Oh! AND KICKBUTT DECISION YEA! *Says Mulan in creepy Dad voice*

No school today! Any other day I’d be annoyed at this news, but today if feels like excellent timing because I was going to be out anyway. :)

Reason? I went to bed last night with my head feeling completely foggy and congested. And it ached. And my throat hurt reeaalllyy bad. So, rather than go to school feeling like crap and possibly spreading what I suspect to be a virus around, I was going to stay home.

Anyways, I write to thee this morning to tell you about one of my favourite songs. It’s a queer love of mine. It’s a song that I can only listen to under certain, special circumstances. But whenever I listen to it under those circumstances, it’s like magic. Horrible, terrifying magic. It isn’t loud. It isn’t exactly noisy. Rather haunting and phantom-like. That’s exactly what I imagine whenever I hear it under those special circumstances. I feel the presence of what can only be described as tortured spirits. Creatures who’ve been mocked, tossed aside, oppressed. Hopelessness…it’s a very eerie feeling. An uncomfortable feeling. Like anything supernatural could happen at that exact moment. But I’m addicted to it. And take the opportunity to indulge in it whenever I can…

So, you may be curious as to what these special circumstances are…even more so as to what the song is, haha, but we’ll get to that later. Possibly. If I feel like sharing.

The special circumstances:
-Feeling a little distant from reality. The realm between Lala Land and the real world. Whether it be that I’m deep in thought, or about to fall deep in sleep.

-Sadness. Feeling a little down. Depressed. And I want to be dug a little deeper.

-Loneliness. This song can’t be appreciated with a friend nearby.

-Paranoia. Sense of impending doom. Honestly, if I’m alone in a dark area and I thought heard something move or feel someone nearby though I know no one else is around, it makes the song even better.

-Darkness. Arguably the most important. Hearing the song in a place where you can press your palm against your nose and can’t see your fingers is an amazingly suffocating feeling.

You can see how strongly I feel about this song. And that’s the thing. This is what this song does to me. So I have a feeling that to share this song would kind of be pointless. I suspect after getting the song one would try to put themselves in those same circumstances and play it. Seeking the same high I get. But chances are that we (we as in me anyone trying to relive the experience) won’t react the same way so again, it’s a little silly to try.

Those who really know me has probably guessed that it’s a Metric song, being that they’re probably my absolute favourite band of all time. Fine, ‘nother hint. It’s off my absolute favourite album of theirs, Live It Out.

…selection number 9.

And I just gave you the song.

Oh, Jean my French Buddy! I was listening to Live it Out last night (listening to the ninth song on the album at midnight for those who hadn’t guessed that, lol) and during Poster of a Girl, Emily Haines started singing in French and I thought of you because I wondered if you would’ve understood it. :))

Anywhose. That whole album is one I like to listen to with my eyes closed, ’cause I see whole scenarios and stories play out in front of me. So, thought I’d share and have a wonderful day now, ya’ll. <3

Hey. Guess what? Sarah Palin’s whining, AGAIN. I know, I know. That’s not a big surprise at all. What came to me as a surprise, however, is who she’s picking on now. As of late, she’s attacked Family Guy.

Family Guy of all shows. Why, you may wonder? Because they made fun of Down Syndrome and her son has Down Syndrome.

Wow.

Just wow.

Hey. Newsflash to you, Sarah: DUH.

It’s freaking FAMILY GUY we’re talking about. What, has she been living under a rock? This is what this show is all about: making fun of everything. Kind of like South Park, but much more subtle from what I hear. I don’t watch, either. I find Family Guy too stupid and South Park too crude, but I don’t complain about every Black, Muslim, Female, Glasses-Wearing, Arachnophobia, Achluophobia, Acrophobia, etc etc etc the list goes on JOKE they make on those shows. Why? Because I know that that’s what they do, and to whine about it is futile.

