Honest Scrap and Last BEDA

Today is the LAST DAY OF BEDA.

Don't worry, though. I still plan on blogging regularly with the same sort of delightful topics and thoughts that I have been all month.

Elena gave me The Honest Scrap Award!

"The HonestScrap award comes with a caveat or two. Firstly, you have to tell your readers ten things about you they may not know, but that are true. Secondly, you have to tag 10 people with the award.”

1. When I watch America's Next Top Model (as I am right now) I often make model faces and pretend I am being photographed/do catwalks down the hallway.

2. In sixth grade, I was the only girl in my advanced track math class.

3. I like to wear dresses, though I don't often get the chance to wear them or shop for them.

4. When I sing the song Don't Let Me Down by The Beatles, I always think I sound good, even when I really sound like crap.

5. I always say that I want to live in New York, but, sometimes I doubt my ability to live in such a big city.

6. If I ever got the chance to pursue a career as a singer, I would go for it FULL ON.

7. If I ever got the chance to pursue a career as an actor, I would go for it FULL ON.

8. I often proclaim my hate for music from the 90s, but, the honest truth is that I'll listen to any music that you put in front of me. There are songs I don't love, but, rare is the song that I truly hate. The fact the the 60s are my favorite decade for music is still true, though.

9. I love pointless arguments, such as Unicorns vs. Zombies

10. When I am alone and doing mindless chores, I often pretend that members of old bands from the 60s are there with me, cracking jokes and junk.

Seeing as how I have 5 followers, I don't really feel like tagging ten people when more than half of them wouldn't even see it. If you are reading this, I tag you?

The Cube

As you are sitting and reading this, my loyal followers, I want you to follow my instructions. This works better in person, but, I don't really want to track you all down and make each of you do it in person.

It's called The Cube.

Keep in mind that there are no right or wrong answers.

Also keep in mind that this is ripped off of nerimon's (Alex Day) video. If you'd rather watch someone tell and explain it in almost the same words I am about to, then watch this instead.



First, I want you to picture a desert landscape. Just a desert, it doesn't really matter about the specifics.

Then, you have to picture a cube. It can be any size, any shape, any color. How it moves, if it moves, what it's made of. It doesn't matter, just picture a cube on the desert landscape that's already in your mind.

Third, visualize a ladder. Picture where it is in relation to the cube, how big the ladder is, and things like that.

Fourth, picture a horse. Any size, any color, where it is in relation to the cube and things like that.

Fifth, there is a storm. Picture where it is and stuff.

(Can you tell I am getting lazy as I am going on and typing this?)

Finally, there are some flowers. Picture what kind of flower and what color and things like that, like you have done for everything else.

As you could have guessed, all of these things are symbolic. Do not read on from here if you haven't done it, because you'll never be able to do it once you know what it means. Alright? Alright, moving on.










The Cube is supposed to represent you.

The Ladder represents friends.

The Horse is a lover or someone that you love.

The Storm represents trouble.

The Flowers are supposed to be children.


My cube was a really dark purple color and it was floating in midair in the center of the landscape.

My ladder was one of those older-type wooden ladders and it was standing up on its own, to the right of the cube.

My horse was to the left and closer to the foreground. It was white and stood stationary.

My storm was not present in the landscape at all. It was far away and could not be seen.

My flowers were small and red with yellow centers. They were in a small garden box to the right of the horse.


If you do decide to do this exercise, tell me with a comment what your landscape ended up looking like.

How are you supposed to sneak around in a BRIGHT ORANGE JUMPSUIT?

I know a kid.

Well, I know a lot of kids, but, that's not the point.

I know a kid named Matt.

He loves Naruto.

I hate Naruto.

NINJAS DON'T WEAR ORANGE, DAMMIT.

But, I love Matt.

The question is: should I forgive Naruto for dressing inappropriately and Matt for loving a stupid ninja?

Or should I go on hating the stupid little ninja and arguing the ridiculousness of it all?

The other option is to stop complaining about things that, overall, don't impact me significantly.

Peepers

It is brutally hot today. I went with my mom to drive my sister to work. It was 99 degrees.

I could blog about the heat that is slowly leaking into every corner of my being and sucking away my life essence. But, to blog about it only gives it strength it does not deserve.

Instead! I will be reviewing Peepers reading glasses.

