i know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

remember that book i wrote a while back? i think i may have mentioned it once or twice... a day last fall. anyways, a couple of months ago i entered it (almost completely unedited lol) into amazon's contest. i made it past the first round, but didn't make it to the third. BUT in the second round, your first three chapters (or the first 5,000 words... whichever comes first) are reviewed. my reviews just got here (as in my inbox) today. here's what my two reviewers had to say:

ABNA Expert Reviewer

What is the strongest aspect of this excerpt?

It's another coming of age high school thing, among girls this time, and it's very well-written. It's chock full of vivid lively detail, with things going on, very clearly written, with good dialog and descriptive writing. There's also a little bit of unexpected action on the part of its characters,and occasional flashes of wit. That helps to lighten a bit the predictability of high school reminiscences. Audrey, the protagonist, is an interesting character, and Laura, her friend, also appears promising. Their activities, while rather high school typical, have some interest.

What aspect needs the most work?

There is no hint nor foreshadowing of where this story is going. I really am not familiar with young adult readers, nor their literature, but I'd be surprised if they don't want a story to go somewhere, to have a beginning, middle and end. We've got a nice beginning here, but I would expect much more, and a clue that I'm going to get it if I read on.

What is your overall opinion of this excerpt?

It is lively and very well-written, the language is clear, dialog is fine, description is excellent and there's even the odd flash of wit. But I have no interest whatsoever in high school redux such as this. I guess I might find it tolerable if set in Africa or Latin America, someplace with which I am not familiar, or if it was written, say, from the point of view of a Frank McCourt kind of life of extreme poverty. I guess I am not a good fit with young adult books.

ABNA Expert Reviewer

What is the strongest aspect of this excerpt?

This novel is told from the first person point of view of a very sympathetic narrator. The reader is given complete access to her thoughts and movitations, and i feel as if this character would be easily relatable for many young adult readers, both male and female. The prose style is accessible and smooth.

What aspect needs the most work?

While I was motivated to continue reading because of the engaging prose style and the sympathetic protagonist, the story seems to lack a central narrative tension, and instead seems to focus almost entirely on the narrator's inner turmoil. It is clear that this is a novel about adolescent depression, however, I felt the story could have had a stronger hook to keep me turning the pages.

What is your overall opinion of this excerpt?

This is a very strong excerpt, and deals with serious emotional subject matter and yet is accessible and enjoyable. I am compelled to read further because I relate to this character, a girl who reminds me of a female Holden Caulfield. Teen apathy and depression are dangerous and endemic, and ought to be addressed in literature. However, I am curious how this novel is set apart from other YA stories with similar themes or topics.

soooo can i just say that the comment about holden caulfield made me eeeeeee repeatedly? i think if the rest of both reviews were saying my writing was complete crap that would make up for them completely. the fact that they weren't crap is just icing on the cake. i apparently need to bring the hook up in the book, but i mean that's a lot better than hearing that the writing style sucked, right? right. and it gives me actual stuff to fix (kinda) which is all i wanted.

i am excited.

i have changed my plans from freelance editor to critique group after i tighten the first few chapters. then, after the summer i will send to agents. succeed or fail i will try my hand at this whole writing professionally thing. *deep breath* it scares me to death.

*The Cave - Mumford and Sons

been far away for far too long

i'd like to take a minute to apologize for how pathetic my blog has become lately. updates are infrequent and rarely entertaining but if you could just hold on until june when everything will have calmed down a lot then i would love you forever. it feels like things are crazy, but at the same time it seems like i'm never doing anything. except cleaning and dishes. i never knew there could be so many dishes to wash every minute of every day. i swear i think they're breeding.

it feels like whenever i do get a chance to sit down to blog it comes out a lot more whiny that i intended, and not liking to sound like a whiny brat, i delete the post instead of publishing it. so to keep the whinyness from rearing its ugly head, i will be making this post sound like it has ADD. keeping everything short and simple and whine-free.

