Sunday, November 16, 2008


I have decided I’m looking forward to Christmas this year. I wasn’t at first because who knows what it’ll be like without my whole family here… but today when we went to Goodys they were playing Christmas music (and it wasn’t as bad as last years, surprisingly… well, except this one song where the lady sung REALLY out of key)… last year it drove me insane because they start playing Christmas music sooo early, but, it didn’t really bother me this time. In fact, I’ve missed it. We kinda missed Christmas last year being in the Keys in all, so yeah… I wanna watch all our traditional Christmas movies we watch every year, set up the tree and play the old records… yep. And even if it’s dorky and we don’t really do Christmas gifts I just don’t care… I wanna have a good Christmas.


Monday, October 27, 2008

i've been tagged

Rules consist of:
Link to the person (Lauren) who tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Write Six Random Things about yourself.
Tag a few other people at the bottom of the post and leave comments on their blogs to let them know they've been tagged.
And also let the person who tagged you know when you've written the post.

1. I get the hiccups whenever I eat pancakes, toast, carrots or hamburgers.
2. The longest I've ever gone without biting my nails is a week--and that was almost painfully hard.
3. The sound or feeling of wood scraping against teeth just kills me like a fingernail against a chalkboard.
4. I don't like pie.
5. I've watched Much Ado About Nothing about 5 times in a row and I'm still not sick of it... and I bet I could quote the Emperor's New Groove and Monty Python the whole way through.
6. I have a deadly fear of spiders.

I've always wondered what it would be like to get tagged... huh. It was actually kind of hard thinking up six things... lol... well, I hereby tag Kacie and Christa... yep, looks like everyone else I know on blogger has already been tagged.


Tuesday, October 21, 2008

boomin' out the computer screen

Last night I stayed up late doodling in my artbook. I haven’t been working on artwork much lately and I’d just been looking at sketches on google and I guess it inspired me because I can’t put my pencil down now… it’s fun, but I’m having a hard time keeping my characters modest. I know, that must sound awful but I can’t help it. A true artist learns the curves of the body and draws them out as a beautiful masterpiece, if I have to keep clothes on how are you supposed to see the body? Alright, so that wasn’t rightly put because most people probably say that to today’s skimpy fashion, but seriously, this is just my artwork and nobody really looks at it anyways. The female figure has always inspired me more than anything else when it comes to drawing, and that’s what I like to draw, so why not expand my talent? All the great artists back then didn’t bother to add clothes, why should I? I guess I just have to be careful how far I go with it—not to mention, who I let see my work.
I got this cute forward I love that goes like this: A girl asked a guy if he thought she was pretty. He said no. She asked him if he would want to be with her forever. And he said no. She then asked him if she were to leave would he cry, and once again he replied with a no. She had heard enough. As she walked away, tears streaming down her face the boy grabbed her arm and said... You’re not pretty, you're beautiful. I don't want to be with you forever, I NEED to be with you forever. And I wouldn't cry if you walked away...I'd die...
That is just about one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard… man, I wish someone’d say that to me!
Luke came charging into the living room this evening with a shirt and some tight sweats on. He was growling at Lydia and began hissing through his teeth, “Don’t make me mad… you don’t want to see me when I’m mad.” He then proceeded to take off his shirt while making his own sound effects. *Rip rip rip*. Then off went his pants—don’t worry he had shorts under them—running around the room like a crazy monkey shrieking and growling. He then ran down the stairs leaving his clothes on the floor and those of us who witnessed the “transformation” in hysterics. Hmm. Well, I think his impression of the Hulk was pretty good if I do say so myself.
The weather lately has been getting colder and colder… it makes me sad. It reminds me of grandma when she’d come up from Florida for Christmas. We’re going through another drought and our well is getting rather low. It didn’t bother me as much before because it’s supposed to rain during the spring and summer—but it hardly rains in the winter… this could be bad.
What’s been up with my fam: Lydia and Luke are reading the Bible now and whenever we have devotions they pray just about the longest prayers ever---I remember going through that stage. Peter just got over his “two month” cold—which we found out was allergies. Me, well, I’m the usual—except for a little something something going on with me and someone. Matt is going to Tri-County, he was working at the Comfort CafĂ© again but he quit because it was taking too much time that he needs to study. Steph is still in Florida working at Peir One, and Tim informed me she misses us! It’s amazing… lol… jk… Lauren and Tim are doing good—raising Isaac, writing another book, working on college… the usual I guess, but then, when is anything exactly like usual? Just read Lauren's blog. We still get emails from Noah every now and then telling us what he’s been up to over there in Laos. They’re very interesting emails because the grammar is usually all wrong, and he’s started referring to God as Papa… it’s rather hysterical. But yeah, he sounds like he’s doing good. I miss him, and Steph. Mom always seems to be filling out these surveys for Home Depot, Landsend, Country Living or whoever to win their store sweep stakes—and she’s handed the emailing homeschool work over to someone else so—amazingly—I won’t be called down here to help her figure out email stuff, as often, that is. Honestly I don’t know why she was chosen—or picked, I don’t know which—for that job because she knows nothing whatsoever about computers. Dad has allergies in the fall so his eyes are always pink and puffy and it kind of scares me. He’s still always pausing movies in the middle to give a history lesson… and he’s gotten very cautious about electricity savings and when I’m in my room he comes in and turns the light off on me. He bought a machine that changes videos into dvds---which is a good thing because our vcr just quit working I miss watching Disney cartoons.
Annnnd I'm afraid that's all I have to update on now... so, until next time my fellow bloggers.