At the library at which I volunteer, there is a stand of ladies' reading glasses on the front desk. They all have very colorful designs that pop. They are called Peepers. I fell in love with the display as soon as I read the slogan: "All women created equal...then they accessorize!"

I absolutely love the glasses and the company's slogan. For some reason, I just always get a kick out of ads (such as the one seen above, which is the actual picture on the stand at the library) where people treat day to day things as if they are miracles.

Honestly, things like this really do make me want the glasses.

That makes me sound odd.

The glasses have fun patterns and and and...

Yeah, there's really no excuse for a 14 year old wanting reading glasses targeted at older women. No excuse at all. But, I love them anyway. I mean, just look at the website: http://www.peeperspecs.com/ SO MUCH FUN!

All women created equal...then they accessorize!

Walt

I like Walt Whitman.

Some may say that this has something to do with the fact that his poems play a key role in John Green's book Paper Towns.

Some may say that it's because I have an obsession with poetry.

Some may be right.

I don't know what it is about writing poetry. I feel like it's like being in the author's head. At that moment when you write the poem, you are spilling all of your thoughts on the page.

I like that feeling, both in writing and in reading poems.

If you haven't seen it already, my writing blog is at http://cardboardplayground.com

I write a lot of poetry there. I write a lot of prose there. I write a lot.

Pretty

From my house, you can see the lake that I live next to.

Some days, I just sit and look at it and marvel at the prettiness of it. Even when the water is all choppy or there's ice all over, it's super gorgeous. Sometimes in the morning or late at night, you can see this eerie fog hanging over it. Even that's pretty.

Today, I am sitting on my laptop on my deck and looking down through the trees at the prettiness of the lake.

Right now, it's getting to be dark outside. The clouds, which were really white and puffy earlier, are now a slightly darker shade of blue then the sky around it. The sun is already set, but, the moon and the stars aren't quite out.

I like to watch the outside like this. In limbo between night and day. Something about it is just so pretty.

Ramen

Grass is grown to be cut down.

My class trip is coming up soon. We had a class meeting about it. It would be, like, going to our state capital and then a zoo or something. It simply baffles me that teachers still think that field trips to to zoo are a good idea. Maybe in 6th grade, but... Yeah.

It's just going to end up being a lot of yelling and crap. And there's this one girl I know who I hope to god doesn't go.

I really want to go with Ali and Jon. But, that might depress me as well.

TTFSMIF, I suppose.

Marmee

I took a walk yesterday. I stayed around where I live, walking along the empty road with only my phone. Living where I do, this tends to be both peaceful at times and scary. The scenery is beautiful, but, the people are definitely not.

I was texting a friend of mine with my phone and we talked a lot about guys. I'm just getting to know her now, and she's turning out to be a pretty great person. She's very pretty and a very good singer. She's hilarious and has a great personality. It sucks that next year she'll be graduating. Sucks for me, anyway. I know she's going to go on to do awesome things.

It started raining as soon as I got to my driveway. I sprinted down it and up my stairs so that I was panting when I got inside. It felt good to get fresh air in my lungs and even though it was o nly sprinkling, the rain was envigorating as well.

My advice to readers: take more walks and make more friends. You might find yourself surprised by both.

Hero

And to your left, you will observe my hero, John green, "angelically lit and ambiguously gendered." His hair isn't as blond anymore and he's not as into wearing dresses.

He wrote some pretty fantastic books called Looking for Alaska, An Abundance of Katherines, and Paper Towns. I love all three books and the characters in them dearly.

John Green inspires me as a writer and as a person. He makes me want to write great books, go great places, and do great things when I read his work or watch him travel on YouTube or hear about him donating to charity.

When I look at this picture on the left, it never ceases to amaze me that that little tiny man grew up to be a person I want to be. You know. Minus the penis.

I told him that. That I wanted to be exactly what he was. He called me awesome. Which basically made my life about a thousand times over. I told him that he restored my faith in humanity. He laughed and signed my book and told me that Nerdfighters did the same thing for him, so I technically did the same thing for him. Again, this statement made my life a thousand times over.

On YouTube, John and his brother Hank have a channel. Search 'vlogbrothers'

If you don't know what a Nerdfighter is, go here: www.nerdfighters.com


Left to Right: Hank Green, Julia Bydulia, John Green

Can you see that magic sparkle in my eyes?

