would run back to my group of friends, terribly red in the face but grinning because they were laughing.
I'm also easily embarrassed.
VERY easily.
The people I work with at camp and have for years know this very well and ALWAYS exploit it. I can try and hide it, but my ears, neck and face all get really, really red when I'm embarrassed, no matter how much I cover it.
Anyway, high school was weird for me. The oddball in a small class. But I loved it and made the best of it I suppose, 'cause I loved it for the most part.
Tata!
P7
Hell, I still am.
But anyway, I was always the oddball of the bunch.
I should mention that in high school my class was pretty much the same nine people we'd had since third grade. My Junior year there was only five of us and we graduated ten.
I can already here the "LOLWHUT"s of some people. I hear it all the time. People don't believe me half the time, but it's true.
I was the valedictorian, Aaron was the salutatorian, TE, Blanca, Felicia, Corrina, Jeff, Jesus, and Becca. All of us had been together since sixth grade at the least. Half-way through our Senior year Kelsey joined us and it was kind of awkward at first because we had all been together so long, but I liked her because she made me seem like less of an oddball and she was fantastic.
Anyway, one of them mentioned something I did in high school and I just turned around and told them to shut up. One of those things I didn't want to remember yanno?
I was more than just socially awkward, too. I've mentioned I'm a clumsy little shit right? OK. Yeah. It made life way more awkward than it was.
Anyway, about Junior year I finally stopped being as awkward. I still was, but I was more outgoing. I remember offering to walk by a group of guys who had been hitting on one of my friends and tell them to leave my girlfriend alone at a basketball game.
I did a few other crazy things, too, and I would run back to my group of friends, terribly red in the face but grinning because they were laughing.
I'm also easily embarrassed.
VERY easily.
The people I work with at camp and have for years know this very well and ALWAYS exploit it. I can try and hide it, but my ears, neck and face all get really, really red when I'm embarrassed, no matter how much I cover it.
Anyway, high school was weird for me. The oddball in a small class. But I loved it and made the best of it I suppose, 'cause I loved it for the most part.
Tata!
P7
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
'Cause of Harry Freakin' Potter, that's why!
So, I'm a fanatic.
Positively, absolutely, LOVE Harry Potter.
For one, it was the first chapter book I ever truly loved. I remember I was about six or seven-ish (yes, I was reading chapter books by then. I LOVED to read.) and somehow this book fell into my hands. I think Mum got it cheap at a sale of some sort. It sat on my shelf for awhile until I finally decided to sit down and read it.
By page three, I was hooked.
I didn't it put down at all that day.
And then I read it again.
And again.
Then I found the second one.
And 'bout had a conniption. (WTF I spelled that right?)
So, I had one of my first real obsessions other than PBS shows and waffles and Duplo blocks.
I read one and two so many times I could direct quote them, almost to the page. My copy of Sorcerer's Stone was beaten, bruised, and terribly well-loved. I would've kept it forever ifa certain little brother of mine and father of mine hadn't connived to rid me of it certain circumstance hadn't come into play.
Thankfully, TE also had a visit from the Obsession Fairy and had all of the books as soon as they were published. So I borrowed hers until S was old enough to appreciate having books for Christmas (trust me, EVERYONE gets books for Christmas with both of my families AND they are excited about it) and he got his first set of HP. Shortly after that N got hers, so there were some in my room! Then I was scouting garage sales and cheap used books and such and I got a couple for Christmas and birthdays and whatnot.
I remember I got Order of the Phoenix for Christmas one year because I stayed in the bedroom until dinner and one of the grown-ups made me put it down. Half-Blood Prince came out the summer I was staying with Bandito. I was baby-sitting for one of his work buddies and I brought OotP with me one day and they were like, "OMG you like HP too?!"
I should mention they were some of the nicest, greatest people I ever sat for. And their kids were fantastic!
So, they go to pick me up one day, and in the seat I usually take is HBP and I flip out. They just said, "That's your payment for this week," and I was completely content.
So of course, I read it in under 24 hours.
Then Deathly Hallows is soon to come out. I begged and pleaded for Mum to pre-order it for me. I payed for it, of course, so she did.
It fell apart within a week.
Also, in the months before DH was released, Mum had finally started reading HP. She swore up and down for ten years she wouldn't read it until it was all published so she didn't have to wait for it.I walked into the living room one night when she was reading to find her crying over HBP and I just said, "Told ya you'd cry!"
Anyway, DH fell apart and I about cried. Luckily, it was a slow deterioration. And S and N were racing each other until N got ahead and S just went hit stuff with his lightsaber. He wants to know what happened in DH and I told him he had to finish OotP and HBP first. Luckily, I was able to obtain another copy of DH and that's the copy I took when I moved out. So I had all of them but Prisoner of Azkaban and Mum's house had all of them but HBP.
And I've read them all at least once a year since.
So, my whole thing with Harry Freakin' Potter.
First, when I read them, I realize my life's not so bad. I'm not being hunted by the most terrifying wizard in history or carrying part of his soul.
Second, I'm a writer.
I only WISH and dream of the fame JK has. I can only see wisps of people loving my characters as much as they love Harry and crew. I also envy that she has finished SEVEN books while I have SEVERAL in the works and not a single one finished. Sure, I have endings written. I have beginnings, middles, what-not.
But not enough.
One of these days, I'll finish one.
Personally, I hope it's Lorlissa's story, mostly because she is nothing like me. Lissa is not even one speck based on me-that's why I like her so much. Most of my characters are, which is why I'm a narcissist.
That, and I really love that story. I just need more for it.
So, in conclusion, J.K. Rowling and the massive fandom she has created make me jealous. The sheer amount of people that love what she made makes me awe. I just want people to love my characters as I love them, I want people to expand on their stories, to wrap themselves in them.
Positively, absolutely, LOVE Harry Potter.
For one, it was the first chapter book I ever truly loved. I remember I was about six or seven-ish (yes, I was reading chapter books by then. I LOVED to read.) and somehow this book fell into my hands. I think Mum got it cheap at a sale of some sort. It sat on my shelf for awhile until I finally decided to sit down and read it.
By page three, I was hooked.
I didn't it put down at all that day.
And then I read it again.
And again.
Then I found the second one.
And 'bout had a conniption. (WTF I spelled that right?)
So, I had one of my first real obsessions other than PBS shows and waffles and Duplo blocks.
I read one and two so many times I could direct quote them, almost to the page. My copy of Sorcerer's Stone was beaten, bruised, and terribly well-loved. I would've kept it forever if
Thankfully, TE also had a visit from the Obsession Fairy and had all of the books as soon as they were published. So I borrowed hers until S was old enough to appreciate having books for Christmas (trust me, EVERYONE gets books for Christmas with both of my families AND they are excited about it) and he got his first set of HP. Shortly after that N got hers, so there were some in my room! Then I was scouting garage sales and cheap used books and such and I got a couple for Christmas and birthdays and whatnot.
I remember I got Order of the Phoenix for Christmas one year because I stayed in the bedroom until dinner and one of the grown-ups made me put it down. Half-Blood Prince came out the summer I was staying with Bandito. I was baby-sitting for one of his work buddies and I brought OotP with me one day and they were like, "OMG you like HP too?!"
I should mention they were some of the nicest, greatest people I ever sat for. And their kids were fantastic!
So, they go to pick me up one day, and in the seat I usually take is HBP and I flip out. They just said, "That's your payment for this week," and I was completely content.
So of course, I read it in under 24 hours.
Then Deathly Hallows is soon to come out. I begged and pleaded for Mum to pre-order it for me. I payed for it, of course, so she did.