first of all, i think if i never sleep on an air mattress again in my life, i'd be perfectly happy. or at least never sleep on one when someone else spends all day sitting on it and deflating it for me. and at least not one on the wrong side of the room, because that continues to disorient me every single day. anyways, plastic is bad right? (way to broadcast my ignorance across the internet.) that's why water bottles are using less of it in their bottles. so my future refusal of air mattresses can be some weird going green thing.

also, do you know how expensive it is to get an unbiased objective critique/edit of a manuscript?? very. it's ridiculous. prices range from around four hundred dollars to over three thousand depending on length and what services the editor offers. so if any of you readers are looking for a job, may i suggest becoming a freelance editor? pay is great, and you may stumble on the next great american novel in your work and say that you discovered it.

i also thought i'd mention that i'm not the biggest fan of the whole grad school thing, and i really should start on at least one of the four papers i have looming ahead of me in this last stretch of school. i just can't find the time, so procrastinating seems like such a good course of action. i know i'll regret this when i'm trying to write fifty plus pages in a couple of weeks, but that's still a while away. maybe if i fail out i'll become a freelance editor.

*Far Away - Nickelback

just like a circus

so, this was/is a weekend of circuses. yesterday we threw my brother's birthday party. he had chosen his theme the day after his party last year (the narnia one). and yes, he chose circus. i was the bearded lady and made an awesome cake. my sister, one of the clowns, made a monkey cut out thing where you stick your face in the hole and have a monkey body. you know what i'm talking about? yeah, and for someone who inherited barely more drawing skills than me (i got none) i must say it turned out pretty awesome.

anyway, today we are going to the real circus because a) my dad missed it last year, b) my brother was sick and couldnt really enjoy it last year, and c) neither my cousin nor grandma were here last year to see it.

also today, my other cousin is flying over the atlantic to stop here on his way to LA for college, for embassy related stuff and appointments. fun, no? how is this related to the circus, you may ask. well, you know the tiny clown cars with a bajillion clowns stuffed in? that is what our house will be beginning to feel like. our townhouse that is not used to holding any more than our family at a time. the one that barely seems big enough for just us at times. yes, that one, will have all bedrooms, some floors, and a couch occupied. so, if you have any other visitors that need a place to crash for a few days, send em along our way and we'll see how many more we can fit in.

in uncircus related news, i just remembered that a homework assignment assigned twelve years ago is due on wednesday. i don't even have the blank word document yet to give you an idea about how much i've gotten done on it. i dunno how much work it is going to be or how much time i'll get to do it what with the clown car town house and all. have i mentioned that i don't like grad school on this blog yet? well, i dont.

*Circus - Britney Spears

it creeps me out... you're creeping me out

okay, so, like i said i would in the previous post, here are the latest moments with creepy dude. oh, and sorry to disappoint the people that like to hear about creeps, but these will probably be the last of him. from now on, i am planning to show up to class not a minute before it starts and continue to be the first out the door when it ends to avoid any unnecessary contact. anyway, on to the moments.

some of these really don't seem that bad, i know, but you have to see him with his sleaziness oozing out from every pore of his body to get the whole effect. something about that kid is just really, really creepy.

though i'm sure there were a bunch, i don't really remember everything from last week. he did change my nickname from sexy sarah to smiley face... because apparently i'm always smiling? considering the fact that i dont find too much amusing in a late-night auditing class, i'm assuming he means the you-seem-insane-so-i'm-smiling-to-keep-you-calm nervous smile that he sometimes gets out of me. he also let me know more than once that "he likes my face." not in the light joking way that some people say it, but more in a way that sounds like he is biting back the words "hanging on my wall" at the last minute like some crazy serial killer. (okay, maybe a little extreme but there's something ominous about him.)

then, i was the first one out of class last week, and as polite people do, i was holding the door open for whoever was behind me. i was already halfway down the hall practically, but had my arm stretched out to make sure the door didnt slam in whoever's face. i hadnt bothered to check who that was, because my mind was more concerned about getting to my car to get home asap. i feel someone's hand on mine, so assuming it was an accident, i go to move my hand off the door. only i cant. as i yank my hand away, i turn to see creepy dude (hereby known as CD) laughing. i give a slightly annoyed look and leave without saying anything.

