Hola, bonjour, and bonjourno!

Good afternoon, bloggity-followers! I hope you are all doing swimmingly.

Today, I am nearly finished Christmas shopping. I have but two items remaining to purchase, and I believe I will head to Kohl's and fight the masses in order to purchase them. In other news, I had a scrumptious dinner with my parents at The Twisted Fork last night. I do highly recommend the restaurant for moderately-priced, interesting takes on old favorites. There's a little something to excite every palate- I personally selected a lamb sirloin burger with tzatziki sauce and a cappuccino truffle for dessert. Twas delish. Our server, Chad, was very amusing. If you go to this restaurant and would rather have a laugh than fast service, he's the one for you!

Thought of the day: there is a thin line between love and hate. We only hate people we care enough about to be hurt by.

Tcaio, lovely ones!

Poem-type Thing

Word Exercises

Cat stares out the window at a
Cool Guy walking with a
Woman, down the street.
Are they in love?
A rose grows nearby-
A flower, looking at the various
Fauna.
Does it know Latin?
Can it comprehend Greek?
Like the architecture of the city that curls around.
Build! Build! Bigger-
Brick by brick, the contractors turn the world into
Mud brown, no longer blue and green.

Cool Guy tomorrow
Doesn’t notice the sun.
Cher plays in his ears,
Pop strains blurring the world.
A bottle lies on the street. Leaves it.
A fly lands on his finger. Brushes it off.
Airplanes float in
The sky, unnoticed-
Dark clouds drift by, unseen.
As the weather changes, bolts of
Lightning pierce the atmosphere, bright
Gold in their glory, leaving
Silver streaks before his eyes

Silver
Like the hair of aging Society Women
They know the truth.
Innocence is purity.
So sad it is for the jaded crowds that
Loneliness always equals
Emptiness.
An equation that adds up to
Lives not full of the substantial.
And for this, our future is unclear-
Almost like glass, when broken
We’ve shattered.

Haiku (The Further Adventures of the Rat)

Why does mankind hate?

I am but a low rat, yet

I do not hate men.

The Start of a Story

Fwoer had been walking a few paces behind his older brother, Duenne, when he was grabbed by the collar and roughly shoved behind a bush.

"Ooof! That hurts! Let go! Owww!" Fwoer shook his body viciously, trying to deflect his attacker. He even flailed his arms about, hoping he might by some miracle be able to knock his attacker in the face. But he was an awfully small boy, only ten summers old, and he was weak.

“Quiet!” The attacker had a raspy voice. Fwoer swiveled his head to take a look at him, which would have been easier to do if his upper body wasn't wrapped tight by one huge arm. Fwoer's attacker was very tall and had a large stomach which protruded absurdly from the center of his otherwise proportional and muscular frame. The man was cloaked in roomy garments of thick black canvas, as if to hide his stomach, but they just made it so Fwoer couldn’t really see much more of his body; the stomach remained clearly outlined.

“Why,” the attacker grunted, “were you traveling the Queen’s PRIVATE road?”

“Well, Sir, I didn't know that it was her road, exactly. You see, I can explain. I was here because I had to get to...ummm...I’m sorry, mister." Fweor stammered, hoping to be interrupted. In truth, he couldn't explain. He was most certainly on the road illegally.

"Call me Gieo. Since you find it so utterly amusing to trod other people’s roads, you'll have no problem with a trip to the Queen for sentencing." Gieo stared right into his prisoner’s face.

"Gieo? In my travels, I encountered another person along this here PRIVATE road. I think I know where he is. Wouldn't the Queen be proud if you could bring two vagabonds?" Fwoer stared intently back at Gieo.

"Well…I’d have to, you see, I'd need to, well, I would be expected to…handcuff you!" Gieo was self-satisfied. A real policeman indeed. The Queen wasn't wrong about him, no way, surely she knew what she was doing. He was made for law enforcement. He loosened his grip on the boy and reached for the handcuffs in his pocket.

“But of course. Let us be on our way, then. The other vagabond, Duenne, may be gone by now. He moves fast. We ought to run.” And, just like that, Fwoer took off as quickly as he could. Gieo tried to follow him, but Fwoer moved considerably faster- his birth gift had been speed. Gieo’s was brute strength, perhaps useful in a fight with a bear, but completely worthless against a gazelle.

Fwoer finally slowed down once he could hear his brother calling his name.

"Calm down, Duenne. I’m over here." He quickly nestled himself in a briar bush so it would appear that he had fallen.

Letter to You

This is a letter to you. You will likely never read it, but that's all right. I just know I had to write it. First, I love you. I am very glad you're alive. You can be mad at me forever and I will never regret helping to save your life. You know, I prayed to a God I'm not even sure I believe in for you. I did everything I knew to do, and it must have worked, because here you are. I wrote a poem for you, love.