It fell apart within a week.
Also, in the months before DH was released, Mum had finally started reading HP. She swore up and down for ten years she wouldn't read it until it was all published so she didn't have to wait for it.I walked into the living room one night when she was reading to find her crying over HBP and I just said, "Told ya you'd cry!"
Anyway, DH fell apart and I about cried. Luckily, it was a slow deterioration. And S and N were racing each other until N got ahead and S just went hit stuff with his lightsaber. He wants to know what happened in DH and I told him he had to finish OotP and HBP first. Luckily, I was able to obtain another copy of DH and that's the copy I took when I moved out. So I had all of them but Prisoner of Azkaban and Mum's house had all of them but HBP.
And I've read them all at least once a year since.
So, my whole thing with Harry Freakin' Potter.
First, when I read them, I realize my life's not so bad. I'm not being hunted by the most terrifying wizard in history or carrying part of his soul.
Second, I'm a writer.
I only WISH and dream of the fame JK has. I can only see wisps of people loving my characters as much as they love Harry and crew. I also envy that she has finished SEVEN books while I have SEVERAL in the works and not a single one finished. Sure, I have endings written. I have beginnings, middles, what-not.
But not enough.
One of these days, I'll finish one.
Personally, I hope it's Lorlissa's story, mostly because she is nothing like me. Lissa is not even one speck based on me-that's why I like her so much. Most of my characters are, which is why I'm a narcissist.
That, and I really love that story. I just need more for it.
 |
| One of my drawings of Lissa |
So, in conclusion, J.K. Rowling and the massive fandom she has created make me jealous. The sheer amount of people that love what she made makes me awe. I just want people to love my characters as I love them, I want people to expand on their stories, to wrap themselves in them.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Wait, you're doing WHAT this summer?
The same thing I do EVERY summer.
I go to camp.
I spend six weeks of my summer on a mountain, in the forest.
Surrounded by boy scouts.
For a tiny pay check.
Living in a mouse-infested cabin.
AND I LOVE THE EVER-LOVING, DIRTY, ROTTEN, STINKING, CRAP OUT OF IT.
I really do.
It's where I've met some of my best friends. It's where I really and truly found God. It's where I would spend my entire life if I could. As long as I got vacations. I've done some outrageous things there, like eat a LOT of ketchup. I'm not going to mention a few of the other things because my mother reads this. No, I'm totally kidding but I have gone on a hike at two in the morningcovered in honey and peanut butter laughing after the fact. It's also where I took my first ride in the back of an ambulance on a gurney. I've ridden in the back on calls with the VFD, but I talked about it here .
I can't even begin to explain the awesomeness of camp. It's just...too amazing. You learn a lot at camp-about yourself, for one thing.
I honestly wanted to write a post about camp, but there aren't words.
I mean, I've been piss-pot scared at camp. I've nearly peed myself laughing. I've cried too, a few times.
Camp is beautiful, camp is love. Camp is funny and sad. It's amazing, it's stupendous, it's wonderful. It's stupenmazful.
Driving up to camp on the first day, my heart just opens up. I see that crappy dirt road, the Bowl with small patches of snow even though it's mid-June, the beautiful and tasty looking creek filled with gihardia and kryptosperidium (those are real parasite-they make you pretty grossly sick), and I get moths in my stomach. You don't get butterflies in your tummy here. You get moths. Why, you ask? Because they are DELICIOUS. I feel whole, I feel complete, I feel like my life can't get any better. But then it does.
Camp starts.
We eat moths too. That's another story.
We come up with the most fantastic tales, we sing and dance in front of a fire, we run from the ninja-drop-bears who want to kill me because I'm covered in snow-cone syrup, we avoid the Honey Wagon at all costs, we bother Doug because he knows all.We leave what happens in the admin building in the admin building, and 0 does most certainly equal 7 according to some people. Creating appropriate hand-gestures for when you can't yell from the snack bar to the handi-craft lodge is not only allowed, but sometimes encouraged.
Shenanigans are required.
Anyway, Disney Land may be the happiest place on earth, but Walt Disney's never been to SPSR.
Also, I'm listening to this .
Tata!
P7
I go to camp.
I spend six weeks of my summer on a mountain, in the forest.
Surrounded by boy scouts.
For a tiny pay check.
Living in a mouse-infested cabin.
AND I LOVE THE EVER-LOVING, DIRTY, ROTTEN, STINKING, CRAP OUT OF IT.
I really do.
It's where I've met some of my best friends. It's where I really and truly found God. It's where I would spend my entire life if I could. As long as I got vacations. I've done some outrageous things there, like eat a LOT of ketchup. I'm not going to mention a few of the other things because my mother reads this. No, I'm totally kidding but I have gone on a hike at two in the morning
I can't even begin to explain the awesomeness of camp. It's just...too amazing. You learn a lot at camp-about yourself, for one thing.
I honestly wanted to write a post about camp, but there aren't words.
I mean, I've been piss-pot scared at camp. I've nearly peed myself laughing. I've cried too, a few times.
Camp is beautiful, camp is love. Camp is funny and sad. It's amazing, it's stupendous, it's wonderful. It's stupenmazful.
Driving up to camp on the first day, my heart just opens up. I see that crappy dirt road, the Bowl with small patches of snow even though it's mid-June, the beautiful and tasty looking creek filled with gihardia and kryptosperidium (those are real parasite-they make you pretty grossly sick), and I get moths in my stomach. You don't get butterflies in your tummy here. You get moths. Why, you ask? Because they are DELICIOUS. I feel whole, I feel complete, I feel like my life can't get any better. But then it does.
Camp starts.
We eat moths too. That's another story.
We come up with the most fantastic tales, we sing and dance in front of a fire, we run from the ninja-drop-bears who want to kill me because I'm covered in snow-cone syrup, we avoid the Honey Wagon at all costs, we bother Doug because he knows all.We leave what happens in the admin building in the admin building, and 0 does most certainly equal 7 according to some people. Creating appropriate hand-gestures for when you can't yell from the snack bar to the handi-craft lodge is not only allowed, but sometimes encouraged.
Shenanigans are required.
Anyway, Disney Land may be the happiest place on earth, but Walt Disney's never been to SPSR.
Also, I'm listening to this .
Tata!
P7
Im a little wierdo, doo do doo
Yeah, Okay, I'm an oddball. I'm the first to say so.
I'm saying this as I'm sitting in the computer lab in my Where's Waldo costume that Meggie got me for graduation.
I do weird stuff.
Or rather, what general society finds weird.
For one, I'm dressed up like Waldo.
For two, I REALLY like to write and read. Like, a lot.
I've taped myself to a chair. With duct tape.
I work at a boy scout camp during the summer. And love the crap out of it.
I plan odd costumes. Like off the wall stuff.
My favorite holiday is Halloween because it's the one day no one can judge you for wearing a prom dress, spike-covered boots, fun purple striped socks, a tie, a mask, and a cape.
Some of my best friends were my teachers in Elementary school and also a good part of the reason I'm currently doing what I'm doing.
If you can, read the story I started for NaNoWriMo last year. Yeah.
My beliefs are odd. I'm not getting into that, but it's really odd.
The way I see the world (as I mentioned in my first post I believe) is WAY odd, comparatively.
Some of the people who know me and have for years, would not believe I'm shy. But I am. That's weird in and of itself. I am TERRIBLY shy.
Anyway, just wanted to mention that. Also, figured I should post today since some peoplewho fail epiqly at a lot of stuff complained I hadn't posted yesterday because I didn't bloody feel like it. But they know who they are.
