Yess! I totally stole this from yacoba ! Most excellence!

1. Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
2. Turn to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post that sentence along with these instructions in your LiveJournal.
5. Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.

//Ahem//

"Let him die; but first sheathe thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house, a-feasting; and thou shalt woo her."

o.o  //laughs// that incredibly amuses me!

Ok, so this is me trying to be more of a consistent poster and failing! woot!

So I've been watching a lot of Narnia lately. Shadow, too. When I'm sitting on the couch watching TV he likes to come lay half on my lap before slowly rolling down to my feet. Finally he gives up and lays down at the other end, all curled up and Furry and cute! I love my baby! But yes, for some reason I'm obsessed with Prince Caspian! And it's not just that I think Ben Barnes is cute and has nice hair! (I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice head of hair) I don't know. Something in the theme keeps getting me choked up and makes me come back and watch it again and again. I guess it's just the idea that they were there, they lived their lives in that place, and then went home. And now that they're back... Nothing's the same. Everything's more... grownup. And I haven't done that. I haven't moved on. I haven't left. I'm still living in the same house, the same room, that I've lived in since I was born. Well, I slept in the little room when I had a crib, but as soon as I got a bed I moved into this room.

I don't know. That's not entirely right. I've also been watching Gilmore Girls like there's no tomorrow. I have season 7, baby, in my hands! I just have to finish season 5 (I'm still on disc three there, so about halfway), re-watch all of season 6, and then I'm home free! I've also discovered on my new Batman game that each level is two-fold and you can play the second half of it as the villains! It's fantastic! But I'm a little disappointed. I finally got to Lego Catwoman and she was disappointingly easy to beat. But adorable!

Oh well. Gotta go! Dinner.

I finally checked out the NaNo WriMo site today. It's pretty damn interesting. I signed up for it, though at this point I'm not to sure what the, uh, point is. I'm gonna have to wait another year to participate. Anyways, I wanted to see it and... Oh, you may not know what it is, huh? Well, it is the National November Writing Month. Yea. It's ending today. But my friend posted that she actually finished pretty early this year and she posted a link to the site. So I said, "Why not?" It looks fairly interesting. And fairly intense. And it's made me want to write.

The need to write is very funny. It's like this itch in my brain that spreads to my fingers... This itchy fire that moves in my veins till it's tickling my entire body with the need. And somehow just typing this isn't enough. I want to write, though I don't know what to write. Should I make up something new? I need a prompt. Someone gimme a prompt... How about Night life? That's the week 4 prompt that I didn't make it to. That's a good place to start.

Night Life

Night life....

Hmmmmmmm.............

TTFN
Fool

P.S. I know I haven't updated in ages and I will soon. But I'm gonna go see about this itch first.

Now if this isn't cutting it close, I don't know what is! This is Week 3 for the brigits_flame contest (I know, can you believe it?!) and the prompt was Limelight. I'm sure you will all be able to tell where the inspiration for this came from. It's not my best piece, but this topic has consumed my soul for the past week and, well, it's hard to write about and very sensitive. I took details from real life, but they're all twisted into fiction so don't worry about hurting my feelings. Please critique and criticize just as you always would. Thanks.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

‘Oh, I hate this. I hate this so much! I’m not even Catholic! Oh crap! Oh holy crap! What the bloody hell was I thinking? Oh crap! Okay, breathe! Just remember to breathe!’

One more time, I looked up at the podium before me. Why did it have to be so complicated? It was beautiful, sure, but it was as if God had made it exactly so that now I would trip and fall. It was tall and beautiful, a small “tower” rising from the floor, all carved wood. The front of it was intricately cut into stalactites and -mites that were all tiered and made to look, well, heavenly. Faintly, angels and cherubs could be seen floating around the scene, as if the little carved “windows” really looked onto heaven. Curving beautifully around the side was a polished wooden staircase with a gorgeous carved railing. Normally I might have been impressed with such a piece of craftsmanship, even within a Church, but right now all I could see was the tight winding of those narrow, tall steps; steps that I would have to be climbing soon.

Surely this was completely disastrous. What a horrible idea. I should never have agreed to this. What was I thinking?

I jumped as a hand landed on mine, and a moment later a soft voice was breathing into my ear. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, delicately, I released the breath that I’d forgotten I was holding. “Mm-hmm.” I hummed back quietly, nodding my head.

“You sure? You’re shaking like a leaf.”

It was true. The page clamped between my hands was rattling faintly with my trembling. Curses! It was bad enough I was nervous about being in the limelight. Add shaking to my natural born talent for clumsiness, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for disaster. It would be funny, if the occasion were not so solemn.

With some difficulty, I managed to release the paper from my death grip, laying it safely across my lap. Only when I had managed to fold my hands firmly on top of it did I allow myself to look up at him. His water blue eyes were bright and clear, as they always were when he looked at me. But beneath his slightly frowning brow, they shone with worry.

“Will you be alright?” he asked, and I knew what he meant.

I took a few breaths before trying my voice. It was a bit higher than I remembered. “‘Course I will be. Don’t you have any faith?”

I saw him smother a chuckle as he said, “Funny, I thought that was your problem.”

The raise of my eyebrows applauded his new-found ability to use words with double meaning, and for a moment I almost smiled.

Almost.

In truth, I had never been more nervous in my life. In high school my worst fear was that, with my good grades, I would end up being Valedictorian and would have to stand in front of, not only the 200 something members of my class, but their families and friends and the teachers and kids from school... Luckily, I only ended up in the top ten, not being an over achiever, and didn’t even have to sit on the stage. And now I was sitting in my parents’ old Church, waiting to stand up in front of everyone I knew, everyone they knew, and everyone who ever knew my grandmother and read. Why the holy hell did I agree to this?

The mass was progressing without my notice, and my time was coming up soon. Instead of watching the robed priest that sat in a stately manner before us, I let my eyes fall to the folded rectangle before me. It seemed so innocent, but I knew it was my doom. Whatever compelled me to agree to this? I mean, yes I was the logical choice as the writer in the family, but that only made sense to a point. Everyone knew how much of a klutz I was without the assistance of so many eyes and a pair of three inch heels.

As if he knew my thoughts (and considering how well he knew me, he probably did) he leaned over again and whispered. “You’ll be fine. Just remember, you’re doing this for her.”

