Popping need not apply.

Don't worry, I'm still here!


I'm just in this bubble.


I'll explain what the bubble is later.





p.s. Don't freak, I'm not in an ACTUAL bubble. It's a metaphor. Kinda.

No one gives a crap about my new shoes.

Blogging is like riding a bike and


Oh, hey!
That was 5 hours ago.
Blogging is not like riding a bike at all. That was a horrible analogy and a horrible way to start a blog because I was desperate for a clever intro.

You never forget how to ride a bike. I am almost 88% positive that I've forgotten how to blog. But I'm gonna fix that because when I don't share my ridiculous pieces of insight with you lovelies I feel like there's a gaping hole in my heart and in the bubble consisting of my creativity.

But there's just one problem.
I lied. There's a bunch of problems but this is the most significant one.

I still feel like I have nothing interesting to say. So I'm going to go to a default subject which is MOVIES. Here's my list and I'll even include the trailers because I love you.

1. Whip It
I don't think I even need to explain why this is numero uno. Just watch and understand. Please.
2. Love Happens
I'm a sucker for a good love story. And this has the word love in the title which is like, bonus points.
3. Where the Wild Things Are
My first literary love. I even downloaded the song featured in the movie called "All is Love" by Karen O on itunes.
4. Zombieland
How could you NOT want to see this movie.
5. Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs
Okay yeah I get that it's a movie for tots, but FOOD IS FALLING FROM THE SKY.

And of course you know by now that I want to see New Moon more than all of these movies put together and I'm counting how many days are left until November 20th (52. I think.) but I figured I would give my obsessive behavior a rest.

It's so complicated when people invite you to go see a movie that you really really really want to see. And I know that that probably made no sense, but think about it.

When you go see a movie you know you'll love, you want the experience to be perfect. Perfect seats, perfect snacks, perfect outfit even though you're sitting in the dark and no one gives a crap about your new shoes.

But what if someone wants to sit way up in the ridiculously far away seats and you want to sit closer and then they try to eat your snacks and maybe even step on your new shoes when they get up during A REALLY GOOD PART to go to the bathroom?

This is a serious issue, people.

What an awkward way to end a blog.

More
soon
promise!

Even more awkward, I know.

A lazy blogger's list.

I've been spending my time:

1. Fulfilling required and excruciatingly boring hours of school work.
2. Watching the beautiful and magnificent new New Moon trailer and never getting sick of the way the butterflies in my stomach go psycho every time Edward is shown.
3. Playing an unhealthy amount of the Sims 2.
4. Being scolded by my mom for playing an unhealthy amount of said game. She's only looking out for me, after all.
5. Talking on the phone with friends from my old school until I find myself waking up and realizing that it's morning and I'm in my clothes from yesterday and my neck hurts and my phone is mysteriously wedged under my thigh and I love run-on sentences.

and completely neglecting you guys.
I am so
so
so
so
sorry.

Seriously. I don't even have the energy to make up some witty anecdotal excuse.

Tomorrow is the day I bring you an actual blog. Promise.



So tomorrow.
It's a date.

Vague.

I want to experience the feelings that I had today over and over again.



But then again, there were some feelings that I never want to come face to face with for the rest of time.

Today was amazing.


But complicated.

Not so sneaky.

A tidbit of a conversation I just had with my mom:

Me: It's a good thing you finally bought me more honey, this way I won't have to fix my sugar cravings by drinking your vanilla coffee creamer.

Mom: You drink my coffee creamer while I'm at work?

Me: What?

Mom: ...

Me: No.

Intoxicated Pirates.

I got harassed by a drunk pirate tonight, and I'm totally not joking, and you're probably really confused. So let's start from the beginning like we always do.

My mom has this best friend who always wears her hair in a french twist and cusses like a sailor, and tonight she took my mom and I out to this gorgeous seafood restaurant overlooking the harbor.

It was absolutely enchanting. I had the best coconut shrimp and rice pilaf I will ever have, and loved every second of being able to see the twinkling city lights in the distance.

So after we left my now favorite restaurant, we decided to walk along the pier because we all agreed that we looked too cute NOT to walk along the pier.

And we wanted to scope out the rich guy situation.