last night, we were sitting in class. CD sits in the first row, and i sit a couple of rows behind him because i refuse to get closer though he won't stop badgering me about it. the professor is usually pretty late, so CD came and sat next to me. he was babbling about something as i doodled in my notebook (apparently he doesnt take hints). the professor walks in, so CD goes to move back to his chair. i sit at the end of the row so he had to go behind me to get to the aisle and his seat in the front. as i'm listening to the professor say something about the homework he was supposed to have graded for us, i feel him pat my upper arm twice and then graze his fingers across my back as he walked by. i almost jumped out of my seat. if you know me at all, you'd know that i am not someone who is big on physical contact. i dont like it. i shy away from all touches, even more so from some random guy. "don't touch me," i mutter, trying not to disturb the professor. he leans down and says quietly near my ear, "give me your number." written here in words, it sounds a lot less shudder-inducing than it really was.

anyway, he has sufficiently creeped me out enough for the rest of the semester. thank god he is not getting the same degree as me, and as long as i choose my other two electives carefully, i should never have to see him again.

*Creeps Me Out - Ima Robot

we lost track of time

hey guess what?? it has officially been one year minus a few hours that i started my blog, and i for one am very surprised that not only did i keep it up for so long but i have not yet grown tired of it and plan to continue it for another year despite the lull in posts over the past week. and this year has totally flown by without my noticing it which i'm not sure is that good of a thing because it means that an entire year has disappeared from my life. i was originally going to plan some great special post or something to celebrate the occasion but i have not been in a posty mood as you have probably figured out so instead i'm apparently just celebrating by unintentionally writing run-on sentences instead of fragments. amazing, is it not?

anyway, creepy dude was super creepy tonight sooo expect a post tomorrow with a combination of last week and this week's creepiness because i don't feel like typing it right now because i am in a rambling mood so it'll get way too long.

instead, i'm going to finish this episode of gilmore girls and then try to get in a solid four hours of sleep before breakfast with the parents in the morning.

*Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers

why don't i ever have anything else to say?

*WARNING: long, pointless rambling ahead. feel free to move on to older posts or wait for newer ones if you don't have a lot of free time to kill.* (i wasnt going to put a warning until after i realized how long my rant was. then i felt sorry for all of you, because i am nice like that.)

so yesterday i was supposed to come home and write all the things creepy dude said and did to me which made me shudder, but judging from last time i wrote about him, you would enjoy. only i came home, and my cousin was still doing her gilmore girls marathon thing, and they were the jess episodes, and well, you know... how do you expect me to blog when i could be watching that?

so anyway, i thought "i'll just blog about them in the morning. i mean, i wake up at seven every morning to do all kinds of homeworky things that i have never once done at seven while everyone else is asleep until at least nine because that's when anisah has to wake up to get ready for class. might as well blog then." (yes, i have quite lengthy monologues that go on in my head when a short and snappy "eh, i'll do it tomorrow" wouldve worked just fine.)

so one o'clock comes around and my cousin goes to her room to read a bit and sleep. i do a last check of all stuff internet related and turn off joe. i almost go to sleep until my sister starts complaining about her ex-class and their most recent obnoxiousness and totally superficial arabness. (i tell you, it sure is reassuring that this future generation of doctors that will graduate from med school with honors can still get lost in the immaturity of high school dramas that should've ended somewhere around two years ago when they all graduated.)

anyway, it gets to be around one forty-fivish and i realize that she's just angrily repeating the same thing over and over while barely even bothering to change the words around. i take this as my cue to go to sleep, tell her the friends she texted to complain are most likely asleep, and that she should get over and get to sleep too. yup, i'm the really sympathetic one in the family.

i think i mightve fallen asleep, but i dunno if i actually did, when all of a sudden i am pulled back to the glaring light of our bedroom in wakingness by the sound of my sister complaining to aforementioned friend. repeating everything i had already heard several times. loudly. in the closet because... well... actually, i have no idea why she was in the closet unless she thought that by sitting in there i wouldnt be able to hear her very loud voice. it didnt work because i guess my parents never sprung for one of those sound-proof closets like everyone else has, and her voice can carry through the hollow wooden door that was separating us. there's a surprise.