From the corner of my eye I saw him nod to a small table that sat in front of the altar. Swallowing, I followed his quiet gaze until I saw her again. The table was plain, unadorned save for the lace cloth that draped unevenly over it. In one corner, facing the congregation, sat a tall photo in fading colors. I remembered that it was dated 1952, the same year my father was born. She wasn’t going to give birth to my mother for another nine years. Beside the photo sat the squat little urn. The white and navy background was swirled with silver and gold that came together in faintly flower-like shapes and gleamed under the lights of the Church.

I did not look too long at the urn (it baffled me how such a woman could fit into that tiny “vase”) but at the picture beside it. She was still young in it, only about 32 years old, but already her face was beginning to fold along those familiar lines that defined my grandmother, my Grammy. She defied description.

“And now, I’d like to give a moment for Rita’s granddaughter, Alice, to come forward and say a few words.”

My heart thrummed in my throat at the priest’s words, and I felt a familiar squeeze of my fingers before he released me. My knees shook as I stood carefully, resting my hand on the pew, and suddenly I was very aware of the hundred or so eyes upon the back of my head. Taking a steadying breath, I looked one more time at my grandmother, and suddenly I remembered. I remembered her love and her strength, and her unwavering confidence in myself and in all of my cousins. She had always encouraged me along this path, this dangerous path of writing, even when my own parents had only doubts. This was my final gift to her, the only thing I could give in honour of all she had given me. After all, what were a few minutes of horrible, torturous limelight compared to a lifetime of love and compassion?

My steps were unusually steady as I walked up to the podium, my heels unbearably loud in the silence as the eyes followed me. Up the curving stairs, my hand lighting on the rail, and into the bright lights and the hundred eyes. I remembered what she said and looked over them instead of right at them. In my head, I thought, ‘This is for you, Grammy.’

“Hello,”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Alright, as always, please tell me what you think. Thanks.

In memorium: April 16, 1920 - November 17, 2008

Fool

Ach! OMG! I almost forgot to finish this! Well, here it is. My week 2 entry for brigits_flame . The prompt was Dine. Tell me what you think!

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“Please, help yourself. Take whatever you wish.”

My little stowaway gave me a strange look from behind her slanted bangs. She was, perhaps, fourteen or fifteen and certainly did not belong on the side of the dark road I found her on with a sign claiming a single direction in a sporadic scrawl; “North”. I gave her one better offer when I stopped beside her outstretched thumb; “shelter”. At first she had given me the same look she was giving me now, of utter befuddlement. She probably had not imagined her luck was such that a handsome, well-to-do man in an humble Audi would be the one to offer her anything she would be inclined to accept.

Her strange answer, after taking in the warm interior of my car, had been, “But I’m all wet.”

She blushed immediately at the possible double meaning of her words, but I laughed them off gently. “After standing here gods know how long in the pouring rain it seems foolish of me to expect anything less.”

My logic was accepted, of course, and she agreed to my offer of food and a warm bed. On the way to my home, she filled the small space with the story of her journey, describing the different people she’d met on the way, and talking about her ultimate destination; Alaska. She wanted to live in a world of snow and ice, where every day she awoke to a white kingdom of frozen beauty. Her words were almost poetic, save for the common speech that connected them.

Angela, as I found she was called, was even more amazed upon seeing my home.

“Who’d ya have to kill to get a place like this?” she muttered in the large entryway.

Her voice was low, as if she did not intend for me to hear it, so it surprised her when I said, “Henry Higgins.”

For a moment her small brown eyes doubled in size, the first tendrils of fear and panic playing around the edges of her face. But then she laughed, nearly doubling over with a loud snort. “That’s that guy from that movie, right? The one with that actress everyone goes all crazy about? Andrea something…”

“Audrey Hepburn.” I corrected.

“Yea. My mom used to make me watch it when I was a kid. It was so boring.” She turned away from me as she said this, so I didn’t have to try to hide my smirk. After all, she needn’t know how close to the truth my words truly were.

It was sometime after her shower that she returned to me, short damp hair held back in a camouflage bandana, and I heard the low, early warning signs of hunger emanating from her stomach. I smirked and led her without explanation to my large kitchen, unused appliances glistening in the too-bright light. I strayed in the shadowed doorway as I invited her to take what she wanted from my suddenly well-stocked fridge and had to chuckle at her response.

“Like, anything?”

“Anything you would like.”

Again she turned wide eyes towards the contents of the tall silver box, a clear debate ranging through her mind. Imperceptibly, I caught her rocking back and forth with the opposing arguments. Clearly, I appeared to be insane. Either that or I had an agenda that would, more than likely, not turn out well for her. Then again, she was hungry and thus far I had tried nothing to harm her nor take her things. Soon enough the inevitable decision was made and she dove in with both hands to grab whatever came first.

As she dumped her stash onto the island in the center of the room she looked up almost sheepishly and asked, “Is there anything I can get you?” I watched as her hand was already bringing a ripe pear to her lips even as she asked this oh-so politely.

The laugh peeled from my lips with the thunderous force of Gothic church bells and for a moment she seemed rather alarmed. I calmed myself quickly and spoke in my normal velvet tones, “No, there is hardly anything there that could tempt my hunger.”

This certainly confused her. “I don’t get it. Why is it here in your fridge if you don’t even like it?”

I knew the smooth smile that spread across my features would allay all her fears, and sure enough she sighed, her frown melting away as she gazed at my face. “You need not worry about that. Take your fill, then feel free to roam my house. It is yours tonight. You know your room. Goodnight.”

“Wait!” She called as I turned from the truth-bearing light into the shadows. “What’s your name?”

But I didn’t answer. Tonight, she would eat and sleep in my home, and tomorrow she would be on the first plane to Juneau. She would not see me again, and that was as it should be. She was just lucky that nothing in that kitchen could tempt my appetite, for all that was there was far too young and innocent.

Within minutes of leaving my home I was in the city stalking shadows, listening to the words they thought no one could hear. But I could hear them. I knew what lay in their hearts, and as I listened I felt the thirst growing within me. It thrummed in my dry veins till every nerve ached with it and I found my meal. This was where I dined.

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Yes, please tell me what you think! I love feedback!