And can I just say that there were SO many yachts. So many yacht parties. So many people smelling like cigarettes and beer.

So anyway, to the point. And I know you're probably relieved because this is the soonest I've ever gotten to a point. We walked by a restaurant entitled "Jolly Rogers" (classy, right?) and as soon as we did out came a group of people dressed as pirates.

"Arr!" Growled the tallest of the bunch, who was obviously intoxicated. "We be lovin' the Jolly Rogers!"

My mom and her friend burst out laughing, and I just kind of smiled and nodded at the pirates. I've always liked the idea of pirates, even intoxicated ones. Because all pirates are alcoholics. They can't help it.

BUT WHY IS THE RUM GONE?!

Anyway, a shorter pirate with his arm slung around a fellow female pirate's shoulders pointed a wobbly finger at me and said "Yarr! We do, we do! But you wenches be dressed funny!"

I don't know which insult was worse, the fact that he called me a wench or the fact that he didn't like my outfit. But my mom's friend quickly thought of a reply faster than I could due to her lack of speech filter and said, quite loudly "Well your hat looks like you need to feed it!"

And it DID look like an animal. It was a bunch of huge feathers clumped together and looked like some kind of shaggy creature. But continuing on with my love of pirates I said "Yeah, but I kinda like it," with a shrugged shoulder.

But the pirates didn't care about my optimism regarding their fashion, they just stumbled over to a nearby sweet shop and probably proceeded to infuriate the poor employee working there that night. I still feel bad for whoever they are.

And then this next part has to be one of the most exciting things to happen to me EVER. I saw this guy who happens to be Kai Kalama who happens to have been on AMERICAN IDOL.

I know you think I'm crazy and that I imagined it, but I stand firm in my belief that I didn't. Here's why:

1. He sang "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted" and made the crowd clap on the show, and that's one of my favorite oldie songs EVER, and I don't forget someone who is able to sing so well that the audience is actually in sync with their clapping. Even if he did only make it to the first round.
2. I just looked up his information because I'm a celebrity obsessed stalker, and I found out he lives in SAN CLEMENTE. Which is like 5 MINUTES AWAY FROM THE CITY I WAS IN. And therefore the city he was also in.

So of course it was him.

I realized it was him just as he was walking away after talking to a crowd of friends, and after I had done about five double takes to make sure it was him so that I wouldn't get teased about it later if it wasn't him, I tugged at my mom's friend's shirt sleeve and whispered "I think that guy was on American Idol!"

But it took her awhile to hear this as she was so engrossed in a conversation with my mom, and when she finally did pay attention to what I was saying she pretty much shouted "WHO? WHERE? REALLY?" which was followed by a round of shushing from me.

Just as she caught a glimpse of him, he was already too far away to chase down, and when my mom's friend desperately asked me his name so that she could obnoxiously yell it out in the hope that he would turn around and we could have an experience that would later result in stories about how we actually TALKED to someone from American Idol, I couldn't remember. Not even the first letter. I went blank.

But I know it was him. No one has hair like that.

And on our way back to the car we saw another group of pirates, a different group from before, and one of the guys even yelled out "Look, Wenches!"

What is with this wench stuff.

It kind of makes me lose a little bit of love for pirates.


.....

Actually, no. That's not possible.

Long lost curls.

I HAVE CURLS.

One thing you have to understand about me is that I NEVER HAVE CURLS.

Since I was about 5.

When I was 3-5 years old I had a head of huge ringlets. And they literally looked like they had been perfectly perfected for hours with a curling iron when I had actually just woken up that way.

But then when I turned 5 years old they all just fell out.

And I was left with very unpredictable, very frustrating, and very frizzy waves.

Not pretty waves.

And I had to live my life quite miserably like that until I discovered the miracle that is the straightening iron when I was 12. And since then, it's been sleek all the time and every time.

Until yesterday.

I was long overdue for a haircut and beginning to look kind of like a stringy hippie, so my mom took me to the cousin of one of the women she works with, who works at a super chic salon.

The kind of hair salon you walk into and instantly think your outfit is all wrong because everyone in there looks so much better than you.

And can I just say, the process was AMAZING.

She literally asked me stuff about my hair the whole time.

