What Time Is It?! Summertime! (The Only Season Saipan Has)

        Saipan's weather is... well, there are really only two seasons on this island: dry and wet. Basically, less than a month out of the year, Saipan's weather is rainy, the rest of the year is hot, dry, and humid. Three words I do NOT want to hear. My house is concrete, so the already scarce wind that flows past my house doesn't cool it... at ALL. Lately the heat has been so unbearable that my mom has resorted to keeping the sprinklers on for extended periods of time, in hopes that it'll make things a LITTLE bit cooler. I'm kind of the spoiled one; I stay in my air-conditioned room all the time while my mom and uncle suffer outside. It's not that I'm keeping them out on purpose, no. I actually welcome them into my room occasionally. They just know the kind of person I am. I'm usually the person who needs her alone time. But ANYWAY, although the heat and humidity is enough to send me into a state of disillusion, it's the only kind of weather I truly know of. Summer.

        Yay for the summers of Saipan... the endless summers of Saipan. Living on this island for a while just makes you sick of its weather. It's hot ALL the time. It's humid ALL the time. It's dry ALL the time (besides the little bit of heavenly rain we get once in a while). But when I start thinking of my college future, which will be in Ohio, I start to remember the beaches of this island. Even though it's hot, the beaches will always cool you down. A BBQ near the water in the shade always makes everyone happy. A little company here and there, a LOT of food everywhere. It's nice just to sit back and enjoy the warmth. The best time for me on this island is when it's a windy day. Of course, the weather is still hot and sunny, it's just that there's an addition. A lovely addition.

        Imagine just laying in a hammock tied between two trees near the sea. Sea birds warbling away, the sound of the ocean against the shore, the fresh, cool breeze that sifts through the opening linens of the hammock onto your skin. The peaceful serenity of your eyes closing as you fall into a light sleep. Yes, that's what you call perfect.

        Saipan's weather isn't perfect unless you make it perfect. And luckily for me, I've already figured that part out.

Prance

PRANCE. WELL, WHAT CAN I SAY ABOUT PRANCE?!

To me, it was pretty stressful. I had to deal with the shipment of the wrong dress, worrying about the seamstress not making my dress on time, decorations, and the music.

UGH, if anything, I didn't really enjoy this year's Prance. I was in charge of the music, and I think that was sort of a disaster in my eyes. There were a couple songs that came on that I found to be a mistake to put on the list in the first place; one in particular: Dance (A*$). I guess, when you're  listening to it with friends, it's okay, but when it's being blasted in a tiny room with teenagers being watched by teachers, it gets pretty unacceptable. But COME ON, there isn't any popular music nowadays that doesn't have at least one bad word. It sucks! I personally wanted to put in some Beatles songs, but I know no one would dance to any of them. People would criticize me for having a bad taste in music, when in actuality, they have the bad taste. It really narks me off sometimes.

My makeup was a disaster too. I showed the makeup woman a picture of what I wanted my makeup to look like and she made it FREAKISHLY dark! I started to cry, and I couldn't just wipe it off because it would be an insult to her work. I hated it. I really did.

The after party didn't go as planned. We couldn't get into the room. Heck, we couldn't even get into the building!

The only great thing that came out of this year's Prance was my dress. It was the best one yet, and I know I'll be keeping it for a long, long time.

Dear Mama

        Dear Mom, for the most part, I would like to thank you for putting up with all my crap, weird obsessions, phases, and attitude. I know I'm a huge handful to deal with, and caring for me almost as a single parent is something that is worth noting. I know you love me to bits, and I love you too. Although at times it may seem that I hate the world, I  really don't. I just have the worst stubbornness around. I'm probably the devil's child in you and Dad's eyes sometimes. I know I lash out in anger when I don't get what I want or when things don't go my way. I'm still working on that.

        I 'm growing up pretty fast in your eyes, I know that. I'm almost 18, I've already gotten my driver's license, and I'm on my way to start a new life in college. It's not easy for me to be separated from you, and if I think that, I can't imagine how heartbreaking it is for you. We'll make the best of our time together, and if anything happens, I'll always be there for you, just like you are there for Amma. Actually, I would like to have a similar relationship as yours and Amma's. I want to help you when you need me, and I don't want to have to hide anything.

        For the whole job issue. I don't mind where you decide to go, I just don't want to be too far away from you. I've spent long amounts of time away from you, and it's not very fun.

        This is pretty much my little letter to you. There's nothing I haven't already told you, or that you don't already know.

I LOVE YOU, MAMA! ♥

One Song

If I could only liste to one song, it would have to be something that isn't my favorite. If I listen to my favorite song over and over again, I know I'd get sick of it. I know I'm probably wrong by making this decision, but the first song that came to my mind was "Yes, Yes, We Are Magicians" by the Crookes. I don't know. I mean, it's not my most favored song ever, but it's still really good, and it's not too jumpy, not too somnolent. Give it a listen.

Here are the lyrics:

Yes, my love, oh we, are magicians
you and I
And soon, you'll see, that the cloud shapes in our eyes are blind,
but fly, forever just the same

Oh you -- you've been sleeping in the rough
A traveling man took you by the hand
And still I wonder
Why dear -- you've a pocket full of snuff
A meek and mild rag-time child who sometimes wonders

Why the crowds all stare,
Mrs Porter's crying "Keep that kid away from my bear"
I've got 10 bob on that on and I'll not be having no mad-arsed kid do me wrong
And suddenly the curtain falls

Oh it -- it may well hap' to be
That there's magic wed in ragged threads
That you sleep under

To find -- there's comfort in the melody
Too mild and meek for rag-time chic
And still I wonder

Why the crowds all stare,
Mrs Porter's crying "Keep that kid away from my bear"
I've got 10 bob on that on and I'll not be having no mad-arsed kid do me wrong
And suddenly the curtain falls

Mary was a poor girl
Turned alabaster call girl With bruised and pale pins
Mary's still a poor girl
So through these gutters crawl, girl
Your secret's sleeping in

And the crowds'll stop and stare
Mrs Porter's crying "Keep that kid away from my bear"
I've got 10 bob on that on and I'll not be having no mad-arsed kid do me wrong
And suddenly the curtain falls

It's a lovely song to listen to. I honestly really like it, and if you've noticed, my blog title is named after the song: "We Are Magicians"

I know some people may be disappointed that my one song isn't the Beatles, but hey, there are just so many good Beatles songs that my brain might explode trying to pick one. My love for the Beatles is everlasting, and just because I don't choose their song for my one song, doesn't mean I love them any less.

We Are Magicians is a good song, and I have no regrets!