TTFN
Fool

Hot damn, do I feel sucky! I'm super sick again, I can't breath, I'm coughing, my throat's soar, and I have so much fluid in me I half feel like I'm drowning on dry land. I'm also all bloaty from that oh-so-special women's time we always get. Add that to the fact I half threw my back out last night from sneezing... yea. I knew I was gonna sneeze big so I twisted around to grab a tissue and, in this awkward position, I mega sneezed rather violantly and totally felt something go pop and start aching. Oh, right, I mega sneezed twice before I could change positions. Yup. Fun. Or not...  yep. So right now I'm sitting at home watching Moulin Rouge and working on the fuddin puppa.

Oh, so you know how in my last post I wrote about M and I said she was in the clear? Well, she's not. Yea.

KK. I love Ewin Mcgregor. And I also really like my Bo. Just throwing that out there. But I'm a fucking hermit again now. I need to fix that. Ooh! That fuddin Duke!

Right, so I'm making the puppet for Fuddy Meers. Sara's doing the head and I've got the clothing. It's a real bitch. But it looks cool.

And I keep checking my friends page to see if I made it into the second round for once. Of course, in this one only one person is being eliminated, and it would be just my luck to be that one person. Oh well.

So, I started this entry in the middle of the day, and it is now after 8:00. I think I'm gonna go now. Just because. And because I don't have a nice long day off tomorrow to finish stupid little puppet head over there like I thought I did. Tim wants it done for noon tomorrow. Which he did not tell us. If i had known that I wouldn't have waisted time catching up on sleep yesterday and would have gotten more done on him. Dem fuddin puppa! Remind me to never volunteer for anything again.

... I'm just being pissy. That tends to happen to me during my period. And I miss Bo. I didn't get to see him today. Dem fuddin bag! And I need to stop talking in Gerdy speak! //breaths hard// Ok, I'm gonna go now. Bye.

TTFN
Fool

Spring echoed in the woods around him. Trees towering above painted the light green as he listened. A bird sang softly in the distance, trilling a delicate melody of joy. Rascal rolled onto his side, pink tongue dangling from his teeth as a wounded soldier might, waiting for that second wind. Things seemed so peaceful and perfect in this place that it almost made the past seem a dream. But in the woody halls stretching before him endlessly, as if time had never touched them, a nightmare lay.

It was the kind of scene that, had he written it or seen it in a movie, it would have been a dark and stormy night, lightening ripping the sky open and rain beating their heads into submission. But it wasn’t. The day had been bright as it was now, crows chattering somewhere annoyingly, but clear and warm. Early leaves had already left their homes to paint the forest floor and the last fingers of summer played around the edges of their ears even as they stood bundled in jackets. He could feel them all standing around him, with him, their silent presence like shadows that linger over the living though the dead have long passed.

The dog rolled onto his feet, nose and eyes fixed on the nearby bush, and let loose a bark. Stumbling to his feet, Jason looked quickly about him, hands up and words of defense ready on his lips. His wide eyes locked on the squirrel Rascal had startled out of hiding and slowly the sound of his heart beating in his own ears settled and returned to its normal place reverberating around his chest.

A trembling in his fingers betrayed his calm as he brushed his short hair back. For a moment he was almost surprised not to find the long locks of his youth, but then he had to remind himself that that was all long ago. It had been years since he had even seen one of those guys, never mind spoken to them. And yet…

And yet 15 years later here he was, in the woods were it had happened. When he was a boy this place had seemed like a wonderland secluded from the real world, and he and his friends had spent every possible moment here. Not far from where he stood he could now hear the sounds of the real world steadily encroaching upon what was once a haven, traffic softly hissing on damp pavement rudely reminding him that this place had changed. It hadn’t been a haven for anyone in a long time.

The leaves around his feet were flattened by the recent weight of the snow. Looking at the sodden yellow and dull brown of them, he could almost imagine a small area where a body might have lain. The boy’s limbs would have trembled like his fingers, like the last leaves of autumn in a soft breeze, his pants smudged with dirt. He could see the twigs sticking in the thick black hair as though he’d just had a good leaf throwing fight. But that was not what it had been.

Nassr had begged a hundred times to be allowed into their games, but they never let him. His parents spoke strange and Jason could remember his own mother muttering about them that September. Nassr ate weird food, not American food, and his mother wore a scarf on her head. They never played with him, not until Tom decided to say yes. He said they would just play Sheriffs and Outlaws. He said it would be fun. He even let Nassr play the outlaw.

Rascal crashed through the underbrush, jumping onto his master as he bounded by and almost knocking him over.

“Down!” Jason hollered reflexively, and the dog recoiled. He said a moment later and bent to pat the mutt’s head. “I’m sorry, boy. It’s not you, it’s just…” The words stuck in his throat as he looked around. Distantly, he heard the faint crashing of children through the old leaves and the echoes of their laughter almost sounded to him like the cries of a boy in pain, pleading and apologizing, but desperate for the game to be over.

And then it was gone again. “C’mon, boy. I need a drink.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So no preamble on this one. And no title. This is kind of last minute as I was so incredibly busy I nearly forgot, but I got it in on time. Tell me what you think, I love to hear it.

Oh, and for my friends, this is my brigits_flame entry for November week 1. The prompt was Wine. Not a lot of wine in it, but somehow this is just what I came up with. Anyways, yes. Feedback now, please! ^__^

Fool

I was gonna post something else here, but never mind that. How about something light hearted? I wrote this for the Flash Fiction Contest in school today. I competed again. It was interesting. My prompts were as follows;

A pic I didn't really use

My first five sentences had to begin, respectively, with these five letters:   S   T   A   R   T

I used dog, coffee, rain but nothing else

Also some music, but I mostly ignored it.

Towards the end of the 30 minutes my attention was beginning to wane and I still had to wrap it up, so it might feel a little rushed. But it was a fun experience again. I dunno if I'll do as good this time, but I got second once. It doesn't matter how I do. This is entirely unedited as I ran out of time and I give it to you in its untouched form. Please excuse typos and things and also excuse the title. I came up with it last minute, but now I hate it.

The Sheriff’s Memory

 

Spring echoed in the woods around him. Trees towering above painted the light green as he listened. A bird sang softly in the distance, trilling a delicate melody of joy. Rascal rolled onto his side, pink tongue dangling from his teeth as a wounded soldier might, waiting for that second wind. Things seemed so peaceful and perfect in this place, it almost made the past seem a dream. But in the woody halls stretching before him endlessly, as if time had never changed them, a nightmare lay.

