Friday, March 7, 2014

My Look

To say it simply, you are about to read about how I look.  Hang on tight!

  • #1 - My clothes

I have never worn Abercrombie & Fitch.  That has just never happened.  From Hollister, I only own an orange-red sweater that I found at a garage sale.  I own nothing from Underarmor, Chanel, or most other name brands.  Too expensive and too mainstream!  I only wear whatever fits and looks decent.  One day I might look like a movie star and look like a slob the next. It depends on what I feel like.

As for colors, there is no color I will not wear! All colors are masterpieces in themselves and are beautiful in every combination. However, I'm not very good with color coordination, but like I care.

My personal preferences to colors are red, black, the occasional bit of yellow, and at rare times, green.  Red has been my favorite for as long as I can remember, and I don't know if I will ever have a different favorite.  I even have a bright red coat that is perfect for autumn!

This was the closest I could get to mine.  The one I have has six red buttons and coarser fabric, but this is close enough.

  • #2 - My accessories

I don't wear much jewelry, but I do have six ankle bracelets that I braided from colored threads.  Each one represents a fictional character that I like.  "Like" as in thinking that he is admirable or attractive.  Sometimes I wear a cute pendant.  I don't have my ears pierced, but I have one pair of clip-on cupcake earrings that I picked up at a girly store in the mall.  Maybe after I graduate I'll get around to getting my ears pierced.

I wear glasses.  But they are only frames and have no lenses.  I think this makes me a hipster, but I don't care.  Recently I tried to go "hipster" by buying a pair of "hipster" glasses, but they're tight and now I have to worry about the lenses getting smudged and fogged up.  So I'll just stick with the lenseless frames.

I love crocheting.  In the past I have made washcloths for my family and for sales, but I decided to make myself a scarf out of fuzzy red yarn.  So, the first attempt as an infinity scarf wasn't all that great (I kept missing stitches and one end was half as wide as the end where I started) [my sister is watching me type this and said "Aww, no, I liked it!  I thought it was cute!" ;P], but if I wrap it around my neck enough times, it's quite comfortable.  My second attempt was to make a "vertical scarf" by crocheting one row to be as long as I wanted it to be (which turned out to be VERY long) and then keep going on the rows until it was as wide as I wanted.  Unfortunately, I did not have enough yarn in the roll to make it wide enough, and I have not worn it in public yet.  But I think with a bit more stitching, it could be AWESOME.

  • #3 - My face and body

In general, I think my face is quite average.  [my sister just cried out in protest "NO YOU'RE PRETTY"]  I know how to use my face, and thus I have become notorious in my family for being able to make any expression imaginable.  Literally, any expression at all.  My eyes are blue (a gene from my dad, who has icy blue eyes whereas I have stormy blue) and my hair is either dirty blonde or light brown.  I have been told that not only do I smile with my mouth, but I also smile with my eyes.

I have freckles (unnoticeable unless you look up close), my eyelashes are short, I inherited dark circles (also unnoticeable), my cheeks are round and prone to blushing when my sister mentions Loki or some other male fictional character of significant importance to me, and I often think that my nose doesn't fit the rest of my face.  It's shaped really weird.  Here's a picture to illustrate:

My hair is weird, too.  After I take a shower (using conditioner), my hair is in wavy curls and really bouncy.  But the morning afterwards, my hair is floppy and greasy.  I've found that apple cider vinegar is a good remedy for floppy, greasy hair, but it leaves your hair frizzy and poofy instead.  Big improvement, indeed.

I'm short and a bit chubby around the tummy.  Maybe this summer I'll get around to exercising and working off that stubborn flab.  However, I'm proud of how my curves look (from the front, at least), and I'm generally okay with how I look.  My legs aren't exactly shiny fenceposts, but I'm fine with them.

My fingernails are an entirely different story.  For the longest time, I've been biting them off.  And yes, they're still there, but they might as well not be.  The nail on my forefingers are about a fourth of an inch long, and my thumbnails are about a third.  Really short, I know.  And when I do grow them (courtesy of nail polish), they bend and either break off or are bitten off.  I really don't like how my hands look, but I always remind myself that what makes hands beautiful is not what they look like, but what they do.