i yell at her to shut up. she either a) doesnt hear me or b) doesnt listen. after several more failed attempts i debate getting up out of bed but decide against it, because i knew if i did i would smack her and that would probably delay the moment i actually got to sleep. so i gave up on her and pulled out my ipod. i am weird and for some reason can sleep through any music except my ipod. i mean, i sleep, but not deeply and am still consciously listening to the music at the same time. so anyway i put in the headphones figuring a half sleep is better than no sleep at all. i can still hear her. i put the volume on almost so loud i can feel my pillow vibrating. i can still hear her. it's like she's on a different frequency than my music. i put a pillow over my ead which really does nothing but make it harder to breathe.

of course, my body suddenly remembers that i am temporarily on a mattress that would ordinarily be used as a torture method in prison, and i can't get comfortable. and while trying to find a good position i get tangled in my stupid headphone wires twice, one time practically strangling me. i look at my cellphone and watch the clock count off the minutes, then the hours. i write a hate note to my sister and leave it on her pillow (i dunno it seemed like a good idea at the time. i was tired.) she finally decides that she is not an owl and goes to sleep at around fourish. if only i could do the same... which of course, i couldn't. so i end up falling asleep somewhere closer to five, only to kinda sorta wake up when my brothers do at six or something (i stopped looking at clocks. they were depressing me.) and then again at seven when my alarm went off. i lay in my bed for a while trying to force myself back to sleep, when i realized that there was no point and someone was going to have to wake anisah up at some point anyways.

so after checking school online stuff to see what i would be not doing this morning, i came here to write about creepy dude. only, i was tired and grumpy and this is what came out. and after writing all of this as a sort of preamble, i kinda figure that adding anything else would just be cruel. if you read all of this hoping for a point to spring up eventually, well, sorry about that. but i did warn you. and you should be a little used to me talking about nothing by now, right?

anyway, my sister is now downstairs about to head off to school, and guess what i can hear her telling my mom? again? yup.

*Smart in a Stupid Way - Steven Strait

i just wanna write you in a song

i dont know what exactly it is about this song (lyrics are a little too much like one of those poems being forced to rhyme to be my normal style), but it's been on repeat all morning. it reminds me of living in santa cruz for some strange reason. i think the weather and birds outside my window add to the feeling.

*You in a Song - Jason Reeves

sparks ignite and trade them for thought about no one and nothing in particular

thought one: there is this stupid cold or something going through our family. on repeat. my nephew had it and gave it to my cousin who in turn gave it to me and my mom. then my brothers got it and gave it back to my nephew who then gave it to his parents. my younger sister got it from them and i just got it back from her.

lesson learned: we spend way too much time with each other.

thought two: i am annoyed with almost everyone i know right now, and for no apparent reason, which makes me annoyed with myself because they really didnt do anything, which makes me annoyed with them because i dont like being annoyed with myself. i'm in a mood that has nothing to do with people at all, though, which is impossible to explain to people because apparently the world starts and ends with humanity, which starts this whole cycle over again. and if one more person asks if i'm okay, i think i will explode. i have always hated that phrase.

lesson learned: sleep is more important than i give it credit for, and my mind is on crack.

thought three: if any of my readers live in LA or NY, then i think you should go watch city island which is coming out this friday. i would, but seeing as i live in neither of those places, i can't. sooo you go watch it and get all of your friends to watch it so that it eventually gets to open everywhere and i'll be able to see it. then one day when i'm a rich and famous author i will write a book about how awesome you are.

lesson learned: i need to live in a more interesting city.

oh, and happy st patrick's day.