It was the kind of scene that, if he had written it or seen it in a movie, it would have been a dark and stormy night, lightening ripping the sky open and rain beating their heads into submission. But it wasn’t. The day was bright as it was now, some crows chattering in the background annoyingly, but clear and warm. Early leaves had already left their homes to paint the forest floor and the last fingers of summer played around the edges of their ears even as they stood bundled in jackets. He could feel them all standing around him, their silent presence like shadows that linger over the living though the dead have passed.

The dog rolled onto his feet, nose and eyes fixed on the nearby bush, and let loose a bark. Stumbling to his feet, Jason looked quickly about him, hands up and words of defense ready on his lips. His wide eyes locked on the squirrel Rascal had startled out of hiding and slowly the sound of his heart beating in his own ears settled and returned to its normal place reverberating in his chest.

A trembling in his fingers betrayed his calm as he brushed his short hair back. For a moment he was almost surprised not to find the long locks of his youth, but then he had to remind himself that that was all long ago. It had been years since he had even seen one of those guys, never mind spoken to one. And yet…

And yet 15 years later here he was, in the woods were it had happened. When he was a boy this place had seemed like a wonderland secluded from the real world, and he and his friends had spent every possible moment here. Not far from where he stood he could now here the sounds of the real world steadily encroaching upon what was once a haven. Of course, it hadn’t been that in a long time.

The leaves around his feet were flattened by the recent weight of the snow. Looking at the sodden yellow and dull brown of them, he could almost imagine a small area where a body might have lain. The boys limbs would have trembled like his fingers, like the last leaves of Autumn in a soft breeze, his pants smudged with dirt. Jason could see the twigs sticking in the thick black hair as though he’d just had a good leaf throwing fight. But that was not what it had been.

Nassr had begged a hundred times to be allowed into their games, but they never let him. His parents spoke strange and he could remember his mom muttering about them in September. Nassr ate weird food, not American food, and his mother wore a scarf on her head. They never played with him, not until Tom decided to say yes. He said they would just play sheriffs and outlaws. He said it would be fun. He even let Nassr play the outlaw.

Rascal crashed through the underbrush, jumping onto his master as he bounded by and almost knocking him over.

“Down!” Jason hollered without thinking, and the dog recoiled. “Sorry, boy.” He said a moment later, bending to pat the mutts head. “It’s not you, it’s just…” he sighed heavily. “C’mon. I need some coffee.”

 

Fool

Hello. I haven't been here in a while. These past few weeks have all been a blur. What is there to say? Well, things are going well with Bo and I, Melissa is just as cute and troublesome as ever, and I am tired and am shirking chores. So pretty much the same.

Election day is coming!! //sarcastic woot// Sorry, but by now I am so sick of politics and politicians and all that horse shit... Yea. I've known for months who I'm going to vote for so I just wanna get it over with and hope that whichever worm makes it into the White House doesn't fuck the country up even more. Don't get me wrong, they both seem like really nice people. But then I remember what they do for a living and how far they have gotten in said profession... yea. So really, I don't trust either of 'em as far as I could throw either of 'em.

Alright, now that my political commentary is over and done with, I can deal with pleasanter stuffs. Halloween was fun. I spent the day as Elphaba, all green and in a black dress, and Melissa was my Galinda. I hung out with her and Bo the whole day, which was great! We had fun trying to find where Chelsea worked so we could go visit her, bought some food and ate it at Melissa's, then we went trick or treating and walked all over the place and by the time we came home Chelsea was on her way from work. After I degreenified myself, the four of us hung out downstairs where we watched "The Crow" with Brandon Lee //sighs// and then "Hocus Pocus". It was a lot of fun. But Chelsea and Melissa had to yell at me because I was unconciously quoting the movie and it was driving them nuts. Then Chelsea entertained us. She was fucking hilarious! I laughed so hard my sides hurt! And it didn't help that I was having a sugar rush from all the candy I was eating. Yea. But we had a great time.

New paragraph!!!! I didn't get home till 2:30 that night! And I slept until 12:00. Which kinda sucked, because I had to drive back to Melissa's house to trade her sweater for my nose medicine after showering and then I had to get something done in my room before leaving to go see Robin Williams. And that was pretty funny! I didn't laugh as hard as I did on Friday, but it was still fucking funny. He looks fatter in person than he does on TV. //shrugs// Afterwards I didn't have much fun, but I don't feel like mentioning that.

//le gaspe// Tuesday is my last Yoga class. So sad! Now I'm not gonna have any reason to go to school on Tuesday's and Thursdays. That sucks!

Hmmm, these Butterfingers are pretty good. And Shadow looks adorable right now, lying in the sun! And I miss my Mandy. And Melissa. But esp Bo. Yea. I'm gonna go now. Stop procrastinating.

Fool

P.S. Must brainstorm about Wine for November contest.

I am the text book definition of exhaustion. So much so that I started this entry yesterday with the same words and am now even more tired than then. Oh, and just forewarning, this is going to be a doosey of a post. I've got a lot to relate.

Yesterday morning I got a total of four hours of good sleep followed by an hour or two of really crappy sleep where I kept on waking up for fear my alarm wouldn't go off. I got up at 4:00 AM to shower and go pick up Bo so that we could be at the school for 5:45 and leave there at 6:00. Where were we going that we had to leave at six? An open house at Emerson College. In Boston. And I was driving. That's right folks, my first road trip! Well, that I was driving for. I followed another guy who knew where we were going. Or had at least driven around Boston before. And I still got lost. Not him, just me. Yup. I'm just that good! Oh well. We ended up getting there alright, but Bo and I got separated during the proceedings. After all, he's a Performing Arts major (the technical side) and I'm a Writing major. //shrugs//

But on our way to the school... we held hands. ^__^

I went to the overview of the Journalism program and thought that I really wasn't all that into it. The Writing, Literature and Publishing program, however, was interesting. But Emerson is really very expensive. And I don't think I'd get in. But it was nice to see.

After a couple hours at the school, we walked to go meet the sister of one of the girls there and she brought us to a nice place for lunch, then gave us directions for the highway. The drive back was uneventful. No getting lost at all. But each way was about two hours. There was an older woman, Tomika, and her daughter in my car as well, but they didn't really say much. So it was mostly Bo and I chatting for two hours straight. We didn't really talk about anything in particular, but that was fine. We had a good time. On the way back, though, I was tired and I had to poke him (literally and figuratively) a few times in order to get him to talk and stimulate me. I would have left him to rest, but I was worried about my mind wandering too much. We got back around, I think, 3:30 or so. I took him to the mall after saying bye to the others and dropping off Tomika so he could get a mask for Britney's Halloween party that night. I was already planning to head over to Melissa's so she could greenify me.