How do I like my bangs, do I want the back more layered, do I want her to cut it so that I have more body, what kind of shampoo do I use because this shampoo would be so much better, do I want her to cut it like this so that when I style it it'll look like this, do I want her to part it how I usually do, and then, the question that changed my life:

Do you want your curls to go out, or in?

I honestly thought that I had heard her wrong.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, adjusting the cape thing around my neck because it practically had me in a chokehold.

She just smiled knowingly, like so many people before me were oblivious to their curl preference also. "Do you want them to go in near your face, or away from it?"

"You can do that?" I asked, aghast.

She nodded as she plugged in the giant curling iron.

"You mean, you can do that with my hair?"

She nodded and smiled again. Looking back on this, she probably thought there was something wrong with me or that the part of my brain that stored hair related information went slower than the rest.

And so, after blissful half hour full of hair dryers and seemingly porcupine-esque looking brushes and big curling irons and mango scented spritzing spray, I was transformed.

I can't even describe what she did or how she did it, but somehow my hair came out looking like this.

But with my face, of course. And my color hair. And my curls were more ringlets instead of loose waves like in the picture.

She had told me while she was cutting my hair that my layers would be like Kim Kardashian's, hence my inspiration to show you that photo, and that when they were straight they would be soft, flowy layers. And then she showed me a way to make my hair straight WITHOUT USING A STRAIGHTENING IRON and instead using a lot of the porcupine brush and hair dryer.

So I sit here, my curls still intact but a little bit looser than yesterday, thoroughly happy with my hair.

I can't wait until I have to style it on my own like this.

And I don't mean that sarcastically.

I really, honestly, can't wait.

Makeup hates me now.

I keep doing that thing where I wear a tank top, get too cold, put a shirt on over my tank top.

Get too hot, take off the shirt and am once again in my tank top.

COLD AGAIN, put on the shirt.

HOT AGAIN.

This went on for a good 10 minutes until I finally realized that maybe I should just wear the shirt, no tank top underneath.

The two layers were just killing me.

Story of the day: I broke a tube of lipstick at Target.

If you're asking yourself how this is possible, ask no longer. I'm going to tell you.

My mom and I were standing in the little NYC brand alcove of the makeup section, and while my mom was calmly examining the eyeliner, comparing different brands of mascara; generally behaving like a normal human being, I was digging through the lipstick rack with a vengeance.

THEY NEVER HAVE MY FAVORITE SHADE.

So, get ready for this because it's the return of The Elbow.

As I'm sticking my arm quite far into the various assortments of lipstick, The Elbow knocks over a bunch of lipstick in the process.

And they fall to the ground.

So I sigh, bend down and get ready to reverse the damage, and I end up walking through the aisle to search for the lipsticks as they rolled in directions no where near the NYC alcove.

When suddenly, something crunches under my foot. You have to realize that today I got a little overexcited at the idea of Autumn returning, and I wore my boots. With the heel.

I think you understand what happened next. The most comical part of all though, is the way my mom looked at my expression, looked down at the now scattered plastic that was once the cap to the doomed lipstick, looked at me again, and wandered off toward the nail polish.

Is it a bad sign that she's used to me wreaking small amounts of havoc in public?

We quickly made our way to the register with our purchases and left before anyone could suspect that it was me, if you're wondering.

Oh, well. If she's used to it then I might as well be too.

I'm off to finish cleaning the heel of my boot. The hot-pink-stained heel of my boot.

Believe me, if I had to choose a color to smother on my shoe, it would not have been that one.

Multiple Personalities

I'm currently reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower and An Abundance of Katherines. AT THE SAME TIME.

And brushing my teeth. But that's like, right this second.

I just had sudden inspiration to write this, because it's so amazing to read the two at the same time and have the chance to compare their perspectives. I normally try to read one book at a time, because I'm neurotic. So this is a big freaking deal, trust me.

And no spoilers. I swear.

In Perks, you have Charlie, who's got this incredibly, almost accidental, perceptive nature. And then you have Colin. Who's utterly ignorant toward anything even resembling perception because he's so focused on what could never be.

Intriguing, right? Being haunted by your future instead of your past. I can kind of relate.

It's almost a little unsettling reading about two people that are so different from eachother. It's like I have three separate personalities bouncing around in my head.

Including my own.