funniest scene in Blades of Glory---it's Beau's fault

John Heder (Jimmy): “I see you got fat.”
Will Ferrell (Chazz): “I see you still look like a fifteen year old girl but not pretty.”
Jimmy: “You crushed my dreams.”
Chazz: “Dreams? I haven’t had one of those in years.”
Jimmy: “Zip it, Chazz. Zip it or I will punch you in your crap lousy face.”
Chazz: “Hey, this ends tonight.”
Jimmy: “It’s daytime, you douche.”

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Great pap Richie

It was very chilly out this morning… it reminded me of one of those days when we’d get up early and go to Suches with dad for the Indian Summer Festival. That’s next week… Anywho, so I took a walk before I ate breakfast and just went out to talk with God. The moon was sitting in the sky straight across from the sun just behind the trees. We have our first orange fall tree out… I can’t believe it’s already getting cold. I want to be able to wear jackets and hoodies and all my winter clothing (because I have more of it than Summer clothes) but sometimes the in between weather change can be so annoying when it can’t make up its mind. I was so cold this morning in my room I had to put on my flannel pjs because I don’t have any sweats, and some socks, but then I just decided it was pointless and I went to sit in the sun on the porch. It was warmer outside than in.
Monday I got out a bunch of books and picked three to start reading. I began with Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte---I love the way she writes), Much Ado about Nothing (Shakespeare), and Run, Baby Run (Nicky Cruz)… I think Run, Baby Run is the most addicting and I haven’t been able to put it down. Much Ado about Nothing is just like the movie and I can picture all the characters in my head while I read it… and well, I didn’t make it too far in Jane Eyre, but I’ll get there. Anywho, these books should keep me occupied during my boredom stages in the evenings and if not… God help me.
We had steak for dinner the other night. Dad likes his meet red; I like mine over cooked until it’s crisp and a little burnt around the edges. I literally squeezed a strip of meet in my hand until blood came dripping through my fist into a puddle on my plate… sick.
I’ve been staying up ‘till twelve every night reading. When I get tired of one book I switch to another and so the process goes on and on until I realize what time it is. All three books have been highly entertaining, and sometimes they keep me from my studies.
Last night I had a strange dream with Darryl in it… probably because Leah and I mentioned something of him about shining and not whining yesterday (something he always said at camp)… it was a creepy dream and I was always trying to run away. But then I was pulled from sleep when I heard a voice, a girl’s voice call my name. At first I thought it was in my dream… but I couldn’t find my dream anymore. So then I thought it was Stephanie, but then I remembered she isn’t here. It was a beautiful, gentle voice, so then I thought maybe it was an angel… oh well, I guess I’ll never know.
Well, I’ve started (writing) yet another book… sort of… I have some ideas for this one but I’m not sure how far it’ll actually get. Here’s what I have so far:
I thought I had escaped this life, but here I was clear as day driving through town seeing too many familiar faces. Great pap Richie had died and I was called back only two months after my escape. Of course I would never talk like this to any of the town folk… they didn’t know my dreams about living in a city and making big money as a writer... about having my own apartment and living on my own independently without a whole town of relatives and so-called relatives watching my every move. Sometimes they suffocated me like a canary in a cage. And when the cat comes to claw through the bars at me sometimes I think I’d prefer the inside of its stomach than looking through those bars at a world I’ll never experience.
I made myself cry at the funeral. And it wasn’t because of Richie either, or the old crows dabbing at their eyes with pink handkerchiefs. I cried for the soul purpose of crying over the inexplicably, painfully long service. When a person is dead, you should honor the person by giving them the shortest funeral service ever—the sooner it’s over the sooner that person can be put into the earth to deteriorate while everyone else goes home and moves on. But by keeping it as long as possible—and I mean as long as possible---you make things more dramatic than they really are. He’s dead for goodness’ sake and he’s not coming back. I hardly new Richie myself, but I was sure I’d know more about him than even his late wife did at the memorial service that afternoon when all the stories and rumors would go around and people would laugh and cry and eat pie… it was like a thanksgiving holiday, only we were getting together over a death… but I honestly couldn’t tell the difference. I was dreading those long hugs where you’re embraced for eternity in the arms of someone you don’t even know. Someone who says they knew you as a baby and all they talk about is how you’ve grown. It has always puzzled me as to how one should reply to that. “Gee, thanks I guess?” And then of course what I really want to say, “Please stop hugging me I’m about to gag from all that perfume… and don’t get so close to my face with those lipsticky fish-lips.” Either it’s a plump old woman with a big smile, a crying bony old woman with sagging boobs, or the worst: an old man hugging me so tight I feel like all my bones will crunch and I’ll slither through his arms and over his fat bear belly to the ground where I’ll lay a skin sack of bones. Sometimes I wish I only could disappear that fast.