They’ll continue to offend to matter what because they’re catering to a certain audience (mostly teenage boys) who find that sort of thing hilarious.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not justifying what they (Family Guy) did in the least. What they’re doing is insensitive, stupid, and jerkish (I know that’s not a real word). I personally know someone close to my heart that has Down Syndrome. But again, I’m not complaining because I know that I’m to expect that sort of thing if I waste my time tuning into those shows.

I’m really, really, really, (really!) hoping that all this ridiculous whining will finally really backlash on Sarah, and maybe, maybe, maybe, (just maybe!) she’ll go back under the rock from whence she came.

My goodness… -_-

:D

:D

This is sort of a continuation of my last blog because I had a weird dream that involved, you guessed it (or not, lawls), Edward Cullen. He wasn’t like the one I knew. He was a lesser, more subtle version of the one we know today. And dude, he was pretty cool to talk to. (Do I sound crazy right now or what?!) But I was thinking for an hour in my bed that if he was pretty easy to talk to, he must’ve had some decent personality, right? Then I realised that underneath that extreme ball of extremeness that is Edward Cullen in the Twilight series, there is a boy hidden and he is waiting to come out.

I think I already knew this before because (SURPRISE) Edward was going to be in my story (yes, the one you read yesterday….or whatever). And he was going to be in my story because the story started off as (SURPRISE) a fanfic for the Twilight series. And because I was annoyed with most of the characters, I had decided that I was going to take each one and sort of trim them down and make them over from their original selves so that they’d feel more realistic whenever I wrote them in.

One of the earliest characters I started with was Edward Cullen! :D

As I was working on him I got this KICKBUTT EUREKA moment from him using Carlisle and Bella’s conversation in New Moon.

Edward is religious.
…that’s the genius moment.
Edward Cullen is religious, thus he believes in God, but also believes he is a demon. And whilst we get glimpses of this fact in the book, we don’t get enough of it. I believe if Stephenie Meyer dug deeper into this personal struggle with Edward, focus more on his own vulnerability, we would’ve better sympathise with him and better understand why he acts the way he does. While redrafting his character, I used this as the core of his personality (being that he was only going to be a secondary character) and this is what I came up with.

(….I hope you’re keeping up with this. xD. I’m bad to ramble. :P)

Edward Cullen:

Being a vampire, Edward Cullen has a natural instinct to kill human to satisfy his hunger. This conflicts with his personal belief: “Thou shalt not kill.” He broke this rule in the past as a ‘newborn’ vampire, and killed humans for about a decade (am I getting that right?) But, because this unique individual has an unusually powerful good conscience for a vampire, he only targeted ‘bad guys’. However, killing humans still haunted his conscience so he ultimately tried to stop by feasting only on large animals. Also, being the religious dude that he is, he keeps a Bible. BUT! (Here’s the, “aw, poor Edweird. :|” twist) Because he’s a vampire, whenever he tries to touch the Bible, it burns his hands. (Actually, this could be taken in two ways. Either, “Aww, poor Edward.” which I sympathise with personally because I’m religious in general, or this could be taken as “Dude, stupid Edward.” for those who think vampires should act as vampires and not be touching crosses and Bibles. :D)

Anyways, so the Bible burns his hands. So why does he read it anyway? Why isn’t a belief in God enough for him? Because he’s trying to convince himself that he, too, can be saved even if he is amongst the damned. I have a particular scene drafted of Elsa walking into his room and finding a Bible laid out on his desk with random pieces of papers sticking out here and there and a notepad next to it with paragraphs and words scribbled down on it madly and whole sections crossed out or circled. These notes are basically of him arguing with himself using verses from the Bible as to whether he’s damned to Hell or has a shot at Heaven.