And it's odd that I chose to read these two books at the same time. They're so completely opposite. You'd think I would have chosen to read two different John Green books at the same time, or The Catcher in The Rye with Perks. But not me.

I'm seriously enjoying this whole new thing that's happening. I'm not even sure what's happening.

I'll keep you posted.

I will save my cactus.

I hate it when guys act like napkins.

Is it so hard for them to say what they really mean? And then possibly give me a reason WHY they're saying what they mean?

Actually, that MIGHT be too much to ask.

But it's not if he really loves her.

Sigh.

I wonder if it's possible to overdose on Airheads.

Or not.

Either way, they can't be good for my health.

My mom decided that the two of us are going to have breakfast for dinner, so she's in the kitchen cooking bacon as we speak. It's becoming increasingly difficult to try and resist pausing this and running in there to snatch a piece off of the plate.

Oh, why not.

I'm back.

I'm sure you think it's not possible to kill a cactus, right? Think again. Mine is dying a slow and painful death. I'm doing all I can to bring it back to it's former health but I think it wants to go just to be away from me and my poor gardening skills.

Any tips would put me in the best mood ever. But I probably sound like a moron, because how hard is it to care for a cactus, right?



I love my mom and her spontaneity. She doesn't let circumstance effect her decision to do something, she just does it. And it usually turns out to be lovely.

Or a complete disaster.

Either way, it's always worth it.


I'm sorry that these are just random tidbits with no structure or particular subject, but I promise my next blog will be a real blog.

Until next time, loves.

Growth Spurt

I love it when little kids have adult names.

Like when a five year old is called Melvin or George or Phil.
Or Judy or Patsy or Nancy.


I halfway expect them to walk around in little business suits with little cell phones, checking their watch every 5 seconds and becoming impatient when they're in the elevator for too long.

Whispering to cookies.

Today I discovered that when I talk on the phone with someone and they start whispering for whatever reason taking place on their end, I begin to whisper too.

I have no idea why I do this.

I think it has something to do with wanting to be on their level. Like if I talk louder than they're capable of I'm just obnoxious and ignorant toward their predicament.


I'm starting to figure out what being myself actually means.

So far I know it has to do with baking chocolate chip cookies with no makeup on and dancing around the kitchen.

Let's not exclude singing into the cookie dough covered spoon like a lunatic.



Life is delicious.



Oh, here's another tidbit of self-discovery for you: I've decided I am in love with John Krasinski.

And I don't mean Hollywood crush type of love, I mean I might ACTUALLY be in love.

Confusing, I know. I love his voice.



I also love the song French Navy by Camera Obscura.
Go on, go have a listen.

This is the reason to cry over spilled sugar.

I don't know how it happened, or how it was even possible, but I knocked over a jar of sugar.

It's EVERYWHERE, you guys. Today is kind of a science lesson for me, because I now know how far sugar can spread.

This just proves that I probably have a handicap.

A reflex type handicap. The kind where I'll have to have people reach up and get things for me to avoid this type of lethal destruction.

Seriously. I am still at odds with the whole situation. I find myself thinking HOW? REALLY, HOW? when I look at the mess. The mess that happens to still be there in all of its sugar glory, because informing you gorgeous people is more important than cleaning.

In order to help me understand the situation further, I am going to explain what happened, and if you're still reading this you're either insane or ridiculously cool.

I think you're ridiculously cool.

I was heating up a cup of tea in the microwave because I absolutely need to drink tea for my CREATIVE PROCESS. Because I like to sound like a SNOOTY AUTHOR.

THAT'S RIGHT.

Sorry.

Anyway, my microwave is in the air. Above the oven. It's suspended in midair above my oven.

No, I wish. It's attached to the cabinets above my oven but in a way it's suspended in midair too. I like to think it is.

And I was sitting on the counter smelling the jar of sugar because I really enjoy sugar, when I suddenly heard the microwave yelping its confirmation that my tea was, in fact, heated. I placed the jar of sugar carefully on the counter, near the edge, BAD MOVE, and brought down my tea from the magical wingardium leviosa induced microwave, not realizing that the cup would be SCALDING HOT LIKE FIRE.