When we were walking around Boston, and in the mall, we held hands. ^__^

I finally dropped him off at his house before 4:30 so that we could both rest before I went to Melissa's and then picked him up. I wasn't home a full half an hour when I got a text from Melissa that concerned me. She said she couldn't be in her house any more. I dropped everything (including the contents of my purse) and ran out the door to bring her home with me. (At this point my parents and sister were at the St. Luke's Greek festival without me, so I had the house to myself for a few hours.) She texted me again saying she needed an excuse to leave, so I called her and told her that I couldn't choose between two awesome costumes and I needed her help for the party tonight. Luckily, I was already on the road and heading towards her house. She loved me very much.

After I rescued Melissa we headed to a dollar store to pick up green makeup and then went to Panera. I got a cup of Chai Tea... It was amazing! Anywho, afterwards I decided to pick up Bo and bring him to my house as well, because it would be easier to get to Britney's party if I had them all there with me. I was going to the party as Elphaba (from Wicked, for those who don't know) and Melissa was a Pink Lady (from Grease). Unfortunately, my parents and sister came home before we even got started on makeup. But it turned out well. Laura was sweet and helpful while I was rushing around trying to get us out of there quickly and trying to spare Bo from my parents. Luckily they were complacent about it and Bo was not at all concerned. He gave a good impression, if a timid one. Which is good. But still, meeting the parents after only one week... Yea.

So the party was great. At first it was kinda weird because we didn't know anybody, and later when people we knew were arriving Bo and I were just so tired from having so little sleep and getting up so early... Yea. Melissa was frantic over the fact that Chelsey and Chelsea and the rest were so late, but mostly Bo and I were sitting together and I was trying not to fall asleep on his shoulder.

We cuddled. ^__^

And then I sat on his lap. ^__^

And I sat on him. ^__^

So it was raining pretty hard around here and the main road that lead from Britney's house to the highway got flooded and was blocked off. People were getting around it, but it was already about 1:30 in the morning and I was very tired. And I don't do well on confusing side streets. Especially not in the dark. I did not feel good driving home. Luckily Britney was already planning to have some people sleep over and it was alright for us to stay. Plus, Melissa did not feel safe going home last night. I didn't want her going home last night. And we had a hell of a time convincing her parents to let her stay. I even tried speaking to her mom, saying that I would be sleeping next to her and keeping an eye on her all night. Her mom didn't believe her and had to call the local police to confirm that there really was a road block. Only then did she say yes. But poor Melissa was so paniced that she would have to go home... She just started crying, and there was nothing I could do. But her mom caved after phoning the police and said she could stay. So we slept over.

We were pretty far apart, but I slept next to him all night and woke up next to him this morning. ^__^

I drove Melissa home alright and was a little late getting home myself, but that's because of what happened after I dropped Melissa off. As soon as Bo got in the front seat with me I had a funny feeling in my stomach. We got to his house without much conversation, but we had spent 24 of the last 28 hours together, so... yea. I parked in front of his house and he just sat there for a long time. For a very long time. Not really saying much and not really looking at me. He kept on stretching and saying he was tired, but I got the feeling he was stalling. I sat there, I teased him, I poked him, and finally I told him that I'd have to go soon to go to church with my parents. That's when he let his head fall to the side on my shoulder, muttering, "Sleepy." I just looked at him, and then...

Then we kissed. ^__^

A very long story, I know, with a very sweet ending! And I haven't done any homework this weekend because of all of yesterday's stuff and then I went to Church and then I went to have lunch with my sister and my step-grandmother and her daughter and grandchildren. At the Greek festival. Which was nice. I came home and crashed for four hours and didn't even wake up till my mom came up to see how I was doing and tell me that dinner was in ten minutes. And now I'm writing this.

Yesterday and today were good days. Very good days. I'm lovin it. And I'm totally loving these tiny delirious moments. With him.

TTFN

My week 1 entry for

brigits_flame is a poem this month. The prompt was that it had to start with the words "There it goes". I have a feeling a lot of people will try a poem, but I didn't like my other ideas. So yea, enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There it goes
All that I am
You take it from me
And give it back again
Tear me apart
And make me whole

There it goes
As the bird child
From the nest
I fly from you to find
A peace of mind
You cannot give

There it goes
A distant thing
Apart from me
Given to you and
Callously cast
Away

Cast me from
The world of your light
Banish me in
Your shadow
To lie in your wake
To fade from your eye

And there I go
I'm far from you
Far and Free

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eep! I just sat down and wrote that so randomly! But I'm pretty happy with it. It's a little bit sad and emo, but it's pretty, I think. Oh well. Hope you liked!

Fool
 

This was a late chatter post I did for brigits_flame , the community I'm in, and it came out very philosophical so I decided I wanted to share it. I even got in a "WALL-E" reference! Enjoy.

I hoard memories. Specifically, stuff that reminds me of things.

I think I have this internal fear that if I get rid of even the silliest of things I'll forget it happened, forget it existed, forget my life. And really, life is the only thing we have. It is the most precious. And over time it becomes a collection of little things that bring up memories until they become a memory themselves. So does that mean, if all the little things are thrown away, the life never happened? Does it disappear and cease to exist? Is this why I write, so that when all else is rotting away in a dump-pile of the future and being squirreled into a weird home by a strange little trash compactor robot who builds beautiful buildings out of trash, something of me, in some form, will exist, marking that I lived, that once I walked and breathed and laughed and cried. In a moment I was. In the next I was not.

For now I cling to each notebook, each silly toy, to remind me of my life, that I lived, to be rediscovered with boundless joy only I can appreciate as my life unfolds before me in a fountain of uselessness. But one day they will have no purpose. I will be gone and will not be here to remember and take joy. Will my children hold onto them? Or will they be blithely tossed into a junk pile? Perhaps, as I like to think, they will be sold in future-istic garage-sales and given to children who will not understand the use it has been put to, the life it once shared with another human. And then it will share in their life, be hoarded away in a dark room for years to come to be discovered again and again to infinite joy for life that is lived and remembered. For in the end, that is all we have.