Again, I sympathise greatly with this because the fear of Hell is very real to me. I don’t know how this would come across to others. ^_^

So, Edward’s trying to make up for his “Dark Decade” by practicing self-restraint and being EXTRA GOOOOD. :D. This is why he’s very active in donating to charities and trying to live simply and not being extravagant in his wealth. (Based on his suggestion to give all those clothes to Goodwill in the fourth book-ish) Also, he tries to keep his temper under control so he hardly ever lashes out, which is kind of a bad thing because people need to get his emotions out. He strives to keep his bad temper under control because he’s afraid that if he loses it, his vampire instincts will take over and he’ll end up doing something he’ll regret. Like attacking Elsa in that scene I had drafted which was awesome. Best fight ever. (I LOVE FIGHTS!)

So that’s basically my draft centered around Edward’s religious beliefs. I really wish Smeyer explored him up to this point because I think now you have a character that’s sort of broken. And you can kind of understand why he’s soo freaking emo about his vampireness. Because there’s something wrong with his conscience. It’s too…human. Thus, he strives to be as human as possible. I think the rest of the Cullens should’ve had a vampire conscience and ate humans anyways to further contrast the Edward character. Or maybe Carlisle is the only other one who believes as Edward does, so he’s not so alone. Or maybe he should be incredibly lonely, that’s why he clings onto Bella as a friend. AND MAYBE HE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO ATTENDS SCHOOL BECAUSE HE’S CRAZY! :D

And because he’s so lonely and just wants a friend, he’s sort of manipulative so Bella will stay with him. OH NOES! NOW HE’S TURNING TO THE DARK SIDE! NOO EDWARD! DOOON’T! And that’s why he’s a little obsessive. Because he needs a friend through this struggle!!!! GEEZ! It’s too bad Bella’s atheist! OMG AND HE SHOULD’VE DIED AT THE END ‘CAUSE THAT WOULD’VE BEEN SAD! :((

Grrrr! So what do you think? I should poll this. :D.

…..

nvm it won’t let me poll it. :|

I would’ve blogged yesterday, but it was a Sunday, and every Sunday, my dad gets into this weird Cleaning Nazi mood where everything suddenly has to be spotless and in order. That’s not a bad thing at all. Lord knows I need that kind of reminder every now and then, or else my room would probably look like a pigsty.

ANYWAYS THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT!

………

As some of you already know, I’m writing a novel. (For those of you who didn’t, SUPRISE! :D) I’ve been writing and rewriting this novel for two years now because I’ve strived to avoid something that I cannot stand in a story: lack. of. personality.

I’ve recently read a story about a girl who was gorgeous and and guy that was really hot.

……And that was pretty much it. Oh, and they lusted over each other.

But that seems to be a disturbing growing trend in YA novel nowadays. And I do believe it has much to do with the popularity of the Twilight series. Particularly with the Edward Cullen character.

The most outstanding ‘personality’ trait of Edward Cullen is his hotness. He’s freakin’ gorgeous and pretty much perfect as far as looks go and we know this oh, so well because it’s mentioned at least 643 times in each of the Twilight novels. But what if we stripped away the good looks? What if Edward looked a lot more like Quasimodo?. Then all you have left is an obsessive, depressed, quad-polar, deceiving, controlling, manipulative ‘vampire’ who is pretty durn fugly. He has no positive personality. His good looks is all he has. Yet, Smeyer is making millions off this silly, uninspired character. So when books like Twilight are cashing in the big bucks and underground novels that are probably 20 times better written and have characters with actual, memorable personalities are being left in the dust, it’s no wonder that some authors hoping to make it big are turning to the formula: “Hotness = Good”

BING BING!!! REALITY CHECK! “Hotness = BORING!”

Who cares if a character looks good? Who honestly cares for a “chiseled” chin or rock hard abs? Will chiseled chins save you in a gunfight? NO! Will chiseled chins make up for the sun on a rainy day? Sure, they’re nice to look at, but NO! Can chiseled chins save a baby from a burning fire? NOOO!! Will chiseled chins save you from an erupting volcano? NO! Will chiseled chins change the world for the better? NO!!