Well, that just about sums up my look.  I don't think I have anything more to say.

Good night, dear readers, and may spring come to us soon!


Sunday, February 2, 2014

My Cats

Well, I decided to do a thing about my cats. I'll tell you all about the four we have now but first, a history.

The first cat I ever owned was a gray and white tomcat named Pewter. We had him from when I was very little to a while before we had a big move to another state. I would do all sorts of terrible things to him, probably just because I was two or three, but he went through it well. On my better days, he was a sweetie. Before we moved, we gave him to our neighbors across the street. A few years afterwards, those neighbors sent us a photo of him sitting in a bookshelf with a coke can by one paw and the TV remote by the other. Boy, was he fat. Even now, I still laugh at that photo. Pewter died in 2013. I will always remember the cat that would walk on the piano keys in the middle of the night.

Several years ago, my family adopted two sick kittens from a friend of our who couldn't take care of them. I was excited to have cats again. We named the queen O'Malley and the tomcat Midnight, because he was a white cat. (My dad always wanted to do that) At first, they lived in the garage, and we fed them medicine every once in a while. Soon enough, our calico queen was pregnant and had a litter of beautiful kitties a few months later. Three if them we gave to a new home, and the other two disappeared long after they had grow up and had families of their own. O'Malley had a few more litters and died in the summer of 2010. She was our first matriarch of our cat family and a real sweetheart.

Her son, a lazy, friendly tan tomcat named Drew, was the last member of the O'Malley cat clan. All the others had died soon after birth or disappeared after a year or more. After her death, Drew
would sit in the backyard and meow mournfully, so sadly that I sometimes thought he was actually crying. So, we decided that he needed a mate, so we sought the neighbors of the same friends where we originally got Midnight and O'Malley. We got a mother, Cruella, and two of her kittens, Horace and Jasper. We did not know that it was a mistake to get them.

Cruella did not seem to like Drew very much, even though he was interested in the newcomers. Eventually, Drew disappeared in search of new adventures. His little kitty heart had broken from his mother's death, and Cruella driving him off did not help in the least bit. I regret trying to get him a mate. I'm no matchmaker, that's for sure. I miss him.

However, our cat family did not stop there. Cruella had a litter, none of which survived. She went off as well after a while, reappearing for some food every once in a while. I have not seen her for at least a year and a half. Horace was the tomcat, but he vanished too.

Jasper, on the other hand, is still around today as our current matriarch. She has had a few litters, one of which consisted of two sick kittens, Ink and Jink, who ended up becoming Jinxie. Ink died at a few months, and Jinxie grew sicker and sicker over the last year of her life, but she was a real darling. She died in the summer of 2013.

Now if you think that we abuse our cats so much that they die and run away, don't jump to conclusions. We live in the woods, and there are all sorts of animals that see a farm cat as lunch. Also, they are not indoor cats. My parents wanted to get them as mousers. Don't worry!

After a few more litters, it is ultimately four who have so far survived this harsh winter. Jasper, her sons Bob (a fat dope who is really sweet and has a croaky meow), Loki (an evil little queen who hates people), and Latte (the cutest lap cat that I call my coffee bean).

In all, our cats have survived many a winter and unwanted guests. We love them, or at least I do, and we wish to keep them for a long time. There is some sort of magic in having a sleeping cat on your lap. I will post photos sometime!


Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (Quick Review)

I almost typed "Blugsput".  Typos are so fun.

Well, a week ago to the day, I went and did it.  I went to a local theater to watch The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, and to be brief, it was everything I anticipated.  Pure awesomeness.


The film had a great start with a slight prequel from one year before, showing how Thorin and Gandalf decided to unite a few dwarves to take the Arkenstone from Erebor, and then use the Arkenstone to unite the rest of the dwarves to take back Erebor for good.  That's when I understood that this quest wasn't a battle mission; it was a heist.  It is also when I remembered that the only reason Bilbo is part of the quest is to steal the Arkenstone.  I commend Peter Jackson for the quick recap before getting to the good stuff.

