Have $10.50 Burning a Hole in Your Pocket?

Here's an idea: GO SEE TANGLED!

This is legit the most adorable freaking movie. Disney's 50th animated film definitely lives up to the legacy of Walt. I laughed, I cried, I didn't regret spending the $15 to see it in 3D. Her hair was so stunningly wonderfully animated I wanted to cry and the sequences with her parents were so moving I legit did cry. Fabulous. Not to mention Pascal (the lizard) is the cutest sidekick since Meko <3

EDIT: If this doesn't make your eyes get all teary, you have no soul.

Baby All I Want for Christmas Is You

Turn on B101. Do you hear that?? That, my friends, is the sound of everyones "favorite time of the year" (or so everyone claims, but all I ever hear is whining, personally) once again overstepping its universal Black Friday boundaries once again. Is it really so hard for everyone to hold their ho-ho-hos until after Thanksgiving?!?

Oh well, consumerism at its finest, don't tell me you haven't gone shopping yet. I have, though all I've made little progress on anyone's gifts other than mine. However, I did get a bangin' pair of boots and a kick-ass new Star Wars poster. So I'm happy as a clam. But, I'm home for break, so I figured I'd share some quick shots of my day, spent scouring the county with a certain somebody to find a certain un-findable confectionery.

Move over Edward, they need more room for the Bellatrix/Snape lunchboxes ;D



THIS HAS BEEN ON MY CHRISTMAS LIST FOR THE LAST 4 YEARS!
They finally started making them again!



This was pretty freakin' sweet.

And thus, with my first trip(s) to Toys-R-Us in probably several years, the holiday season has begun. Wish lists are flying through Cyberspace, Ebay is working out all it's kinks, Target is stocking its shelves for black Friday, and the Turkey hasn't even become leftovers yet. Sad, sad, sad.

In other news, now that I'm home for the holiday I've started A. thinking of crafty gifts for everyone I know and B. crafting a new project for myself revolving around a few of my greatest loves, childhood, steampunk, and shooting helpless people with bits of high-velocity foam. Any idea what it might be!? HINT

Hopefully, updates to come soon, but right now I'm off to make CAKE BALLS with the family (idk, they're this dessert-thing my mom has a recipe for, apparently they're good. Check your sexual innuendos at the door kids.)

It's A Bird! It's A Plane! It's...

What's that sound, you ask!? Why, it's the sound of one of the items getting crossed off my bucket list!!

Oh yes, I'm sure you've all forgotten by now all the wondrous and completely mundane goals I set for myself somewhere back in the day on this very blog. But I have not! In fact, just this weekend I crossed off item #2! A secret lifelong dream of mine:

perform onstage

Ladies and gentlemen, I will be signing autographs after this posting... ;) haha but in all seriousness it was actually not very big of a deal at all, I was just in the ensemble - don't get crazy. But I feel absolutely fantastic and am so glad I grew a pair and got involved with such a great experience. All the cast was utterly wonderful and fucking talented as shit. Every single one of them, and I'm so glad I got the opportunity to perform with them.

Look out Broadway here I come!

Story Writing Exercises?

So, I figure I should use this blog to somewhat increase my writing skills, right? Why write if not for thine self and the betterment of thine writing? So I stumbled upon these writing exercises and shall now write non-edited stream of consciousness responses to them here and now (maybe not all six since it's 2am and I have very limited brain function, but I'll try, for you dear readers).

Write the first 250 words of a short story, but write them in ONE SENTENCE. Make sure that the sentence is grammatically correct and punctuated correctly. This exercise is intended to increase your powers in sentence writing. (It's only 207, so sue me)
I have always loved railroad tracks, the seemingly endless way they run out to the horizon, the wonder and excitement that lays at their end, the strange and interesting people along the way - the idea of endless days and nights of hundreds of people with hundreds of ideas and thoughts and lives all linked together everyday unknowingly by the unforgiving parallel bars of their local train system; though they'll never know anything of one another except what they can gather from what's been left behind, a half-completed crossword puzzle, a forgotten novella, a disregarded short story fragment written on a napkin (you never know where that might lead) the only clues you have, the only tiny glimpses to the lives that are happening in perfect sync - at least for the duration of the journey - with yours, though they may not be coming from the same place or headed to your stop, their life story, for these few precious moments, is in perfect and complete harmony with your own; where are they going in such a hurry, do they have loved ones there, have they been there before, what awaits them at the end of the line, and what, for that matter awaits you.