Also, this picture is relavent to this post:
I'm gunna go throw some butter.
Tata!
P7
I'm saying this as I'm sitting in the computer lab in my Where's Waldo costume that Meggie got me for graduation.
I do weird stuff.
Or rather, what general society finds weird.
For one, I'm dressed up like Waldo.
For two, I REALLY like to write and read. Like, a lot.
I've taped myself to a chair. With duct tape.
I work at a boy scout camp during the summer. And love the crap out of it.
I plan odd costumes. Like off the wall stuff.
My favorite holiday is Halloween because it's the one day no one can judge you for wearing a prom dress, spike-covered boots, fun purple striped socks, a tie, a mask, and a cape.
Some of my best friends were my teachers in Elementary school and also a good part of the reason I'm currently doing what I'm doing.
If you can, read the story I started for NaNoWriMo last year. Yeah.
My beliefs are odd. I'm not getting into that, but it's really odd.
The way I see the world (as I mentioned in my first post I believe) is WAY odd, comparatively.
Some of the people who know me and have for years, would not believe I'm shy. But I am. That's weird in and of itself. I am TERRIBLY shy.
Anyway, just wanted to mention that. Also, figured I should post today since some people
Also, this picture is relavent to this post:
I'm gunna go throw some butter.
Tata!
P7
Friday, September 17, 2010
No blog. Read anyway.
I should explain something.
My family's kinda weird.
Not like, freaky lawn gnomes collections weird (though I wouldn't put it past some of them), just...odd, I suppose, compared to today's average 2.5 kids living in suburbia girl scouts and soccer practice types.
For one, there's alot of kids. Like, quite a lot. Just my general family alone has 9 kids-that's me, my one full brother, my three half siblings, three step brothers, and one step-sister, plus four parents. Then there's people who aren't technically family, but IDC. Like Meggie and TE. Meggie's like my big sister pretty much and TE IS my sister in everything but actuality. And Mum and Larry consider TE their kid too, so 10 of us. My Aunt Sarah has three kids of her own, plus Uncle Matt's two boys. Uncle Justin has a handful I think 5, plus Aunt Tammi's kids. Uncle Jeremy has a girl and twin boys, Aunt Steffy has one girl, and Aunt Michelle has a boy and a girl. And Meggie has four kids and one of Uncle Justin's boys has a little girl.
So, yeah, holidays are hectic.
I should mention that all the above mentioned uncles and aunts are all technically one branch. Gran's kids are Bandito, Sarah, and Justin. Papa's kids are Bandito and Jeremy (I took a pic of Papa, Bandito, Jeremy and S one time and they ALL had the same expression and nose except for S-his nose is weird, like long like Bandito's but round like Mum's) but I'm pretty sure he adopted Sarah and I know he adopted Steffy and Michelle.
And then there's Mum's version of TE, Nat, who I've called my aunt all my life, and she has three kids. And then Mum's brother Jason, too.
So, yeah, anyway, I have a big family. Shopping trips aredisasters waiting to happen FUN!
But I don't find it weird at all. I LOVE having a big family. yeah, okay call me weird, but I do. I love that the house is crowded at Christmas. The kitchen is hell in a handbag sometimes-someone is ALWAYS making something. I made peanut butter brownies once at Sarah's. Uncle Jeremy and the twins were there, as well as Bandito's crew and part of Sarah's. So yeah, those brownies didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.
Thanksgiving Day, Papa came over and, no lie, he, Bandito, and Jeremy sat and swapped Navy stories for like 3 hours. All three wearing Navy hats. I laughed.
But, anyways, my family is really eccentric. We're all just oddballs. Always have been. Ask 'em. I dare ya.
I should mention that Bandito's family is mostly redheads. Gran and all her three kids have/had red hair. Bandito's is more brown now, so is Justin's kinda, but Gran and Aunt Sarah have beautiful curly red hair and I LOVE it. My hair used to be red, but noooooo. And I have like, a tiny tiny bit of curl. Enough so that when I want my hair to lay flat I'll have ONE curl that sticks up. S had real curly hair, now it's just kinda...more like a carpet. So yeah, we all have loads of freckles, except for Sarah's oldest daughter-she's Spanish, dark hair, light skin, and those blue eyes.
I have this theory that Mum has a thing for blue eyes and curls-SD and Bandito both have blue eyes and slightly curly hair.
The B crew, the younger three, all have Mum's hair color and bluish eyes. Lil A's are kinda greyish, to be honest (to me anyway, Mum says they are green green green, like hers), they're like light blue and dark green mixed. I love her eyes. N is the only one of us with no curl whatsoever to her hair. Lil A has the curliest of all though, it's like Little Orphan Annie's almost. And for now it's like a gold color, but it'll get darker. The H crew, S and I, are the only ones with dimples (WOOT!), which is kinda funny.
Anyway, wanted to talk about my lovely family!
Tata!
P7
My family's kinda weird.
Not like, freaky lawn gnomes collections weird (though I wouldn't put it past some of them), just...odd, I suppose, compared to today's average 2.5 kids living in suburbia girl scouts and soccer practice types.
For one, there's alot of kids. Like, quite a lot. Just my general family alone has 9 kids-that's me, my one full brother, my three half siblings, three step brothers, and one step-sister, plus four parents. Then there's people who aren't technically family, but IDC. Like Meggie and TE. Meggie's like my big sister pretty much and TE IS my sister in everything but actuality. And Mum and Larry consider TE their kid too, so 10 of us. My Aunt Sarah has three kids of her own, plus Uncle Matt's two boys. Uncle Justin has a handful I think 5, plus Aunt Tammi's kids. Uncle Jeremy has a girl and twin boys, Aunt Steffy has one girl, and Aunt Michelle has a boy and a girl. And Meggie has four kids and one of Uncle Justin's boys has a little girl.
So, yeah, holidays are hectic.
I should mention that all the above mentioned uncles and aunts are all technically one branch. Gran's kids are Bandito, Sarah, and Justin. Papa's kids are Bandito and Jeremy (I took a pic of Papa, Bandito, Jeremy and S one time and they ALL had the same expression and nose except for S-his nose is weird, like long like Bandito's but round like Mum's) but I'm pretty sure he adopted Sarah and I know he adopted Steffy and Michelle.
And then there's Mum's version of TE, Nat, who I've called my aunt all my life, and she has three kids. And then Mum's brother Jason, too.
So, yeah, anyway, I have a big family. Shopping trips are
But I don't find it weird at all. I LOVE having a big family. yeah, okay call me weird, but I do. I love that the house is crowded at Christmas. The kitchen is hell in a handbag sometimes-someone is ALWAYS making something. I made peanut butter brownies once at Sarah's. Uncle Jeremy and the twins were there, as well as Bandito's crew and part of Sarah's. So yeah, those brownies didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.
Thanksgiving Day, Papa came over and, no lie, he, Bandito, and Jeremy sat and swapped Navy stories for like 3 hours. All three wearing Navy hats. I laughed.
But, anyways, my family is really eccentric. We're all just oddballs. Always have been. Ask 'em. I dare ya.
I should mention that Bandito's family is mostly redheads. Gran and all her three kids have/had red hair. Bandito's is more brown now, so is Justin's kinda, but Gran and Aunt Sarah have beautiful curly red hair and I LOVE it. My hair used to be red, but noooooo. And I have like, a tiny tiny bit of curl. Enough so that when I want my hair to lay flat I'll have ONE curl that sticks up. S had real curly hair, now it's just kinda...more like a carpet. So yeah, we all have loads of freckles, except for Sarah's oldest daughter-she's Spanish, dark hair, light skin, and those blue eyes.