It is a nice thought, bringing at least the memory of my life a little immortality. I have thought about it, and really I would not want to live forever; it would be too sad and lonely. But the idea of disappearing, of having even the memory of my life disappear like so many wasted years, terrifies me. And so I hoard my memories in boxes and bags and great piles of stuff. So that I can live while I am alive, and perhaps one day be remembered when I no longer live.

This is late and highly philosophical, but I just had to write it down. To share.

TTFN
Fool

Hello! I'm still in school. Why? I have no idea! I just am. I'm hanging out with Melissa and Creepy Guy and Bo and the Creepy Guy just called us geeks. Yea, Ok! Anywho, I'm listening to music (Lonely Day just came on!!!)  and knitting cute little animals (gods, my fingers are killing me!) and just having fun. I really should go home to eat before my acting class tonight, but I don't want to walk all the way to my car with my computer bag and all, so... yea. I'm still here.

Oh! And big thanks to all you out there who commented on my last journal. I was just feeling really sucky and really feeling bad for my friend, and all your love really cheered me up! Thanks all! I adore each and every one of you! ^__^

So, Creepy Guy has been creeping me out. The past few days I've been noticing him looking at me and today I realized it's no coincidence, he is staring. Fuck! I'm not happy about that. But it might be nothing. I hope it's nothing.

Anyways, I've been chatting with Bo a whole lot. My crush has cooled down a ton, but I still think I like him. And ... well, I can't really tell if he likes me or not. //shrugs// whatever. If he does, cool. If not... oh well!

Anywho, I just wanted to give an update. I'm gonna head out! Love!

Fool

HELP ME PLEASE!

Ok, I know you guys don't always respond to these, but I'd really like it if you could this time. Anyone. Say anything! I don't care what! Alright. So as you may know I am a member of the site deviantart and there I find really pretty pictures to gaze at and inspire me. So I wrote this poem inspired by this guy Deeevilish's picture called "i count the days". And I need to know if it's any good before I post it there and he sees it. I really need honest opinions. Is it too strange? Too abstract? Does it make no sense? What? Anything! I'm desperate!

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I Count the Days

I count the days… And seek for nights

The cool, dark oblivion of unseeing light

Gleaming on the breast of skin that knows no right

I count the days… and seek for soothing nights

 

The endless wash of over-zealous sun

Burns my skin and knots my stomach tight

An unbearable truth from which I must run

I count the days… and seek for healing nights

 

The desperate shade of unbeliever’s hand

Does little to keep me from my plight

Twixt dusk and dawn I roam the land

I count the days… and seek for shadow nights

 

And if you could, what would you see

I’ve done no wrong, yet I must fight

To lower my hand, should I reveal me?

I count the days… and seek forgetful nights

 

To see beyond my stranger skin

It would not be, I would take flight

To look in my eye, they do not see their kin

I count the days… and seek forgiving nights

 

In my life there is so little light

But moonbeam shines in the darkness bright

To give soft beauty to what would otherwise fright

I count the days… and seek for loving nights

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Please answer this one guys! I really need something from anyone! An honest opinion. And the link to his photo is under his title up there at the top, so go check it out. And him. Well, don't check him out, but go look at his stuff, kays? Thanks. Love to anyone who replies and loathing to all who turn away from this!  -__-  I saw that!

Fool

So earlier today I was checking out my friends page here, and what did I see? Rose had posted results for this online quiz she did about which archangel was currently watching out for here. I believe her results were Jophiel? Maybe. Anyways, I checked it out and I decided it would be pretty cool to take. I mean, yea I'm not Christian anymore, but one of the things that always interested me was stuff about angels and archangels and all that 'divine mystery' or whatever you want to call it. Anyways, my results were Raphael, one of the chief archangels. It was pretty cool. So I read through my results, got to the end, and started looking at the links for other results. And you know what? Damn writers ADD struck!

The person who did the quiz wrote something interesting. There are only actually seven archangels, and yet there are ten names of archangels and no way to tell which ones are true or not (as far as I gather). My wheels started turning. I'm not too sure what all the story is, but it's ten kids named after the ten archangels, but only seven of them are good. I'm thinking there's something supernatural with them, maybe they're witches. And no, don't panic, I'm not making them into Puritan satanic witches or anything like that, and it's not really Harry Potter either. Just people with supernatural powers. Well, not just... It's more complicated than that. But I don't know the details yet. They'll appear. Anyways, not sure if they all know that they have these abilities or if only some of them actually practice Wicca or Paganism, (or if I'll even associate a religion to them) but somehow they are all connected, all thrown in together, and there is some 'prophetic' thing that tells of ten great powers. But only seven of them are true. The other three will inevitably betray the others. I already know who the betrayers are, and only one of them can really be constued as evil, but even then, it's more of an Edmund Pevensie evil from "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe" but not quite. He's sort of brainwashed into it, thinking it's his destiny. He manages to drag another one of them down, and though she has doubts she follows him, and a third one reveals himself in the end, though he is reluctant to do it. It's pretty thrilling, all jam-packed in my head there. There are two possible romances, one strong friendship, a brother and sister relationship, and a whole lot of heartache as these poor kids deal with the world turning around them.

Michael - (obviously) He's the leader and has a symbol of fire
Raphael - The main character with a wind symbol
Gabriel - Undecided on the gender, but Mike's greatest support and best friend, water symbol
Uriel - A strong lady with a mind of her own, earth symbol

Ariel - Uriel's girlfriend, a beautiful gal who just wants to live her life with Uriel free of this burden, both are Wiccan
Jophiel - A smarmy, sassy girl unafriad to fight for what she believes in, Jeremiel's sister
Israfel - Raphael's good friend, a guy with an eye and an ear for beauty
Raziel - Quiet and kind, loves knowledge and wants to follow a Buddist path, but he is confused by the tidal forces pulling on him
Zadkiel - Uriel's childhood friend, he also follows a Buddist path and tries to guide Raziel, but spends more time helping his friend. Seer
Jeremiel - Seer, overwhelmed by the weight of all that is revealed and tries to take on as much as possible, Jophiel's brother

Anyways, that's my cast. The top four are the 'chief angels' and are guaranteed to be one of the seven. The other six are up in the air. There are only three girls (possibly a fourth depending on what I decide for Gabriel) but that kind of figures. The only question is who is a betrayer and who is true? Hm? I know. I tried not to make it obvious in the descrip but I don't know. And Panda should be excited. I have a lesbian couple. ^__^ They're really sweet together, too. And poor Michael had such a crush on Uriel... until he found out about her girlfriend. HAHA! You can imagine how I can have fun with that!