One year later, Bilbo, Gandalf, Thorin, and the other dudes are being chased by this really ugly orc guy named Azog and his equally disgusting minions.  So after hanging out at this wolf guy's place for the night, they head to Mirkwood and then Gandalf just leaves for no reason.  Actually, Galadriel talked to him in his mind and told him to go to these old tombs or something in a faraway mountain.  And then he met up with Radagast (the dude with fungus on his face and a bird nest in his hair) to check out the tombs.

This was one of the most epic parts.  The two wizards find that the first tomb they see is empty, and when they look further down, they find eight other empty tombs.  There were nine.  And I was just really mind-blown there because those nine are the Nazgul!  Well played, Peter Jackson.

So when Bilbo and the dwarves head into Mirkwood to get to the Lonely Mountain before a certain time (because the secret door is only revealed by the last light of Durin's Day), and they get attacked by giant spiders.  I was shaking at this point because I really hate spiders, no matter what the size.  Fortunately, Bilbo escapes from his sticky cocoon and puts on the Ring to hide from the spiders.  That's when I discovered that the spiders' indecipherable shrieks and gurgles are completely understandable in the Twilight World (the place Bilbo goes when he puts on the Ring).  So that was cool.

Anyways, Bilbo ends up rescuing the dwarves, and they all kill the spiders.  At one point, one of the spiders tries to take Bilbo's Ring, and Bilbo kind of goes crazy in killing the spider.  Then, once it is dead, he snatches the Ring and says, "Mine."

It is at this point that Bilbo realizes what the Ring is doing to him.  He's becoming addicted to its power, even though he does not know the extent of it.  He nearly vomits when he realizes this.

After the whole spider deal, Bilbo climbs a tree to see where they are.  It turns out that they're really close to the Lonely Mountain and will easily be there in a day or two.  He climbs down and discovers that the Wood Elves have found the dwarves.  This is when it gets good, because Sparkles (my nickname for Legolas) comes into the picture.  He's as pretty and badass as ever.  This is also the point where Tauriel (the captain of the guard) has her movie debut, and Kili gets and instant crush on her.  I already shipped them at this point.

So Kili starts to flirt with her a bit when the Elves take the dwarves to the dungeons in Mirkwood, but thankfully, Bilbo didn't end up in the same place.  He had the Ring on, so he got into Mirkwood without anyone noticing.  Thranduil (the king of Mirkwood and Legolas' dad) tries to make a deal with Thorin, but Thorin doesn't buy it.  Dragons somehow get into the conversation, and Thranduil gets right in Thorin's face when he hisses, "Do not speak to me of dragon's fire."  That's when he reveals a horrible burn on the side of his face.

That's when I got a headcanon about Legolas' mom.  I started to think that when Legolas was around 5 or 6 years old, a dragon attacked Mirkwood and killed his mom with him watching.  Thranduil tried to save her but got burned in the process, and she had already died before so.  This was a trauma that really shook Legolas, and for years afterwards, he would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for his mother.  Those nights, Thranduil would hold his son close.  Now that Legolas is older and has stopped aging, he's buried the trauma deep inside of him, and that's why he doesn't talk very much.  He cares about Tauriel because she reminds him of his mother.  Whenever I think about this headcanon, there's this sharp pang in my chest.  If this is canon, I'll probably just hide under my bed covers for a few years.

Back to the canon story.  Bilbo cleverly gets the dwarves out after Tauriel and Kili start to hesitantly bond a bit.  It turns out that the dwarves and Bilbo escape Mirkwood by riding barrels in a river.  That was obviously the awesomest part.  Riding in barrels looks very dangerous but so much fun.

While the Elves are chasing them, so are Azog and his orc minions.  There's a really cool battle between the three forces, and Kili gets shot in the leg.  Poor guy.  Tauriel notices and keeps him from being shot again.  The dwarves escape, and a lot of orcs are killed.  Thranduil decides to seal off his kingdom to protect it from the growing darkness in Middle-earth.  Just before the doors are closed, Legolas realizes that Tauriel has left to find the dwarves on her own.  He goes after her, and the two of them end up helping the dwarves, but that's a while later.