My Ideal Spouse

Take a good look at the following men. These are what I picture my ideal spouse's face would look like:

    
 

These are only a few (and I mean few) of the many face of my ideal spouse. My spouse also has to have a good personality.

My ideal spouse's personality:

• Funny
• Caring
• Creative
• Loving
• Bubbly
• Serious when the time calls for it
• Playful (yes, playful, my husband must keep up with my playful personality, and what better way of keeping up than by actually being playful himself.
• Athletic
• Smart
• He must love animals, animals are a big part of my life
• He has to have a love for music (preferably the kinds that I listen to)
• Good with kids
• Nice laugh
• Deep, seductive voice
• Overall, a very appealing man

Okay, this might seem a little bit selfish of me (but if I truly love the guy, I wouldn't care), but you asked me what my ideal man was. So I'll let you know what I want him to look like.

My ideal spouse's looks:

• Nice body; abs
• Not too muscular, not too skinny
• Dark hair
• Light eyes
• Pretty eyes
• Color doesn't really matter to me, but preferably ranging from mildly dark, to light complexion (just because I'm light complected, and we'd look good together)
• Nice eyebrows (I tend to notice eyebrows a lot in guys, they're, in many cases, the reason I'm strongly attracted to them)
• Tall
• Nice smile
• Stylish
• Overall a perfect man

I know that the man I've explained either is famous somewhere, and will never know of my  existence, or doesn't exist. That won't stop me from dreaming, though. I'll keep searching for my perfect man (if I haven't already found one that I'm content with)!

My Graduation

Well, graduation is coming up in about sixteen days, and I'm sort of ambivalent towards it. I really don't know how to feel. I mean, I'm not indifferent about the whole leaving high school thing, I'm just stuck. I guess why I'm not feeling anxious or happy or sad is because it hasn't hit me yet. I think the idea of me graduating will hit when I'm actually getting ready for it. Perhaps when I'm sitting down in my gown, or perhaps when I receive my diploma. Maybe it won't even hit me at all, and I'll just go to college living out my days like there's no difference. Well of course things'll be different. I'll be in a new environment with new people, and new experiences.

Graduation will most likely leave a mark on me. I know It'll be emotional because for sure there'll be a bunch of girls crying. I'm not being stereotypical or anything, I know this because they told me that they would cry. I don't blame them. We've known each other so long that saying goodbye isn't an easy thing to do. We will have to eventually.

Let's just say that I'm looking forward to graduating, but everything in between and after that is a little bit fuzzy.

What Would You Do If You Had A Million Dollars?

Well, if I had a million dollars, I'd first take care of my family's financial needs, then with the money I have left, I'd spend that on creating a Playgirl Mansion. Of course, less than a million isn't enough to support building a mansion and purchasing everything that's supposed to be inside it. I'd first look for sponsors, and get a couple loans. When my mansion is complete, and when I begin to make profit from the models, I would be able to pay off my loans, and then make a living off my mansion. I mean, a house full of hot male models, come on! I'd invite so many people, and we'd have a blast. The extra money will go to charity. It's nice to help out.

My Favorite Irish

     Usually, when people who aren't that familiar with Ireland think of Irish people, they tend to picture the locals to leprechauns, or alcoholics who live in pubs and eat potatoes. I really beg to differ. I run a model blog and a lot of the Irish I see are anything but leprechauns. One of these flawless Irish people out there is Robert Sheehan. Robert Sheehan isn't a model, but he ought to be one. His eyes are as green as a green crystal, and his magnificent god-like curls would make even the manliest man squeal in admiration.

     I first fell in love with Robert through a British television show called "Misfits." Misfits is a bloody, sexed-up, action-packed, television drama that consults all the senses. It's dramatic, suspenseful, and due to Robert, a really funny show. Although Robert has left the set of Misfits to further persue and expand his acting career, his fans still adore him as Nathan Young, the man who can never die. Of course, his powers were swapped, and a new power was chosen: magic. When I first heard of his new power, I thought "what?!" How can you go from immortal to being a magician pulling rabbits out of your ass? I really hope he returns to the show. It's not and never will be the same without him.

YOLO: That's Da Motto

I'm the girl. You all don't get it do you. Type of money everybody is acting like they know you. Go uptown New York City, girl. Some Spanish boys acting like I'm Aventura.

Tell Uncle Luke, that I'm out in Miami too. Clubbing hard wooing women, ain't much to do. Blah blah blah blah. I godda condo up in Biscayne. Still getting brains from a girl, ain't nothing changed.

How you feel, how you feel, how you feel. 25 sitting on 25 mil. I'm in the building and i'm feeling myself. Rest in peace Mac Drey I'ma do it for the bay. Okay.

Getting paid well, holler whenever that stop. My team good we don't even need a mascot. Tell Tune likewise catch em like a relay, YMCMB you people want YMCA.

Me Frannie and Marley Mar at the cribow. Shout goes out to Nico Jay Chubbs at the Gibbo. We got Sana Margarita by the liter. She know even if I'm playing wither her, I don't even need her... aaaah.

My motto is to live life in the now.

My Perfect Holiday

My perfect holiday is nothing special. I just want something that doesn't base its origins and beliefs on religious aspects. I know many of he major holidays in the United States revolve around the Christian religion. I really don't have a problem with anything religious, I just want something non-religious, seeing that I'm an atheist.

I guess my perfect holiday would be quite fun. Nothing too big like Christmas. Maybe we should call it National Break Week, or something. I want a holiday that won't favor any culture, nor discriminate others. Nothing controversial. Maybe instead of "National" it could be "Worldwide." Worldwide Break Week. I like the sound of that.

What Is Beauty?

Beauty is a wonderful, yet evil thing.
How I initially see beauty:

B is for benevolence
E is for eloquence
A is for attentive
U is for understanding
T is for trustworthy
Y is for

How the rest of today's society sees beauty:

B is for breasts
E is for easy
A is for attention-seeking
U is for underwear-wearing
T is for twat
Y is for "yes"

It's hard to distinguish between what is beautiful and what is not beautiful in this world nowadays. There are so many opinions from different people.

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty is determined depending on who the person is. Some people may find skinny to be beautiful, others may believe that curvy and voluptuous is beautiful. Beauty also depends on culture. Racism, whether very mild or very extreme, is a factor for everyone. It's in human nature to judge other people, especially if they think, act, and look differently than you do.