But say is a character is charming. A smooth talker. Manipulative. Clever. Then maybe that character could even PREVENT the gun fight from happening, or talk his or her way out of harms way.

Say a character is bubbly. Humourous. Imaginative. Optimistic. Then they could probably make anyone smile even in the dreariest weather.

Say a character is self-sacrificing. Brave. Heroic. They would be the ones to risk their lives to save that baby.

Say a character is inspiring. Courageous. Motivated. Righteous. If anyone, they be the ones to change the world for the better.

I think pretty much anyone is screwed from an erupting volcano. Unless a character has the right kind of cleverness to avoid even that.

But it’s these kind of traits that people find interesting because it’s these kinds of traits that’ll affect the way characters go about things. And they don’t all have to be positive one. (That’s when you’ve got yourself a Mary-Sue) which is another thing I hate about these common bland but beautiful characters. They have no outstanding flaws in them. They always do and say the right things. But we all know that in reality, that you can be a good person but selfish, too. You can be a good person, but bossy, too. You can be a good person, but stubborn, too. You can be a good person, but cowardly, too. You can be a good person, and not be perfect.

I guess I share this with you today because it’s something I, myself, strive to remember. I strive to make my characters stubborn, selfish, cowardly, lazy, mean, teasing and every bad thing we all, as humans, tend to be every now on then and not focus so much on making them have good traits. I’m still struggling. My characters are no where near perfect (in the flawed sense. Lawls, does that make sense?) but the more I get to know them, I believe the better I’m developing their personalities.

Soooo, today I share with you chapter one of my story! Hope you enjoy and don’t be afraid to critise! ^_^
Oh, and Jenny, go ahead and go all grammar nazi on me. :O

In other news: My family watched Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and I cried when Dumbledore died…AGAIN.

Chapter One

I had always been suspicious of them, you know. Always always always. Though it was nothing so blatantly obvious. Only that subtle shift in the air you feel when you know something important is being hidden from you, only no one plans on telling you what it is. So I played dumb. I didn’t go around hassling Papa or Momma for information on whatever the big secret was because not only is that annoying (*cough* Froggie), but I was sure I’d find out soon enough. And boy, oh, boy I just had to be right.

I shove Annel’s slobbering, sobbing self off my lap because I figured there was no time for crying anymore being that I’m on a mission now. No use for it either, because this is one thing Papa seems really set on and no amount of boo-hooing is going to change it.

I slide the lid off the trunk at the foot of our bed and already Froggie gets all alert and excited.

“Where you going?” She sniffs loudly.

I dig through Froggie’s impossible mess of old dolls, toy horses, and stuffed frogs that I’ve sewn for her over the years, being that she has this weird fixation with frogs (Hence her nickname, Froggie). Her real name is Anneli, but I’ve been calling her Froggie ever since she was a tiny thing, being she’s always asking me to fetch frogs for her from the pond in our backyard. Momma hates the nickname and thinks I’m teasing her whenever I say it, only I’m not and Anneli loves it and that’s all that matters.

Finally, with half the junk cleared out, I pull out my secret boots. Secret because Momma and Papa doesn’t know how I really got them. I told them a big lie that I don’t even remember and they got so sick and tired of trying to dig the truth out of me, they finally just gave up and let me keep them.

You see, they used to belong to a boy that was in love with me like a fool. At least, that’s what he told me when he handed me the boots. I never understood why he claimed to be in love with me and all, being that we live some roads away from each other and only see each other when we both happen to be down at the creek. I’d always remember him because he changed his name every time I asked for it. Anyhow, he gave me those boots as an engagement present and said that I was going to his guardian angel wife. Naturally, I told him that it was a ring he’s suppose to be giving me so I didn’t have to marry the fool, but he argued back, going on about how the boots were all that he could afford and so I still had to marry him because it’s the thought that counts.

I didn’t really much care or worry what his reasonings for our engagement were, being that Papa wasn’t going to let me go so easily anyway. I was just excited about getting free boots!