Sunday, September 21, 2008

I kissed a toad

I’m sitting here eating animal crackers and listening to Death Cab for Cutie’s “I’ll follow you into the dark”. I assume these are real animal crackers… this one might be a cow… I’m not really sure. I think the donkey is the only animal you can tell is an actual animal and not some deformed piece of cracker clumped together… donkeys are probably the least appetizing, though… I mean honestly, who would want to eat a donkey?
Well, Friday I drove to Murphy with mom. I’m getting better at driving… well, except when a cop tails me. I pulled onto 19129 and then noticed the car behind me. “Oh crap, is that a cop?” I immediately thought of Stephanie and all the times I’ve yelled cop in the car and she’d scream and go off the road. I went five under the speed limit half the way there until he finally passed me and I could breathe again. I know that cops are supposed to be the good guys, but can I help it if I hate them sometimes for tailing me? I will never understand how those directors managed to make the popo fat lazy bad guys who sit around all day eating doughnuts—now that’s just a dirty twisted insult… they drive around all day looking for someone to pull over just for the fun of it, and they don’t eat doughnuts they eat Blimpies.
I got my hair trimmed and layered more. And I also got a red-ish purple highlight in the back… I like it. Cheri (the woman who did my hair) also straightened it which was awesome because I’ve never been able to straighten my hair before… so it was a new experience for me and it looked pretty cool. I got my ear pierced again so now I have three in one ear. And I found some jeans… that never happens. My mom actually bought two whole outfits (it’s a miracle—that never ever happens). It was so boring sitting in that salon waiting for the dye to kick in… I sat there for thirty minutes looking at stupid magazines reading about Brittany Spears and the people in and out of her life now… lol… and there were these dumb flies going around the room that kept buzzing near my head. That killed me. When my hair was finally done and it looked all cool and everything I was browsing around Wal-Mart and this oldish guy probably in his forties was walking by and he was smiling at me so of course I smiled back… wouldn’t you? Only then I realized from the way he asked, “how are you?” that I probably shouldn’t have smiled… oh boy. That was rather disturbing. What’s with the creepy old farts always winking?
On the way home I was pulling out of this gas station on a hill and so I’m just waiting there with my blinker on, waiting for the traffic to go by so I could pull out… so this dude at the end of the line is coming and he’s got his blinker on so of course I’m thinking—well, he’s turning, I can just go… right? Wrong. Never trust those blinkers. He could have hit me if it weren’t for mom yelling (probably the first time she’s ever said anything than just sitting there holding on with wide eyes when I drive… just kidding)… so I pulled off the road and let that stupid idiot pass me… whew.
And now for the whole purpose of this entry--if the title wasn't driving you nuts already... yes, it's true. I kissed a toad! I found a big toad the other night but it got away… otherwise I probably would have kissed it then. Don’t ask why, I just felt like it… just for the purpose of being able to say: “I have kissed a toad.” So, I found the toad again today and I picked it up and kissed it. It wasn’t so bad… lol… don’t say it, I know I’m insane. But I did brush my teeth—and lips—after I kissed him so I won’t get warts… most likely… haha. I’m rather disappointed… where’s prince charming? Maybe it was a girl toad… How can you tell the difference with toads?
Well, I shall take my leave after that most disgusting news you've probably heard all day so you can ponder why you are friends with me... avua!


Friday, September 19, 2008

i'm not dead... i'm getting better... i'm feeling happy!

well... i just decided to post because i haven't posted in forever and yeah... no reason, really, just that it's late and i'm the only person up in my house and i have nothing else to do... so there you have it. This is my post... and now i'm thinkin i'd like to find some ice cream. I'll post more (hopefully) someday soon for all you homies out there... toodles

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Miss Parton emitted a delighted giggle, and mr. Ingelby who hated giggles, fled.