I have this theory that Mum has a thing for blue eyes and curls-SD and Bandito both have blue eyes and slightly curly hair.
The B crew, the younger three, all have Mum's hair color and bluish eyes. Lil A's are kinda greyish, to be honest (to me anyway, Mum says they are green green green, like hers), they're like light blue and dark green mixed. I love her eyes. N is the only one of us with no curl whatsoever to her hair. Lil A has the curliest of all though, it's like Little Orphan Annie's almost. And for now it's like a gold color, but it'll get darker. The H crew, S and I, are the only ones with dimples (WOOT!), which is kinda funny.
Anyway, wanted to talk about my lovely family!
Tata!
P7
Thursday, September 16, 2010
For TE
First, I have to say, this is pretty much our theme song. Just saying.
So, TE and I. Hmm.
'Spose I should start at the beginning.
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, nothing happened consequential to this story. A family was dysfunctional enough to screw up an entire universe. Mine's not there yet, but slowly getting there.
Anyway, the day I met TE. Hell, I don't really remember actually. Pretty sure it was summer/fallish. Or something. We pretty much played Mario Kart the whole time. Our moms were friends and mine had brought me down to visit them. But yeah, Mario Kart. She whooped my ass. Several times.
So, we go to visit again, I think it was November. I remember it was snowing. This is back when Lucky's was the Sunset. And there were 150 Pokemon. Remember that?
TE and I had been in the house all day and wanted to go out. The moms were going to take us to the Sunset for lunch (OMG green chili). We were outside for awhile before lunch (did I mention it was snowing?).
I should interject here that we were 8. I couldn't ride a bike. Maladroitness sucks.
TE however, was bike pro (scooters, not so much). She rode that bike EVERYWHERE. It was red with yellow and orange splatters on it. I remember it well (that happens when you chase after crap for years).
That day was the first of lots and lots and lots offalling down and nearly breaking my face running after her.
I can imagine this looked funny because I was flat-footed as a kid. And I had big feet and was gangly. I think I mentioned that.
So, from that point on, Laura and I have beenplanning world domination shenaniganizing. Shut up, Mo, it's a word. For about three or four years, Laura rode her bike around and my sorry butt would be running after her. Then we figured it was more fun to walk.
Let's see, we've both been knocked out (I was swinging on a tree branch and it broke, I fell in the irrigation ditch and bonked my head on a rock; we were playing volleyball at a camp once and she got smacked clean in the face-she got a concussion), we've both technically run from the cops (our one town cop and my step-dad actually-they both drove past us as we were walking home when we knew they were looking for us), I could go on and on. We've been in fights (quite a number actually-that or I'm breaking up her fights) done pretty much everything. We sing like a couple of druggies with helium sometimes just because we can...SO MUCH STUFF!!
Anyway, just wanted to write about My Ebstie, who's pretty much the other half of my life.
Damn. My MP3 is done charging. I have to go study now....
Tata!
P7
So, TE and I. Hmm.
'Spose I should start at the beginning.
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, nothing happened consequential to this story. A family was dysfunctional enough to screw up an entire universe. Mine's not there yet, but slowly getting there.
Anyway, the day I met TE. Hell, I don't really remember actually. Pretty sure it was summer/fallish. Or something. We pretty much played Mario Kart the whole time. Our moms were friends and mine had brought me down to visit them. But yeah, Mario Kart. She whooped my ass. Several times.
So, we go to visit again, I think it was November. I remember it was snowing. This is back when Lucky's was the Sunset. And there were 150 Pokemon. Remember that?
TE and I had been in the house all day and wanted to go out. The moms were going to take us to the Sunset for lunch (OMG green chili). We were outside for awhile before lunch (did I mention it was snowing?).
I should interject here that we were 8. I couldn't ride a bike. Maladroitness sucks.
TE however, was bike pro (scooters, not so much). She rode that bike EVERYWHERE. It was red with yellow and orange splatters on it. I remember it well (that happens when you chase after crap for years).
That day was the first of lots and lots and lots of
I can imagine this looked funny because I was flat-footed as a kid. And I had big feet and was gangly. I think I mentioned that.
So, from that point on, Laura and I have been
Let's see, we've both been knocked out (I was swinging on a tree branch and it broke, I fell in the irrigation ditch and bonked my head on a rock; we were playing volleyball at a camp once and she got smacked clean in the face-she got a concussion), we've both technically run from the cops (our one town cop and my step-dad actually-they both drove past us as we were walking home when we knew they were looking for us), I could go on and on. We've been in fights (quite a number actually-that or I'm breaking up her fights) done pretty much everything. We sing like a couple of druggies with helium sometimes just because we can...SO MUCH STUFF!!
Anyway, just wanted to write about My Ebstie, who's pretty much the other half of my life.
Damn. My MP3 is done charging. I have to go study now....
Tata!
P7
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
"And this scar is from, which I did again two years later and got this!"
Today's post is about sports.
In high school, I played soccer, basketball, volleyball, ran track, and was the mascot for two years.
I should probably mention now that I am and always have been, a clumsy little shit. Maladroit is my middle name.
The first year I did any kind of sports whatsoever was third grade. This is relative.
So, I was a tall, gangly kid. Massively annoying when you want to play in the monkey dome and you are too farsnarking tall.
Ergo, I got a lot of injuries. I had tons of fun and was almost always in a brace or bandage from freshman year on. Also, being as big as I am, I hurt other people too. Not intentionally, but it still happened.
Like this:
So, yeah, they called me beast for a reason. That and I'm having WAY too much fun making these. My favorite injury happened my senior yeah during volleyball season.
I have to insert here that I'm vicious and dedicated. Fiercely dedicated. I see it as I just like playing-hell, I loved it. My coach once said she wished she had five more with my heart. Have I mentioned I don't handle compliments well? Yeah, everytime she said that I tried to blow it off as "I just like playing! That and telling bruise/scar stories is funny." And Nan would roll her eyes at me. Also, I've known Nan since I was eight. She knows I'm clumsy. She enjoys every minute of it. She's like our other mom. Anyway, practice one day:
In high school, I played soccer, basketball, volleyball, ran track, and was the mascot for two years.
I should probably mention now that I am and always have been, a clumsy little shit. Maladroit is my middle name.
The first year I did any kind of sports whatsoever was third grade. This is relative.
Ergo, I got a lot of injuries. I had tons of fun and was almost always in a brace or bandage from freshman year on. Also, being as big as I am, I hurt other people too. Not intentionally, but it still happened.
Like this:
So, yeah, they called me beast for a reason. That and I'm having WAY too much fun making these. My favorite injury happened my senior yeah during volleyball season.
I have to insert here that I'm vicious and dedicated. Fiercely dedicated. I see it as I just like playing-hell, I loved it. My coach once said she wished she had five more with my heart. Have I mentioned I don't handle compliments well? Yeah, everytime she said that I tried to blow it off as "I just like playing! That and telling bruise/scar stories is funny." And Nan would roll her eyes at me. Also, I've known Nan since I was eight. She knows I'm clumsy. She enjoys every minute of it. She's like our other mom. Anyway, practice one day:
So, yeah, first time I ever actually HAVE to go to a doctor for something sports related and it's a TOOTH.
Anyway, I looked goofy for a day and a half and wouldn't talk to anybody. But mostly just wanted to play with shapes on Powerpoint. Might post later about TE and how she's a jerkfaced piece of jerk jerky my bestestestest friend evar.
Tata!
P7
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
My neighbor put pink stickers on my door....