How I Am

http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/l/littlewomenlyrics/howiamlyrics.html

Professor Bhaer (reads from a letter, spoken):

'And how are you, sir?'

(Sung)
She asks how I am.
And so: how am i?
My days are the usual days.
I wake up, I go out.
Time goes by.
My days are exactly the days I have lived since arriving here.
In fact, how I am is amazed how this comforts me year by year.
I work and I eat.
Life is muffins and jam.
The house is nice and quiet now.
That is how I am.

Five years in these rooms reading Hegel and Kant.
My mind is devoted to thoughts of the meaning of life.
What more could I want?
So why is it lately I find I'm uneasy all through the night?
And why even now does my skin feel explosive as dynamite?
Why does my heart pound like a battering ram?
How can she ask me how I am?
How I am is fine!

(Begins to write a letter back)

' Dear Miss March, there is nothing dramatic or new to report.
This will be short.
Morning and evening I live in my usual way.
On the day you return you will see for yourself!
Tell me, Miss March, are you happy so far from the clang and the beat of our turbulent street?
Quite often I think of our days in New York.
Though of course since you went I have quite content.'

(Rips the letter up)

ACH!
I wake up in the morning and all that I hear is the absence of sound.
Yes!
My peace is disturbed but the ruckus is me as my thought run aground.
I wanted a life by myself in these rooms.
But now all around me another life looms.
Who asked her to come and go and to leave me like that?
And now she expects me to send her a note?
With words, if I spoke, that would stick in my throat!
Who asked her to change how I live, how I think, how I am?

She asks how I am.
How can I reply?
I go through my daily routine.
I give lessons, I wait.
Time goes by.
Yet lately I find there is pleasure in humming a silly tune.
And some days I go to the park and I sit there all afternoon.
Some evenings I swear I can hear a door slam.
The house is far to quiet now.
That is how I am.

I like spaghetti. Isn't that exciting?

Not much to say, really. I thought a lot, today. About things I probably shouldn't think about. It's weird how easily thoughts can wander. I think I'm getting better at filtering the thoughts I verbalize.

Some things are meant to be, the tide turning endlessly,
the way it takes hold of me, no matter what I do,
and some things will never die, the promise of who you are,
the memories when I am far from you.
All my life, I've lived for loving you; let me go now.

Smoky Clouds

Today was the set tear down. I got to see Ryan again. I'm glad I did, even though he threw mud and salsa at me.

It feels like I tore apart a piece of me. I loved that set.

futureme.org is a super cool site.

Not much to say today. I feel sad and weird. I feel a bit off from my normal self.

It's raining.

It was raining earlier, too. I watched Ryan smoke in the parking lot. I got really wet and really cold. I'm probably going to write about it.

Here Alone

Today was the last day of my play.

It's an odd feeling to end the play. I've spent every night for the last two weeks doing nothing but Little Women. Now, I have to go back to having no life after school.

I'll miss a kid named Ryan, who came back to our school just to help with the play after graduating two years back. I'm going to miss him because he's not going to be around the school. I'll probably never even see him again. It seems like the play went too fast. During Oliver! (the play I did in 7th grade, when Ryan was a senior and still went to our school) I never really talked to Ryan. I was a much younger kid and I was very intimidated by all of the seniors. This year, I talked to him quite a bit. When we got in our circle before each show, I held his hand. We joked together. I mean, it's not like we had some extraordinary connection. I'll just miss the hell out of him. He's very hilarious and very talented. And, I'll be honest, attractive and irresponsible.

I love to perform. I wish I could do it every weekend. I feel a strange, empty sensation now that it's gone. I have to wait until next year to do another play. I love that stage. I don't even want to think about my senior year.

I wish I could spend every week with this cast. It's making me so sad that some of them are leaving. I wish we could all stay together, as we are. Strong, like a fortress.

BEDA Buddies

This is a shout out to my new BEDA Buddies: Jacquelyn, Ami, and Becky! Holla atcha boi!!

Am I not gangster enough for that?

Oh, well.

Last night, opening night was fantastic! Almost no one messed up their lines at all. Mostly, when things did mess up we did our best to cover it. I heard the audience cheer and laugh a lot, which is always good.

There was one glitch.