So the dwarves and Bilbo find themselves in Laketown.  Complicated stuff happens, and the residents of Laketown (all humans) end up helping the dwarves to the Lonely Mountain, and when they get there, the orcs end up in Laketown too, looking for the dwarves.  A few of the dwarves stayed behind, like Fili and Kili and some other dude with a weird hat.  It forgot his name.  Tauriel ends up healing Kili's wound, and he confesses his love for her.  The scene just ends like that.

Then Legolas gets a really intense fight scene, and he actually looked like he got hurt pretty bad, but when the orc he was fighting just got on a Warg and ran off, it turns out that all Legolas got from that fight was a bloody nose.  He seems shocked to see his own blood, and then he looked really pissed off, so he got on a horse and ran after the orc.

So the dwarves and Bilbo get into the Lonely Mountain, and they send Bilbo off to get the Arkenstone.  And I must say, Smaug is one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen.  He's huge!!!  It turns out that they didn't get the Arkenstone, and Smaug gets really pissed when they try to drown him in liquid gold.  So he flies off to Laketown, declaring that he is fire and he is death.

The ending line by Bilbo: "What have we done?"

In all, the movie was great.  Surprisingly, it was paced much faster than the other Peter Jackson movies I've seen, and it seemed like they stuffed a lot of things into it, but I hope the third one will be a bit smoother in that sense.  However, I loved the structure of the film and the epic ending.  I highly anticipate The Hobbit: There and Back Again!

The song that plays in the credits is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.  Here's the link:

Until next time, my darlings, farewell!


Friday, December 20, 2013

Ocean Dust: a Novel - Chapter One: Steam

(Ah, the long-awaited Chapter One.  I have been waiting so long for this.

As I said before, I was going to wait until I progressed at least halfway through my first draft before publishing the chapters on my blog, but I decided that I would rather just start publishing them on here so I could get some opinion from you guys.  Feedback is much appreciated!

Anyways, before I get started, I'd like to give you a quick backstory.  This tale started out as a typical fairy tale about three girls summoned from our world into a fairy world where they are destined to save it from a terrible villain.  After a few years of holding onto the story and adding things here and there, I discovered that the general idea was too overused, so I threw it away, and several weeks later, I started it again with new settings, new characters, and new tales.  The only things I kept were the first names of my original characters!

The scribbles I vomited out soon became what I now call Ocean Dust.  Enjoy the first chapter!)