Step back from that ledge, my dear-

Can't you see we need you here?

In a world that's full of hurt and pain,

Can't you see we're all the same?

You never really can escape,

No matter what dark road you take.

So stay here and join the dance

I'm only asking that you give it a chance.

Alas, alack, you're still not free-

But I'm relieved that you're still here with me.

This life is how it was meant to be,

And if you stay, I know you'll see

That a day of love is worth a year of pain

And life is something you can't regain

But if you choose to yourself reclaim

I'll be with you, one and the same.

Stuff That Everyone But Me Likes

I began listing in my head yesterday all the things that I dislike, soon realizing that half of this list consisted of things other people like very well. Thus, this post was born. Eventually this list will be followed up with Stuff No One But Me Likes, such as the number 36, my favorite number, and also the number of items on this somewhat indignant and highly irrelevant list. Enjoy.

1. Spaghetti
2. Perogies
3. Overly simplistic writing
4. Summer weather
5. Soup
6. Bella Swann
7. Bacon and cheese, atop anything that isn’t bacon or cheese
8. Silence
9. “Bless your heart”
10. Babies
11. Unnecessary capitalization
12. Underusage of commas
13. Golden Corral
14. Long fingernails
15. Cultural relativism
16. Giving or receiving driving directions
17. Candy corn
18. Romance
19. Hijabs
20. “Talking” as a relationship status
21. Gas stations
22. Bad French accents
23. Grits
24. Roman-numeraled watches
25. Trickle-down economics
26. People who “hate lawyers”
27. Tiny dogs
28. Tiny handbags
29. Throw pillows
30. English history
31. Parenthetical remarks
32. "Irregardless"
33. Euphemism
34. Soft mattresses
35. Australian accents
36. Oprah's book club

Character Traits

My school has blue papers posted in every classroom (by countywide mandate) listing Character Traits. I feel the need to share a few of them with you, readers, as they are muchos très humorous.

RESPONSIBILITY
Being dependable in carring (sic) out obigations (sic) and duties. Showing reliability and consistency in words and conduct. Being accountable for your own actions. Being committed to active involvement in your community.

So…it is responsible to spell atrociously and to use sentence fragments profusely. I must add that consistency is neccessarily a good thing. If someone is consistently stupid, or food from a particular restaraunt tastes consistently bad, this does not make the idiot or crappy restaraunt extraordinarily responsible. Responsibility is thus NOT a synonym for consistency.

FAIRNESS
Practicing justice, equity, and equality. Cooperating with one another. Recognizing the uniqueness and value of each individual within our diverse society.

I feel as if someone had a thesaurus and looked up “fairness”. Fairness: justice, equity, equality.

Since when is cooperating an important part of fairness? If a judge “cooperates” with the man on trial, does that make the ruling more fair? It sounds illegal to me…
Also. What does diversity have to do with fairness? Being culturally relative in one’s approach to situations in no way makes that approach more fair. For example- giving preferential treatment in court to minorities does not make the court more just. I agree that we should recognize uniqueness, but not because it is fair. It is in fact, unfair, to treat people who are unique differently. In the fairest of worlds, everyone would be treated the same, in effect de-emphasizing the uniqueness of our diverse society.

HONESTY
Being accountability (sic) and truthful in words and actions. Telling the truth and admitting wrongdoing. Being trustworthy and acting with integrity.

Being accountability. I believe this speaks for itself.
I’m glad that telling the truth AND admitting wrongdoing are on here, as they are obviously not the same thing. Thank you, Johnston County Schools, Department of Inspirational Propaganda.

On another note, no one informed the authors that some Character Traits are not positive. Just because something is an aspect of someone's personality, does not make it something to strive for. The Character Traits posters should be more accurate. Where's the SADISM poster? The NARCISSISM poster? The APATHY poster? No one informed the authors, either, that they should never have given up their day jobs for inspirational writing.

New Moon

Let's talk about New Moon! I choose to impart to you, lovely readers, today, my own personal critiques of my favorite scenes from this stellar film experience.

Edward's Entrance: This was by far the best part of the movie. As he glides in vampirically, his shirt flaps about in the wind and his copper-wire hair ripples like waves of grain. While the twelve-year-old girls scream, I realize that nowhere else in the scene is there wind. Edward Cullen, Sex God, creates his own wind. In the words of the friend I dragged along with me, "The wind is produced by a hole in his head, obviously. All the hot air is leaking out".