But one day, out of the blue, that fool decided that he just hated me to the core and demanded that I give him those boots back. Only I laughed in his face but he said he was serious, so I told him I wasn’t going to give those boots up so he kicked the creek water hard so I’d get all soaking wet and then he told me he was going to get his own father to come teach me a lesson and get those boots back. Only I didn’t believe him being that he’s deathly afraid of his father. He told me so himself.

I don’t know why he got in such a hissy fit over those boots anyway being that they were never his to begin with. He told me later that he stole them from his brother who loses boots so much anyway, that his family has to buy him a pair every month.

So we stopped seeing to each other after that big dramatic incident. Or, at least, we stopped talking to each other, because I’d still see him the in the woods sometimes walking down toward the creek and I only to turn around as soon as he spotted me.

That happened a couple of years ago, and these boots are falling apart now, but they still fit pretty well. They only pinch a little. And I still keep them because I’ve still got use for them, and, well, because I kind of miss seeing that loved-crazed fool and saying no whenever he begged me to kiss his cheek. These boots are the only thing that I have to remind me of him.

“I’m going to find Kaisa.” I hadn‘t planned on seeing her at all today, so I‘m leaving a lot later than usual and I‘m going to have to really hurry if I wanna make it back in time for dinner. Froggie pouts our her bottom lip, looking like a movie star stuck in a sappy love story. She’s always wanting to go sneak away with me which is ironic being that I usually leave during the evening and Froggie hates it when it’s getting dark. I always tell her no because first of all, I don’t want her getting in trouble in case I get caught. Not that it’s never happened before, but I usually get off easy because Papa just trusts me that much and Momma’s only concerned about Froggie following in my footsteps. Second of all, I don’t feel like babysitting Froggie. Especially not after the news.

“Can’t I go with you just this once?” She’s practically on her knees.

“You’ll get bored sick, Froggie!” I hiss, though I know it’s far from the truth because Froggie can make a game out of dirt. Froggie knows it’s a lie, too, but I shut out her insistence and start to climb out the window. That brat throws a toy horse at me and it hits my fingers, so I nearly fall. I survive, however, and make it to the ground where I take off running toward Kaisa and I’s tree. But not before I pick up a stick and fling it through our window hoping it hits Froggie.

I wish I could say that I met Kaisa a couple of years ago, because then that would mean that I’ve known her for just as long. Alas, I’ve only known for almost a year now, but that didn’t stop her from becoming my very best friend. The first time I ever saw her, to be quite frankly honest, I thought she was a boy what with her butchered dark red hair and her aggressive walk. She was practically stomping through the snow-coated forest and straight toward my house. I was hiding behind a tree, thinking maybe she was a friend of Momma and Papa only that didn’t make much sense, being that she was only thirteen.

Soon she caught sight of my glaring at her and yelled the words,

“YOU!”

I still stood behind the tree from her because I was a little scared of her, to be honest. I thought maybe she was actually an elf who got lost and I didn’t know how to deal with elves.

“YOU! Come out from behind there. I see you!” She smiled wide and crooked.

I was just about to run away when my gut told me not to bother trying because I had a feeling that she was a faster runner and would catch me with no problem at all. So I just said the only thing I could think of at that moment.

“Whaddaya doing here?”

And that’s when she frowned.

“What? Do these woods belong to you?” She said, sounding let down.

“Well, no. I guess. They’re anyone’s woods as far as I know.”

“Really?” I shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?” I was getting annoyed mostly because I was so confused. She just flashed that big smile and said,

“Faaaaaantastic!” I found out that she was much taller than me quick, being that she got right in my face and asked me what I was doing in the woods and I saw no harm in just telling her the truth, which was finding a tree to climb.

“Really? Me, too!”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause I said it.”