We’ve been eating lots of fruit… peaches, pluots (that’s like a mix between a plum and… something)… it doesn’t taste very good, though. More like someone’s experiment gone bad—I wonder how it got in the market. Well, besides those, we’ve also got cherries—the good real ones, and honeydew… I wish we had watermelon; the weather is perfect for spitting seeds at each other. That is if the watermelon is extra cold because you can go outside for just a few minutes and get sweaty just standing there. It’s been getting up to the nineties almost every day now, and I’m not kidding—it’s hot! I’m so glad we have air conditioning. This morning it was real cool out and Tim and I sat on the deck just chillaxing and talking about stuff. It feels like a day to go toobing or white-water rafting, it really does. It doesn’t seem like Summer… it’s like it came so soon I missed the starting point.
We took Matt Houston out for dinner at the Big Cheese in town---a very, very postponed birthday gift from last year. I haven’t seen him in months and to tell you the truth it really wasn’t the least bit awkward. But then I wasn’t in the happiest of moods and didn’t notice much. He looks absolutely the same, but he has gotten funnier—that’s for sure… I don’t remember him so funny. We ordered spaghetti with meat balls, which was also part of the gift because it’s Matt’s favorite. The spaghetti sauce had a strange sweet taste to it and I didn’t really like it, but I was starving so it didn’t matter, and at least the giant meat ball invading my plate was delicious. We all had to get to-go boxes because they gave us so much food.
Saturday night we went to the drive-in theater in Blue Ridge to see Confu Panda. It was incredibly packed so we had to park way in the back and sit in the gravel parking lot. Matty came with us, Jesse, the Abbotts, Ayla and Beth too and we sat on the cars and lawn chairs and April and I sat on a blanket on the ground. After a while your butt was so sore it went numb so you couldn’t feel anything anyways, but it got harder and harder to see the screen because this stupid man parked right in front of us and he kept walking around his truck and blocking the screen even more—no kidding, during the WHOLE entire movie---until I was just about at the point of either going over there and personally telling him to hit the road, or throw rocks at him. And just before the end of the movie these stupid girls came driving by with their brights on—in our faces---and they parked next to the stupid guy walking around his car... and then I really wanted to tell them to move. It wasn’t the greatest first experience of a drive-in theater, but it was still fun despite how hot it was, and then how sticky I felt afterwards.
I’ve started reading Song of Solomon… I don’t really know why, just the book I came across and decided to read. Some of the words like most of the “breasts” I crossed out when I was little because I thought it was disgusting. Well, this one verse Solomon wrote I just really, really love goes like this: “For love is as strong as death.” Isn’t that beautiful? I’m sure all of the book is beautiful poetry, for that time, but right now to have a man tell me my breasts are like fawns and my teeth are as white as the sheep coming up from washing—wow I think I would have to laugh at him… or puke, either one seems good.
I love those tiny sand boxes with the rakes you know, the small ones you usually find in therapist’s offices on the desks (and I would know because I've been to so many ;) ...the kind that is supposed to sooth you while you draw pictures in the sand. I absolutely love those things!!! I know I would never get any school done if I kept one on my desk.
I’ve been reading Murder Must Advertise and I’m only on the fourth chapter but I know I’m going to like it because Mr. Ingleby is hilarious, and you know how I love hilarious characters. Here are some of my favorite quotes of his (so far): “Three years in this soul-searing profession have not yet robbed me of all human feeling. But that will come in time.” “Let me take you to your dog-kennel.” “He has been on the point of leaving us for the last five years.” “Damn and blast Nutrax,” said Ingleby, “May all its directors get elephantiasis, locomotor ataxy, and ingrowing toe-nails!”
I love this part in The Catcher in the Rye:
“It was dark as heck in the foyer, naturally, and naturally I couldn’t turn on any lights. I had to be careful not to bump into anything and make a racket. I certainly knew I was home, though. Our foyer has a funny smell that doesn’t smell like anyplace else. I don’t know what the heck it is. It isn’t cauliflower and it isn’t perfume—I don’t know what the heck it is—but you always know you’re home. I started to take off my coat and hang it up in the fower closet, but that closet’s full of hangers that rattle like madmen when you open the door, so I left it on. Then I started walking very, very slowly back toward old Phoebe’s room. I knew this maid wouldn’t hear me because she had only one eardrum. She had this brother that stuck a straw down her ear when she was a kid, she once told me. She was pretty deaf and all. But my parents, especially my mother, she has ears like a dang bloodhound. So I took it very, very easy when I went past their door. I even held me breath, for goodness sake. You can hit my father over the head with a chair and he won’t wake up, but my mother, all you have to do to my mother is cough somewhere in Siberia and she’ll hear you. She’s nervous as heck……..Finally, after about an hour, I got to old Pheobe’s room.” (Really most of that has cuss words, but I decided to make it decent for you.)
You know why that book is called “the Catcher in the Rye”? He only mentions it once or twice and somewhere near the end of the book this kid is singing this poem by Robert Burns that says something like, “if a body meets a body in the rye.” Well, he decides he wants to be in a field of rye and catch kids who go running off the cliff… isn’t that crazy? I think it’s hilarious they named the book after that.

Friday, June 6, 2008

i luv this test


[x] You've run into a glass/screen door.
[ ] You have jumped out of a moving vehicle[x] You have thought of something funny and laughed, then people gave you weird looks.
[x] You have run into a tree/bush.
[ ] You know that it IS possible to lick your elbow.
[x]You have tried to lick your elbow
[x] You never knew that the Alphabet and Twinkle , Twinkle Little Star have the same tune.
[x] You just tried to sing them.
[x] You have tripped on your shoelace and fallen.[ ] You have seen the Matrix and still don't get it.
[ ] You've never seen the Matrix.
[ ] You type only with two fingers.
[x] You have accidentally caught something on fire (usually on purpose though)
[ ] You tried to drink out of a straw, but it went into your nose/eyes.
[x] You have caught yourself drooling.
[ ] You have fallen asleep in class and started to talk/drool, or snore.
[x] Sometimes you just stop thinking.
[x] You are telling a story and forget what you were talking about.
[ ] People often shake their heads and walk away from you.
[ ] You are often told to use your 'inside voice'.
[x] You use your fingers to do simple math.
[x] You have eaten a bug
[x] You are taking this test when you should be doing something more important.
[x] You have put your clothes on backwards or inside out, and didn't realize it.
[x] You've looked all over for something and realized it was in your hand.
[ ] You forward forwards because you are scared that what they say will happen to you if you don't.
[ ] You break a lot of things.
[ ] Your friends know not to use big words around you.
[x] You tilt your head when you're confused.
[x] You have fallen out of your chair before.
[x] When you're lying in bed, you try to find pictures in the texture of the ceiling.
[x] The word 'um' is used many times a day.
Now count them up and put 'I've done 21 stupid things out of 36' in the stupid test...