Free Topic: Benedict Cumberbatch

I FUDGING LOVE HIM

Here's a sample of my fanfiction:

A Study in Scarlet
It was late. Everything that happened that evening was still fresh in my head. I still hadn’t had the chance to get to know Sherlock very well. We’d only just met a few days before, but when I found out that he was in possible danger, I ran to do all that I could. I grabbed the GPS to track Sherlock. Something in the pit of my stomach fell to my feet and it made it hard for me to fathom the situation.
            Was he okay? Will I come too late? What if he’s not really there? So many questions filled my mind as I ran out in the street to catch a taxi. I sat in the cab; hands shaking, breath deep and quivering. How could he get himself into this? I thought he was much cleverer than that. Half way to my destination, a school building, I realized that I hadn’t a clue what I was going to do when I got there. I decided to keep my pistol in a secure place, just to be safe.
            As I ran through the dark building filled with school desks, I had made a surprising discovery. Parallel to the building I was in, was a light coming from inside another classroom. All I saw was Sherlock holding a small, empty bottle in his left hand, and in his right, was a pill. He was slowly maneuvering it into his mouth. I panicked. I grabbed my pistol and shot.
            I tried to act like nothing was wrong after that. An ambulance came and picked Sherlock and the dead cabbie. Sherlock was in a shock blanket. It was quite comical. We went back to our flat.
            I think, from the entire hullabaloo that went on earlier in the evening, neither of us could sleep. Sherlock decided to spend his extra time working on an unfinished experiment. I chose to read a book.
            The first fifteen minutes was quiet, but as my brain began to reject the ideas of the book I was reading, my attention was fixed elsewhere.
             I decided to glance up at Sherlock. He was so focused on his experiment. His eyes were glued to the lenses of his microscope. I found myself beginning to stare at his perfect profile, so I snapped out of it instantly. What if he caught me?
             I looked back at my book, but before I knew it, I began to get distracted once again. I stared at the skull atop the fireplace; the skull that apparently was Sherlock’s “friend.” My eyes wandered up the wall to the ceiling above the kitchen. I looked straight down and found myself staring again. Before I saw it coming, Sherlock had caught me.
             Our eyes locked. It was like an uncontrollable force that held me motionless until I came to my senses. I quickly retracted and buried my nose in my seemingly interesting book. I could not focus. The way Sherlock worked with his chemicals. It was like watching the sun set. When you look at him, it’s like nothing else matters.
            Mrs. Hudson barged in before I could refocus on what I had been reading. “Oh you two,” she said, “you’ve come home quite late.”
             She was so oblivious, it seemed. Maybe it was because she was already so used to Sherlock’s shenanigans. I found it odd that she would say that. Sherlock is usually out hours, if not days, at a time.
             Mrs. Hudson was hesitant to walk over to the refrigerator, most likely in fear that one of Sherlock’s “experiments” might pop out and attack her. I chuckled.
             Sherlock’s eyes were still fixed on his microscope.
             “It was quite a night, Mrs. Hudson,” said Sherlock, “It’s too bad, I’ve gotten blood beneath my shoe. Would you mind cleaning it up for me? After it dries, it begins to set in.”
              “I’m your landlord, sweetie, not your housekeeper.”
              “Thank you.” Said Sherlock in a slightly high, melodious voice.

The formatting for this piece was messed up by Blogger. I started writing this on a document, so I copied and pasted it here. Didn't turn out too well, but who cares. It's still legible.

There's more to come! This is only a short sample. This is actually my first attempt at fan fiction. I'm actually going to get deeper into the sensual stuff later, if you know what I mean. 

Adverts

Info or manipulation

It really all depends. Some advertisements are meant to scam people for their money. Well, most are like that. Most advertisements want to incline people and have them pay loads of money for something that they really don't need. Have you ever seen a commercial where everyone seems happy with a certain product? Or when they celebrate over the smallest things? It's just like that.
People don't need fancy cars, or high-tech equipment. People just want it. And they want it because of what they're influenced by.

F.U.N.

Fun? What is fun? Fun is when you... fun is. Let me just sing it for you:
F is for friends who do stuff together.
U is for you and me.
N is for anywhere, and anytime at all, down here in the deep blue sea.

Now, if you're cynical and evil:
F is for fire that burns down the whole town
U is for uranium bombs
N is for no survivors, when you-!

Fun is when you're not obligated to do what you're doing. Fun is when you don't remember anything important. Fun is when all the problems seemed to have slipped your mind. Fun is that feeling you get when you realize it's after school on a Friday. Fun is when joy and excitement take over. Fun is the lack of judgment when doing things. Fun is when your parents leave you at home for the evening and blasting music while dancing in your underwear is the only option. Fun is hanging out with people you actually like. Fun is when a substitute teacher takes over. Fun is when old people don't awkwardly talk to you. Fun is that moment when you realize that you have money in your pocket. Fun is when you realize that you don't have homework. Fun is the moment you come to conclusion that your life is your life, and it's important to live life the way you want to live it, not how others would want to live it.

How Do We Make Decisions?

What are the most influential factors in my decision-making precess?

Influencing factors when making decisions come from society. Strong-minded people believe that their influencing factors come from themselves. It's really not that simple, however. If you've ever heard of the id, ego, and superego, you'd definitely know what I'm talking about. Our minds are innocent at birth, but then begin to develop though feelings and society.
Decisions itself is a very broad subject. Some decisions consist of whether or not to choose Special K or Froot Loops for breakfast. Other decisions consist of life-determining choices, like whether or not to keep a child to give him up for adoption. There's a lot that goes into these sorts of things.

I Still Haven't Turned In My Platoon Review

FUCK

A Few Ounces Of Bottled Up Emotions

     Today, the SIS girls MISO volleyball team won the championship game. I'm on the team. We played two games against GCA, who were the reigning champions during the preliminary games. Going into the gym this morning, I thought to myself, "I know I'm not going to play. It's not going to happen." I already know how Ms. Mili's mind works when she's a coach during a game. It's win or nothing. She doesn't care if you've been sitting out the whole game. You might as well be invisible if you're not on the court. And that's just how I felt throughout the whole season. I hate being like this because I feel that no one even wants my opinion on things. But when have I cared about people's opinions? I'm going to tilt over this bottle and let my emotions flow out.

     I joined the MISO volleyball team this year because it was my last year to ever do so. I missed being in a team. I missed all the fun I used to have, champions or not champions. It was the fun of the game that mattered to me. This year held a big surprise, however. Not only was my average playing time about five minutes out of an hour, my joy for the game seemed to have vanished. I used to walk onto the court with a smile. Now I just stick around on the side watching other people play. I used to walk out of the match, sweaty, happy. Now I leave the game with a blank face, and not a drop of sweat dripping off my jersey. This year disintegrated my love for volleyball. 

     You know, I may not be the best player, but I'm a good player. I never doubted for a second that I could go up for a block or spike hard. Never. I always knew that I had it in me. Now I don't even know if I can do those things anymore because I never had the chance to do it this year. My dad always told me to play hard and practice hard so I can get a spot in the game. I did practice hard. I even asked Ms. Mili if I could play more for just one game, but again, I might as well have been invisible. My efforts went unnoticed.