“So? What difference does it make? Let’s go find a tree!” And after a little hesitation, I decided that that was fine. So we found a tree together and started to climb. The climbing got dangerous quick, though, because she was always wanting to go a branch higher than me and, well, I wanted to go a branch higher than her. And then the pushing and the shoving and the pulling broke out as we tried to knock each other off that big, old tree until, finally, we reach as high as we could go before the branches began to snap under our weight.

“We both win!” She said, and then she started asking all these random personal questions like what kind of undergarments did I have on. Only I told her she’d better mind her own business. And I guess you can say that we’d been friends ever since. Almost everyday we try to meet each other at that same tree. We know which one is ours because Kaisa tied red pair of stockings around one of the middle branches. I’ve asked what she does whenever I don’t show up, because I just go home if she isn’t there, and she told me that she finds ways to entertain herself and that’s all.

Judging by the scabs and scraps she’s got all over her, I say climbing and falling out of trees is exactly was she does.
I reach our tree and all the sudden an apple comes crashing down, just brushing my shoulder.

“Lunch!” I hear Kaisa caw from above. If this was any other day, I might’ve laughed it off like it was nothing, but I just feel annoyed. I’ve climbed halfway up the tree, right where the red stocking’s tied, when she starts dropping random debris on me and I’m climbing and I’m standing it until I just snap and scream at the top of my lungs.

“STOP!” …and she does.

But not only does she stop, but she starts to cry just as I knew she would. Kaisa has a pretty big bark, but nothing gets her crying faster than when someone barks back. And this is no good because how can I tell her the news with her mad and sniffing and wiping up those tears? By the time I reach her, her arms are crossed and her freckled cheeks are wet.
“Hey, Kaisa…” I say and get no response, just as I knew, “I’ve got some news to tell you. It’s really important. And kind of sad. That’s why I yelled ‘cause I’m feeling so upset.”

Kaisa’s a sucker for bad news most of the time. It takes her a while to finally suck it up and look at me, but finally, she asks.

“What?” And I tell her.

“I’m moving.”

:|

…

*inhale deeply…exhale slowly*

as-salaamu alaikum

I think a common fear found amongst very nice people is that they’re afraid that they’ll come off as rude.

I’m a nice person. I bet you a million dollars that I’m one of the top ten nicest people you’ll ever meet in your lifetime. (Okay, ten is pushing it…maybe twenty?…thirty?…) Anyways, I’m pretty darned nice if I do say so myself. And I strive to be, because there are few things that set me off more than someone who is mean for the sake of being mean, or someone who reacts harshly in situations where they could easily have been gentler and polite. I see no point in just being a rude, mean person. What do you accomplish other than the reputation of being a jerk?

So, please understand, I strive to be nice. Now being ‘mean’ to your best friends is different. Your best friends are some of the few people you can actually be ‘rude’ or ‘mean’ with little or no consequence because, hey, they’re your best friends and you’re probably just joking with them anyways. Like the time I teased my pal Desiree for studying the wrong set of vocab words for a test. I called her the biggest loser on earth and we both laughed it off. She knows I’m not serious and that I love her to death. We have that trust.

Mkay. Now that you understand that I’m nice and you can be mean to your friends, I can tell you about something that’s been EATING AWAY AT MY CHEST FOR A WEEK NOW. >:|

It all started with a song. My teacher re-arranged our seating temporarily for a song. I was a little bummed because I was moved away from all my friends, and was seated next to girls whom I have never talked to before. I said hi to both of them, not wanting to seem rude. I ended up sharing a book with one of them. Let’s call them Fabio (I don’t know what their real name is anyway). I ended up sharing a book with Fabio and we talked the small talk and everything was cool and my teacher let us go back to our seats. I did not speak nor see Fabio again until a week later. She asked if she could sit by me, being that her other friends were gone for some reason and she didn’t want to be lonely. I saw no harm in letting her sit by me.

Oh, how WRONG I was.