About a quarter way through the show, the curtain jammed completely. It took at fifteen to twenty minutes to get it working again, and that was after dragging out a huge ladder and sending our chorus director up to the top of the curtain to unjam it.

One of our cast members is a graduate of our school who came back to play the part when we didn't get enough guys to sign up. When he found out the curtain was jammed, he went to the chorus room and cracked open some iced tea, offering it to anyone who wasn't helping with the curtain.

I had a lot of fun the entire time. I barely stressed over anything (except for the fact that no one would leave me alone about my pants. So I'm wearing jeans. Can't do anything about it as I am waiting to go onstage, can I?)

Our lead senior did a fantastic job and so did all of the sisters. (ELENA: My sister specifically made a comment about what a great job you did. I didn't even have to bring you up for her to say that the young Amy did awesome!)

After the show, I mingled with the audience in my costume and got a billion hugs and "Great jobs!" which made me feel great. I love that my friends showed up.

I'm really glad I get to do this for two more nights. I almost don't want it to end.

If you wasted your life on luck, I would still love you

Opening night is tonight. Just mentioning it because it's sort of important to me. It's irrelevant to this blog post, though.

I never understood why people would think that a certain profession is sexy or attractive. There will always be ugly doctors, or teachers, or pizza boys. In fact, that last one is definitely ridiculous. Have you ever actually seen a pizza boy you would have random sex with? Come on, porn! Get real!

Things like this occur to me often.

Another thing that occurs to me is that I suck at keeping my mouth closed. I never remember when people tell me not to say things. And I am NOT graceful. I rammed into a teacher today on my way to buy some Cheetos.

I guess a lot of life is just luck. If you're really lucky, you will find the world's one and only hot pizza boy. If you're lucky, you'll never say the wrong thing at the wrong time. (Is there ever a right time to say the wrong thing?) If you're lucky, you can buy Cheetos without embarrassing yourself.

I guess I just have another brand of luck.

I have luck that gives me cute guys to stare at (and stare at and stare at and stare at until my eyes fall out) with almost no negative outcome (or positive, really). And the luck that gives me friends who forgive me when I mess things up horribly. And luck that lets me only hit into teachers who don't know me.

Viel Glueck.

Lights, Camera...Action!

Tomorrow is the first night of Little Women, the musical my school is putting on.

If you have never heard of Little Women the musical (like I hadn't when my chorus director announced we would perform it) and you doubt that a musical about a book written about Louisa May Alcott can be entertaining and awesome, YOU ARE WRONG.

Some may say I am biased because I am in the musical, but, I honestly do not think it is true. The songs are awesome, the characters are charming...I love this musical. And the fabulous cast we have.

Standing backstage in the dark--this is going to sound weird, but, I always feel sort of like the wings are a great big womb, and the auditorium is the cast's collective mother, and as we step onstage each of us is reborn into our role. It's an amazing feeling to step on stage and have people hear you and see you and watch you. Even if it's just your friends laughing at a face you make before you get ready to rehearse, or a certain boy you love the most in the whole world sitting in the pit watching you practice and dance. I love being on stage.

Connor

I know a kid named Connor.

He is a short little thing with blond hair and snazzy glasses. He likes to talk about random, dark, gloomy things. A lot.

One day, while the two of us were sitting in Spanish class, he decided he had something to tell me. Instead of a) waiting for the teacher to finish talking, b) whispering my name discretely, c) writing me a note, or d) all of the above, he decided that tapping my arm about six dozen times until I had to yell at him to stop was a much better idea.

This incident has occurred many a time.

Connor and I are good friends. We talk on the phone. We have classes together.

But, if he continues to tap my arm in a fashion similar to that of a woodpecker, I might have to show him what's what.

Lovely light

I've been writing a lot.

I'm writing at least one poem for or about everyone I care about. It's going to take a while, since I care about quite a few people.

It's not as if the people I care about more will get more poems. It's just if inspiration strikes more than once, I'll write that person more than one.

Then, I want to put them all into a book and let them all read it.

I think it's a cool idea now, but, we'll see how it actually works out. I care about a whole lot of people.


My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I have loved this poem ever since I stumbled upon it about two years ago.

It makes me think.

Maybe I think too much.

Do you ever think something and then wonder if what you thought is even true? I can't quite explain the sensation, but, it's been happening to me. I don't know if I am lying to myself or if I just think things randomly. Just because something pops into your head, does that mean that it is how you feel?