     Ms. Mili has this habbit of putting people in in the middle of games (close to the end of the set), expecting them to play so effortlessly. But little does she know that when she calls for a sub and stops the game for a particular girl to run out and replace another girl, all the attention is on that person, and for me, I felt that I was out of place and that every inch of my mistakes were noticed more than my good plays.

     I often regret signing up for this year's team. If I had known what this season would have been doing for me, I would have just walked out of the meeting. I'm not trying to sound condescending, but there were freshmen, sophomores, and juniors who were having more playing time than I had. It's degrading! I've played more years of volleyball, and there are younger girls who are playing more than I was.

     During the championship game, on the second set, Ms. Mili called for a timeout and the girls on the court came into a huddle. I heard Amber say "Best senior year ever," and right at that moment, I felt like breaking down in tears. It's sad because it is my senior year, but it's far from being the best. 

     My parents always make it to my games, and I feel sorry for them because they come solely to see me play, and I don't get to. My discontent for Ms. Mili's poor coaching skills was apparent throughout the second half of the preliminary games. I didn't stick my hand in after a huddle, I stood away from her, my facial expressions were blank or pissed off, I didn't look at Ms. Mili when she was talking. I was fed up. I wanted to quit the team. Shane and I both talked to each other about how unfair Ms. Mili was to us (considering that we're seniors), but she got her break. She got to play full games. I however, never got that break. I stayed out.

     Today, regardless of my extreme opposition for Ms. Mili's poor coaching tactics, I decided to cheer on the team and send good vibes, because being a sore ass throughout the game would definitely haven been useless for everyone. I cheered from the side. I knew I wasn't going to be put in. I called "in" and "out" for balls and Ms. Mili acknowledged that from me. The only thing she had ever acknowledged from me throughout the season. Now that's the only thing I attributed to the team; calling "in" or "out" from the sidelines. When we won the trophy, I didn't touch it, not even once. I stayed away, and only took couple of group photos. I left without saying goodbye. I left because I thought that the team should have had some time with the trophy they won. I didn't do anything to win that trophy because I didn't play at all. I felt that I would have been cheating myself if I would have touched it.

     I drove home alone, in tears. Even though SIS won the trophy, I felt that I had nothing to do with it. There was no joy, no victory dance, nothing, because that trophy showed the talent of other people, not me. I was on the "team," but I did not win that trophy.

Job

Emploi, lavoro, trabajo, trabalho, werk, beschäftigung, 仕事, job. 

The source of income for most Americans. The source of stress for most Americans. The source of lifestyle for most Americans.

I need a job. I was initially planning on asking my parents to get me something online, but I thought that I asked too much from them and I though that I'd make my own money. Pull my weight around for once. What I want to buy costs $632 and ¢¢95. It's Photoshop. I know it's sort of an absurd thing to buy, but I run a blog, and the use of Photoshop (especially for GIF-making) is quite important. The price is very high, so I found it too much to ask of my parents. I will do all I can to make this money and pay my parents off. The thing is, will they even decide on actually ordering the software for me. That's my biggest concern right now. That and finding a job that will pay well.

Hopefully my luck will burst out of my ass, and I'll be able to get the money and have my parents order my Photoshop. Hopefully!

Free Topic: Fandom

     The word "fandom" is defined as "the fans of a sport or famous person." I initially discovered this word from one site, and only one: Tumblr. Before Tumblr, I thought I was the only girl overly-obsessed with a celebrity. After Tumblr, I became well aware that I wasn't the only person who could  be such a maniac over someone I've never met and probably never will meet. I've also learned to "ship" imaginary couples (mostly from television shows and movies). For example: From Doctor Who, the two characters I would ship would be the Doctor and the Master. Both equally sexy men in their own ways. Can't choose one? Make them a couple. It always makes a fangirl's day to see two of her favorite sexy characters in love with each other. Fandom fangirls also give names to their couples like "TenSimm" (David Tennant and John Simm). It's like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt: "Brangelina" Photo example of a "ship" (AKA inappropriate/ extreme fan art):

From above, the two last ones are called "crossover GIFs." Crossover GIFs are two separate GIFs from different movies containing each of the people in the couple. They literally crossover the two GIFs using Photoshop. Its amazing what fans can do.


I found a little something on my dash on Tumblr. Proper credit goes to hesychasm

“Fandom is focus. Fandom is obsession. Fandom is insatiable consumption. Fandom is sitting for hours in front of a TV screen a movie screen a computer screen with a comic book a novel on your lap. Fandom is eyestrain and carpal tunnel syndrome and not enough exercise and staying up way, way past your bedtime. 


Fandom is people you don’t tell your mother you’re meeting. Fandom is people in the closet, people out and proud, people in costumes, people in T-shirts with slogans only fifty others would understand. Fandom is a loud dinner conversation scaring the waiter and every table nearby. 


Fandom is you in Germany and me in the US and him in Australia and her in Japan. Fandom is a sofabed in New York, a roadtrip to Oxnard, a friend behind a face in London. Fandom talks past timezones and accents and backgrounds. Fandom is conversation. Communication. Contact. 


Fandom is drama. Fandom is melodrama. Fandom is high school. Fandom is Snacky’s law and Godwin’s law and Murphy’s law. Fandom is smarter than you. Fandom is stupider than you. Fandom is five arguments over and over and over again. Fandom is the first time you’ve ever had them. 


Fandom is female. Fandom is male. Fandom lets female play at being male. Fandom bends gender, straight, gay, prude, promiscuous. Fandom is fantasy. Fandom doesn’t care about norms or taboos or boundaries. Fandom cares too much about norms and taboos and boundaries. Fandom is not real life. Fandom is closer than real life. Fandom knows what you’re really like in the bedroom. Fandom is how you would never, could never be in the bedroom. 


Fandom is shipping, never shipping, het, slash, gen, none of the above, more than the above. Fandom is love for characters you didn’t create. Fandom is recreating the characters you didn’t create. Fandom is appropriation, subversion, dissention. Fandom is adoration, extrapolation, imitation. Fandom is dissection, criticism, interpretation. Fandom is changing, experimenting, attempting. 


Fandom is creating. Fandom is drawing, painting, vidding: nine seasons in four minutes of love. Fandom is words, language, authoring. Fandom is essays, stories, betas, parodies, filks, zines, usenet posts, blog posts, message board posts, emails, chats, petitions, wank, concrit, feedback, recs. Fandom is writing for the first time since you were twelve. Fandom is finally calling yourself a writer. 


Fandom is signal and response. Fandom is a stranger moving you to tears, anger, laughter. Fandom is you moving a stranger to speak. 