The Dramatic Scene with Bella and Jacob and Edward Where She May Have to Choose Between Them: This produced many lulz. As Kristen Stewart holds her "I'm so stressed and yet so beautiful" face, looking from the vampire man to the wolf man and back again, she delivers my favorite line of the movie. "Don't make me choose, Jacob. Because it will be him." It seems to me that she has already chosen. Huh. Also, the deadpan way in which she says this is priceless.

I find Bella to be one of the most annoying literary characters I have ever encountered. She's whiney, needy, immature, negative, and above all, selfish. Usually, I like annoying literary characters, as I am always seeking out flawed individuals to whom I can relate. Characters with no issues are boring. No one wants to read a book where the first line is "There once was a girl with no problems". Oh, wait, isn't that a Jane Austen book?

Yes, I remember now..."Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her. " This is why Jane Austen novels do not appeal to me.

Back to Bella. Bella, as a character, is entirely unappealing. I don't find her interesting in the way most flawed people are, as her issues are not at all out of her control. She could choose to see the glass half-full or to be less clingy. She could choose to think about people other than herself, and yet she doesn't. I realize that many, many girls identify with her. And to those girls I say this: you don't have to be like that! Just because one annoying, childish girl got the man of her dreams in one fictional series, does not mean you should see this as a rule. It is not a rule. From my limited experience with men, I can say that high-maintainence is not appealing. Neither is whining. Nor is "I would die without you".

In closing, the movie was amusing. I highly reccommend it, especially if seen with one's most cynical friends in a theatre full of screaming schoolgirls.

Reader's Corner

I did not go to my favorite used bookstore today, but if I had gone, this is how I imagine my day would have been:

As I approach the used bookstore, my eyes rest on many shelves outside its doors, full to bursting with books. It’s as if the store was so full inside that its doors swung open and the excess books flowed out like a flood. I push open the creaky wooden door and am at once transported from the bright, loud afternoon into a dimly lit, quiet, calm haven.

The store smells like history. I turn instinctively to my right and slowly move down a long aisle lined with horror novels. First the Stephen King books, H.P. Lovecraft, then Dean Koontz (or Arkoontz, or R. Koontz, I’m never quite certain). The aisle darkens as I reach the end. A sharp, tight turn to my left and a wider, brighter aisle opens up. This is one of the three main hallways of the store. It leads me to the art books. I perch in a dusty art-deco style egg chair, the only seat available. I’m sure it was purchased for $3 at a yard sale some twenty years ago. I crack open a heavy book that had been sitting on top of a stack on the floor.

The rest of my afternoon is spent with M.C. Escher, Georgia O’Keefe, and Vincent Van Gogh. I am absorbed by images of places I will never go and people I will never meet. Colors jump off the pages and subjects seem to speak directly to me.

Several hours later, I pull myself out of the egg chair and place the books back on the floor. I walk down the center aisle of the store, passing the checkout counter without buying anything, but feeling no guilt. Behind the counter sits a young man with blue hair and too many piercings. He gives me a smile and a nod as I pass bins of records. I open the wooden door and step out of my haven and into a world full of noise and devoid of art.

The Saga Commences

Reasons for the existence of this blog:
-Peer pressure

-A need for attention

-Boredom

-Too much to say and nowhere to say it

-An overinflated sense of self worth

And now for the actual writing.

Human beings are strange creatures. It seems as if we spend our whole lives wanting to feel something. Anything. Love is pain. And yet, we yearn for it like nothing else. We want nothing more than the approval of people who are only looking for approval themselves.

Today, my house was engulfed in the vomit of several million reindeer. There is glitter partout, and I fear I shall never be able to remove the tinsel from the mantelpiece. A multicolored, glowing plastic imitation tree stands proudly in the corner, laden with garish bits of memories. At first glance, it is covered in random crap. At second glance, it is still covered in random crap. And yet, everything that adorns its synthetics boughs holds a meaning. Each piece represents a time and a place. Not all of the memories are happy-- many of them are sad. But they're sad in that nostalgic way that's almost happy. That "I remember those days! I'm so glad we're where we are now and not where we were then...but I remember those days," way.

My friend worries about me. He knows I am nursing a broken heart, and thus has decided to make me cookies. I don't know if one can mail baked goods, but I wish him luck in this delicious endeavor. Speaking of mail! I received my acceptance to Pitt yesterday. My father will be heartbroken. If he had it his way, I would have applied to UNC and no other school, as it is obviously the only university on the planet. For a brilliant scientist, he can be frightfully dense. Speaking of dense rationalists... How is it that the smartest people are also the dumbest? Those who seem to know everything often turn out to know nothing at all. "Social intelligence," my roommate from this summer would say. "Some have it, some don't."