            Shadows loomed over the Midway from the surrounding skyscrapers.  Night had already enveloped the city of Londonne in a shrouded black veil as the bright lights of the skyscrapers reflected off the gathering storm clouds.  A powerful thunderstorm was beginning to arrive, as they generally did that time of year, but, as usual, the people of Londonne were not worried in the least bit; after all, cities could never be destroyed by only a thunderstorm with the modern technology of the highly industrial era of 1896, in that case, especially Londonne.
            Many steaming racs were crowded in the Midway system, their shiny, smooth shells showing deranged, twisted likenesses of the skyscrapers as they often did, but only when their drivers went through a racwash to cleanse the outer shell.  Otherwise, it was plastered in the gray dirt of the outlying countryside.  Sometimes there were unidentified leaves wedged in the crusty filth, which was all but seen as a disgrace in cities, as if anything living besides citizens was prohibited, especially in Londonne.
            Racs were often nicknamed “steam carriages” because they were like carriages except they were steam-powered by engines made of gears, pulleys, and levers instead of being pulled by a horse.  Lately, the production companies of racs gave the devices colored metal shells to replace the previous shells of wood traditionally painted black.  They were all the rage in the Skyway, yet the residents in the Midway rarely saved up enough Shells to buy even an older rac model.
            As the racs slowly slid on their black, rubbery wheels along the Midway and into the glittering, elaborate system of the Skyway, a man in a dark coat skidded between them on an antique clockcycle, which occasionally sputtered with a small cloud of steam.  The man was wearing a loosely fitting brown cap, more fitting for a factory worker but rather stylish nonetheless, and it so perfectly matched his graying russet hair that reached to just below his ears.  He had a thin moustache and a stubbly chin, and old gray eyes that were staring at the center of the Midway, glancing at the numerous watches on his left wrist every now and then.  The clock on the clockcycle, which was the headlight as well as the engine, was ticking slower than usual and inching towards the number twelve at the top.
            Dash it all, the man thought with a snort of annoyance.  I suppose I’ll have to wind up the old watch when I get back to the trapa.
            The clockcycle swerved past a corner and into a hazily lit Underway.  The man with the old gray eyes slowed his clockcycle down a bit as the tires splashed in a shallow puddle filled with murky old rainwater that still lingered from the previous gale.  He glanced briefly at an open door on a dark brown building where a little boy sat on the steps, only dressed in faded blue overalls and grubby boots that were too big for his little feet.  The man drove his clockcycle on as the Underway led on to another turn and into a darkened alleyway, which were merely narrower, darker variations of Underways.  The clockcycle skidded to a stop by a tall red brick T-nemtrapa building.  Trapa buildings are no more than a series of flats in a large structure often with several floors.  The man swung his right leg over the handlebars and onto the dampened asphalt, and he was just about to wind up the clock on his clockcycle before the faint echo of several pairs of feet reached his ears.
            “My most sincere greetings, Mr. Brackenbury.  I am Culverton Claudine.  You are a Hunter, yes?” a smooth voice said from the obscurity of the Underway.
            Hunters, in those days, were people much like bounty Hunters.  They would be hired for odd jobs, mostly involving tracking down and capturing or assassinating a certain individual that the employer wanted to be rid of.  The man with the old gray eyes had been a Hunter for many years, and was still known for being the best of his trade.  Well, the best in the Underways, that is.
            The man, Brackenbury, did not turn.         
            “Aye, that I am,” he said.
            “I am in need of your services,” the same silky voice said.
            He glanced up to see four dark figures, and the man at the front, the shortest, was the one who had spoken not a minute ago.  All four were dressed in elegant, gentleman-like black suits, but surprisingly, their polished black boots were not stained by the puddles made by the rainwater and the old grime that always lingered in the Underways.  The silken-voiced man at the front of the group, Claudine, smiled to show two rows of pure white teeth, almost too white.  The man with the old gray eyes knew that these men were from the Skyways.  People that clean and pure hanging in the Underways was never a good sign.
            Brackenbury’s eyes widened a bit when he saw a slinky, green-eyed Siamese cat perched on Claudine’s shoulders.  An identical cat, different to the other one only by its blue eyes, curled around the man’s ankle and rubbed its back against it.  Brackenbury’s nose wrinkled in restrained disgust.  He hated cats.