I have another strange process, and it involves dancing around like a lunatic when I touch something hot. I ran to the counter on which I had placed the sugar and hastily threw down the cup as carefully as I could without spilling the lava like substance, and this is it, this is where my plan tragically crumbled.

My elbow.

Oh, my stupid, clumsy, careless elbow. The very same elbow that has caused me so many problems in my past. The same elbow that has injured my best friend's eye by mistake. The same elbow that has jabbed itself into a guy's stomach not by mistake. The same elbow that has, on more than one occasion, ran into a wall or an open door.

The elbow.

As I was shoving the cup as far away from myself as possible and trying to make a break toward the sink to rinse my fingers under chilly water (I can't say freezing water because our faucets are temperamental), my elbow swung and knocked over the jar of sugar.

And then there it was, cascading from the counter and onto the floor below like a white waterfall.

I honestly didn't know what to do. My first impulse was to cry because I knew this was going to involve a broom and I hate brooms. The only brooms that I like are the Harry Potter kind.

So instead, I plopped myself on that sugar dusted floor and just watched my life play out before my very eyes.

And then I heard a familiar song playing from the television in the living room, and realized Romeo + Juliet was on HBO.

Problem solved.

I'll go get the broom now.

Ag.

Book Survey, k?

1. What author do you own the most books by? Sarah Dessen, Jo Rowling, and E. Lockhart. I love each of them with everything inside of me. Not to be creepy, or anything.

2. What book do you own the most copies of? Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. Dose.

3. Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions? Stop it. Just stop it.

4. What fictional character are you secretly in love with? This is no secret, as I shout their names while I run through hallways when I'm feeling particularly lonely. Get ready for a list that's long enough to be rolled out and used as a pathway to mexico: Harry Potter (everyone knows he's my husband), Dean Thomas (this one was out of my hands because everyone knows that I am also, in fact, Ginny), Draco Malfoy (before the receding hairline), Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter (yes, I realize I just described 3/4 of the Maruaders, and I'm not putting Peter for obvious reasons), Rex Taggart, Wes Baker, Dexter Jones, Norman (his last name is a mystery, as it's buried underneath all of his his hot hippy-ness), Noel Duboise, Pudge Halter, Seb Mantegna, Rusty James, and Dallas Winston. Even though I'm probably not allowed to like him. Oh well.

5. What book have you read the most times in your life (excluding picture books read to children; i.e., Goodnight Moon does not count)? I've read Prisoner of Azkaban so many times that the description of Honeydukes will be forever engraved in my mind, Half-Blood Prince 4 times, The Outsiders at least 4 times, Rumble Fish 4 times, Peaches 4 times (I'm sensing a pattern here, and I have a feeling you are too), and I try to read Keeping the Moon at least once a year, because it helps me with things I have yet to find the answer to.

6. What was/were your favorite book(s) when you were ten years old? Nothing's Fair in Fifth Grade, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Are you there God? It's me, Margaret, Number the Stars, Ramona the Pest, Ramona the Brave, and Ramona and Her Father.

7. What is the worst book you've read in the past year? The second half of Breaking Dawn was pretty horrific. Actually, Breaking Dawn as a whole was pretty horrific. I didn't know when to gag or cringe or just throw it out the window, or better yet, burn it so that I could spare another human being from finding it.
That was harsh. I know.

8. What is the best book you've read in the past year? Man, oh man, do I dislike picking favorites, but fine, you got me. Cracked Up to Be by Courtney Summers.
Just one more. Please? Thank you. The Treasure Map of Boys by E. Lockhart.

9. If you could force everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be? Peaches by Jodi Lynn Anderson because it's one of my horcruxes. Yes, just one.

10. What book would you most like to see made into a movie? Eclipse. Oh wait, they're already doing that.
Yes, I fudged out on this question because why on earth would I want to see an actor slaughter a character that I love? It was bad enough watching Bonnie Wright try to potray me on the big screen. Ugh. The horror.

11. What book would you least like to see made into a movie? Breaking Dawn. But I'm going to see it anyway because I want to see how they plan to do the whole Fountain of Blood Childbirth thing.

12. Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I dream about Harry Potter on a weekly basis, and that might be weird, but...I enjoy it.

13. What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult? I'm technically not an adult, but I cannot stress it enough: Breaking Dawn is a stain on the white t-shirt of literature.