*Straight Lines - Silverchair

one of my favorite poems ever:

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

~Rudyard Kipling

breathing just passes the time until we all just get old and die

"your family talks about death too much. it's kinda creepy."

that's a paraphrased version of what my cousin has been saying for the month or so that she's been here. i never really noticed until she brought it up, but death is a common topic of conversation in our house. not in a really morbid way, but more in a death is perfectly normal kind of way.

a couple of days after she arrived, she came to me and my sister and said, her voice completely shocked, "i was talking to your dad about doing something in the summer when you guys come to jeddah, and he said 'if we're both still alive.' it was kinda ominous." this is my dad's answer to any and everything thing that has to do with the future. it has lost meaning to the rest of us, but apparently freaked her out.

then, we were sitting around the dinner table, and my brother tells one of my parents, "when you die, can i have (something which i dont remember)?" that's another common thing in our house that's been around for as long as i remember talking. we've always been asking my parents for their stuff "when they die."

we have had meetings about what to do in case of a parent's or both's death, including discussing all pertinent financial details about bank accounts and investments and whatnot. a lot of conversations will either start with or turn to a discussion about dead people and death in general. we tell each other to go die on a regular basis and talk about suicide rather fondly (though mostly jokingly because none of us are really suicidal). there are a bunch of other examples, but i dont feel like writing them down. main point is when lost for words, we turn to death.

we know that none of us will live forever and don't pretend any differently. to my cousin, this makes us morbid and weird. i think it just shows us to be prepared and not delusional or living in some fairy tale where we think we're immortal.

what do you think?

*Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying - Fall Out Boy

who can say where the road goes, where the day flows? only time

to some people, life is like one of those old fashioned video games, like original mario or something - you can move forward, but there's is absolutely no going back. there isnt even any standing still, because when you try it, the left side of the screen comes along and scoots you forward inch by inch. and while you're being pushed along on one side pretty much without your consent, you see a huge gaping ditch pop up on the other side of the screen. it's dark and foggy and ginormous and you try to see down to the very bottom because you know it's just a matter of time before you fall into it. but you can't so you just have to hold your breath and wait for the inevitable plummet into the unknown.

to others, life is nothing like that. the screen is pretty much stuck in one place, not pushing you forward, not really caring much if you go back a bit. there are no foggy pits to worry about falling into. it is like a barren desert stretching out as far as the eye can see. everything is exactly the same and going on forever. there arent even any trees or bushes for surprises to lurk behind. the ground is solid and unyielding, and you can't see any way out.

at the moment, my life feels like it has fallen indefinitely into the second category, and i kinda wish there was a daunting pit somewhere on the horizon for me to fall into. but there isnt, and all the jumping around hoping to open one up is completely pointless, despite the fact that i gave up on my diet weeks ago. i feel like i should have done so much more with my life by now. i should have done something. creeping up on twenty two and having no real accomplishments to my name depresses me.

i am waiting for the ground to fall out from under me, for the road to lead me somewhere notable.

oh, and as per request, my nephew is sick. this is me writing about it. now you all feel sorry for him and hope he gets better before his birthday party tomorrow.

*Only Time - Enya

delete, begin to rewrite me

after finishing sincerely, mr. nobody in november, i had this sudden wave of writing inspiration and confidence and a whole lot of sappy self-congratulating going on in my head. the tip of this iceberg was documented here in my blog. i was going to finish all the half-written things i had saved around my room in notebooks and computers. i had finished one thing, so i knew i could do it again. now, months down the line, a lot of that has disappeared.

it's not that i don't want to finish all the half-written stuff lying around, but it's more that i can't. for example, i thought i'd start out with evan's story. with sixty pages of it already typed out, it was the one that was closest to being done. it really only needed the filler parts to bridge between the scenes that i had wanted to write. problem is, i wrote most of this about four or five years ago, and while i had added a couple of scenes since then, i rarely went back to read what was already there. this time, i did. and oh my god is it some god-awful stuff. i love the characters and was pretty happy with the plot while i was writing it, but the writing is horrendous. this wasnt something that could be fixed by changing the wording of a sentence or two. this had to be torn down and torched and then rebuilt from scratch. i wasnt sure if i wanted to, or even could, do that. so i stopped. not only with that story, but kinda with all of them. you know, i lost my steam or whatever.

but he (evan) has been on my mind a lot lately, telling me not to ignore him. he was a really fun character to write, and i would love to continue his story (if i could ever find the time. probably in june). but i really don't think i can rewrite all of that. it is what it is. i'm thinking of maybe doing a sequel instead, but it wouldnt really be a sequel to anyone but me because no one else knows the first part exists. maybe i'll flashback to some of my favorite scenes in this story and rewrite parts that way. what do you think? (yes, i realize none of you needed to know this nor do you probably care, but that's the joy of being creator of this blog. i can write whatever i want.)

on a completely different note, yesterday was my nephew's first birthday. can i just say that time is moving entirely too fast for my liking?? how did an entire year already pass since he was born?