            “Well, that depends on what kind of work it is you want me to do,” he responded to Claudine with a quiet chuckle, ignoring the quiet felines.
            “It is the work you were trained for,” said Claudine.  “There is a large colony of rebels in the old forest a few miles out of Mirrorville.  They have been making trouble in all towns and cities in Inglande, and they are a disgrace and a serious dilemma to the Inglish economy.  We require that you hunt them down and eliminate them.”
            Brackenbury glanced away for a moment.  He had heard of Mirrorville.  It was a small city not far from Nottingham, which was around central Inglande.  Mirrorville was famous for the many buildings that were continuously adorned with mirrors.  Sometimes even the interior walls of a trapa, house, or business would be completely covered in shiny mirrors.  It often made one consider that perhaps they were really the mirror, and the reflection they saw was the real image.  Mirrorville played with one’s mind as if it was only a game of chess.  Brackenbury knew that if he was to agree to this employment, he would probably have to stay the night in Mirrorville before doing the job.  He wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
            “What kind of trouble have these rebels been making?” said the man with the old gray eyes, turning his head back towards Claudine.
            “Culture; they are trying to stay true to the old ways of the Inglish Empire.  With the growing modern revolution happening all over our world, they believe that it’s happening too fast.”
            “I see.”  He paused.  “How much are you willing to pay?”
            “We’ll pay you 200 shells now and another 600 when you finish the job.”
            “600 when I’m done is fine. 400 now,” Brackenbury interrupted.
            Claudine raised his eyebrows a bit.
            “Isn’t that a little high for a Hunter’s service?” he said skeptically.
            The man with the old gray eyes laughed again and glanced at a watch out of habit.  “You guys are from the Skyways. Nothing should be too high,” he said with an undecided half-grin.
            Claudine tried to chuckle a bit, but because he nearly never did so, it did not sound like a chuckle in the least bit.
            “Besides,” said Brackenbury, “a thousand shells is good enough for eliminating an entire rebel colony, right?  It’s not like I’m just getting rid of an old gypsy woman that casts spells on naughty kids.”  One side of Claudine’s mouth turned upwards in mocking amusement, but inside, Brackenbury knew that he was supposed to be serious.  Important people from Skyways weren’t like important people from Underways.
            Brackenbury glanced at the dampened pavement.  “Who’re your friends?” Brackenbury suddenly inquired, referring to Claudine’s two Siamese cats.
            “Ah, I nearly forgot to introduce them,” said Claudine.  He scratched the green-eyed cat on his shoulders behind its ears, followed by a loud purr.  “This is Lord Bumblesnip, and this,” he said, bending down to blue-eyed cat to stroke its cream-colored back, “is Count Corfickle.”  Brackenbury snorts softly in ignorance.  They were such odd names for pets, and for that matter, cats.
            One of Claudine’s bodyguards handed Brackenbury a silver briefcase holding the four hundred shells that would be his pay until the job was done.  He took the briefcase wordlessly and shook Claudine’s hand, afterwards which Claudine wiped his hand on his pants.  Skyway people tend to have a fetish for keeping their hands clean.
            “When do you want the work done?” said the man.
            “We’ll give you a month, but if it’s not done within then you’ll have another week to finish it.  We’ve heard that you are the best Hunter in the Underways and that you don’t back down on a well-paying job.  I do hope that you take this offer sincerely, sir.”
            “Of course I do,” said Brackenbury.  “It’s what I do for a living, you know.”
            “The information you need for the colony’s location is inside the case.  I will contact you in two weeks,” said Claudine.  And with that, he left with his three bodyguards, disappearing into the misty shadows of the Underway like a deadly wolf pack on the hunt under the invisible protection of the storm clouds.  Claudine’s two slinky cats followed right behind them, looking entirely identical from the rear view.  The green-eyed one -or as Claudine called him, Lord Bumblesnip- turned and looked at Brackenbury with stealthy, watchful green eyes.  After a moment he turned tail on Brackenbury and followed his colleague, Count Corfickle, into the shadows.
            Brackenbury sighed pensively and picked up the silver briefcase holding his current pay.  He looked up for no apparent reason, and, as usual, saw nothing but gloomy gray clouds, from which the occasional thunder roll could be heard.  Strangely, even though the sky was cloaked in dark storm clouds, there was a star among wind’s invisible fingers.  Not a faint star far away, but a gleaming, shining star that made the sky almost seem like dawn.  But it was scarcely midnight.  Holding out his hand, which was grubby with old dirt and dotted with the occasional blister, he felt the first few raindrops of the storm.      It had arrived.