I come home yesterday to find my door PLASTERED with stickers. Shiny fish stickers. After staring at it for a minute or so because I'm easily distracted by shiny stuff, I saw my name done in stickers too. It was done in pink.
Frankly, I believe whoever invented the color pink should be strung up on a rack and pulled slowly apart for eternity.
Can you tell I don't like it?
I just think it's gross. Like dog crap gross.
Anyway, I left the pink stickers because they were not solely pink (they had different designs on 'em) and because it was artsy. And I will pretty much always permit artsy.
So that's why the title anyway.
Today, I get to run aroundwith an invisibility cloak scaring the shit out of people doing stuff that nobody really wants to do but it needs to be done. Well, some it I kinda wanna do because I WOULD like some incoming money. For one, I have to go ask for a letter verifying that I go to school so that I can get the rest of my scholarship money. Le sigh. I emailed them once asking and they just blew me off. Secondly, I have to go talk to Student Employment and get a job because, somehow, going to school completely on scholarships and being from a low-income family, I don't qualify for work-study. WTF!
So, yeah, running around.
And next Tuesday I have to go BACK to the department of revenue and give them copies of my birth certificate. (I didn't have it because we moved-a lot and it got lost along the way, but Bandito was wonderful enough to get it for me, even though his name wasn't on it, so I blame part of my difficulties on the Catholic hospital I was born in, who wouldn't put his name on it 'cause he and Mum weren't married. Pfft.) I also have to have my mother sign an "affidavit of identity" whatever the hell that is, which I can't because it's too long a trip for them to make. The Toaster-on-Wheels would not make it and SD hates city driving. Also, it'd have to be during the week, which means possibly leaving the kiddos with a baby-sitter. Anyway, gunna see if Mum can go to the DMV down their, sign this piece of crap, and have them fax it up.
Life frustrates me, in small ways, but still....
-P7
PS: My friend Emma mentioned me in her blog
Go check it out. She's a fantastic writer, I must add.
Frankly, I believe whoever invented the color pink should be strung up on a rack and pulled slowly apart for eternity.
Can you tell I don't like it?
I just think it's gross. Like dog crap gross.
Anyway, I left the pink stickers because they were not solely pink (they had different designs on 'em) and because it was artsy. And I will pretty much always permit artsy.
So that's why the title anyway.
Today, I get to run around
So, yeah, running around.
And next Tuesday I have to go BACK to the department of revenue and give them copies of my birth certificate. (I didn't have it because we moved-a lot and it got lost along the way, but Bandito was wonderful enough to get it for me, even though his name wasn't on it, so I blame part of my difficulties on the Catholic hospital I was born in, who wouldn't put his name on it 'cause he and Mum weren't married. Pfft.) I also have to have my mother sign an "affidavit of identity" whatever the hell that is, which I can't because it's too long a trip for them to make. The Toaster-on-Wheels would not make it and SD hates city driving. Also, it'd have to be during the week, which means possibly leaving the kiddos with a baby-sitter. Anyway, gunna see if Mum can go to the DMV down their, sign this piece of crap, and have them fax it up.
Life frustrates me, in small ways, but still....
-P7
PS: My friend Emma mentioned me in her blog
Go check it out. She's a fantastic writer, I must add.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Student+dying=Studying, which is what I should be doing the rest of the week instead of blogging.
So, started off good today. Went to the gym, worked out a bit, got to swim (my shoulders REALLY hurt), chatted with Josh and Emily in history, ta-duh ta-duh ta-duh (as Wags says). So anyway, I'm taking Japanese this semester. WHY would someone do that might you ask? Well, you see, for one, I'm bent on world domination I'm insane. Obviously. For two, American Sign Language ( which I want to learn SO BAD-I think it's amazing), French, and German were full. Fantastic right? And I really don't get along with Spanish. I don't get along with other spoken languages at all really. Stupid English-I don't get along with it well either, matter of fact. Ask anyone who has heard me talk since I was about eight. Yeah. That's part of why I want to take ASL so bad.
So, I need language arts credits.
I hate taking English classes. I really do. I hate them so much.
And then people ask me what I like to do for a hobby/passion/obsession.
I like to write.
Yeah, I know, WTF right?
But anyway, I wasn't going to take English when I had things like Japanese and ASL for the taking.
SO, get to Japanese today, and was totally confused again. I mean, I can understand what's said, but only if I've heard it so many times. The formula for me understanding a word and its meaning in another language should look like this:
But actually looks like this:
So, in conclusion, I have a hard time understanding.
Anyway, I get the syllabary (alphabet) and it's sounds. It's just putting them together to make words. And then there are four different tenses and at least three different ways to end a word with that tense.
So yeah, it's difficult.
But, I'd rather struggle through then not do it at all. My alter ego, the one who does what it should, just smacked actual me with a shovel, BTW.
Also, Calvin's freaking adorable. Seriously, he makes my day.
So, I have a writing test on Thursday and a Comprehension test on Friday. Which means my Thursday morning/night has just been dedicated to the library.
On a lighter note, I GET TO WATCH TOY STORY THREE TONIGHT FINALLY!
Later on, I shall post about how the kids who were the original Toy Story generation now HAVE kids who are the new TS generation.
Ta-ta for now,
P7
So, I need language arts credits.
I hate taking English classes. I really do. I hate them so much.
And then people ask me what I like to do for a hobby/passion
I like to write.
Yeah, I know, WTF right?
But anyway, I wasn't going to take English when I had things like Japanese and ASL for the taking.
SO, get to Japanese today, and was totally confused again. I mean, I can understand what's said, but only if I've heard it so many times. The formula for me understanding a word and its meaning in another language should look like this:
But actually looks like this:
So, in conclusion, I have a hard time understanding.
Anyway, I get the syllabary (alphabet) and it's sounds. It's just putting them together to make words. And then there are four different tenses and at least three different ways to end a word with that tense.
So yeah, it's difficult.
But, I'd rather struggle through then not do it at all. My alter ego, the one who does what it should, just smacked actual me with a shovel, BTW.
Also, Calvin's freaking adorable. Seriously, he makes my day.
So, I have a writing test on Thursday and a Comprehension test on Friday. Which means my Thursday morning/night has just been dedicated to the library.
On a lighter note, I GET TO WATCH TOY STORY THREE TONIGHT FINALLY!
Later on, I shall post about how the kids who were the original Toy Story generation now HAVE kids who are the new TS generation.
Ta-ta for now,
P7
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Be Like That (current song BTW) or My narcissism
Today was spent in a fit of death rampage to your mind randomosity. Shut up, Mozilla, it's a word. Since my roommate was kind enough to tell college to fuck itsself apparently never show up, my neighbor across the hall, Phuong, and I hang out a lot. Mozilla, shut up, it's Vietnamese. Anyway, today I was just opening the door to leave to fight the zombies for breakfast as she was about to knock on my door. So after breakfast we went around every floor of the residence hall and wrote on most of the name decals and every single marker board. It was fantastic. Now I'm spending my afternoon reading. I should mention I have a pancake WTF look on my face. Okay, sorry, I LOVE strike-outs. Makes a somewhat interesting blog mildly hilarious. It's what I'm actually thinking instead of what actually transpired.
Anyway, I'm reading stuff I wrote from the time I was 12 I think. Every time I happen to pause, I'm either thinking, "Hey, I wrote that, awesome," or slamming my head on the desk making the people in the lab question my sanity. 'Cause really, some of it is really *headdesk* worthy if you read it and realized that themind vomit creation burning your irises sitting before you is YOURS.