But yea, I'm going to allow that to ferment, maybe write some stuff. It'll be interesting. Although, at the same time, I'm worried that it could be seen as controversial because I'm using archangels names and some stuff that's really the ravings of a mad man... But I'm with Tolkien. I do not believe in allegory. If I'm going to write something about a thing, I will. I won't hide it, and certainly not in such a poor disguise. It's just an opportunity to exploit mythology for a fun story. Well... I don't know how fun, but...

Anywho, I'm outtie. (I am so weird!)

TTFN
Fool

Alright! Today is... not so great. I spent most of the morning hours just typing and typing like crazy trying to finish Hanabi's (that's Dimes' nickname) first chapter like I was supposed to days ago and didn't. And I did! I finished it probably about 3:15 this afternoon (working in on it since 9:45 minus a few breaks) and so I went back on to ff.net to upload it... and I couldn't log in! Something's wrong with the server over there, so I'm stuck sittin' on this chapter when it should be going to her and I can't even let her know that it's done because the only way I have to contact her is via ff.net. So if you check this, Hanabi darling, I'm so sorry! I'll send it to you as soon as stupid ff.net is working again.

//sighs// on the bonus side of half-wasted days, I did get to sit around and listen to good music all day. I put on a mix of my Zeppelin, Beatles, a couple System songs, and some new things too; 'Believe' by Staind, Death Cab for Cutie, Badly Drawn Boy, The Killers, also my newest songs 'Samson' by Regina Spektor, 'Matinee' by Hurts to Purr, and 'Trouble' by Coldplay. I know, nothing that's actually new, but it's new for me. Or newly downloaded. It's good stuff. When I started this entry 'Matinee' was on. Now I've got 'Stairway to Heaven'. Oh, the bliss! Zeppelin and Beatles goodness! //sighs//

Alright, so my GW ADD struck again. I started dreaming up a Wufei/Mariemaia fic. I didn't write it though. That would be crazy. No. Instead I sat around all day trying to get on ff.net. Yup. Because that's not crazy. //rolls eyes// Yea.

Oh, and another thing. So, on the bottom, right side of my jaw, all the way in the back, my wisdom tooth is coming through. And it hurts like a b**ch! It's cutting my gum and ... (Ooh! 'Come Together' Good stuff!) the inside of my cheek is swelling because it's not used to the tooth being there and rubbing against it and I'm having a hell of a time trying not to bite it! It's so not cool!

//sighs// Alright, so this was mostly me whining. Sorry. But I'm just kind of hoping Hanabi will see this and know I haven't forgotten or abandoned her! I'm literally waiting on the server. And it sucks. But I have Beatles goodness and sweet guitar pulling at my senses and I can't resist it any longer! Must go and have big, musical orgasm! (yes, I relate music to sex. But in it's own way. ^__~)

TTFN
Fool

P.S. Oh! 'Samson'! Good stuff!

Introverted	Intuitive	Feeling	Judging
Strength of the preferences %
22	38	50	1

Just thought I should share that. I really am very middling on all of it, it said. And it also talked about how a lot of counselors get this. //shrugs// Cool. I like to help people and stuffs. I like my me time, but I enjoy people too, though on more of an individual level. Not so sure about the exact meaning of Intuitive (within this, I mean, not in general), but I know Feeling means I'm pretty sensitive to people. And I'm not very judging. Or at least, I try my darndest to check my judgments at the door. I think I'm more judging than this says, but I do my best not to let it overpower me. But cool! Like I said, just wanted to share. If you guys wanna see what you are check it out here.

On another note I just wanted to share my excitement on something. //ahem// I'M SOMEONE'S BETA! It's cool. Her name's Dimes Wish on ff.net, but don't try to look up her name. For some reason it doesn't work. //shrugs// Try looking up her fic Broken People. It's the very long prologue to the fic I'm beta-ing called I Am (Not) a Coward. Oh, Panda, you'll be proud of me. It's a shounen ai. And I didn't blanch or back away. It actually looks really interesting! Plus there'll be boys kissing! //gushes// Anyways, I'm very excited! I can't wait until I get the next bit from her.

So I've identified two of my muses, though they don't have names. One is my dark, creepy muse that makes me write about abuse, rape, death, and other such sadness. It's kind of creepy and I'm not too sure what it's gender is, so it needs a gender neutral name. Because I'm not about to ask it! //shudders// And then there's my happy bunny muse! She's definitely a girl and she inspires all my lovey-dovey fluff stuffs. I also know that there's my Gladiator muse. Well, I'm calling him a gladiator, but he's also a samurai, a knight, or any other kind of action-related figure. You guessed it, he's my action muse. I'm really tempted to call him Maximus. Maximus and Flora. (Flora is the bunny muse. Well, she changes animals, but she's usually something fluffy) And as for the other one... Shyama. It's an alternate name for the spouse of the hindu god Shiva, known as Krishna. It's a gender neutral name, so it works. And I like the implications. It's either named Shyama or Carey because Carey is derived from Ó Ciardha which means "descendant of Ciardha" or "descendant of darkness". But Carey just sounds so innocent! I'm not sure. What do you think?

Cool! My first poll! Now let's see if anyone'll vote! It's all really silly, but I'm curious what people think. Oh, and the names and the info about them came from Behind the Name here.

TTFN
Fool

So yea. Remember when I said I was doing some random work on my old 'yasha fic? Well, last week (at least I think it was) I wrote a prologue for it. Dunno why. It didn't have one before. But yea. I'm slowly working on a rewrite of the first chapter. So anyways, I'm not sure if I like it, but here it is. Tell me what you think.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lessons in Trust: The Miko and the Taiyoukai

Rewritten

By: Honourable Fool

Prologue

Doubt is an old friend I know well. It has spent many long years gnawing away at my heart until it has eaten up a hole there in which to nestle its bloated body, cradled in the tender flesh it draws upon for sustenance. Once it was foreign to me. Once I was a child, confidant and brave and filled with love. But then the love I thought I had… it was gone. A wind sighed through my kitchen window one day and breathed away the presence I had put all my faith in. And just like that he was snuffed out, gone from life, never to return. I didn’t know that then, though. I was a faithful child. I sat at my window, looking out at the ancient, gnarled tree on the far side of the courtyard, and waited. I wonder, now, for how many years I looked, pleading with the Tokyo skies to breathe that wind back my way, that he might return. I know it was a year before I first felt the tentative bites of doubt, tasting my heart for tenderness and flavor. He must have liked what he tasted.