                  And in more ways than one.

(Well, there you have it.  Please, please please tell me how I can make this better!  Of course, it might take more chapters to know how it can be edited, but if you have a thought, please let me know.  I want to make this book perfect!

Merry Christmas everyone!

With love and wishes of happy holidays, 


Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Upd8 #1 ... and Happy Holidays from the Princess of Snow!

Well, tomorrow marks the day that declares it is one week until Christmas.  How time flies.  Happy holidays everybody!

Welcome to Upd8 #1.

  • First of all, in short, my two older siblings introduced me to a very new anime series called Attack on Titan.  I've only watched six episodes in the last two days, and I've gotten hooked!  The animation is the most beautiful I have ever seen, outweighing most other cartoons by impossible standards, and the 3D maneuverers?  The coolest methods of transportation in the history of ever!  And, of course, I adore the outfits and the characters. I am very excited to see more episodes.

  • As for my novel, if you wish to read some of it, please expect delays, as I have said before.  My writer's block disappeared for Chapter Sixteen, and I have chiseled my way to Chapter Twenty.  However, I am not sure how to start it and will probably not start publishing my chapters on here until I get to at least Chapter Thirty.  But even so, I will keep writing and perhaps unveil some fan arts I've made over the past months.

  • School is weighing down upon me, and I will not get my break until the beginning of next week.  Biology is much harder than I expected, and I now realize that memorizing terms on a mushroom's anatomy and life cycle can prove to be effective when it comes to a degree in college or something like that, but, as an artist, it will probably end up being rather useless in my life.  But who knows?  Perhaps God has something really weird planned ahead.

  • And, finally, I must tell you fellows something very important.  For the past few years, I have been a devoted fan of The Lord of the Rings trilogy directed by Peter Jackson.  When I saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, I expected the same epic auras of The Lord of the Rings, but it did not have quite the same feel as the others.  However, after I realized that The Hobbit would be made into another trilogy and not just two movies, I became very excited, almost too excited, to find that Orlando Bloom would be reprising his role as Legolas in the second Hobbit film.  I don't remember how long I screamed with excitement into my pillow.

But what does this have to do with Upd8?  Well, I'll be able to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug with my dad in a nearby theater this Saturday while my two older siblings, the ones that got me into Attack on Titan, see The Hunger Games: Catching Fire in the same theater at the exact same time.  It was very convenient that the showtimes lined up perfectly, otherwise there would have been no other way for me to see it.  Let's just say that I saw one window of opportunity to see this movie, and I took it.

And this is what my newest poster looks like!  It's glorious and I will treasure it forever.

Well, I'll see you all in a later post.  I will eventually post some chapters from my novel and some fan arts!!

With love, hugs and kisses good-night, and wishes of happy holidays to all,


Sunday, November 17, 2013

Swear word replacements

Ever have those days when you just want to blabber out every swear word you know but can't because your parents, teachers, and/or friends would just go "ASDFGHJKL; YOU CAN'T SWEAR AGH YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH"

Well, I have the solution.  Silly replacements!  Here they are.

F*ck = fluff
Sh*t = snickerdoodle
D*mn = dumpling
A*s = archaeologist
B*tch = blubber

For example-

"Snickerdoodle, have you seen that fluffer? He's got a fluffing hot archaeologist!"
"I don't give a fluff!"
"You're so full of snickerdoodle."
"You little blubber!"
"He's so fluffing hot!"
"I want to be his little blubber."
"Sometimes life just feels like a pile of snickerdoodle."

I made these replacements because it's fun and weird and instead of making people cringe or blow up at you, it just might make them smile because of the weirdness.

And, for your amusement until I return with a new post, here are some cat GIFs that will make you smile.  Feast your eyes upon the hilariousness.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Road Trip Ahead

Guten Morgen, Freundinnen!  Es ist drau├čen geschneit! Ich bin sehr gl├╝cklich!

First snowfall, seen from my bedroom window
Anyways, in a few hours, I will leave home on a six-hour drive to a Christian convention.  We're going to stay at a friend's house and will be gone for a few days.  Expect post delays.

However, at a local school where I am taking a few classes (the rest is homeschool), we have made some little figurines out of clay and glaze.  For the season, we made clay jack-o-lanterns.  We had the option of making three small ones or one big one, and I chose the three.

Went for for a Tim Burton-esque kind of thing.
Sad faced/sewn-up mouth one.  I wanted to do something depressing but cute.

Did not turn out the way I wanted it, but still as creepy as I imagined it.
Another one, an effigy of a kitty that I call Ryuzaki, will be uploaded in a future post.  Eventually, I will work up the courage to publish some chapters from my book.  I was writing a scene yesterday, which involves some awkward romance, and I looked at it and thought "I have no idea how to do this."

So, I seek some help.  My words are beginning to slow down and I was wondering if maybe you guys could help me out here.  I deeply appreciate your comments and I hope to find the time to look at your blogs!  When I do publish my chapters, please, please, please let me know what you think.  I'm a struggling writer!

I will be on here again in due time.  Once again, Guten Morgen.