Fandom is distraction. Fandom is endangering your job, your grades, your relationships, your bank account. Fandom gets no work done. Fandom is too much work. Fandom was/is just a phase. Fandom could never be just a phase. Fandom is where you found a friend, a sister, a kindred spirit. Fandom is where you found a talent, a love, a reason. 


Fandom is where you found yourself.”

I think it's a pretty accurate description, don't you think?

           

I don't own the photos on this post. They come from the following sites: k-onwho, aikainkauna, thisisgallifrey

My Favorite High School Memory

     I really don't have a favorite high school memory. If I had to choose one, however, I would have to say it was in the 10th grade. The 10th grade, for me, was filled with fun, adventure, new experiences, new relationships, heartbreak, regret, rivalry, and betrayal. I would leave the bad things out in this one. That's in the past for me, and I would like to keep it that way.
     In the beginning of 10th grade, I had my mind on a set course. I vowed to get good grades, and be the best person I could be, and that's exactly what I did. I did my homework on time, got As in almost everything, and was a kind person to everyone. That was the year. I don't know, I think that this new outlook scored me my first boyfriend. It was weird, and I wasn't used to it, but things were going pretty good.
     After a while things started to become complicated. This is where the regret, heartbreak, rivalry, and betrayal come in. There's nothing more I can say about that. The good times were really good, and the bad times were really bad, but I think that is what makes that year a really good year.

MY DREAM

     Okay so, my dream didn't happen during the evening. I actually woke up at 12 in the afternoon, and went back to sleep at around 2 or 3. Anyway, right before I went to sleep, I watched some Doctor Who. A stomach ache and sleepy-ness were the causes of my mid-afternoon nap.
     Anyway, I woke up at 5 feeling that I had an awesome dream, but I couldn't remember any of it. I knew it related to Doctor Who. I finished the episode that I was watching right before I went to sleep, and then I decided to go on Tumblr. I saw this one photo:

And right at that moment, I remembered my dream. When I read "You're still you," I know it wasn't the same episode, but it reminded me of when Rose got to keep the Doctor's replica at Bad Wolf Bay; my dream was about the doctor's replica. In my dream--everything's a bit fuzzy still--the 10th Doctor came back and saved the 11th Doctor which was really cool because just before I took my nap, I was at the point of the Doctor Who episode where the 11th Doctor needed some saving. And yeah, it doesn't sound special, but listening to someone tell a dream and actually dreaming the dream are totally different. If I would have heard this dream being told by someone else, I wouldn't be fangirling as much as I am now.

Anywho, ALLONS-Y! Back to the real world!

M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E

Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Hey there. Hi there. Ho there. You're as welcome as can be.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)
Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)

Forever let us hold our banner high.
High. High. High.

Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Here we go a-marching and a-shouting merrily.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.


__________The song actually starts from here in Full Metal Jacket__________


We play fair and we work hard and we're in harmony.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)
Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)

Forever let us hold our banner high.
High. High. High.

Boys and girls from far and near you're as welcome as can be.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Who is marching coast to coast and far across the sea?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)
Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)

Forever let us hold his banner high.
High. High. High.

Come along and sing a song and join the family.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Hey, there!
Hi, there!
Ho, there!
You're as welcome as can be.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

Me And You Setting In A Honeymoon

     My ideal honeymoon destination would have to be in a place that is somewhat secluded from the rest of the world (not because of the lovemaking, mind you). When people think of honeymoons, they usually link it to one thing: sex. It's true that sex is a big part of the whole honeymoon tradition, but sex isn't going to be my number one priority while I'm there.
     I'm thinking of a place that has nice lighting, maybe on a tropical island (other than the one I live on now). My honeymoon suite will not be in a hotel, but in a sort of cottage housing (not log cabins!). Nice concrete walls, a wooden deck, big windows in some parts of the place to give a very lively view of the landscape from inside, possibly a pool or a hot tub (or both), cool days, chilly nights, probably near a beach. Aw man, I'm getting myself riled up for something that may cost hundreds of thousands of dollars! A girl can dream, right?
     I want to get away for a while, so maybe we'll be on the honeymoon for about a week or two. He better be rich (I'm just kidding) so he can pay for it all. The food better be good, we'll probably buy a cookbook and start from there. It'll be cute and we'd both have fun together. How cute is that? I want nice loose clothing, and maybe some yoga pants. Speaking of yoga, the destination should be meditation-friendly so I can catch up on some yoga (possibly with the mister).
     All in all, I'd want a place that I can go back to in my memories and think to myself, "that was such a fun and unforgettable experience." I want to vividly remember the early Tuesday mornings where I'd sit on the deck, curled up on a chair with a blanket, sipping on some coffee. I want to remember the late nights we spend talking and laughing. I want to remember the moments that were anything but perfect. I want to be able to say that those were some of the best moments of my life. And it all starts with an "I do."

OH MY GOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Health Tips

     One way to be healthy is to change your diet, of course. It may not seem easy (honestly, it really isn't easy to change diets), but it is possible. First, start with a positive attitude. No more with the "I can't" or the "it's impossible." It is possible. Second, make some changes on your grocery list. Purchase more fruits and vegetables. When you are cooking, make sure to use non-stick alternatives to cooking oil just to make your dish a bit healthier. On to the greens: Nutrients are one of the main reasons we eat vegetables, so to keep their nutrients, try steaming your vegetables instead of boiling them. Try incorporating as much vegetables in your diet as possible.
     Cut back on the junk food. ever heard of the phrase "It'll go straight to your thighs"? Well, junk food contains a whole lot of calories which will definitely not do your body good. Calories are good, but too much of them is a bad thing. Snack on something with a lower calorie count. And what other way to get rid of calories than by working out? Work out is good for your body. When you work out, you sweat, when you sweat, your body allows itself to detoxicate which is a good thing. Working out also releases certain endorphins that make you happy! Not only are you getting fit, you're being a nicer person. How cool is that?

What The Fuck Is So Special About Valentine's Day?