Anyway, I'll admit I'm none too proud of some of the things I've made my characters do. Or had them say. Or of the characters themselves. But it doesn't matter because now they exist. On the internet, on paper, in my headwhich is not a safe place for someone to exist entirely.
Would it be considered narcissism that the majority of my characters are based on me? I guess so. If you do happen to read or have read anything I've created, you know this. And probably if you've read any of it I may or may not have based a character of you. If you can't tell, you FAIL.
Anyways, I'm going through my LJ and found my first long story. And kind ofwanted to hit all of the people with shovels threw up a little. Yeah. It's terrible. It's angsty teenage magic drama based on my REAL life. I love the characters to pieces, but frankly, I just wanna cry at the story. And I can't re-write it because that is who they are, it's their story not mine, and I may have killed them once or twice or multiple ways to try and get rid of them I can't because they're too much a part of me. If I got rid of them fully, I'd die a little myself.
So to take my mind off of all the copy pasta I've made, I figured I'd write today's blog.
Also, TE owes me 20 bucks.
Anyway, TE and Mimi are the only people whoshould have if SOMEONE hadn't lost their CD copy of it have read pretty much all I've written. Right now Mum's going "WTH why haven't I?" Because of the terrible, terrible jokes and my blood pressure. It took a LOT of begging and convincing for Mimi to get copies. That and the thought of Mum reading some of it before I'm any less awkward just makes me wanna move to Canada and change my name to Carly hide in a fridge box forever. IDK why it just does.
But yeah, I'll let the world read SOME. Some of it will make a lot of people go O.o "Aimee wrote this?!?!" Yeah it's like that.
Alright, back to the *headdesk*ing
ta-ta for now!
P7
Anyway, I'm reading stuff I wrote from the time I was 12 I think. Every time I happen to pause, I'm either thinking, "Hey, I wrote that, awesome," or slamming my head on the desk making the people in the lab question my sanity. 'Cause really, some of it is really *headdesk* worthy if you read it and realized that the
Anyway, I'll admit I'm none too proud of some of the things I've made my characters do. Or had them say. Or of the characters themselves. But it doesn't matter because now they exist. On the internet, on paper, in my head
Would it be considered narcissism that the majority of my characters are based on me? I guess so. If you do happen to read or have read anything I've created, you know this. And probably if you've read any of it I may or may not have based a character of you. If you can't tell, you FAIL.
Anyways, I'm going through my LJ and found my first long story. And kind of
So to take my mind off of all the copy pasta I've made, I figured I'd write today's blog.
Also, TE owes me 20 bucks.
Anyway, TE and Mimi are the only people who
But yeah, I'll let the world read SOME. Some of it will make a lot of people go O.o "Aimee wrote this?!?!" Yeah it's like that.
Alright, back to the *headdesk*ing
ta-ta for now!
P7
Saturday, September 11, 2010
9/11/10 Never forget.
Nine years ago today, a nation cried.
We cried for our lost loved ones, we cried for the heroes, we cried for those who had lost, even if we did not lose ourselves, we cried together.
Then we stood up. We helped each other to our feet. We wiped away the tears, and we stood against those who brought us down.
September 11, 2001, I was home sick with a fever. I was 9, in the fourth grade. And didn't really understand. I understood that people were dead, were hurt, when the first plane hit. I had been watching Magic School Bus when out of nowhere, I see this tower, belching fire and smoke, hearing the anchorman keeping his voice under control. I sat in shock for a few moments before going to get Mum up, needing to understand. The news said things like "terrorism", which I didn't understand. I remember hearing her come into the living room and one of the kids was kind of awake,I think it was N. I was entranced by the TV, and just barely saw it and yelled, "Mom, there's another-" as the second plane hit and we both yelped in shock.
The kiddos were little and don't remember. N wasn't even a year old and S was not quite three. I remember being scared for my classmates as I saw the plane in Pennsylvania. I was truly terrified when they showed the Pentagon, knowing it was government and Bandito being in the Navy at the time. I just sat in the floor crying most of the day, getting the jist but not entirely understanding. i kept turning to ask Mum what something meant, only to have my answer muffled with tears.
I watched them fall, feeling the blood rush from my face, knowing there were still people in the buildings, felt a terrible gut-wrench as I knew there were thousands dead.
I went to school the next day after having cried myself to sleep. Everyone was sullen and upset-the teachers really did try to hide what they felt from the kids, to protect us. I remember we made a flag that day, the twelve or so of us in my class. Band that morning dragged on forever, some of us choking and crying during the moment of silence, and unable to play God Bless America, someone bursting into tears every few lines.
When I finally did understand, when I knew what had happened fully, when my questions had been answered, I was angry.
And now we fight.
I remember the Middles asking "Why?" last year on this day. They didn't understand. So Mum and I showed them. They cried too, as they understood.
Now, I watch the images again, remembering how I felt. I pray for those hurt and those we lost.
I remember.
We cried for our lost loved ones, we cried for the heroes, we cried for those who had lost, even if we did not lose ourselves, we cried together.
Then we stood up. We helped each other to our feet. We wiped away the tears, and we stood against those who brought us down.
September 11, 2001, I was home sick with a fever. I was 9, in the fourth grade. And didn't really understand. I understood that people were dead, were hurt, when the first plane hit. I had been watching Magic School Bus when out of nowhere, I see this tower, belching fire and smoke, hearing the anchorman keeping his voice under control. I sat in shock for a few moments before going to get Mum up, needing to understand. The news said things like "terrorism", which I didn't understand. I remember hearing her come into the living room and one of the kids was kind of awake,I think it was N. I was entranced by the TV, and just barely saw it and yelled, "Mom, there's another-" as the second plane hit and we both yelped in shock.
The kiddos were little and don't remember. N wasn't even a year old and S was not quite three. I remember being scared for my classmates as I saw the plane in Pennsylvania. I was truly terrified when they showed the Pentagon, knowing it was government and Bandito being in the Navy at the time. I just sat in the floor crying most of the day, getting the jist but not entirely understanding. i kept turning to ask Mum what something meant, only to have my answer muffled with tears.
I watched them fall, feeling the blood rush from my face, knowing there were still people in the buildings, felt a terrible gut-wrench as I knew there were thousands dead.
I went to school the next day after having cried myself to sleep. Everyone was sullen and upset-the teachers really did try to hide what they felt from the kids, to protect us. I remember we made a flag that day, the twelve or so of us in my class. Band that morning dragged on forever, some of us choking and crying during the moment of silence, and unable to play God Bless America, someone bursting into tears every few lines.
When I finally did understand, when I knew what had happened fully, when my questions had been answered, I was angry.
And now we fight.
I remember the Middles asking "Why?" last year on this day. They didn't understand. So Mum and I showed them. They cried too, as they understood.
Now, I watch the images again, remembering how I felt. I pray for those hurt and those we lost.
I remember.
F%^&#ing forks!!
The title of today's post is for my friend Paris. I'll tell the story in a bit. Paris C. I, love the, crap outta you!
Firstly, I have to apologize because I forgot Calvin, who is my current "love interest". He's freaking adorable. And he lives in Burg, which is pretty close to home. Ha.
So, for the past three summers, I've worked at a boy scout ranch, on a mountain that's pretty much in my backyard. I work in the snack bar at the trading post, which I love because I see everybody and it's tons of fun. Bad part is, we have the longest hours and nacho cheese smells REALLY bad.