Saturday, April 26, 2008


today is my birthday. i'm old.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


It was in the beginning of March when the storms came. We needed the rain from the long winter drought, but the terrific show that came along sent shivers through me. It had been a long day and as soon as the sun melted like layers of a peeled orange beyond the horizon, blackness crept through filling the shadows and leaving a silent hush over the forest. A wispy spell of rain traveled throughout the trees like a soft melody tucking them in for the lonesome night. A slick white tail of lightning shrieked through the starless sky followed by a rumble that washed excitement over me as I gazed out the glass window. The wind howled like a lonely dog, and the crack of thunder repeated relentlessly. The naked forest was awakened and waving in the careless wind as if saying goodbye to an old friend. I could see the ditches begin to fill with thick muddy water as it slid down the mossy bank like a snake. There was a constant dripping in the gutters above me as the rain began to fall more vigorously. It pounded the surface so densely and fast I felt it was strong enough to send a little wave. I could almost taste the ocean salt already. But the air was fresh, humid but clean like the oak trees now soaked in tears. I began to wonder at the black wearisome clouds. Why did they cry so?
I could imagine a weeping willow in this storm, its vines lashing against the wind like lightning, and as it always faces down never looking to the sun as if its arms no longer moved but wilted and blew like feathers in the forceful breeze. It wept, and in the dripping rain it resembled wild tresses of hair masking an obscure hollow trunk, coarse and shedding bark like an aged weather-beaten house.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