14. What is the most difficult book you've ever read? Dreamland, because the whole time I read it I was either choking back tears or blowing my nose or wanting to dive into the book like an otherwordly ghost and chase Rogerson with a fireplace poker.

15. What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you've seen? I've only seen Romeo and Juliet, and it's not all that obscure. But it's desperately romantic and I love it.

16. Do you prefer the French or the Russians? Sigh. You make me feel like an uneducated moron.

17 and 18 are missing here because I am an idiot who doesn't know how to paste what she's copied and then separate the sentences that are all smushed together, and I'm too lazy to fix it. Moving on.

19. Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer? Shakespeare because I, my friend, am unoriginal and proud of it.

20. Austen or Eliot? Austen Austen AUSTEN.

21. What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading? I don't want to talk about it. It's bad for my mental health.

22. What is your favorite novel? Picking favorites is also bad for my health. Fine. FINE. The Outsiders, even though there's like 3 others. I'm just throwing that one out there for some variety.
Oh, and Keeping the Moon. And Cracked Up to Be. And The Ruby Oliver series. And Looking for Alaska. Don't hate me.

23. Play? Romeo and Juliet because I want to illustrate my unoriginality further.

24. Poem? I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth, because that poem runs through my mind everytime I witness something beautiful.

25. Essay? "I've never read many essays outside of obligation." I'm agreeing with Hayley because she has nice hair.

26. Work of nonfiction? This is going to sound weird and judgemental, but I only like to read about things that haven't existed anywhere else except on the pretty pages they belong to. Basically, I don't read nonfiction and I wanted to say it in a fancy way.

27. Who is your favorite writer? E. Lockhart. John Green. Jo Rowling. Sarah Dessen. S.E. Hinton. I would've lost my sanity if I picked a favorite, I swear.

28. Who is the most overrated writer alive today? STEPHENIE MEYER. I'll say it once and I'll say it again for lack of followers on this tragic blog. STEPHENIE MEYER.

29. What is your desert island book? Deathly Hallows. I always find new meaning each time I read it.

30. And... what are you reading right now? I just finished The Treasure Map of Boys, so tomorrow I'll embark on a new journey of literary bliss.

Apricots.

Everyone wants to know what "be yourself" actually means.










Well, I'll tell you sometime.

Bratty.

I've never been good at waiting because I am a demanding person.

So when I say I WANT DEATHLY HALLOWS AND NEW MOON TO COME TO MY LOCAL MOVIE THEATER RIGHT THIS INSTANT and it doesn't happen right that instant, I get anxious.

Ohhhh my life is so hard.


I'm beginning to realize that I get my life confused with the stories I make up. Or don't make up and just can't remember clearly since I try to block out my life from the time I arrive at school until the time I step off the bus.

I'm still not sure if I experienced that cheesy Romeo and Juliet scenario in ninth grade and it's driving me insane.

Maybe if I just believe it happened even if it didn't I'll be an overall happier person.

But what if it really DID happen?

I know I read for Juliet. I know a guy read for Romeo. Possibly. But was it the guy I sat next to?

Sweet Jesus.

Romeo in my 9th Grade English Class.

I had myself a good cry today.

Don't be alarmed. It was due to watching Romeo and Juliet. The Leonardo DiCaprio version.

In tenth grade I had an English teacher who believed that Shakespeare only wrote R+J to convey the damage that is inflicted when teenagers are allowed to decide for themselves. I disagree.

Or rather, I'm disagreeing for the sake of my well-being.

Like, honestly, how cynical could you get?

It's like choosing to believe in teaching the youth a lesson rather than in true love. It's ridiculous. It's like believing Edward only got with Bella so that he could eat her in the long run.

These people. I swear.

I had a really cheesy experience when we studied Shakespeare in ninth grade. I remember I was beyond thrilled when I was chose to read for Juliet and I was equally as eager when I realized that the guy I sat next to had a shot at reading for Romeo because he hadn't volunteered for anything yet, and I am a sap and I had a crush on him that I still have trouble admitting to myself. But it didn't work out that way.

A girl ended up reading for Romeo because Ms. Adams was adamant about the roles avoiding the whole gender specific thing, otherwise the same people would be volunteering to read all the time.