How many people before me have yearned for the things I now yearn for? How many of them succeeded? How many more can have these things, if they are already being taken? Will there be a shortage of the solutions to peoples dreams? Can dreams go into a recession?

Maybe I think too much.

I'll stop and I'll go shave my legs or something. That sounds like a plan.

I can't liiiive if living is without you (Harry sighting!)

This whole Blog Every Day in April thing is killing me.

I think I fell in love yesterday in the morning. Her name is Danielle.

http://tinyurl.com/turkeyclub

You should check her out.

I think I might want to write something today. Maybe I'll add more to my story at my writing journal. Or maybe I'll work on that thing with me mum. Who knows? Wherever the day takes me, she will take me.

For now, I'll make a list. A list of things I love in no particular order:
-When people who you doubt end up being awesome
-Making a friend in someone who was once an acquaintance
-Trying to write a song when it is inevitable that you will never finish
-Listening to people who put their heart and soul on YouTube
-Brainstorms
-My mom (seriously)
-Getting an extra day off from school
-When jeans fit me well (which is a rare occurrence)
-Typing random things after tinyurl.com/_____ and seeing what you find
-You

cardboard playground & little struggles

My friend Elena inspired me to start a writing jounral, in case you are interested: http://cardboardplayground.blogspot.com/

I volunteered at the library. It was my second time volunteering, so, I wasn't expecting it to be so great, but, I was pleasantly surprised by the request that I work in the YA section. Immediately, I wondered if they had any John Green or Maureen Johnson books. The librarian (a very sweet woman in a jazzy flower print shirt) asked me to shift some of the books to make room on the shelves. I love doing work like that. It's fun for me to spend two hours in a quiet library moving books without having to concentrate on anything else.

They had all three of John Green's books and I noticed 13 Little Blue Envelopes, which was the first Maureen Johnson book I read. It's always cool to see your favorite books on shelves, at stores or at libraries, so that was actually pretty fun. There were other books I recognized too. I'm not sure what it is about just seeing a book I know, but, I always get excited. It was just Mark Twain, which you see most anywhere, but, I was still excited.

When I finished, my mom came to pick me up with my dad and my sister in the car. We all went up to the mall to eat. At the food court, there was a pair of girls. They looked around eleven years old. One looked very bubblegum with blonde hair, pink flip flops and a very girly girl shirt. The other had her hair died a very dark red and was obviously trying to dress to impress and live up to the change of her hair. I turned to my mom at the table and just whispered flat out "I think I hate those girls." The tiny little bubblegum girly had an Arby's sandwich that was about as big as her head! "That's it," I told my mom, "they're getting blogged!" I find it so frustrating the way this generation is acting. Why do these girls have to ruin it for those of us who want to be ourselves and live our lives without worrying about Ugg boots or hairstyles? Why?

After that, we dropped Ruth off at work, then we went shopping for some Easter candy and some clothes for myself. I bought some new brown flats that will serve as shoes for one of my scene's in Little Women and a few pairs of jeans. I bought one pair too small on purpose, because I plan to fit into them...sooner or later. The other two pairs I didn't try on, which was my own mistake. I assumed they would fit, but, they don't. It's times like these that I struggle in my own head over my weight. On one hand, I honestly do not want to be skinny. I've always bee overweight and I like my stomach, but, it does get in the way when I want to buy new clothes. I got very upset when I got home and the pants didn't fit. My dad is going to take them back for me, which I appreciate.

I'm home, now. Kicking back with some Gertrude Hawk Smidgens and my family, watching some special on IFC. This post is getting quite long. I'll stop here.

A Previous Generation

Yesterday was a good day.

I hung out with my grandpa for most of it. I can't particularly explain my grandpa in a way that will convey his utter awesome. I think that my favorite things are that his stories aren't boring and he loves to sing show tunes.

I think that the best part was when my older brother met my grandpa for the first time. It's a pretty long story, but, it was exciting to see them interact and to see my nephew meet his great grandpa.

Not much to say right now, honestly. I am going to volunteer again today. And my grandpa is going back to New Jersey (where he is visiting from) today.

Maybe I'll blog again later, if I have anything good to say.

God, I love rainbows

What if you had been taught the colors differently than the people around you?