an old dream

I had a very strange dream last night. I don’t remember how it started… but I do know that I wasn’t in the dream, I was watching the dream as if it were a movie. I remember there was this little cottage in the middle of the woods on a mountain and this very large, fat woman owned the cottage. She was married to a frail, skinny, skinny old man with a chin that popped out like Pop-eye, and also a pipe that looked like Pop-eye’s, and he also squinted with one eye. Maybe he was Pop-eye. He wore jean overalls and a white undershirt with a cap and wobbled around with a crutch. The fat lady with short dark brown hair wore an xxxxxxL yellow polka dot dress with lace and little slippers. Now in this cottage my dream took place. One night the old man, I think his name was Jim, sat in the dining room at the table thinking hard about something. He knew there was something tricky about the house after he went to bed so he decided he would wait it out to see what would happen. But as long as his presence stayed in the dining room nothing happened. Just then a rock was thrown against the window. Jim heaved himself up with creaking bones and wobbled over to the window with the meanest expression an old man can give. There outside the window were about five children, looked like street children dressed like newsies. One little boy waved at Jim motioning him to come down. Jim just about opened the door when he was pulled back inside by something… something had grabbed him. He yelped and was flung back at the table losing his crutch. The little boys, seeing the surprised old man disappear ran up the deck stairs and tried to pull the sliding glass door open to get in the cottage. Jim looked around but didn’t see anything. He saw the little boys trying to get in but he couldn’t move. The boy who had wanted him to come outside smashed the glass window and led the troop in. There was a lot of commotion as they tried to get to Jim who seemed tied to the floor. Just as they passed over the checkered ground a large face appeared from a cabinet and then an arm with a chair for a hand caught one of them and pinned them against the wall. The little boy screamed and all of them got out their sling shots to fight the creature. As the boys were occupied getting free from the now alive kitchen Jim felt himself in a current of wind and floated down the stairs and into the laundry room just before his wife’s room. He didn’t want to wake her because he knew she would be furious so he tried his best to get back upstairs to help the little boys. Try as he might the furniture wouldn’t let him and he was pulled back down time and time again. Jim had finally figured out what was so haunted about this house… it was alive! Minutes later the boys came running down the stairs, they grabbed Jim and pulled him up and managed to get him out the broken sliding glass door just as he grabbed his crutch. Jim heard something he would never forget at that moment running or more like being carried down the stairs as the boys rescued him. It was a roar from his wife and the whole house seemed to quake under the power of it. Jim ran as fast as an old man can with a crutch. He ran down the winding road that led up the mountain to the house and just as day break came he disappeared into the woods on the side. His wife wasn’t far behind him huffing and puffing as she heaved her large body down a step on the road. She looked as if she might have a stroke any minute and her breathing was so loud Jim could hear it all the way down in the woods behind a tree. She stopped and looked around her as the sun just began to pop over the hills.
“JIM!!! COME BACK!!!” She yelled in such a deep voice it was almost worse than her roaring. She was madder than mad… and even though it could be heard all the way down the mountain from her anger, anyone who saw her running down the mountain new there was something terribly wrong because she was never, ever seen from that cottage. Many people believed she would never make it from the door. So as she stood there looking out into the woods Jim held his breath and frantically tried to plan an escape route. The boys who had run all the way down the mountain screaming brought the whole town back up the mountain in a commotion. The mayor decided to hold a town meeting on the roadside where Jim’s wife stood breathing like an elephant and peering out over the side like a stone. Jim would have to wait them out.
“Here here! Everyone take a seat!” The mayor yelled glancing at the large lady in the yellow polka dot dress before him. He couldn’t believe she was out of the house and no matter how polite he tried to be he couldn’t help staring; none of the town could. No one had ever seen her from the house before. She was even larger than the stories. The kids were too scared to laugh and they cuddled beside their mothers who quickly put a protecting hand over their eyes.
“Mayor the house is alive!!! And this lady here has something to do with it I tell ya!” yelled the little boy who had broken the glass door to save Jim.
“I see, and what is your name young man?” the mayor asked as he slammed his piece of wood to keep the towns people from the chattering gossip.
“Travis, sir. I know what I saw and that house was alive!” Travis yelled as he raised his arms and got his gang of boys to shout with him.
“Quiet down everyone! Please!” The mayor yelped over the boys small voices.
As the meeting was going on Jim slowly climbed back up to the road-side, cut across and went up into the woods just as soon as the meeting adjourned. Just then he heard the threatening loudness of his wife’s words.
“Anyone who finds my husband I’ll pay a thousand dollars to!”
Everyone stared at her in silence amazed that she could speak over her heavy breathing. She eyed all of them with such annoyance that everyone scrambled about in the woods and roadside to find Jim.
Travis’s gang split up to find and escape with Jim so Travis began looking as he paced down the road with his hands in his pockets and his brown cap tilted to the side. He stopped a moment, dusted off his brown jacket and just as he was doing so he saw a girl standing there. She looked at him curiously, her blue eyes never leaving his. She wore a white dress with a blue ribbon, black boots and her blond hair was done up so it looked unrealistic.
“I’m Polly.”
“I know who you are. Now what’re you doing in my way?”
“Well, I was wondering since everyone else is scattered around the mountain and I’d rather not look alone with that over-grown woman on the loose, maybe I could search with you.”
“I don’t want any company, especially from a girl.”
“Oh but I won’t bother you. I won’t say anything. I promise. Please?”
Travis put his head down and walked by her just as any eight or nine year old does when they’re moping. Polly turned around and followed with him a smile. At first she skipped, and then she walked alongside him all the while her eyes searching him.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh that’s a nice name. So where are we going Travis?”
“Away from here,” Travis mumbled.
“We are going to look for Jim, aren’t we?” she questioned eagerly.
“That’s what I’m planning.”
“Oh okay… so if we find him, can we split the thousand dollars?”
“No. How can you think of that? Giving poor old Jim up to a fat beast like her, I’ll never have it! Jim and I are going to escape. Besides, he’s got plenty of money, gobs and gobs of it and I could care less of that big woman’s money. Her house is haunted I tell you! I think all these years she didn’t want Jim to leave so she made the house come alive to make sure he never left. Well, I’ve done it now and Jim is free. Free, ya hear? He deserves it! So when I find him we’ll ride away in a carriage and never come back here again.”
“Oh how wonderful! Does Jim have lots of money? Does he have diamonds?”
“Oh yes, diamonds and rubies and all sorts of things. Jim and I have known each other for a long time and we’ve been on many adventures together,” Travis lied just to keep Polly’s nosy attention.
They walked on down the mountain at a slow pace and for a while nothing was said until Polly broke out, “Travis I’m hungry, I am!”
Travis stopped and pointed to a bush as if he didn’t hear her. He walked over to it and began pulling off black berries and plopping them in his mouth one by one. Polly watched how peculiar he looked and walked over to the bush. She pulled a berry off the thorny branch and starred at it.
“Oh Travis these berries are covered in cobwebs! I can’t eat these!” Polly exclaimed.
Travis licked his purple fingers, munched down the last of his bite and began walking again. Just then a black carriage rolled down alongside the children.
“You kids wanna ride?” the driver asked peering out the window at them.
“Sure!” Travis said excitedly as he opened the door and jumped in. Polly pulled herself up and took a seat beside him.
For a while it was silent except for the horse’s trotting on the dirt road until someone in the front seat began speaking in a low voice to the driver. Travis made most of it out.
“We’ll keep him for ransom is what we’ll do. That lady will pay more than a thousand to have him back. Let me tell you, we’re in luck this time. We’ll be rich!”
Travis feared they were speaking of Jim and he bit his lip.
“You kids looking for Jim?” the man asked in the front seat.
“Yes’m.” Polly answered.
“There’s no need. He’s already been found,” he laughed in a low grumble and looked behind the children.
Travis swung his head around and jolted when he saw Jim with a bleeding lip and sitting with tied hands on the very back seat behind him.
“NO!” Travis yelled. He quickly turned around and jumped forward to attack the man.
I am afraid I cannot tell you the ending of the story because it was here that I woke up.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

dream... that's the thing to do...