Anyway, the first year I worked there, nothing too extraordinary happened. I was trying to fix the doors of an ice freezer (yanno, the type you see outside liquor stores that say ICE all over them?), slammed the door, and busted my hand pretty good. On a side note, I'ma clumsy little fuck gravitationally challenged. I fall down and get hurt a lot. I'm used to it. I don't go anywhere without an ace bandage. So, the next year I work there, I was cleaning the freezer, was actually inside of it, and JUST as I finished up I was attacked by mutant squirrels and fought them off with a shovel stood up too much, bashed the top of my head, and knocked myself out. Now, my supervisor, manager, boss-type lady, Shelly, had been checking on me about every ten minutes and had been nice enough to go and grab me some lunch. Well, while she was out, I was KO'd.
Have I mentioned it was a boy scout ranch/camp? Meaning it's swarming withlittle heathens kids between 10 and 18. I was found by two kids, about 11, who thought I was asleep. I came to a few minutes after they found me with the WORST headache ever. I couldn't even open my eyes. Just as they get me out, Shelly Ma'am comes around the corner, a plate in hand, and goes "What happened?!?"
So they get me inside and the medic comes down. They think I have a concussion and I get my very first neck brace!! My other boss person Bill, is having a minor freak out, but get the ambulance on its way and calls Mum, who has her typicalfire and death rampage, death to who hurt my baby Mommy-freak-out. Anyway, Shelly and Emily Sweeting are taking turns holding my head still and ice on me when the ambulance gets there. They load me up and the paramedic get me all wired up and on a drip and asks me to open my eyes and answer some questions. So, I look at her and somewhere in my brain, somehow, recognition sparks. She asked me where I went to school and I said Ags, then she looked kinda confused and asked what year I was in. Told ehr I was going to be a Senior and then I said "OOooooohh, you're Heffe's moooom." Just like that. Heffe or Jeff was a classmate of mine-funny as hell. Anyway, so yeah, EVERYONE knew I'd had SOME incident at camp when I got home. Fantastic. I should add that the guy I worked in the SB with had a crush on me and was told to go outside, then wouldn't let ANYONE even near the doors, kinda like small terrier bites everybody's ankles. He's a good kid, does dumb stuff sometimes.
So this last year, I was finally in the big girls' cabin-YAAY! So it was Paris and myself, and we had three foreign scouts from China, with an exchange program and they were pretty fun. Ming gave me some awesome patches. Paris and I were pretty mucheach others brains best friends. As for the title, I had been showing some of the kids a game with some plastic knives and still had them in my pocket. In a fit of rabies randomosity, I stuck them in between the two boards of the bench we had outside. As Paris and I go to do laundry one night, we BOTH walk by the knives, look at them, and say, "Oh look! Now we will be safe from sitting down Fucking forks!" As we're walking away, I say, "So, we both just walked past knives and called them forks. We've been living together tooo long, even if its only been like two and a half weeks."
Remarkable injury this year: my pride and my elbow. I was cleaning the freezer (wearing a helmet this time), was leaning in, holding myself with my left arm, when I readjusted and slipped, banging the crap out of my elbow. It was swollen and bruised and real pretty. I couldn't extend it past about 50 degrees. Fantastic.
That freezer's gunna kill me.
Also, if you read Mrs. B.'s blog, she has little faith in me. I've drank. I'll admit it. I've been piss-poor black out drunk in fact. Once, ever. Anyway, I don't drink THAT muchanymore and haven't drank once since I started college. YE OF LITTLE FAITH!
So, TE went to a VB game today, in support of the girls we played with in high school. I went to a VB here and texted my coach, telling her I missed playing. She told me she missed me even more and I cried. Not many teachers can make me cry. Nan can. Mrs. D did once too.
Well, that's really all I've got for today.
Ta-ta for now,
P7
Firstly, I have to apologize because I forgot Calvin, who is my current "love interest". He's freaking adorable. And he lives in Burg, which is pretty close to home. Ha.
So, for the past three summers, I've worked at a boy scout ranch, on a mountain that's pretty much in my backyard. I work in the snack bar at the trading post, which I love because I see everybody and it's tons of fun. Bad part is, we have the longest hours and nacho cheese smells REALLY bad.
Anyway, the first year I worked there, nothing too extraordinary happened. I was trying to fix the doors of an ice freezer (yanno, the type you see outside liquor stores that say ICE all over them?), slammed the door, and busted my hand pretty good. On a side note, I'm
Have I mentioned it was a boy scout ranch/camp? Meaning it's swarming with
So they get me inside and the medic comes down. They think I have a concussion and I get my very first neck brace!! My other boss person Bill, is having a minor freak out, but get the ambulance on its way and calls Mum, who has her typical
So this last year, I was finally in the big girls' cabin-YAAY! So it was Paris and myself, and we had three foreign scouts from China, with an exchange program and they were pretty fun. Ming gave me some awesome patches. Paris and I were pretty much
Remarkable injury this year: my pride and my elbow. I was cleaning the freezer (wearing a helmet this time), was leaning in, holding myself with my left arm, when I readjusted and slipped, banging the crap out of my elbow. It was swollen and bruised and real pretty. I couldn't extend it past about 50 degrees. Fantastic.
That freezer's gunna kill me.
Also, if you read Mrs. B.'s blog, she has little faith in me. I've drank. I'll admit it. I've been piss-poor black out drunk in fact. Once, ever. Anyway, I don't drink THAT much
So, TE went to a VB game today, in support of the girls we played with in high school. I went to a VB here and texted my coach, telling her I missed playing. She told me she missed me even more and I cried. Not many teachers can make me cry. Nan can. Mrs. D did once too.
Well, that's really all I've got for today.
Ta-ta for now,
P7
Friday, September 10, 2010
Bloggity blog blog!
Well, at the persuading of Mrs. B, http://anonlyslightlycrazymama.blogspot.com/ , and Emma, http://ersatzeloquence.blogspot.com/ , I'm writing a blog. Pfft.
So, to start off, what you need to know!
One, read Mrs. B's blog. Pretty much explains WHY I do some of what I do.
Two, I like the letter Q. Its a generally lonely letter and no one else seems to like it. So I use it a lot.
Three, I come from a big family, small town. Not Duggar-esque, but everyone asks if we're Catholic. No, Mum's just fertile and birth control resistant, meaning that we are that Xth% fail rate. But yanno what? I don't care. I like having a big family. Also, there are step-sibs, since Mum and El Bandito (that's mine and S's dad BTW) divorced and married people with two kids each.
Four, there is no four, I'm baking/fighting a fire/at a soup kitchen/teaching/writing/WHATEVS.
Five, I'm a Random Acts of Kindness (RAoK) type. I love doing it.
Six, I don't believe in flaws. I believe in imperfections that make us perfect. We have them because without, we are all grey blobs. Also, Mozilla, you can just stop telling me how to spell grey. GREY GREY GREY! Mum says that's why I'm so accepting of people who are "different". TBH, I don't believe in "different" either. We're all people, and contrary to Tyler Durden, we ARE all beautiful and unique snowflakes. That's just how I see the world, through my super-glued formerly Coke-bottle glasses.
Alright, so that's what's important I guess (haven't done this before, cut me some slack).
So, the name of this blog, The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. Hmm. Well, I have every intention of doing quiet good in the world. I say quiet because I'm terrible with compliments etc. I'm terribly nervous and shy. When people tell me I've done good, I get red and embarrassed and just wanna run-over there. Anyway, enough insecurities. Back to the name. I've been dealt a slightly rough hand. Like, a two of hearts and eight of clubs-you can't really do shit with it, but don't let everyone else think that, and you could just win the whole pot.
Just thought I should mention people in my life, so people know who the hell I'm talking about.
Mrs. B.-Obvs, go read the blog. Makes it kind of obvious.