From that moment on doubt was a frequent visitor, always eating his fill, and leaving without word or thanks. I used to wonder if he would not just come to stay. And then I fell down a well.

Now, I shouldn’t say ‘fell’ necessarily, because it was more like dragged. Of course, you might question, “How exactly does one get dragged down a well?” It’s quite simple, really. It was a mononoke in the form of a giant centipede with the upper body and head of a very ugly woman. It’s difficult now to remember exactly what happened, but suffice to say her skeleton managed to snag me and tear at a secret jewel hidden in my side. This jewel not only revived her but transported us both back 500 years into the Sengoku Jidai. That was how I fell in love.

I met a hanyou there with white, furry dog ears and fierce amber eyes. He was coarse and rude and stubborn as all hell, but I loved him. I loved his rough, red haori, the texture so like his personality. I loved his random kindness, not as gentle as I could wish for. I loved his determination, though it bordered on stupidity. I loved him from the moment he begged me to pull the arrow from his heart. Young and naïve, I think I thought that I could heal his heart if over time I poured enough love and caring and gentle words into the wound. This was how doubt made a home in my heart. My devotion to Inuyasha was a feast for the little bugger and he gorged himself delightedly. But still I did not abandon him. You see, I was destined for him and he for me. I had the soul of his former love, how could he not belong to me? I was her reincarnation. Surely I was meant for the same man.

Surely I was wrong. Similar as I was to the woman known as Kikyou, we were not the same. We could never be the same. But I misunderstood this truth as the whispers of doubt, and he only grinned toothily around the remains of his feast and sought to suck up every last crumb.

I was a foolish girl who understood nothing of myself nor of anyone else. I fell in love with a man, no, a half-demon with a hole in his heart and thought that I could mend it. He proved to me that I was not for him. He chose her over me.

When it happened, I knew, I saw, how much of a fool I was. I should have seen it coming. But I refused to listen to my doubt. Now though… now I understand. Doubt plagued every minute of my relationship with Inuyasha. I thought it was only natural. But I have never doubted him. I did not doubt him 500 years ago and I do not doubt him now.

Tokyo is strange to me after so long in the Sengoku Jidai. Sometimes I find myself staring out over the city and trying to trace the remains of Edo, the ancient village I knew so well. But any bones that might have survived are long gone, destroyed by war and advancement, eaten away by time. I sit at my window again, looking out at the gnarled Goshinboku as I did when I was a child. I sit and sigh at the Tokyo sky, begging not for a wind but for a storm, lightening streaking across the western skies, hiding the bloody trail of the setting sun beneath thundering brows. That is what I wish for and in my heart there is no doubt.

Souta pities me. I can see it in his eyes when he’s looking away or when he thinks I’m not looking. I can smell it on him when I sigh and see it in the set of his body. He does not believe my assertion. But I have no doubt. He does not understand how 500 years ago the creature known as doubt was torn from my heart by delicate clawed fingers. He did not feel the lifting of my soul as I stared into that golden abyss, teetering on that silver edge. And he does not need to. I will wait for him and he will come for me. For doubt has no part in our lives.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What'cha think? Yea or nay?

Fool

EDIT: Nothing major was changed, but I deleted a few things to make it flow better.

Hey everyone. This is my first entry for the August competition of brigits_flame. The prompt was Shadows of Self. I actually went with one of my first ideas for this one and that was to write with my oldest and dearest character called Lance. At the end of the entry I'll tell ya a bit about him if you want to read, but first I'll show you what I came up with.

No warnings for this one. It's kinda heavy and dark, but it's pretty PG as far as graphics go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So another 1st person POV! What's up with this? I think all my entries have been in this POV. I don't know why, though. I mean, I'm not surprised Lance came out this way. He used to be entirely in 1st person. I'm trying to shift him out of it, but he's resistant.

Anyways, Lance was the first character I ever came up with. His character is one that has been developing for years (since I was 11 or 12) and believe me, there's no one nearer or dearer to my heart. This is him reflecting on himself and the path he's taken, the hero's path he thought he wanted. Cliffnotes: Lance was an orphan taking care of his sister among the street urchins in the capital city of his country. (it's not named //grimaces//) When he got a bit older he became the leader of a small rebel "gang" who, as they grew up, became true rebels harassing the corrupt king and his greedy soldiers. But the king manages to have his sister kidnapped, Lance's one weakness, and kills the monks who gave him and his men refuge. He forces Lance to work for him, instead of against him, for the life of his sister, and Lance complies, becoming everything he hates in order to fight another day and to save his sister.

Man! Cliffnotes version doesn't even come close to the depth of the story, the turmoil, the tragedy, the beauty... I feel like I'm selling him short! And there really is so much more to the story I haven't even mentioned yet! But I'm just trying to give you a bare idea of who he is. //sighs// It felt so good to don him again, to write and speak with his voice, to adapt his habits, to see with his eyes a world that exists only in my mind... His voice is so clear in my head!

Anyways, I'll let you tell me what you think now, if you read all this, and do please leave a comment! I love to read them.

TTFN
Fool

Oh. Oh! OH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

//BREATHES// //breathes// //sighs//

Ok! I'm ok! I just ... I saw... and it was... ... OMG! I just saw the very first trailer for "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

//AHEM//

Yes. It was good. Very good. OMG! Ok! Calm thoughts. Mm-hm! OMG! I might just die! //gasp in a bucket// Hee! Hee hee! hooooooooo! Kay.

Yes, it was featured on comcast so I looked at it. I watched it. I screamed. For a very long time. I bounced. I watched it again. I screamed again. Yea. Then I came here. Oh man! Oh man oh man oh man! I can't wait. I'm gonna die. I'm not gonna be able to take this. Actually, I'm not gonna die, but ........... Fuck! Shit! Damn it! Crap in a Bucket! OH MAN!!!!!!!!! I can't take it!

Rabid.................

FAAANGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TTFN
Fool

(P.S. I'll be ok, folks. I swear!)