I don’t have much time to draw anymore… it’s tragic. I think about it… but really the only artwork I do nowadays is the doodling in my math book, my notebook and my arm. I should start that habit again… I miss it.
You know what… I realized I’ve never described myself. Not just in here… but never. I’ve never tried to describe myself in words---my looks… that is. I suppose I should try. *ahem*
I have a clear complexion with a pale olive tint. I’m very pale, not white enough to be albino… but pale all the same. I can’t wear much green because it makes me look sickly. I have long---about longer than my waist----wavy, brunette hair; layered, rich with thickness (not to mention, split ends), curly like a cradle around my face, and highlighted caramel on top. My eyes are ordinary brown eyes, wide… dark. Although when the sun is shining on them they’re a light golden brown. I have few freckles on the bridge of my nose and small pink lips. Scars trace the outline of my lips from all the cold sores I’ve had in my life. They’re only really noticeable when I go swimming and get cold because then they turn up purple. I have an hourglass figure, but I’m not exactly petite. I am short, but describing myself I can be as critical as I want so I’ll say I’m rather chunky—although others might not agree. And I’m afraid that’s all there is to me. I’m pretty ordinary… not stunningly beautiful, not slim… yep.
I finished White Oleander yesterday. It was depressing… but I like the ending she gave everyone. I'm so glad she gave Yvonne a happy ending. The book is very, very well written---Janet is one of the best authors out there---but the book is so real and worldly it shows you just how sinful people are. Yes, so, done with that book… lol… Today is Matt’s birthday. Wow, he’s eighteen. I sent him a Hoops and Yoyo ecard. I can’t believe how old everyone is getting… wow… Steph will be twenty! I’ve always dreamed about being sixteen just so I could say, “sweet sixteen.” But what does that mean? I’m old enough to get married? …haha.

Yesterday, Monday, I laid in bed half the morning just thinking… I hate Monday mornings… no really, Mondays are like those days where I lay in bed and think of what I’ve done with my life and about the future. Thinking about the future scares me. I hate thinking about it… how my family will separate and grow up. I don’t like how fast time goes. Marty told me just the other day that I look different… I don’t know what he meant exactly, but it made me scared and happy at the same time. Like I want to grow up, see the future… but at the same time, I don’t want anything to change.
Last night there was this tremendous storm… it was so loud I woke up during the first thunder. Storms that big scare me… especially because any minute an old tree could come tumbling down on our house… or worse, in the corner through the roof to flatten me! Nah, only joking, the house is more important than me… haha… It’s weird that it’s supposed to snow tonight because yesterday it was so warm and sunny you didn’t even have to wear a jacket. It made me so happy… Lydia and I took a walk and played some basketball. The birds were singing and the sun was amazingly bright… it made me miss spring.
I had a dream the other night that the Tobeys came over. Jonathan had gained a lot of weight and put on a beer belly, and when I went to hug Jesse he swept me up in his arms with a huge grin. I was so surprised, not only by that but why a new born baby popped up in my arms. You've... or I've really gotta question my dreams sometimes.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

featured question

What are five things you do everyday?
There's DEFINITELY more than five things I do everyday. But for the sake of the question--and the readers--I will only give you a specific five. Now we all know about brushing teeth, eating, thinking, sleeping, taking showers and all that... so I'll give you some other answers and not just life essentials.
1. I read my Bible. I'm a Christian, (why else would I read the Bible?), and so I'm devoted to spending ten minutes to an hour reading my Bible every day. It's amazing how old that book is, and yet, it still applies to our lives today... and there's always something you miss---so you read it your whole life and it's like God shows you something different through His word all the time.
2. I feed my pets. I have four cats, two fish and two dogs. It's not just an obligation to feed them; it's something they depend on me to do, like a mom feeding her kids everyday... we all need food.
3. I write. I journal almost every day. What could I possibly have to write about in just one day of school? Well... if you haven't noticed by now, my xanga is full of nonsensical stories and every day things that I put into words because I love to write.
4. I read---another read---that's basically my life... all my subjects in school include reading... even algebra. And plus, there are so many books out there I want to read---I just can't keep my hands off books! It's a love-hate relationship.
And 5. I listen to music... I can't study unless I have some kind of music. From Michael Buble to Switchfoot whatever it is... I'll be listening to it. Yep so those are my answers... yeah they're not so out of the ordinary---I'm sure you could get a lot more interesting, and unique answers from someone else... like skateboarding or shoe shining or killing bugs---something! lol... Breathing. Wait...what? breath?

Yep... so, that's my post. I expect everyone who comments this post to answer the question. Good day!