*Rewrite - Sia

trying to pick a fight

yesterday, my family and i went out to our usual saturday family lunch. i dont remember if i ever mentioned this or not, but when my family goes out to lunch together, my parents sit on one side of the restaurant and the rest of us sit on the other side. it's better for all of us this way, but the restaurant people always think we're weird. "you don't want to all sit together? we have a table that can fit you all," they always insist. we always say no.

anyways, yesterday we were at the place and my sister was standing and this lady bumped into her/pushed her. as she was sitting down, my sister said "i hate her!" but in arabic. my sister is kinda loud, so the lady heard her, but she wasnt like screaming it or anything. the lady glares daggers at her and as she is passing our table on the way back to hers she says "skanky bitch." we were shocked. first of all, what the hell? and second, my brothers were with us and i don't appreciate random people exposing them to that kind of language. i like to keep it as G as possible when they're around.

my sister says in disbelief, "seriously?" i mean, this was not a young kid. she was in her thirties at least. her oldest kid was a teenager. the lady replies with a "that's what i was thinking. seriously?" full of attitude. she goes on to say to the people at the table, "i walk past her and she screams like someone was killing her," and other mumblings that showed that she wasnt upset that my sister had something in arabic (which i would kinda understand) but that she "screamed." it really wasnt that loud, and i mean, grow up lady.

anisah is all for confronting people and standing up for herself and all that. but we go to that place a lot. the lady was obviously not worth a scene but completely ready to make one. we were about to leave anyway. so my cousin and i stopped my sister from saying anything else and we left.

it took a while for my sister to get over the fact that we stopped her from starting a fight, and the fact that some random lady said that took a while to.

this story would've been better if i told it yesterday instead of waiting.

*My Life Would Suck Without You - Kelly Clarkson

a long time ago, we used to be friends

like most people, we have this dude that delivers our mail to us. him and i used to be friends. we would wave to each other when we passed the other on the road. we would exchange pleasantries when he had something big to deliver to our door. i always had only the best to say about him. and then... then this semester happened.

it all started when i was waiting for my dvds of primeval. amazon told me they were delivered, but i most definitely did not have them. (i mentioned this in my blog before.) anyways, i went to the mail people asking where my stuff was. the next morning, it was on our doorstep. before the mail came. opened and retaped shut. my dvds were all still in their plastic wrap so i brushed it off. i mean, nothing was missing or damaged so whatever, right?

then, i get a letter from my grandma in the mail. it contained several pages of edits for my book, so it was kinda thick. it was also opened before it got to me. but the edits and card were all still there so i continued to think the best of people and said maybe it magically got opened in the mailbox or something. whatever.

one of my latest amazon orders was shipped to my sister's house (mainly because i didnt wanna hear another fatherly lecture about how i was wasting my money, but also because my brother's birthday present was in it and i didnt want him to know it was delivered). it was still in my name, though. one part of the shipment said it was delivered march first. thing is, it wasnt. you know when it was delivered? today. or yesterday i guess since there's no mail on sunday, but she got it today. that's almost a whole week since the postal service said they delivered it.

i had to send my transcript to my scholarship advisor person recently. i sent it almost two weeks ago. i was getting annoyed because she kept saying that she hadn't received it and she needed it and stuff. yesterday, i get it back in the mail. it was opened. in red ink on the front was written 'wrong envelope.' umm what?? how can an envelope be wrong?? it was a normal white envelope that i send everything in all the time. how come it was never wrong before?? and why was it opened??

holding someone's mail is a federal offence. opening someone's mail is a federal offence. you'd think that working for the post office he would know that. so you know what, mr. postman? me and you are over. i will no longer wave or smile or say anything to you. when i think of you, my thoughts will be acerbic.

i tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but you didnt want it, so just leave my mail alone.