     Well, tonight put me in a bad mood. This morning was fine. I was fine. I made no plans with my boyfriend, and I was okay with that. It's a school day and I had a volleyball game right after school, so nothing could be planed, really. I spent the day fine.
     About 7:30 in the evening my boyfriend texts me and asks me if I could go over to his house after he's had dinner with his family. I--thinking of Valentine's Day, and how it's the day of love and whatnot--decide to put off some plans for that night, and cut the visit to my dad's house short. I planned on doing my homework right when I got home, so I could catch up on some early sleep. I had to cancel that. I asked if I could just bring my homework to his house because I'd been sick the past few days and needed to catch up on a lot of stuff. He said that would be fine.
     I spend the next hour driving home, and getting ready. By the time I left the house, it was already past nine. As I walked to my car I thought, "Man this is pretty late, but I'll sacrifice my time for the sake of Valentine's Day." Sure enough, after some time driving over to his house (he doesn't live close, by the way) I get a text saying that he'd prefer it if I could "reschedule." "Reschedule"?! Reschedule the time that I wasted getting ready for something that wasn't even worth it? No.
     In a fit of fury and frustration, I sped back home, told my mom how much of a waste of time this night was, and rushed to my room. The thing that would have been the least bit helpful was for him to at least call. I didn't hear my ring for my message, and by the time he re-sent it, it was too late, I was long past my house. I didn't reply to his texts until I had cooled down, and even then, my reply was still satirical and cold. I didn't intend to hide how pissed off I felt.
     I put him as my first priority when I had all these other important priorities to tend to, and he blew me off last-minute. Great. Just great.

Happy Valentine's Day, bitches.

Dear Cupid

     Dear Cupid, please aim your arrows at Paul McCartney, Robert Sheehan, Francisco Lachowski, David Tennant, Adrien Sahores, and the rest of my list of sexy men for me. Thank you!

Please

     Please don't judge me. Don't sort me into any class without thoroughly getting to know me. I hide so many things from so many people, sometimes it results in people seeing only one side of me. I prefer to keep my secrets to myself, and I prefer it if people respected that. No one has to know the true me, and if I do decide to let someone know the true me, that's when they have the right to judge me. I may say things that I don't mean, or things that are completely invalid, but when I say them, I say them from my heart. I may be lost in the moment when I say things, but they are what I feel. They are the parts of me that can't contain themselves inside my mind. It's hard to explain myself completely, so I decide to hide a lot of myself away in the shadows. I think differently than most people, so my morals and thoughts may sound silly to some, maybe even unrecognizable.
     This different way of seeing things makes way for potential enemies. I don't look for enemies, I'm as nice as possible to people until they cross me. This is the biggest reason I'm writing this post, because there may have been many misunderstandings between a few people and I. I don't try to look for trouble, but I'm always prepared for it. If I have said anything to offend you, I'm sorry. I apologize because I never truly mean to insult anyone in any way. I'm direct, so I say it how it is. Don't make the truth a reason to hate me.









(Well, this has sort of been a deep, sappy rant. I don't like writing like this, but it's truly how things seem to me. Ugh. Why can't people just be nice. Jesus H!)

Oi, Dickhead

Here are the men who I've claimed, and no one can have:

• Paul McCartney
• Robert Sheehan
• Francisco Lachowski
• David Tennant
• Adrien Sahores
• Ryan Taylor
• James Dean
• Jakob Hybholt
• Fernando Torres 
• Ralph Fiennes 
• (Probably more, let me wrap my mind around them in the next couple of days)

They're all a part of my sexy men fantasy, so just leave me be. If you like them, make sure I know nothing of the sort, so I'll be happy.

Flabbergasted Beyond Compare

     I had the best dream ever in my life last night. I remember it so vividly. I think it was a mix of that one scene from "I Just Want My Pants Back" and the GIFs I saw on Tumblr of David Tennant from the mini-series "Casanova," and from when I made out on the hood of my car, and probably from the fact that his nickname is David "Ten-inch." Yeah, his fans went there. Anyway, it was pretty quick, but it was worth it. It's the first dream I've ever had like this. Never in my life has this happened. They say that dreams aren't direct projections of your subconscious, dreams project something that's supposed to mean something else. You know, like when you use the word "banana" to refer to a penis. It's like that. Not direct, but you know what it's insinuating.

Anyway, to make a long story short, we had sex. Lol, it wasn't graphic or anything. I just knew we did.

LIFE: FULFILLED

My Favorite Dish

     I really don't have a favorite dish. It just depends on my mood. Sometimes I feel really carnivorous, so I crave steak, or some chicken, or maybe some pork. If I'm feeling like a hippie, I'd crave some salad, or some fruit. When I'm craving something Scottish, my favorite dish would be David Tennant. If I'm craving something English, I'd probably have some Paul McCartney, or some fish and chips. My favorite Irish dish would definitely have to be Robert Sheehan, who could resist?! Anything else I'm missing?
     If I'm craving some old-fashion American dish, I'd definitely go for some James Dean, or some Marlon Brando. If I'm craving a Brazilian dish, my body will definitely be satisfied with some Francisco Lachowski, with a dab of Marlon Teixeira. French dishes anyone? Something better than escargot? Has to be some Adrien Sahores or some Pierre Boulanger, oh, and don't forget that savory Clement Chabernaud. If I'm feeling a bit rebellious, and I want to break the rules, I'd have some Ash Stymest. Something exotic from the pits of Europe? Definitely some Jakob Hybholt and some Yuri Pleskun. Delicious. Canadian dishes? Ryan Taylor, of course. No one can turn down some Ryan Taylor.
     You see, I like dishes from all around the world. I simply can't have a single favorite dish when there is a whole variety of them that have different qualities and tastes. Too many to choose from! It's impossible! It's like trying to make and Ood laugh, you just can't. I hope you take my advice and try all the dishes of the world!

                                    

Listen Up, Kids

     If and when I decide to have children, the lessons I'd teach them would be reenforced throughout their childhood so they would grow up to be smart, independent, loving, and successful people. I've honestly made so many mistakes in my life. Even though I'm still seventeen, I've learned a lot. One of the first things I'd teach my children is importance of education. I have found out the hard way that in order to be a successful person in general, one must be able to understand things. Understanding and building an understanding of everything is really important. I would teach my children to work hard in school... or else.
     Another thing I would teach my children is to be nice but not to let anyone push them around. This is from experience. I don't look for enemies, I really don't, but again, I don't let people push me around. When I have a problem, I voice it, or I do something about it. My children will not be pushovers. I will not let them be. They will fight for what they know is right. I'll raise them to understand the differences between right and wrong (without any prejudices).
     I'd teach my kids to have fun, and not take things too seriously. It's one thing to be mad, and it's another thing to be a sore loser. No one likes a sore loser. My kids will have good intentions, and when they lose at something, they'll accept defeat and move on. Dwelling in the past is one of my faults, and I don't want my kids to do the same.
     My children should understand the value of things. Growing up, I've always understood that nothing is forever, the world is suffering, that there's always a limit to abundance. I will each my kids to be happy with what they have (and of course, I'd spoil them every now and then). I don't want snobby children who could care less that their parents got them a new pony for their birthday. None of that will be tolerated.
     Patience is a virtue that I'll teach my kids. I myself am not a patient person, and that's okay, but sometimes it's not okay. I'll teach my kids how to... let's say, be as patient as their little bodies can be without having them want to burst out in fury. Patience is a precept that I can be lenient on.
     Lastly (but definitely not the end of my many lessons) I'd teach my kids to shoot for the stars. Nothing big ever came to someone who didn't have a purpose. If my kid has a passion for something, I'd totally be supportive. When someone is there supporting you, you'll have the tenacity to keep it up. I want my kids to know that I'll always have their backs. I'm their mother, and it's in my nature to protect and nurture my children. I won't ignore their dreams, nor will I question them. If they want something, they will work for it, and I'll be there to support them the whole way through.
     I see my children as a second chance; to pass down my lessons and knowledge; to stir them away from my mistakes; and to guide them through life so they would be better people than I was. I'll tell them everything, good and bad, and hopefully, they'll understand and live happy, fruitful lives.