Everything was cool at the beginning. We talked the small talk. Walked the small walk. Smile at silly observations. But things began to get weird. Fabio would make random noises for extended amounts of time that, in short, ANNOYED THE CRAP OUT OF ME. She’s began asking weird questions. Get into these strange mood swings. And all and all…ANNOY THE CRAP OUT OF ME. And, honestly, I felt horrible for it.

“Give her a chance.” I kept telling myself, “Just give her a chance and try to get used to her.” Because, I don’t know, I know how it feels to be excluded and feel left out when all you want is to be excepted and make a friend. It’s far from fun. So I was determined to tolerate her. Let her tests my patience and give hints as to whenever I am “not amused.”

It didn’t work. Everyday, the more I had strived to like her, the more I found that I disliked her. Especially after I was whacked in the face by her with a rolled sheet of music. Now, that would’ve been hilarious, if we had gained enough trust between the each other to the point where I considered her a friend (See why I brought it up?) but it wasn’t. It was annoying.

And, well, today, THE LINE WAS CROSSED.

Mock Trial was planning a group picture today (got cancelled, by the by. LOL) so I had to call my mum after class to let her know. My BANANA BUDDY Shelby decided to walk over with me and that was all fine and dandy. After several tries to get a free line, I finally dial in what I thought was my number.

“Hello?” A voice that was not my mother’s answered. Me being me, I freaked out and slammed the phone back down, hanging up. I look at Shelby in horror. “I think I forgot my phone number.”

We have a good laugh, poking fun at my dilemma when FABIO appears from the corner of my eye. I tried ignoring her, trying again to get an open line and praying that somehow my number would come back to me.

“Here, let me see.” Fabio says in the midst of my trying and snatches it out of my hand. I WTH’d. As if I didn’t know that you have to re-dial “869″ over and over to get a free line. Finally, she gets one, and hands me the phone.

“Thanks…” I say, when in reality what I wanted to say was, “GEE THANKS! ‘CAUSE LIKE, AS IF I HADN’T BEEN DOING THE SAME THING BEFORE YOU GRABBED THE PHONE FROM ME.”

But remember…I’m nice. :)

So there I am trying to remember my number with Shelby giggling at me and the rest of my friends showing up by then. I had the first six digits punched in.

“I wanna say the last ones are 5555″ I jokingly tell Shelby.  (*Note that I say 5555 for the sake of the story. Lawls)

and as my hands are REACHING over to the keypad to punch in those buttons, FABIO’S hands reach over and do it for me. Then she GRABS THE PHONE AND JAMS IT IN MY FACE.

Now before I continue, I want you to do something for me. Visualise your best friend right now. Visualise them! Got it? Wave at them and imagine them waving back. You ready for this? Okay, now imagine your best friend doing EXACTLY what Fabio did to me. Having a hard time doing it? Gee, I wonder why. Probably ’cause FRIENDS DON’T DO THAT KIND OF THING TO FRIENDS.

I was astonished! Is this girl for real? Does she seriously think she has to right to just do that? You know how close I was to yelling

“EXCUSE ME?! I HAVE TWO HANDS THAT I’M QUITE CAPABLE OF USING MYSELF THANKS. COULD YOU BACK OFF?”?!?!?

Only, like a hero, I restrained myself and only rolled my eyes. ;)

But for reals. I don’t know how much I can take anymore. I’ve had it up to HERE *strains to get hand as high up in the air as possible* WITH HER. One day people, it’s going to be no more Mrs. Nice Ayat. I will snap one day. I can feel it. All my patience is being sucked from my body like a dry sponge soaks up water. I’ve tried so hard to be nice, but come on. There’s only so much a poor girl can take.

Some people, I find, just do not  mix. Just aren’t meant to be friends. No matter how hard you try. :/

:|

This is addressed to everyone who thinks being purposely offensive to someone’s beliefs is oh, so funny.

It isn’t. You don’t seem cool. You don’t look witty. You just end up looking like a complete arse.