*We Used to be Friends - The Dandy Warhols

maybe this is how it's supposed to be

today was supposed to be the first productive day of the semester. i was supposed to finish my midterm and get a good start on my homework (both of which are due in a few days). i was even supposed to do a little reading for my third class if i had time. but see, the thing about supposed tos are that they dont really like me. so of course my day was instead filled with my nephew (who provides very entertaining distraction) and tv. when my nephew left, my sister, cousin, and i watched alice, which just came in the mail today. i've been waiting to get it forever. great miniseries. anyway, in the times spent at my computer attempting to "work," i stumbled around the internet. here are some of my finds.

this made me laugh... just not out loud. if you read/watch harry potter and ever felt like harry is a bit overrated, you should look at it.

you know the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words? well, this site believes the opposite. a short paragraph describes a scene that was not captured by a photograph. i love it.

if this comic was my future, i'd be happy. my kids can be bibliophibians.

this is a review about what is said to be the worst book ever written. it sounds completely awful... and kinda made me wanna read the book, just to see the awfulness firsthand.

i have an obsession with bookcases. these (and this) are all on my wishlist. my birthday is april 18. feel free to ship them directly to my house. the fact that i have no room for these does not matter at all.

in the virtual world of twitter and emails, a lot of emotions are lost in the act of writing. fuzzmail is an attempt to end that. it records all typos, pauses, erased sentences, reworded phrases... everything. according to its about me, it's creating a way for a love email to be distinguished from a business email. it's awesome.

so um that's it, or at least i feel like posting. random side note: i hate editing with a passion. it's torture.

*Supposed To Be - Jack Johnson

seems that all i really was doing was waiting for love

with my cousin here, we are going through our entire movie collection, and watching almost every single one. this means that movies that have been pushed to the very back and forgotten about for years are suddenly dusted off and rewatched. (i admit some of them required a lot of force and tricking before she would watch them, like moulin rouge! but i couldnt live in a world where someone refused to watch a good movie because she "watched the beginning and it was bad.")

anyway, a few days ago we watched little women. this is the first movie i actually remember going to see in a movie theater a million and a half years ago. i would assume that all of you have watched the movie/read the book/know the story, but apparently one of my sister's more literate friends hadnt sooo i cant assume anymore.

to completely ruin one of the plot lines for you, at one point of the movie laurie (the neighbor) asks jo (the second oldest sister) to marry him. they had been best friends forever and apparently he had always loved her and all that other good stuff. she refuses. it always used to annoy me that she said no to him, because i always loved him in the first half of the movie (after she says no to him, his character kind of goes downhill). after she says no and tells him that she really doesnt see herself as a wife, laurie tells her (in the movie, i cant remember what he says in the book), "Someday you'll find a man, a good man, and you'll love him, and marry him, and live and die for him. And I'll be hanged if I stand by and watch." jo spends some time saying how she's an idiot throwing away perfectly good marriage proposals (because i mean, laurie is awesome, even she knows that), and she moves off to new york and tries to fulfill her dream of becoming an author. there, she meets and falls in love with some foreign professor dude and they live happily ever after.

someone recently emailed me about my about me section, asking how i could be a cynical idealist. how can you be both? well, here's one example how. i believe in true love, like the ones found in books and movies. fairytale love is real, it has to be, and is out there somewhere. the cynical part of me, though, believes it is pretty much unattainable. it exists in the same place the fairies are hiding out (cause they're real, too), and how often do you see a real fairy? never. the idealist in me, that refuses to give up the belief that it exists even if it is hidden somewhere no one can get at it, also refuses to settle for anything less than that fairytale love. like jo, i'll wait for "a good man, and [i]'ll love him, and marry him, and live and die for him." even if it means passing up "perfectly good proposals" on the way.

sidenote: i never really liked jo's professor dude.

sidenote: language back then was so much nicer. compare phrases like "i'll be hanged" and "blast" to what people say now. yeah...

*Real Love - The Beatles