I'm Entering A Deep Depression

I'm coming to that point where the tenth Doctor (David Tennant) is going to die and a new Doctor will regenerate. I don't want David Tennant to leave the show. He makes a perfect Doctor. I'm going to cry and fall into a deep depression after he leaves. You know that feeling where you have something awesome and irreplaceable, but it gets stolen or lost forever? That's how I'm feeling right now. David Tennant is my awesome and irreplaceable something.

BUT I LOVE HIM, PAPA! I love him. Don't take him away from me!

I Have Encountered The Best Knock-Knock Joke Ever

GET READY FOR IT

"Knock-knock"

"Who's there?"

"Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"

Doctor Who?

     Are there any words to accurately describe the feelings I get when I hear, see, or even speak of Doctor Who? No. Nothing can accurately describe my love for this show. It's gripping, sentimental, and fun. It's one of the few (well actually, one of two) television shows where I would go out of my way to watch all the episodes. It's one of the best, if not the best show I've ever had the chance to witness.

     It's safe to say that I'm in love with David Tennant. He absolutely makes a marvelous doctor. Compared to the first doctor, there are huge differences in appearance, and probably attitude, but David (the tenth Doctor) is just, just.... again, there are no words to describe my feelings.

     I'm getting to the point of the show where David Tennant's reign as the Doctor is coming to an end. I will cry. I will cry my heart out when he finally does leave. I'm cherishing every moment that he's on screen, and I'll refuse to take my eyes off of him while he's still there. God rest my soul when the new Doctor comes. I know I'll have to give him a chance. Maybe I'll like this new Doctor, but I know I'll not like him as much as I love David Tennant. NO ONE CAN REPLACE DAVID TENNANT. NO ONE. IT'S BEST YOU PUT HIM BACK ON THE SHOW. SO MANY HEARTS ARE BROKEN BECAUSE OF THIS. SO. MANY. HEARTS.

What I Fear The Most

     My worst fear is losing my mind. Not necessarily going crazy, but losing my sense of reality. I fear that  I'll see things that aren't there, and that I'll hear voices that no one else can hear. It's frightening because it's all in my head. No one else is able to relate to me. No one can help mitigate the nonsense that is going on within my mind. I also fear being confined in the deepest, darkest chambers of my subconscious mind, not being able to tell whether it's reality or not. I'm afraid that my worst thoughts will come to life and make my world a living nightmare. I'd rather be dead, for death is simple; it is short and painless.
     I'm not afraid to die. Mental torture is what gets me. The mind is what makes a person, and if that mind is flawed or lost, so is the person it belongs to. I thrive on my sanity. I don't think much for religion or spiritual stuff because my sanity keeps me from believing so. It makes me who I am. If ever my sanity begins to slip, so will I.
     Have you ever seen those horror movies where the killers mess with a person so badly that it drives them to insanity? That's what I fear. It's the thought of not being present. The thought of being lost. I don't want to go crazy; I don't want to feel insecure. I like contentment: reality. Imagination isn't real, actions are. Dreams aren't real, actual events are. There are differences between real and not real, and the day I lose my sense of reality is the day I lose everything, and that scares me the most.

A Talk With My Yoga Teacher

     My yoga teacher and I had a talk today, and my views on some things have changed, for sure. She says that when a person is faced with a strong-minded, independent person, they act as if that strong-minded person is a threat. It is true. I'm not afraid to let my opinions be heard when things are wrong, nor am I afraid to stand up for myself and defend my voice. This is why those "mean girls" don't like me. I don't fall for their "shallowness" and "insecurities." Their bullying is all they know how to do. It takes a strong person to stand up to them, and when someone does, they're not used to that. This is where I come in. I can stand up for myself even with no one by my side. Hopefully, I'll be able to pave a pathway for everyone else to follow.
   

The flaws you pick on with other people are the flaws you see in yourself. Remember that.

Mean Girls

     You know, I've never actually thought that those popular, narcissistic high school girls in those movies even existed. I've grown up on this tiny island, and I go to a very small high school. I've never had problems with anyone; I've never been in fights with anyone; I've never wanted to cause any harm, or wanted to ruin someone's life. No, nothing of the sort. I've always thought that those girls were only in movies; only actresses. Not anymore.
     Saipan International School is really small. Honestly, really small. So small that you could memorize every person's name in the whole high school if you wanted to. It's possible. This small atmosphere should cause people to know each other, therefore, understand each other better. Unfortunately, there is this lot of girls who I don't particularly take a liking to. They say what they want and do what they want, and it's making them look so bad. People are too afraid to stand up to them because they come off as relentless and inconsiderate, and I'm beginning to believe that is exactly what they are.
     I'm not trying to be mean by saying these things. I'm but speaking from experience. I'm the only person I know who is brave enough to stand up to them. I don't give a fuck what they think about me. They have no morality when it comes to judgement. It's honestly not okay to talk negatively about a person just because of their appearance. It's downright neadrethal behavior. Who makes assumptions of a person, and then talks badly about him or her without even getting to know the person? They do, duh.
     Today is the day that I officially declared myself fed up with them. During volleyball practice after school, one of the drills required some of us to spike the ball while the other half went and fetched the balls on the other side of the court. Well, it only seemed like three people were going after the volleyballs. They stood around chin-wagging. A ball landed near them, and I called out for them to get it. They heard, but ignored me. Yeah, something's messed up with this picture, huh? Our coach told all of us to gather the balls. I went and fetched the few that I could. Apparently, they were mocking me: "There's a ball over there," they said. "Keep it up, get expelled. Good luck with that," they said. I said those words. To me, only children mock for no reason.
     Now, (thanks to the internet and Twitter), they're making it seem like I'm the bad person. I did not instigate anything. I did not act rude or disrespectful around them. I did not give them any reason to do what they did. They see me as a threat, and I know it. I can handle this alone, but I know people who object to these girls, as well. They just don't say anything about it. They act all nonchalantly in front of them, but talk behind their backs. I don't like that. If there's a problem, make it known, that's the only way things will change.
     I'm left alone. To fend for myself. None of my friends respect me or themselves enough to not necessarily fight for me, but fight with me. I don't like thinking this way, but it makes me question my bond with the friends I have. I would do anything--I would change my views, I would make a fool of myself--to defend a friend, but none of them are willing to do the same for me. This is why I'm better off on my own. No one to have hopes on to help me out, no one to fight with me.
     This is where the mean girls have their advantage. They have numbers; they stick together. I don't have that. None of my friends stick up for me, none of them. If any of them are reading this now, I'd like to make that known. If you're not willing to go out of your way to fight with me, don't consider yourself my friend, because that brings you to the same level as the mean girls.