Write a dramatic scene between two people in which each has a secret and neither of them reveals the secret to the other OR TO THE READER.
"Oh jesus LeAnne, not another glass of wine." Not again, not tonight, Mitch facepalms as the attractive brunette across from him signals to the nearest server. He nonchalantly checks the bills in his wallet, thumbing the ones.
"Bullshit Mitchel. Here, have one yourself." She fiddles in purse for a tip for the waiter and pauses before handing Mitchel the glass. Running her finger gently around the glass rim she snaps the tiny vial in her purse shut. "Maybe it'll loosen you up." Mitch squirms in the chair.
"You know I hate red wine. You're drawing too much attention to us dear, can't we just lie low tonight? You always make such a scene." His phone beeps its familiar text tone and both jump. Mitch glances into his lap and then jerks his head up to scan the restaurant; nothing unusual.
"God, you're such a schitz." LeAnne  rolls her eyes and applies a fresh coat of cherry red lipstick in her compact. Mitch hears a faint clink of metal on metal as she returns it to her purse. He avoids her eyes and instead considered the picturesque street view out the window over her shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I need to power mah nose deary." Her six inch stiletto heels clack smartly on the Italian tile as she crosses the dining room, narrowly avoiding a collision with a tray-laden waiter. She snatches the falling cheese-grater from his tray and flips it back without blinking.
"Goddamn it." Mitch whispers, completely oblivious of the actions of his guest. His cell rattles again and he types back a rapid response. He makes eye contact with a rather large and mustached man two tables over who shakes his jowls confidently before going back to his herb crusted salmon. A fellow diner brushes against Mitch from behind and he feels the hairs on his neck come to rapt attention. 
"Watch yourself Mitchel. He's not happy." A phrase, so quiet only he can hear it, uttered in his ear, and then nothing. He dares not spin, nor react. They know. They all know. They're here. He's here. Mitch allows himself a brief look up over his salad. The waiters seem to be avoiding his gaze. The busboys snicker. Do they know?
"Ugh, a place like this, you'd think they'd spring for nicer johns." LeAnne rejoins him, Her short red dress riding up as she returns to her seat. "You've barely touched your wine Mitchel. Lighten up..." She takes note of the beads of sweat on his forehead, the tiny tremors of his wrists. Always a worry wart ol' Mitch. Maybe this time for good reason. She winks at the passing waitress, a tall and slender blonde woman and nods, so tiny that Mitch cannot see. Suddenly a crash from the kitchens, a commotion from the back. Heads turn, necks crane. From the front window, the sound of breaking glass. Before the patrons know what has happened, a scream. The blonde waitress is standing over LeAnne and Mitch's table, the pair of them lie dead on the floor, two neat gunshots to their temples. LeAnne's purse has been upended on the restaurant floor, a Colt .45, and glass vial lay beside her body. Clutched in Mitch's hand, partially obscuring a bright distinctive tattoo, a switchblade rests against his wrist, poised and ready.


Write a narrative descriptive passage in a vernacular other than your own. Listen to the way people speak in a bar, restaurant, barber shop, or some other public place where folks who speak differently ("He has an accent!") from you, and try to capture that linguistic flavor on the page.
"Oy! Ye there! First yers! Over 'ere!" Bloody scamps ne'er know where they be goin'. That's why you were there, yer job was to show the little first years 'ow things work about theses parts. Lantern high you weave through the crowds to the little blighters, 'uddled in the very back 'o the crowd, shakin' like leaves on that ther' Whompin' Willow. "First yers! This way!" Ye wave at 'em and they're all just too darn scared to move but a muscle. Catchin' a glimpse of red in the crown, ye break into a grin. "Ye be a Weasley, ain't yer?" Little scrap of a mite, he be. But 'es got 'is father's uncanny hair and 'is mother's face. "Ron and 'ermione's boy I take?" 'e nods. "Ar, it be mighty nice to see a redhead in these 'alls again..."
Oh cut me a break, it's 3am. I enjoyed myself. Hope you did too. Welcome to a brief snippet of my brain....