S (or Bratmeister)-My Bubba. He's my third oldest little brother and a little shit to boot. I raised him good.
N (Or my first twin)-I gotta mention that as Littles (0-5) and kinda Middles (6-12) Mum's kids all look pretty much the same, we just each had something different (I had red hair and dimples, S had a mullet, N had HUGE ASS freckles, R had beautiful golden hair, Lil A had Curly Q hair). Anyway, N looked just like me, Lil A looks just like both of us.
R (Little Man)-Youngest brother, Baby Player if there ever was one. He's adorable and he KNOWS it.
Lil A (or A2 or Goose) Well, I'm Big A so she can't be just A. She's the baby, one of the BIGGESt doofuses I know, (that's why we call her Goose, 'cause since she was like four months old we've called her Silly Goose).
ART-My second oldest step-bro. I can't really call him my "little" brother because he stands at 6' 3" at 15 years old. Anyway, he's a great kid and I love him to pieces.
ARC-My oldest little sister. She is The Ebstie all over again-tomboy thru and thru. Those two were peas in a pod at my HS grad party. ARC also has an odd blood disorder but is coming out on top of it, thankfully.
W-Mr. B's first kid. W lives on the East Coast with his mother and we've never been able to meet him. It's sad and I really wish we could.
Mr. B-My other dad. I don't really call him step-dad 'cause he really is my other dad.
El Bandito-My dad-dad. So much to say and not even room. He's also S's dad. I call him Bandito because 1) I started calling him Papito, made a rhyme about him, and Bandito stuck and 2) he lives in NM and likes to make Mexican food and is one of the whitest dudes I know.
Mrs. Bandito-My stepmom. Yeah, we fought a LOT. Not gunna lie. I once got so mad at her that I...well, I did some stupid stuff, 'cause I figured it was my fault, and all I wanted was for her to like me.
THE EBSTIE-This is my other half. No lie. TE has been my best friend and sister for what, eleven years now? Crap. Anyways, I seriously could not function without her and everyone at home was like "OMG you two are separating?!?!" Our names were even combos from our mothers (and teachers) yelling at us. It was just easier to call us both, since we'd both go anyway.
Mam-Okay, so Mam is like the big sister I never had, and she says I'm like her little sister (since she was the baby). We kind of just adopted each other end of last year-ish and I go over and beat up her husband and play with the kids all the time.
JoZaSaLi-My "nephews and niece", Mam's kids. I love 'em to pieces.
Mimi-She's like my awesome aunt-type person-like a mom, but a sister too. TE and I call her Ma. Anyways, she's taken care of *coughmentallyabused* us since we were little seventh graders, who turned into the kids who stole her car her heart.
MCG-My guardian angel. Srsly. Everyone has to have one, and she's it.
OMG I wrote a lot. Besides, IT'S GAME NIGHT IN MY DORM!
Until I figure a catchy sign-off, ta-ta for now!
P7-A
So, to start off, what you need to know!
One, read Mrs. B's blog. Pretty much explains WHY I do some of what I do.
Two, I like the letter Q. Its a generally lonely letter and no one else seems to like it. So I use it a lot.
Three, I come from a big family, small town. Not Duggar-esque, but everyone asks if we're Catholic. No, Mum's just fertile and birth control resistant, meaning that we are that Xth% fail rate. But yanno what? I don't care. I like having a big family. Also, there are step-sibs, since Mum and El Bandito (that's mine and S's dad BTW) divorced and married people with two kids each.
Four, there is no four, I'm baking/fighting a fire/at a soup kitchen/teaching/writing/WHATEVS.
Five, I'm a Random Acts of Kindness (RAoK) type. I love doing it.
Six, I don't believe in flaws. I believe in imperfections that make us perfect. We have them because without, we are all grey blobs. Also, Mozilla, you can just stop telling me how to spell grey. GREY GREY GREY! Mum says that's why I'm so accepting of people who are "different". TBH, I don't believe in "different" either. We're all people, and contrary to Tyler Durden, we ARE all beautiful and unique snowflakes. That's just how I see the world, through my super-glued formerly Coke-bottle glasses.
Alright, so that's what's important I guess (haven't done this before, cut me some slack).
So, the name of this blog, The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. Hmm. Well, I have every intention of doing quiet good in the world. I say quiet because I'm terrible with compliments etc. I'm terribly nervous and shy. When people tell me I've done good, I get red and embarrassed and just wanna run-over there. Anyway, enough insecurities. Back to the name. I've been dealt a slightly rough hand. Like, a two of hearts and eight of clubs-you can't really do shit with it, but don't let everyone else think that, and you could just win the whole pot.
Just thought I should mention people in my life, so people know who the hell I'm talking about.
Mrs. B.-Obvs, go read the blog. Makes it kind of obvious.
S (or Bratmeister)-My Bubba. He's my third oldest little brother and a little shit to boot. I raised him good.
N (Or my first twin)-I gotta mention that as Littles (0-5) and kinda Middles (6-12) Mum's kids all look pretty much the same, we just each had something different (I had red hair and dimples, S had a mullet, N had HUGE ASS freckles, R had beautiful golden hair, Lil A had Curly Q hair). Anyway, N looked just like me, Lil A looks just like both of us.
R (Little Man)-Youngest brother, Baby Player if there ever was one. He's adorable and he KNOWS it.
Lil A (or A2 or Goose) Well, I'm Big A so she can't be just A. She's the baby, one of the BIGGESt doofuses I know, (that's why we call her Goose, 'cause since she was like four months old we've called her Silly Goose).
ART-My second oldest step-bro. I can't really call him my "little" brother because he stands at 6' 3" at 15 years old. Anyway, he's a great kid and I love him to pieces.
ARC-My oldest little sister. She is The Ebstie all over again-tomboy thru and thru. Those two were peas in a pod at my HS grad party. ARC also has an odd blood disorder but is coming out on top of it, thankfully.
W-Mr. B's first kid. W lives on the East Coast with his mother and we've never been able to meet him. It's sad and I really wish we could.
Mr. B-My other dad. I don't really call him step-dad 'cause he really is my other dad.
El Bandito-My dad-dad. So much to say and not even room. He's also S's dad. I call him Bandito because 1) I started calling him Papito, made a rhyme about him, and Bandito stuck and 2) he lives in NM and likes to make Mexican food and is one of the whitest dudes I know.
Mrs. Bandito-My stepmom. Yeah, we fought a LOT. Not gunna lie. I once got so mad at her that I...well, I did some stupid stuff, 'cause I figured it was my fault, and all I wanted was for her to like me.
THE EBSTIE-This is my other half. No lie. TE has been my best friend and sister for what, eleven years now? Crap. Anyways, I seriously could not function without her and everyone at home was like "OMG you two are separating?!?!" Our names were even combos from our mothers (and teachers) yelling at us. It was just easier to call us both, since we'd both go anyway.
Mam-Okay, so Mam is like the big sister I never had, and she says I'm like her little sister (since she was the baby). We kind of just adopted each other end of last year-ish and I go over and beat up her husband and play with the kids all the time.
JoZaSaLi-My "nephews and niece", Mam's kids. I love 'em to pieces.
Mimi-She's like my awesome aunt-type person-like a mom, but a sister too. TE and I call her Ma. Anyways, she's taken care of *coughmentallyabused* us since we were little seventh graders, who turned into the kids who stole
MCG-My guardian angel. Srsly. Everyone has to have one, and she's it.
OMG I wrote a lot. Besides, IT'S GAME NIGHT IN MY DORM!
Until I figure a catchy sign-off, ta-ta for now!
P7-A
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