It’s really sad when the person creating the offense is just ignorant and thinks screaming the words “Allah!!!  BOOM!!” is a legitimate term that Muslims use in their everyday lives. Truly, ignorance is a sad, depressing thing. But when someone KNOWS what they’re saying is completely false and is being a jerk for the sake of being a jerk, well, that’s worse than sad. It’s pretty pathetic, actually. It just shows the kind of person you really are. One who does.  Not. Care. And wow, let me tell you, it takes a lot for someone to just really get under my skin and get me PO’d, but those type of people do the trick.

This is short and (sweet?) and I just had to get it off my chest. I guess my final message is, please, for the sake of all that’s good and holy, don’t be ignorant. And if you aren’t ignorant and you DO know better, than act like it.

My goodness…

:D

Are you excited? ‘Cause I’m excited.

I’ve been reading an awful lot of blogs lately and said to myself “Self…I should start blogging again, too.”

Because usually when I want to rant/get my thoughts out I just talk to somebody and then it’s over. However, perhaps I should channel all that negative energy into blogging. Why do I hate so easily? (Not people…but like books and movies and celebrities. Things you’re “allowed” to hate. ;D) I was seriously contemplating this yesterday as I realised that I just loved hating things. My theory is that it’s because I ‘m so a freakishly bubbly and happy person in real life and am almost never seriously angry about anything so my douse of hate/anger  has to go SOMEWHERE. I think it’s kind of the same reason as to why I love depressing films. I’m never sad about anything in real life because there’s positivity everywhere, and so to get my douse of SAD EMOTIONS, I must watch depressing movies and read depressing books. And I guess that’s why I cry so easily during movies-

RAMBLE ATTACK! Sorry! Caught myself there. No more RAMBLING!

So the next three posts (to make up for lost time?) I’m actually going to have a subject. This is just to let people know I’m going to be semi-active again, Inshaallah.

Excuse me?! Did you really just tug at my heart-strings for a shampoo commercial?!?!

….

Anyway. That’s not the point.

The theme of this story is the classic “hero doing the impossible” bit. When all the world seems against the heroine of the story, she rises triumphant, and proves everyone wrong!

 I’m afraid I don’t do so well with reading East-Asian authnecities, but I’m going to guess that this story took place somewhere in China. (double guess: In the city of Beijing!) There is an obvious external conflict between Ing (What I named our protagonist) and Ming (the antagonist and bully. Name given by me again.). Ing is deaf, and because of the external taunts that she suffers from, she believes she is completely incapable of playing music. In this case, incapable of playing the violin (That instrument is HARD!) This is her internal conflict.

That is, until she meets up with Xuan (name curtosy of Ayat and the Chinese Republic), an elderly man who plays the violin like a dream! But here’s the kicker; he’s deaf, too! Being deaf doesn’t have to be a handicap when it comes to playing music is the message she gets through to her.

Throughout the video you see Ing practicing, driven by her motivation to prove herself.

You also see  Ming practicing, driven by her motivation to show off and to prove herself superior to Ing.

You also see Xuan and Ing get beat up in the streets (It was all I could do to keep myself from screaming, thanks) and that is yet, again, another external conflict that Ing has to face.

Then the climax comes. Ming has just gotten done showing off her awesome, mad skills on the piano when Ing steps out, broken violin in hand. She plays. She plays that sucker like there is no tomorrow (With her hair whipping around for dramatic effect!) and then you see a butterfly coming out of it’s cocoon.

This, of course, symbolised Ing coming out of her own “shell” of disbelief in her self. And she “bloomed” (get it?) into something beautiful! Like butterflies. You don’t think they’re anything special until they come out of their cocoon.

I believe the irony was just the fact that a deaf girl conquered over someone who could clearly hear at music; something that the majority of people rely on their ears to perfect.

 What can be considered even more ironic is the fact that this is a shampoo commercial and not some video to try to encourage everyone that “YOU CAN DO IT! NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY!”

Grr….so angry.

…

Commercial! :D