My 'A-ha' Moment

So, I had an a-ha moment last night (and no, not like a 'Take On Me' moment - although that video is epic!). I figured out why I blog. It was amazing. It just hit me as I was bawling down in the basement.

I blog because I hate other people seeing me upset. I hate unloading my shit on people who clearly have better things to do. I don't like bothering people with my issues, especially because half the things that really upset me are stupid and not worth being upset over. And then the fact that I have no one to talk to because I don't want to bother anyone upsets me more. But really, that's my big thing, I don't like people seeing me a wreck. Like, I try to have as few people as possible see/hear me cry (do those who've put up with me, your medals are in the mail...) So, my solution? Sit behind a keyboard where no one can see me and bitch about things that bother me. That way, no one is forced to deal with my problems, but I get the therapeutic value of telling someone about what annoys me. Plus. I don't have to go into specifics, name names, or get really detailed about anything, and if you don't care about what I'm writing about, you can stop. It's perfect. I get to talk and no one has to listen.

Well, that and I love to write and I love to talk (primarily about myself) but also about my opinions on stupid things and share all the fun shit I find in my day-to-day life. It keeps me sane. So, here's a big thank you to you all out there wondering when I'm going to stop rambling and write something of substance (NEVER!!!)

Need A Laugh? Who Are You Kidding? That's Why You're Here...

This video will A. put a smile on your face and B. get hopelessly lodged in your frontal lobe for WEEKS.

Enjoy.

I Took 2 Psych Classes, So Naturally Now I Know It All

I was thinking today, as I braved the tundra that campus has become, about technology and it's utter destruction of human nature. Now let me first assert that I am 100% a slave to my keyboard as much as everyone else, I'm a product of a texting generation, and a new Microsoft version has come pretty much ever year I've lived, and am guilty of all I speak. I'm merely observing (aren't we all?). But I truly think that technology and electronic communication are breaking down the ways that we view people, and more importantly deal with them and their emotions. I think that all the typing rather than face-to-face communication is slowly ruining our ability to relate to others, understand their feelings and opinions, and sympathize. Because on a computer or cell phone we can simply ignore, refresh, or navigate away from anything we dislike or disagree with in a matter of nanoseconds we can't deal face-to-face with situations that we are uncomfortable with or don't like. Everything becomes awkward because we can't 'x-out' of a conversation in person like we can online. We can't hide behind user names and passwords, or plead a bad connection. As a result we forget how to deal with others in real life and have little patience with slow service or response time that other humans offer. We seek the instant gratification and lighting fast speed of the Internet, Skype, facebook, myspace, AIM, and email and have no time to wait for real-time reactions. We forget that witty remarks don't just fall from our lips as they do from our fingers. We forget in real life we can't just pull up another window and google the answer to a question to look smart. We forget that people get upset for reason that we can't understand but that they still need our understanding. We forget that, when dealing in people and not web pages, we need to face problems - both our own and the people around us's - even though it might not be the most ideal thing to think about at the time (I mean, really, when is a 'good time' to think about a problem anyway?). Tempers get short, fuses blow, relationships, friendships end because we've severely crippled our ability to communicate with other human beings. I feel like this lack of patience for others contributes to higher divorce rates overall and, on a smaller scale, just generally higher instances of petty drama. People can't see from other's point of a view and as a result just get frustrated and explosive about it, saying things they can't backspace and doing things that they can't just type 'jk lol' after. I know that I personally, don't understand why people do so much of the crap they do, but when it comes down to it, I think I'm okay at sympathising with peoples motivations and feelings although I don't exactly understand or even approve of them. We're all different and there are so many influences and factors in every little thing we do that it's impossible to completely understand everyone's reasoning for everything (because most times they themselves don't even know the full reason - hello subconscious!). I just feel like we're all pretty bad at understanding everyone else (excluding probably a very small group of the people you're closest too and know the most about) and the addition of electronic distance in 99% of our interactions with people isn't helping that fact any. Do I know the solution to this? No. Am I even right in my thinking? Probably not. But it's food for thought. Particularly if (and you probably are) in any sort of conflict/spat/awkward situation/strained relationship with anyone at this present time (you are SOOO lying if you say you're not). Just, try a little harder to relate to them before going and tweeting shit on them, okay? For my sanity's sake.

Live long and prosper.