Like, what if someone asked you what color Snow White's hair is and you said green? Not because you were stupid but because someone taught you that the name of what most people call black was green. And they taught you that the name of what most people call green was black.

You could say that colors are almost essential simply to day-to-day life. Someone who had been taught their colors incorrectly would be at a serious disadvantage.

You could be trying to meet someone at Barnes & Noble's:

You: Where are you?
Someone: I'm at the cafe. I've got my blue blouse on.
You: Ok, I'll come find you.
(Twenty minutes later, you find them.)
You: What the hell? That blouse is yellow!
Someone: ...Are you stupid?

For something just as simple as meeting a friend, it could end up disastrous.

And have you ever tried to describe a color to someone? Right now, I dare you to try and describe the color red. You could try to use examples of things that are red, but, with most any color not all of those things are always red. Like, there are green apples as well. I usually go for describing them with feelings. Like, red can be anger or love or passion. Blue is sadness or serenity. Green is envy.

Common association makes somethings easier, but, some people might not know the saying "Green with envy." It would be like taking a trip to China and bringing an English to Russian dictionary.

PS. Do you like my lovely picture?

NATIONAL CHANGE YOUR NAME DAY MAKES ME RECONSIDER MY PERSONAL IDENTITY AND THE IDENTITY OF THE PEOPLE AROUND ME

Happy National Change Your Name Day, everyone. I have decided to change my name to Sally Joy. Do you like? I like. I actually stole it from one Peter Dennis Blanford Townshend. It's from the Who song I'm a Boy. I just sang a few bars for the beautiful people here in the chorus room who are at play practice with me and they think it to be quite shocking.

Elena is sitting next to me on her very own computer, blogging. I decided I would blog about her in one of my BEDA blogs, so why not do it now?

Elena is an absolutely amazing person. She may be small, but, she packs a punch. She manages to fit a whole lot of energy into just one person and she inspires me a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I've known her since we were in a musical in the 7th grade. She landed the lead role then, and I was just a chorus member. I thought she was a kickass singer and a kickass actor, even then. Just fantastic. (She doesn't think she did so well, but, I refuse-ABSOLUTELY REFUSE-to agree.) I never really talked to her much, even then, but, this year we are in Little Women together and we both have blogs (obviously) so we talk more. We're also actually in a class together during school, which helps.

She actually sort of inspire me to write this story I might do about the play. It's going to be epic. She's a main character.

Ta ta for now, internet. I must rehearse!

Let us rehearse!

Rotten Honey

Have you ever had one of those days where you just can't get a song-- I don't know why I feel this way. I don't know if it's right or wrong to laugh at misfortune.-- out of your head?

Sometimes, I love-- Does it hurt? Oh, it really doesn't matter. Does it burn? Oh, I don't feel a thing. -- days like that. But, sometimes, I hate them. Luckily, today was the former. I had an Oingo Boingo song stuck in my head for the entire day. It was pretty fantastic to have Danny Elfman bouncing off the walls of my skull like a madman while I walked through the halls at school.

I'm so glad that Vito showed me Oingo Boingo this year. Otherwise, I'm not entirely sure I would have gotten into them. Fantastic songs. Absolutely fantastic. They're porbably one of my favorite bands right now. I love them.

The last time that I fell in love
the love was milk and honey but the milk turned sour.
The woman became a monster
and everyone I knew had become a stranger
and the room went black and my luck was spent.
The floor opened up, down I went.

Play Practice: Extended Edition!

Tonight, I have play practice until 9:30.

This is going to be a long night.

But, my favorite person ever is here, so that's cool.

V-I-T-O

He's going to play the trumpet for the musical.

That should be fun.

Have you ever shouted a secret of someone's when you didn't even know it was a secret? I hate it when that happens. I always feel really awful afterwords. I wish there was some way to prevent that sort of thing. Or some sort of insurance you could get so that you can make sure that after, their life isn't ruined. What if you accidentally reveal some sort of really deep and dark secret that they didn't want anyone to know? That would be terrible.

I wish I could control some things that I just can't. It's frustrating.

I'm going to be running lines and singing things all night. I need to keep my voice strong. STRONG! If I'm going to play a man, I need a strong voice.