Sunday, February 10, 2008

stupid modem

I'm back! So... this is my new site. I'm still working out the quirks and everything but it's getting along. I haven't had a whole lot of time to update and plus our internet was down for a couple weeks so yeah... But here I am again! I don't think there's a soul in the world that can keep me from writing---even when no one is there to read it.
I've decided to try my luck on another love story. I told myself I should wait until I actually experience some kind of love for myself before I write my own... but there's just no staying away from it... I have to have some kind of romance when I write... if it's not the beauty in the sky, or mountains or something... it's the beauty in a love story. I've got all these ideas running around in my head and I think I might just have a good book coming along. Here's some scenes I wrote out (I know I'm a cheater---I skip ahead so I can write my favorite parts I want to write before putting the story together) I'll warn you these few paragraphs have nothing to do with each other so don't blame me when a question mark pops up. Alright so you can't really tell this is gonna be a love story from these few paragraphs---but it will be... this book is gonna be a lot of fun to write because the main character resembles me quite a lot. And all the other characters are people I know---well except the guy she falls in love with---nope haven't met him yet.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he whispered in my ear as I strummed. His lips stayed close to my ear and he brushed my curls back as if he were going to kiss me. I kept playing but I was aware of my cheeks gleaming a bright pink as he watched my hands, glared at my neck, and then he found my lips. He was so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin. I stopped playing and slowly turned to face him. I could see every detail on his face as it was so close to mine… just inches away. He didn’t say anything, didn’t breath, didn’t move. The moments seemed to pass like years just sitting there gazing into his dark blue eyes. They looked like a galaxy of stars and when they stared straight back into mine I felt like the sun, just a small reflection in his miles and miles of ocean blue. A door slammed in the apartment across from mine and we both jumped like children having their parents walk in on them when doing something they shouldn’t. I looked down at the guitar and smiled, Jason laughed and relaxed against the couch.

I didn’t know how to tell her to lay off. She slid her hand through mine and tried to get me to skip with her. When I didn’t she rested her head on my shoulder and hugged my arm with both hands. She was like a child… desperate for love and attention, always chattering trying to get my interest and approval as if I were a parent to her. I looked at her silently taking in every detail. She had some freckles on her tan face, she wore small glasses, had dry lips, thick eyebrows and messy dark hair. Her nails were as long as stick-ons, and they had dirt under them. I didn’t like the way she talked as spit gathered at the edge of her lips like she needed to swallow. It was like a game to her when she talked to me. She wouldn’t look at me while she talked, but if I weren’t starring at her she’d immediately notice and turn and glance to make sure my eyes stayed on her. I attentively listened, nodding my head, wondering if I’d ever get a chance to speak and if she’d listen.

The tips of his fingers were lined and mutilated with calluses from playing guitar. The skin was ripped and torn with crooked scars. He strummed a slow G then lowered the capo to fret five so I could sing. He put the red Star pick in his mouth and began finger picking a melody I knew so well. I was mesmerized by his soft playing. Those small six strings where like a voice to him… a vent for his emotions to escape through.

There was a constant knocking on the door like a hammer hitting my head. I couldn’t remember if the door was locked or unlocked, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see anyone and I preferred no one see me. It was silent and then I heard the doorknob jingling. I hid under the covers and smashed my face in my pillow. It was silent.
My eyes instantly popped open. I knew that voice. The springs creaked and I felt a weight on the bed beside me.
“Are you decent?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want him to see me like this. As much as I wanted him to leave I knew deep down I wanted him to stay, to hold me and tell me everything would be alright. The covers slowly pulled back from over my head. My face was still in my pillow, my hair probably looked like a rats nest, and I remembered I was a in a tank top with a low back line. I could feel his eyes on me, my almost bare back. I wished I could run to the bathroom for safety.
I slowly turned to look at him. His face was full of sympathy as he gazed at my dry face, my red eyes and the stains of tears trailing down my cheeks. His eyes searched mine and I didn’t like the sadness that came across his. I pushed my hair back and cuddled my knees against my breast, my gray sweat pants feeling hot on my skin. I hadn’t realized how weak I was and my arms trembled. Jason watched me, eyeing every movement without saying a word. Before I knew what he was doing he slid his arm beneath me and his hand on my back and lifted me from the bed. I felt like a feather, frail and weightless as he carried me to the couch in the living room. He didn’t speak, no words were needed. He understood. He pulled open the blinds and sunlight streamed in and filled the room. I watched the dust rise and Jason placed a blanket around me.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The Masterpiece

She scratches the surface of a white leaf with the tip of her pencil. Her strokes are even, but they fall in a manner of rage and leave scars tearing through the clearest white. Her saddened eyes examine the masterpiece. It’s a black scribbled mess in a rainbow frame. Quivering fingers scrawl a signature in the corner. Her emotion has flooded through her hands… and now her heart is drawn on paper. Any spectator would never understand the marvelous piece, yet admire it… it is a lost secret, only understood by the master herself. Through the eyes of another, the blackened paper with the harsh lashes of a lead pencil is only untamed blotches. But through the heart of the author, it is her emotions in a portrait… it’s an image of her ambiance. Through the black now squiggly lines…tears fall; they have stained the surface, leaving smears within its beauty. The smudged figures and shapes have an appearance of her character… they are now a part of her.

Her fingers gracefully crossed the black and white keys with a familiar touch. As each finger found its place she closed her eyes and pressed with a soft interest. It began as a melody, but as she climbed the piano it grew to a chorus of rage. The impact overwhelmed her with a wave of miscellaneous emotion. She embraced it, and became one with the surge of anger as her whole body swayed in the music. She did not have to try, nor think, her fingers played by memory the dark passion which forced itself through her arms. The beautiful but violent composition gave a saddening effect that only she understood. It was an uncontrollable sensation as she calmly, but forcefully pushed each note. Her feelings of despair were washed from her heart through the shrill intensity of the screaming piano. And then it ended. An echo swept through the abrupt silence to leave a dreary stillness. The masterpiece was finished.