Greatest Invention

     Practically speaking, I believe that the greatest invention is the toilet. First off, if you think about it, life would be completely--completely-- different if the toilet wasn't invented. Without the invention of the toilet, the streets would be filled with feces, the smell of urine will linger over every corner, crack, and crevas of every town, and heath concerns will be the world's number one priority. Forget about wars against other countries! Think about the wars average people would face against their own by-products! The world for humans would be a complete disaster without toilets, perhaps the human race will not have come to where it is now without the invention of the toilet.
     Think deeper, childhoods will not be the same. No "Mommy, I need to go potty now" coming out of every child's gob. No "Teacher, may I go to the bathroom?" at school. The childhoods we experience today would absolutely be different without the toilet. Growing up for an adolescent female with the absence of the toilet would be.... well, I'm sure you ge the picture. Let's just say that things wil be very unpleasant, and very unsanitary.
     Let us elaborate on the cleanliness issue, shall we? There are a lot of safety precautions regarding cleanliness today. A big precaution is keeping people from throwing their shit at each other (hypothetically speaking, of course. I'm not saying that people are literally going to be throwing shit at each other, but the spread of disease will make up for that statement). A lack of waste control will cause widespread disease, and many great inventions/ creations probably will have never been made. Monuments such as skyscrapers (or even just tall buildings), hotels, boats, airplanes, etc. All those and many more would be a pain to maintain without the toilet. Airplanes most especially. Imagine being on a fifteen-hour flight holding in a massive load. Not going to be good. Let's not forget after a long night of partying, who's going to hold your hair up while you puke in.... oh wait, that's right, you need a toilet for that too. Where would dead pet fishes go? The myth of crocodiles in the sewer? There wouldn't even be a sewer!
     Overall, the absence of the toilet would prove disaster for the world, especially with such a massive population. Toilets may not seem all that great because people link them to a horrible stenches and unsanitary public use; sometimes toilets may be seen as dirty and gross, but they're really what help keep everything else clean and sanitary. Thank your lucky stars someone had the brains to think up the invention of the toilet.

SITTIN' ON THE TOILET. SITTIN' ON THE TOILET. SITTIN' ON THE TOILET. SITTIN' ON THE TOILET.

Today Was Productive

     I hope you sensed my sarcasm in the post title. Today really wasn't all that productive. For the past couple of days, something had been irritating my right eye to the point where the eye was literally bawling. My right eye was crying like hell while my left eye stayed perfectly fine.
     I think something got caught in my eye and didn't want to come out. I searched and searched, but no luck. I slept two nights with this painful invader lodged in my eye. My dad thought that I may have accidentally hurt my cornea, but I could beg to differ. It literally felt like a large grain of sand had found its way into my eye, and nested itself toward the back corner of my socket. Every eye-movement, every blink resulted in sheer pain. My eyelids had enough of the torture and decided to just keep shut. I ended up not studying for my AP World History exam, and instead went straight to sleep (if you call crying silently for hours sleep).
     On the flip side, I caught up on some Doctor Who and rested to the point where I was able to laugh again.

My Favorite Book

     Today's in-class assignment is asking us to write about our favorite book. Well, I honestly don't have a favorite book, but if I were to choose one at the moment, I'd probably choose The Picture of Dorian Gray  by Oscar Wilde. The book's setting is held in a serious time, and has this eerie feeling throughout the storyline. A friend of mine, Lauren, let me borrow the book, and I read the first hundred pages in one night.
     The opening scene of the book starts with an old painter painting a portrait of Dorian Gray,  wealthy, good-looking, young man. Dorian Gray is a gentle, kind soul, but something changes in him after he sees the finishing painting of himself. He gets angry and curses the world and time. He is envious of his portrait because as he grows older and less attractive, the painting stays the same.
     As Dorian Gray's life goes on, he becomes more and more bitter. His personality changes because he realizes that his good-looks are only temporary. He has teken the idea of hedonism quite seriously, and bases his life on the idea throughout the rest of the book. Part of this pleasure, Dorian Gray finds a love, Sybil Vane, who is a wonderful actress, but poor. Dorian Gray adores Sybil, and is prompted to marry her. They would frequently meet in secrecy and use code names for each other. Dorian Gray also loves Sybil for her acting; she can perform Shakespeare perfectly. After going to a show where Sybil's acting was less than impressive, however, Dorian Gray falls out of love. Sybil's reaction was suicide.
     The more immoral things Dorian Gray performs, the more it reflects on his portrait. His face in real life stays perfect and angelic, while his paining slowly rots. Surprisingly, this is where the fiction comes in. The portrait reflects Dorian Gray's soul. The more evil Dorian Gray becomes, the more the portrait will change. The portrait progressively begins to look more and more execrable and sinister-like. I don't want to spoil anything more (although I've already spoiled enough), so I'll stop there.
     The book kept me coming back for more. I couldn't take my eyes off the words for one second before burying my nose back into the pages of such a glorious piece of work. Oscar Wilde's novel was widely controversial during the time he wrote and published it. According to the preface of the book, many people looked at the book as an omen, a curse toward people: the devil's work. Others, however, found Wilde a literary genius. The Picture of Dorian Gray is a book worth reading. It's not like most books, and that is probably the reason I enjoyed it as much as I did.

The cover of the copy I read (Barns & Noble)

Tears

     Okay, so I just finished The Kite Runner and even though the story ended on a happy level, I'm still really sad. Poor Hassan. I really liked him, and I can't help but feel so sorry for the dear man. I mean, his life was crap, his father somewhat abandoned him, he was always being bullied, he was a poor servant boy, and his only friend watched him get raped and then ran off to America! When he got older, he bears a child with his wife, but then gets shot out in the street by the Taliban, along with his wife. It's such a sad story to me. I cried.... or came really close to it.
     What a good book. Khaled Hosseini really knows how to dig deep into emotions.

Look at this boy!