It was a very awkward experience.

But I think later on it did work out how I wanted it to, and I did get the chance to read the O Romeo Romeo where for art thou Romeo part with an actual male playing the part of Romeo. Possibly the one that I sat next to for the second semester of English.

But it could be a desperate figment of my imagination. I'm really not sure.

Maybe I'll call him and ask him someday. He left his number in my yearbook.

I'm almost positive we read the balcony scene together. Almost.

This is going to bother me until I figure it out.

Coffee and Vampires.

I am so wired right now it's not even funny.

I can barely type due to the jitters.

Here's the dealio. I had a massive migraine before I went to bed last night, and it WAS STILL THERE WHEN I WOKE UP. So I called my mom while she was on her way to work at like 6 this morning to whine about my discomfort, and she went all neurotic with worry because she has this problem of freaking out when she can't smooth out the problems in her kid's lives. I love my mom.

So she told me to drink coffee.

And I took that direction a little too far, and had a little too much Folgers. Mom drank all of the good coffee before she went to work so I was stuck with that gross stuff that looks like dirt.

But here is the bright side: MY HEADACHE IS GONE :D!

That story had no point to it. I just needed something to do with my hands, because if I don't put their energy into something productive I just sit here shaking like this kid I used to go to school with. He took a lot of pills.


SO.

To give this blog some purpose, I am now going to give you a scene by scene analysis of the new New Moon 14 second teaser trailer, while I sit here and feel like I have a million jumping beans bouncing around in my veins.

Here we go.



00:00 to 00:04 - Bella looks like REALLY really pretty in New Moon. Like prettier than she did in Twilight, and even then I thought there was a certain charm in her huge jackets and headband. I was having a conversation with my friend Victor last night about her new look, and he said Bella looks pretty even when she's ugly.
So there you have it.

Jacob's voice saying "I know what he did to you, and Bella, I won't ever hurt you." while the the scene where Edward completely deserts Bella is shown, is such a diss to Edward. I love Edward. The only reason I'm going to see New Moon is A. Because I love Edward and B. Because I can't wait to see him and Bella reunite and C. Because Paul is a hottie and D. Because I can't wait. I am making no sense. Moving on.

00:04 to 00:06 - JACOB IS SO TAN. I mean, I know he's supposed to be. But he is SO TAN. And I can't stand his wig. I know I'm going to cringe every time they show him in his pre-wolf state, because he looks SO much better with the short 'do. And Bella's face in this scene breaks my heart. Kristen Stewart is an amazing actress. I don't care what anyone else says about her being snotty and monotone and awkward. Yes, she is awkward. But she's not snotty. She's just uncomfortable being in the spotlight and she's not going to be fake and pretend otherwise. You're all just jealous because she gets to kiss that fine piece.

00:006 - to the very end.- WHOA JACOB BUFF. MUSCLES.
Okay, I might be opposed to Taylor Lautner being our Jacob but he is really really ripped. That is dedication.

I am not Team Jacob, but I love when Bella says "You're sort of beautiful." because in New Moon, like, half the book is Bella describing how much she loves his russet skin.
Love how it's true to the book.

So overall, I think it's another amazing glimpse at New Moon and it makes me that much more excited for November 20th. Bravo, Chris Weitz.

P.S. Everyone is saying that these:




As in those abs, are fake.

I am choosing not to believe this for my own well-being.

The kid with the scar.

I'm kind of shocked and appalled at myself for forgetting Harry Potter's birthday.

Forget the fact that it was J.K. Rowling's birthday. I mean, I don't know her. Even though she's amazing.

But I'm practically married to Harry.

Almost.

And like, I FORGOT.

This would normally be the part where I begin to go on for a sickeningly long amount of time about how much I love Harry, But I'll spare you. We'll save it for a future blog, perhaps when Deathly Hallows comes to the big screen.

And by big screen I do not mean imax. That business gives me a headeache.

Anyway, Happy Belated Birthday, Harry. You made it.

Chocolates and Pods.

I am writing.

And I now more than ever support my theory regarding the fact that you have to be a smidgen insane to be a writer.


That is all.






p.s. How would you feel about a coffee shop called "The Chocolate Pod"?