Hour Glass

I don't think that it's the fact that life works like an hour glass that upsets people. I think that it's really the fact we can't tell how fast the grains of sand move or how big the glass is. Don't keep on trying to picture the hour glass. It'll do you no good. The grains of sand in that glass aren't what matter. It's not even the speed at which they travel we should focus on.

When we start focusing on how short life can be- or even how long- I don't think that we should think that it is too short to try, or not long enough to care about anything long term. Instead, I think that we should embrace the time that we do have, whether we are 15 or whether we are 85. We should find the people or the things that we love and take care of them for as long as we can. The thing that matters isn't really how long our life is, because we don't get to decide that, but, what we do get to decide is what we do with the time we have.

I am starting to sound mighty cheesy right about now, so, maybe I'll stop ranting about cliches. The point I'm trying to make is that, just because we may not get an eternity to spend on earth (or any other planet) does not mean it's not worth it to use the time we do have wisely.

It's not even about doing something big or grand or always having some wonderful reason to be happy. It's about taking all the small things, that you do for yourself or that are done for you, and stringing them together so that you can remember 'Oh yeah. This is what I'm here for. This is what it's all about.' Then, maybe, those nice little things won't always seem so little and we can always make the time we have worth it for everyone here.

P-A-R-T-Y (cause we got to)

Today is my darling nephew's birthday. I am very excited to see him and my brother and my sister-in-law, but, my volunteer work at the library has left my legs a bit stiff, (I did a lot of kneeling while reshelving books) so I fear I might be miserable.

Tonight, I'm going to do my podcast. It's basically going to be my brochure on book banning that I made for that class in audio form, so it's not going to be too hard to type up a script, but, I am scared of having to record it and transfer it onto my sister's flashdrive. It's just for Research Writing, which is a fairly easy class to pass, so I should do fine.

It was funny. Last night, my mom, my brother, and I were all watching Braveheart together because we love Patrick McGoohan and he is absolutely fantastic in the film. It's actually a pretty good movie, overall. But, this time, my mom and brother decided to add their own commentary on the film, which I enjoyed immensely. Such as "They're not booing..they're chanting McGOOOOOOOOOOhan!" Then, they had a fake sword fight using boxes of aluminum foil in the kitchen. We are a classy family, to say the least.

We'll see how today goes. Hopefully it's going to be exciting and productive rather than disappointing and destructive.

Who are you?

Watching old episodes of CSI (original flavor) reminds me of just how sexy William L. Peterson can be. I was just watching an episode from the very first season and good lord did Grissom look good. Nick was in the house, held at gunpoint by the suspect's wife, and Grissom came in with a gun (which never happens anymore. I don't think he even carries a gun anymore.) and was like "Put the gun down!" to the wife. It was absolutely amazing to watch. And his sillohuette when they showed him walk in was so sexy. It's like...You can point a gun at me anytime, Mr. Grissom. ;)

Maybe I shouldn't be so surprised by the unfiltered sexy that is William L. Peterson. I mean, I have seen Manhunter! He's lookin' fine in that movie too. Have you seen it? It's a great movie, don't get me wrong. His rugged good looks aren't the only thing I noticed while watching it. It's just that he has some damn fine rugged good looks. You cannot deny it, my friend.

Now is the time when I shut my trap about William L. Peterson and start to talk about something that actually matters.... Cornbread crackers! Those things are delicious AND nutritious. Hopefully. Because I just ate nearly an entire box.

Oh well. Time to oggle at William L. Peterson while he tries to solve a most unsexy crime. I'd almost feel guilty if he didn't bring so much goddamn sizzle!

I've always been a late bloomer

Here I am, starting Blog Every Day April...3 days late. Better late than never though, right? For those of you that don't know, BEDA is a brilliant brain baby of the wonderful and talented Maureen Johnson. http://twitter.com/maureenjohnson

Well, today I have to start volunteering at a library. I'm pretty nervous since it's my first day and all, but, I suppose I'll make it through unscathed. It shouldn't be too hard. When I talked to the Head Librarian, she said that I would just be stuffing envelopes and shredding papers and stuff like that. It's just busy work for me, which I sort of love. When I used to do volunteer stuff at the library my dad works at, I always had fun.

I have to make a podcast on book banning for school this weekend. Not looking forward to it, necessarily, but, it won't be awful. My sister and I are doing it together.

Pretty boring, today. Hopefully April will be more exciting soon.